Author's Note: Thank you to all who are continuing on with this fic~
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the official Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan characters.
Forever is Never for Certain
Chapter Three
On the morning Petra was admitted back to work, she nearly leapt out of bed. The sun was up in the sky, much higher than it should have been. She was late.
Jamming her limbs into her clothes, she dashed out of her room, pulling her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat passable. Thundering down the stairs, she burst into the stables and sure enough, her horse was the only one left of the squads that would be going out for training today.
With a curse, she tacked up the creature and tugged on her reins, urging her out of the stable, praying she hadn't missed her comrades. She hadn't, thankfully, and let out a sigh of relief, jogging over.
"I'm so sorry, Heichou," she gasped, hands on her knees as she regained her breath, "I overslept. It won't happen again."
From up on his own steed, Levi looked down at her curiously. "You won't be joining us."
Her head snapped up, her eyes searching his bland face. "Wha. . .what?"
"You aren't fit for training yet."
Petra's breath came heavily and she looked around at her friends for help. "What do you mean I'm not fit?"
"I don't like your complexion."
"I'm fine!"
Growing irritated, Levi sat up straighter, puffing his chest out slightly in authority. "I'm ordering you to stay here. You will stay here."
At a loss for words, she stared up at him, betrayal splattered across her features. Was he mocking her? Did he truly believe she was so incapable that she wasn't allowed to train for a day?
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, "what have I done?"
He ignored her questions. "I expect my office to be thoroughly cleaned today. You are aware of how it is to be done."
Petra's grip on the reins tightened and she stepped forward. "I'm coming with you."
Behind Levi, her squad members exchanged awkward glances. Did they disagree with her? Was everyone discussing her wellbeing behind her back and making decisions for her?
"I am not a child," she told the corporal slowly, "I am a soldier."
"You are out of line," he replied, placing the toe of his boot on her shoulder and nudging her back with it, "and unless you wish to be stripped of your duties completely, I expect you to cease this tantrum immediately."
Hurt and rage flashed through her eyes and she shoved his foot away. He let out an annoyed breath of air through his nose and turned the horse around, preparing to leave.
"If you do not wish to be treated like a child, Petra, then stop acting like one."
Without another word, he trotted off, his, Hanji, and Mike's squad following closely behind.
Hanji sidled up to him as they made their way to the training area, reprimanding him with a click of her tongue. "That was a bit harsh, don't you think?"
"I won't have her weakening the squad," he replied, not bothering to look at her. Hanji shrugged and pulled back. She didn't trust Petra's judgement any more than Levi did.
Furious and humiliated, Petra returned her horse to the stables, tore off her cloak and headed to Levi's office where she set to work doing the most unnecessary task he could have possibly assigned to her. It was perfect. Absolutely cleaned to his liking, as he had just done it himself the day before.
Still, she had been given an order and though what she really wanted to do was destroy the room and stand in triumph at his horrified face when he returned, she took a deep breath and controlled herself. No matter how angry she was, lashing out at him would do neither of them any good.
Everyone stayed clear of her path while she gathered her supplies, making several trips to the storage room. Those who had been in the Survey Corps long enough knew her silent fury, the calm eye of a storm that threatened everything in its path, but never released its terror.
"Stupid, stupid, stubborn man!" she ground out as she scrubbed the floor.
"Patronizing idiot," she hissed, dusting off the books.
With the desk clock in her hand, she lifted her arm, determined to throw it (even if her aim was towards the settee so as not to break it), she felt a wave of dizziness come over her and she dropped it onto the wooden surface, gripping the edge of the desk for support. With pursed lips she frowned at herself. She didn't want this to happen again. She didn't want to go through the pain that would soon accompany this feeling, but most of all, she didn't want Levi to be right.
The dizziness subsided and she let a slow breath of air from her mouth, closing her eyes. If she focused on feeling well, she could convince her body to do it.
By the time she was through, it was mid afternoon. She'd have the chance to clean herself up and possibly catch a short nap to refresh before she had to be back here for Levi to inspect her work.
She passed the inspection with flying colours as they both knew she would.
"Why did you do that to me, Levi?"
As he was sitting down to write his reports, Petra stood before him asking questions he had no desire to answer.
"I told you I did not find you fit for duty. I thought my letting you sleep in would make that clear and bring no offense to you."
She huffed, turning her head to the side and muttering a small unbelievable! before refocusing her attention to him.
"But to demean me in front of my squad? And Hanji's? And Mike's?"
Levi thought on this for a moment then used an elbow to adjust himself in the chair. "If I made you feel that way it was not what I intended. I thought you of all people would know not to take my words so personally."
Petra felt heat rise to her face and she breathed, doing her best to keep calm. She was frustrated with him and it was making her irritable. She was frustrated with herself and because of that, she was barely clinging to her composure.
"Since when do you concern yourself with the life of one human over all of humanity?" she spat, giving her booted foot a small stomp on the ground. He wasn't looking at her as she spoke; he was busy writing, only half listening.
"I don't," he replied, "when you're weak you bring everyone else down. It's the nature of our work."
Dissatisfied with that response, she grit her teeth. "You are not my father, Levi." She knew her statement had been made in a moment of juvenile petulance. She was losing herself to her emotions, something she rarely did.
"You're right," he muttered in agreement, "I am your boss. I gave you an order and you defied me."
"You are being ridiculous!" she countered, slamming a palm down onto the top of his desk.
It was then that Levi's head snapped up and he stared her down. "You are my subordinate," he bit off, "when I give my commands I expect them to be followed without question regardless of my intentions or motives. No one is above that."
"But if you'd just trust me—"
"Is it because I'm fucking you, Petra?" he demanded, "is that why you think you are special? Is that why you think you're exempt from the chain of command?"
She froze, eyes wide, words halting at the tip of her tongue.
"Because you aren't."
In one fluid motion, Petra's hand flew across his face. The slap of her palm against his cheek resonated through the entire room and while he wanted nothing more than to shove her against the wall and further demonstrate the hierarchy, he remained in his chair and said nothing. He knew he had deserved that blow.
Breathing heavily, she stepped back. Though in her heart she knew he was speaking out of anger in the same way she was speaking out of confusion, in that moment, she hated him.
"Do not come to me tonight," she warned, her words laced with venom, "because neither my door nor my legs will open for you."
She spun around, colliding with Gunther and with a hasty apology to her comrade, stormed from the room.
Doing his best to give no indication he had witnessed any of what had just transpired, Gunther cleared his throat, stepping forward and handing Levi a folder. "From Hanji," he said, trying not to grimace at the small trickle of blood dripping down the corporal's face from where Petra's fingernails had scratched him.
"Thank you," came the slightly annoyed reply as Levi pulled the files from his hands.
xxxx
In her room, after giving the door a solid slam (and then grimacing at the loud noise it made), Petra ripped off her jacket, whipping it onto the bed and curling her fingers into agitated claws, then relaxing as her muscles protested. She could feel the tears as the formed in her eyes but with a clenched jaw she fought them. She wouldn't allow herself to cry over their spat. Or perhaps she didn't want to cry over him. Not now.
When the whisper of irritation rose up in her throat she rolled her eyes and gripped the foot of the bed, prepared this time. Bracing herself didn't make it any easier as she knelt on the ground, forehead dripping with sweat as her body forced the blood from her throat. Blood that didn't belong there.
She coughed until she lost her hold on the bed, collapsing to the floor, and even when the muscles in her abdomen cried out desperately, she heaved and wheezed. There was no air in her lungs; she couldn't have called for help if she wanted to, and with the taste of blood on her tongue and teeth, her entire world faded to blackness.
She didn't know how much time had passed before she woke again. It was night, as evident by the darkness that surrounded her while her consciousness returned. There was a knock at her door and she furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of why she was on the floor.
"One-one moment," she muttered, lifting herself off the ground with much more difficulty than she had expected. Even the muscles in her arms were weak. Her knees shook when she stood and stumbled over to the desk, lighting the candle that sat there.
Her throat was raw and she remembered the fit she had suffered before blacking out. With a small sigh, she stood before the door.
"Who's there?" she asked, doing her best to put cheer in her voice.
"Petra."
It was Levi.
The anger she felt for him flooded back to her, but muted itself as it coursed through her body. It wasn't as strong as she wanted it to be.
"I told you not to come to me."
"Petra open the door."
Standing firm in what she had previously said, she didn't and remained silent. He had no business here. She was his subordinate, as he had reminded her. Their consorting was a scandal, inappropriate, and not something she was willing to sacrifice her career for. After all, she was a soldier.
With a sigh, she rested her forehead on the door. No, that wasn't entirely true. Nobody cared about the relationship between her and the steely corporal. She would find no trouble in the situation, and in this moment, she wasn't a soldier. She was a woman whose feelings had been deeply hurt and though she wanted nothing more than to swing open the barrier that separated them, she couldn't afford to appear weak.
But then he uttered one simple word.
"Please."
He rarely asked her for anything, and beyond that, he was rarely polite about it. To hear his plea so soft, as if he had said it solely for her broke down the walls she had build to keep him out.
Her fingers gripped the handle and she did as he asked, her tired face meeting his expressionless demeanor. "I told you to let me be," she said quietly, lacking the energy to fight him.
But Levi wasn't there to fight. He held out a box, about half her height in its length, tied with a white satin ribbon. It was a curious thing for him to bring to her, and she didn't know what could have possibly been inside, but she wasn't about to let him off so easily.
"I'm not just going to fall to my knees in forgiveness because you bought me something," she told him, pursing her lips when he pushed by her, dropping the box onto her bed.
"Just open it," he sighed.
Her look challenged him, but when she realized he hadn't come armed to battle with her, she stepped forward and undid the ribbon, lifting the top off the large parcel. Her breath caught in her throat when she laid eyes upon the gift, a gorgeous silken creation, a gown in a deep blue that matched his eyes, with silver lace trim, and tiny crystal beads sewn into the bodice.
"Levi. . ." she breathed, pulling it from its resting place, admiring the way it swished against itself, and the pickups in the shimmering skirt accented by lace appliqués. She'd never touched clothing this expensive, never mind owned it, and she wasn't sure what to say to him.
"Put it on," he commanded softly.
She looked to him in question, and it was then she realized he had shed his uniform, donning a simple black suit, white shirt, and his standard cravat. She didn't often see him in such formal dress as it was she who picked out his clothing in the first place, and generally dressed him in neat, but comfortable clothing on his days off. Never formal.
She didn't know what he was up to, but no matter how angry she was with him, it wasn't likely she would ever have the chance to wear such finery again, so she wasn't about to argue.
Levi watched as she pulled off her boots, shedding her harness and skirt and when she undid the buttons on her blouse, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring ahead with no hint of threat, teasing, or any indication that watching her change was the most exciting point in his day. Because it wasn't.
That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy watching her strip before him, folding each article of clothing before she removed the next, her skin aglow in the dim light of her candle, but he understood he had been in the wrong, how deeply his angry words had cut her, and he wasn't about to take any of the pleasure for himself. Not yet.
He smiled to himself while she silently debated to herself what sort of undergarments she should wear with this gift. It didn't matter; not to him, and not for the form of the gown, already fitted with petticoats under that mess of silk. There had been another dress, a giant cupcake of a thing that he had found humor imagining her in, but that monstrosity required a crinoline beneath it and he'd be damned if he'd be caught trying to stuff one of those into a box. Additionally, they didn't look all that comfortable and imagined Petra would have wrinkled her nose at the thought of having to wear one.
She settled on her drawers, those beautiful white confections that he loved so, an appropriate choice for such delicate clothing, but when she stepped into the gown, sliding her arms into the lace trimmed sleeves, she reached behind her back and found she had come to her limit of dressing herself.
"Ah. . .Heichou?"
Wordlessly he pushed from the wall, coming to stand behind her, admiring her back as he slipped the first silk covered button through the loop on the other side. She didn't say anything, keeping her head down, allowing him to concentrate on the tedious task of fastening her up.
His eyes fell upon a scar just left of her spine and he found himself brushing his knuckles against the mark, sending goosebumps across her skin. He remembered when she had gotten it. She'd been much younger then, fresh out of training. She'd lost her balance, slamming her back up against a tree, and as she had fallen, a rogue branch, split from a lightning strike perhaps, had pierced through her blouse, dragging itself up her back before she regained her composure, carrying on with the mission.
When the last button was fastened, his hands lingered on the flesh of her upper back, not wanting to tear himself away from her. He admired the small scattering of freckles across her shoulders and winced at the bruise she had acquired during her fall the previous week. It was healing, but slowly.
He stepped away, watching as she turned to him, fully clothed in the most magnificent thing he'd ever seen a seamstress come up with (not that he paid all that much attention in the first place) and when his own breath was caught in his throat, he knew exactly why humanity had to succeed. He needed her. He needed all of her, by his side for the rest of his life, no matter how short it might be. Levi knew that he loved her. He had learned that some time ago though the exact moment escaped him. He knew that she made him a better person, maybe even a better leader than he would have been without her questioning and challenging him, yet managing his irritation when he reached his limit.
But here. . .
She resembled a lady, a noble lady, one of those unfortunate girls on the arm of some fat pig who likely didn't care a whit for his woman, but showed her off to the world regardless. Except, Petra wasn't sad, lonely, or resigned to her fate.
She was radiant.
Levi wouldn't disregard her. She wasn't his prize, but she most certainly was his treasure, and he knew, in this very moment, that he had to give her everything.
"You missed dinner," he said, his words blunt and factual, not at all the praise he had wanted to shower her with.
Petra was also caught off guard with this and she smiled nervously. "Ah. . .I was sleeping."
Levi glanced at the bed, still perfectly made, and if he doubted what she said, he didn't voice it. Instead, he took her elbow, leading her out of the room, but not before she pulled back with a small giggle, reaching into her wardrobe and hopping into her tiny shoes.
"Where are we going?" she asked, positioning his arm and her hand to emulate the regal way a gentleman might escort his lady. He furrowed his brow at this but said nothing, allowing her to play.
"To have dinner," he replied. "Sleeping through it isn't going to do you any good."
He didn't lead her to the mess hall, but his office, and when he opened the door and pushed her into the room, her fingertips came to rest on her lips, quivering in awe. Set for two on the small table before the settee was a dinner like she had never seen. It wasn't overly extravagant; Levi wasn't one to take unnecessary measures with a food shortage, but even the small roasted hen amidst the potatoes and brilliant green and orange vegetables appeared to be a feast in her eyes. There was a smaller platter with assorted cheeses and fruits, and a bottle of something that looked as if it may have been champagne, set next to two stemmed glasses.
"I didn't do this," he said quickly, sitting her down with a slight push on her shoulders, "I know fuck all about—" he waved his hand over the table, " —this."
Petra couldn't contain her smile. It was just like him to surprise her with something sweet, only to turn around a surrender all the credit.
"It's wonderful all the same," she replied, wiggling her shoulders in excitement when he began to pile up her plate with far more than she'd be able to eat.
He grunted in agreement. After the disaster he had brought upon himself in this room hours prior, he had swallowed his pride and gone to his friends for help. He needed a proper apology. Short of kicking in her door and demanding forgiveness, his ideas were rather limited.
"I did buy the dress myself," he muttered into his glass, taking a sip of the bubbly wine that he could barely stomach.
The private dining had been Erd's idea. He was a man with a woman and, risking life and limb despite her frequent protests, knew a thing or two about romantic apologies. Dinner was his go-to, particularly because he was home so infrequently, but in Levi's case, it would serve as not only a peace offering, it might encourage Petra to eat, something Erd himself knew she was doing very little of.
Nanaba had lead the meal preparation. As it turned out, she was quite the cook, and with a crew of her choosing, she had spearheaded the endeavor. Never far from her presence, Mike Zakarius had made a contribution of his own to the cause of righting Levi's wrongs.
Nibbling on some cheese, Petra looked around and when her eyes fell on the newest piece in the room, she jumped up, her skirts (much larger than she was used to) bumping the trays before her causing Levi to let out an annoyed sigh and frown in her direction.
But Petra wasn't paying attention to that.
"A music player!" she cried, dashing over to the corner of the room where the object in question sat on a side table by the window.
"I've never seen one in person!" she said, her voice breathless with excitement as she examined it, doing her best to resist the temptation to touch it.
"It's called a phonograph," he corrected her from where he was still seated, "and I'm just borrowing it so don't break it."
"I'm not going to break it," she shot back playfully, "I just can't believe you found one."
Levi exhaled, leaning back. He had Mike to thank for that. A wealthy merchant owed him a favor and seeing as the tall man himself had no real need of anything from the piece of swine, had used the debt to assist the corporal in wooing his woman back into his good graces.
Honey eyes aglow, she turned and grinned at him. "Do you want to dance?"
"With you?"
Her shoulders slumped slightly and she sighed as she gave him a hopeless smile, "With the hen, Levi—of course with me."
He considered her for a moment, staring at her with boredom in eyes, enjoying the way she practically squirmed where she stood awaiting his answer.
"I don't know how," he admitted. It wasn't something he was ashamed of; he didn't particularly care about dancing one way or the other. He had never expected to need to do it, and never felt any desire to do so.
With a half shrug she held out her hand to him. "Neither do I."
This surprised him and he rose slowly, taking careful steps towards her. It seemed silly to him that such a sweet girl wouldn't know how to dance, but as he crossed the room and wound the crank of the player, he supposed she hadn't exactly had the opportunity to learn. Twelve was a strange and awkward time for anyone, even a motherly girl and though he hadn't gone through military training himself, he was almost certain dancing was not part of the curriculum. She'd never entertained suitors before him, and even when they spent time together, he had never taken her out to town social events.
He took her hand in his, tilting his head to find her waist, and pulled her close as the music began to play. Timidly, she placed her free hand on her shoulder and when he noticed her doubtful expression he slid his gaze over to her.
"I'm sure that's fine," he told her, "we don't need to stand on ceremony here."
"We never do," she reminded him with a smile.
He didn't return the expression, but pulled her closer, doing his best to find a rhythm to the peaceful recording. He rested his forehead against her neck, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing just behind her ear, "I was out of line."
Petra took his apology, and tapped him on the shoulder, then slid her hand behind his back, settling on the base of his neck. "You were doing as you saw fit."
"There was no reason to humiliate you," came his rebuttal, "and there is no excuse for the filth I spewed this afternoon."
She smiled against him, closing her eyes and enjoying their closeness. He'd gone quite far out of his way for this and she appreciated it more than she could say. Levi didn't waste his time. That he would go to this extent for an apology set her heart at ease. He was uncouth and awkward with romance, but he was honest.
"You didn't have to spend so much money on this dress," she said, giving the shaved part of his head an affectionate scratch, "though I do love it."
"Ah," he shrugged, making a failed attempt to spin her around the room as he had seen a gentleman do once. Instead, he robbed her of her balance. She laughed as he righted her.
"I have nothing else to spend my money on," he replied, not acknowledging his own blunder, "it might as well be you."
"Consider your apology fully, accepted you scoundrel of a man," she sighed, bringing her fingers up into his hair.
He stopped his makeshift dance steps and took hold of her face, his brows falling over his eyes and his mouth turned into a deep frown. "However, I will not apologize for my consideration for your wellbeing."
Annoyed that this was being brought to her attention again, she mimicked his expression, but where his was concern, hers was exasperation. "Levi please, don't ruin the moment."
"Listen to me, Petra."
She didn't want to. She absolutely did not want to hear anything else about how he thought she was or wasn't feeling and what he thought might be the best course of action for dealing with the now frail Petra.
He took a breath, calming himself. She was going to get loud. She was going to get angry. She was going to become impossible.
"Listen to me," he repeated, this time in as gentle a tone as he could muster, "I don't know what is happening to you."
"Nothing is happe—"
He cut her off with a thumb on her lips, "but you are either blinded by your pride, or keeping the truth from me. I trust, for your sake, it is the former."
She swallowed, and felt blood drain from her face as she considered her lies. Of course she was keeping the truth from him. How could she possibly tell him she'd been coughing up blood for the better part of two weeks, or falling faint at the smallest bit of exertion. She wasn't blinded by her pride; she was silenced by it.
"Levi I just. . .it's fine. I'll be fine."
"Then trust me," he pressed, "and do as I say. No one doubts your strength as a soldier, Petra. I don't doubt your strength as a soldier."
She couldn't resist his orders anymore. Not after the stunts she had pulled today, and most certainly not without arousing any more of his suspicions. If she was going to handle whatever this was herself, she would have to comply. After the fit she'd had in her room, she decided that if it happened again, she'd see the physician. Secretly, of course.
Though she didn't voice her defeat, Levi could see it in her face. Lifting her chin with his thumb and forefinger, he shook his head at her before planting a kiss on her forehead.
"For the next few days I'm assigning you to Hanji," he murmured against her skin. She was warm, warmer than she should have been, but for the sake of their night, he said nothing.
"Hanji?"
With a slight groan he pulled back. Their song had ended and he guided her back down to the settee, handing her the champagne he had poured for her.
"She's developing a new type of trap for taking the disgusting fuckers alive," he told her, dropping himself onto the cushion beside her. "You get along well enough with her, don't you?"
"You know I do," she replied, "but I don't have the research experience to work on a project like that."
He knew this, and when his eyes glinted in the candlelight, Petra thought perhaps he was teasing her.
"I know you'll be able to make yourself useful," he said with a soft grunt as he reached forward for a bundle of grapes, "and if nothing else, your presence might give Moblit a bit of a reprieve before the poor bastard has a stroke."
At that, Petra couldn't do anything but smile.
xxxx
Author's Notes: So I'm pretty sure the snk universe doesn't have phonographs but that's okay, right? Right. :) Thank you for reading~