Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Oh, now the action is picking up! I really hope you awesome readers are enjoying this story so far. Like I said, please let me know if you like it!

((Also, keep an eye out for a new AruAni multi-chap fic in the future! Another AU-though this time it would incorporate assassins and ancient Arabia :D If you guys are really eager for it, I can put it on a front burner))

The next few days seemed to rush by in a blur for the blond navigator. Captain Erwin had visited him briefly after the first day to casually ask about his progress and how he was adapting to sea life, but that was the extent of the conversation. The blond sailor neither inquired nor hinted at any location or demand, merely wishing Armin a wonderful day as he ducked out of the cramped corner that served as the makeshift navigator's work cabin. Since the technician had vacated the room earlier, he had seen little of Hanji, who apparently had roomier quarters elsewhere for more specialized work.

Apart for the brief respite that Eren and Mikasa offered when they snuck off duty to visit him, Armin was alone for the majority of each day. His only other time to interact with others was either in the mess hall, where conversations were often replaced by ravenous chewing and gulping, or in the barracks where several male teens spent each night. Often Armin returned too late to the overcrowded, hormone-flooded barrack to catch any one else awake.

After Armin finally reorganized the carnage that had previously been Hanji's attempt at navigation, he decided that he earned a well-deserved break. As the captain had yet to ask for specific instructions, he assumed he was not currently needed and could spend some time finally above deck with the rest of his crewmates. Perhaps he could find a way to somehow help his brunet friend. It was only fair that Armin help his friend after the latter found the blond and escorted him back to their sleeping quarters when he had fallen asleep in the tiny navigation cabin again.

Before leaving the now spotless room, Armin paused in the threshold and considered his hard work. With Hanji's confusing, intricate contraptions gone, he finally had enough counter space to neatly line each tool up according to purpose and leave enough room on the drafting table for future projects. Armin's blue eyes caught on the blank walls and he frowned, hating the naked look of the cabin. The maps, which had been shoved under a cabinet in the far corner of the room, were in horrible condition. Almost all of the tattered, yellowed sheets of parchment had sustained extensive water and mold damage. Armin even noted with a wide blink that a few were singed from flames and were flecked with dried crimson. Again, he wondered how the previous navigator had died, though he was partially terrified of asking and receiving the answer.

Armin knew enough about the surrounding port areas from his grandfather's extensive collection to sketch rudimentary samples of the coast and current patterns, but he longed for the official maps to hang along the wooden plank walls. If Captain Erwin ever visited to inquire about the necessary supplies, Armin swore he would ask for at least one map the next time they made port.

Realizing he had spent enough time dawdling about maps and charts, Armin quickly shut the door behind him and walked leisurely through the empty, lit corridors. He wasn't surprised to be the only one about—most crew members were either napping in their cabins to make up for the late shifts or were working out on the deck.

When the boy crossed through the heavy doors leading to the deck, he blinked owlishly in the overwhelming sunlight, stunned by the brilliance of the natural light in contrast to his artificial candlelight. He stumbled blindly forward—

"Hey! Watch it!"

Armin could smell the faint, sulfurous tang of gun powder and he heard a metallic hissing to his right. Thin fingers wrapped around his jacket collar and wrenched him backwards. Armin uttered a startled cry and would have tipped backwards if the same grip on his jacket hadn't adjusted itself to catch his arms.

"Are you okay…uh?"

Armin blinked the blazing stars from his eyes and smiled weakly in the general direction from where the voice had originated. "Armin Arlert," he supplied.

As his vision finally clearly, Armin realized that the teen in front of him was no older than him. Connie Springer, I think Eren said his name was…. he echoed, drawing on the brunet's brief, pointing introduction after the first night.

The dark skinned teen blinked and nodded again, smiling slightly. "Yeah, I remember Eren talking about you. Haven't seen you around very much though," he tilted his head curiously. He eyed the boy's thin frame and weak build. "You don't work in the medical bay with Christa, do you?"

Armin shook his head, fighting off a blush at the weak implication. "No, I'm…" he reached subconsciously for the silver compass pinned his to lapel. "I'm the navigator…I think."

"Wow," the older teen whistled, staring wide-eyed at the glinting badge of honor. "So you know where we're going then?"

Armin opened his mouth and shut it again, feeling another embarrassing wave wash over him. "Sort of?" he offered. "I'm really new at this. Still getting steady," he smiled weakly.

Connie scoffed loudly. "I'll say," he chuckled. "You almost fell over the railing. I saw you from up there," the teen gestured upwards. Armin squinted in the bright sun at the crow's nest. He glanced back towards the shorter boy and noticed for the first time that he wore the same leather straps that Mikasa and Eren had worn, but a metallic contraption was also hooked around his waist. One of the devices was still smoking from where the teen had activated it only previously.

Armin ogled at the device, finally seeing one of the famous Wings up close for the first time. It looked like a set of generic pistols, but he could see evidence of tinkering—most likely courtesy of Hanji—and the barrel was large enough to allow for a coiled roll of metallic wire to be triggered without complications.

"Wow," he whispered reverently. "That's amazing… Your job is incredible—are you the only lookout?"

The teen across from Armin preened at the compliments. "No, but since I'm the lightest," the shorter teen shrugged noncommittally, "I'm usually the one who spend the most time up in the rigging." He craned his neck and gestured towards the central mast. "Over there is Jean. He sometimes acts as the lookout since he's really good at using the Wings, but he's a bit too heavy to fully use the rigging. Usually he just works on deck with Marco," he pointed to another brunet beside Jean, "and the others."

Armin studied the faces from across the ship, wondering if this was the same Jean that Eren complained about incessantly. His face wasn't that horse-like.

A shout from somewhere above caused them both to jump. Connie smiled ruefully, "I have to get back to work."

Armin nodded; he understood. "Thank you again for, uh, stopping me. It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, likewise," the shorter of the two waved over his shoulder. With a burst of gunpowder, he disappeared back into the billowing sails.

Armin watched him go, still feeling an envious pang at the boy's remarkable freedom.

"Hey! Armin!" The blond turned towards his brunet friend. "What are you doing up here?" Eren grinned, toting along a heavy coil of rope. "Finally bored by all of those maps?"

The younger shook his head. Never. He considered the slightly perspiring teen before him. "Need a hand?" Armin offered with another wide smile.

Armin found working on the deck rather enjoyable apart from the relentless beat of the sun above him. However, by simply allowing his mind to drift away on the gentle lap of the waves, the sun beams seemed far less oppressive to him. He was still positive that he would be nursing a massive sunburn by the end of the day, but he didn't care. The salty air and cool ocean spray was intoxicating.

After he helped Eren gather up the last of the extra rope, the two spent the rest of the afternoon washing away the crusted saltwater on the deck. According to Eren, the first mate was a bit of a stickler when it came to uncleanliness of any kind. Apparently things became very bad when sailors didn't mind their hygienic habits, which was perhaps why nearly no one onboard the Freedom was missing any teeth or ever came down with fleas.

Just as Armin finally finished scrubbing his sector and was returning to the soap bucket, a loud, clanging bell sounded above them. He wasn't sure what it meant, but Eren, who had been informed of the ship's tone schedule, paled considerably. Immediately several sailors equipped with Wings, who had been lounging casually on the deck previously, sprung to their feet with twitching fingers dangling beside their contraptions. Something bad was happening.

Armin craned his neck up to see Connie flailing from the crow's next and gesturing towards something off of starboard.

"Come on!" Eren hissed, grabbing Armin's soap-dampened sleeve and tugging him towards the railing. The boy's eyes widened at the sight before him.

Although he dare not tear his gaze from the sea, Armin could hear the heavy click of the captain's boots behind him.

"Mister Levi—a report, please," Captain Erwin muttered in a firm, emotionless tone.

The first-mate trailed after his captain, eyeing the disaster before him with his typical blank frown. He brought a gold-plated eyepiece to his face, studied the wreckage for a moment, and lowered it with another grimace. "The Garrison. It seemed to have been attacked by pirates. The damage is not accidental," he remarked.

Armin gripped the railing and leaned forward, careful not to tip over as he almost did previously. The first-mate was correct in his assessment: whatever happened to the Garrison was certainly not an accident. The ship—Armin could hardly call it that anymore—was in several, barely floating segments. The remaining pieces of the hull that had yet to sink were littered with massive, gaping cannon holes. The main sail was shredded and singed, floating quietly in the smoking, debris filled water like a drowned ghost. Armin adverted his gaze from the tragedy at the next sight. Bloated, water-logged limbs and corpse bobbed gently in the sea. From what Armin could see, there seemed to be no survivors.

The blond captain cursed under his breath and turned to face his gathered, pale-faced crew behind him. "Search for survivors," he ordered. "We need to know what ship did this."

Several of the more experience crew members equipped with Wings nodded. Using the mast as an anchor, a few launched off of the Freedom directly, landing and sputtering the in the water. Other sailors, one of which Armin noticed was Jean, aimed directly for large pieces of the wreckage and landed with heavy grunts on the bobbing pieces. Armin watched with bated breath as the crew members filtered through the debris, many of them actually plunging into the sea to better search.

However, little progress was made and no survivors were discovered. Eventually, the sailors had to return before the salt water corroded their gunpowder too badly. The other crew members remaining on the Freedom refused to return to work even after the first-mate's stern warning, watching the unfolding action with wide stares.

"Captain! Captain! We found someone!"

Captain Erwin's gaze darted in the direction of two of his men who were waving excitedly. If Armin squinted his eyes tightly enough against the sun's glare, he thought he could see the prone form of a tall, slender human resting on a wooden plank. Immediately, row boats were dropped from the side of the ship and dispatched in the direction of the two sailors and the Garrison crew member.

As the survivor was hoisted gently back on the ship, Armin managed to catch a glimpse of her face. She seemed young—barely older than Armin himself, though she was quite a few centimeters taller. Freckles dotted her dark skin and her uniform, similar to the outfit that the crew members of the Freedom wore, was ripped and singed. The strongest of the sailors gently carried the girl down to the infirmary, leaving Armin frowning at the wreckage one last time.

Who caused this?

The survivor, who upon awaking terrorized a majority of the nursing staff apart from a kind, young blonde recruit, was unable to give any definitive information about her ship's destruction. She bluntly said her name was Ymir and she was onboard the Garrison when pirates attacked it. When prompted on the name of the pirate ship, the girl merely mashed her lips together and shrugged, asserting that she never saw the ship's name and she didn't who attacked them. This was all that Armin had gleaned from the drifting conversations that passed in front of his cabin door.

He had returned back to his navigator's cabin, unable to handle the sun or the sight of the destroyed ship any longer. Although he didn't know what he was looking for, the boy spread open the least damaged of the maps and scrutinized each detail. Perhaps he could find some hint of which pirate sect had attacked the Garrison based on the previous navigator's notes on shipping routines.

Armin poured over the notes before him and didn't even notice the captain's presence until the older man knocked politely on the doorframe. The younger blond jumped, nearly sending his instruments clattering to the ground again. He straightened as the captain entered the tight, crowded room.

"Sir…? Are you looking for Officer Hanji?"

Captain Erwin smiled and shook his head. "No, not yet."

"Oh," Armin paused, uncertain then on what the man desired. "Can I help you, sir?"

The captain nodded, eyeing the map spread out on the table in the center of the room. "Is that the most relevant map to our position?"

Armin studied at the map and his tiny corrections to the scale and landmarks. "It…it's old," he admitted, "but of the remaining maps, it is the most accurate. Although these instruments are old and a bit imprecise with this version of the map, I believe we are about here," he said, pointing to a location on the parchment.

"Only a few hundred leagues from the main Stohess port?"

The blond blinked down at the map. He hadn't realized that they were heading in that direction, though the captain hadn't yet asked for any modification to their planned route. Erwin seemed adamant in reaching the city, though Armin had no idea why.

"I believe we could reach Stohess within the end of the week," Armin responded honestly. He wasn't sure how accurate this map's scale was, but a week seemed like an appropriate estimate.

Captain Erwin studied the parchment, noting each of the tiny corrections Armin made to the map.

"Were these there or did you add them?"

Armin paled. "I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, suddenly regretting his decision to mark on the parchment. It wasn't his map—he had no right to modify it. "I merely corrected a few outdated errors but I can era—" he reached for the first marking to smudge it away.

"No need, Mister Armin. I just need to know if new maps are in order."

The blond smiled weakly, relieved to not have been in trouble. "New maps would certainly make things easier," he admitted.

"Very good," the captain nodded and fell silent.

Although he was not very familiar with the blond captain, he could tell something was still plaguing the older man's mind. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Captain?"

Erwin shook his head ruefully. "Unless you can figure out who sunk the Garrison, I'm afraid not."

Armin looked down at the charcoal markings on the main map. The blond had been just as curious as the captain about the identity of the Garrison's attacker and attempted a few tests to possibly provide some answers. The method he had used was highly theoretical and his grandfather had only barely begun to employ it in his own maps, but Armin had always viewed it at highly logical. Besides, how could hypotheticals hurt if they provided potential clues?

"According to uh, the notes," Armin started awkwardly. He wasn't sure if he would ever stop feeling uncomfortable about his predecessor until he found out the exact details of his fate. "The notes on the Garrison's routine shipping route showed that the ship was very off course. I believe that whoever pursued the Garrison didn't casually attack them—they drove them to this location like the Garrison was their intended target." Armin broke off at the troubled expression thundering across the blond captain's face.

"Sir…? Did I say something wrong?"

Erwin smiled thinly at the boy in front of him. "No, Mister Armin. It's just—I have a few ideas on who might've done this." The candle in the corner of the room gutted and the blond captain took that as a sign to take his leave.

"Thank you and good work, Mister Armin." Armin blushed at the praise and nodded to his captain as the taller man exited. Armin turned back towards the map and reached for his charcoal pen when the threshold squealed.

"Captain, did you forget somethi—oh…" The teenager broke off at the site of his visitor. It wasn't the captain—it was the survivor. "Um, hello…?" Armin squeaked awkwardly, blinking at his unexpected guest.

The young woman studied Armin for a moment, lingering slightly on the silver compass pin, and opened and closed her eyes lazily.

"I'm glad to see you're okay," Armin continued nervously, wondering what this girl wanted with him. The brunette didn't reply, but she raked her dull gaze across the map fanned out on the table. She slowly circled the table, brushing her hand against the writing utensils. Without knowing why exactly, Armin felt himself stepping casually in her line of sight, intercepting her prying stare with his own body.

"Can I help you? You really should be going back to the infirmary. I can show you where it is if you want me to…?"

The corners of the girl's mouth pulled into a thin smile, though the warmth did not spread to her eyes. "I was just wondering if you could tell me where we were sailing to? I need to know where, so I can find my closest members of kin to let them know I'm oka—"

"Captain Erwin knows our destination," Armin interrupted, feeling slightly braver than his quivering knees seemed to suggest. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that."

Ymir's smile lost some of its intensity and she nodded once before backing out of the room. "Thanks," she muttered, disappearing around the corner. Although he hadn't told the girl anything, he had a sinking feeling that she already was able to glean an idea of where they were heading. After all, he had foolishly circled Stohess' main port only a few moments earlier to show Captain Erwin.

Armin waited with stifled breath for the girl's soft footsteps to disappear. When he was positive she had left, he quickly blew out the candle and trailed after her at a safe distance. He had no idea where this daring, un-Armin-like attitude came from, but he felt partially responsible for revealing a crucial secret-otherwise why would only Captain Erwin and perhaps Levi know about Stohess-and he had to rectify that in any way possible. Besides, he didn't trust the sole survivor of the Garrison.

Ymir's uncertain, stealthy footsteps soon led to the main deck. Armin ducked behind a set of water barrels as the taller teen crossed to the railing. Under the light of a swinging lantern, she fumbled in her pockets for a tiny glass bottle. From another pocket she procured a charcoal pen and a scrap of parchment Armin recognized from his own quarters. The realization caused him to shift indignantly, eliciting a loud squeal from the uneven board he was perched upon.

Ymir froze her frantic scribbling and her head shot up like a scouting hawk. She scourged the deck with narrowed, dangerous eyes, raking her careful gaze along every possible hiding spot. Armin feared he was about to be discovered and subsequently tossed overboard, but the girl quickly finished up her note, stuffed it in the glass bottle, and tossed it over the railing. She disappeared back under the deck with another suspicious glare over her shoulder, leaving Armin alone with a spinning mind and no idea on what to do.

Thanks for your awesome support so far! Please let me know your opinions on that new AU idea ;D