Author's Note: This marks the end of the pieces I wrote for the June 2014 RivaMika Week.

8.

He wasn't expecting the pain to hurt this badly. After all, if Erwin of all people had told him that the searing agony would only be skin deep, he had expected it to be much less excruciating. Erwin didn't exaggerate, but in this case, Levi had thought he could endure it for far longer than he already had.

He hadn't faced hundreds of titans just to surrender so easily to a goddamn needle for crying out loud.

But here he was, clenching his teeth as the cleric inked his shoulder and sputtering round and bloody oaths under his breath every time the old man jabbed into his hard flesh.

"Son. Hold still." Father Milton pressed a firm hand on Levi's bare back, trying to keep him steady.

"Just get it over with," Levi muttered, flexing the muscle and relishing the few moments of painlessness. "Fuck!" he swore as the needle went in again.

Father Milton ignored expletive, already accustomed to the dirty mouths of the soldiers that walked through his door, and continued marking the young man. He thanked God they weren't doing this in the chapel.

"That young woman…" Father Milton pursed his lips, trying to remember the name. "Ah. Mikasa, was it? What a lovely young lady she is. She'll be–"

"She'll be here tomorrow," Levi twitched, fervently wishing the old man would hurry up and finish the job. He'd already been here for two hours and he wasn't sure how much longer his shoulder could take. Damn you Erwin.

Father Milton chuckled, gently pushing Levi back down on his stomach to get a better view of the fresh tattoo. "Almost done, son." He pierced the skin again, eliciting another low curse from Levi. "I'm assuming she'll want the same design then. When is the ceremony?"

Levi muttered something incoherent, but then answered, "In a month. We're a bit, shit, pressed for time," he grunted.

"Ah. All done then, sir. You might want to–" the cleric frowned as Levi jolted up from the bench he had been lying face down on, "–rest for a little while. The skin will heal in a few weeks' time. Don't disturb it."

Levi scoffed. "I'll be fine," he wrapped his shoulder in a thin strip of cloth, tying the ends with his teeth and wincing at the sharp pain. Flinging his jacket around him, he practically ran from the shop, scowling and secretly relieved it was over. If Mikasa found out he had acted like a pathetic teenager during the inking, she'd never let him live it down, and that was not how they were going to start their blissful happy-ever-after.

Mikasa traced the pattern with delicate fingers, not wanting to irritate the sensitive skin. She studied the detailed design, picturing how it would look on her skin, the intricate curls and sharp slashes inscribed on her own shoulder.

Levi had come back to the Scouting Legion's Headquarters and marched straight into her room, glowering and eyes narrowed to slits. She had ordered him to strip, scolding him for not initiating the proper care, but he had just stood there in the doorway, frowning fiercely and shifting his weight to either side.

"Father Milton expects you to be there tomorrow afternoon," Levi murmured with a raspy voice, as Mikasa gently placed a damp washcloth on the red and puckered scar. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he clenched his hand into a fist. "You could be with E–"

She stopped suddenly, letting warm water drip down Levi's back and into the bed sheets, and gripped his other shoulder, her fingers holding onto him desperately tight. "You're right. I absolutely could be. And he could make me feel so incredibly happy, so wonderful, that I could want for positively nothing," she sighed, her mind showing her glimpses of Eren, his beautiful green eyes staring at her with that pitiful look, asking her, begging her to stay with him. She had crushed his heart that day. "But he wouldn't. I love Eren, Captain, I really do. And I'd lay my life down to make sure he kept his. Just as you would. But he's not you."

Mikasa resumed sponging Levi's back, the sting from the soap and what she had just said tugging at his heart, the one thing he wished he'd been born without.

"You see, Captain, Eren and I share the same feelings. We'd both risk everything for each other; that's what family does. But instead of allowing me to reciprocate, he would rather choose to lock me away, forcing me to the side and away from this war, where I couldn't be harmed except in the heart. I'd be a prisoner in his love," she whispered, and Levi could hear the tiniest crack in her voice. "What good is a soldier if she's unable to utilize her hard-earned skills and aid her friends when she's buried away in some unforgiving jail cell?"

"You'd be safe, Mikasa," Levi uttered frankly. The inflamed skin was beginning to cool down, and night was falling quickly. "You can't blame him for wanting to–"

"I can and I will, Captain," she said sharply. "It's been seventeen years since his family welcomed me and seventeen years since he's known my ways. I think it's time to stop forgiving his excuses," she sighed, dragging a dry towel over Levi's back. He shuddered from the touch and she pulled away. "You offer me that freedom, Captain. You acknowledge what I have to offer to our cause and order me to lend it to you. You…you…" she trailed off, her voice becoming faint. She closed her eyes.

"If that's all I can do for you–"

"How dare you," Mikasa stood up, flinging the wet towel away. It landed on the wooden floor with a thud. "You know it isn't. I'm not some stupid business transaction you can just forget about later. I love you, Ca–, Levi. And that," she pointed to Levi's shoulder, "proves you love me. Why do you feel like you have to be so emotionless and cold all the time? Trust this," she grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest, her heart resounding so forcefully it pounded against his palm. "If you can't, trust yours," she placed her own palm over his chest, his warm skin calming her. "It's okay to feel."

Levi's breaths were now coming out unevenly, Mikasa's words slowly sinking into his head. Feelings were for the weak his master had always said, and they always bring nothing but pain. Learn to suppress them and victory will seek you out. He touched his shoulder gingerly, the black lines winding in the corner of his eye. "It's been a while since I've had a heart, Mikasa," Levi said forcefully, the words tasting sour in his mouth.

"You've always had it, Captain," she sighed again, taking off her sweater and opening the windows. "Why do you doubt yourself?"

Levi growled. "I don't. I'm just–"

"Scared?" Mikasa offered softly. She sat back down on the bed, slowly pulling off what was left of Levi's shirt. Her heart ached for him, knowing that was exactly what he was feeling; the Captain would never admit it to her openly.

"Fuck." He snarled thinly, waves of frustration, confoundment, and fervor all washing over him at the same time, drowning him in a mess of frenzied confusion. He suddenly sprung at her, flipping her onto her back and trapping her beneath him. She drove him crazy and made him question himself and his ideals more than anybody, something that left him completely bewildered. And yet he admired her for it. No one else could see through him quite like she could.

"It's okay, Levi," she reached out and cupped his face, her hands running through his hair, toying with the thick strands there. A light breeze fluttered through the window, bringing with it the protection of dark and promise of repose. "It's okay," she breathed out again and brought his face to meet hers, her lips exploring his and her hands trying to bring him ever closer. Her brain shut down.

His hands wound in her shirt and she smiled against his mouth, sitting up delicately and helping him remove it. Mikasa whispered something unintelligible in his ear and twisted him under her, resting on his chest. Her hair splayed out between them and he buried his face in it, the flowery smell intoxicating him.

"Don't hide from me," she murmured, leaning down to kiss his dark eyes, but paused when her lips suddenly felt wet. She drew back, salty warmth coating her mouth. "Oh…Levi," she whispered, her heart wrenching. She could only see the outline of his face, but beneath that stony exterior, she knew he was finally breaking.

"Not now, Mikasa," he answered, his voice flat and refusing to reflect what he was feeling inside. "Not now," he snapped again, and Mikasa smiled. Levi wasn't going to change overnight, but that feeling of dread and regret dissipated inside her. She had been fearful when he had asked that question, planting the seed of doubt within her. Had he changed his mind?

But no, he'd been uncertain about himself, and she had realized that even Humanity's Strongest could be insecure about such "trivial" affairs as love. He'd never be free from this self-doubt, she concluded, he was too stubborn and unyielding when it came to these types of things, always shrugging it off until a later, less noticeable time. She'd found him drunk over his desk too many times to continue refusing to believe it.

"This tattoo," she fingered it behind him, "signifies your promise to me, Levi. It means you belong to me, mind, body, and soul. And when my skin is marked tomorrow, I'll be yours. Completely. But I can't do anything with that if you can't trust me."

He shoved into her, his desire pressing against her, and she wondered if he was hearing any of what she was saying at all. Stubborn man.

"You," she breathed out, "I…we…can do this." Every word was punctuated by a kiss from Levi's burning lips, "Just listen to me, Levi. Are you even…?" She lurched as he bit down gently where her neck met her shoulder. "Captain."

"Fuck no," he moaned, his heart pounding a heavy rhythm onto her chest. She could still feel hot tears drip onto her skin.

"In the morning then?" she raised him to meet her eyes in the blackness, refusing to let the matter drop entirely. He needed to know he wasn't going to be alone in this.

Another snarl answered her and she obeyed, stripping off what was left of her clothes and almost ripping off his in her ardor. They lay there for a moment, naked, and she continued to trace his tattoo and the rest of his scars she knew so well.

When she finally initiated, he let her, the tears finally subsiding, and they united in passionate bliss, sweeter than any heaven they had dreamed about.

Here was where they belonged. And here was where they would stay. The freedom they both awarded each other would let them be nowhere else.