"Marley, at the height of its power, could boast over a million soldiers in its Great Army, and could field many more should the need call for the conscription of True Marleyans and other ethnicities of the nation. Paradis, on the other hand, could only dedicate, at best, 250 000 to 300 000 soldiers to the Reconquest without leaving the Home Island dangerously undermanned. And, while early Eldian victories were many, the Neo Eldian Empire's military command feared the results of a war by attrition should they loose the momentum…"

- Marley's Military Might (c.899), by Alex Milton

Fifth Day of the Six Month, Jahr Unseres Gründers c.854

Liberio, Amsel Territory, Continental Marley

When the Island Devils had stormed the barracks, he had expected that to be his last moments. What did demons know of mercy, of taking prisoners? he had thought to himself.

Quite a bit, apparently.

In fact, Niccolo dared to say that his almost preferred being a prisoner-of-war than not being one, though he kept that semi-treasonous thought to himself. Gott, he hadn't even wanted to join the Große Armee in the first place, prestigious or not. He wanted cook, to open a restaurant on the waterfront, or to serve in one. But, noooo, prestige it was to be- his parents had made that quite clear. The military or the streets, penniless.

So, he had signed up for the Marinesoldaten, was immediately promoted to be two ranks above the Eldian rank-and-file, as was the norm, and placed on garrison duty, to the chagrin of his folks. There'd been no prestige to be found serving as what amounted to military police in one of Marley's greatest ports, after all, and a part of Niccolo had been spitefully thankful of the fact. The Mid-East Alliance was far away, as was the war they were fighting, and losing, against the fatherland. Then the war had ended, and he had gotten drunk with Griez and the rest for the first time in his life, before dropping like a sack onto his bed afterwards.

Which meant he slept through almost the entire Eldian invasion of Liberio. Gott, he had been confused when he woke up- at least, for a moment..

Then the fear had set in.

All the members of the garrison had been rounded up and kept in the nearby training compound, under the watchful eyes of their new captors, and rumours had abounded that they'd be all killed- something Niccolo had believed as well. He knew very well what happened to Eldians both within Marley and with-out it, and he imagined the Titaness he had caught a fleeting glance at earlier would be eager to exact vengeance.

And here I am, a month later, cooking food for the enemy. There's a cruel irony there, somewhere.

Instead of being shot and buried in a ditch somewhere, the POWs had been put to various works by the new Eldian administration- nothing too tortuous nor slaving, like some of the other nations liked to use their Eldians for, but work nonetheless. Moving rubble, repairing buildings, clearing the streets of the invasion's aftermath. Cleaning, cooking, preparing rooms for the steady stream of Eldian soldiers pouring in from overseas.

He didn't dare to say so out loud (mildly treasonous asides, it'd probably get his throat slit in the night), but it was… peaceful, in a way. Their captors didn't go out of their way to make their lives scheiße, though some looked like they very, very much wanted to, and Niccolo would be lying if he said they didn't have clause to, considering how we treat their kind over here.

Well, that thought was an obsolete one, actually, Niccolo reminded himself. The Liberio Internment Zone, for all intents and purposes, was gone, its walls torn down by the Titaness that had brought the city to its knees. Eldians, for the first time in his life, were allowed full rein within the city, save certain areas cordoned off by the occupiers, and any Marleyans stupid enough to try and do something about it (which, if Nico recalled correctly, the correct response to an Eldian wandering around the city without an armband or permission was a beating, at best) was promptly stopped by the occupier's garrison force.

…Who look like a strange cross between an old medieval knight and a modern soldier, now that Niccolo thought about it, with their star-emblazoned pickelhaubes, metal cuirasses, and canvas packs. Which was odd, seeing as the soldiers that had attacked Liberio had not worn any of those items, from what he'd heard.

A mystery for another time, he concluded, shrugging the thought away. He still had half an hours of his allotted breaktime left, and Nico had neglected breakfast in favor of getting an early hour of labour out of the way, so the Marleyan stood up, basking in the sun beaming down on the courtyard before turning to head to the mess-hall. Maybe the cooks'll have taken my suggestion to try and not add so much salt. Gott, I could barely eat that stuff last time. I-

Niccolo, stopped, turned to gaze up at the thing that had caught in his periphery vision, and blinked.

…Why is that airship smoking?

"All things considered," Hange mused, patting the soot-covered husk of the airship, "that engine worked better than expecting."

It had been a long and cramped few days spent returning from Eren's- sorry, the Kaiser's- retrieval, and the woman was honestly glad to be back on solid ground, Paradis or no. Though, at the rate the Liberio Eldians were starting to actively leave the boundaries of the old Interment Zone (seeing as the Internment Zone, nor its walls, no longer existed), the city was well on its way to actually become more… well, Eldian. And assuming the Kaiserin-Founder intended to keep the 'two-child' policy in effect when the war ended…

"Hange, the engine exploded."

But, she digressed.

Hange waved a hand dismissively at Armin's note. "Of course it did! No engine's supposed to run that long. Sure, we specifically designed it to last as long as it could so we could even get to the Kaiser, but it just came out of its prototype phase!" She shrugged. "Even the greatest engineering in the world has some problems sometimes."

"Hange, it exploded in mid-air. While we were all inside."

"Semantics."

...Well, the boy wasn't wrong, per-say- or wrong at all, in fact. But hey, they were still alive! That counted as a plus one in Hange's ledgers.

The Feldmarschall's aide-de-camp opened his mouth, closed it, and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "...Right. Gott, I need some caffeine."

Hange chortled as the blonde wandered off towards the headquarters the Queen had taken when they'd first taken the city before striding away from the wreckage in search of Moblit and the rest of her team. The engine had been effective in getting the job done, yes, but that didn't change the fact that it was still crude unwieldy, and prone to exploding.

Let's see if we can change that, shall we?

He honestly should have expected this.

Besides the fact that the airship they'd been in had proceeded to start smoking while in mid-air (before proceeding to descend far faster than it had any right to), everything had gone surprisingly well on their way back to Liberio. Cramped, yes, seeing as they couldn't really afford to land anywhere on the way back, but generally well. In truth, it was the happiest he had been since he had first began his espionage. No more need to hold himself in check, no more having to endure the hardships of their mainland brothers and sisters, no more trying to keep himself from shifting and rampaging across a city whenever he saw a Marleyan flag fluttering in the wind.

It was freedom… in a sense, at least- and Eren had every intention of enjoying it as long as he could.

Then they had landed, if one could even call it that, and Eren cast all of that aside for the time being. Though he didn't enjoy flaunting it, he was the King-Consort of the Queen-Founder, and there were certain things expected of him now- his tutors had been sure to drill that into him as soon as the wedding party back home had ended, and Floch had already told him that he intended to use that in winning over the hearts of the Eldian mainlanders.

Which, Eren supposed, is why he's throwing a parade.

Waiting for them when they had finally made landfall had been what had to have been half of of the garrison Historia had left behind, as well as nearly all of the recently-arrived soldiers from Paradis, all in parade rest. How long they'd been standing there, he didn't know. Gott, if Floch had them standing out here for more than an hour…

But, the assembled soldiers of Paradis didn't seem tired, or bored. Instead, they seemed to straighten when he came into view, unshaven face and all.

"They look happier to see me than the rest of you did," Eren noted dryly, and Franz Kefka rolled his eyes. "Of course they do. They didn't have to spend literal days trapped with you in a blimp."

"Fair enough."

Sasha snickered, Connie barked our a laugh, and the rest of the 104th smothered their grins at the quip.

Eren, on the other hand, didn't brother to hide his. Holt shit, he had missed this. He had missed them.

Then Floch stepped forward, one of his lieutenants handing him a megaphone as he did so, turning to face the assembled soldiers. There was a reason the man was Eldia's Minister of Propaganda, after all.

"SUBJECTS OF YMIR!" Floch cried, arms spread wide with near-maniac grin on his face, and Eren was suddenly reminded why he had been chosen to be the head of Her Majesty's Ministry of Propaganda. "OUR KAISER HAS RETURNED- AND WITH HIM COMES VICTORY!"

As one, the battalions clenched their fists in salutes, backs straightened. "JÄGER SIEGREICH!" they roared, and Eren returned their salute with his one of his own, and a proud grin. Some of the men and women before him had been little more than kadets when he had left Paradis, yet here they stood- the strength and pride of Eldia, fighting for their right to be free.

No, the Holder told himself, not just us. For all our people, everywhere. For her.

And if this was just a fraction of what they could bring to bear, what chance did Marley have?

The Kaiser's grin grew a bit wilder. Gott, it was good to be amongst friends again.

Releasing his salute, Eren took a breath, before nodding to himself. "You can dismiss them now," he told Floch. "No need to keep them standing in the sun. Not that this was necessary in the first place."

The Minister shrugged unapologetically. "What can I say? The mainlanders needed to see a display of loyalty. They have to know that we support both our Queen-Founder and her King-Consort." He pointed over in the direction of where the Internment Zone had been. "You can't see them, but they were watching. That's all they've been doing since we retook this place- waiting, watching, testing the waters before throwing themselves into them. You know, things any sane person would do when faced with their situation."

"So, everyone but us, then."

Floch smirked. "You said it, not me."

Then the two fell silent for a moment, before Armin called out to Eren from a short ways away and the Kaiser moved to heed it. "You're doing Eldia good, Floch," he told the man as he turned away. "Keep it up."

Even now, the words sounded foreign on his lips, too formal for his liking. Too stiff. Yet, Floch seemed to drink them in, straightening and offering a salute of his own before making off to see to his own duties.

"He's quite the handful, huh?"

Jean's voice spoke up from behind him as his friend came to his side, a bundle of letters in one hand. "Then again, he's pretty good at what he does, admittedly. You and Historia chose well. Speaking of which, these were waiting for you."

He held out the hand holding the bundle, and Eren took it, thumb brushing gently over the names penned onto the envelopes. "How recent are these?" he asked softly, and Jean smiled.

"Mikasa's is about a month-and-a-half old," the man replied, voice wistful. "I think she had it telegrammed over before the Hizurese began their own campaigns. Your mom and aunt wrote theirs just before we set off to take Liberio. Historia wrote hers the day before the army marched west. And that last letter's from your grandparents. Historia found them while she was here. They want to talk with you."

The King-Consort nodded again, a small smile of his own spreading across his lips. He'd gone three, lonely years without seeing anything from his family or hearing from most of them, so the letters, especially unexpected additions of his grandparents', were a pleasant surprise. "Thanks, Jean."

"Anytime," Jean returned, before mock-shoving Eren towards the headquarters. "The Queen's room was set aside for you, by the way. A change of clothes, toiletries, and some other stuff are waiting for you. Also, go and shave, for Gott's sake. You look like shit."

"As if you look much better," Eren huffed, feigning indignance, but the idea of getting a shave after weeks of an itchy chin was a welcome one, he would admit. "...But I'll take you up on that offer."

So, giving a departing wave to jean, off the Kaiser went. First, he'd clean himself up, settle in, and read the letters given to him. And then…

Then, he told himself, I'll go talk to my grandparents.

A/N: Aaaand that's done! Eren's back in friendly (albeit occupied) territory, and'll be off to see his wife as soon as possible.

Next chapter should be one from the Marleyan POV, because, at this point, they should be panicking to an extent not seen since the fall of their old empire. And THEN we'll move to see the international POV, and how the Tyburs are going to drum up support against Eldia. Because politics.

And, to answer sponge-flash838's question: a Full Rumbling is most likely off the table. A smaller scale Rumbling, however, is not. That's all I can say on the matter.

Well, till next time, everyone. Merry Christmas!

(your comments give me life, btw. thank you all for the nice words! i literally set aside time just to read them all, sometimes.)