WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

2. Green Wings - Levi x Petra

Green Wings

slowdog

Summary:

For the six whole months since it's creation, the Special Operations Squad has been functioning at a sub-par level and the Commander is not happy. There's a missing piece to their four-man squad...

Notes:

Translation into Français available: Green Wings- [FR] by dandelionscat

I decided to write this because I'd read so many incredible rivetra fics and I was just feeling completely inspired! Also I love the original special ops squad so much and really wanted to selfishly spend some more time with them - as much as this is a romance, it is almost more about the developing friendships within the scout regiment...what bunch of perfect weirdos.

I'm not really a writer but I am a fan of silly jokes and friendship groups that resemble families - I had a lot of fun doing this, so I guess hope you enjoy x

Chapter 1: The Static Training Zone

Chapter Text

Monday

Eld stood quietly in the kitchenette hovering over a questionable cup of black coffee. The sun danced in lazily from the autumn window and he looked down into the swirling liquid. Disgusting. Maybe the new addition to the squad would be able to brew it better than this shocking attempt. He really hoped so.

Everyone had known for a while that the dynamic wasn't working. For six months the four of them relentlessly drilled: waking early, going for four mile runs, sparring and practising different formations with ODM gear, but the atmosphere was constantly tense and confrontations were occurring almost daily.

It wasn't that he didn't like his squad mates per se; Gunther especially was pleasant enough after a tankard of ale, when he actually said anything at all. He supposed Oruo could be fun sometimes…but he was usually such an arrogant dill-hole that that basically became a moot point. Then there was the squad's captain, Levi. He was sullen and distant, but occasionally mustered a sarcastic comment so out of place that it shocked Eld into laughing.

The issue was that they were also all assholes.

None of them appreciated Eld's spark and humour. It was a perpetual struggle to try and raise the collective spirit, only for his efforts to be at best completely ignored and at worst actively discouraged, earning him a clout on the head plus toilet duty. Recently he'd stopped trying altogether.

He dipped a finger into his grainy coffee and stirred it, lifting his hand and watching the liquid run down it with mild disdain. Shit coffee was better than no coffee…right?

Eld, Gunther and Oruo had been selected for the Captain's "Special Operations Squad" for their superior skills and stats, but mainly because they were some of the few soldiers who had actually survived going beyond the wall over several years. They also benefitted from being a bit older than the average scout, which granted them a level of 'wisdom' and 'maturity' necessary to be on such an elite squad…supposedly.

Lately however; with assistance from the ever watchful eye of Commander Erwin, they had come to the conclusion that - though they had made it through all their expeditions as a squad largely unscathed - a rethink was in order. Their survival thus far was due to luck and individual skill, not because they resembled a team in any way; and they were failing spectacularly to accomplish any of the 'special operations' goals set out by the Commander.

He was suddenly haunted by a memory from a recent expedition: he had been pushed out of the way as he was about to kill a titan by Oruo, pulling a muscle in his arm while fumbling to right his fall. All this because Oruo wanted to improve his 'solo kill count'. That guy was such a selfish jackass. Furthermore Gunther had disappeared for the best part of twenty minutes while the Captain shouted for him, and when they returned to the barracks it came to light that he had in fact been assisting an entirely different squad for reasons which remained, to this day, completely unclear.

A clattering in the hallway stirred him from his thoughts and he looked up to a very dishevelled Oruo barreling into the room.

"Hmph. Didn't think to knock on my door then?" he grumbled.

Eld shrugged and returned to his horrible drink. He wondered if his own bitterness had somehow crept into the coffee as he'd made it.

He flinched, becoming aware of a dark shadow at the edge of his vision and span to see Gunther leaning against the wall.

What the - how long had he been there? There was no way he could have gotten there without walking directly past Eld. It was highly likely that Gunther was some kind of night…bandit…before joining the military. He narrowed his eyes. Were there day bandits? He wasn't sure.

"Great. You're all up."

The Captain's voice grated through the morning air in its classic low and grumbling way.

"You're running laps of the second ODM run this morning, so go and get your gear now. Eld's in charge. I have a meeting with Erwin followed by surveying other squads. I'll join you in the afternoon."

He turned back towards the doorway, freezing in step;

"Oh and Eld?"

"Yes Captain?"

"Clean that shit up." He gestured to the single drip of coffee that had run off of Eld's hand onto the kitchen counter.

…

"Right."

But he was already gone. The three remaining men stood in silence for forty-five years…though in reality it was about eight seconds.

"Come on then." Eld mustered, dutifully wiping up the drip and rinsing his cup.

"Whatever." Said Oruo, huffily moving towards the door and straightening his jacket. Gunther wordlessly followed him out.

"Cool." Eld sighed and trundled after them.

Levi neared the end of the long corridor and stopped, looking directly at the heavy door to Commander Erwin's office. If he had to listen to Erwin even begin to utter the phrase 'team-building exercise' again he was going to break a chair, and they were already in short supply due to the regiment's tight budget.

Not that he cared about that particularly. Tch, pathetic. Sitting down for long periods of time was for the weak.

He continued and firmly rapped on the door.

"Come in."

The Commander didn't look up from his laden desk,

"Ah, Levi - please, take a seat."

Levi's eyes narrowed towards Erwin, who was rearranging a stack of reports intently. Classic, the paper shuffle; a move Erwin used to seem busier and smarter than anyone he spoke to in his office. Except…he was busier and smarter than anyone he spoke to, office or otherwise, and Levi was in a predictably pissy mood and needing to dig at anyone or anything that dared appear in his field of vision.

"I'll stand." He stated shortly.

"Hmm…one of these days Captain."

Levi looked blank.

"…What?"

"Never mind. Ignore me." Erwin smiled and looked up, having gotten his affairs in order. "So I presume you'll want the other squads' schedules this morning?"

Levi gave a barely perceptible nod.

"If you're taking the mornings for observation you could probably get around about two squads a day; that should give you enough time to assess the key candidates. I thought it would be best for you to start off with Anna's squad and observe them on the ODM runs - they will be on the fifth run. Then head over with them to the sparring grounds, that way you'll get a clearer idea of overall skillsets. You can continue on this way cycling through squads for the rest of the week. I look forward to you reporting to me on Friday afternoon with your recommendation."

Erwin nonchalantly held out a single sheet of paper and Levi snatched it.

"Anything else?" Levi asked, tilting his head to one side, his unshifting eyes set in a bored glaze.

"Yes, actually."

Erwin stared at him for a moment, furrowing his large brows. Levi blinked.

"Well spit it out. These brats aren't gonna assess themselves."

"What will you do if this doesn't go the way you want it to?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that I already gave you the opportunity to select a squad, and you seem to have struggled to pick in the first instance."

"…"

"Right. Then I'll rephrase. What makes you think adding another soldier will improve the performance of the team?"

"Gut feeling."

Erwin sniffed.

"I hope you realise that if this doesn't go well you will have wasted a lot of people's time. Not to mention the regiment still won't have a functioning Special Operations squad."

"Then let's hope the gamble pays off." Levi raised his eyebrows a touch.

Something flashed across Erwin's eyes and he slowly smiled, returning his attention to his work.

"Oruo! Fall back - ORUO! Damn it- "

Eld was shouting across the run but the daft prick continued on his downward trajectory towards the dummy titan's neck at the same time as Gunther pulled up from underneath it, having disarmed its 'legs'…

"NO DON'T- "

The two men collided with some force just above the kill point on the nape, falling back in both directions like rag-dolls and coming to hang down either side of the dummy with a slight jolt, still somehow hooked in with their gear. Through the commotion Eld swore he could see a tiny spurt of blood from Oruo's almost certainly bitten tongue.

"For fuck's sake."

He zoomed towards them, landing on the fake titan's head, eyes to the ground. For a moment there was total stillness, then he sliced the material from the neck in a swift and even motion - almost casually. A perfect cut. The two invalids began to groan and shift from their positions.

"Hey - uh, sir - you really shouldn't - I mean…we're low on materials and - er - it's not like the titan would have just stayed still while- "

Eld turned and stared daggers at the cadet located on the ground below, who, if he were being honest, was just doing his job.

Cadets and lower ranking soldiers were sometimes stationed to move parts of the dummy titans 'realistically' so that the ODM runs had at level of unpredictability resembling expeditions. In reality the movements were nowhere near the real thing, but some movement was better than no movement at all and the constant improvements meant fewer and fewer young scouts were dying on their first expedition…though the number was still too high for comfort…any number was too high…

He relaxed his gaze.

"Sorry. Force of habit I guess."

The cadet smiled nervously back at him.

"Are they…uh…are they alright?" The young lad gestured towards the two hanging scouts, who were in the slow and dizzy process of winding themselves down to the forest floor.

"They'll be fine. They're supposed to be pros, though I suppose you wouldn't know after that performance. It's their pride that'll take the most damage."

"Shall I call a medic sir?"

"No…leave it to me. They don't deserve a medic. You might as well get everyone on duty on this run to take a break. It's close to lunch anyway and I doubt we'll be running it again before then."

"Oh wow - thank you sir!"

The cadet skipped off into the fallen leaves. Eld shook his head and descended to the forest floor.

"Urghhh" Oruo groaned, dusting himself down. A tiny splodge of blood decorated his shirt collar.

Eld Smirked.

"I think I have a concussion…" Gunther was rubbing his temples with small pressured circles.

Eld turned and started walking back towards the main site.

"Let's get lunch." He muttered, deflated.

"Wait - you don't want to discuss what just happened?" Gunther asked, tailing him. Oruo followed, his hands in his pockets.

"I'll write it up in the report for the Captain."

"Just make sure you include that Gunther has no spatial awareness." Oruo grunted.

"-And that Oruo is a fucking loose cannon." Gunther retorted.

"Thank you for your…frankly extremely observant suggestions. Now why was it you couldn't be so observant in the field? You know, where it actually mattered?"

"Look, it isn't my fault that Gunther is so damn slow. I had already dispatched my own target, I was doing him a favour by getting his as well."

Gunther exhaled aggressively through his nose. "Fuck you."

"That isn't very grateful, Gunther. Had this been an expedition I would have just saved your life."

Eld stopped in his tracks.

"Had this been an expedition we'd all be dead. You know what? I can't be bothered. Gunther, take everyone's gear and get it oiled. Oruo, go and sort out the squad's laundry. Eat whenever and wherever the hell you want. I'll see you at two thirty for knife skills with the Captain."

"…You'd make me carry all this equipment with a concussion?"

Eld inhaled deeply.

"Fine. If you're going to be a little bitch about it give me the equipment and head over to medical."

For a split second Gunther seemed almost guilty, but as quickly as it appeared the guilt dissipated and he stalked off, having dumped his equipment at Eld's feet.

"Great." He mumbled to no-one, quickly realising that Oruo had separately paced off towards the barracks.

At some point on the slow and laden walk to the equipment sheds he realised he was humming. Briefly caught off guard that he could be humming without realising, he recognised the jaunty kind of tune as that his mother would sing while cooking. Ah…home…he missed it. It was warm and jolly and full of laughter. There was never an awkward moment and the conversation zipped between him, his parents and his two brothers as freely and easily as gliding through the trees with ODM gear.

As the eldest and (they often joked) the Eldest, he was constantly finding new and creative ways to pull pranks on his siblings; sometimes enlisting their help to get each other. Once he even teamed up with the pair of them to throw a bucket of molasses and a sack of feathers over their father…who had taken the whole incident surprisingly well, not even blaming them for his sudden fear of chickens, or the bald patches that appeared on his arms afterwards and were still there to this day.

He rounded the corner towards the sheds and halted, almost ramming into another soldier and losing his grip of Oruo's equipment, which clattered to the floor.

"Moblit?"

"Oh, Eld! Hello!"

The sandy haired scout smiled widely and nodded towards him, and Eld noted the small bundle of flyers he was hampered with.

"Sorry - let me help you with that…"

Moblit began to awkwardly move as though to help Eld pick up the dropped equipment but seemed to simultaneously realise that picking things up when his hands were full of flyers was not going to be easy.

"No problem - I've got it. What brings you down to the equipment shed? Shouldn't you be chasing Hange around with a bunsen burner or something?"

"Actually I - Ha! Well Nifa should be doing that right now. With any luck she'll have remembered the delivery of safety goggles that - you don't need to know that. I'm er - on a quick break to distribute these…"

He vaguely waved the flyers and they flopped about weakly.

"What's this?" Eld peered over the pile to try and get a clearer view of the text and what appeared to be a rather hilarious drawing of…was that meant to be a trumpet?

"It's the um- " he cleared his throat, "We're looking for anyone who wants to join the new Scout band."

Eld couldn't contain the laugh that erupted from him, but his levity was quickly quelled when he saw Moblit's lame smile, and immediately backtracked -

"Oh, uh sorry. I didn't mean…you just surprised me that's all."

"Don't worry about it. You aren't the first person to react like that to be honest." Moblit looked a little red and shaken up.

"Is this a new…undertaking?"

"Well…yes it's a recent thing…a few of us realised that we liked to play music while at the pub a couple of weeks ago and we put in a request to Commander Erwin. We've fixed up the old mill building at the edge of the base and we're gonna start er - jamming - together on some of our free evenings, before curfew of course! The Commander was surprisingly enthusiastic and he even asked me to make and distribute these; he said something about using free time wisely and how music is a 'team-building' activity, it was all a little odd. Anyway…uh…it's gonna be Wednesdays and Fridays if you're ever interested…"

Eld thought of his jaunty humming.

"I'll pass. But, I mean, good for you! Maybe I'll come drink and hear you guys play sometime."

Moblit smiled widely,

"I'll have to let you know if we're any good first."

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. Levi didn't even bother asking his squad how the morning training had gone after seeing the looks on their faces when they showed up for the afternoon. He didn't question the bandage around Gunther's head, or the fact that, despite being sent to do laundry, Oruo was still wearing a shirt with a blood-stained collar. Tch.

They, in turn, didn't ask how his assessments had gone, which ended up being somewhat of a blessing, as he hadn't had gained any clarity from overseeing the morning drills. There was always tomorrow. And the rest of the week. To make this pretty substantial decision. Damn, it wasn't long. Surely he was due a bit of luck?

The group dragged their feet back to the Special Ops barracks.

Each of the elite squads had their own small section of the barracks, separate from the men's and women's standard barracks - a perk, if you liked your squad. The main benefit was one shower between one squad, rather than having to queue at the shower points with everyone else, and the kitchenette that provided the capacity for tea and coffee, as well as basic meals if anyone could be bothered to cook. There was also a compact yet comfy area for 'socialising' next to the kitchenette.

Levi recalled Eld's first day on the squad, kitting out a corner with board games and carting in a crate of beer he had swiped from somewhere or other, a look of pure excitement slapped across his big dumb blonde face. Yeah, like they were gonna play games in their free time. Needless to say, his joy had been short lived as he was frequently the only member of the squad sat on the threadbare couch drinking.

"Chess is a one man game anyway!" He huffed on one occasion.

The moment they set foot in the door, the squad wordlessly dissipated to their separate rooms (another perk of their barracks, not having to bunk together) and that was that. Another day done.

Predictably unable to sleep, Levi slowly paced his dorm, his mind flitting through possible selections from the day.

Marlene had certainly shown potential: she was fast and had an aptitude for decking a full grown man, but she was too indecisive in the field. A liability.

Lucas was easily the best combatant of the sparring matches he'd seen. But sparring was one of the least important of a soldier's skills when It came to killing titans. Could Lucas really be the glue to bring the team together and get them working as one? Not likely.

Dirk's ODM skills were the envy of his unit, but he was a write off. There was no way the squad could take an Oruo 2.0. And he had an even shittier beard than Eld (it turned out it was possible!) which Levi was sure would distract him to the point of endangering his life on an expedition. No; one shitty beard was enough for one squad.

He sighed, pushing through his door and heading towards the common room. His eyes widened a touch as he saw Eld sat at the table, the embers of a fire dying out in the hearth and a cup of tea steaming in front of him. He was writing, but looked up on hearing the floorboards creak.

"Oh, Captain. Hi."

Levi stood for a moment and considered dissolving back to his room without a word.

"There's still tea in the pot if you want, sir."

Tea was the reason he made his way to the kitchen in the first place; it wasn't something Levi liked to to pass up. And he liked to pass up most things. Even Eld's inconsistently brewed tea was worth a try.

He fetched a cup and poured, coming to lean on the kitchen counter, his brow fixed in a frown.

"Writing…at this hour?"

Eld cleared his throat and held up the sheet of paper:

"Once again Oruo didn't listen to instructions and went off on his own merry way doing whatever tasks he felt like doing. Gunther was too focused on himself and closed off to his surroundings to pay attention to what was happening, and so, despite my constantly shouting directions to the team, the morning's training was a complete and utter failure."

"…hm."

Eld shrugged, and returned to writing.

"Well if it's any consolation Eld; this tea is…fine." He nodded slowly, and took another large sip.

"Did you find the new squad member yet sir?"

"No. Not yet."

A warm silence fell over the small room. Eventually Eld stood, draining his cup and going to rinse it off in the sink, holding out his report for the Captain to take on his way.

"Well Captain - goodnight. I hope you have more luck tomorrow." And he swiftly exited.

Levi scanned the paper quickly, before folding it and stowing it in his coat. He washed his cup and departed into the night.

A chill wind was punctuating what was otherwise an uncharacteristically warm evening. The moon was full in the clear sky, and pleasantly illuminating the sporadic trees and uneven ground of the static training zone; so called because the titan mannequins were far less sophisticated than on the ODM runs: they couldn't be manipulated and acted instead as big flat wooden targets.

The idea behind this zone was for squads to speed around it, eliminating the randomly placed dummies (which could be taken out with a simple strike of a blade) as quickly as possible. It was also different to a regular ODM run in that there were a lot more targets, fewer trees and other higher spots to hook onto when using the gear, and the main challenge was in the squad leader quickly knowing how to split the team to hit different points, and reconvening. The area was large and spread out, rather than contained into a shifting circuit as the ODM runs were, and as such there were several shacks for supplies stationed at random through it, which were lit with small oil lamps like small beacons in the dark.

On clear nights squads could apply to train here after curfew, though this was limited to once every three months. This particular evening it was Squad Clara's turn.

"Remember to count the number of targets you eliminate! And no lying. I'll find out."

Clara was a tall, stocky woman - hardy too, having survived a few years of expeditions: a real veteran. Despite this, she was only fairly recently appointed as a squad captain. At the heart of her intense gaze was a softness; she cared deeply for her team.

"If you mess up the counting we won't know our proper time or if we've fully completed the exercise, and this evening will have been wasted - you might as well have gone to the pub. So please for the love of god remember. Also! Make sure you keep your ears open, the whole point of this is to listen and intuit the movements of the whole squad; visibility is obviously down, and you won't be able to rely on flares. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" The squad chorused.

"Good. Thats 32 targets to eliminate total. Now, on my signal!"

Clara fired a noise round signalling the start of the time.

"Stefan, Peter and Hannah - veer left. Julia, Gerd, Petra, you take the right hand side. Whoever's left with me through the centre, everyone fan out and pay attention! Reassemble on the northern edge, then we'll return to the start as a group."

They zipped off in their separate directions.

Petra had been looking forward to the evening training. It was so long since she was last out on the grounds past curfew and she loved the cool dusk air and the blue tinge the night gave the trees. Using the ODM gear was easily the best part of being in the military, and Petra was certainly no rookie. She glided, span and swept through the trees in a balletic fashion, hands down the fastest member of her squad.

She dove, slashing a target clean in half and propelling herself back into the higher branches. She wasn't confident with solo kills beyond the walls, having only one to her name…at this kind of target practise though, she was a regular expert.

"Nice hit!" Julia called out to her from a few trees away.

"Thanks!"

"Don't lose count now - how many's that, three?"

"Four actually. You?"

"Shit, only two… ugh."

Petra laughed, "Looks like you have some catching up to do Jules."

Petra, Julia and Hannah all shared a dorm room since being thrown together in Clara's squad.

They instantly became close, eventually returning from several expeditions as a unit. Their trio also attracted some attention for being an awkward looking combination of people; Commander Pixis, the head of the Garrison regiment, had once seen them in the mess hall and described the group as "physically interesting". None of them were sure if it was meant to be a compliment or not. Going by Pixis's track record…it wasn't. If anything, it was creepy.

Hannah was five foot eleven, taller even than a lot of the male scouts. She had dull blonde hair that she always wore pulled into a tight bun, and dark sparkling eyes that were hungry for gossip.

Julia or 'Jules' was around five foot six; she was broad shouldered and tenacious with a large amount of unruly curly brown hair that often fell into her face and caused her a number of troubles in the field.

Then there was Petra…a five foot two pasty elfin looking woman with giant pleading doe eyes and a shoulder length mop of ginger hair.

The rest of squad Clara called them 'the three bears' and had invented an in-game where they tried to make sure the three of them were always stood in a height descending line, and when they were successful someone shouted "Goldilocks!", and each member of the trio had to buy a round of drinks…not that they ever made good.

Since Petra's graduation from the cadets, Hannah and Julia had been indispensable to her. Most of her friends from those days had joined other regiments, or been placed in completely different squads so they didn't get to see each other too much. It was a tough, life-threatening job, so having close trustworthy companions to blow off steam was crucial to staying sane, and each of them had in turn helped the other two through the losses of dear friends.

A bright determination spread through her chest. She cut down another target and breezed to the northern edge of the training area. This was important. What they were doing was important; it was fundamental to humanity's understanding of the world. How could she not be a part of that?

Levi started, hearing the familiar zip of ODM gear and distant shouts. He had ventured outside to axe firewood. It was either that or go for a run, and he wasn't going to blow off steam by going for a pissing run. No, he needed to smash things. Or at least hack them up roughly. That was a sure fire way to stop all this damned thinking he couldn't seem to stop doing. Ideally he would be speeding through the trees to clear his mind, but the squad's gear was locked away in the equipment stores in the evenings (curfew rules) so he would have to make do with obliterating some timber.

He turned toward the trees, painted in moonlight against the inky sky. He could just about make out the ropes which dictated the edges of the static training zone. Of course there was a squad practising this evening; it was a perfect night for it. He squinted into the expanse, trying to pick out any activity or any standing targets that would indicate how the squad was faring, when a shadow streamed through the branches.

The figure hooked under a large low down branch and, after passing under it, allowed themselves to fall backwards, releasing the hooks and turning fully upside down, their blades smoothly dispatching a target in a strong sideways motion before twisting round and hooking back upwards in a full, perfect spiralling semicircle. The movement was positively acrobatic, perhaps a little showy, but they didn't seem to use too much gas in the undertaking either.

It was impressive.

In the time it took for him to consider what he'd seen, the shadow had melted away into the trees, continuing its nimble journey.

Well, he wasn't expecting that. For minutes he stood in contemplation. Should he go to the entrance to the zone and wait for the squad to leave? Then what? He supposed whoever it had been was a woman; for one thing the figure was pint-sized…though maybe that wasn't an accurate assessment - he was a runt himself after all. Would he have any way of knowing which member of the squad it was just by looking at them anyway? He hadn't seen nearly enough. It was better he find out whose squad was training this evening, then he could fast track them up his observation schedule. Yes. That could work.

Even if this graceful shadow was talented on ODM and swift at target dispatch, that still didn't mean they would be the right person for his squad. Maybe their field track record was bad. Maybe they had a shitty beard. Tch, here he was again thinking and thinking. He grabbed the axe and slammed it downwards, completely destroying whatever was left of the log that was there.

He'd go in the morning and request the squad leader's name.

Chapter 2: Sabotage

Chapter Text

Tuesday

"Hey! Hey - wake up! Dude!"

Petra sleepily opened her eyes to a frizz of dark locks and two judging eyes. Julia had part climbed the ladder to her bunk and was violently shaking her.

Despite her sunny outlook, she wasn't really a morning person. It didn't help that none of them had gotten back to the barracks until the early hours.

"Pfft Petra - you're gonna get us all in trouble again."

"Again?" She mustered, "Can't remember doing that before." She sat up with a smile and drowsily rubbed her eyes.

"Here." Julia threw an undershirt and bra at her and turned to leave. "It's amazing to me that you can sleep through that bell. Quick, get ready. And quit your yawning, breakfast'll be done soon. Actually, why don't you head straight outside, I'll grab you some bread if there's any left."

"Oh, thanks!" She beamed gratefully, throwing off her night clothes and pulling her bra and top over herself. Darn it all, she really didn't want to get fifty push ups for oversleeping.

She climbed down from the bunk, pulled open the chest of drawers and threw out items seemingly at random. She still had to go and pick up her gear. No wait; wasn't it circuit training this morning? Where? Boy was she groggy. She raced to pull on her underwear and trousers, then fumbled with her boots, but found her rushing hands actually slowed down the process as her fingers were tripping over the buckles in their impatience. Ugh.

Eventually fully dressed, she slammed into the tiny bathroom and flung cold water into her face.

Wake up! Wake up dammit!

Her toothbrush thrashed about her mouth and she deliberately avoided looking directly at herself in the small mirror; seeing her dishevelled reflection would only serve to tumble her into nervous flustering, and she didn't have time for that.

She raced down the halls and out into the courtyard, frantically turning her head in search of any members of her squad.

"Hey Ral!"

She sighed and then giggled in mild relief as she saw Hannah pacing towards her, shaking her head.

"Classic Petra." She smirked, taking a bite out of a small round of bread.

"I don't understand why everyone is giving me that this morning?!" Petra stated incredulously, her eyes widening. "This isn't a regular thing!"

"Sure thing short-stuff. Let's head, we're in the gym on hand to hand combat."

Wow. She really didn't remember their schedule at all. Maybe she wasn't as cut out for night training as she'd thought, it had done a number on her today.

They turned and began making their way towards the gym.

"Didn't manage to find a hairbrush then?" Hannah quirked an eyebrow.

Oh flip. She hadn't even thought about it.

"Oh…oh god does it look that bad?" She stammered, her cheeks flushing crimson.

"Let's just pray that no birds fly past looking for a new nest." Hannah laughed. "Oh, actually," She pulled something out of her pocket; "I found this in the mess hall, thought you might be interested."

Petra was desperately smoothing her tousled mane, and didn't immediately see Hannah hold out a small piece of paper with a drawing of…was that supposed to be a trumpet?

"What's this?" She peered at the strange design intently, "A Scouts Band?"

"Yeah; I dunno, I just saw it - seemed like your cup of tea. You're always banging on about that old guitar your dad fixed up for you."

Petra stared down at the flyer. If the design was anything to go by this band would be truly terrible.

"Heads up!"

A small and rock hard round of bread hurled through the air and absolutely pelted Petra in the chest. All the wind was knocked from her body as she rigidly caught the tiny loaf in her free hand.

"What the - Jules!"

Julia winked, "You're welcome. It was basically the last one. Now come on, they're all waiting on us."

Dusty light flowed in from the large windows of the gym, where Clara had lined up her squad, preparing to split them into twos for hand to hand combat skills practice. Levi stood leaning up against the far wall, his arms crossed and an unwavering glare plastered across his face as he surveyed each member of this new squad. He righted his cravat irritably.

The worker in the office had weakly let him know (after nearly ten minutes of flustered searching for the schedule) that it was Clara's squad that were training the previous evening in the static training zone. It then took them a further ten minutes and several upturned desks to find out where Clara's squad were this morning; frankly it was a miracle he was there on time at all.

He had perhaps come across a little more intensely than he'd meant to in his demanding of the information, but everyone who worked in the office was a total moron, and he simply couldn't be expected to deal well with idiocy, especially when they had one job and it was so damn simple.

It was clear that Clara's squad were uneasy in his presence, being entirely unprepared for it. That's life, full of surprises. Get the hell over it and stop trembling like a class of dumb school-children.

The motley crew were shiftily glancing his way pretty much constantly; they had been since Clara explained to them that his surveying them today was "part of protocol".

None of the scouts so far had been told about the new position in his squad. Erwin wanted to keep the their training regimes as 'normal' as possible; it was obvious that any surveillance by a superior officer would have some kind of an effect on a squad's performance, but he feared their behaviour would change exponentially if they suspected they were 'auditioning' for such an elite team. 'The Levi Squad' as it was affectionately termed. He publicly hated it, but was embarrassed to internally admit a tiny blip of pride when he heard the term used out and about. Even if his squad was currently an utter shambles.

Without warning, the doors to the gym flew open and Clara appeared to rupture at the seams;

"Where the HELL have you three been?! What time do you call this?"

Clara's rage was no doubt greatly elevated by Levi's presence. Rightly so; it was an embarrassment to have members of your team turn up late on a regular day, never mind when "Humanity's Strongest" decided to pop in to assess you at random.

The three women in the doorway gawped and apprehensively saluted.

If it were possible, the motley crew that made up Clara's squad had just gotten motlier. They were a bizarre combination; their heights, complexions and general energies varying wildly, to the point of near comedy. Levi almost snorted when he caught wind of the tiny ginger one at the end; she was saluting, but she looked cross, determined and red-faced - all of which was funny enough on its own without the fact that her mouth was stuffed with a breakfast roll.

An influx of 'sorrying' babbled from the three and Clara turned away dismissively.

"We don't have time for this now. You'll be disciplined later. LINE UP!"

The three soldiers scrambled into the line, not seeming to notice the Captain lurking by the wall. Good. It could be fun to see which of them would have a heart attack first.

Clara busily began pairing them all up, and instructed them to begin. He imagined it was difficult to pair up such multifarious team members and play to all of their strengths, but she seemed to be completely confident in her decisions and it was playing through into the combat he was witnessing.

Even if he didn't find a suitable candidate here, it was surely beneficial to him to watch a squad leader with such a firm grasp on unit dynamics. They diligently followed her orders; she was hard with them, but friendly enough that they didn't seem terrified. Not that he wanted to suddenly become a fountain of boundless charisma, befriending all the scouts and tucking every member of his squad into bed or whatever it was 'affable' people did, but even he could admit he had some way to go in unifying the current members of his team. A new squad mate could not fix every problem they had, no matter how impeccable they were.

…Though he did enjoy the 'I've actually just shit my pants in fear' looks he got from scouts from time to time, so maybe if he could unify them without giving that up…

A glance across the tussling bodies and he picked out three, maybe four that were small enough to be the contorting image he'd seen flitting through the trees the previous evening. If that person were identified, he could quickly ascertain if they were right for his requirements, or rule them out. As it was, knowing they were here was distracting him from fully paying attention to the other squad members, and he didn't want to miss out on a different potential candidate for being distracted with wondering.

He pushed off the wall to begin his measured patrol.

—

Petra couldn't believe the combination of events that made up this botched morning. She was starving, having had only a single bite of bread before flinging it unceremoniously from her mouth to stammer an apology to her squad captain. She was dressed totally wrongly to be doing combat, her hair was an absolute state and she was pretty sure she was going to get a nosebleed from stress.

Gerd looked down at her (most people did…because they had no choice, she was just that small) and readied his fists. His full brow was furrowed in deep concentration and it seemed that the very act of furrowing it had caused him to sweat. The tiny beads of water sitting amid the dark blond hairs looked like little pins shining in a pin cushion. Why was he so tense? It wasn't like she ever beat him while sparring.

Pay attention Ral! It was always her father's voice she heard when she noticed her mind wandering aimlessly. She must be tired. She wasn't usually this unfocused…

Wait - was that?

No, it couldn't be…

Oh god.

Time seemed to entirely stop the moment she spotted the Captain skulking about the gym with all the casual energy of a stalking panther.

She'd never seen 'Humanity's Strongest' up this close before, even though they were part of the same regiment, and she was sure he was only seen when he wanted to be. For expeditions he was always up at the front with the Commander, and she could count on one hand the times she'd seen him around the barracks or in the mess hall and common areas.

That must mean he wanted to be seen now. But why? Fuck. If they'd been on time they would have definitely been briefed about this. She owed a lot of people a lot of drinks.

He was short, famously so, but with the presence of a fifteen metre titan. His sharp features and piercing eyes bore into the fighting pairs with freezing judgement, and she was nearly bowled over by the intensity, having never imagined his wilful glare to be this potent close up.

She bit into her lip unwittingly as said gaze rounded on her with all the might of a jackhammer. Her throat seemed to fall slowly down through her body, like a cold drop of honey oozing off a spoon.

Time resumed at breakneck pace as Gerd's fist made contact with the side of her face and she plummeted to the floor.

"Uh - Petra?"

Gerd's voice was shaky. She opened her eyes and for a second it was like she was back in her bunk being chided by Jules.

"You didn't even try to duck. I - I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

He extended a clammy hand and she quickly grabbed it. Get back up! For the love of god get back up right now!

"Yeah, yeah - I'm ok. Let's go."

After a second of bewilderment, Gerd resumed his stance and this time she was ready. She dodged and weaved his bulky swipes, lifting her leg and hitting him solidly across the chest with her thigh, before he out-manoeuvred her and flipped her back to the ground. …Well at least that was more like how it usually went.

—

There was something about this little ginger scout that piqued Levi's interest. Perhaps it was because she seemed so shambolic it was beggar's belief. You surely couldn't teach that level of disarray. She'd been knocked over within seconds of catching his eye, which was one thing, but her sparring was also pallid at best. It was baffling to him that she was one of the small number that fit the profile of his ODM sprite. She was actually, in size and shape (and nothing else so far, he should add), the strongest match for it. Surely someone so graceless couldn't pull off a flawless dispatch like the one he'd seen a night ago.

Mind you, the others that fit the description weren't exactly blowing him away. They were a little more put together, sure, but their movements even when accurate were still a bit clumsy. He sighed, returning to his spot on the wall. It was going to be a long morning.

"The ODM run sir?" Hannah asked, stunned, "On the schedule it says we're riding now?"

"If you'd been on time this morning Müller, you would know that our plans have changed." Clara nodded in Levi's direction as she led the antsy squad towards the equipment shed. "The Captain doesn't need to assess how well you can all ride a horse."

"Understood…" she mumbled, "Sir."

She fell back to where Julia and Petra were ambling a few feet behind.

"So, what do you think it'll be Hannah - latrine duty? Mucking out the stables for a week?" Julia inquired.

"I'm really sorry guys." Petra whispered.

She hadn't taken her eyes from the ground since they left the gym. A mist of pure shame and guilt had descended on her following the morning's adrenaline. She hated that she'd fallen flat on her face in front of the Captain Levi, but more than that she hated being the reason her two friends were in anyone's bad books. Maybe she would go to Clara in a free moment before they started up on the ODM run and explain that it had all been her fault and that Hannah and Jules were just looking out for her…if it wasn't for Julia, she wouldn't have even managed to get out of bed this morning.

Hannah cast a long arm over Petra's shoulder. It was quite a feat and she had to crouch to do it properly. She looked at her genuinely, with only a flash of humour.

"Hey, I mean…it's cool. You paid for it with that punch you took back there. Which reminds me…how is your head?"

Petra smiled coyly, "…haven't had any complaints yet."

"There she is! That's more like it!" Jules erupted, punching her in the arm while Hannah ruffled her hair.

Gosh she didn't deserve to know such angels.

"If it is mucking out the stables for a week," Hannah ventured, "Then I would like to propose that you owe us two dares, which are to be redeemed by me at a time of my choosing."

"Make that one dare and one truth." Jules added, "Redeemed by either of us. Or maybe you could just wingman me sometime."

Petra giggled. They knew how to pull the weight from her in seconds. And they were heading to do more ODM training, so she had that to look forward to. The good thing about starting a day so shoddily was that it could only get better, right?

"Tuesday, oh Tuesday! Cleaning restrooms day!" Oruo was singing from their shared bathroom.

"Don't give up your day job!" Eld yelled from the hall, where he was mopping the floor.

The three of them were kitted out in the classic Levi squad cleaning attire: one white bandana covering one's hair, one over the nose and mouth, and marigolds. It was just as much of a uniform for them as the harness for their gear, or their green cloaks.

Gunther was washing the walls in the kitchenette. It had never once been used to cook in, and was completely spotless, but it still wasn't up to the Captain's standards somehow.

"Is that a real song?" he asked sincerely. Even if he had said it loud enough, Oruo wouldn't have been able to hear over his own crooning a corridor away.

"Fuck knows." Eld responded, wringing and dunking the old mop.

"Sometimes…" Oruo paused. He had stopped singing was leaning in the doorway, his white bandana pulled down from his prematurely lined mouth.

"What?" Eld looked at him, a hand on his hip.

Oruo's eyes went dark for a moment.

"Sometimes it feels like my day job is cleaning toilets."

"Boo-hoo. Did you ever consider becoming an actor? You're self indulgent enough."

Oruo scowled and slammed the door to the bathroom.

"Bit harsh." Gunther said. "Say…did you hand that report in to the Captain?"

"Yeah, I did it last night."

For a time there was only the damp sound of the mop swilling around the floorboards. Then, faintly, Oruo's song started up again through the door. Ok; at least he hadn't been so pissed off he would stop singing his weird song, which strangely enough Eld was quite enjoying.

Gunther cleared his throat.

"Uh…did you by any chance write up that I have no spatial awareness?"

Gunther was serious as ever. Eld turned to him with a solemn expression.

"Not in those exact words. I did mention that you weren't paying full attention to your surroundings."

Gunther sarcastically exhaled and rolled his eyes.

"What did you want me to say? You weren't. Did you want me to lie to the captain?"

"No."

"Well then."

Another elongated pause. Eld was feeling on edge. As much as they pissed him off and jerked him around, in some ways he wasn't keen on his 'authority' over them as second-in-command. It created a distance between him and them. Today they were even being agreeable. He wondered if he hadn't been put charge in the Captain's absence, if he might have been able to get closer to them; take Oruo down a peg or two, draw Gunther out of his shell. More than anything he was just tired of it all, and it meant he was lashing out at them. They deserved it, but still.

"How's your head?" He asked Gunther casually, referencing the bandage from yesterday's collision.

"Hm. The ringing's stopped."

"That's good."

The minutes ticked on in disinfectant-filled silence.

The third ODM run. The one with the stream. It was her favourite. Actually, the fifth one with the really mossy banks was pretty good too…it was a tie between them.

She hadn't managed to pull Clara to the side before they were called to attention, but she would not forget. There would be time in the evening, in the mess hall perhaps, or the officer's common room.

Petra had many flaws, but she was self aware enough to take responsibility for when she'd dicked someone over or made a mistake, something her father had drummed into her from a young age. Now was the time for redemption and she planned to rise like a a purposeful and repentant phoenix from the 'holy-shit-I'm-a-hot-mess' ashes.

The wind whistled through her ears as she weaved and span through the trees.

If it wasn't that they were so often using the gear to murder man-eating titans, then this surely had to be one of the most calming things you could do; somehow simultaneously thrilling and relaxing. The Government should make ODM resorts, like Ski resorts where families could go on vacation and fly about. Yeah, that would be cute.

She internally laughed at herself; had she forgotten the amount of training to you had to do to be good at this? It was incredible for clearing one's mind, but it was also a hell of a lot of exhausting physical work. Little kids flying about, yeah right.

"Take the nape on this one Petra!" Peter called across to her, as he descended to the dummy's heels.

She was the picture of focus.

She narrowed her eyes, pre-empting the movement of the puppet's large arm and rerouting her hook at the last second to evade it.

She sailed around a tree in a smooth circle which brought her parallel to the nape. In the blink of an eye, she shot a hook directly past the back of the dummy's head and whizzed across. The cadets operating the puppet had no time to react as the chunk of fabric from its neck was torn out at extreme speed. Comparative to her breakneck strike, the fabric seemed to fall through the air in slow motion, and the cadets watched with wide eyes.

Continuing onwards through the run, she glanced over her shoulder. Peter looked disgruntled; it seemed he hadn't even managed to take out one heel in the time it took her to dispatch the fake titan. He begrudgingly followed her.

She smiled to herself. Her team could chide her all they wanted about any other area of training, but they all knew that no-one could touch her here. Even while sparring she had the fastest reflexes and was very intuitive, she just lacked a certain skill and strength on solid ground that she seemed to possess when floating through the air.

Her heart skipped a beat.

From the corner of her eye a dark shadow seemed to be racing alongside her, a tree or two away. The blot overtook her and looked back with cool grey eyes. Captain Levi. In her excitement to be back on the run, she had completely forgotten he was observing the team at all. A tightness moved across her chest. No. She would not let him distract her, not again.

A flare was fired up ahead to her right. Luckily she was near enough to see it. Flares could be pretty useless in the densely packed trees if no-one was close enough to you, and it was truly embarrassing to have to be rescued from the air by the stationed cadets.

She span midair, slightly redirecting her course. She elegantly swung under a branch, and spotted a figure up ahead hanging in the trees, completely tangled in wires from their gear. Hannah. Damn it. The three metre dummy nearby was slowly raising its hand towards her. Well this was just great.

Her mind raced, assessing three hundred and sixty degrees of aspects that could lead to a clean escape, where she didn't have to take Hannah's weight for too long. She knew that within seconds of dislodging her she'd have to let her go somewhere safely, but Hannah's right arm was completely bundled up in wire, so she'd have to angle it so Hannah might be able to right herself with her left arm. Yes, there was a shot.

"Hannah!" She called out, "Left arm!"

Spotting her redheaded friend speeding towards her Hannah understood. Looking up, she shifted her weight and recalled the untangled left hand wire, falling in a knotted free-fall towards the giant puppet's hand.

Petra shot through, hooking an arm around Hannah's waist just in time, and using her momentum and their combined weight to pilot Hannah forwards.

"Now." She began to loosen her hold of her friend.

"Right." Hannah flung her free arm out and shot her left hook to a nearby branch, propelling towards it and hitting into the tree. She wasn't able to slow herself with her right arm, but at least she was directly out of harms way, and only a few grazes the worse for it. She grimaced and looked towards her friend;

"Thanks baby girl, see you at the end of the run!"

Petra tittered, glad that her friend was safe and slowly lowering herself to the forest floor to be untangled by a nearby cadet.

She was coming up to the stream, her favourite part. Every time she was on this run she tried to make sure she could pass directly by it; a moment just to herself.

The running water glinted invitingly from among the moss-covered rocks and fallen amber leaves. She breezed down towards it, turning in the air with a bright smile, and trailed her hand through the current. The air was fresher down by the brook. It was her happy place. She drank in some deep cleansing breaths and began to ascend back into the higher branches, looking back contentedly towards her momentary sanctuary.

Immediately she felt unsettled. Whipping her head around she saw the Captain once again, ahead but parallel to her. Had he been following her this whole time? Didn't he have to survey everyone? Her heart started pattering in her chest. They were nearing the end of the run. Why was he still tracking her? He wouldn't have had time to evaluate everyone else so far, even with his unmatched speed.

He was flawlessly flying backwards and his stare pierced her like a javelin. She momentarily worried that the sheer severity of his gaze might dislodge her hook from its current anchor point.

She steadied her breathing. Maybe he was going to berate her for slowing down to pass by the stream, it was after all a momentary indulgence and she should have been training. She frowned. She could try and lose him.

Out of nowhere she shot a hook leftwards and jolted out of her current path. Hah. A smirk plastered her face as she soared forwards, once more enjoying her dance through the trees.

The whizz of wires steeled through her ears and she prickled. There he was again alongside her, a couple of trees away.

Was this supposed to be intimidating? A tactic to put as much pressure on soldiers as possible to reflect the stress of a real expedition? It was working if so. But she wasn't going to let him cloud her judgement. She grumbled and descended rapidly, twisting through a small gap between two close branches, then flipping back on herself and withdrawing towards the main section of the circuit.

That manoeuvre had to be hard to follow, even for him. He might be the best, but he wasn't a mind reader, she could get in front of him just enough to finish the circuit. Up ahead in the distance she could see most of the members of her squad congregating at the end platform. Not far now, and it had been a successful run for her, maybe enough to lessen her punishment for the morning's previous heinousness.

In a gust of wind, he spiralled in front of her. He launched a hook towards her current anchor point, and it came loose. She smarted, losing her balance.

Sabotage?!

Ok what the hell was going on. She knew she had been late and a mess earlier but this was totally uncalled for. Thankfully it would take more than a single dislodged hook to throw her off her game and she corrected her path, her eyes implacable.

They both seemed to speed up. Dodging and weaving in the nimblest game of cat and mouse ever played. Wherever she went, he appeared immediately, trying to uproot her. It became clear that he was trying to block her from exiting the run, all the while his expression unchanging; his stare frosty and steadfast.

Well this was very weird. At least she was holding her own. She wasn't about to back down.

—

Levi accelerated. She was dashing like an angry spark of unbridled electricity to try and pass him. This was good, it almost felt like they'd rehearsed. He defied even a member of his own squad to respond to his goading so naturally.

It hadn't taken him long to realise that, yes, this little ginger fireball was the scout he'd seen the night before. Her acrobatics on the run were unmistakeable; she seemed to be showing off. He wondered why, with such a high skill level on the ODM gear, he hadn't come across her before.

He would need to look at her file. He could not overlook the travesty that was her performance this morning: lateness, sloppy sparring and a completely unkempt dishevelled appearance. Then there was the fact that she'd thrown a piece of bread to the floor covered in her own saliva, and not even put it in the bin when she had a spare moment. He shuddered.

But these problems were fixable. Easily. With the right squad leader. Hell, he could teach her some sparring moves in under an hour that would have her flooring her entire squad.

Then there was her willingness and speed to assist others on the run to consider. She seemed to be thoroughly aware of the movements of her team, and him. She had a brightness and levity to her energy that carried through her actions; an internal and innate gleaming that was unteachable, and it was hard not to watch her.

He could fan this little flame without causing a wildfire, or completely smothering it, he was sure of it.

She was an intriguing prospect for the squad certainly. He could waste no time in trialling her. It would be risky, giving up a full morning of observation to test her out with his squad, but he'd come this far on gut feeling and he wasn't about to doubt himself. He was rarely wrong about such things.

The whole experience made him reevaluate how he'd originally selected his squad, which was done by him and Erwin shortlisting high-scoring report cards from the field, and tallying strength in a day of physical and 'decision-making' tests. How could he have been so blind - people's talents came through in different ways, and that one shoddy means of selection had left them lacking and struggling to synthesise for six whole months. Well he wouldn't make that mistake again.

He'd seen enough. Resolved, he nodded towards her curtly, before turning and jetting towards the end platform.

The rest of squad Clara had gathered there and were milling around chatting. He landed, fixing his green cloak and regarded Clara, motioning with his head for them to speak privately. She obliged and they walked several feet until they were out of earshot of the team.

"Petra." He said firmly.

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry Captain, I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Tomorrow morning, send her to the track. She won't be needed for training with your squad."

"The athletics track sir?" Clara was flummoxed.

"Yes. Dismissed."

He walked away purposefully. This could work.

Chapter 3: One Foggy Morning

Chapter Text

Petra looked down at her raw hands. The afternoon of riding and formation practice had been pretty standard, but she was so exhausted from trying to dodge the Captain on the ODM run before it that she'd returned to her sloppiness of the early morning. She needed to work on her stamina…nothing was good enough today.

Just like that he nodded at her and disappeared. She shook her head. What on earth was that about.

At lunch Hannah and Jules were equally as bewildered when she told them why she was the last one to return to the platform, staggering and unkempt.

"Wait…he deliberately dislodged your hooks?" Julia was wide-eyed,

"Do you think it was a new training method they were trying out? Like, to try and get you to think on your feet? Well, not your feet because…but y'know…" Hannah queried,

"No idea. Did he engage either of you on the run earlier on?" Petra asked.

"Hm…no."

"Nah, he just breezed past, barely looked at me to be honest." Came the replies.

How enlightening. She scrunched up her face as she made her way round to the officer's common room. It would be ok, she could do it. Closing her eyes she stopped before the door. It was like she was visiting the staff room at school somehow, even though many of the officers were her age or similar.

She rapped three times and waited.

"Come in!" An erratic yet musical voice called, indisputably Section Commander Hange Zoë.

Bracing herself, she swung open the door with a shy smile.

"Er - hi - I - is squad leader Clara in here?"

The mad scientist beamed extensively.

"Why, you sure are a small one!" Hange leaned in and pinched Petra's cheek, which had turned bright pink; "Clara…of course! Clara?" They swivelled around in an animated search.

"Thank you Section Commander, I've got it." Clara interjected, strutting towards them, "Petra, yes I've been meaning to speak to you. Shall we step into the hall for a second."

It wasn't the day's over-exertion that was making her knees wobbly now; she greatly respected Clara. Today had been very turbulent in terms of her performance and she really wasn't sure what to expect from her matter-of-fact squad leader.

Clara closed the door to the Officer's common room and eyed her.

"Tomorrow morning-"

But Petra was already babbling; "I am so sorry about my performance today squad leader. It won't happen again, I promise. I really think I was just tired after the night-training and it-"

"Petra."

Clara stopped her with an irked expression, "Listen. Tomorrow morning you are to report to the athletics circuit instead of usual training, regular time. And for crying out loud don't be late."

"Sir? Um…is this part of my punishment?"

"No. We'll discuss that at a later time. I haven't forgotten, don't you worry."

"Oh. Then, why the circuit sir?"

"Petra, I really don't know. They don't tell me these things."

"They?"

Clara looked pained, but said nothing.

"Um, squad leader?"

"Yes?"

Petra bit her lip. She really did feel like a child again.

"Ok…listen. It wasn't Hannah or Julia's fault this morning. I overslept and they were just making sure I made it to the gym. Please be lenient with them when you dole out punishment."

Petra's large amber eyes were swimming with remorse. Clara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Please, sir."

"Ok."

"Thank you, thank you, you don't know-"

"Alright stop your yammering before I change my mind."

"Yessir!"

Petra briskly saluted, turned on her heel and marched off. She wasn't about to push her luck.

Wednesday

"…Petra…Petra…ah, Petra Ral. Squad Clara?"

"Mm."

Erwin pulled a folder from the drawer and opened it, perusing it with the typical lightness that he seemed to possess, though he was a towering man.

"You're sure about this Levi?"

Levi rolled his eyes. Erwin looked steadfast.

"It says here that she only has one solo kill in the field."

"She matched me on the gear yesterday. I tried to force her out of the air, but she made it impossible. Her skills on the ODM run were outstanding."

Erwin said nothing, but glanced back to the file in his hand. She had to be exceptional if she'd managed to get the Captain to say the word 'outstanding.' There were some things that didn't fit in manila folders.

"Erwin, we went about this the wrong way. I would have thought you of all people could recognise that."

"Hm. Well if you're certain. I gave you a task and I'm trusting you can carry it out. Don't expect a deadline extension if she doesn't work out."

"Sure."

"I'll get Hange to drop this file in your office; make sure you read it all after drills this morning."

"Thanks."

With that he turned, leaving Erwin leafing through the folder, engrossed.

He knew the Commander well enough to know he wasn't convinced, but that was fine. Levi wasn't the type to persuade anyone of anything using words, he always found that action was far better for getting your point across.

He smirked to himself. If his hunch was right, Petra may in time prove to be a one-woman "team-building exercise" and Erwin the genius would have to shut his damn mouth.

She wasn't really sure where she was going, and not just because it was a foggy morning. She'd changed her outfit probably a billion times, eventually settling on some slightly looser fitting dark sweatpants and the black long sleeve shirt she usually wore for circuit training. The girls had agreed it was the best option for some unknown athletics-themed excursion.

The only issue with this outfit was if for some reason she needed her gear, which didn't fit over the trousers very easily and caused awful chaffing. Her green cloak was slung around her shoulders too, partly for the cold, but also because she thought she might need to have the wings of freedom emblem on her person somewhere - she wasn't sure who she was meeting after all.

She cast her mind back to what Clara had said last night:

"They don't tell me these things."

They. It could be any of the higher ups in the regiment. Maybe Commander Erwin. Oh god, what if it was the Commander? No. Why on god's green earth would he want to meet her at an athletics circuit. He definitely didn't even know who she was.

She chuckled to herself, imagining the fog lifting to reveal Commander Erwin in a white vest top stood at the track's starting line, and heard his low measured voice:

"Petra Ral. You and me, four-hundred metre race - Let's go. Loser has to trick or treat in nothing but their leather harness."

At least she could make herself laugh.

Athletics circuit…it was a very specifically strange place to go if she was in some kind of trouble with the higher ups.

The circuit was, by nature, large. She'd left quite a bit earlier than usual this morning because she had absolutely no idea which section of it she was going to, and no way in hell was she going to be late for whatever this was.

The October air was biting her rosy cheeks as she crossed the mist-laden field towards the track. She could just about make out a scout in the distance, who appeared to be stretching, bending and touching his toes.

This random guy? What in the ever-loving…was this right?

She trudged over frigidly, her footsteps slowing as she neared the soldier. What the-

"Oruo?"

She stopped dead. He looked up at her and gawped for a moment, before finding himself and straightening up at speed.

"Petra Ral. What - what are you doing here? Is your squad - uh -"

He seemed to be genuinely on the back foot. This was odd; he mustn't have been the person she was meant to meet.

"I was asked to come to the track this morning at normal drill time, but there doesn't seem to be anyone else here…" She looked back across the hazy, but definitely empty circuit.

"Oh." He scratched his neck; "This is usually where we in the Special Operations Squad train on Wednesday mornings so…"

The Captain's squad. Of course, how could she be so dense. Was she meant to meet Captain Levi here to be disciplined? She shuddered. He could probably just glare at her silently for two minutes and she'd start crying.

It didn't escape her notice that Oruo had emphasised 'Special Operations Squad' either. Some things never changed and she believed Oruo might be one of them.

"Wait. Did the Captain send you?" He asked soberly.

"No. At least I don't think so, I've never said so much as two words to him."

Oruo stood for a moment in puzzlement, when two shadows appeared behind him through the mist.

"Hey Bozad, you know getting here early won't improve your lap time."

A tallish blonde scout with a slight beard and hair tied up in a bun emerged, nonchalantly swinging his water canteen.

"If you wanted to impress your little girlfriend," he quipped, motioning towards Petra, "I can think of better ways than being thoroughly crushed in a ten lap sprint against your squad mates."

Suddenly the biting air didn't feel quite so cold as blood flooded her cheeks. She scowled and balled up her fists. Who was this asshole?

"Hm."

A second man of equal stature had appeared slightly tailing the blonde. He had a crop of dark brown hair that peaked strangely at the top of his head, and a deadly serious expression.

"Didn't know you liked gingers Oruo."

Oruo rolled his eyes and continued his stretching; "Like you'd have a chance in hell beating me Eld." He grumbled under his breath.

Petra was completely dumbstruck. She wasn't sure if she was more furious or confused and it left her unable to function. What was going on? She must've looked a right tool, standing glowering at the three men, red in the face, shaking with some intensity but saying nothing.

"Well, the Captain is finishing up a meeting with Commander Erwin, so let's get started. You know the drill lads." The blonde said. He cricked his neck, and looked back towards Petra, "Staying for the show? Up to you."

Before she could respond, the three had lined up at the beginning of the track, the blonde readying the starting pistol. He fired, the sound of the shot echoing in a pulse across the foggy field, and they sprinted off.

She was entirely at a loss. She was missing training with her squad to watch three pricks run around a field. It was completely absurd. And the blonde guy had said something about the Captain being in a meeting? So even he wasn't coming to berate her or whatever it was he might have wanted.

Glancing around the track she still couldn't see anyone beyond the three running men. There was a chance Clara had messed up, and she was meant to go somewhere else. Or go to the track on a different day.

Her hands fumbled with the edges of her cloak. Leaving would be bad on the off chance whoever it was was just late, however lingering made it look like she wanted to 'stay for the show' or whatever. She absolutely did not want to stay for any show, or even talk to them again after the boorishness she'd just encountered.

She huffed. So darn rude. Not even "Hello, nice to meet you." Not even "My name is…". Or Oruo could have easily introduced her. And one of them called her little, which was true, but it still made her feel small…in an emotional way. Stay for the show, ugh.

Her foot was tapping uncontrollably as they all passed her for the second time and she made a point of not looking at them. She wasn't going to give the impression she was even remotely interested in the results of this dumb race. She didn't want to stay at all, but the unknown purpose of her summoning was compelling her, so she waited.

"Shouldn't you be running?"

A jolt of electricity ricocheted through her and she span to see the Captain only a couple of metres behind her. He was stood motionlessly, his arms folded and his head cocked.

"Ten laps Ral. It seems like you have some catching up to do."

"S-Sir?"

"Did I stutter? Ten laps."

It took all her might to peel her jaw from off of the floor. Her heart surged around her ribcage as though completely untethered from her and she felt like she might throw up. Oh this must be what palpitations felt like.

The next thing she knew, she was running. Her cloak was flung off somewhere and the tall guy with the strangely peaked dark hair jogged swiftly past her;

"Pace yourself Red, or you'll never get to ten."

She had been through so many emotions in the past day it was hard to process anything anymore. Focus Ral! Pay Attention! Taking in a few deep breaths she slowed down slightly. She had been hammering around the track, and the weird hair guy was right, she was going to burn out at that pace.

Something wet dripped onto her lower lip. She licked her lips and the familiar taste of iron washed her tongue. Well here it was, a day late, the promised nose bleed. Excellent, just what she needed to really stand out and show off her skill. For fuck's sake. Maybe if she was really lucky she'd get her period too, wouldn't that be exemplary, then she could do some kind of speech and even a demonstration on how many places it was possible to bleed from at the same time. There couldn't be a better way to make a good impression than that, surely.

Wait - screw that! Not one of these asshats had made a good first impression on her, so why should she make the effort? She just had to make it through this run, then she could leave and never see them or anyone else ever again. There was a pretty-ish cave if you followed a few of the fields up on horseback towards the Wall. It would do nicely for an embarrassing hag to live out her failed days.

Catastrophizing again I see.

Her father's voice. The thing was, catastrophizing was part of the reason she was such a good scout. She had always thought that those who worried a lot made valuable scouts, as they were always prepared for the worst and untrusting of any semblance of safety, especially in the field. In that context, she found that her rapid overthinking actually became a kind of extraordinary focus that helped her save others.

That didn't stop it being a bit of a tricky thing to live with sometimes when she was inside the walls though. Part of the reason she gelled so quickly with Hannah and Jules was that they dealt with her concerns in a similar way to her father. All three were gentle, slightly overbearing and had hearts of gold; they would always take her to task over her fretting.

It gave her some comfort to think of them as she jogged around the track, a sweet distraction from course reality. She rounded the final corner for the tenth time, her lungs burning. The two leaden weights of her legs had a mind of their own as they flung themselves in front of one another to the finish.

Clearly the men were already done, stretching and drinking from water canteens, but despite her starting late, she couldn't have finished more than five or six minutes after them; that had to be something.

"Here."

The weird hair guy (she was going to call him that until anyone bothered to tell her their names) threw a handkerchief at her. She stared down at it in a trance. Her bloody nose. Yes. Wiping her face she looked back towards him. What a curiously kind gesture. Her eyes softened. Maybe she had judged them too soon.

"Alright nitwits listen up. This is Petra Ral. She's joining us for training today, so don't embarrass yourselves." The Captain turned towards her, raising an eyebrow; "Think you can handle it?"

—

Eld had to admit this girl was bold. She was clearly weaker and had less stamina than the rest of them but she was full of a fiery determination and was keeping up to the best of her ability, no complaints. She followed orders directly and silently…in fact he wasn't sure he'd heard her speak even once.

He'd felt a pang of remorse for their first meeting when he saw her round the final corner to the track, blood streaming from her nose. He hadn't realised she was meant to be joining them, for all he knew she really was Oruo's secret sweetheart, meeting him for a romantic foggy morning…stretch?

Why was she training with them today though? She couldn't be the Captain's choice, he'd only been observing squads for two days. Unless he really had just been cycling through squads until he finally found a scout shorter than him to join their team. That must be it. He internally chuckled.

They were just about done with the morning drills, planking in a neat line.

It had been about eight minutes since they started the plank and every single one of them was shaking, except the Captain, who was barely sweating. If he didn't have a constant glower, he might've looked serene. It pissed Eld off.

From the corner of his eye he saw a spot of blood drip from Petra's nose to the ground. Her face was screwed up in intense concentration and it was clear she was warring against falling prematurely. She was really pushing herself to her limits. Man, it had to be rough training with an unfamiliar squad and an elite one at that. He would have to apologise to her when he had a moment. It was ok to give the lads a hard time (actually it was necessary to stay sane) but it was kind of out of order to be so dismissive to someone he'd barely met, even if it wasn't a hundred percent clear to him why she was there.

The Captain called time and they unsteadily stood. Petra's once bright red face was ashen, and if it weren't for some indescribable sparkle in her eyes, she looked like she could instantly pass out.

"Dismissed."

The exhausted line saluted diligently. The Captain immediately disappeared. Where he had to go at such speed was incomprehensible, but Eld supposed his busy week had impeded his paperwork, not to mention this morning would have set him back on observation.

Petra had wandered off to try and source her green cloak, which she had thoughtlessly chucked from her person as she joined the race (with a hilarious level of disorder and uncertainty, Eld noted). She was currently scouring the field, blotting her face intermittently with Gunther's handkerchief.

Eld began to approach her, but was beaten to the punch by Oruo, who practically skidded through the mud to get to her first. He shrugged. Maybe they were secret lovers. He was sure he'd see her over lunch time…he could apologise then. If not, it wasn't that big a deal, he probably wouldn't see her around afterwards too much, the elite squad's schedules were more intensive than the average squad after all. He trudged towards the mess hall.

—

"Uh…"

Oruo breezed into view, and Petra had to fight off a grimace.

"I think your cloak's over there."

She looked to where he was pointing at the small, sad green mound that made up her discarded cloak.

"Thanks."

She started towards it, blood still trickling slightly from her nose. Her legs were jelly, and she was glad for the cool air, pretty sure it was the only thing keeping her upright. Squad Clara weren't slackers by any means, but there was no way they would ever go so hard on a morning drill. Boy was this going to hurt the next day.

She was vaguely aware that Oruo was sidling behind her as she stopped to pick up the garment.

"Um…so…how did you find it?" He asked sheepishly.

She blew her nose into the handkerchief and looked at him pointedly, letting the red-blotted fabric unfurl.

"That about answer your question?" She murmured.

Oruo laughed awkwardly loudly, his hand returning to its favourite point on his neck.

"Yeah, it can be tough for a beginner. Especially for a girl too."

"Oh just fuck off Oruo." She hissed and swept past him, eager to get to the mess hall where she could unpack this ridiculous morning with Hannah and Jules.

"I didn't mean it like - you did really well considering - " He faltered as she left him in the middle of the field, his face downcast.

Levi didn't have much time to read the file, eat lunch and pick up equipment for the afternoon. He carved off a slice of apple, examining the pages on his desk. Interesting. It appeared she'd trained as a cadet in the same division as Oruo. He hadn't picked up so much as a hint that they knew each other in morning conditioning. Perhaps that was a credit to their professionalism.

Could it be an issue? Possibly, if for some reason they were on bad terms. He'd have to gauge it in the afternoon and keep an eye on their interactions just in case. Tch. He wasn't about to lose a potentially sound addition to the squad because they had some kind of pathetic petty past drama; no, they'd deal with it. They'd have to for the good of the squad, and therefore Erwin, and therefore humanity.

He was getting ahead of himself. There was equally a chance that they were close friends.

Nah, Oruo didn't know how to make friends.

It was intriguing nonetheless.

He'd been expecting her to fall behind his squad a bit, it was only natural, after all, they were elites for a reason. But he was right, whatever it was that burned in her was strong; strong enough for her to keep relative pace, even if her body was trying its hardest to give up on her. He recognised that brightness again immediately, and found it strangely thrilling.

One solo kill in the field - modest - but she had assisted with titan kills plenty of times. And she'd taken the optional medical elective while in cadet corps which had come in handy on several expeditions. Her ODM speed stats were unbelievably high too, he hadn't seen any like them before - except maybe Mike's, and Mike was so skilled that he had a squad of his own.

He recalled a conversation with Hange, where they'd told him that small scouts often moved exponentially faster on ODM gear, and could more frequently perform swift and complex movements, because smaller bodies were less impacted by G-forces. They had then said jokingly that it was one of the many reasons women made better scouts than men, but because he was still shorter than most women he didn't have to worry about his title being stripped. Damn four-eyes.

With her level of agility Petra should have really shown up in the previous screening process for the squad; he supposed her general strength and combat stats must have brought her average marks down too far. Also the number of scouts recruits was currently at the highest it'd been (at around three-hundred) so it was no wonder he hadn't come across her in the field.

She certainly would be filling out some of the weaker areas of his squad. All of them could stand to learn how to assist more, and scale down their immense egos at the same time.

She had followed his orders unwaveringly, despite being thrown in the deep end with no idea what was coming. It had to be valuable for the others to see him being treated with real respect again too: she didn't talk back or complain, and made adequate corrections when he critiqued her form, which admittedly did need a lot of work.

He cut another slice of apple and sat back in his chair. If she were to join the squad then he'd have to rejig their regular routines a bit with her in mind. Actually he would have had to do that anyway, no matter who joined, especially with regards to formations on the ODM runs. A five man team made pairing up tricky, though it would make it easier for him to step out and observe his squad's weak points.

He furrowed his brow, his thumb pressed hard into his lips.

Why did no-one tell her anything? She fumed, dragging her wasted limbs through the doors to the mess hall. Would it really have been so hard for someone to have said:

"Hey Petra, you're training with the Levi Squad tomorrow morning! Good luck bitch! You'll fucking need it!"

She felt like such a weak jackass. It took everything she had to lunge, squat and do push-ups with them. The Captain couldn't have expected her to be able to keep up with them right? She'd done her best but despite her focus and doggedness she still left feeling like a complete deadbeat. Pity was radiating from every squad member's eyes as she struggled to keep her legs above the jumping rope in time, almost tripping on several occasions. She hated it, them, and herself. God. At least it was over.

Her eyes searched the large room for any members of her squad and she locked onto them, sat three down from their regular table. Hannah, Peter and Jules - at last some friendly faces.

They waved and smiled and she realised that it has been hours since she'd seen anyone smile at her - Oruo's awkward laugh did not count.

"Petra! How was it this morning? What the hell were you doing?" Hannah asked buoyantly.

Her squad was radiating positivity. Were they always this joyful? Or was she just hyper-sensitive to it after the most onerous morning ever?

"Yeah Ral, who were you racing?" Peter asked, shoving a spoonful of soup into his impatient mouth, some of it dribbling down his chin.

"Squad Levi."

The table seized up. Jules spat out a full mouthful of water.

"Woah, what?"

Petra's anguished expression clearly affected them and they flipped at top speed into nurture-mode. Julia ushered her to sit down while Hannah barked at Peter to stand in line to get Petra something to eat. He reluctantly stood and left, after briefly protesting that he wanted to hear the details too.

Petra was, as always, eternally grateful. She wasn't sure how much longer she could have stood up without collapsing. Her head fell into her hands.

"I mean, sweetie, you look rough." Hannah said, rubbing her back.

Petra sluggishly smiled. She recounted the details of the morning, her rapidly fluctuating emotions, her bleeding nose, the fact that she'd done more push-ups in one single session than ever before in her entire life, probably. They listened empathetically, and exaggerated the hardships of their own morning so that at least she didn't feel like she'd missed out too much.

"They sound like a bunch of assholes." Julia finally said, clearing Petra's empty bowl onto a tray and moving to return it to be washed.

"Yeah…" Petra mumbled. She squeezed the handkerchief in her pocket, frowning. Across the mess hall she spotted weird hair guy sat alone staring at something, though with so many diners in the way she couldn't see what. He sighed and was sporting a lost expression that tugged on her unwilling heartstrings. Someone stood, clearing her view, and revealed a young freckled scout sat chatting animatedly with his friends.

"Did no-one ever tell you why you were training with them?" Peter asked. He'd been wondering it for a while.

Why. Why? Maria, he was right. She had been so mad and disorientated the whole morning that she hadn't even stopped to consider or ask them why she was sent there. Clara said yesterday that the circuit wasn't her punishment. It bloody should have been, Clara was going to struggle to find something that even remotely felt like punishment after that morning.

"I don't know…" She said apprehensively, "No-one said why…"

"I guess you'll have to ask one of them this afternoon." Hannah ventured.

"This afternoon?" Petra looked puzzled.

"Yeah, when you train with them this afternoon, you should definitely ask then."

Petra's mouth fell open. The afternoon? What was she on about, they couldn't drag her back to train with that squad.

"Oh my god, dude, did you not know that you were with them for the afternoon?" Julia shook her head incredulously.

"W-What? How did you-" Petra stammered.

"Clara said so this morning, that you'd be spending the whole day training with a different squad."

It was like a ghostly hand was strangling her. Not again. Hannah, Julia and Peter exchanged concerned looks.

"Oh, buddy. I'm sorry. But think about it this way, it's only a few more hours right?"

"Totally - if anyone can get through it Petra, it's you."

She stared at the table for a moment in silence. Un-fucking-believable.

"…You don't know where I'm meant to go do you?"

The three looked at each other again and shook their heads.

"Great. Then I better go ask. Guess I'll see you guys." She dragged herself up from the bench and away, leaving her three troubled friends to finish their lunch break. She no longer had the energy to be angry.

She plodded up to weird-hair guy who was still sat alone and stood before him, completely deflated.

"Apparently I'm training with you guys again this afternoon."

He barely looked up.

"Oh, right."

"Do you know where I'm meant to go?"

"ODM run four."

"Great. Thanks uh…"

"Gunther."

"Gunther. Right."

She turned and walked to her dorm room. She'd have to change her outfit.

Chapter 4: Our Most Valuable Asset

Chapter Text

Eld was the first to arrive at ODM run four, five minutes early for the afternoon session.

Honestly, he was surprised. He prided himself on his ability to show up exactly on time, not early or late. He hadn't always been that way, but since spending any excess time with his squad was such an uncomfortable pain in the ass, he'd made timeliness his mission. He sat on the wooden bench on the starting platform and checked over his gear again.

They would probably just run through the same tired formation for three or four hours, then he could go to the pub. Maybe he'd run into Anna's squad. They were always lively, plus Anna was pretty cute.

It wasn't two minutes before the Captain appeared.

"Sir." He gave a half-hearted salute, not getting up from his perch.

Levi took a swig from his canteen.

"Oh, Captain, I was going to ask…"

"Hm?"

"This morning…Petra was it? Was there a reason she joined us for circuits?"

The Captain stared at him.

"Tch. Well Eld, it seems your memory is lamentable. I'm trialling new squad members this week because you dipshits can't seem to collaborate."

"But sir, that girl - the new squad member?" Eld was astonished.

Really? He'd considered it of course, it just seemed extremely unlikely that 'old nosebleed would be high enough on the Captain's list to make a trial run. The fact was that potential members had only been being observed for two days and she was trialling before anyone else. Something didn't add up. Plus It would have made way more sense for there to be a few trials on Friday right before the Captain had to give the Commander his recommendation, then next week they'd do the Commander's assessment.

"Sir, I don't mean to overstep the mark but - "

"Part of the reason we're having to do this in the first place is because you don't trust my judgement. 'That girl' is elite squad material. Watch and see."

Well that shut him up. A couple of minutes later the other three appeared, walking in single file looking drawn. Petra was trailing at the back and she had changed into her harness and shirt; It seemed she was joining them for the afternoon as well then. Sure. Her eyes were so big that they amplified any expression she had, so she didn't just look sad, she looked outright despairing.

Eld stood to join the line and they saluted diligently, just as they had at the end of the morning session.

"The more mathematically gifted among you gentlemen will have noticed that currently we are a squad of five. As such, the formations we have been practising up until this point are useless."

The Captain scrutinised the line.

"Today's formation will be an arrow. Eld, you're up front acting as distraction and communications. Oruo and Gunther will travel in equidistant positions behind him to take out rogue limbs and Petra,"

He stopped in front of her and looked her dead in the eye.

"Fly at the back, parallel to me. We'll use a pincer movement to dispatch the targets."

Petra's eyes slightly widened and she slowly nodded.

Eld could see that Oruo was livid; he hated being on 'rogue limbs', all he ever wanted to do was cut the dummy's nape.

"Hey, Oruo," he whispered, "See if you can stop that giant vein pulsating in your temple so much, it's gonna get in the way of your blades."

Oruo jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow and Eld winced, fighting to remain composed. Out of nowhere the Captain appeared behind them and expressionlessly clubbed their heads together. They groaned, finding their balance and sourly returned to attention.

"Any questions?"

"No sir." They collectively chanted.

"Good. Then let's go."

—

Alongside the Captain? Wait, that was a good thing, right? He certainly didn't need help dispatching targets on his own though, so…it must be some kind of test…

If only she were like a million percent less drained.

"If anyone can get through it Petra, it's you."

She sighed. Yes, she could do it. She had to have a little more faith in herself. Later on she would treat herself to a trip to the bathhouse as a reward for getting through this bizarre day. She could afford that much.

They blazed through the trees hot on the tail of Oruo and Gunther. She was mildly relieved that she finally knew everyone's names, though getting to that point had been a lot trickier than it should have been; finding out the names of people you worked with shouldn't be a challenge at all, it's literally step one.

Usually in the Scouts (but also in any job she reasoned) people told you who they were and what you were doing at the beginning of the first day, but today had been entirely guess-work. No-one was even going to tell her where she was meant to be this afternoon (they barely told her where she was going in the morning) and if she hadn't found out by chance, who knows where she would have ended up for the remainder of the day. But then, she shouldn't be comparing this situation to any normal one, it certainly wasn't normal in any way.

Eld shouted back through the trees.

"Ten metre target!"

He was flying high and circling down towards the dummy. He was astonishingly good, staying just out of reach of the puppet's swinging arms, but high enough to remain constantly in it's theoretical eye-line.

Oruo and Gunther sped towards the shifting arms, coiling over the top of them and slicing downwards. Their cuts were a little shallow, meaning that Eld had to continually dodge for longer than could be considered comfortable, and they quarrelled and looped back around again.

"Ready?" The Captain shot her a look and she nodded, promptly gliding up and out to her position above the fake titan's neck as he did the same on the other side,

"Take the top - now."

They descended rapidly from both directions, blades drawn. In perfect sync they crossed at the nape, Petra speeding above and the Captain undercutting, each slicing the fabric cleanly before swinging back upwards into the higher branches. The block of fabric from the dummy's nape fell sadly through the air.

—

Eld was blown away. That was quite a move. He retreated from his spot to a nearby branch scratching his head. Ok. He was wrong. He'd underestimated the Captain's judgement. He'd underestimated Petra. He'd watched the Captain take out titans countless times, that was nothing new, but the way she had just matched him almost exactly…she was really really fast.

Ok. His mind was swimming. This trial suddenly made sense, and he felt like a judgemental prick. He glanced over at the tattered puppet. Man, what an asshole he was, she wasn't even that bad this morning.

The rest of the squad reconvened in the branches near him. Gunther was practically agape (the most expressive Eld had ever seen him) and Oruo was pale. Of course, they hadn't been told explicitly that she was trialling to join the squad; if they hadn't guessed it beforehand, they certainly knew now.

The Captain cleared his throat, "Not bad for a first attempt." He eyed each of them in turn, "but we can get quicker. This time no verbal instruction. I want you to intuit."

"So, you don't want me to alert you when I spot a target sir?" Eld said meagrely,

"No. We need to pay attention to your movements. Gunther and Oruo especially. We can't lose the element of surprise. We'll pick up on you from the back in a chain of visual cues."

That checked out. Eld abandoned his branch and continued down the run, trusting they'd follow him. This exercise had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

He cruised through the upper levels of the trees, his mind buzzing. That was only one dispatch, but it was the most exciting moment of training since the squad was formed, and the spirit of the group had utterly shifted over a period of seconds.

Of course it could have just been a momentary glitch in the dynamic: that, briefly refreshed due to a new person in their midst, they had each reconsidered their conduct…but he suspected it was greater than that. The new formation that the Captain had come up with on the fly was immediately more successful than any of their previous attempts.

Could it be that the presence of a woman had stoked some bravado in them, forcing them to prove their worth as an elite squad? Definitely not. They were morons but they weren't neanderthals. They had been evaluated many times by the Commander himself for god's sake, there was no way one girl could inspire teamwork in them more than the highest ranking officer, no matter how cute she was.

He was doing everyone a disservice, reducing the squad to some desperate to please box-tickers and Petra to some 'cute girl', as if they weren't all skilled soldiers in their own rights. Man he hated himself sometimes. The point was that this was going well, wasn't that enough?

He looked back over his shoulder, catching Oruo and Gunther's eyes; a target was coming up. He pelted towards the dummy's head before instantly reversing at speed in a well timed fake-out.

Wind blasted him as they swept in, respectively cutting the obstructing arms and heels clean off the puppet. That was new - usually they fully got in one another's way. It was almost like they were trying.

If he had blinked he would have missed it. The Captain and Petra, barely seconds behind Gunther and Oruo, rushed past. The light of their blades glinting was almost the only movement he could see as they span down to the puppet's neck and then swooped back upwards, having jointly carved a perfect slice out of the fabric.

He watched Petra closely, she turned and skated through the air as though it were as natural as breathing. Wow. She was flowing through the trees easily as water down a hill, harmoniously twisting with every branch and twig, contorting her body like a gymnast; a far cry from the pale, shaking scout he'd seen earlier. She looked like a dancer. Something ugly stirred within him, and he realised he was a little bit jealous.

They recalled to the higher branches again. For a few moments everyone was silent. They didn't need to catch their breath, after all it had only been the second team dispatch, but a gear had clicked collectively into place and what they were doing suddenly made a lot more sense.

The Captain eyed him and signalled for them to continue down the run.

—

Petra had to admit it was nice to work alongside Captain Levi, rather than the constant sabotage of the day prior. And it was a lot less tiring. She was actually immensely proud of herself for keeping pace with him through the trees. He must have been holding back significantly, but even still she felt rather gratified.

It didn't mean that she'd forgotten about the aching and fatigue radiating from every single part of her body, but the stunned expressions of the squad definitely diluted the intensity of said pain; a kind of spiritual payback following the morning's flailing about and feeling unfit to be a member of the scouts altogether.

They bolted down the rest of the course in much the same way, scanning the movements of the squad up ahead, and diving in for a joint dispatch as quickly as possible after all the 'rogue limbs' had been dealt with. It became easier and easier to follow the Captain's signals, and by the final couple of dummy titans she could read his body language from the corner of her eye, without turning to look at him.

Spent as she was, there was something undeniably enjoyable about working as part of an elite team on an ODM run. At no point did she fear that anyone would make a basic mistake: getting tangled in their wires or misfiring a hook. Plus this squad was so small it was fairly easy to have eyes on everyone at the same time. Clara's squad was usually split up and staggered, and the overall difficulty of the run was wholly dependant on who went with you down the course.

It felt patronising, but here she just didn't have to worry so much.

Eventually they reached the end platform, in a time so much faster than her own squad's she felt a hint of embarrassment. The Captain instructed them to take ten minutes to sit and have water, and departed again at speed, with no indication of where he was going or why.

She sat leaning against a large tree trunk and gazed towards the bare branches above. Her mind emptied and her eyelids drooped. It was becoming hard to keep them open and her whole body was begging her to lie down immediately and rest. Oruo approached and quietly sat next to her, scratching the back of his head.

After a couple of moments he awkwardly coughed;

"That was…kinda cool I guess…the way you took out those fake titans. Even though the Captain did most of the work. You've sure come a long way since the cadets."

"Thanks. You weren't terrible yourself."

"Just you wait until I'm at the rear of the formation my dear, you won't even know what hit you."

She smiled weakly. His chronic arrogance reminded her of the old days and, though it pained her to admit, right now she was finding it oddly comforting.

"Um…Oruo?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitated, and Oruo took a long drink from his canteen.

"Why am I training with you guys today…do you know?"

He paused, slowly lowering the bottle from his lips, his face pressed in a frown.

"Squad Levi is recruiting another member, so you're trialling." It was Eld's voice that answered and she looked up at him in dumb shock. "And I have to apologise to you. I was a jerk this morning, I didn't know that the trials were starting so early - not that that - " he shook his head, "Anyway, I'm sorry."

Wait - another member? Her mind was instantly galloping at a rate of knots. Seriously? That's what this whole thing was about - she was being considered for the Levi Squad? The most elite squad in the entire regiment - her? If she weren't already sitting down she would have needed to. Perhaps now she could lie down. This was all a bit much. Just yesterday she was preparing herself to be royally punished for her recent lacklustre performance and now she was potentially up for a promotion.

Wow.

It didn't make much sense to her - this squad appeared to be on top form, as they should, they were the best soldiers in the regiment. She was talented for sure, but she wasn't the best. No way.

She'd known Oruo was selected for the Levi Squad months ago (that checked out seeing as he was formidable when taking out titans on his own) but hadn't really seen him since. It was kind of a shame, they got on well during their time as cadets, and for some time after; though they'd been split into different squads. They had been comfortable enough that she could yell at him when he was being an asshole, which she took to mean that they were close friends. In fact, she partly had him to thank for her skills on the gear, if he hadn't been so competitive with her back then, she might never have reached such a high level.

But to join the Levi squad? That idea was beyond comprehension. Sure, she could vouch for her ODM skill, but the Captain had seen her dreadful sparring…her deplorable circuit training…he'd even seen her be knocked the fuck out, all in under twenty-four hours. She'd be dead within weeks working with a squad like this, she was sure of it.

Ok, there was still no guarantee she would be offered the position, and if for some reason she was, would she even want to take it? Abandon her best friends and squad mates to run a thousand circuits every morning and drill herself into the ground with these boring bell-ends? No thanks. It was extremely flattering to be selected for a trial run, but she was happy where she was, she definitely didn't want it to change, not even if it meant a raise.

She'd have to let one of them know. She would thank them very much for the enlightening morning, the many tips and tricks she could relay to her squad, but humbly request to leave, not wanting to waste any more of their time as she wasn't willing to accept such a role even if she were offered it. Maybe one of these guys would relay the message onto the Captain, then she could just avoid him forever…it had been easy enough up until literally this week.

For at least two minutes she'd been silently shaking her head. Eld was equally perplexed and amused;

"Uh - Petra? Are we cool?" He prodded.

"Oh." She blinked reality back into view; "Sure, I guess. …You were an asshole though."

Eld laughed, "Yeah, it's part and parcel for this squad I'm afraid."

Oruo snorted defiantly, "Maybe for you Eld."

"On your feet."

The Captain rematerialised in the exact spot he had been before he shot off. She made a mental note to ask one of the guys if he'd trained as a magician at any point - if he hadn't he should certainly consider it as a career; his disappearing/reappearing act was very polished.

They scrambled to attention.

"Eld, run the afternoon. Return to the top and complete the course again as a three, then head back to the barracks and wait for me there."

"But Sir can't we -"

"No." He turned to Petra, "You're done for now, but make your way to my office for seven thirty this evening."

"Your office - "

"Dismissed."

And he was away again.

Jeez. What business did he have flitting about the shadows like some scary-eyed bat, appearing from nowhere and barking orders at everyone before evaporating back into nothingness, with no indication of when he might reappear. It was unsettling to say the least.

"I guess…I'll see you guys around…"

"Yeah, see ya Petra. Nice work today." Eld turned to start heading back to the top of the run, "Come on numbskulls, the quicker we move the quicker we get to go back to the barracks."

"Uh, yeah. Bye Ral." Oruo moved to follow Eld. She noticed a heaviness to his expression, he was dragging his feet a bit.

Gunther nodded at her silently, before following on.

"Gunther, wait!"

He stalled, looking blankly over his shoulder.

"Um…here." She held out a clean white handkerchief, "It's not yours, but it's the exact same type. I picked it up at lunchtime, figured you wouldn't want your disgusting nosebleedy one back and god knows when I'll see you to return it once it's been washed."

Gunther's expression relaxed and he hesitantly took the handkerchief. He grunted a small 'thanks' and placed it in his pocket.

"There was one other thing. It's kinda weird actually but…do you know James?"

He blinked in surprise.

"He's in squad Klaus - brown hair, freckles, shortish? Anyway he came up to me at lunch, said he'd seen us 'chatting' and asked me to give you this…" She fumbled about her person for a small folded note, "don't worry, I haven't read it! I honestly have no idea what it's about, but he seemed pretty upbeat."

She held the note out expectantly and watched his expression. He froze for a moment, then, steadily, a blush grew over his face and he hurriedly grabbed the note and swept off without another word.

She smiled, watching him rush off. She'd actually gone out of her way to speak to the freckled scout and let him know he had an admirer (she'd assumed as much from Gunther's staring). When James'd found out who, his eyes lit up, he began stumbling over his words and he'd implored her to wait while he excitedly wrote the note to pass on. She was a regular cupid; she couldn't wait to tell the girls.

That was a point. So was she off for the afternoon now or what? Should she return to train with her own squad? Hmmm. She looked out towards the field, in the distance she could just about see the Scout's main hub and barracks. By the time she got to her squad they'd be nearly finished, or at least it would be hard for her to join in with their exercises if they'd been split up into groups.

And they didn't have to know she'd been dismissed early…what if she went to the bathhouse now, and got in there before it got busy at the end of the day? Then she could unwind and give her aching muscles some much-needed TLC before going to the Captain's office…

Balls. That didn't sound like a laugh a minute. She hadn't said anything to the guys about not wanting to join their squad; she might have avoided this meeting altogether. Though maybe it would just be the Captain saying thanks for trialling but you aren't suited to us. It probably was that, or she would have continued training with them for the afternoon. Right then, no need to worry.

As he'd predicted the afternoon had gone without a hitch, broadly speaking. The squad was, for the first time ever, working as a single unit and actually paying attention to one another. That was step one.

Levi couldn't pick up on any negativity between Oruo and Petra either, a bonus.

It was going to be another extremely restless afternoon of darting back and forth. Luckily he was a master of being in two places at almost exactly the same time. He was sure Clara would have got the message by now, she should have, if anyone in this regiment knew how to do their damn job. If this meeting went well, he could fast-track Erwin's assessment to this week; perhaps Friday morning would work, then they wouldn't waste any more time on this.

He threw the door to his office open and was relieved to see Clara sat at his desk, though outwardly his expression didn't change. She was positioned rather uncomfortably on the edge of the chair, as though she were already planning how to leave.

On seeing him she stood and stiffly saluted.

"Captain Levi."

He acknowledged her subtly and moved behind his desk, motioning for her to sit back down.

"Let's make this quick so I don't keep you from your squad. I'm interested in your evaluation of Petra as her current squad leader."

"That information should be in her file, Sir." She stated, acid creeping into her tone.

"I'm interested in what you can tell me in person." He pressed.

She avoided his gaze and pursed her lips. It was odd to see such a resolute, respectable woman be so evasive. He analysed her; he was used to people being on edge around him, but in their previous interactions she'd been unflinching and to the point, a quality he'd appreciated.

Taking a slow breath she pushed a stray hair from her face.

"She has a tendency to haphazardness. She's fiery."

At no point did she meet his eyes. They were so still and silent in the room they could have been sitting for an oil painting.

"That all squad leader?" He needled her.

"You asked for my evaluation and I gave it. Sir."

"I find that unusually concise seeing as she's been with your squad for months."

Finally Clara met his cool eyes. There was the strong-willed soldier he'd been expecting to speak with. Her voice was barbed.

"What exactly do you want from me that you haven't been able to figure out for yourself? Haven't you had enough time to meddle with my subordinate and get whatever information you were after Captain?"

Ah, she was protective. He could have some sympathy for that, though this was more exasperating than he'd been expecting. He didn't have time to pussyfoot around. There he was thinking she'd want to get this conversation over with as quickly as he did. That was foolish. He turned to look out of the window.

"Your assessment in her file says that she's 'nothing but a credit to the team'. You wrote that she was a 'caring, perceptive and very capable soldier who flourished when assisting others'. Yet when I ask you directly, you say she's 'haphazard'. So, squad leader, if you wouldn't mind telling me which of those assessments is the correct one then you can be on your merry little way."

His patience was wearing dangerously thin. Clara forcibly exhaled and he heard her stand from her chair.

"Take whatever information is useful to you sir. All of those things are true, I wouldn't lie on a report. But lately her standards have slipped. If that's all, sir."

She moved to leave and was almost at the door before he stopped her,

"I haven't dismissed you soldier."

He walked round coming to lean on the front of his desk, arms folded. They shared a sharp, obstinate glare.

"So if I told you I was recommending Petra to be suspended from the regiment, that would be ok with you?"

Clara's dark eyes betrayed a spark of outrage, but she quickly composed herself. Once you showed too much emotion, you lost.

"She hasn't done anything to warrant that, Captain." Her low voice was unyielding.

"You said yourself her performance has been declining." He nonchalantly picked up Petra's file from his desk and began flicking through it, "Unless you can convince me otherwise I see no reason not to take my recommendation to the Commander."

Clara's lips were pressed in a hard line and a few veins protruded from her clenched fists, but her tone remained flat.

"She's a bright soldier, devoted to the Scout's end goal. Every soldier's performance fluctuates from time to time, sir. I would not hold that against her." She paused, considering, and then; "My squad can not afford to lose our most valuable asset in the field right now."

Bingo. That was what he needed to hear. Replacing the file on the desk he returned his gaze to her, an almost imperceptible glint of achievement bounced through it.

"Thank you soldier. Dismissed."

She stalled for a moment, as though considering a counter, but thought better of it and left.

Our most valuable asset in the field

He could well believe it. When he thought that he'd be stripping Clara's squad of their best soldier he felt a twinge of guilt. He quickly knocked it aside.

Clara was excessively reluctant to compliment Petra at all, at least vocally, which led him to believe that she had an inkling of his intention to poach the little ginger scout for the Special Operations Squad. It was abundantly clear that if he wanted to steal her top squad member she wasn't going to give up easily. Still, she hadn't been formally told of his squad's open position, so she couldn't know it was true yet. Even if she did, there was nothing she could do about it.

There was a reason his squad was made up of the best of the best, they needed to be. They were most often placed in the most dangerous sections of the scouting formation with the hardest assignments. Put simply, Clara's squad would recover from their loss; while his squad had been floundering around for six months, about as useful to the Commander as a goose with a damn stapler.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Shit, they needed to get it together, and things were finally progressing. He collected himself and exited, heading to the barracks.

Steam was rippling pleasantly around her, quelling all her body's tension. The bath house was almost empty, save the distant chatter of women unwinding on their free afternoon. It was perfect. So soothing she would have to be careful not to fall asleep.

Leaning her head back against the stone side she sighed, enjoying the yellow ebbing of the day's light which poured in from above. The autumn days were getting shorter still; it would probably be dusk by the time she was done. The whole experience was definitely worth the the short walk into town and the small expense for entry.

Petra's muscles thrummed with low, constant pain, but she found that with the water's warmth and the gentle atmosphere of the bath house she was enjoying the sore sensation of them repairing themselves.

What a day it had been. Again. Two full days of sweep-you-off-your-feet-push-you-off-a-cliff absurdity. At least in this moment it felt like things were slow. At this point she didn't even want the ups that came careering after the downs, what she really wanted was some stability. She was close though, after one more troublesome meeting with the Captain, this would all be a funny story to tell at the pub. She just had to get to that time in the future…though staying in the bath at present was pretty good too.

God what she wouldn't give to just leave the bath house straight for the pub and have Gerd or Stefan or someone shout "Goldilocks" and each member of the squad neck a pint of ale. Then they could make stupid jokes and lift each other up, being generally loutish. It was a pleasant thought.

"Oh it's you!"

A melodic voice awoke her from her dozing, and she opened her eyes to see Hange stood over her on the edge of the pool, stark naked except for their glasses. Oh lord. You had to be naked to enter the baths, but more than anything it was the extreme upside-down angle she had of their body. Before she could move or even venture a reaction, they had slipped into the bath beside her, their glasses steaming up instantly.

"Petra, was it? You know I heard a rumour that you were training with the Levi squad today. How was it? Did you manage to keep those boys in line? I know they can be kind of a handful."

Hange's energy was enough to bowl anyone over. They radiated a kind of constant excitement, which stormed through everyone they spoke to whether that person were on board with it or not. It was like being chained to a runaway train; you simply had no choice but to be pulled along with it, screaming.

Petra was agape, and had barely choked out a single syllable when they continued;

"I guess that must be why you're here! I'd imagine this place would be a staple for anyone who joined that squad, they're very intense. Though if it's Levi that's worrying you, you shouldn't be too concerned, his bark is way worse than his bite. Unless you're a titan that is!"

Hange collapsed into loud high-pitched laughter, removing their glasses and wiping the condensation away. Petra continued to be awe-struck, she didn't even know where to begin.

"I - uh - thanks?" She eventually managed.

"No worries at all my dear! Between you and me, they've been a complete mess recently, so it's no wonder they went looking for some new blood. How are you with cleaning? I suppose you must be pretty good seeing as you're in the bath house."

That last point might have been a joke, but Hange said it with absolute sincerity, as though they were genuinely considering it.

"Um, cleaning?"

"Yes! I hear they have a squad cleaning schedule that's even more intense than their drills. Surely you know that Levi is a neat freak."

They stared at her unblinking, eagerly awaiting a response. Petra suddenly became aware of how near they were to one another, and she looked back at Hange with the same baffled expression she'd had since they arrived. The clear warm water swirled comfortingly around them both and Petra began to giggle. She had only just come to realise, following the flurry of immediate and overwhelming conversation, that she was very much enjoying Hange's company.

"I didn't know that. Is there anything else I should know about their squad?" She quirked an eyebrow, "…maybe some secrets that could be used as leverage?"

Hange cackled, "I wish! Sadly they never tell me anything, it doesn't matter how many times I ask."

"Ah, darn it."

Amid the billowing steam, wet copper hair gently falling past her large amber eyes, and her cheeks, pink with the warm of the bath, Petra was beautiful. She was like a water nymph from an old book. Wouldn't it be nice to touch the soft cream of her skin…pull her into an embrace…stroke her hair…whisper in her ear…Hange realised they had been staring at her. They blinked, once again removing their glasses and cleaning them.

"Well! I'd better let you get back to your afternoon. But if you're joining Levi's squad I'll see you more often for experiments."

"Oh, er yeah, right!" Petra was flummoxed again, what experiments?!

"If you ever need anything, you can find me in the lab."

Hange was gone in a splash, leaving Petra slightly reeling. They were a lot, but Petra appreciated that they'd gone out of their way just to say hello to her, and after they'd only vaguely met once before. She found herself hoping that she would would see Hange more often, though she definitely wasn't going to be a part of whatever 'experiments' they were doing with the Levi Squad, seeing as she was sure she wasn't joining it.

She sighed. She would soak until she was a prune, anything to delay the walk over to the Captain's office.

Chapter 5: You Don't Know?

Chapter Text

Two more minutes until perfect. Levi lit the final candle on his desk. The sun had set, and the light of the small flames licked across the little office, imbuing the bookcases and rudimentary wooden furniture with a warming orange glow. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and relaxed into his desk chair; tranquility. Moments like this were few and far between.

The room was (obviously) spotless, and the darkness through the window mingling with the soft candlelight eased him; akin to his small apartment underground. There were even nights he slept right here in his office chair because of it, after all this strange half light was what he'd grown up with.

It was odd to take comfort in remembering that dank, miserable place; a place he was glad to be free of, but for some reason, on evenings such as this, his memories filtered out the rotten. It might have been that once someone was lost forever, everything connected to them was beautified and dire circumstances fell by the wayside.

Besides, it was better to remember them peacefully when he could, seeing as his dreams regularly ravaged him with the nightmarish images of their final monstrous moments, shattering his rose-tinted glasses.

He lifted the lid to the teapot, inhaling the fragrant aroma, nearly done.

It seemed that in his and Petra's absence, the team had returned to their former anarchy, squabbling and making a general mess of their assignment. Hm. At least that reinforced the necessity of his darting around.

When he'd returned to the barracks and asked how they'd found the afternoon's new five-person formation, they had all quietly conceded that it was a success, and that they wanted to continue down that route for future training. Eld had actually said that he couldn't wait to work specifically with Petra again, and rather surprisingly admitted that he'd like to learn techniques from her. Gunther agreed, reflecting that though it was still early days, the new dynamic was a vast improvement, and it was largely down to her. Oruo remained quiet, but nodded along, giving the occasional approving grunt.

He didn't need their blessing to be confident in his decision, but it was good to know he had it.

Now he just had to convince Erwin.

There was a shaky rap on the door.

"…Captain?"

He almost smirked at her hesitancy.

"Come in."

Petra shyly took one step into the room, hanging by the wall. She had changed into basic civilian clothes which took him off guard slightly; this was a professional meeting.

He took a slow breath.

He supposed he had given her some time off in the afternoon…maybe he could overlook minor insubordination on this occasion, there were more important things to sort out and he didn't need to stand on ceremony now, there'd be plenty of time to enforce rules in training.

He lifted the lid off the teapot again and studied the colour of the liquid. Ready. Removing the tea leaves and setting them aside, he slowly poured a cup, aware that she was watching him nervously from the edge of the room.

He stopped, hands on still on the pot and glanced up at her; her concerned brows twitching together was, for a moment, the only movement. Lowering the pot again, he held her gaze momentarily before inclining his head somewhat.

"Take a seat."

She heeded him, warily stalking to the chair opposite his and sitting. He lifted the teapot once more and indicated to the second cup in question.

"Oh…er thank you sir." She gave a troubled smile and a short nod.

As he poured the tea he studied her. She was looking down, her hands shifting and picking at the skin around her thumbs, her light breath delicately wavering. She was more tentative than he'd been expecting. Tea should calm her a bit.

He slowly pushed the second teacup to her and lifted his own to his lips in his signature way, his fingers clasping the over the cup's rim, and noted the small look of surprise which flashed across her face before she quickly returned her gaze downwards, warming her hands on the edges of her tea.

"Petra, how did you find training today?"

He took a sip and she hummed a moment in consideration.

"Difficult, sir. I wasn't used to drilling so intensely as I'm sure you noticed."

There was a gentle clinking of china as he returned his cup to its saucer.

"Hm. And how would you improve the formation?"

Her golden-bronze eyes flicked up quickly and questioningly, catching his pale grey ones,

"Sir?"

He blinked plainly, before relaxing further back into his chair and continued;

"Nothing is ever perfect first time. What improvements would you suggest to the formation we tested this afternoon?"

Petra took a moment, her mind turning over his question and her hands now clasping together on her lap as though willing her to think faster.

"Well sir, I suppose…" She returned her gaze to him with some assurance, "It might have been better if you'd placed me on the left hand side, being that I'm left side dominant."

Interesting. And unexpectedly useful: the potential for both sides of a double strike to be from the soldiers' dominant side. That would mean no matter who from the squad he paired with her in that rear position, or for any two-scout attack, the accuracy could be somewhat balanced out. It also meant that she'd been poorly taught when it came to sparring; most right-dominant soldiers were used to fighting right-dominant soldiers, so a lefty in theory could take them off guard more easily.

He nodded once, and eyed her, urging her to continue.

"Oh, right. Well, I haven't worked with Eld and Gunther before, so it's hard for me to know where in a formation they would be best placed, sir. Though I'm sure you knew that when you…" She cleared her throat, "I had assumed…"

She tailed off, playing with the ends of her sleeves. She looked up at him apologetically as he leaned in to pick up his tea from the desk again.

"Go on."

"Sorry. It's just that I had assumed that you wouldn't require any assistance taking out a target, sir. So it confused me that you asked me to do that with you."

His smile was so faint that it was likely imperceptible to her…also it was completely hidden by the cup of tea he held in front of it. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent and warmth of the brew, before taking a long sip. She observed him carefully, completely unsure how he would respond.

"You haven't touched your tea Ral."

"Oh - er - " she stumbled, picking up the cup and weakly holding it to her lips, "Thank you Captain."

"Sometimes it's useful to lead by example." He said, watching her.

"I see sir…so you needed someone of a similar…uh, stature to you to demonstrate that new pincer technique to your squad?"

Levi internally flinched. His lips parted a little. That wasn't…at all what he meant. Did she really have no idea why she'd been training with them? Then again, he'd never expressly told her and she wasn't clairvoyant. Probably.

"No." He replaced his now empty cup onto its saucer rather firmly, "A new contract is being drawn up for you, along with a transfer request to join the Special Operations Squad."

Petra's hand jolted, causing tea to splash up, almost spilling over the sides. Her face drained of colour.

"B-but sir I…that's very flattering…"

"You can read over it tomorrow on your break. Then it's a case of being surveyed by Erwin on Friday morning before anything is confirmed."

Now she was completely frozen in place, save her breathing which quickened. Her reaction was proving a lot more unusual than any of the previous offers he'd made to members of his squad. He was used to a pleased, borderline smug smile and the offer of a handshake, which of course he never accepted. Who knew where those disgusting hands had been.

"I'm - um. I mean that's…wow sir." She placed her cup back on the desk, fearing she might spill tea everywhere. She couldn't seem to stop blinking. "It's just, the squad today - I mean - they seemed very polished. Are you really sure you need another member?"

His eyes widened a touch. Well there was a response he'd never anticipated. He furrowed his brow, his stare boring into the desk in rapid thought.

"Are you saying you would prefer to stay with your current squad?"

She took a sharp intake of breath.

"I…I don't know sir."

For a split second they locked eyes.

"You don't know?"

This was mystifying. Didn't she consider how prestigious this squad was? What an honour it was to join it? That there was a pay rise? He exhaled and went to pour himself another cup of tea. Tch.

What was he supposed to do now? Convince her? With words? Shit. He hadn't even considered the possibility that she wouldn't want to join the squad, and he certainly wasn't going to force her, above everything (except maybe cleanliness) he believed in a person's right to make their own decisions; the decision they'd regret the least. Even if that decision was about to make his situation a whole damn lot harder. If only he could somehow channel Erwin, that tall, brilliant blonde bastard always seemed to talk his way into whatever he needed.

"It's just all very sudden and unexpected, sir. I don't know if I'm ready for so much responsibility."

Did this mean there was a possibility that she'd regret joining his squad? He swallowed hot tea. Think. Think. There would be other soldiers that could fit if she didn't want to join. He'd have to spin something with Erwin to get more time. Shit…he really didn't want to have to do that. Plus it was unlikely they would be quite as well suited as Petra instantly was; something had just clicked with her. They might take longer to assimilate. The whole squad was already singing her praises for Maria's sake, how much respect might they lose for him if she turned down this offer? Replacing the cup once more he looked squarely at her.

"It's your choice. But consider that if you weren't ready then the option wouldn't be available to you."

The candlelight jumped through her uneasy eyes.

"Thank you, sir."

"Look over the contract tomorrow on your break. You can leave it in my office in the afternoon with your decision. Dismissed."

"Captain- "

He glared at her, and she hurriedly stood and bowed her head, before scurrying out the door.

Damn it. Well that didn't go as planned. It suddenly felt very hot in the little office. He sighed in frustration, removing his cravat and folding it neatly on the desk. He rested his chin on his hand, eyes staring forward.

Nothing could ever just follow the simplest path.

She had to have picked up on the remarkable function of the squad this afternoon in comparison to her own, it was indisputably superior. Having worked at that elite level it was beyond him that she would ever want to continue in a lesser squad. What was the point in joining the military at all if you didn't want to improve your rank? And more generally speaking, be as serviceable as you possibly could to humanity?

Perhaps, given a day returning to train with her usual squad, she would feel the difference and be persuaded to advance.

Shit. All he could do was wait and hope she saw sense. His gut was seldom wrong, and he wasn't willing to disturb Erwin just yet.

Petra practically sprinted down the hallways to get away. Holy hell. It had been a long time since she'd felt so awkward, and only hours ago she'd shared a naked bath with Hange. The Captain had barely changed his expression the whole time she was in his office, yet he was undeniably bothered by her response, like a pond's smooth surface being momentarily rippled by a moving fish. For someone so stern and unreadable, it was unsettling, and it made her feel a pang of guilt, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

Had she offended him? Darn it. She'd only gone and pissed off 'Humanity's strongest'. That took a particular kind of idiocy, one she hadn't known she possessed until this very moment.

It was just…even though she'd known that the offer was a possibility, she hadn't ever really believed it would be made to her. It genuinely felt as though it was impossible following her far from perfect morning trial. And he had given her basically no confirmation that what she was doing in the afternoon was any good. Granted, the dispatches were clean but…that was all she really had to go on.

The whole ordeal was completely baffling. And now she found herself outside in the courtyard, with no inkling of where to go at all. This was going to take some time to process alone, then she could maybe ask Hannah and Jules their opinions once she was sure she could explain everything that'd happened without just senselessly babbling at them.

She began wandering aimlessly, hands in her pockets, kicking fallen leaves. Her breath misted out into the darkness, she always liked it when it was cold enough for that.

She wasn't wrong earlier in thinking that joining this new squad would be too tough for her; surely it would be, if her still stinging muscles were anything to go by. And they weren't the friendliest bunch.

Though Eld had apologised to her. And Gunther gave her his handkerchief for her bleeding nose. And Oruo…well…

Oh god why was this such a mess. The Captain wouldn't make her an offer unless he meant it, she was sure of that at least. He didn't seem the type to piss around.

That was actually the first conversation she'd ever had with Captain Levi beyond him giving her orders and she wasn't really sure what to think of him anymore. Meeting someone properly who you'd had such a solid picture of in your mind, due to them being, in no uncertain terms, 'famous' (though perhaps 'infamous' was more accurate to some), was always going to be an upending experience. 'Never meet your heroes' her mother had often told her, wagging her finger and stirring the broth for dinner. Captain Levi wasn't her personal hero, but he was a beacon of hope for the Scouts as a whole, so if you joined you already had a measure of respect for him. Beacons though, were intangible, being made out of light, not flesh, blood and piercing blue-grey eyes.

At first she wasn't too surprised by him, he came across as measured and icy; a man of few words, as was common knowledge. In the short while that she'd spent time with him he'd appeared to silently analyse everything, but not shed any light on the deep well of his conclusions. Mysterious, though frightening enough that she was ok not knowing any of his thoughts. Or was she?

That was part of it. He just wasn't as scary as she'd expected one-on-one. She had been overwhelmingly nervous for the meeting, but now that she thought about it, it was mostly due to her preconceptions. Beyond the ferocity of his gaze, he'd offered her tea. He'd asked her questions about what she thought, and about the way he ran his own squad no less. She hadn't thought he'd ever be concerned with something as trivial as her opinion on those matters, Clara had certainly never asked it.

It was completely baseless, but she felt like he was actually interested in her answers too. She'd been told that the Captain was course and impolite, and she'd seen him be both in her time, yet that meeting…though awkward as hell, was neither.

He'd also given her a choice. Surely he could just order her to accept the position?

Up ahead she saw the faint oscillating glow of the soldiers' tavern, and heard its rowdy laughter and chatter. It was still too soon to face anyone with this predicament, and it was very likely a few of her squad were there. She turned away and walked slowly towards the edges of the grounds.

A promotion.

Her father would jump for joy if he heard that; she could send more money back each month. Though, the Levi Squad's assignments were certainly not the safest. They probably came up against the most titans on expeditions. And the most abnormals. She trembled a little. Her family probably wouldn't take to that news so gladly. She had assisted with killing those giant bastards before, many times; and obviously she would have to do it more in the future, that was her job, but was she willing to throw herself into the flaming heart of the action?

Whichever squad you were assigned to had it's own system; micro-movements and assumptions you could make about your fellow team-mates that helped to keep you all safe. As part of a new squad she'd have to re-learn all of that, no mean feat.

But…could she truly progress in Squad Clara? Was she coasting at present? Not taking any extra risks just so she could spend time with her friends? And if so…was that a problem?

She stopped in the middle of the path, hand on her forehead. She had a splitting headache, and once again her heart was beating unsteadily. She really hoped you couldn't get a nosebleed from thinking too much.

A gentle melody distantly rolled through the air, dragging her from her pit of tumultuous self pity and her legs began subconsciously walking in the direction of the sound. The low soft booming of a double bass. A mellow drumbeat. The faint chiming of a guitar, and as she approached, lyrics sung in a delicate, tuneful tenor voice:

You left me out in the cold

Folded over in my winter coat

When I looked in your eyes

Full of ideas broad as the skies

I took myself to the Doctors

They said nothing was wrong

And I said "for you I'm a man made of wax"

And you said "My dear, I've known all along"

How can I be more plain

As I fall asleep on my lips just your name

Just your name…

It was coming from the old mill building; through the darkness she could just about make out its shabby exterior. There was a dim light shining beneath the bottom of the old wooden door, but all the windows were boarded up. She ran around the edges, trying to find a single window to see in through…nothing.

Hmph. She kicked up a pile of leaves and spotted something tumble along the ground; a scrunched up piece of paper…no…a flyer.

The Scout's Band. Of course, tonight was their first practice.

She'd never seriously considered going when Hannah gave her a flyer the previous morning, but now, on the other side of the wall to their playing, she felt a surge of excitement; she hadn't played music with other people since she left home to join the cadets.

And the band…they actually sounded…good? That was a surprise for sure. Who was playing? If only there was even one uncovered window.

Back home she had no siblings, and with her parents working around the clock as her only close family, she spent a lot of time alone. There was the imaginary friend phase, the baking phase and finally the music phase; one that stuck. Her parents had taken her out to the winter market that year and they came across a young teenage girl playing a guitar in the town centre. The girl's clothes were tattered and worn, it was clear she was only singing for money, but the way she'd played, so beautiful and evocative, young Petra was captivated.

On her birthday not two weeks later her father presented her with a small, battered old guitar and she'd burst into floods of tears. She took it with her everywhere she went and spent every spare second playing, much to her parent's initial chagrin. It didn't take long though for her to start getting competent, and soon she was in the schoolyard, surrounded by her classmates and playing songs for them while they sang.

Hannah often teased her for it - the guitar was stationed in the corner of their dorm room, and was apparently "treated with more respect than any of the residents!". Petra smiled to herself; she knew that despite the ribbing, the pair of them loved it when she played for them on a lazy evening.

She leant by the door of the mill, sinking to the floor, and listened to the band members chat and improvise a little together. They all sounded borderline fanatical about what they were doing; the big bunch of nerds. Part of her really wanted to knock on the door and be a nerd too. Maybe one day she would.

She swaddled herself in her thin coat and stayed maybe twenty minutes enjoying listening to the chatter and music before picking herself back up. It had been a welcome distraction from her dilemma, and her headache had mostly subsided. She trundled off into the evening, towards the pub.

"Hey, you coming?" Eld asked, pulling on his tan jacket and knocking on Gunther's door.

There was a pause.

"No go ahead. Might see you there later." Came the reply.

"Oh, cool." Eld said, barely concealing his disappointment.

That meant just him and Oruo. Great. He couldn't wait. Hopefully Anna's squad would be at the tavern already and he could join them; all he had to do was dilute Oruo a bit with other, less cavalier folks.

It hadn't slipped Eld's notice that Gunther had been acting strangely since they'd returned from training. He was also totally distracted during their second trip down the ODM run with just the three of them, more so than usual even; Eld actually chalked him up to be the squad's biggest problem of the late afternoon. He was hesitant to write that up in the report however, as it was far more usual for Oruo to be the main issue, and he supposed that today had been a bit abnormal for everyone.

After they'd reviewed the trial today with the Captain - where Gunther spoke more than he ever had before - Eld noticed that he'd immediately rushed off to his room, flustered. Was it possible that Gunther had a crush on Petra? Why else would he compliment her to the Captain like that? It was so completely unlike him.

In addition Oruo had had shockingly little to say at the meeting, and that guy usually loved the sound of his own voice.

The pair of them trudged towards the tavern in thorny silence, which he hoped wasn't an omen of the evening ahead. No, he wouldn't let it be;

"Did you think Gunther was acting strange today?"

"Hm?" Oruo grunted, "Didn't really notice."

"What seriously? The guy spoke for nearly a full thirty seconds without stopping. That's a definite record for him."

"Yeah…I guess."

"Oruo - are you ok? You're weirdly quiet today man. It's like you two have swapped or something."

Eld's concern seemed to light a defensive fire in the previously subdued Oruo, who immediately got his back up;

"What? No - I - when you're carrying the whole team, as I was forced to do this afternoon, sometimes you get a little tired. You wouldn't know anything about that though."

"Oh that's what it was, of course! And there I was worried you'd just bit your massive tongue again and it hurt too much to talk."

Oruo scoffed, "Well maybe you should follow my lead and shut the fuck up, Eld."

Eld snorted, and put his hands in his pockets. God it really wasn't even worth trying was it. The lights of the pub burned up ahead. Not much further now at least. They paced a bit further until his curiosity got the better of him;

"I think he likes Petra." He remarked plainly.

Oruo momentarily stopped in his tracks, "Gunther?"

"Yeah. I know you're pretending to be above it or whatever, but he's been really on edge since training this afternoon. No idea what else would rattle him like that - plus we've basically been with him the whole time. I mean, come on, he was praising her to the Captain…I've only ever heard him talk that animatedly once before and it was about that weird goblin book he was into."

"Pfft." Oruo scratched the back of his head, muttering, "If Petra does join the squad it's not like he'd have a chance with her."

That piqued Eld's interest; "What makes you say that? Find out a bit about her type back in cadets did you?"

"Hmph. Like I'd tell you."

"You're a real fountain of knowledge, you know that Oruo?"

They pushed into the tavern and Oruo immediately disappeared among the disorderly. Classic. He'd probably find him later on playing darts with some Garrison troops.

Eld looked around, but couldn't see anyone he was friendly with. What a letdown. He headed to the bar. Maybe he could play chess by himself in a corner…it wouldn't be the first time.

"Ale please."

The bartender nodded and busied himself.

"Eld?"

Anna had appeared next to him out of nowhere. She was as pretty as he'd remembered, her mousy locks tied in messy bun, a few loose strands grazing her bright almond-shaped brown eyes. Eld cracked a wide smile;

"Anna!"

She smiled back, raising her beer to cheers him. As if on cue, the bartender slid the tankard over to him and they lifted their drinks.

"Cheers!" He beamed.

"Yeah, cheers." She motioned with her head towards a small booth by the wall, "Why don't you come join us?"

This was what he had been waiting for; some time to fully chill out. It felt like with their current schedule (mostly due to Squad Levi's shortcomings) moments to properly relax were few and far between.

Anna's squad did not disappoint. They joked and swapped stories about various encounters with the Military Police and cadets, all the while the beer flowed as though limitless.

Patrik shared a priceless and (Eld decided) most-likely fictional story in which Commander Erwin, having mistakenly eaten some 'fun' mushroom stew Hange had cooked up to "broaden their creative and scientific thinking", demanded to be planted into the ground as a tree, stating that his skin had turned to bark and he ought to be treated accordingly.

He quietly lamented. Why couldn't his squad be like this? It would take the burden off of the sheer intensity of their job. He figured it would actually improve their field performance. Thank god he had other friends in the regiment to have a laugh with at least on occasion.

"Another round?" He asked, moving to stand up, and the table cheered in affirmation.

As he pushed through the crowd he spotted a familiar shade of copper hair by the door. He caught Petra's eye and smiled. She faintly smiled back, though she appeared to have withdrawn into herself completely. Right, she'd had her meeting with the Captain. All of a sudden he felt a pang of concern.

"Hey! Petra!" He waved her over, "How's it going?"

She approached him in a kind of preoccupied haze.

"Eld, Hi. Not too bad I guess…though I think I need a drink." Her eyes were darting about distractedly.

He chuckled and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "You and me both."

Petra appeared to relax a little as they wandered through the tipsy soldiers to the bar.

"Six pints." Eld asked the bartender, who gave him a knowing smile and pulled out a tray.

"Afternoon that rough, huh?" She smirked.

Eld laughed again, "Well, you know what it's like training as one of Squad Levi. There are days when even six won't cut it." He gestured towards the booth where he'd been sat, "That's Squad Anna, you're welcome to join us too if you're at a loose end."

"Oh, thanks." She quickly scanned the other visible tables, frowning, "If that's ok with them…that…might be fun."

The tray of drinks appeared between them and Eld handed the bartender the remainder of his cash. He scowled. Never mind, pay day would come around soon enough.

"Go on," he gestured to a tankard, "One's for you, obviously."

Petra looked like she might cry. "Thank you."

The tankard looked absolutely huge in her small hand, he briefly wondered how she could support the weight of it.

"It's the least I can do for a new squad mate."

She blanched.

"Oh…right." She mumbled, moving the tankard to her lips.

"Whoah there!" Eld interjected, when she didn't stop drinking for a full ten seconds. He put a hand on her tankard and lightly pushed it down from her mouth, revealing her large, worried eyes, "Is everything alright? Did the Captain not offer you the position?"

"No, he did." She chewed her lip, "I'm just not sure I want to take it."

Eld was so caught off guard he nearly knocked over one of the many pints of ale. He regarded her quizzically for a second.

"Really? That's - " He gazed at his feet, bothered, his brows knitted together-

"Oi Eld! What's taking so long?"

Patrik had appeared by them; he was wobbling a tad, grasping Eld's shoulder, a drunken glow flushing his round cheeks.

"Oh yeah - uh - sorry man. Here, you take the tray over. I'm gonna chat to Petra here for a bit if that's cool."

"No problem big E, see ya." Patrik stumbled off, swaying about with the tray in a way that looked truly dangerous and it was a wonder that all the drinks made it to the table in tact.

Petra chortled, "Big E?" She looked at him with mock question, "I seriously hope the E stands for Eld."

"Actually it stands for Egg-roll, after I ate forty of them at an eating contest."

Petra snorted and beer came jetting through her nose, "For real?!"

He chuckled, shaking his head, "No, no it stands for Eld."

She looked sunnily incredulous, and took the old and bloody handkerchief from her pocket, frowning at it a moment. Eld sighed, and offered up his, which she apologetically accepted and wiped her face.

She was abashed, "Sorry, that was gross."

"You know, you should really get a new one of those."

She smiled sheepishly "Definitely…uh…didn't you wanna go and sit with your friends over there?"

He shrugged, a serious note to his tone, "I'd rather ask you why you aren't sure about the squad."

Petra's face fell, "I'm just not really sure I'm ready is all. I feel absolutely wrecked after today…and I didn't even finish the afternoon runs with you."

"Did you not see the looks on the guys' faces earlier? You're ready. Just gotta build up a bit of strength and stamina, but that'll happen naturally after a couple of weeks training with us. I'd give you a month to be level with us on circuits - that's nothing."

"That's nice of you."

"Fuck nice. What do I have to gain by being nice?" He crossed his arms, "It's just true. Look, I wasn't convinced myself when you were drilling with us in the morning, but you made the rest of us look like total jackasses on the run this afternoon, that's where it counts Petra."

She took in a shaky breath, and gulped down more beer. Eld eyed her apprehensively;

"I get it. It's gotta be hard to train with a new squad, but I guess you have to ask yourself why you really joined the Scouts in the first place. I thought that anyone who did liked to take the odd risk." He raised an eyebrow.

Petra froze. Something he'd said had struck a chord. That was good, she was the first hope of harmony his squad had. Then there was the bonus that she was actually at the pub, they were getting along well and she had literally laughed at one of his dumb jokes.

"…Did you really eat forty egg rolls in one sitting?" She asked quietly, afraid of the potential stupidity of the question.

He cracked a wide grin, "Sadly, no…I only managed twelve."

"Twelve?…cool." She smiled somewhat, and downed her drink.

Chapter 6: The Contract

Chapter Text

Thursday

Petra 'awoke' early before the bell. She had no idea of the time, but it was just about light out and Hannah and Julia were still sleeping (mostly) soundlessly.

She hadn't really slept at all. The night had brought wavering dreams which slipped from her with the dawn, leaving behind an array of intense colours and a feeling of unbelievable unease. Her head began to pound again forcefully as she sat up fully and clambered down to the floor, finding the day's outfit as quietly as she could.

"But I guess you have to ask yourself why you really joined the Scouts in the first place."

The words tortured her. From the moment the sentence left Eld's lips in the tavern, it'd snaked its way around her brain, squeezing it in a choke-hold, and she was certain no amount of drinking water or cold showering could alleviate the subsequent headache.

She knew the answer to the question of course, but the implication of it terrified her. On top of that, once she'd returned to the dorm room, Hannah and Jules weren't there to unpack it with her. They hadn't been at the pub either, where she expected they would have gone after training. She had assumed they'd just somehow missed each other, or maybe they were out looking for her…but something didn't feel quite right.

When she was ready she made her way to the Scouts general office to pick up the contract to review. She was going early seeing as she only had until the afternoon to deal with it, and it was better she sat with it as long as she could.

She clasped it firmly in her hand; it seemed simple enough; a few papers rolled up and tied with string, but what it symbolised was something altogether a lot more complex. Who'd have thought a few flimsy pieces of paper might have kept her up at night, when her job title was essentially 'murderer of human-eating giants'.

Irritable, she lumbered to the mess hall. At least today she was up early enough to get some coffee and actually have a sit down while she ate. The hall was sparse; it must have been earlier than she thought. She collected a cup of coffee along with an orange and a bread roll, and sat wearily at a table by herself.

As she ate, her eyes flicked continuously to the rolled up pages, willing the string to untie itself, so she didn't have to make the conscious decision to read it. If she decided, it was somehow her fault if she were unhappy with the consequences, but if it were to just unfurl by itself then she would just happen to read it and…god this was stupid. She already knew in her gut what to do.

She was just delaying the inevitable.

Taking a final mouthful of coffee, she tugged at the string and unrolled the documents. She scanned them, reading over each page twice. It was unbelievably boring, save the section which mentioned a pay rise, that bit she supposed was ok. The gist was that the Levi Squad worked longer hours, had more responsibilities (specific to her was that she'd be on medical duty for the squad if the medical cart was nowhere around) and there was a probability of occasional paperwork, something which she didn't have to do at present. But most of it she knew already.

She re-rolled it with a scowl and tied the string back up, indignantly pressing an orange segment into her mouth. She wasn't entirely sure what she had expected to feel after reading it but it certainly hadn't been an enlightening experience. She supposed she just wanted it to somehow reaffirm what her gut was telling her. But how could a piece of paper do that…

"Morning short-stuff!" Hannah chirped, coming to sit opposite her, "You're up early!"

Jules wasn't far behind, she was sleepily rubbing her eyes. She seemed detached, and barely mumbled a good-morning as she placed her breakfast tray on the table.

"Morning guys." Petra muttered with a tired smile, "It was kinda weird not seeing you both last night."

Hannah's hand moved to the back of her neck restlessly, "Aw yeah…er sorry, Clara took the squad to the tea house after training and then we all stayed in town for dinner. We wanted to leave you a note, but Clara said we didn't have time to return to the barracks…"

"Oh." Petra looked crestfallen, "Did you have fun?"

"I mean, it was really nice…but we missed you baby girl." She smiled remorsefully, "It's just not the same when it's not the three of us."

Julia stormily put down her coffee cup, which made a sharp clattering sound. Hannah's eyes were briefly sullen, before she mopped up Jules's spilled coffee with a napkin.

"Jules is everything ok?" Petra asked delicately. It had been a long while since she'd seen her friend so crabby. Hannah answered for her however;

"She's fine. Just another late night is all. We're gonna have to take it a bit easier the next few evenings I reckon!"

Laughing, Hannah put her arm around the very despondent Julia. Petra knew that laugh. It wasn't real; it was an affectation she sometimes put on to try and make everything seem fine.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Petra pushed, trying to catch the brunette's eyes.

"Petra, what's this?" Hannah questioned, having picked up the roll of documents and squinting at it; clearly trying to change the subject.

"That's - nothing." Petra mumbled, grabbing it from Hannah's hand.

The table fell into a strange silence. Sheesh. It was maybe the most awkward it had ever been between the three of them. The squad had gone on a night out, without her. That kinda sucked. They hardly ever went into town as a full squad; usually only after expeditions. What was the occasion for it? Were they waiting until she was gone for some reason?

Stop being so darn paranoid. Of course that wasn't it.

It was petty, but that small revelation made her not want to tell them about the offer to join the Levi Squad. The silence dragged on and she began bitterly ripping up her discarded bits of orange peel.

This was silly. She shouldn't be punishing her friends because Clara decided to take the squad out for a social. It wasn't their fault after all. It was Clara's. And Clara decided to take the squad out knowing Petra wouldn't be able to go.

Hannah cleared her throat, "How was the rest of the afternoon training with the Levi Squad in the end? As brutal as the morning?"

"No, actually." She eyed her friends for a moment, her brows tying together, "The Captain offered me a spot on his squad."

The pair of them stopped still, but what struck her was that they didn't seem that surprised by her revelation, which was weird, because only yesterday neither of them even knew who she was training with. Had Hange maybe said something to someone after their conversation at the bathhouse?

Julia was simply staring straight at her, and Hannah feebly smiled;

"Congratulations." The blonde mustered, "That's…great. Do you think'll you'll take it?"

Petra stalled a moment. Her insides were swirling all around and she felt sick, as though her core temperature was suddenly and forcefully fluctuating of it's own accord;

"…Yes." She choked out.

A brief stunned silence followed.

"Are you sure that's the right thing to do?" Hannah prodded, "You should have seen yourself yesterday lunchtime. I've never seen you so drained and mad at a group of people."

"I - that's true. Yesterday was hellish. Training with them in the morning was just short of a living nightmare but…" She rubbed her hands down her face, exhaling, "The afternoon was…good. Hard, really hard work, but I've never been down the run so fast before, or taken out so many dummy titans in one go."

"You'd split the three of us up just so you can go a bit faster down the run?" Hannah's voice was spiked with hurt.

Julia abruptly stood, snorting and left at speed with her tray. They both quietly watched her go.

Hannah continued, "Petra, please think about this. You won't be happy there."

Petra couldn't keep the torment from her large eyes, but her tone was resolute, "We should go. Let's not be late for our last day training together."

Hannah defiantly stuttered, but Petra was already leaving.

Gunther awoke feeling completely refreshed. He always slept well, but he had slept remarkably well last night, must be something to do with having such an enjoyable evening.

Everything felt easier today. He shaved in record time without nicking himself, washed and dressed and was in the common room before anyone else. He would try and work this coffee maker, couldn't be too hard.

He pulled apart the metal contraption, which had several internal compartments, none of which he knew the use of. He supposed that coffee went in the bottom section and the water over it. Then heated. Hmm. That didn't look right. This was harder than he'd initially thought.

After no less than four failed attempts and an unbelievable amount of coffee grounds spillage, he was cleaning up. Better to just get coffee from the mess hall. No matter, nothing could bring him down today.

Wiping away the final grounds, he rinsed the cloth in the sink, becoming aware of a presence in the room.

"Hey. Manage to get that thing working?"

Eld. He had to give it to the guy, he tried to make coffee with the odd contraption every morning without fail, though his efforts were still only marginally better than Gunther's own shocking attempt.

"Nah." He answered, heading for the door, "Gonna get some from the mess hall."

"Mind if I join you?"

"If you want."

Gunther was reeling a little, he didn't feel at all like himself, but in the best possible way. Though he could clearly see reality around him, he was completely trapped replaying the events of the previous evening: the opening of the note in his room, reading it over and over, checking it was real;

Meet me at the town fountain at eight. J

His purposeful walk over, catching James's eye for the first time of many that evening, the way their hands had brushed as they walked by the stream. Was it just him, or was it really sunny today? His chest puffed up, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy.

It seemed Eld had been trying to get his attention for a while, and he vaguely came to, just about re-hearing the blonde man's last sentence;

"Didn't catch you at the tavern - did you decide to stay in? …Gunther?"

"Mm." He nodded. The squad didn't need to know about his evening. Though he reasoned that if Petra joined she might find out, since she gave him the note in the first place. That was ok, he owed her.

"Fair. Uh - how are you feeling about Petra maybe joining the squad?" Eld asked.

Gunther flinched slightly on hearing her name after he'd just been thinking it. Eld smirked to himself.

"Good. She'd a strong candidate." He replied flatly, before once again getting lost in the blue of James's eyes as they blinked in his mind. He was so charming, little freckles peppered over his-

"Gunther!" Eld was incredulous, "Do you even want coffee?"

Oh right, they were at the counter already. He hadn't even noticed them enter the mess hall.

"Sure, black please."

Eld shook his head in disbelief as went to collect two cups and returned, shoving one towards Gunther, "Jeez man. I know you've been a bit out of it lately but this is on a whole new level. Maybe Petra shouldn't join the squad if it's gonna make you this dopey."

"Huh?" Gunther downed his coffee in one and looked back at him. He had no idea what Eld was prattling on about. "Let's get to the gym." He said mindlessly, giving Eld back his empty cup and walking away, leaving the astonished blonde agape.

Clara's squad were gathering outside their stables. Today they would be taking out dummies on horseback from one of the fields as a group. It was a particularly difficult task, as there weren't a lot of things to hook onto other than the titan itself, which was always unbelievably dangerous and was only ever taken as a last resort on expeditions if escape on horseback was impossible.

"Fetch your saddles and meet me at the entrance to the big field." Clara instructed, watching as her squad dispersed, "Oh no, no, no - not you Petra."

Petra stopped and faced her Squad leader. She was on tenterhooks and still feeling bruised from learning of her squad's trip out without her. She blinked as Clara pushed a shovel towards her forcefully,

"You're mucking out the stables today Ral."

Petra's heart sank and she reluctantly took the shovel, "Just me, sir?"

"Just you. Didn't think I'd forget your punishment now, did you?"

Petra couldn't bring herself to look at Clara, she swallowed, "No, sir."

"Once you're done here - you can take fifteen minutes for lunch - then you're pot washing in the kitchen until the evening."

"B-but sir!"

"Can it Ral, don't make this worse for yourself." With that, Clara stalked off to fetch her own saddle.

The whole day. The whole day on chores, alone. Petra was frozen and her eyes pricked with tears, but she wouldn't cry. It was worse than she was expecting, but she had to respect whatever punishment was doled out and trust it fit the crime. Though she couldn't help but slightly indulge in the notion of the unfairness of it all; usually minor lateness only earned you fifty push-ups.

Would Clara have put her on chores for the whole day if she knew it was possibly Petra's last day on her squad? It seemed a little harsh if she knew. Then again it might be the last day Clara had the authority to punish her; she just hadn't thought Clara to be so begrudging and cruel.

Even still, they were barely five minutes late the other morning. And she didn't look that scruffy did she? Five minutes lateness for a whole day of chores. Clara must've been really pissed about it. It could have been to do with the fact they were late on a day the Captain had been surveying them…that might've made Clara look like a bad squad leader. She gulped. A combination of guilt and annoyance swashed around her as she began walking into the now empty stables.

She was stayed by the sound of a horse's hooves and the slight thump of someone dismounting.

"Hey." Jules said softly. She calmed her mare with a nuzzle pat before walking slowly towards Petra.

"Hay." Petra managed cheerlessly, tipping her shovel and allowing some straw to fall from it.

Julia looked less than amused.

Petra sighed, "Did you hear, it is mucking out stables for me."

Jules stopped a couple of metres away, her face drawn, "I'm sorry. I wanted to say well done for the promotion, you really deserve it." She spoke quietly, but with candour.

Petra's breath caught. Hearing her friend acknowledge her decision somehow made said decision extraordinarily real.

"Hah…thank you. Though I still have to pass Commander Erwin's assessment, which is apparently happening tomorrow morning." She paused, could her nerves really handle all this? She could muck out the stables quickly then have a lie down in the fresh hay for a while. Clara would never know.

"You know you won't have a problem doing that Petra." Julia was eerily still, and she seemed edgy as she continued;

"Listen, If you want to leave our squad, I trust your decision and back you." She exhaled, and moved to lean on the wall of the stable;

"Clara kept making strange comments to me and Hannah last night…things like, "You know Petra is vital to this squad's survival" and even at one point "it would be a shame if the three of you were to be split up for any reason." It didn't take much to put two and two together since we knew where you were all day. Hannah spent most of last night trying to get me to think up ways to get you to stay, but it's your decision. It really ticked me off that she didn't even want to listen to you. Please just tell me you're leaving for the right reasons."

A lump was forming in Petra's throat. Oh. She suddenly remembered how she and Oruo had drifted apart when he joined the Special Ops Squad; how they'd barely spoken in months. Her lip quivered a little.

"I ran into Eld yesterday in the pub - he's in the Levi Squad. He reminded me why I joined the Survey Corps in the first place."

She trailed the shovel across the floor, mindlessly pushing straw about;

"I pledged to help free everyone from the titans, give my life if it comes to it…if there's a chance for a better future. I have to be as faithful as I can to that cause - as helpful as I can to humanity, or what was the point of all this? That's when I realised that I'd only be staying in Squad Clara for selfish reasons…once I figured that out I…"

She glanced towards her friend, whose eyes were watery and wide. Jules ran towards her and dragged her into a tight, tearful embrace;

"I'm gonna miss you so much dude."

"Me too." Petra sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut.

Jules gently let go of her, smirking, "At least now I won't get punished for your lateness."

"I dunno about that…" Petra uttered, wiping away a single tear, "Where are you meant to be right now?"

"Oh fuck!"

Petra guffawed as she watched her friend sprint towards her horse and vault onto it.

"See ya round Ral!"

Petra waved as Jules rode flat out into the distance, dark curly locks bouncing wildly about her. She couldn't suppress the dumb smile that graced her lips as she started shovelling.

Levi had been observing again in the morning, though with each passing soldier his patience waned. Anything that wasn't one hundred percent perfect wasn't good enough. Even in areas where the soldiers were completely surpassing Petra, sparring for example, he couldn't stop himself finding a million other tiny reasons why they were inadequate. Shoes tied in a weird way. Body odour. An insufferable laugh. Even he knew he was being ridiculous.

But none of them had the spark.

And he'd made them all stay well into their lunch break because he was trying to fit in the extra two squad observations today that he'd missed out the day before. He barely nodded to the squad leader before dismissing himself.

As he paced to his office, he unfurled the small list of names he'd made for potential replacements and studied it impatiently, willing a name to jump out at him as an obvious pick. Tch, it was beginning to feel like a waste of his time. He slammed the door to his office open and blazed through, glowering.

There, on the desk - the rolled up contract.

He stopped, eyeing it suspiciously for a moment, as though it were some kind of venomous snake, lying still in deathly wait for him. He huffed and clenched his jaw, striding over to it, plucking it sharply from the desk and unfurling it in one smooth motion.

Hastily he threw the first few pages aside, there was only one section he really needed to see. His eyes darted straight to the bottom of the page, and there, curling in black ink, was Petra's signature. Thank the walls, she'd seen some sense.

He struck a match and relished the burning of his list of replacements in an instant, waving the tail end of it to extinguish the flame, smoke circling victoriously to the ceiling. As he threw the ashen stub in the bin, he noticed another small note on his desk;

Captain,

I plan to devote myself to your squad in order to further the Scout's cause to the best of my ability. I will not let you down.

Petra Ral

His pent up energy abandoned him in a gruff sigh and he leant on the desk, eyes closed.

Good. Good. This was good. He wished she had just initially agreed in their meeting yesterday and saved him a headache, but better late than never. All they had to do now was complete the observation with Erwin, which he could confirm for tomorrow morning, then this whole pain in the ass would be over and done with before the weekend.

"Check-mate." Eld said to no-one, batting away the white king with a black pawn, "Looks like I win again."

The king landed on the floor with an extended rattling that somehow reinforced the emptiness of the room. He poured another small glass of red wine and sighed, getting up to put one of the remaining few logs in the dwindling fire.

"Hey - Eld?"

Oruo was stood in the corner of the room, scratching the back of his head. He looked nothing short of haggard.

"What's up Oruo?" Eld exhaled tiredly.

"The ceiling, clouds…some birds…" Oruo coughed, "Can I join you?"

Eld nearly dropped the log he was holding, "Uh - sure."

Whoah what? This week was getting more peculiar by the minute. And did Oruo just make…a joke? Eld looked suspiciously at the wine. He swore he'd only had one glass, but it was quite fancy (having been gifted to the squad a while back from some fancy noble), maybe it had gone off. Did wine go off?

He placed the log in the fire and it grumbled hungrily.

"Chess?"

Oruo shook his head, "Don't know the rules. I brought these though…" He held out an old pack of cards, "Blackjack?"

Eld grinned, "Sure." He'd take what he could get.

He went to the cupboard, brought out a second glass, and poured some wine for Oruo, who was shuffling the deck, and had put a couple of coins for betting on the table. Oruo dealt and they each checked their hands. Eld had a four and a five. Nice.

"You first Jinn."

"Hit me."

Jack of hearts.

"Ooh…" Eld took a sip of his wine, eyeing Oruo's face down cards. Oruo stuck with them. Eld had nineteen, so hitting again was risky. But if he lost to Oruo immediately he'd never live it down. He comically stroked his beard and raised a brow.

"Hit me."

Oruo looked deadly serious, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Eld narrowed his eyes, "Hit me."

Oruo slowly moved the top card over to Eld. Ace of spades.

"Heck yes! Twenty. Alright show me your cards."

Oruo stalled, before revealing his hand. He had eighteen. He pouted and grumbled something about Eld having some beginner's luck, to which Eld reminded him that you had to be a beginner at the game to have beginner's luck. They played several more games, the wins fairly evenly spread between them, though Eld was pulling ahead slightly. He'd also had to rather embarrassingly borrow a couple of coins off of Oruo for the very basic bets they were placing, having spent the remainder of his cash buying rounds the previous evening.

Eld was surprised; he was having a nice time, with Oruo of all people.

He poured out the final dregs of the bottle of wine. Man, they'd really finished the whole thing. He hoped the Captain and Gunther wouldn't mind, though he'd never actually seen the Captain drink anything that wasn't plain old water or some elaborately named tea.

"Uh…" Oruo began.

"Problem? Desperate to give me more of your money, that it?"

All of the lines seemed to deepen in Oruo's face, "When Petra joins the squad…" he mumbled, shuffling the deck once more, "Do you think Gunther will be too distracted? Will he…" he swallowed, "…put the rest of us in danger?"

Eld sat up in his chair. It was an odd question; certainly not something he imagined Oruo would be concerned about. Oruo, who was famously only interested in his own performance.

"He's an elite scout, so I'd hope not." Eld mused, "He has been a little 'head in the clouds' this week but…I mean he's only just met her. Not like he's in love with her or anything."

"Yeah…" Oruo muttered almost inaudibly. He dealt two more hands face down.

Eld checked his hand and scratched his chin, "I guess we'll only know after a couple of weeks training with her. Gunther's a good soldier though, I'm sure he'll figure it out. Out there its life or death, he knows that's bigger than some cute chick."

"Ah, so you think she's cute? Your move."

"Well…sure. She's not my type though. Hit me." Collecting the new card he threw down his hand instantly. "Rats. I bust."

"Hah! Fuck you Eld - you suck." Oruo stood up, flipping a coin and catching it in his hand before pocketing it.

"I'm still winning you blockhead."

"Whatever. We're outta wine anyway, without that I'm not sure how much I'd enjoy your company. I'm turning in." Oruo moved towards the door, stopping just before exiting, "Night."

"Er yeah - night."

Eld sat silently, staring at the remains of their unexpected evening together. Huh.

It was around nine in the evening and Petra was still washing pots. Her hands were red from the cold water; not long now. She had been left alone to finish up for the night…not that she minded, she'd heard enough idle babbling from the other kitchen workers that evening, and was basking in the relative quiet, soothed by the simple sounds of the splattering water as she scrubbed.

She lifted the final pot onto the side, unplugging the sink, which gurgled fervidly, as though it was as relieved to be done for the day as she was. Drying her raw hands she left the kitchen and yawned loudly. She walked through the mess hall, dark with the evening's emptiness and gloom, and almost jumped out of her skin to see Captain Levi sat by a single candle, alone with a pot of tea.

He looked up at her coolly; the room was huge, but with his presence and the lighting the way it was, it was like he was sat under a spotlight.

"It seems your previous squad leader wasn't too happy about your decision. One might think she'd make you work such a long day to keep you off your game tomorrow."

She mindlessly undid the cleaning apron she was wearing over her uniform and folded it, her eyes glued to him; curiously mesmerised.

He continued, "But I'd wager that it'd take more than a few long days and some disgusting kitchenware to keep a member of my squad from performing at their best, wouldn't you?"

It was amazing how still he could be. She walked slowly towards him, drawn towards the flickering light.

"Yes, Captain." She sat opposite him at the long table, placing the folded apron on her lap. The dark wood and the candlelight reminded her of being in his office yesterday, but this time she wasn't nervous. She wouldn't bite her lip, or pick at her hands. She was determined to hold his steely gaze. If her life was being overturned for this, she was going to face it head on. There was nothing to do now but be wholly committed to her decision and see it through as far as she could.

He poured a second cup of tea and pushed it towards her.

"If you don't mind my asking, sir, how would Clara know about this? - The offer to join your squad I mean." She inhaled the scent of the tea. Chamomile. A smile played at the edges of her lips. This was certainly fancier than the basic scouts tea-leaf rations; she wondered if it was from his personal supply. Also, chamomile tea was meant to help with sleep…something he surely knew.

He sipped his tea, holding his cup in that strange way she'd noticed in his office, "Who knows. People talk. My guess would be some blathering moron from the office. They wouldn't know discretion if it were their damn mother's name."

Petra snort-laughed and covered her mouth. The Captain merely looked at her, before taking another sip.

She pushed her hair behind her ear and returned her eyes to his, "Thank you, sir. For the tea."

He remained stock-still, and she wondered if he even needed to blink. She studied his expression in the dim light. She noticed the shadows under his light grey eyes, the slight crease of his brow, his fine chin. Yet, he was so youthful.

It might have just been exhaustion following her long day, but…was he kind of…beautiful?

She blinked a couple of times. That was a wildly inappropriate path to start going down. Get it together Ral. Honestly.

"Tomorrow we'll be on the first ODM run, then we're moving to the static training zone. The formation will be slightly re-jigged to function with just the four of you - I need to stay on the periphery. You should pay particular attention to where you can assist, and don't get distracted. That should be enough to impress old 'eyebrows'."

She glanced questioningly; "Eyebrows? Oh…do you mean the Commander?!" She had to bite her lip to stop from giggling again. She forced hot tea into her mouth. Get it together for god's sake. She absolutely needed to go to bed as soon as possible. Something had come over her and she just couldn't trust her own thoughts at present, they were a total liability.

Her drained cup clacked back onto the saucer and she stood and saluted to him, in an almost cheesy, over-eager way; "Good evening, Captain. With your permission, sir, I'd like to turn in for the night."

There was a pause, and then, "Knock yourself out."

For the entire walk back to her dorm her mind raced, it seemed the chamomile had done nothing to quiet her thinking. It had to be fatigue, that was it. Definitely fatigue drawing her thoughts into eccentric circles. Still, the Captain was managing to constantly take her by surprise. In every interaction they'd had, no matter how much she'd been able to mentally prepare for it, she was always left on the back foot, scrambling to make sense of everything.

It was most likely that she just needed to get used to him. She'd spent a while in Clara's squad and was accustomed to Clara's leadership. If she passed tomorrow, this new elite squad would have its own flavour and direction; which would obviously take some time to digest, and the Captain's methods would be a big part of that. She had to keep reminding herself of that; it had barely been a full day since she'd spoken to Eld in the pub, and made the concrete decision to say yes to the offer.

Was it possible that his showing up so late like this was his unusual method of encouragement?

And what he'd said about Clara…would Clara really put her on a full day's labour to exhaust her so she might fail an assessment with the Commander? Surely not.

Although…now that she thought about it…she had only been given fifteen minutes break…which would mean that had she not gone early in the morning to pick up the new contract, she wouldn't have had nearly enough time to collect it, read it, sign it and return it to the Captain by the afternoon. Oh screw.

She stopped outside her dorm room. Clara was a respectable leader, wasn't she? If she had tried to sabotage Petra's assessment with the Commander tomorrow…Petra didn't want to think about it, but she knew she couldn't return to Clara's squad if it were true. And she wasn't going to fail.

She took a deep breath, and pushed into her dorm room. She needed to get as much sleep as humanly possible.

Chapter 7: Trial

Chapter Text

Friday

It was a bright morning; the skies were clear and the sun shone cheerfully, providing a pleasant shard of warmth through the biting October cold.

Erwin strode out across the sparring grounds towards the first ODM run, tailed by Mike, Hange and Moblit. In the near distance, the Special Op's squad were lined up, fully equipped and ready to go.

He had to admit he was somewhat intrigued; since their first meeting on the Monday morning, the Captain had barely updated him on his progress at all, indeed the whole search for a candidate had had an air of distant chaos. Levi had only ever provided him with a single name, which could be considered a completely foolish move…or perhaps it was an inspired one.

Levi'd then left a short note on his desk stating that the squad would be ready for the leadership's observation on Friday morning, earlier than their original schedule.

He attempted to muster some level of hopefulness, but found that six months down the line, optimism was a slight struggle. Still, if Levi were as confident about this new set-up as he were dealing a deadly blow, then they would have no problems. One of the Captain's greatest strengths was his ability to quickly and accurately read people.

And, after all, Levi had never failed to execute one of Erwin's commands.

"Good morning." He surveyed the short line.

They saluted diligently, "Sir!"

Levi stood at the end of the line, arms crossed, and inclined his head "Erwin."

Erwin noted that Petra was certainly providing variety in this line-up. Perhaps that was exactly what this squad needed.

"I hope you are all adequately prepared for this trial. As in the past, I will be moving between the observation platforms, reviewing your course. Then, once the course is completed, the data will be briefly evaluated between the four of us," He gestured to Mike, Hange and Moblit, "before we do the same for the static training zone. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" Came the chorus.

"As a bell." Levi uttered.

"Very well then. I wish you the best of luck."

The first ODM run was set up slightly differently to the rest of the runs. It was built for assessment purposes: where cadets were examined for their ODM grades at the end of training, and new recruits were trialled for placement with their first squad.

Each observation platform was placed up in the trees in clear view of a dummy titan, or group of them, giving spectators a clearer vantage point for moves that couldn't always be seen from the ground.

Erwin nodded to his trio of assistants, who followed him up into the trees to the first platform. Once they'd landed, Mike fired a flare, signalling the start of the trial.

They hadn't been at the first platform longer than ten seconds when the first whirr of wires was heard. There was only one dummy titan here, but it was being operated by five scouts on the ground for optimum movement.

"Ooh this is gonna be good I can feel it. Can't you feel it?" Hange said, their eyes brimming with excitable hunger. They were tightly gripping and tugging on Moblit's arm.

"Ow, please - Section Commander, that hurts!" Moblit exclaimed. He was meant to be writing notes of everything that happened, but once again his superior officer was making things more than a little tricky.

Erwin silently held up a single hand to the pair, to which they instantly quieted. If Petra was "outstanding" enough to match Levi on the run, even a single blink could mean missing vital movements. He could do without being distracted by chatter.

Gunther whizzed into view, ducking under the dummy's arm and around its front. He was darting left and right, moving in and out of the danger zones to try and draw the wooden limbs his way. The next thing they knew, Eld arose behind from out of nowhere and struck the nape with a solid hit, taking out the dummy.

It was astounding. A glance up to the high branches revealed Oruo and Petra; their work had somehow gone completely unnoticed. It appeared that they had started near ground level and zipped up the dummy at lightning speed, slicing as they went, and the two arms clunked off of the dummy's sides seconds after the nape was cut.

All this and not a single word was voiced between the team. Fascinating. Erwin smiled; the Captain's strategies were getting stronger.

It was a solid formation, but it wouldn't work when the team came up against more than one enemy. Erwin glanced at Mike, who fired a green flare and the party of observers moved on to the next platform. As they landed Mike fired another, permitting the squad to continue on to the following section of the course.

Once again, mere moments at the new platform passed before the wires were heard. This time though, there were three dummies, and Erwin wasn't going to miss a movement.

All five squad members appeared simultaneously, the first sighting of Levi too. Eld and Gunther sped to the first dummy, Petra and Oruo took the second, while the Captain approached the third.

"Petra, bank left, get the arm." Oruo shouted, and she did as he asked, spiralling under the dummy's large hand and cutting it clean off, while Oruo narrowly evaded being hit on the opposite side.

Erwin noted the gracefulness to Petra's movement which somewhat reflected Levi's.

Meanwhile Eld had gotten himself caught down by the ground, unable to escape from the moving legs of the first dummy, and he was in danger of literally getting his wires crossed. He was calling up to Gunther, who was similarly struggling to evade its flailing arms.

Hange gasped, their eyes flitting from Eld to Gunther and back; "Oh - Oh!", while Moblit furiously scribbled notes.

Petra, having noticed the disturbance at the first dummy, dashed upwards, revolving midair and chopping the left arm from it, freeing Gunther, who descended and hacked off its leg, freeing Eld.

As the first dummy came crashing down to the floor, Petra returned to 'distract' the second dummy, allowing Oruo to get into an ideal position, from which he cut its nape.

All the while the Captain scrutinised from a high branch, having taken out his dummy a few seconds beforehand.

It was by no means a flawless operation, but the improvements from their previous assessments were tenfold. The squad had started to properly communicate with each other, rather than banking on guess work and one-upmanship. It was quite incredible the speed at which that had happened too; perhaps the Captain had taken Erwin's advice, and implemented some team-building exercises. He smiled, and indicated for them to continue through the course.

Each new dispatch continued similarly, the odd tangle and hiccup, which was quickly corrected by the team. There were even some moments of pure cohesion, where the team moved like a troop of acrobats, particularly the spinning figures of Levi and Petra. It was (as always) nothing short of thrilling to watch Levi, he was ever-magnetic in action, but Erwin noticed that he was similarly drawn to Petra; though not quite as fast, she moved artfully with elegance and precision. She was glowing, fully in her element.

He felt settled, it was finally looking like they would soon have a squad he could place at any point in his scouting formation, a squad he could trust to complete any task on an expedition. Excellent.

The meeting between the observers had been brief and unanimous, they wanted to continue on to the static training zone as quickly as possible. The squad had taken titan strides forward on the ODM run; if they continued in this direction, they would be formidable, and everyone seemed nothing short of passionate to see them in action again…except Mike, who as usual wasn't giving much away, he simply grunted.

The static training zone didn't disappoint either.

In this case each of the observers was positioned separately on platforms spread throughout the zone, and none of them would have to move around. Sixty-four targets were set across the area, twice a standard exercise; but seeing as this was supposedly the most elite squad, they needed to be tested at a higher level.

On Mike's flare, Levi divided the team evenly, with him and Eld taking the longest routes around the edges of the zone, and the remaining three split through the centre. They raced through like a five-person whirlwind, coming close to the record for fastest time, which was held by Mike's squad. Petra also clocked in the second most hits, taking out twelve targets, only behind Levi who took out twenty.

"Well Erwin, I'd say that was a successful morning wouldn't you?" Hange crowed, descending from the trees to the platform where the Commander stood contemplatively. Moblit and Mike had appeared from their platforms too to join them.

"Indeed. Things are looking up Hange." He placed a firm hand on their shoulder, watching the new and improved Special Operations Squad as they congregated back at the start of the zone, framed rather dramatically by the sun's forenoon rays.

"Moblit - did you write that down? Looks like our pal Petra has Erwin's approval - you know what that means!"

Moblit gulped, "Uh, do I Section Commander?"

"It means it won't be long until I can call on them to capture titans for me to research!" Hange squealed, practically jumping into the air.

Erwin intervened, "Hold your horses Hange. Let them get through their first expedition as a squad before you start recruiting them to assist you."

"Mm." Mike grunted.

It wasn't long until the whole group had reconvened in the field by the entrance to the zone. The Levi Squad stood to attention as the Commander addressed them;

"I'd like to personally thank you all for such an enlightening morning. Let me be the first to congratulate Petra Ral as the newest member of the Special Operations Squad."

Hange cheered, Mike sniffed and Moblit gave an awkward single clap, which caused him to drop his notepad. Though the squad were stood saluting, a ripple of delight ran through them, from Eld's wide grin to Oruo's smug smirk. Petra looked somewhere between cheerfully tearful and terrified. It was only Levi whose expression didn't change a single iota; he remained statuesque at the end of the line, completely unfazed by the revelation.

"Today was the first step towards your collective potential being fully realised, and I look forward to seeing what you will go on to achieve for the Survey Corps. Levi, drop the contract in my office to sign. At ease."

Petra Ral. He smiled. It seemed that one name was all Levi had to provide after all. Erwin liked it when a gamble paid off.

—

Captain Levi, the Commander and his entourage had only just started walking back towards the offices when Petra felt herself be hoisted into the air and thrown up and down. Through her tangle of flying hair she could make out Eld and Gunther below her, arms outstretched to catch and fling her up once again.

"Wheeeyy!" Eld yelled, and from her flailing skyward position she saw the Commander turn his head and chuckle.

"Hey! Put me down - put me down!" She howled, but they couldn't hear over Eld's loud chanting:

"For she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow - everyone together! For she - "

"ELD!"

They swiftly caught her and placed her back on her two feet and she wobbled slightly, lightheaded.

"Sorry - got a little carried away there." Eld muttered, ruffling her hair.

"Welcome to the team." Gunther patted her on the shoulder, smiling, and Eld gave Oruo a knowing look and elbow.

"Yeah - congrats." Oruo murmured, glaring at Eld and folding his arms.

She studied her brand new squad mates' (mostly) pleased expressions, and in a split-second, all of her anxiety dissipated. For the first time in three days, she felt fully at peace. It was going to be alright.

She beamed widely, "Thanks guys, this is actually kind of exciting."

"Hell yeah, high-five booster-seat!" Eld chirped, holding his hand up.

Great, she already had a new nickname. She half-heartedly high-fived him.

"So, I guess first thing's first - cleaning your new dorm room this afternoon before you move all your junk in this weekend." Eld announced.

"My - my new dorm room?"

Wait - she got her own room?! Why wasn't that written in giant red letters across the front page of the contract? She would have instantly signed it, no qualms.

"That enthusiasm of yours will die just as soon as you've had the Captain assess the cleanliness of your floor." Oruo butted in.

Gunther had a glazed look of distant fear, "And I'd recommend bleaching the walls if I were you."

"But, if the room is empty right now…isn't it clean already?"

"You'd think." Gunther grumbled.

"Right - uh - noted." Petra appeared as much as ever like a bewildered deer, "And where would this new room be?"

"In our elite barracks. Don't worry my dear, I'll show you." Oruo put a hand on her shoulder and began to guide her away, "These two chumps are off to the next town collecting supplies with the wagons this afternoon - I'll give you a tour, help you clean up…"

"Maybe we should swap Oruo, I doubt your giant head will even make it through the front door." Eld teased.

"At least I'm not wearing a ladies blouse." Oruo returned with a sly grin.

"This is a standard issue military shirt!"

"Uh - see you both later on maybe?" Petra called as they walked off.

"We'll probably see you tomorrow - we're scheduled to train new scout recruits." Gunther shouted back.

Oh, that was right, training cadets on Saturdays…she must have skim-read that part of the contract.

She felt a strange pang of gloom on being reminded of her suddenly altered schedule. At some point today she was going to have to let her old squad know she was officially leaving.

When she'd returned to her dorm the previous evening, Hannah and Jules were there, but the atmosphere was fraught. Hannah didn't acknowledge her properly, barely at all in fact, and, though Julia attempted some light-hearted conversation, they eventually ended up going to sleep almost zero words spoken between them. Then Petra'd had to leave at dawn again to make it to the Captain's briefing before the assessment, and since then everything had been such a wild ride she hadn't had a spare second to worry about any weird ex-squad tensions.

Darn. She really hoped Hannah would come around. It would really suck to leave her old squad on bad terms with anyone. Then there was Clara…

Well, there was nothing she could do about it at this exact moment. She decided to try and stop thinking about it until she directly needed to deal with it. She unquestionably deserved to feel pleased with herself right now and not be dragged down by such trivial things.

The morning's assessment had been exhilarating. The second they began flying through the trees as a squad her certainty in her decision had been hammered home; it turned out that a vote of confidence in your skill from Captain Levi was a godsend for your own personal conviction, and she felt she had performed to her best.

She was an elite soldier now; it was actually written down in ink, and signed by none other than the Commander himself. She'd have to find a moment to write to her father, he'd be so proud. Though maybe she'd omit the part about her job somehow getting more dangerous…at least in her first letter.

The pace at which the group of them had taken out dummy titans was thrilling, her heart thudded and that addictive surge of adrenaline rushed through her body for the entirety of the exercise. She was glad to have been mainly paired with Oruo as they already profoundly knew how each other operated, but had also found it remarkably easy to work with Gunther and Eld again. Plus they'd all had their moments assisting one another, even Oruo seemed focused on working as an equal part of the team; she knew that wasn't his strength.

But...the Captain.

It was truly a struggle not to watch him. His movements were utterly captivating; he was a spinning, deadly blur of precision and speed. Earlier in the week he had been incredibly fast, but now she had confirmation that he had been holding back then, of course he had. Every time she found herself starting to watch him, she'd had to reluctantly tear her eyes away; after all he'd specifically asked her not to get distracted (a rookie mistake anyway)…she just hadn't realised it was him that was going to distract her.

She didn't know why she was so surprised by it, he was famously the best in the regiment. It was in the goddamn papers how good he was. You don't get the title 'Humanity's Strongest' by being in any way average. Maybe it was that there just weren't the words to describe his talent, it had to be witnessed first hand.

And now he was her squad leader. A shiver of anticipation and excitement travelled up her spine.

The new quarters were situated within the western side of one of the the standard barracks buildings, not too far from the women's section where she'd stayed before. They had their own 'mini-wing' as it were.

Oruo was making a real song and dance of showing her around, over-explaining every little detail of every single room. She yawned…how could she tell him she wasn't interested in the esteemed doorknob designer who had lovingly carved every handle with a tiny knife? (Also no-way in hell was that true). Or that she was a hundred percent sure that she didn't need to know the thread count of his bedsheets…what would be useful to know was if / how the hot water functioned, for example.

She'd have to ask one of the other two guys later on.

"And this…." Oruo paused for effect before flinging open a cupboard, "Is the cleaning cupboard."

Oh dang.

It wasn't a large cupboard by any means, but it was brimming with perfectly aligned buckets, mops, cloths, dusters, sprays, sponges, brooms…and an amalgamation of cleaning products, some of which she'd never seen before, sporting words she wasn't even sure she could pronounce. On the inside of the two doors hung four aprons and eight white bandanas, marigold gloves poking out from each apron pocket.

"Ah yes…" Oruo tapped his lip in thought, "We'll have to get you a cleaning uniform. You can use Eld's for now - I'll go into town for that while you clean your room."

He threw a pile of fabric and gloves at her, and filled a bucket with various bits and bobs from the cupboard.

"This way to your glorious new chamber m'lady." He declared, swaggering down the corridor.

Petra rolled her eyes, bundling the cleaning apparel in her arms and following him down the short hallway to a door, one away from the end.

The room was modest, but it was hers. She took a breath, her eyes sparkling. A humble bed took up the majority of the space, but there was also a small desk, basic chest of drawers and fine white linen curtains, rippling in the light breeze from the open window.

"Jeez it's freezing in here…" She muttered, placing the bundle on the desk.

"I'd keep the window open while you clean if I were you. Don't want it smelling of bleach when you come to move your things in…though if you get too cold you would be very welcome to bunk in with me."

She threw a stray sponge at him, "Oruo! My god it's been about five minutes of being back on a squad with you and already I'm regretting agreeing to it."

He held up his hands, "All I'm saying is that the option is there. Wouldn't want you freezing to death in the night now, would we? I'm just looking out for you."

She made to pick up another sponge so he darted towards the exit, but then suddenly stopped and leant nonchalantly in the door frame.

"I'll be back in an hour or two, depending on how quickly I can find this exact get-up in such a minuscule size. Hmm…I should have asked the Captain where he got his."

"It's an apron, Oruo. I'm not sure they come in sizes."

"And don't forget to do under the desk…I've been caught out there before."

"Under the desk?" She gawked, realising he'd left.

She had never thought she was particularly bad at cleaning and tidying up, but she certainly wasn't passionate about it. You had to be passionate about it to have a cupboard like that; it looked like the entire shelf of cleaning products from the local shop. Now she thought of it, she wouldn't be surprised if it actually was the entire shelf of cleaning products from the local shop.

Did she have to wash the curtains? The room already looked remarkably clean, and she had no idea where to start. She sat down by the bucket and laid out the items one by one across the floor. What on earth were any of these things for? This was just like one of the conundrums she would do from the Sunday paper with her father, except instead of 'how many seconds are there in January' (one, January 2nd), it was 'what implement do you use to clean under a table, and why in living hell would one need to do such a thing in the first place?'

Giving up on solving that riddle almost immediately, she began randomly pouring different cleaning liquids into the bucket and mixing them around. Well, it smelled like bleach…and a tiny bit like lemons. She donned the gloves, cautiously took a rag and began working.

Levi stopped outside the Commander's heavy door, just as he had four days prior. It was unbelievable how quickly the week had gone by, and Levi was a man who knew speed. He had known he could trust his decision, and he'd caught the glint of approval in Erwin's eye.

If Erwin had been anyone else, Levi would be quietly enjoying success, and perhaps have taken him down a peg or two with a wry comment. But Erwin wasn't anyone else, and he seemed to skate above ever being wrong. Whatever high horse Levi got on, Erwin's was always higher; though he was never arrogant or complacent, he simply had a natural talent for being ahead of every curve, be it political, tactical or otherwise. It was one of the main reasons why Erwin was just about the only person that Levi trusted implicitly. If Erwin had said that Petra wasn't right for the squad, then she wouldn't have been right for the squad.

But she was right for the squad, and Erwin had seen it.

He pushed the door open to find the Commander sat at the desk, Hange leaning by it and Moblit hurriedly ordering his notes.

"Congratulations Levi! Your squad has come on leaps and bounds since the last time I saw them." Hange proclaimed cheerfully, "Not to mention you've collected the most adorable subordinate the scouts had to offer…was that deliberate?" Hange's glasses glinted in the light, concealing their mischievous eyes.

"What." Levi snapped, glaring at them.

The. Hell?

"S-Section Commander - don't you think that's a little inappropriate?" Moblit babbled, blushing a little.

"Please, I was talking about Eld." Hange winked at Levi as he continued to stare daggers.

Shitty four eyes.

"Hange." Erwin looked at them firmly, a note of warning in his voice.

"Tch." Levi walked towards the desk and placed the contract on it with some force, "Here. Let's get this over with."

The room fell quiet as the Commander scanned and signed the documents. Levi suddenly became aware of his elevated heart rate. Must be adrenaline from the evaluation.

Erwin dotted the final 'i' and crossed the final 't' and handed the rolled-up documents to Moblit.

"That's all settled then. Moblit, would you mind filing this along with your notes from the assessment?" He said, standing from his desk, and the once-again-laden-Moblit nodded and rushed from the room, "I think times like these call for some manner of celebration, don't you?"

Hange smiled and hopped away from the desk, heading for the door, "Ooh yeah, let's try the smokey one from that stuck-up Lord Balder."

They then left to fetch Mike, leaving Erwin and Levi alone in the office. There was a short, but comfortable silence as Erwin moved to the drinks cabinet.

"I must say Levi, I wasn't sure earlier this week when you came to me with Petra's file, but I was more than happy to be proven be wrong. I'm impressed." Erwin searched the shelves to find the decanter and four small glasses, which he placed on his desk.

Levi remained still, watching the Commander return to take out a bottle of whiskey, glimpse the label, then evenly pour a glass.

"That being said, we still need results. There's just over a month until the next expedition, and I'll most likely need you on the front lines, defending construction of the supply base and potential titan traps." He poured a second glass and handed it to Levi.

"We'll be ready by then." The shorter man said, taking the drink and looking into the glinting amber liquid. Nice colour.

Erwin searched him with his wily blue eyes, and a slow smile crept across his face, "Good. I'd expect nothing less. And Levi?"

The Captain looked up from his whiskey.

"Perhaps you could delegate some paperwork to your team now you have more hands on deck, it hasn't slipped my notice that you're behind."

Levi opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by babbling as Hange entered with Mike. Erwin passed out more whiskey and the four of them toasted to the improved Special Ops Squad.

They often ended up here together, drinking all manner of alcohol in Erwin's office following expeditions, or after securing significant funding. The most likely reason was that the sheer amount of paperwork they each had meant many late evenings with no-one else for company, and a peculiar kind of friendship had formed between them. It was almost a ritual now.

Levi's throat burned as he gulped down the fiery liquid. It had been a while since he'd had a drink at all…not that it ever really affected him. He was concerned for Hange though, who was known to get louder and more shameless when they'd had too much, and they'd already said more than enough. Even Erwin on the odd occasion became a bit red-faced and slurring, though it was only the afternoon, he likely wouldn't have more than one or he'd never get his work done. Mike managed to keep it together usually, but he barely spoke so there was always a chance he got quietly hammered and took himself off to his dorm before he did anything stupid.

Levi drained his glass, placing it back on the desk, "Hey Erwin, thanks for the whiskey. You can tell the noble who gave it to you that 601 or whenever was a good year."

"601?" Hange was stunned, "Levi, please tell me you know that the walls weren't even built then."

"No shit."

"Before you go Captain, I was going to propose a weekly observation of your squad, just until your first expedition together in a few weeks." Erwin suggested.

"Fine by me." Levi uttered, taking his leave.

He'd have a lot of paperwork and planning to start this weekend, but his squad wouldn't need his assistance to sort out Petra moving into their barracks, they were competent enough for that. He had to start trusting them more, especially after their much improved performance today, and especially if he wanted them to unwaveringly trust him. That was step two of his squad improvement plan.

Hopefully by Monday he would have finished revising their usual drill exercises to include Petra, and they could start working on different formations and coordination.

He made a mental note that he planned to drill her hard sparring too, she couldn't be allowed to continue in an elite squad with such feeble skills in that area; no, he would get her adept enough that she could punch Eld in the jaw. Hm. Always good to have a solid goal to work towards.

He picked up an apple from the mess hall and made his way to his office.

Petra slumped on the couch in the small common room area. She was beat. When she'd left her new dorm room, everything sparkled. Even the cracks between the floorboards were shining. She was a little scared to go back in there in case she somehow dirtied the walls or floor by looking at them the wrong way or something; the guys had put the fear of god into about the Captain's standards. But she needed a little break, and her curtains still had to dry on the rack before she could hang them back up. She was taking no chances with this cleaning thing, no way was she about to fuck something up on day one of being on her new squad.

There was a timid knock at the front door and she lifted her head slightly. Oruo? He should probably be back around now, but he definitely wouldn't need to knock.

She made her way to the front door and opened it to reveal a familiar freckled scout stood awkwardly in the hall.

"James?"

"Oh Petra - Hi!" He grinned, a little shamefaced.

Bullseye. It seemed her match-making arrow of love had hit bang on the money. Pride bloomed in her heart.

"I gave Gunther your note the other day."

"Yes - yeah thank you for doing that." He paused, shuffling his feet a little, "Uh, is he around at all?"

She couldn't force back her canny smile, "He's actually on a re-supply mission right now…but I can give him a message if you want?"

"Um sure - I guess if you could just tell him I dropped by that would be…" He cleared his throat, continuing in a deeper tone than before, "That would be grand."

His eyed widened and his cheeks flushed a little, and Petra bit back a giggle. She didn't want to make him feel more embarrassed, he was probably already beating himself up.

"Don't worry, I'll tell him." She beamed.

"Thanks Petra, I'll see you round. Oh but please don't tell him I said the word 'grand.' You're a star!" He clapped a hand to his forehead muttering "a star?" quietly to himself before walking off down the hall.

"Yeah - see you!"

God it must be exhausting pretending to be cool when you were head over heels. She watched him turn the corner, smiling and shaking her head. Well that was unbelievably sweet. Her day kept getting better and better-

"Gentlemen callers already eh?" Oruo said smugly, carrying a large brown paper bag down the hall, "You know, you have to fill out a request form and get it approved by the Captain if you want any friends over, if you know what I mean."

Brilliant, this oaf was back.

"Oruo, I think even your head-lice know what you mean."

Oruo dropped the bag, his face white, "Lice?! What the hell Petra I don't-"

"Yap yap yap, did you get me an apron or not?"

It was quite something the speed at which they had reverted back to their old ways, as though they hadn't spent months apart barely speaking at all.

"That white bandana around your head makes you look like an old fishwife." Oruo grumbled, picking up the bag and strutting past her into their quarters, "And for your information the Captain would never allow someone with lice on his elite squad."

Petra rolled her eyes at him for what felt like the hundredth time today and shut the door behind them.

Chapter 8: The New and Improved Special Operations Squad

Chapter Text

It was late by the time Eld and Gunther returned from their supply trip. They were sat quietly in the small common room, Gunther reading a book titled "The Wayward Mage's Revenge" and Eld writing a letter home, accompanied only by the spitting and crackling of the little fire.

Eld's arms were aching from carrying heavy barrels and wooden dummy parts (for assembly) all afternoon. He'd complained extensively on the way back to Gunther to try and get any kind of response out of the guy, but Gunther once again barely said anything, despite the fact that Eld knew his arms must be just as sore.

Even so, Gunther had made the odd decision to read in the common room. He hadn't done that for a long time, preferring to take himself off to his own dorm…so that was something. Though they were sat in near total silence, Eld meditated on how nice it was to have another presence with him in the room as he wrote his letter. He'd been meaning to write home for a while, and just hadn't gotten round to it, and he desperately wanted to hear news from his family.

"Eld, tomorrow you're going into town to get cleaning attire for Petra. You can fill out a reimbursement form."

Once again the Captain had crept up on them like an irritable evening ghost; a ghost that was unusually obsessed with order, discipline and making sure forms were (neatly!) filled out in triplicate for some reason. The glow of the fire enhanced the shadows around his face, making him seem even more drained than usual.

"Captain? Right I - well the thing is…" Eld put down his pen and looked directly at his squad leader, who remained stony as ever, "Do we have some kind of squad pot, or fund for these things? I'm a little low on-"

"What, did you spend all your money on hair clips again?"

Eld gaped and Gunther momentarily looked up from his book, repressing a grin. The Captain moved into the kitchenette, likely to boil water for tea, and continued;

"Then go to Erwin's office with a request form. It'll take you longer so you can take the time out of your lunch break tomorrow."

Eld cursed under his breath and picked his pen back up. A few moments of stillness with the quiet bubbling of boiling water passed before Oruo marched in, overloaded with firewood. He stopped abruptly when he realised not one, not two but all three of his male squad mates were in the room. He stared at them for a moment; it seemed he was trying to remember the last time they'd all been in one place when it wasn't mandatory.

"Is it someone's birthday?" He asked somewhat tentatively, placing the firewood in its usual corner spot.

"No." Eld breathed. Wait…it could be. He had no way of knowing. He brushed the thought off, "We were just discussing getting Petra an apron and gloves and stuff."

"Oh no need. I already sorted that out this afternoon."

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him.

Oruo's hand returned to the back of his head once again; his one constant gesture that revealed that he wasn't quite as confident as he put across, "Don't believe me? Go ahead and check the cupboard."

The Captain looked at Eld, who sighed, loudly grating his chair along the floor and then leaving for the hall to check. There, on the inside of the left hand cupboard door, hanging neatly beside the others, was a new apron set. Well. It seemed the team's new changes had gone beyond training. He returned to the common room and gave a faintly baffled nod, before sitting back in his chair.

The Captain stared at Oruo inexpressively, steam from his fresh cup of tea gently curling up past his shadowed face. Several seconds passed. Oruo was fighting withering under the indecipherable gaze and he had stilled completely; he looked a little lost, not to mention his arm had to have been aching from being held up in that position.

Finally the Captain spoke, "Good work. Fill out a reimbursement form."

Then he swiftly exited. No-one moved, but the air was lighter, as though the room itself had taken a breath in.

Eld picked up his pen again, "You know Oruo, the amount you scratch your head like that you should consider getting checked for lice."

Oruo paled, "What did Petra say to you? I don't - oh whatever." He spluttered before quitting the room.

"Congratulations!"

"Incredible! Gonna miss ya."

"That's amazing - well done!"

"Wow, great news, awesome."

Petra was struggling to breathe, being crushed within the sheer force of her ex-squad-mates group hug.

She had been apprehensive about telling them officially that she was leaving, but their joint reaction had been overwhelmingly positive and she was brimming with equal parts proud elation for her promotion and heartbroken sorrow that she wouldn't get to see them everyday.

When they broke apart, she fought back tears, and a tankard of ale was forcefully thrust into her hand. Faces and colours were swirling and time seemed to be moving at record pace as she chatted to them all. She would still have make time to spend with them, she was going to hold herself to that.

"Hey, dude?" Jules appeared behind her, ushering her away from the main group, "I think you should come outside for a second."

Petra merely blinked as she was led out to one of the scrappy picnic tables outside the tavern, the cold air jolting her out of her tipsy daze. Hannah was sat alone at one of the tables, a glass of wine in front of her. She was bundled in a heavy winter coat and thick dark blue scarf, a favourite of hers. Her eyes moved slowly up to the two women in front of her, and she looked a little worn.

"Hey short-stuff." She sounded almost mournful.

Petra pressed her lips together and stared at her. She'd kept her promise to herself for the afternoon and tried not to think about this moment, which in theory had been great, but now in practice meant she had absolutely no idea how to respond. She hadn't yet properly sorted through her countless thoughts or feelings about leaving.

A few moments passed.

"Hey Hannah."

Jules nudged her forward, "Petra, sit down. You guys need to talk this the fuck out because I ain't playing middleman. Screw that."

"It's cool." Hannah said pulling at the end of her scarf, "This won't take long."

Petra tentatively sat, still cycling through her emotions. Her mind was spinning like a roulette wheel, and her response at this point would be just as predictable, i.e. not at all.

"Petra, I can't pretend I'm not mad at you. I really am." Hannah sipped her wine, "But I also don't wanna not see you or hang out like this. You're like…important to me or whatever. So…I guess…" She smiled timidly, "I guess congratulations are in order."

Reluctant congratulations?

Petra sat for a while, watching the flickering lights from through the steamed up tavern window as they moved across the table. So Hannah was mad. Petra was kinda mad too. Didn't she deserve her friend's unfaltering support whatever she chose to do?

"Petra?" Hannah urged, half hiding her face behind her drink, as though she was suddenly doubting her reconciliation approach.

Still, in many ways, Hannah was just showing how much Petra meant to her by being mad in the first place. She was mad because she wouldn't get to see her friend every day. The anger was coming from a nice place really, if a little misguided. She took several gulps of beer just as time ticked into uncomfortably quiet territory for the second time.

"You're…important to me too." She said eventually, "Or whatever." and faintly smiled back. In their line of work, it was a complete a waste of time to stay upset with each other for no real reason.

Hannah's face melted into a wide grin, "I'll cheers to that."

"Thank the fucking walls." Jules exclaimed in a breath of relief, sliding onto the bench next to Petra as they clinked their drinks.

"So, are we all good now?" Petra asked.

"Yeah. Yeah we're good. Oh but!" Hannah's eyes widened with terrifying excitement, reminding Petra somewhat of Hange, "You owe me! You owe me one dare!"

"What?! No I-"

"Hell yeah baby! I believe someone had to muck out the stables as punishment - am I right? Of course I am. Consider this moment as me cashing it in."

"No - you said one week of stables duty-"

Jules put an arm around her, "Oh honey, you gotta read the fine print. You'd better believe you owe us a dare, and a truth if I remember right."

"Oh god."

There was a pause. Perhaps a petty dare was the least she could do if she was leaving them for another squad.

Petra gave them a perturbed look, "…Fine. What the hell do you want from me."

Hannah cackled deliciously, "This is gonna be fun. I dare you…" She leant in close and her dark eyes drilled intensely into Petra's, "To challenge Captain Levi to an arm wrestle."

Petra's mouth fell open and Julia gasped with glee. Hannah held up her hand;

"Conditions! He has to accept it - you can't just say you asked him and he said no. It has to be in the mess hall when we're all there to watch the event…so either lunch or dinner. You don't have to win, though that would earn you bonus points, but you do have to do it by the end of your first week on his squad."

"Bonus points?! So I theoretically beat Humanity's Strongest soldier in a battle of strength, and you're gonna give me bonus points?! What the hell am I meant to do with those? What, are they more valuable than money?!"

Julia and Hannah were wheezing from laughing.

"Guys! I'm serious! I don't think I can pull that off…I've never seen him eat in the mess hall even one time, let alone-"

"Part of the challenge short-stack. If you manage it though, I'll owe you a dare in return, how about that?"

"Damn it Hannah, couldn't you just have asked me to do an interpretive dance or eat a moth or something?"

Julia slapped her thigh, howling, "Eat a moth!"

Hannah looked at her slyly, "Would you rather I get you to kiss Oruo with tongue?"

Petra choked on her beer.

How was Hannah coming up with these at such speed? It was honestly a talent. It was like she'd raided Petra's brain and found the most uncomfortable things to ask of her.

"I worry for anyone who kisses him with tongue, it just gives him the opportunity to bite theirs."

Hannah guffawed, "Damn! Well baby girl looks like you only have one option then. Arm. Wrestle."

She high-fived Jules.

"Ohhh." Petra covered her face with her hands.

How on god's-green-triple-walled section of the earth was she going to pull this one off?

"Wait - what happens if I don't manage it?"

"You mean other than the feelings of shame and all consuming failure? You can clean and oil my gear for a month."

Oh shoot. More cleaning.

Hannah held out a hand to her, "Shake on it."

Petra looked at the outstretched hand disdainfully, before necking her beer and taking it in her own, binding the ridiculous verbal contract.

"And…?" Petra looked at Jules with some worry, "Didn't you have a truth to ask?"

A smile sneaked over Jules's face, "Sure. But you'll have to wait for that one."

Uh-oh.

Petra sighed as Julia clapped her on the back. She looked up at her grinning friends and found that couldn't suppress her idiotic smile. She was going to miss this. Those dumb boys better be worth it.

Hold on.

"Does Clara know about the transfer?" She asked suddenly.

Her friends glanced at one another. The background hubbub seemed to be getting gradually louder.

"No idea." Julia said, "I'm sure someone in the office will have had to let her know."

Hannah nodded in agreement.

"Hm." Petra gazed down into her drink.

In an instant, they were disturbed by cheering and chanting, and encircled by their squad mates drunkenly yelling. They had exited the tavern and roughly surrounded the picnic table, wrapping the three in inexhaustibly bubbling positive energy and raising their tankards; yammering incoherently.

"GOLDILOCKS!" Someone shouted, and three dumped their full tankards of beer onto the sitting women, drenching them.

"WAH!" Hannah shrieked,

"Those aren't the rules!" Julia squealed, ringing out her shirt.

Petra looked out from under her dripping fringe, and found that all she could do was laugh.

The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Monday

It was officially the first week of the new set-up, and Eld was feeling remarkably upbeat.

The weekend had passed by in a blur, and he found that he hadn't much seen Petra or any of his other squad mates at all. They'd been stationed separately for training cadets on the Saturday, and he'd taken the Sunday to exercise standby horses with Anna, then gone into town to send his letter. By the time he'd returned Petra had already moved all her stuff in, and it seemed everyone had taken off to their individual dorms, as though nothing had changed at all.

But then, this morning, Petra was up and in the kitchenette-common area before him or anyone else, smiling and humming to herself. The coffee pot was sitting on a small flame and she turned and looked at him brightly,

"How do you take your coffee?"

Eld could only blink, momentarily dumbstruck.

"Ah - er - just black is fine." He said, still quietly astonished.

"Well that's good, I like milk in mine and the rations we get are pathetic." She giggled, pouring two cups out.

It was the perfect brew: smooth, not too bitter and with a gentle aroma. Thank the fucking lord, six months of morning drink-making hell finally over.

"Petra," Eld proclaimed, "Thank you."

He almost felt the need to bow to her.

When Gunther entered he said very little, but was clearly stunned and impressed, draining his cup of coffee at speed and immediately going over to inspect the pot, undoubtedly trying to work out how Petra had managed to make it work.

Oruo remarked that he had known how the coffee pot worked the whole time and just hadn't told anyone, because they hadn't bothered to ask, to which Eld struggled not to clout him over the head, opting instead to ask him why he 'hadn't ever made it for them before then' instead of incessantly complaining that Eld's coffee was trash.

In no time at all the four of them were on their way to the track once again for circuits. Petra looked pale, and Eld was trying (with limited success) to cheer her up with reassuring looks, and by poking fun at Oruo, something she seemed to enjoy nearly as much as Eld himself.

The Captain was already there when they arrived, not unusual for him. It was common knowledge between the squad that he barely slept, something Eld had informed Petra of in the morning.

Once again, Petra fell behind in the laps, and in the subsequent exercises, but continued to quietly persevere anyway. And this time she didn't have a nosebleed.

The Captain reprimanded her during the group plank; "Petra, keep your ass flat, you're not doing the damn downward dog." And she steeled herself, correcting her posture. Eld smirked, wondering where the Captain had picked up yoga terminology. After a further two minutes she collapsed to the floor and they all looked to her with a snap.

"Up." The Captain said simply, and she shakily picked herself back up into position. "What are you morons looking at? Focus on yourselves."

Eld wondered what training was like in her old squad, how her ex-squad leader had spoken to her. He gave her an encouraging nod when she caught his eye, which seemed to motivate her, as for the remainder of the morning she looked marginally less like she was about to fall over.

After lunch, they made their way to the little gym on the northern edge of the grounds. It was ideal for smaller units to practice sparring, and contained a new piece of training equipment that Hange's squad had recently been working on; a kind of giant spring board so soldiers could practice air-strikes without needing their gear.

A small pile of long, thin bamboo sticks lay on the floor.

"First things first," The Captain picked up a pair of sticks and whipped them around in a circle so quickly that the air whistled a little;

"Pick up a pair of these and follow me."

The team shared some baffled glances, but did as he said and followed him to the large springboard where he stood at the base, looking back at them over his shoulder.

"Watch." He said simply, before walking away from the spring board, sprinting back towards it and jumping, flying through the air with the sticks. His lithe body fully revolved at least three times, though at the speed he was moving it was difficult to count exactly, and he brought the sticks down hard and together with a clack onto the middle of a sizeable wooden block situated some metres away.

Eld swallowed. That didn't look easy. The Captain looked back towards them with his regular disinterested expression.

"It's important that you hit right here," He tapped the middle of the block with a stick, "Focus on precision. The momentum of the spins will help you hit harder, but it'll also make it more difficult to be accurate, so concentrate on where you're hitting. Once you clowns get the hang of it, we can move onto using blades. Anyone not using the board is sparring with sticks. We'll cycle round until the break."

"Yes sir!" They chanted.

The Captain called Oruo up to the spring board, and the remaining three of them moved into the middle of the room and stood equidistant apart, sticks in hand, ready to spar.

There was that look of fierce determination on Petra's face again, her eyes sparking. The corner of Eld's mouth twitched, he had an idea.

"Begin." He declared.

He hurtled towards Gunther, "Petra, go behind!" He called out as his and Gunther's sticks crossed and clashed together, shaking with the pressure of them each pushing against the other with equivalent force.

In a smooth swoop Petra's sticks sailed over and either side of Gunther's chest from behind him as she jumped onto his back, locking the tops of his arms back against his sides. At her pulling Gunther's upper arms back, Eld walked forward, maintaining pressure on his crossed sticks.

"What the hell - a team up?" Gunther growled, his eyes boring into Eld's as the three of them were rigid for a moment in their new position.

"Think on your feet Schultz." Came Eld's reply.

It was a testament to Gunther's brute strength that he was still managing to hold Eld off with only his forearms from his semi-pinned position, though his jaw was clenched and it was clearly taking all of his effort. Gunther was probably the strongest of them all in terms of muscle mass, but, Eld mused, he could stand to rely on it less. Also, perhaps there was a part of Gunther that might enjoy Petra clinging to him like this…

He'd been right that Petra would immediately understand his command. She was truly a team player. He smirked, rapidly removing his crossed sticks and smacking them down together on Gunther's left calf, causing him to lose his balance.

Eld jumped back as Gunther fell sideways to the floor, Petra just about managing to spring off him before he hit the ground and slumped onto his back, and she quickly moved her left stick under his chin.

"I said think on your feet." Eld mocked, relaxing his stance and crossing his sticks back behind his neck.

Gunther looked furious as he batted Petra's stick away from his face.

"I didn't realise we were playing dirty." He grumbled, picking himself up.

"I guess life isn't clean." Petra smiled, her internal fire flaring; she must have been proud not to lose her first ever sparring match as part of a new squad.

"Unless the Captain has anything to do with it." Eld mused.

Petra tittered, then placed an apologetic hand on Gunther's shoulder, "Sorry Gunther, I was just following orders."

Gunther wordlessly shrugged and went to pick up his sticks. He knew when he'd been bested.

"Ready for round two?" Eld queried, and the other two nodded, moving back into equidistant positions.

—

"Petra, you're up." Levi brusquely commanded, gesturing to the board behind him with his thumb.

She was the last one of the squad to try out the spring board, which he'd deliberately arranged, suspecting she might find the movement the easiest.

The exercise was already going more smoothly than he'd imagined, and each of the men had shown a steady improvement in their air strikes. Good; that meant soon they could move onto using blades, and after that it wouldn't be long until they could practice without him surveying them.

She approached the end of the board with scorching resolve.

"Need me to demonstrate it again?" He asked gruffly.

"No sir."

She didn't look at him. Her body was still, poised, and her eyes focused on the block of wood target as though she were calculating something. Interesting. He could see that she was considering every inch of her strike, visualising it. None of the others had done that.

"Are you waiting for it to spontaneously combust?" His tone was flat, "I haven't got all day."

She nodded resolutely, "Right."

She walked away from the board and stopped. Just as he was about to chide her again for stalling, she turned and sprinted at full pelt towards it, springing high into the air and spinning, one, two, three times before landing on her feet faultlessly. The accuracy of her hit was slightly off centre and the strike wasn't as powerful as it could be, but it was a remarkable first try. She straightened up, frowning and went to walk back to the base of the board.

"Stop." Levi said firmly.

Petra froze and looked towards him with a hint of panic, before realising that he'd turned towards the three sparring men.

Oruo was kicking, lying on his back on top of Gunther, who had him in a choke hold. Eld was dodging his kicks, and trying to hit Oruo's legs with his bamboo sticks. In an instant, they all ceased and looked towards Levi, who was once again frozen in place, arms folded.

"Why couldn't any of you boneheads do it like that? She's making you look like damn rookies. Get your sorry asses over here and watch how it's done." He turned back to her, "Again."

She hesitated a little as though she wasn't sure she'd heard right, but on catching his hard stare, immediately collected herself and returned to the board, flipping through the motions fluently once again.

Levi almost felt like smiling. Not quite though.

The common room was as cold as it was empty. Petra took a moment just staring at it, cheerless in semi-darkness, lit only by a single wall torch. Hardly the ideal place to sit and do her crossword. No; it was her first week. She would make an effort with her new squad mates, even if none of them joined her, at least she could say she'd tried. Anyway, she'd enjoy relaxing on the old couch by herself, resting her once again throbbing limbs that were not used to their increased workload. She knew it would be a while until they were.

She made her way to the sink, filling up the small yellow vase she'd brought from her old dorm room and placing the dainty blue wildflowers in it that she'd picked on her way back. There, a little more lively.

Lighting the second wall torch she moved to the fireplace, crouching in front of it and searching for anything, old newspaper or twigs to place around the unburned logs which had already been set.

Ever since she'd had a moment to herself she'd been replaying the Captain's words;

"She's making you look like damn rookies."

Everyone enjoyed hearing praise now and again, but it was clear that the Captain's was rarely awarded (if ever), and therefore much more worth earning. That was surely why she was so affected by it, and couldn't seem to stop smiling while the sentence looped around and around and around.

The rest of the squad had been astounded by it after the session; which she tried not to be too offended by…it did seem that they acknowledged her skill but were shocked that their Captain'd inferred anyone might be good at their job who wasn't Erwin.

Though, she'd added at the time, it was less direct praise of her than it was a brutal take-down of them.

All in all, it had been a good day. There was a lot to learn from every single member of her new squad and she realised that for a long time, she'd been sailing by, not really being properly challenged unless she was beyond the wall. This new schedule would only make her better, and therefore increase her chances of survival on expeditions.

She lit the end of an old piece of newspaper and placed it in the fire, praying that it was enough to catch. She suspected it might not be, and stood, glowering at the fireplace, willing it to catch with her eyes. A figure crossed into her periphery and she saw Eld standing in the doorway.

"Flowers eh? Nice." He said, before raiding the cupboards in the kitchenette.

"Hi Eld." Her words came out even more exhaustedly than she was expecting, and she nearly laughed at herself from surprise.

"Sounds like you are in need of some dusty old wine." He brought a prehistoric-looking bottle out of the cupboard, along with a corkscrew and pair of wine glasses, "And perhaps a game of 'Hungry Hungry Titans?'" He raised his eyebrows.

She smirked, "Why not. Though I'm not trying any of that ancient looking wine until you've done a taste test."

There was a popping as he removed the cork, "Ah, looks like it's time to put my sommelier certification to good use."

"You're a trained sommelier?"

He shook his head, grinning, "Petra, if you want to survive on this squad, you're gonna need to become a lot less gullible."

Dang, she really needed to stop falling for Eld's shit. Wait. Eld. The fire flickered to life.

"Eld!" She looked at him with wonder, her eyes sparkling.

Alarmed at her sudden change of energy, he hesitantly handed her a glass of wine, "…yeah?"

"I need your help."

"I just told you I'm not actually a sommelier." He sipped his wine and sat at the table, swilling it around the glass dramatically, "Hmm a rich, intense flavour of alcohol, combined with the fruity, mellow notes of old grapes. Five out of ten, I've had better."

Petra quirked a brow, and came to join him at the table, "I thought you said you weren't a sommelier?"

He chuckled, "I guess anyone who drinks it can critique it. Really though, what do you need my help with? You're already the Captain's favourite after a single day's training, I should be asking you for pointers."

"Hah - hardly."

His favourite? Oh god. The blood was uncontrollably rushing to her cheeks, she really hoped it wasn't visible. That wasn't - no - that wasn't what his praise meant. Besides Captain Levi didn't have favourites. He barely had expressions. Her thought process had been thoroughly derailed, far too derailed for such an offhand comment. Focus Ral! All of this was beyond the point and nothing to do with what she needed to ask.

Ok. She collected herself and took a deep breath in.

Asking Eld was a good idea, surely. She couldn't do it on her own, he was the right person to ask. He was the only person to ask really.

"Right. So. Oh god this sounds so stupid now I'm saying it out loud." She cleared her throat, "an arm wrestle. I have to arm wrestle Captain Levi."

Eld blinked in shock, "What? That's a weird addition to the contract - none of us had to do that."

"No!" She spluttered, "I - my old squad, my friends on my old squad dared me. And - uh - you seem like the type of guy who appreciates the sanctity of truth or dare."

"You're not wrong there."

"Right. So, I have until the end of this week to arm wrestle him in the mess hall where they can watch it."

This was the stupidest thing. Why did she agree to it again? Eld had to think she was a complete idiot. A dumb, childish game and she'd gone along with it gleefully. Or at least, she hadn't protested nearly enough. Maybe she should have just tongued Oruo, it would have been easier to achieve. And probably less awkward.

Eld hadn't said anything for a while. His brow was furrowed and he was stroking his chin and looking into the fire.

"Be honest." She swallowed, "Is it even going to be possible? He's so cagey…and I don't think I've ever seen him in the mess hall. The thing is, if I can't do it I'll have to clean and oil Hannah's gear for a month on top of all the other new stuff I have-"

"You're right. It won't be easy. The Captain is averse to any fun or games, and he eats in his office."

Petra's head fell into her hand, "Damn…"

"That said, I think I might be able to get him to the mess hall at lunch time on Friday."

Petra slowly looked up from her hands, eyes wide, "What, really?"

"Yeah." He took a large sip and looked at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "But my help isn't free."

Chapter 9: Hot Pot

Chapter Text

The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Wednesday

It absolutely was not possible for someone's body to ache this much. It was unreasonable, unfair and definitely not normal. She'd have to go to the doctor just to make sure she didn't have some kind of underlying illness causing these stabbing pains in all her muscles: 'Pathetic-weak-bitch-itis' or something. She didn't know how many more days in a row she could get up feeling like she'd been trampled by a thousand horses the day beforehand, and she half expected to see a hospital ward around her when she'd woken up this morning.

Perhaps she was being a little dramatic.

Still, it was a shame that this exhaustion was causing her to struggle to get up early enough to make everyone coffee, something she really wanted to continue doing for the squad. She'd only just managed to get in there today before anyone else, and she was sure she could hear someone stirring down the hall.

Petra loved making other people happy, and the way her squad mates had reacted to their coffee mornings the past two days she knew she was heading in the right direction. Though, she'd yet to see the Captain at them, which she felt a little down about.

He was a part of the squad too, it would be nice if he joined them. Maybe he felt awkward joining them as their superior officer. Maybe he thought they should spend their down time together without him. The thought made her heart sink. She had never liked the idea of someone being lonely while others enjoyed company. Though, if it were true that that he was only seen when he wanted to be, as she'd thought before, then maybe he just didn't want to spend time with them.

She hoped she was wrong about that.

It had only been three days, there was still time for him to show up.

She'd also noticed the past couple of days, that none of the squad were used to spending time together outside of working hours. They were never together at lunch; Eld went off to sit with Anna's squad, Gunther had been sitting with James, and she hadn't yet seen Oruo in the mess hall at all, he had been taking himself off to god knows where as soon as they were dismissed from drills.

If she were being honest though, she couldn't judge any of them, she'd still been spending a lot of her own free time with her ex-squad mates. She'd even spent Tuesday evening with them in her old dorm room; it just felt easier to moan about her aches and pains to them; her new squad would (quite rightly) have no sympathy and just tell her to suck it up. Plus Jules gave amazing shoulder massages.

The coffee pot began to bubble, steam and sputter so she took it off the heat. It sure was nice to have a mini-kitchen and common room, not to mention her own private dorm room. She could make dinner for everyone - maybe that would be a nice thing to do, and it might force them to socialise…she had to go into town later for Eld anyway, she could get ingredients then.

"Morning." Gunther's low voice rumbled from behind her.

"Oh Gunther! Good morning." She busied herself pouring out his coffee. Black, just like Eld's, nice and easy to remember.

"Thanks." He murmured as she brought it to the table where he'd sat, paper in front of him, though he was staring out of the window.

She returned to the kitchenette, to pour her own drink, stirring in a drop of milk and washing the spoon in the sink immediately. She'd learned quickly that you didn't leave anything lying about in these living quarters, especially anything that had been used for any kind of purpose, and yes it was that vague an instruction. There was something cute about the diligence of it all.

"Gunther, what would you say to me making the squad dinner here tonight?" She asked lightly.

"Hm?" He turned to face her, it seemed he'd been in somewhat of a daze looking out through the morning light, "Why not. Can you cook?"

She laughed and answered dryly, "Nope, I've never so much as chopped an onion - you don't mind if I practice on you guys though right? A bit of food poisoning never killed anyone."

He merely blinked at her, and she was completely unsure if he'd read her tone.

"I'm kidding. I cooked a bit at home for my parents. I could do a hot pot or something? It's good for a cold day."

Gunther smiled slightly, "Anything's better than the garbage they serve at the mess hall. A change of menu would be nice."

She beamed, "Great! I'll go pick up ingredients after the run this afternoon."

Petra moved to lean on the kitchen counter, following Gunther's gaze which had returned to the window. She had an inkling of what he might be thinking about.

"How was your evening yesterday?"

She'd asked it cautiously, as they both knew he'd spent it with James.

This was playing a bit of a dangerous game, and it could go either way. She didn't want to pry too much…but she was extremely curious, particularly after having spoken to James several times since their first mess-hall chat, and seeing as she'd acted as a messenger for them both on more than one occasion.

She was a good, trustworthy messenger. She'd never read their love-notes. But, she considered, her trustworthiness could be repaid…

He glanced back at her, his hard features easing slightly, then his eyes moved down to the floor, a slight pink hue painting his cheeks. Her heart melted instantly seeing such a serious, strong guy react to her question so tenderly. She was his squad mate and he could trust her; she was trying to communicate it with her eyes, though he wasn't looking.

Ultimately they all had to trust each other if they wanted their unit to survive beyond the walls.

He clearly wasn't ready to share with her yet. It was foolish to ask, they'd only been squad mates for two full days. She could always ask again when they returned from their first expedition.

She put her coffee down on the counter, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything-"

"No." He mumbled gruffly, downing his coffee, "No, it's fine. Thank you for asking. My evening was…" He looked back towards her sincerely, "Wonderful."

On catching the dancing joy in his normally hard gaze she could have cried with happiness, in fact, she was certain that she would have, if Oruo hadn't bowled into the room at that exact moment.

"Pfft. Eld is still in the shower. He definitely heard me going towards the bathroom and then ran in out of spite. The little bitch."

Petra silently handed him a coffee, eyebrows raised. He took it without so much as a thank you and flopped onto the sofa moodily.

"I'm sure he'll be out soon, there's no need to be so crabby about it." She said, washing her finished cup in the sink.

"You would say that Petra, you've only been on the squad two days. I've had six months of his bullshit."

"If you're looking for sympathy from me, you aren't going to get it."

She'd forgotten how much of a man-child he could be sometimes.

"Did you know it's the Night of the Wraiths tomorrow?" Gunther said suddenly, holding up the paper and looking directly at her, "When you go in to town later Petra, would you mind picking up a gourd?"

She smiled; it was strangely sweet that Gunther followed that old tradition, "Sure."

"What are you, four? Shall I pick up a costume for you as well?" Oruo barked from the couch, "Then we can all hold hands and prance about in a circle. What do you think Captain Levi will say when-"

"Shut up Oruo! I think it's a nice tradition." Petra smiled at Gunther who looked appreciative, "Why don't you do something useful for a change and help Gunther carve the gourd later while I make us hot pot."

"Alright mother."

Ugh.

Gunther abruptly stood from his chair and smacked Oruo on the head with the rolled up paper, before walking out of the room, curtly nodding to Petra as he left.

"Ow - shit." Oruo groaned, rubbing his head.

Petra grinned.

It was lightly drizzling, the bright sky of the morning had since been overthrown by a mass of grey clouds.

Eld steeled himself, the afternoon run was proving difficult. They were under orders not to say a word unless it was absolutely unavoidable.

Not only that, but they were essentially flying blind, the Captain had instructed them to complete the run staggered, and he hadn't given them a formation. There was logic to it, the team would be forced to pay attention to one another and not rely on any kind of pre-formed plan, which was actually what usually happened beyond the wall. Formations were good for practice, but he found that they'd used them less than thirty percent of the time in combat on expeditions. You just never knew where you'd find yourself.

Through the speeding tree trunks, two titan dummies appeared. A three metre and a four metre. He turned all the way around, flying backwards towards the targets, but he couldn't spot a single member of the team. Crud.

If he had to take them alone, then he had to take them alone. He turned back. The four metre was being operated more erratically, and was therefore the bigger threat at this point in time. He slowed down and began moving around the periphery of the wooden dummies. This was going to need some planning; diving in without assessing the situation at all almost certainly led to death (in the field anyway), especially if you were outnumbered like this.

He cruised around them, a silently as possible, before catching the glint of some wires on the opposite side of the two puppets. Petra. Sweet. She caught his eye, and he pointed at her and held up three fingers. They both nodded in mutual understanding; she would get the three-metre, he would get the four-metre.

A final nod confirmed their action and they both dove towards the dummies at speed. The drizzle splattered his face as he rushed towards the nape. The cool droplets were actually quite refreshing, though they were making gripping the gear a little slippery.

As he fast approached, readying his blades, he heard a whooshing, and from the corner of his eye a blurred shape raced into view. Fuck - fuck. His heart was in his mouth as he instantly stopped, flipping in the air and blasting himself back towards the upper branches. What the hell was that?

Oruo. Of fucking course. The idiot had pelted in, not looking around at all and gone straight for the nape. If Eld weren't under strict orders to be silent unless it was an emergency, he would have screamed at him. He'd just had to waste so much gas to halt his attack at the last second, not to mention if he hadn't stopped Oruo might have lost his head; which was ironic, as now Eld felt like he might lose his own. The fucking gall of that idiot.

A quick scan of the space showed Petra had taken out her dummy. At least something had gone to plan.

He had to try and calm down. It did no good beyond the wall to lose your cool at a fellow soldier, even if they were the biggest jackass in the universe. He glared at Oruo, who glanced up at him with nonchalance.

He snorted angrily and loudly, sure that Oruo heard it, then continued onwards through the trees on the tail of Petra who'd gone on ahead.

Heavy rain would mean stopping and waiting it out in the higher branches or supply shacks, but this rain was light enough that they still had to continue the exercise. That didn't stop it from bringing down visibility though. Man, he hated drizzle. From her position in front, Petra looked back and held up her hand, indicating a single target coming up. Eld motioned leftwards with his head, instructing her to go around, and once again she nodded in understanding, taking herself off in that direction as the eight-metre puppet appeared in the near distance.

He couldn't believe he'd ever been concerned about her as a prospective member. The Captain had been so right about her. Even after she'd been struggling her way through the morning drills on the verge of collapse, she was still easily the most reliable member of the team out on the run. Before she joined it was like they were trying to bake a cake without any sugar.

Once again he slowed his pace, glancing behind at Oruo with a look of warning, then pointed out to the right, hoping Oruo would catch his drift, which, thank the walls he did, apathetically taking himself out to the other side of the target.

Ok. He took a breath in. Just as he was about to instruct the pair of them however, the Captain blazed past him from behind, diving under the dummy's arm. Holy balls; that was an odd choice. Hadn't he seen the positions of his team?

The Captain went to cycle back around over the top, towards the nape, but as he did so, there was a harsh sort-of squealing noise and he juddered to a halt, dangling and swaying slightly right above the dummy titan's head. He hung in the air silently, his face down and his wet hair plastered to his cheeks, completely covering his eyes.

He was out of gas. And he wasn't moving.

The titan puppet was moving though, and Eld realised that they had about five seconds to do something. Fuck it, he'd have to shout;

"Oruo, Petra, arms!"

They did as he requested, though both of them had a slight look of panic about them. He stalled in place until they'd just managed to hack off the wooden arms before accelerating towards the Captain and yanking him out of his rag-doll position.

He'd had to move so quickly that he'd grabbed the Captain in an awkward half grip, and it certainly wasn't helping that Levi did nothing, choosing to remain a dead weight in Eld's slipping arms. God damn he was a lot heavier than he looked. Did it really have to be raining right now? This wasn't even real rain. Fucking pointless half-rain.

"Eld!" Gunther shouted, speeding through the trees and they locked eyes. Good timing. Gunther was in a better position to take the Captain; he could probably get a better grip on carrying him from the angle he was at.

Eld nodded at him and slowly loosened his grip on his cargo (otherwise known as his boss) as Gunther came up from below, effortlessly taking the still-silent and limp Captain in his arms, bridal style.

"Regroup in the higher branches." Eld called out.

"No." The Captain didn't move, or even open his eyes. The four members of the squad stopped frozen, hanging in the air with varying expressions of shock.

"Finish the course." He said simply.

"Like this?!" Gunther queried, looking down to the man in his arms but receiving no response.

Rats. Of course it was a test! No way would the Captain have been so reckless otherwise, the sly bastard.

Eld cleared his throat, "You heard him. Let's finish the course. We'll take turns carrying the Captain until we reach the end platform."

It certainly wasn't easy navigating the remainder of the course with one dead weight, though (he joked to himself) they should have been used to it with Oruo on the team. Occasionally they'd have to stop on a wide branch and pass Captain Levi over to the next member of the squad. Whoever was with him had to hang back and make their way as high up as they could while the team took out targets, and they could only progress down the route once each section had been completely declared safe. It was a ball-ache.

Eld also made sure that Petra wasn't ever carrying the Captain, his own judgement call. He hoped he wouldn't get criticised for it, but, having carried the man himself, it just didn't seem that feasible that she'd make it very far holding him. Part of solid leadership was in delegating the skills of each member…brute strength was not Petra's skill.

Though difficult and annoying, he had to admit this exercise was a smart move; the team were being forced to communicate and rely on one another in a way that was a lot more immediate than usual, they didn't have the Captain to fall back on, and nearly every three-person-combination of the squad had the opportunity to work as a group on dispatch. They were getting more of a feel for each members' strengths.

In time, they reached the end platform, just as the drizzling stopped and the sun began to set. Only they could be so lucky that it rained the whole afternoon until the second they finished their training. It had been a slow run, much longer than any normal zip through the trees, and every member of the team was soaking almost as much from sweat as from the pathetic rain.

Oruo went to put the Captain down, hesitating ever so slightly as no-one was quite sure when this dead-weight act was going to end. Fortunately, the Captain put his feet on the ground and stood, taking a step away from them and smoothing the creases from his cape.

He surveyed his drenched, exhausted squad.

"What's wrong? Was it not as fun as usual?" He remarked dryly.

The four of them were stood in a shaky line, feeling sorry for themselves.

"I'm only going to tell you this once, so listen up. When we run the courses for the next two weeks, at least one of you will be low on gas, and I'm not going to tell you who."

Oh boy.

"Be prepared. And after that performance, you'd better hope that none of you die outside the walls, because your bodies will not make it back home. All of you go take a shower, you stink like shit. Dismissed."

The evening air was chilly, and Petra was struggling, her arms piled up with with three paper bags of various shopping. Training was just so intense and a part of her was kicking herself that she'd agreed to cook this evening too. And she still hadn't had a shower. She'd sleep well tonight at the very least.

It was probably in her head, but it seemed that everyone she'd encountered in town was looking at her regretfully, like they felt bad for her. She must have looked like a real sad-sack. Or maybe they could just smell her.

She approached the main doors to the barracks building. So close. She knew she made a good hot-pot even if she did say so herself; Gunther was right, it would be nice to have something for dinner that had actually been seasoned.

As she walked towards the doors, they opened as if by magic, revealing Clara.

On seeing Petra, she stopped dead. For a second the two women just stared at one another.

"S-Squad leader. Hi." Petra eventually mustered.

Well this was awkward. And not exactly how she'd planned to see to Clara for the first time after leaving the squad. Thoughts began whirling. Clara might have tried to sabotage her transfer. She'd put Petra on a full day's chores on her last ever day with her squad.

Stop it.

It was a waste of time to stay upset with someone when you worked as scouts. It just was. Besides, it was within Clara's jurisdiction to punish her however she saw fit, and other than that the only thing she knew Clara had done was take the squad out on the town without her…which hurt a little, but was ultimately fine, Petra was leaving anyway.

"Petra." Clara said shortly, before swiftly passing by her and not giving her another look.

"Wait, Clara - uh - sir." Petra span around, nearly dropping one of her bags.

Clara stopped, but didn't look back.

"I - I…um."

"What do you want Ral? Some of us have work to do."

Petra looked at her feet, and pursed her lips. She could do this. She would make peace.

"I just wanted to say thank you. I learned a lot from you when you were my squad leader, and I'm glad we got to work together when we did."

There was a pause.

"Get your tongue out of my ass Ral."

Petra could feel the heat rising in her face. Clara turned and looked her directly in the eye.

"And if you were going to apologise for leaving the squad, don't bother. I don't need to hear it."

"I wasn't-"

"It's funny, I never had you pegged as the selfish type, but I suppose anyone's ego can be buttered-up by the higher-ups."

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. Fuck this.

Her voice grew louder, "That's hardly fair, sir. You-"

"My duty as a squad leader is to protect my soldiers. You have made my job exponentially harder. Did you think you could just up and leave over the period of two days and it wouldn't affect anything?"

Petra was stressfully fumbling with her bags, but her eyes remained glued to Clara, "It wasn't my choice to-"

"I wanted to extend your transfer period, at least until we could find someone to replace you in our squad, but the Commander denied my request. As I see it, I won't be able to prevent the deaths that come about from my squad being underprepared on the next expedition. I'm stuck with the mess you've left behind. And now you want me to stand here and congratulate you on your promotion? To fondly reminisce about old times with you? You're a selfish child, Petra."

With that Clara forcibly strode off leaving her dumbstruck.

Holy fucking lord above.

She was shaking again, but this time it wasn't because her muscles were tired.

Fuck. Fuck.

Get it together Ral!

Fuck. Fucking shitting - even her mantra wasn't working. She turned and stumbled through the doors to the barracks, swiftly dropping all three bags onto the floor. Her eyes burned with tears but she schooled them, scrambling across the ground to pick up various leeks and swedes that had rolled out of them. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fully repacked, she burdened herself with the bags once more, and began stumbling towards their quarters.

That was…she had no words. Her thoughts weren't arriving coherently, or even in sentence form. And the worst thing about it, was that somewhere, swirling amid the various curses and put-downs her brain was directing at Clara, she knew that it was true. Petra hadn't really considered what she was leaving behind, not practically. She'd worried about missing her friends, about her friends missing her…but she'd never considered that her leaving might make their jobs more difficult…more dangerous.

Fuck she was so fucking selfish.

Her eyes brimmed as she walked into their barracks and into the kitchenette, where she dumped the bags onto the counter.

"What is up booster-se…Petra?" Eld, seeing something was wrong, came scurrying over to her, "Hey, are you alright?"

Her eyes were already filling with tears, and his concern tipped them over the edge and down her cheeks. Motherfucker. She really didn't want to cry. She put her hands over her face and took some deep breaths.

"P-Petra?" It was Oruo's voice she heard now.

Great. Just great. What smart comment would he have for her this time? "Don't cry Ma!" Or "What's wrong? Did you catch your reflection in the mirror?" Or something equally stupid.

After a few moments, a warm hand was placed on her shoulder. Following a few more deep breaths, and when she was sure she wouldn't cry more, she slowly took her hands away from her face.

Her three squad mates were practically huddled around her, looking down at her with fierce worry.

"I'm, uh, gonna make us some tea." Oruo remarked awkwardly, before removing himself from the small cluster, and busying himself around them with pots, cups and water. They each watched him for a moment, it seemed they were all surprised by it.

"Petra, what happened?" Eld asked gently, and Gunther lightly squeezed her shoulder.

She sniffed, "Nothing - really. I'm just being…" She took another long breath in, "I ran into my previous squad leader."

"Oh."

"Yeah…I guess I hadn't thought about what I was leaving behind."

"Do you regret joining us?" Gunther's frown was quite pronounced.

"What? No, of course I don't - I didn't mean that. I only wanted to tell her thank you - that I appreciated her being my squad leader…but she was so angry with me." She shook her head, "And she has every right to be. I left them high and dry - I didn't even think about how this might affect them." She sniffed, "She said she wasn't sure she'd have time to prepare them for the next expedition…that she was worried they'd die."

Oruo dropped a cup and it shattered.

"What?" Gunther looked raging.

Eld was similarly furious, "That is so fucked up. Petra, she's a squad leader. It's her job to deal with shit like that. Fuck me."

"But it's true, I didn't think about-" She sniffled.

"No, man - put those puppy dog eyes away, she doesn't deserve them."

"Has she never had to deal with a transfer before? Squads change." Gunther growled.

Petra was retreating inwards, she spoke quietly.

"What if it happens though? And they…die because they weren't used to the changes? Because I left them too quickly…"

"Petra, look at me." Eld put his hand on her other shoulder, and the two men leant in slightly, trying to drag her out of her spiral and back into the room, "Anyone who dies beyond the wall, dies because of titans. Titans. Nothing you say or do has any effect on whether or not a titan will try to eat someone. You cannot control that. Believe me, Section Commander Hange has tried."

"Life's hard enough as it is without taking the blame for things you have no power over." Gunther agreed.

She blinked and gazed up at them, the traces of tears shining in her honey-brown eyes.

Eld continued, "Don't beat yourself up. You made the decision that was right for you, that's the best you can do in this hell-hole."

"Right. The Captain is always telling us that there's no point in regretting the choices we made because no-one knows how things will turn out in the end." Gunther said firmly.

She stared at them both for a moment in grateful wonder. They were being so…kind. Her guilt about her ex-squad remained thrashing in the pit of her stomach, but it had been significantly eroded and largely replaced with a feeling of warmth and safety; that what they were saying was right, and, perhaps more importantly, they wanted her to be ok. She never would have thought it had only been a week since she first met them at the athletics track that foggy morning. Her opinion of them had already changed exponentially since then.

"Thank you."

Eld gave her a pat on the arm, "Now go and shower - quickly - before the Captain gets back. And don't worry."

She nodded and rushed out the door.

"Wait no-" Oruo moaned, "I just finished making tea…"

Levi stopped outside the front door to their quarters and wrinkled his nose. Was he losing his mind, or did it smell like…onions? He looked at the door suspiciously. Should he be concerned?

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he walked into the common room.

The whole room had a kind of golden glow: the fire was blazing in the hearth, Petra was stood by some large pots in the kitchenette, stirring and throwing in pinches of god knows what, Eld and Oruo were peeling a variety of potatoes and carrots at the counter, and Gunther was sat at the table with a knife and a large…very strangely shaped vegetable. It was a regular carnival.

"The hell's going on here." He said bluntly, and they all looked up.

Petra beamed, "Oh, Captain, Hi! We're making hot-pot for dinner."

He stared at her a moment. The whole kitchen scene was like some fucked-up portrait of domestic bliss, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to leave. His legs carried him against his will to sit opposite Gunther at the table.

Were those…flowers…on the countertop?

"Hey - get your own carrot! Or better yet, go and help Gunther carve the gourd, that was your main job anyway." Eld snapped.

"GOURD CARVING ISN'T A TWO MAN JOB." Oruo shouted back.

"Actually," Petra turned to the pair with a knowing look, wooden spoon held up sassily, "I bought one for you too - check the bag. I figured if any evil spirits came searching for vengeance, you'd be the first one they'd visit."

Eld cackled, "High-five half-pint!"

Eld and Petra high-fived, and Oruo took the bag from the counter, grumbling something under his breath, and came to sit at the table by Levi and Gunther.

Levi wondered at what point he'd moved into a hippie commune. Titans didn't scare him, but his own squad was starting to, and they would be his only company beyond the walls.

"Don't look so down Captain, you can help me carve my gourd if you want." Oruo muttered, removing another strangely shaped vegetable from the bag he had, "I think you'll enjoy it, it's mostly stabbing."

Apparently he'd now decided that gourd carving could be a two man job.

"So. What is all this shit?" Levi asked gesturing vaguely at the tabletop.

"Do you know about the Night of the Wraiths Captain?" Gunther ventured, and when Levi looked at him blankly, continued, "It's once a year in autumn. Like a festival of spirits. The story goes that bad, vengeful spirits arise at dusk and enter through the windows to terrorise those who wronged them. But if you carve three rings on a gourd, each ring representing one of the three walls, and place it in your window, then the spirits don't bother you."

Levi blinked, "And this happens tonight."

"No, it's tomorrow sir, we're just getting our gourds ready."

He leant back in his seat, resting an arm along the back of the adjacent chair, "You all believe in this bullcrap?"

Petra giggled, "It's more that it's a fun tradition sir."

"And sometimes we pull pranks on each other and blame it on the wraiths." Eld added, eyes gleaming impishly.

Wait a minute. Was that was Erwin was doing last year when he was dressed up in that stupid 'ghost' outfit and said he was going to pay Nile a visit?

Or what Hange was doing when they replaced all Moblit's tea leaves with regular leaves?

That second one was just cruel.

Levi began to wonder if humanity was really worth saving.

Oruo was sticking his tongue out in concentration, attempting to carve a line in his gourd but making a right mess of it, "It's funny that you haven't come across it before Captain."

"Hilarious." Levi deadpanned.

He pondered if the Night of the Wraiths had anything to do with when the underground folk were sometimes granted permits to walk the streets above ground.

He stood from his chair, and began walking for the door.

"Captain…aren't you joining us for dinner?"

He stopped and looked Petra in her big stupid doe eyes. What, did she think having big cute eyes would make people do whatever she wanted? Tch.

"Not hungry."

"Oh."

Her face fell and his stomach dropped.

"Well, if you change your mind sir."

Shit, did he actually feel bad about this?

He realised he'd been stood staring at her blankly, like a brainless fucking moron.

He walked out without another word.

Chapter 10: The Night of the Wraiths

Chapter Text

The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Thursday

'The Night of the Wraiths'

For the whole morning Petra had wanted to slap herself in the face. For some unknown goddamn reason, all of the men in the squad had turned up to sparring practice in the little gym today wearing tight black vest tops. Petra herself wasn't wearing a vest top, but she was invested…in her own way.

There was almost a dramatic unveiling as they each removed their scouts jackets, and stood in a line, like a gallery of famous topless statues. They weren't topless - but they might as well have been, not much was left to the imagination there.

Was 'vest day' on the schedule? Or was it a group 'Night of the Wraiths' costume attempt? If so…what in the hell were they meant to be - some kind of sexy gang? Did she not get the memo?

The worst thing about it was just how shredded they all were. She wasn't attracted to any of them normally, of course, but she'd be damned if she wasn't peeking a little. Or a lot.

Dang. There was a lot of bicep.

The scout's regular uniform meant that apart from general build and height, you couldn't really tell much about anyone's physique, which was a good thing, or military horniness would be through the roof.

She should be happy for this golden opportunity to practice good focus, though if there had been an assessment in that area, at least based on today's work, she would be bottom of the class. And thriving.

Then there was the fact that the Captain, once again for an extremely unknown reason, had said that during Thursday mornings' hand to hand combat, she would be working solely with him.

Ok the reason wasn't actually unknown, he'd said it was because she "sucked ass" at sparring (she was in no position to argue), and therefore she needed to be fast-tracked.

"Petra, do you want to be kicked over?"

He stared at her with his regular bored expression.

"…was that a rhetorical question sir?"

None of his features changed, but she could tell he had gotten even more apathetic.

"Always keep your legs slightly bent." He lightly tapped the backs of her knees with his foot and they bent a little, "That keeps your leg muscles active. If your muscles are active, they can be engaged."

"Traditional fighting stance, sir."

"So you do know what it is. Then why the hell don't you use it half the time?"

Petra's face pressed into a frown and she looked at the floor, "Uh…"

"That was a rhetorical question."

She grimaced. She couldn't tell what was more humiliating, the fact that he'd been relentlessly toppling her to the ground for the best part of the morning, or his snide remarks between each bout. It didn't help of course that on occasion she'd catch the light bounce perfectly across the outline of his abs in the tight vest. So small yet so ripped. Everything about this man had to be seen to be believed. She was yet to land a single hit on him, which she wasn't surprised by, but she also wasn't mentally prepared to feel so crappy about it either.

"Again." He ordered, and they resumed their stance.

Petra rushed in with a right jab, but he was much faster. He brought his left arm up on the inside of her arm, parrying her right hook and grabbed her left arm with his other hand, yanking her towards him so they were face to face, their noses almost touching, where he held her for a split second before kneeing her in the stomach and pushing her to the ground.

Oof. She was coughing and had to resist the urge to spit. She'd definitely been winded that time. She remained on all fours a while, trying to suck air back into her body.

"Up." He commanded, rewrapping the sparring bandage round one of his hands.

At this point, it almost felt like he wasn't trying to teach her at all. That he was just showing off. She drew air in and tried to calm her mind. Her biggest strengths were speed and evasiveness. Maybe if instead of trying to land hits on him, she dodged him a while and then tried to find an opening that way…maybe…

It would almost certainly prove ineffective, but she was running out of things to try.

"Petra, get up."

"Yes Captain." She dragged herself to her feet.

"Again."

This time she waited for him to make the first move. Knees bent. They circled each other.

"Hm." He breathed, seemingly realising that she wasn't going to move first and she caught his eye, goading him, which, in retrospect, may not have been a sensible thing to do.

He dashed at her, his right leg coming up fast towards her left leg, but she'd had just enough warning and jumped over it. His kick had put his back to her, which she used to her advantage to pull an arm around his neck. Oh lord he was strong. In a heartbeat, he'd somehow loosened her grip on his neck, spinning back towards her and forcefully flipping her forwards over his shoulder and letting her go. She landed in a kind of crouch, wobbling on her feet. Yes! At least she hadn't fallen the hell over. She shakily stood.

Her tiny victory was all but snatched away as he instantly appeared behind her and twisted both her arms behind her back.

"Ow fffuck."

He released her, giving her a slight push forward to put some distance back between them. She shook her arms out. If he'd twisted them any further she was sure something would have popped.

It was kind of terrifying to learn just how easy it was for him to break things.

"Again."

The morning ebbed into midday, and she still hadn't so much as grazed him. Once again she was entirely unsure if anything she was doing was any good. Her evasive techniques did help in that when she focused on dodging she tended to last more than three seconds into the bout, but as soon as she lost any visual of him, it was over.

By the end of the morning's work Petra was a haggard and sweaty mess, but the Captain remained pristine, not a hair out of place.

"Alright, we're done for now." He said finally, turning to the room, "All of you, at ease."

Eld caught her eye and motioned with his head and she made her way over to the trio.

"Like something you see, Petra?" Oruo said smarmily, flexing an arm and lunging.

"You wish asshole." She retorted, earning some chuckles from Eld and Gunther.

"Pfft. I'll have you know that these guns have normal women falling over each other."

"Yeah, as they try to run away from you."

"Damn!" Eld laughed, removing his wrist wraps.

Oruo angrily huffed.

"How was sparring with the Captain?" Gunther asked.

Petra gave a cocky smile, "I mean…would you believe me if I told you I won every bout?"

The three men practically fell about laughing.

"I'll take that as a no then."

"Did you win any?" He prodded.

"God no. Of course I didn't! He's like a damn shadow - but, if the shadow was-"

"Was what?" The Captain had appeared behind her, because of course he had.

"Uhh…" She faltered, searching the eyes of all her squad mates, begging them for help. They were naturally trying (and in some cases failing: Eld) to stifle their amusement. Oruo's 'karma's a bitch' expression was particularly irritating.

"Was what Petra."

"…was very very fast - on wheels or something. I was just saying you're wheely good at sparring Captain." Her eyes widened, "I mean really good! Oh - oh my…"

Sweet lord.

She threw her hands over her face. Why? Somebody throw a sack over her and drag her away.

The Captain's eyebrows twitched up a touch, "No, keep going. You're on a roll."

Getting shot in the face would have been less painful than this.

Eld was just openly laughing now, and the other two weren't doing much better.

The Captain turned to leave, "Go and get lunch. Gunther I'll see you at half past for your performance review."

He exited the gym, the void left by his presence immediately filled with noisy guffawing.

"Keep all flammables away from Petra's face guys, she's burning up." Eld quipped.

Gunther approached her with a sympathetic pat, "See you in the afternoon, Red." Before throwing on his jacket and leaving.

Oruo sneered, "Serves you right. Maybe next time you'll think twice before insulting my sweet guns."

Petra didn't know it was possible to roll her eyes as far back as she just had.

"Oruo," Eld interjected with a sly grin, "Have you got my winnings?"

Oruo grunted and fetched his jacket, pulling a few coins out and pouring them into Eld's hand.

"Cheers." Eld continued, not taking his eyes off of Oruo, "Hey, Petra, I got that cash I owe ya." He winked and handed her the money Oruo had just given him.

Oruo scowled.

"Hey - uh - where are you off to for lunch?" She needed to ask him, but was also genuinely interested, having never seen him around at all; he was such a loudmouth that it was strange he hadn't blabbed to any of them about his ventures.

"Wouldn't you like to know. I'd love to share, of course, except that it's none of your damn business."

With that he swaggered out the door, leaving a baffled Petra and Eld behind.

"Right." Eld started, "Well. I guess we're good as long as he doesn't spend the whole lunch break in his room."

"Yeah. Has he never told you guys where he goes?"

"No, though I'm pretty sure none of us have ever asked him."

They gathered their jackets and exited the gym.

Eld met Anna in the Library and she handed him the note, which he read over a few times.

"It's…I mean…wow. You've done a great job, it's perfect." He uttered, turning the paper over in his hands a few times, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Anna tapped her nose, "Trick of the trade buddy."

Man she was cute. And talented. He'd be willing to bet that any scout (except maybe the Commander) would think this note was actually written by the Captain. The immaculate lettering was identical.

The Captain had spent a serious amount of time teaching himself to write properly since he'd joined the military; he hadn't received any kind of formal education in his youth at all, but he more than made up for it with the work he'd put in copying out letters since his promotion. The result being that his writing was flawless, it looked like newspaper print; a perfect reflection of his need for, well, perfection.

Eld shook his head in disbelief at the forgery he now held, "How can I thank you?"

Anna gave a sassy smile, "There's always rounds at the pub."

He quirked an eyebrow, "You sure that's all you want? I mean I owe you. Don't know if you've heard, but that's kind of a big deal." He leant across the table she was sat at to write, resting his chin in his hand, and looking directly at her, "Do you like pie?"

Anna flushed slightly but her face fell, "Oh…Eld," she couldn't bring herself to look at him, "I'm flattered and all, I really am." She swallowed, "but…uh. It's just - there's someone I…and I mean I really appreciate your friendship…" Her light chestnut eyes flicked back towards him remorsefully.

Damn, did he just strike out?

Bummer.

He removed himself from the table and coughed, "Uh, no, I mean, that's cool. Not everyone likes pie I guess…" He laughed awkwardly, "A round at the pub it is."

"I'm sorry that uh-"

"What? No. No man, you don't have to be sorry, it's - it's honestly fine." He held his hand up, "Forgery-five?"

She smiled widely and genuinely, hitting his hand, "forgery-five."

Well, nuts. You can't win them all.

It wasn't long before he was waiting by a corner in a corridor in the main office building. He was sure this was the right place, but he had to get the timing right. A few minutes passed and the expected sounds of frantic shuffling were getting louder and louder.

Almost…

Almost…

And…

He turned the corner, smacking straight into Moblit, who yelped, flinging his multiple stacks of reports high into the air and they fluttered delicately around the two men in a gentle snowfall of documents.

"Argh dammit! So sorry I didn't see you there. Here, let me help you with those."

"E-Eld? - Thank you."

They hurriedly busied themselves collecting up the paper chaos.

"How's the band going? Still playing all those…instruments?"

Moblit looked up from his frenzied gathering, "Huh? Yeah lots of…instrument playing…It's going well, we're hoping one day soon we can play at the tavern. Though the Section Commander is being a maniac about it. They keep saying they want to test the effects of music on titans…"

"Hange? Didn't know they played."

"As far as I know they don't, they just have a keen interest in absolutely everything."

"Oh, man." Eld chuckled, "The next thing you know we'll be singing lullabies to the titans and tip-toeing past them to the supply bases."

Moblit stopped and looked at Eld with true fear in his eyes, "Do me a favour and never say anything like that around Hange."

Eld picked up the final sheet of paper, which just so happened to be a certain note from 'Captain Levi', and handed it to him, and they both stood up.

"You got it." Eld nodded as the sandy haired scout rushed off, "Moblit - make sure you take a break today!"

Ok, that part had gone to plan; he could tick it off his list. There was nothing he could do now but pray that worked out. Now, just one final stop to make before the lunch break was over.

"ELD!"

It was nearly impossible to tell apart the three voices that screamed it.

Petra was panicked and her heart was hammering. This wasn't part of the plan! Maybe this is just what they all got for leaving their bedroom doors unlocked but…

She slammed out of her dorm room to see both Gunther and Oruo had done exactly the same. It was quite late; they had only just returned from the afternoon's drilling horseback formations, and now they were all stood staring at one another in dumb shock in the corridor.

"He got you guys too?" Oruo cried out, grabbing and pulling at his hair, "He reversed my entire room!"

Wait, he what? That wasn't what he'd told Petra he was-

"And that's not all!" Oruo pulled a scrunched up letter from his pocket, "He left a comb for lice on my desk along with this stupid letter:

'Dear Oruo,

We don't want to live in your greasy-ass hair anymore. Here is a comb you can use. Please kill us.

Kind regards,

Your Head-lice.'

Petra don't you dare laugh!"

Petra had slapped her hand over her mouth, as if she could physically force the giggles back inside her body. That one she knew about; she'd bought the comb. But she'd also-

"You think that's bad?" Gunther piped up, waving a book around, "He took all of my mage-saga novels and replaced them with a self-help book and this dumb limerick!" He cleared his throat, reading aloud:

"'There once was the nerdiest soldier,

Who gave the whole world the cold shoulder,

I took all his books,

And hid them in nooks,

And now he looks fifty years older!'

That…that doesn't even make sense."

Oh dang Eld. How much free time did he have? He hadn't told her about any pranks he was setting for Gunther let alone-

"What he do to you?"

Gunther and Oruo were both staring intensely at her.

"I…I don't want to say."

She could feel her face heating up.

Oruo was exasperated, "Petra just tell us."

"He - uh." She couldn't hide how disturbed she was, "He filled my room with stuffed animals."

They continued to stare at her, a little less pissed off and a little more perplexed.

"They're various woodland creatures and…" She was pulling at her sleeves, "…they're wearing w-waistcoats."

"Oh no." Oruo, knowing the gravity of this situation, walked over to her, and looked back at Gunther sombrely, "It's her biggest fear."

Gunther seemed troubled, "Stuffed animals in waistcoats?"

"Any animals wearing human clothes." Oruo answered frankly.

"Petra, your job is killing titans - that's-"

"…there was a squirrel in a top hat." Her voice was wobbly and quiet, almost a whisper, and Oruo rubbed her upper back in comforting circles. "How on earth did he find out that I hate that?"

Hold on.

She glared sharply at Oruo who, on noticing her glower, slowly brought his hand away from her back.

"What me? Petra I would never! I swear! Do you really think I'd ever seriously tell that asshole anything?"

Gunther intervened, "Alright, alright. How he found out isn't important right now. We need to find him and give him a piece of our minds."

They simultaneously looked towards Eld's door.

"I'll handle this." Gunther narrowed his eyes, "But be ready."

Ah, Gunther the diplomat. This was getting good.

He approached the door, holding up a hand to the others, "Eld..?" He knocked a couple of times, "Eld? Are you in there? I just wanna talk…"

Silence.

Gunther glanced back at the others and knocked again, "…Eld?"

"This is a waste of time. I'm breaking the door in." Oruo rocked up, throwing his jacket to the ground so he was back in just his vest and yelled through the door, "Hear that you bastard?! Get ready for the ass-kicking of a lifetime!"

Gunther nodded in agreement, stepping aside to give Oruo, the enforcer, space.

Petra had to admit that this was a little thrilling. As much as she didn't want anyone to get hurt, and as much as she'd had a part to play in pranking Oruo, she had been genuinely terrified when she walked into her dorm room to see the array of fancily adorned stuffed toys. She shivered, remembering their posh little suits and decorated petticoats; their dry, dead fur; their soulless button eyes shining ever so slightly through the gloom of her room. Yep. Eld was going to pay for that one.

Oruo rushed the door with his shoulder and to everyone's surprise it smashed open immediately and he crashed to the floor with a thud. Maybe they should have checked if it was unlocked first…

He sprang up instantly, even more furious than before and practically blasted into the room;

"Come out you motherfucker! I've killed titans, I can kill you!"

Petra and Gunther shared a look, before following him in, shouting:

"Eld you coward!"

"Show yourself!"

The room was empty as it was dark. The window was open and the curtains blew about in the gentle evening breeze.

"Where the hell is he?" Oruo barked.

"Do you think he escaped through the window?" Gunther queried.

"Look - on the desk." Petra pointed to a small note, just about visible in the darkness.

She picked it up and they all huddled around, squinting at it.

"Give it here." Oruo snatched it from Petra's hand, earning a miffed 'hey' and held it nearer the window where the moonlight made the paper easier to read:

'Some scouts' lives are more valuable than others…'

"What the hell?" Gunther mumbled, "Anyone got any idea-"

"ARGHHHHHHH!"

The three shrieked and yelled, spinning around to see a shrouded figure approaching framed by the light from the doorway. The figure was hooded, draped in dark rags, with blood running down its arms. They fell about, squealing and scrambling over one another, backing towards the window, until Gunther stood up.

"Wait a minute - ELD!" He shouted.

The figure stopped in its evil tracks, its outstretched arm slowly redirecting its course to the hood on its head, and then pulling it down swiftly to reveal the blonde scout, practically crying with laughter.

"That'll teach you to come into my room." He managed, between gasps for air.

"Grrrr!" Oruo was up like a shot, and grabbed Eld by the neck and threw him against the wall, "What the hell do you think you're playing at Jinn!"

"Gee whizz Oruo, buy a guy a drink first!" Eld choked out, "Man, you should have seen your faces." He seemed entirely unfazed by Oruo's hand gripping his throat and was struggling to keep himself together.

"Shut your damn mouth! What if one of us had died of a heart attack?"

"Hm."

The room stilled.

"What's all the commotion?"

Their eyes flicked to the doorway, to the shadow of a very short, very scary man.

Oh fuck.

Even silhouetted like this, it was clear what his expression was. And it was clear from Eld's face that this was not part of his plan.

The Captain swept his hand along the side of the door frame and moved it slowly away, rubbing some of the 'blood' substance Eld had used between his fingertips.

"So this is the Survey Corp's most elite team? You're like a gaggle of shitty infants." He paused, staring at them through the darkness. "Start by cleaning this up. Then get your asses to the common room."

In a moment he was gone, leaving them strewn about the place in disarray. Yikes. Petra picked herself up from the floor, shut the window and dusted herself down as Gunther lit some candles, finally illuminating Eld's dorm.

"Looks like your position as second may be in trouble." Oruo taunted, releasing Eld from his grip against the wall, "Was that meant to be blood on your arms? Heh. It's black, not sure if they taught you this in idiot school, but blood's red."

Eld scoffed, massaging his neck where Oruo'd grabbed him, "It's black treacle. And tell that to your screaming self a minute ago; it seemed to do the trick in the low light."

"I'll knock your block off-"

"Both of you be quiet. Don't make this worse." Gunther scolded.

The four of them worked together in silence sulking, like reprimanded children, wiping up treacle and tidying Eld's room before apprehensively making their way back out into the corridor.

Petra wasn't sure which door she wanted to open less: the one to her dorm room, to the dark dungeon of extravagantly attired animals, or the one to the common-room, to the freezing wrath of humanity's most deadly soldier. Both options were bad.

They filed in in a line, and Eld took himself to the sink to wash the molasses off his arms, which the Captain allowed. He was sat at the head of the table with a cup of tea, his disdain theatrically half-illuminated by the fire.

"So. Anyone plan on telling me what the hell I just witnessed?"

His question gave way to frantic babbling and stammering, and several utterances of the words 'Eld' and 'Night of the Wraiths'. He waited, wearily sipping his tea until the rabble of noise slowly petered out, as each member of the squad floundered and gave up one by one. He had a way about him that seemed to ground every situation back in reality, and they collectively found that the ridiculous frivolity of their evening thus far could not be adequately explained or justified.

"This may surprise you, but I don't give a damn what you dimwits do with your free time. Having said that, I also don't appreciate returning to a screeching banshee's nest."

He took another sip, and the four squad members remained silent and still as the night air. Petra once again found herself mesmerised by him as he sat in the glow of the flames. It was seriously hard to gauge his mood, but he seemed less irked than she'd anticipated.

"Tch."

…Or maybe not.

He finished his cup and stood up, leaning forward with his hands on the table as she'd noticed him do in the couple of briefings they'd had before formation practice. He stared at Eld pointedly.

"You wouldn't happen to know why Hange thinks they can store all their bullshit in my office now, would you?"

Petra side-eyed Eld, whose eyebrows twitched, "No Captain."

The Captain narrowed his eyes, "I mention it because it's a problem for you. The room is currently a disgusting hell-hole. It's impossible to work in, which is why I had to come back here. Course, I had no idea what I was returning to, as it turns out."

"The Section Commander is storing stuff in your office? Why? …and what?" Gunther asked with genuine confusion.

The Captain kept his eyes trained on Eld as he spoke, "It's overflowing with arbitrary lab crap and some parts for titan-trap prototypes. Though I didn't get a good look because I was too busy leaving. Not only has it set me further behind on paperwork, but now there isn't anywhere for us to hold your performance review tomorrow. Or was that part of your plan?"

Eld cleared his throat, "We can always have the review somewhere else, sir."

Light jumped through the Captain's eyes.

"Is that so? And where would you have it?"

Petra's eyes widened. Wait, this was Eld's plan to help her?

"In the mess hall, sir."

The Captain scoffed, "Seems appropriate, based off this evening."

He stood up fully, pinching the bridge of his nose and strongly exhaled. The line still stood nervously watching him. After a few moments, he made his way to the door.

"Get it together. All of you. That's an order."

The group loudly and simultaneously breathed out when he'd gone. Petra hadn't realised how little she'd been breathing the whole time the Captain was speaking, and she felt a bit dizzy.

It seemed he'd let them off lightly.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, "I'll make us some tea."

Not wanting to stand in the awkward line any longer, she busied herself collecting the Captain's empty cup, and preparing a new pot.

Eld leant on the wall, arms folded, "All things considered, that didn't go as badly as I thought it would."

Oruo growled and started for him but Gunther put a hand on his shoulder and glanced over in warning.

"Pfft. You really think I want to hang around and have tea with you suckers after this?" Oruo grumbled.

"You don't have to stay." Petra said, "You could always go back to rearranging your room."

"Did you find your clothes yet?" Eld teased.

Oruo whipped around, steaming, "My what?!"

"So that's a no."

Oruo slammed his fist on the table, and tore out of the room.

"Alright, Eld." Gunther began, "Enough pissing around. Where'd you put them."

"His clothes?"

"My books."

"Ah. Well, you'd have to ask the Wraiths."

"God damn-"

"Eld, come on." Petra looked at him seriously.

He caught her eye, sighing, "They're under your bed man. You obviously didn't look at all."

Gunther huffed and left, passing Oruo as he was rushing back into the room, hands full of brightly coloured material, and his eyes dark, "Thongs? You replaced all my clothes…with women's thongs?!"

Eld smiled cheekily, "I had a little help with that one." He glanced over at Petra, who instantly began singing to herself and rushing about with the tea. She was flitting between points in the kitchenette like an indecisive hummingbird.

Balls. If she'd realised just how far Eld was going to go with it, she wouldn't have helped him. Though he had potentially managed to get the Captain to the mess hall at lunch tomorrow as he'd promised…

"Petra?" Oruo's voice rasped. He sounded genuinely quite hurt, "You…helped?"

She turned to him, his expression was nothing short of distraught, and all his previous rage had apparently drained away. Oh god. She actually felt guilty. For Oruo. The most selfish jerk in the world.

She sputtered, "I-"

"Don't get too mad Oruo, I needed to spend my winnings on something, and I couldn't very well buy that many thongs myself, they'd laugh me out of the lingerie shop." Eld joshed.

"I can't believe you would…" Oruo looked down miserably at his fistful of underwear, then back up to Eld with renewed rage, "And you - son of a bitch - spending your winnings on women's thongs just so you could prank me? Get a life."

He snorted angrily and left the room. Seconds later, they heard a door slam.

"Gee. No-one has a sense of humour today huh?" Eld sighed.

Petra quietly removed the tea leaves from the pot and evenly poured two cups.

"Are you mad at me too?" He asked sincerely, taking his cup, "You know, It wouldn't have been fair not to get you as well."

Petra blinked, and lifted her tea to her lips, "I could be persuaded to forgive you." She said curtly, "If you remove those abominations from my room and never mention it ever again."

"Deal."

They clinked their teacups together.

"How did you find out about my fear by the way?"

He tapped his nose, "Trick of the trade buddy."

Petra frowned.

"Happy Night of the Wraiths pal." He muttered.

She smiled wryly. "Happy Night of the Wraiths, asshole."

Chapter 11: Dare

Chapter Text

The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Friday

Levi had been pleasantly surprised by the diligence of his squad so far today, especially as Erwin was once again surveying them this morning; the first of his weekly observations until the new line-up of the squad had made it through their first expedition together.

It was good to know they had taken his warning seriously the previous evening, though it appeared they'd also completely stopped talking to one another at all, which he found a little unsettling.

They were back out on ODM run two practicing a new formation he'd put together at speed from the small desk in his dorm room the night before. His current lack of office space was proving extremely irritating, and he was yet to get the bottom of the situation, though he had his strong suspicions.

Had everyone lost their damn minds?

One moronic evening of the year and even the most esteemed and high-ranking soldiers turned into utter children. He knew some people called it the infantry, but he never expected everyone to take it so literally.

When he'd stormed down to Erwin's office upon finding his own jam-packed with garbage, he'd found it empty, a slip of paper on the desk which read:

'Gone to visit Nile. Happy Night of the Wraiths.'

It took a serious amount of self control not to break a chair that time. And when Hange handed him the note which permitted them to store things in his office: the note that he himself had supposedly written, he'd grabbed the front of their shirt so firmly it was close to ripping. Just thinking about it was ruining his mood.

He came to a stop, hearing the familiar high-pitched squealing. Eld hung in the air looking a little bored, like he knew he'd be the one to run out of gas today. He'd been lucky too in that there were no dummies around at this point in the course, and therefore it would be very easy for him to be 'rescued'.

"Oruo." Levi ordered, "You're up. Get Eld and follow on behind."

"Captain, with all due respect sir, if Eld died beyond the wall, I'd leave him there."

Levi's sharp glower was all it took for Oruo to instantly change his attitude, and he fearfully zipped off to fetch the 'dead-weight' Eld.

The damn gall.

He could faintly hear the pair of them bickering from behind him as they all made their way further through the trees. He blew air through his nose, scowling. Erwin better be out of earshot of their childishness. If they kept this up, there was no limit to the number of laps he was planning on making them run.

Targets were coming up.

He turned back to the squabbling pair. Did they think he couldn't hear them?

"Oruo, hang back. And shut your mouth."

He flipped back around and caught Gunther's eye to his right, and Petra's to his left. They were still working on non-verbal communication for the most part, and it was particularly important for dispatches.

He indicated to Gunther to take out the smaller four-metre target, and to Petra to assist him with the seven-metre, which they instantly did. Mere seconds passed and the area was declared clear enough for Oruo to bring his limp blonde cargo through and they could continue onward.

He didn't know why, perhaps because it was her first week, or perhaps because Erwin was once again surveying them, but he kept mindlessly checking on Petra's position. It seemed that a part of his subconscious was overly fixated on her performance. He'd catch himself searching her out through the trees as they raced through the course, and he'd watch her form as she executed spin cuts for a half a second longer than any of the other squad members.

It wasn't much, but he'd noticed himself noticing…which in itself was strange.

"Petra." He commanded, "Take Eld and follow from the back."

There. That'd stop him focusing on her during dispatches. He had to spread his attention through the team evenly.

Petra was standing on a branch not too far from him, staring with an expression of serious concern.

"What is it?" He snapped, and she blinked several times before composing herself.

"N-nothing Captain. Right away." She stammered, before taking to the trees again to find Oruo.

—

Oh lord.

Petra had met Oruo on a branch and he'd passed Eld over to her…though all three of them were evidently wary about it.

Had it been a fireman's lift, and they were on the ground, she might have managed to carry him more easily, or even at all, but movement with the ODM gear was so complicated already, and she didn't have the ground beneath her skeleton helping her with the weight. She barely made it one swing through the trees (cursing consistently) with him under her arm, and in that one 'simple' action he'd nearly plummeted as she struggled to grip him.

God she really had to think. Maybe she should just give up now and hand him over to the stationed cadets and face whatever punishment the Captain dished out. Somehow she had to find a way around this. She was not going to be responsible for the severe injury or potential death of her team mate, especially not because of a simple training exercise.

They had stopped on a high wide branch, aware that they were falling seriously behind the group and Eld stood up from where she'd placed him.

She sighed, rubbing her temples, "Get back down, you're supposed to be dead."

"If we carry on like this, I will be, and you're gonna put your back out killing me. No offence, but I'd rather die heroically in the field than because you couldn't lift me in a training exercise."

Petra sniffed. She felt like a deadbeat again. Just like she had when she was trialling.

"Fine." She said sharply, "What do you suggest?"

An irrational kind of burning exasperation was descending over her. She was already sick of feeling like the weakling of this group, and it'd only been one week. It wasn't her fault she was so small. She just didn't have the muscle mass of the others. Damn the damn Captain, giving everyone unrealistic expectations of the weights smaller people could carry.

"See if you can do better with me on your back, piggyback style." He said, eyeing her evenly, "Then you aren't using your muscles to lift me so much and I can grip on to you properly if we start having problems."

"Mm." She sulked, scowling into the forest.

"Let's just see if we can make it one swing." He urged.

—

Where the hell were they?

They'd disappeared almost instantly, and as much as Levi wanted to trust that they'd catch up to the group, he was beginning to doubt they would. Perhaps putting her at the back with Eld hadn't been the smartest idea.

It was a problem for a number of reasons, the main one being that being split up like this in the field drastically lowered everyone's chances of survival, plus at some point in training they'd have to swap over who was carrying the dead-weight and who was working together taking out targets.

It was also substantially slowing their run time, which wasn't that important, though it was irritating when he knew they could do better.

Another, much smaller problem was that Levi found that just because she was out of sight hadn't meant Petra was out of mind. In fact, he'd been thinking about their position at the back almost the entire time since he'd sent her there.

He might've been a little rash in asking her to carry someone so much heavier than herself. No; he couldn't coddle her. Everyone on the team had their burdens to bear in training. Turned out hers was just a little more literal.

And it was completely natural to focus on the newest member of a team more than the others; it was important to make sure they were assimilating.

He halted mid-air and came to a stand-still on a tree, his legs crouched on the trunk, hooked in to the higher branches. Oruo and Gunther clocked his stop, and convened nearby, awaiting any instruction. Levi did nothing but stare back down through the course, frowning and waiting.

—

At least his piggyback idea was kind-of working…very slowly.

Through the trees in front, Eld saw the rest of the squad had stopped, the Commander up even further ahead, like an aloof and remote owl, sporting an indecipherable expression.

Yes, he shouldn't have been looking, 'dead' people couldn't see. And yes, he shouldn't have been actively clinging to Petra with his arms locked about her neck, 'dead' people couldn't control their muscles, but there was just no other way. It was that or immediately fall hundreds of feet to the ground, scrambling mid-air to fire a hook into a tree, and 'dead' people could not fire hooks into trees. The squad'd have to help her gain a lot of upper body strength if they wanted her to be able to carry any of them for more than ten seconds using the gear, and Eld didn't personally think that was a good use of their time.

Why not place her in dispatch up front where she shone and could make full use of her excellent teamwork skills? If one of them died or was severely injured beyond the wall, she could always send for help. Granted, maybe it wasn't a terrible idea to trial run her getting someone back to the group, but two seconds into her trying it was very clear she just wasn't ready for that kind of challenge yet.

The squad just didn't need Petra's help in this area, not right now anyway…surely what they needed was her to provide an example of being an excellent assist, to bring the team together. Wasn't that the whole point of recruiting her?

—

They came to a stop for probably the hundredth time on a high wide branch near the team; Petra dripping with sweat and panting as she crouched and placed Eld down on it. Hoo boy.

She heard the tinny sound of wires and instantly the Captain appeared on the branch beside the pair.

He held her eyes for a few seconds without saying a word, and she gazed back from her half hunched position of fatigue, stabilising herself with a hand on the tree trunk.

Was he angry? It was impossible to know.

She was frustrated. She didn't want to disappoint him, but she was also trying her best and he had to have some realistic expectations of what she could achieve; she'd only been on his squad for a week.

He moved his gaze to forest floor, but continued to stand, deep in thought, saying nothing. Petra peeked at Eld, who was laid out across the branch; he opened a single eye which seemed to ask "what the hell is going on?" and she shook her head in response.

—

Levi'd messed up. And he was overthinking this, likely because of the pressure from Erwin.

"Next time, use your flare." He said suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground, "Go on ahead, I'll take it from here."

—

'It?'

Eld's eyes opened again and he raised an eyebrow.

—

'Use your flare?' As in…ask for help?

Petra sighed as she continued through the course. She supposed that was reasonable, but she was left with a sour feeling. It was almost worse than being reprimanded for slowing everyone down.

Her confidence had taken another knock. She'd have to reinstate it by absolutely ruining the napes of some dummies.

She pulled herself up, flinging herself through the branches at speed, looping, flipping and demolishing dummy titans. As fabric and wood splintered through the air, she could already feel some joy returning.

—

"Why put her at the back with me Captain? That's not the best use of the squad's skills."

Levi considered dropping Eld.

They maintained an even distance behind the squad, who were practically bulldozing the course with a renewed sense of vigour. They were already making time back.

Had Levi himself also been slowing them down…because he was preoccupied?

"Captain, I'm serious. Beyond the wall it'd be too risky for her to try and carry one of us back if we sustained casualties."

And had Eld forgotten his performance review was less than an hour away?

"You're talkative for a dead body."

He could practically feel Eld rolling his eyes. Hindsight was a glorious thing of course.

Overall this morning had been fairly strong. Oversight aside, he'd learned something about how this new set-up of the squad was going to function, and he'd learned something about his own response to it. That meant he could plan for it. And that was exactly what he'd tell the Commander.

It was time.

Julia was giving an encouraging shoulder massage to Petra, who was sat opposite Hannah in the mess hall. On the other side of the hall, Eld sat opposite the Captain, embroiled in conversation. She couldn't believe he'd actually managed to get him there. Eld was truly a master of scheming.

In a few minutes, she'd make her way over, and try not to get herself immediately dismissed from the elite squad she'd only just joined. They were on their own table, so at least there might be be minimal witnesses to what was about to happen.

"How are you feeling?" Hannah asked, her eyes blazing.

"Try not to look so excited. He's not going to agree to it." Petra replied shortly.

"I'm not so sure about that one." Jules added from behind her, "Weren't you the one telling us that the Captain was always surprising you?" It might have been in her mind, but Petra swore that Jules's fingers dug into her shoulders with a little more force.

Had she really said that out loud? To people? Flip. Here came the blush again. How embarrassing. She'd have to stop drinking so much ale when she visited them.

She coughed, "I - um."

Hannah raised her eyebrows.

"I'm ready. Let's go." Petra said quickly and firmly, she wasn't going to indulge those raised brows. She stood from their bench with a confidence that she certainly didn't feel.

Hannah and Julia tailed her to the Captain's table with an effervescent enthusiasm. They were doing a truly terrible job of seeming casual as they approached. When Petra stopped, they continued walking past and came to hang by the wall a couple of metres away, where they could catch Petra's eye, just to further embarrass her.

Petra just stood there.

She could've approached the two men like a normal person, said hello, asked to join them maybe, but no, she had to stop and stand vacantly, lurking next to them for a horrible amount of time, frozen with dread, not saying a single word.

Why wasn't she doing anything? Had they even noticed she was there? She scrunched up her face. Oh god. Just say something, literally anything.

She caught the Captain look up at her blankly, though upon closer inspection, she could have sworn there was a glimmer of confusion in his eyes. On catching his shift in attention, Eld turned around;

"Petra? Fancy seeing you here!" He chattered brightly, "Having a good lunch break so far? And what, I wonder, brings you all the way over to this side of the mess hall?"

He was so darn smug. She'd have to get him back later. It wasn't helping that she could hear the giggling of her two ex-squad mates from over by the wall.

She hardened herself, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Now or never.

"Captain Levi - sir - I'm here to challenge you to an arm wrestle."

Good lord. She kept her eyes tight shut. If they were shut, nothing bad could happen, right?

"Alright."

Wait…what?

Her eyes flickered open and she stared at him. He returned her gaze measuredly, even with a hint of amusement,

"If I win, you can assist me with the paper work this month. I would get you to tidy my office as well but Eld has already very kindly offered to do that."

Eld side-eyed her and shrugged sheepishly. Did that mean he'd been found out?

So it was either lose an arm wrestle and assist the Captain with his paperwork for a month or run away now and commit herself to the same month's worth of oiling Hannah's gear, not to mention having to face the embarrassment of her cowardice. Either way she lost out.

Jeez, how had one dumb dare become all these stupid commitments to different people?

"What's the hold up? Take a seat."

"…and if I win, Captain?"

His eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. Somewhere in her periphery she could make out Eld's muffled guffaws.

"I'll do my own paperwork."

Petra's mouth fell open.

"Problem?"

Yes!

"N-no sir." She muttered taking a seat on the bench next to Eld.

"And because I'm feeling generous, I'll use my left."

So this was actually happening then.

He leant his elbow on the table, hand in the air in invitation, his grey eyes never leaving hers in quiet challenge. There was something extra in his usual expression, so subtle, but he seemed to be ignited, as though he were revelling in this turn of events.

Petra was not one to back down from a challenge. Even a completely idiotic one like this. She wasn't foolish enough to consider for a second that she had any chance of beating him, even with her dominant left, but she'd be damned if she didn't give it a good go.

Her eyes narrowed, and she brought her hand to his with a clap. Her breath hitched a little as she felt a slight jolt of something through her, like a connected circuit. His hand was rough from the gear, but it also had a certain softness and warmth that she wasn't expecting.

Eld excessively cleared his throat, "Ladies, Gentlemen, Diners of the Mess-"

They both shot him a sharp look. Petra could once again hear Hannah and Jules giggling and whispering.

"Right, sorry. Three-two-one-go!"

It was over basically before it had begun.

Petra and Eld burst out laughing as her hand was instantly smashed against the table and the Captain let go, the same faint trace of amusement gracing his features.

All that planning for less than a second of action.

"That settles that. Tuesdays and Thursdays after drills. My office." He stood and made his way away from the table.

"Aren't you gonna do best of three?" Eld called after him.

Petra clouted him on the arm as Hannah and Julia slipped into the bench opposite, bursting with astonished, excitable energy.

"Holy fuck that was cool." Julia babbled.

Hannah put her hand out to shake Petra's, "Short-stuff, I gotta hand it to ya, you actually pulled it off - I wasn't sure you would."

"Are you guys kidding me? That was totally pathetic and embarrassing." Petra said meekly.

Eld clapped a hand to her back, "Nah, for a second there it really looked like you had him."

Petra snort-laughed, "Nice of you to say it lasted a second," and then, shaking Hannah's hand, "Looks like you owe me a dare in return."

Hannah grinned and nodded.

It was actually really nice to be surrounded by friends from both her squads.

She looked from her old pals back to Eld, "Wait - I don't think you guys have met? Hannah, Jules, this is Eld, he's-"

Julia lifted a hand out to stop her, "We've met."

Petra froze, clocking the shame-faced expressions of all three of her companions.

"What? When?"

They were all looking at each other, none of them wanting to speak first. Jules nudged Hannah who bit her lip.

"Uh…" She looked back to Jules for support.

"We might have had some essential information regarding certain animals wearing certain human clothes that Eld needed for an undisclosed purpose…"

Petra stared openmouthed. And she'd tried to blame Oruo. She should have fucking known. Where else could he have found that out.

"I can't believe-"

"We're sorry!" Hannah and Jules jointly proclaimed with rueful, sparkling wide-eyes.

"I thought you had my back!" Petra said incredulously.

"I'm sure Oruo would say the same thing to you." Eld remarked with a teasing 'holier-than-thou' expression.

Darn. He had her there. She pouted and folded her arms, boring into him with her indignation.

"What? I'm just saying." He chirped, standing from the bench, "Now, it was lovely to see you all again, let's do this more often. I think we should get a betting circle going - In a few weeks she might last longer than zero seconds." He looked directly at Petra, "I'll see you this evening, and don't be late - I'm making apology stew."

She bet herself that he'd made apology stew many times before in his life.

"Where are you going?"

"I have an office to clean." He seemed resigned to his fate, nodding once and dismissing himself.

"Are those…flowers?"

Levi distantly inspected the tiny vase of pumpkin-orange posies embellishing the Commander's desk from his position by the door. This meeting was last minute; it was only supposed to be short, and it had already been derailed.

"Do you like them?" Erwin glanced up from writing, narrowing his eyes a touch.

"…"

The Commander chuckled, going back to his work, "They provide an autumnal liveliness that I find quite pleasing."

So Erwin was fannying about with flowers now?

Levi scowled.

"Your squad Levi-"

"I told you before. It was an oversight. It won't happen again."

Erwin raised his monstrous brows, returning his pen to its ink pot, "That wasn't what I was going to say." There was a crafty glint in his eye that set Levi on edge a little, it was a side of Erwin he'd witnessed on rare occasions, rather like when he'd had a bit to drink.

"I have a request of you and your squad, if you'll hear it."

Levi wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Go on."

Ultimately though, he couldn't deny any request from Erwin. He folded his arms.

"Following the next expedition is the annual winter parade in Trost. Nile informed me yesterday evening that funders would be in attendance, and I've secured an invite to the benefit following the parade."

Levi's nostrils flared. The thought of spending any time around those rich pigs was enough to set his teeth on edge, let alone that disgusting word 'parade' that Erwin had used. Dicking around with bright-ass colours, flags and dumb floats? No thanks.

"So what? You want us to sweet talk the swine?"

"Not exactly. I want your squad to take part in the parade, along with Mike's and Hange's."

Shit. That was the worst thing Erwin could have said.

"The Garrison and MP's have slots, so we'll follow them. We have to be a spectacle to garner interest, so I think it would be good to make use of your team's high level ODM skill through the city streets."

Levi snorted, "Are you gonna make us dress as angels or some shit as well?"

There was a pause and he had a horrible feeling that Erwin was actually considering it. His stomach went cold.

"No, I think that would be lacking some nuance." Erwin thought for a moment, "Though perhaps something little more eye-catching than the standard uniform isn't a terrible idea. I'll make an appointment with the scout's tailor and see what we come up with."

Levi wanted to throw himself out the window. He was beginning to get a headache from intensely clenching his jaw.

"…is that all?" He asked quietly and testily. He needed to get out of this office immediately, before he dug this hole any deeper and they ended up singing carols as well.

"Yes." Erwin smiled, "Thank you Levi."

Chapter 12: The Tavern Quiz

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The stew did smell great. Eld knew it had to, because Gunther had emerged from his room with his book and plopped himself on the sofa. He still hadn't said a word to Eld since the novel-hiding incident the previous evening, but this seemed like a prime opportunity to make amends; after all, that's what apology stew was all about.

"How's the book?" Eld asked casually, rolling out some basic dumplings, "Did the wayward mage get his revenge yet?"

Gunther huffed, "Her revenge and yeah right. I'm only on chapter twelve and she still hasn't killed this goblin princess who stole the cursèd orb of-"

Gunther caught himself, and glanced up in a kind of shock; he realised that he'd broken his silent promise to ignore Eld. He snorted, "Why do you care? I thought this was all nerd stuff to you."

"That doesn't mean I'm not interested."

The room fell back into silence again, but the atmosphere was peaceful. Eld could already feel the stew's magic working. He reckoned even Oruo might be won back over once he'd tasted the dumplings. They were his mother's special recipe and he'd managed to wrangle some thyme to make them that much more flavoursome.

"Mmmm smells delicious!"

Petra waltzed in glowing in her long pastel yellow nightshirt, fresh from the shower with a towel round her neck and a crossword puzzle in hand, "Do you need any help?"

Eld smiled, "Nah, you're all good."

She made her way to the table by the fireside and sat contentedly scanning the puzzle, her chin in her hand in thought.

Eld finished rolling out dumplings and checked his simmering stew, before placing them one by one on top of it and covering the pot.

"Go on then, give us a clue."

Petra glanced up, eyebrows raised, "Are you sure? I really don't think you can help me."

Eld smarted, "How rude - try me."

She pressed her lips together and caught his eye, " 'Underground store for a vendor, so we hear.' Six letters."

What on earth…?

Eld made a face and Gunther looked up from his book.

"The hell?" Gunther quietly grumbled.

Underground store…underground…for vendor? We hear?

Oh.

Eld crossed his arms, scowling, "You son-of-a-bitch, you never said it was cryptic."

Petra tittered, "Well, you never asked."

—

Levi had been stood at the doorway to the common room for several minutes. Thankfully no-one seemed to have noticed him.

He didn't want to go in.

The renewed social life of his squad was simply an unintended and tiresome side-effect of Petra joining. To think that this room, which for six months had been cold and empty had suddenly become aglow with light, cooking smells and activity, for at least three days on end…it was quite something and he didn't know if he was more exasperated or amazed at the change.

He didn't need tea that badly. He'd return to his room.

…

Eld moved to lean on the kitchen counter, "I was thinking-"

"A dangerous hobby." Petra interrupted, seeming pleased with herself and Eld smirked.

"I was thinking - how about we go to the quiz at the tavern tomorrow, you know, as a squad?"

Hm. Now they were all making plans together.

Gunther grunted, "Sure, why not."

Petra hummed sweetly a moment, once again looking up from her puzzle, "Mm. Maybe…that could be fun…"

She sighed softly, her head in her hand in thought, a small smile gracing her lips and the faintest pink tint to her cheeks. The firelight was illuminating her hair in radiant reds and golds, and sparking in her huge amber eyes. Her eyelashes gently fluttered as she removed the towel from her neck and folded it perfectly, placing it on her lap; the same way she'd folded her apron when Levi'd shared his tea with her in the mess hall. She seemed to move so gracefully; almost in slow motion, down to the tiniest movements she was pristine.

"Maybe? Could?" Eld asked accusingly.

She pushed some silken hair behind her ear, and licked her lips, a look in her eyes suggesting that she was considering how best to continue, "It will be fun. It'll be strange being on a different team to usual…that's all I meant."

"Cellar."

The word left him before he'd even had a chance to consider it. He mentally cursed himself, catching all their eyes on him.

Eld spoke first, "Captain?"

They remained staring at him expectantly and he realised that leaving without another word was becoming an ever diminishing option.

"An underground store, cellar. Or a vendor…seller. So we hear."

Petra blinked several times, realisation slowly dawning across her face and she luminously beamed, scribbling the letters into her puzzle.

It seemed that spending all that time sat by Farlan while he'd done crosswords had rubbed off on him. Strange…he'd always hated them. Sudoku was much better.

—

How did he…?

"Thank you Cap-"

But he was gone. Petra stared at the doorway in wonder for a moment; once again taken by surprise.

The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Saturday

"Come on Oruo." She pleaded.

He still refused to look at her.

"Knees up rookies!" He barked towards the newest group of recruits as they ran around the dirt path, laden with piles of logs.

She took a step closer to him, he took a step away. They'd been at this little dance for a while. It'd been a day and a half since the 'Night of the Wraiths' incident, and he'd barely spoken to any of squad, disappearing from the group at every given opportunity.

"You know, you missed out on a really great stew."

He harrumphed and walked away again, Petra sauntering after him.

"I thought you liked it when girls chased you around…"

This time he didn't immediately walk away, but instead stood still, his face utterly joyless. He was never good at taking a practical joke, or any kind of joke at his own expense.

"Gunther's coming."

He glanced at her glumly, and Petra sweetly batted her lashes, which for some reason only served to deepen his scowl.

Oh boy. This was rough. He'd never not spoken to her before like this, and it was upsetting her a little more than she cared to admit. She sighed quietly to herself.

"Oruo…"

The wind blasted them for a few cold seconds as they stood side by side, arms crossed, monitoring the scampering scouts.

"Fine." She said eventually. "For the hundredth time, I'm sorry that I helped Eld. But the rest of us are gonna be a team tonight at the quiz and it'll be really fun and the only person who will be missing out is you because you're too stubborn to forgive any of us."

She looked over to him but he didn't move an inch, only grimaced.

"Not to mention that if we win, we won't be splitting the cash with you."

Short of just physically dragging him along and forcing him to take part, there wasn't much else she could think to do. The optimist inside her had convinced her that he'd be over it by now, or even that he'd have forgiven her the first time she apologised, but he still so clearly couldn't let it go that she began to wonder if they'd drifted further apart than she'd realised. Ugh. This sucked, and it was making her feel like shit.

She huffed, pulling her jacket tightly around herself.

"Come on Levi!" Hange chirped loudly, leaning forward on his desk with unbridled enthusiasm, "It'll be fun - Moblit was up all night writing the questions."

Poor Moblit. It was apparent that he never had a choice in these matters, and it was beginning to look like Levi didn't either.

"Wouldn't you just relish the opportunity to show your new squad everything you know?"

"Isn't that why I train them?" Levi breathed bitterly.

His office was only just clear enough for him to work in, and now, apparently not content with having their presence entirely eradicated from it, Hange was once again filling all available space in the room.

"Hmmm I suppose that's true." They tapped a finger on the side of their face, "But we came so close to winning last time, and I know Erwin will be disappointed if we don't have you on our team."

Last time. By the second half of the quiz he was on damage control again, making sure the drunk buffoons of his team didn't embarrass themselves more than they already had. Frankly, it was above his pay grade.

"If Erwin wants me there he can come and tell me himself."

Hange raised their brows and leant further towards him, grinning, so close that he could smell the coffee on their breath.

"You know you want to." They prodded, "I'll buy you a new ascot."

He placed his pen down and looked at them pointedly and they looked back with hopeful question.

"Leave me alone Hange."

"Absolutely! I'll leave you alone just as soon as you agree to join our team for the quiz. Does that sound fair?"

For someone so smart, Hange's people skills were terrible. It seemed they weren't above trying to physically drag him along and force him to take part.

They stared at each other, neither backing down. A knock at the door broke their stalemate, and Erwin entered.

"Ah, good to catch you both."

Hange beamed, "Looks like Erwin can tell you himself!"

Shit.

Eld was glad the pair of them had agreed to be on a team with him, not least because he enjoyed their company, but also because since he'd been turned down by Anna, he felt a little awkward joining her squad's team, as he had done for previous quizzes.

He was sure that in time the awkwardness would dwindle and fade away, but for now, he was still a little sore about it.

Gunther had gone to the bar, and Petra was staring down into her tankard. She'd seemed pretty low all day; behind her usual smiles and brightness, there was a drop of despondency.

"Small-fry. What's eating ya?"

She continued gazing into her beer with a pained expression.

"If it's about Oruo, he'll come round." He nudged.

"I hope so. He's never ignored me like this before." She glanced up, "It's also just…"

She shook her head, continuing;

"God. I know this probably sounds silly…just, seeing my old squad at their table; Clara…I suddenly feel terrible and guilty again."

Eld said nothing, but he was sure his concern was obvious. What was there to tell her that he hadn't already? Clara's little speech had wormed its way into her and it wasn't letting go easily. That a squad leader could be so thoughtless and uncaring towards any member of their team, let alone the pure sunbeam that was Petra, was incompetence on a new level. It was negligent.

The best thing he could do for her right now was make sure she had an enjoyable evening.

"They only had the guest draught." Gunther said, placing a tankard in front of Eld, and taking a swig of his own before sitting, "What's going on here? It's like a memorial service."

"Nothing." Eld piped up, "We're discussing our very valuable strategy for winning, which we are going to do."

Petra's face flickered with a small smile.

"Great. What's the strategy?" Gunther questioned, ever-serious.

"I think we're planning on knowing the most correct answers to the questions out of everyone." Petra ventured wryly.

"That's a good start, that's a good start." Eld added, nodding, "But have you considered any distraction techniques we could use on the other teams? I'm personally not above flirting with Moblit to increase our score if it comes to that."

Petra giggled and Gunther cracked a rare smile. Eld would make this evening fun if it was the death of him.

—

They were three questions and countless drinks in and Levi was hating every second of it. It was dirty, it was loud, so many people were already plastered and he didn't know the answer to a single question. He hadn't expected to either, why Erwin and Hange insisted on him being there was beyond him.

"Neti pot." Mike grumbled, writing on their answer sheet.

Naturally Mike would know the answer to the question: "What is the name for the small container with a long spout used to rinse the nasal cavities?"

Levi scowled, holding his whiskey glass up to the candle on their table, inspecting the smudges in the light.

"Tch."

He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the glass irritably, ignoring Moblit's questions and the prattling of his team and instead focusing on trying to get it as clean as he could.

"Levi, Levi! You must know this one." Hange cawed, they went to grab his shoulder before thinking better of it. Good. They still had some sense.

Erwin chuckled, "Hange, I'm not convinced fairytales are Levi's forte."

"You never know…" Their big brown eyes looked at him intently through thickly rimmed glasses, "Levi - the seven dwarfs?"

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"What? No, see - we've already got Doc, Happy, Dopey, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful and…"

He glared at them.

"That's - right! Grumpy! Did you write that one down Mike?"

For fuck's sake.

Mike grunted and Levi stood abruptly, heading for the bar.

—

"It's macadamia nuts." Eld said confidently.

"I'm telling you it's almonds. Have you ever even tried marzipan?" Gunther countered angrily, trying to snatch the pen.

"Petra?" Eld looked to her hopefully, "What do you think? I think we both know who's right here." He raised his brows, and silently pointed to himself.

Gunther crossed his arms, "Stop trying to sway her opinion."

"When it's a question about which of the elves has the prettiest hair I'll let you answer it Gunther, how about that?"

Petra observed them both dubiously. She completely unsure of course, marzipan was a luxury that she'd never tasted.

"Er…" She started, and for a split second they stopped trying to grab the pen from one another, "Is it maybe made from…cashew nuts? Those are real nuts right?"

"I see Petra's talking about nuts again. Couldn't get her to shut up about them in cadets."

Oruo was stood by their table, hands on hips and a scornful look on his face.

Her face dissolved into a wide grin and she stared up at him with a mix of relief and disbelief.

She raised a brow, "Of course…I'm allergic to yours Oruo."

He smirked, and pulled out a chair, "I think you might be getting allergies confused with affinities my dear."

It was like a weight had been instantly lifted from her. Earlier in the day it was beginning to look like he'd never come around, yet here he was, cocky as ever. She never thought she'd actually yearn for the return of his frilly arrogance, but you don't know what you've got until it's gone. Oruo simply wasn't Oruo without a ludicrous level of hubris and swagger.

"While you two dorks have been chattering, we've missed about eighty-seven questions." Eld said, it looked like he was writing 'macadamia nuts' into the space, and Gunther had mentally checked out.

—

Levi leant on the bar, full glass of whiskey in hand, considering how long he could leave it before returning to his calamity of a quiz team. It wouldn't be long until one of them came looking for him, he was sure of that much. Hm. They'd probably assume he was off taking a shit.

He'd clocked his own squad, sat near the window, intensely entangled in conversation, and, for the briefest of seconds, he imagined joining them. Since he'd spotted them, it appeared they'd spent most of the time arguing over who was writing the answers. There was no way they were doing well. Not that he cared.

Petra snatched the pen from Eld, giving him a slight shove, and giggling easily as she filled in the sheet.

He took a sip of his bitter drink. He was sure he felt calm, at least, as calm as he could be in such a filthy place, but for some reason his heart was hammering again. Was he sick? Perhaps whiskey didn't agree with him as much as it used to.

—

"The flowers that shed their leaves today,

Shall bloom again tomorrow.

How grand in age, how fair in youth,

Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"

Petra and Gunther were chanting it feverishly into each others eyes, each as excited as the other that they both knew the words.

"Write it down - write it down!" Petra practically shouted.

Oruo was massaging his temples.

Eld was absolutely bowled over, in particular by Gunther's enthusiasm; he'd taken another step up in his willingness to make facial expressions and use the full range of his voice. Over the course of one pub quiz, Petra had managed to pull him further out of his shell than Eld had ever seen.

"Ok, what the fuck just happened? - there's no way that whole verse is the answer. " Eld looked to Oruo for support, as for the first time maybe ever, he was the only one who seemed to be rooted in reality.

Petra laughed, sloshing her drink around loosely in her hand, "No, no, the answer is 'Shall bloom again tomorrow'."

Gunther's eyes were boring into the other two men, "Have you really never heard that song?"

"Sure, these are the faces of two old folk song enthusiasts." Oruo deadpanned, gesturing to himself and Eld.

"It's a cute song!" Petra garbled, vaguely batting Oruo's arm and he immediately clutched the place she'd hit, gazing at her.

"It sounded like some bullshit the Wallists would sing man." Eld responded, taking a swig of his rapidly diminishing beer.

"Next question, a riddle: I shave every day - Gelgar! Please!" Moblit was once again looking extremely flustered. Eld couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the poor guy relaxed. As the evening progressed he was having to shout even louder to fend off the various heckles from various drunk scouts. Even with Nifa working with him to try and regulate the noise levels it was becoming quite untenable.

"T-Thank you. Next question: I shave every day, but my beard stays the same. What am I?"

"Eld." Oruo uttered firmly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm saying that's the answer to the question."

Petra guffawed, bolstering Oruo, who made some sardonic comment, and the two of them bickered about something or other. A soldier walked right by their table, casually dropping a slip of paper in front of Gunther, who keenly scanned it.

"Oh wait I know." Petra exclaimed, "A barber! That's it, that's right isn't it?"

"Gunther." Eld spoke lowly, and the man in question looked up from the slip, "What's going on? Are you cheating? Because if so, good work."

The muscles in Gunther's mouth tightened and he slyly placed the paper in his pocket, "I think you're right. It's a barber." He said, writing the answer in the space.

Well that was weird.

—

Levi's team were a man down. He had an inkling where Mike might be, as Nanaba was apparently missing from her team too.

This quiz was certainly not being well regulated; which made it just like most things in the military.

At least Erwin wasn't drunk (yet), though he had returned to the bar. Hange on the other hand had been one of the main culprits heckling Moblit. Maybe heckling wasn't the right word; it was more like…aggressive encouragement. It was particularly unwise of Hange to drink this much, what with their squad's upcoming titan-trap demonstrations, they had plenty of vital work to do.

"Levi - Levi…do you know…" They began, once again leaning forward across the table towards him. This time however, their breath smelled like alcohol.

"No." His frown deepened. No way he was he going to like where this was going.

"I hhaven't asked - do you know…" They hiccuped, "If your n-new subordinate…issssingle?"

Single?

The hell was that about.

Were they out of their damn mind?

Tch.

His fingers were pressing into his glass with some force, and the muscles in his jaw twitched.

"Spare me."

"She's very cute. I wouldn't mind doing some…expperiments with her…" They winked, "Hah!"

This must be what migraines felt like.

"Thought you only fucked titans." He forced whisky down his throat.

Hange scream-laughed, throwing their head back, "N-never say never!" They beamed, lolling their head onto their hand, "She smells like…mmm…vanilla…and a curious mind too - a puzzler…" Something flashed across their face, and their grin widened, "Oh! Did y-you know that we shared a bath together?"

Levi's chest was tight and his glass was getting ever closer to breaking in his hand.

What crime was he being punished for?

And where the damn hell was Erwin?

—

Eld was scratching his head, "But…we're so close to getting the answers…"

"Yeah, sorry. I'm tired, and I'm up early tomorrow feeding horses." Gunther said flatly.

"I for one don't blame you. I also hate spending time with these dweebs." Oruo gibed.

"Is this because of the note that guy handed you?" Eld asked pointedly.

Oruo looked at Eld in confusion, "Note?"

Petra was a little lost. A note? Some guy? Gunther was looking directly at her. His dark eyes flickered a little with something, and she realised he was imploring her. Oh. Some guy. The pieces were falling slowly into place.

She coughed, "Just let him go guys, it is late. I know if I had work tomorrow morning I wouldn't still be here."

Eld and Oruo glanced at her quizzically.

Gunther nodded at the table once, "Alright. I'll see you all later."

"Have a good night." Eld said dubiously, side-eyeing him.

"Gunther," Petra smiled, "I hope your evening is…wonderful."

A flash of recognition struck his face and he practically bolted from the tavern.

Once he'd disappeared, Eld placed down his tankard with some force, "Ok Petra what the hell was that about?"

"What? Nothing! If he wants to go he should be able to go! He doesn't owe you an explanation."

Oruo was scratching the back of his head in his usual way, his eyes flitting between the two.

Eld's eyes narrowed, "I hope your evening is…" He paused for a frankly silly amount of time, and then with a flick of his wrist, "Woonderful."

Petra stared at him open mouthed, "That is so not what I sounded like."

"I hate to give him credit but that was quite accurate." Oruo interjected.

"Oruo!" She bleated.

"Look, booster-seat, it's all good. If I swung that way I might have a little crush on Gunther too. He's a…sturdy…sort of guy. We won't tell, right Oruo?" He winked.

"Wow." Petra mouthed to no-one.

Oruo scowled and almost drowned himself with his drink.

There was something quite hilarious about Eld thinking she liked Gunther in that way. Hmm…Eld sure did like to mess with other people…

Petra threw her hands over her face, "Oh god I just…it's so embarrassing!"

"Huh?" The two men chorused, bewildered.

She peeled her hands away from her face, mock fanning herself with one hand, "You're right Eld. He is so…sturdy. What's a girl to do?"

They continued to stare at her, open mouthed.

"Do you think he could ever - love - someone like me? I mean, he probably thinks I'm too short for him. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm not his type at all!"

She was really hamming this up, and the alcohol was helping. There was no way they could be buying it-

"Actually I think you might be wrong there-" Eld began, but was cut off by a rather irate Oruo;

"Shut your hole. We're missing the answers."

Petra chuckled to herself.

—

What a damn waste of an evening.

"Until next month then." Erwin chuckled, just as Levi forcefully closed Hange's bedroom door, having dumped them (about to pass out) on their bed.

At least it was over. He only prayed that by morning Hange would have forgotten their earlier conversation. Levi was desperately trying to.

Erwin sighed heavily, hands in his pockets, "I hadn't pictured the three of us as bronze medallists."

"Hm. Can't win 'em all Erwin."

"No, I suppose not. Still, all in all a rather enjoyable evening."

The pair of them walked a while in comfortable silence. In spite of everything, Erwin had managed to keep himself together, which Levi was glad of; it was clear that he had spotted Hange's rapid deterioration, and wisely decided to keep himself from going down the same path.

"I was going to ask…" The taller man began, stopping in his tracks; they were directly outside his barracks.

"What?" Levi grumbled.

He hadn't realised there was yet more he could do for the man this evening.

Erwin smiled, "Don't worry, I won't keep you." He shrewdly eyed the shorter man, his blue eyes alight with some invisible intention.

Levi hated it when he looked at him like that…as though he could see right through him; as though aware of things about Levi that Levi himself wasn't aware of.

"I only wanted to know if you're getting any assistance with your paperwork, as we discussed."

"Next week. Petra's gonna help for a while."

Erwin nodded, "I assume she has excellent handwriting then, to comply with your high standards." He paused a moment, his expression unreadable, "Have a pleasant evening, Levi."

And with that, he was gone.

Handwriting?

Trust Erwin to go on about paperwork after a night out drinking. Did the man never have a day off?

When he eventually returned to their Special Ops barracks, it appeared that his squad had unexpectedly turned in for the evening; though, he supposed the haphazard state of Hange had significantly delayed his return.

He fetched a towel from the cupboard and made his way to the bathroom. On opening the door he stopped still. There. The faintest scent of vanilla.

Notes:

Just leaving a small note to say there probably won't be a chapter next sunday - life, it happens... but there should be one the week after :)

+ thankss to everyone who's been reading/ commenting/ leaving kudos so far it really makes my week!

Chapter 13: SOAP

Chapter Text

The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Sunday

Petra was a little embarrassed at how late she'd woken up…still, it sure was nice to have a day off after such an intense week. Also, having her own room meant no-one shaking her awake and chastising her. Bonus.

She yawned loudly and stretched, extending her arms and legs as far as she could, the faint low-level drone of a hangover beginning to murmur in her skull.

Oruo had seemed a little disappointed with the result, but Petra felt that fifth wasn't a terrible place to come out of everyone. The pair of them had answered their fair share of questions, though the real star had been Gunther, who, despite leaving before the results were announced, had gotten the lion's share of the team's correct answers (much to Eld's chagrin - he'd gotten none).

It was cold outside of the bed. She sleepily stumbled to the small mirror and rubbed her face then loosely brushed her hair, before making her way to the kitchenette, puzzle under her arm. Boy could she do with a coffee.

The common room was empty. A bit of her had wished she'd asked what her squad mates' plans were for the day…she'd really enjoyed the quiz with them the previous evening, and was kind of hoping at least one of them would be around to go to the Sunday market in town or something.

Oh well. She could maybe go by herself.

She stirred a drop of milk into her coffee and made for the table, stopping suddenly on seeing the tall dark figure of Gunther stood in the doorway.

In a heartbeat he hurried towards her, sweeping her up in the tightest embrace, her feet dangling above the floorboards and a slight panic about her as she tried to prevent her coffee from spilling with the sudden movement.

Someone had had a good evening.

After a few moments, he gently put her down, smiling timidly.

She blinked a few times, a little taken aback, "Aren't you meant to be feeding horses?"

He nodded, "Just got back."

Wow. What time was it?

"Oh." She smiled brightly, "Well, do you want some coffee?"

"Sure. Where'd we come by the way?"

"Fifth." She tittered, filling him a cup.

"Fifth? Eld's such an idiot."

An hour later and Petra was having one of the best days she'd had in a long time. The fresh air had blasted away her hangover on the walk into town with Gunther; they'd brought two baskets and filled them with all kinds of crap: ingredients for food in the week, extra coffee and milk, candles…they'd even bought a fresh bar of white soap for the Captain (and laughed at themselves for being suck-ups). The pair of them agreed that the trip was worth the expense if it meant they got to enjoy their time in their barracks more, plus neither of them wanted to go back to having both lunch and dinner in the mess hall, not now that they'd been reminded that food could actually taste good.

"So…" She started, hoping he'd catch her drift.

"So." He glanced over at her quickly and then immediately looked away.

He wasn't getting away with it that easily.

"Gunther." She stopped in the middle of the small street, "Did you uh…have a fun evening?"

He stopped and turned to her, his mouth pressed in a hard line. It was a funny image, his deadly serious expression under his woollen flat cap and the tiny wicker basket he was carrying stuffed with vegetables (mostly carrots). He looked like an angry farmer from a children's storybook.

Petra raised her eyebrows, anticipation fizzing through her. She was more invested in Gunther's love life than her own at this point.

"Did you…you know…" She nudged gently.

His eyes danced around, as though worried that the strangers in the street knew what they were chatting about, then he gave a single nod, instantly turning his back and walking onwards through the market.

Petra squeaked and chased after him.

He spoke lowly, "It was a good opportunity to, our barracks were empty…and James's room is shared."

Petra's whole soul was sparkling with joy, "And?"

"And?"

"How was it?"

He smiled, "Best sex of my life."

She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing, "Oh! Oh I'm so happy for you!"

In her excitement, she flung her basket-wielding arm so violently that an apple flew out of it, and she had to apologise to multiple strangers at speed as she she scurried past them to retrieve it.

She stooped down to pick up her apple, stopping in her tracks-

That looked like…was that…Captain Levi?

He was wearing a black suit with a grey shirt and his signature cravat, and was walking around a corner up ahead. He looked stern, even from this distance. He had to be cold in such a thin suit, not even a light scarf wrapped about him.

"Hey Red?" Gunther was calling over to her, "I'm going into the bookshop."

"Oh great…" She replied, somewhat mindlessly, before flicking into focus and yelling, "Wait in there, I'll be right back."

She pelted up the street on the Captain's tail, but it was only when she'd nearly caught up to him that she realised she wasn't sure why she'd run after him at all…

What was she doing?

She stopped and watched him continue down the street a little. She'd run pretty far…maybe she could just say hello? That wasn't weird was it? Just saying hello to someone you ran into in town?

Having convinced herself, she caught up to him once more.

"Captain!" She exclaimed, panting slightly, and he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Although…maybe it was weird to chase after someone for a several streets just to say hello.

He turned to face her, and she noticed his right hand was up at his chest, stowed inside his jacket.

"Petra." He uttered flatly.

For a few seconds nothing happened. Passers-by passed by in a blur and they stood, staring at one another, the Captain blank as usual and Petra with ever-growing embarrassment.

"SOAP!"

The word exploded out of her and she began rummaging in her basket, desperately trying to delay the moment when she'd have to catch his eyes once more.

"Here - I…um…" She held out the small white bar, her gaze pasted to the cobbled ground.

"Is that for me?" He asked, it was the gentlest his voice had ever sounded, and she tentatively moved her eyes back to him, "Only, my hands are tied right now."

"R-right sir. Sorry I…what - um-" She started. God she was blinking a lot, "If you don't mind my asking-"

Anticipating her question, he moved open the left side of his jacket, revealing a tiny, dozing ginger kitten, held up in his right hand against his chest.

Oh good lord. Her heart was fluttering like a small bird, and she didn't know if it was because of the little orange fluff ball he was holding, or the Captain himself. She did know that this day would go down in the history books as the most adorable on record. She blinked again in awe. He could never cease to amaze her.

"Relative of yours?" He asked dryly.

He glanced down at the small ball of fur in his hand. She could only stare at him, speechless.

"It was by the stream when I stopped to water my horse. Leg's broken…must've survived drowning."

He softly brushed the kitten's head once, and it mewed. Petra's heart was a puddle, having completely melted. She felt like she might cry. It was hard to keep any kind of normal expression on her face; she was positive that she looked like a gawping idiot.

"I'm taking it to a vet."

Breath staggered on its way into her lungs, "That's very good of you sir." She managed eventually.

Perhaps she'd get Gunther to take her to the hardware shop and she could stand by a paint colour chart, then they could work out the exact shade of red she'd turned. She knew Hannah and Jules would appreciate that level of detail in the forthcoming anecdote.

"W-well sir," She stumbled, "I better not keep you."

He stared at her a moment and eventually nodded, walking off down the cobbled path.

She didn't know how long she remained frozen in place, slap bang in the middle of the street, but it must have an inordinate amount of time, because a shop keeper came out to ask if she was alright.

Upon his return to the barracks in the evening, Levi could smell home cooking. He studied the light from the common room doorway. It appeared this was going to be a daily occurrence.

He stalled on his way over, listening to the occasional chatter from within. His squad needed their down-time. They didn't need their superior constantly watching them like an ill-tempered hawk.

Perhaps he should have kept the cat as a pet.

Tch.

What a ridiculous thought.

He was getting soft.

It had been such a long time since he'd actively sought out company, and even back then, those moments had come by rarely.

He marched himself back to his room and froze. On the ground in front of his bedroom door was a small bar of white soap, tied up with brown string.

Week Two - Tuesday

"Yeah, but I reckon we could be so much faster." Eld was nonchalantly stirring his coffee, "If we weren't doing this dead-weight schtick every time we were on the run, then I'd agree with you. As it is…"

"It will only make us faster in the long run. Haven't you heard of the sprinters who train by running through water?" Gunther responded.

"I think those people are known as swimmers." Petra tittered, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Oruo huffed, "I could come up with a formation so we could beat Mike's squad even with the dead weight on the run."

"Be my guest." Eld sipped his coffee.

"What would that involve?" Gunther asked genuinely.

"Well I…" Oruo blustered, "Haven't consolidated anything yet-"

"I think if you specifically focused on conserving gas until you actually needed to use it, that would be a start." Petra smiled, evidently thrilled to be getting her digs in.

"You use too much gas!" He yelled back.

"Good one! Your mouth uses too much gas!"

Eld shook his head, "Petra, that was poor."

She giggled, sipping her coffee.

"You're chipper."

"Captain!" Petra placed her cup down at speed and saluted almost frantically, smiling brightly.

Huh. This was new. The three men at the table shared a look.

He was stood in the doorway sporting his regular tired expression. Then, gesturing with a thumb towards the pot, "What's this, coffee?"

"Yes sir, you can…ok." She stopped herself as he was already pouring himself a cup, then he walked through the stunned room to sit at the head of the table by the rest of them.

Eld smirked. Well what did you know. Just over a week later, and here he was, the esteemed Captain, dragged from his own room to socialise; it seemed that everyone gave in eventually. He must not have slept at all last night. Why else would he lower himself to drinking coffee, the drink he'd once told Eld tasted like hot garbage water.

They all sat in silence for a while. None of the squad members were sure what to say to this new turn of events, so they remained wordlessly sipping their drinks, eyes on their Captain, who had yet to touch his.

"How was the Garrison yesterday sir?" Eld asked eventually.

The Captain hadn't been with them at all on Monday, due to prior commitments training Garrison troops…something to do with getting in their good books to boost supplies…Eld had tuned out when it was explained.

"Dull." He replied, finally taking a long sip of his coffee.

Eld knew it wasn't just him that was waiting intently for a reaction to the drink; the four of them were on tenterhooks.

The Captain slowly placed his cup down.

"…what are you all looking at?"

They collectively stared back at him with wide eyes.

Gunther cleared his throat, "Nothing, sir."

"Just…didn't realise you liked coffee, sir." Eld ventured.

The Captain drained his cup and stood up, "And I didn't realise you all had so much time on your hands."

He walked to the sink, washing his cup and the rest of them sprang into action, busily getting ready to leave for morning drills, like snooker balls after the first hit.

"Did he like it?" Petra whispered to Eld on their way out.

"Think so. You'd know if he didn't."

The afternoon's cleaning session was in full swing, and Eld was pouring different pungent liquids into the toilet ready to give it a determined and intense scrub.

"Tuesday, oh Tuesday! Cleaning restrooms day!"

Oruo dropped his broom and ran into the hall, staring through the bathroom door at Eld.

"Are you singing my song?"

Eld pulled down his cleaning kerchief, "It's catchy."

Oruo watched Eld momentarily in minor shock, then, shaking his head, stalked back off down the corridor to continue sweeping, and Eld returned to cleaning the toilet. The Captain had given him bathroom duty for a month following his Night of the Wraiths stunt. He was expecting laps of the grounds too so…it could have been worse.

"Hey Petra?" He called across the hall.

"…Yeah?" She shouted back from the common room. She was pressing the squad's uniforms using large pans filled with hot water over a sheet on the table.

"You might have to do the floor in there again. Oruo's cleaning style is minimal; he prefers to just sweep each room with a glance."

He heard her laugh bounce through the corridor, then a distant irritated 'hey!' from Oruo.

"How's bathroom duty? Squeaky clean?" She called back.

"Oh, you know; shit." He stood up, rinsing a rag in the sink, "Petra?"

"…Yeah?"

"After this morning's conversation I got to thinking…what if we beat Mike's squad's lap time?"

There was a pause.

"…what do you mean?"

"I think we should challenge them to a race."

—

Petra sighed. Oh Eld. Another harebrained scheme.

"Why?"

"Because we're the most elite squad, not them."

God damn it.

"Can't we just - you know - be the most elite squad? Why does it have to be a race?"

Eld and Oruo were suddenly in the doorway glaring at her.

"You don't think we could win Ral?" Oruo scoffed.

"Yeah man, what's the big idea?" Eld raised a brow.

Honestly. These two.

She frowned at them, "If you wanna organise a race in your free time, go right ahead."

It was times like these she wished Gunther was around to help talk some sense into them. Unfortunately he was on gear maintenance duty today, which took him out of the quarters. Petra had enough on her plate without worrying about some moronic competition for no real reason, where the only prize was 'gloating rights'.

Eld had apparently returned to the bathroom and was humming rather tunelessly. Oruo cleared his throat; he'd taken a step into the common room and was stood partly leaning on his broom… 'casually'.

"I uh…" He began and she shot him a bemused look.

"What's up?" She said, neatly folding one of the Captain's newly ironed shirts and placing it with care on the pile.

He was scratching the back of his head, "After we're done cleaning for the day - after dinner, I was going to go to the tavern."

"Ok…" She lifted the heavy pan and placed another shirt under it.

He coughed and took another step towards her, "Did you, want to come too?"

"Oh is the squad going? I'd love to, but I'm assisting the Captain with his paperwork." She replied, sliding the pan evenly across the fabric. He was being so weird.

"H-his…" He stalled, batting the broom between his hands, "Uh…why?"

"I lost an arm wrestle." She said plainly, she was focused on moving the pan across a sleeve, those bits were always tricky.

"Right…" He said, lingering awkwardly a moment, before returning to the hall.

She was late. Had she forgotten?

Levi dripped some wax onto the back of the envelope and impressed the scout's seal into it, adding the letter to the pile.

He hated being kept waiting.

He'd have to give her laps. She'd been late to sparring with Clara's squad the first time he'd ever seen her, he couldn't let her make a habit of it.

Insubordination was insubordination.

It had penalties.

Lateness was intolerable.

He returned his pen to the ink pot and went to the door, opening it to a pair of large orange-gold eyes.

"Captain! I'm sorry I…" She was carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups, "I thought you'd want some tea."

He blinked. Oh.

She smiled shyly, "It took me a little longer than I thought to get everything ready sir."

He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly realised he had nothing to say. The admonishing words weren't coming. Instead he stood aside and allowed her through with her tray and she set it down on the desk.

He wasn't used to someone being so thoughtful.

No.

It shouldn't matter that she'd brought tea, or if she was thoughtful, she was late, and lateness was intolerable.

"You're late." He grumbled from the doorway.

Her movements slowed and she turned around to face him, the bright energy of her arrival seeping away with each passing second.

"Yes sir." She spoke quietly, disheartened.

His jaw was tight. He firmly shut the door, striding over to a cabinet and began pulling out forms and folders, all the while she remained completely still, eyes down. He thrust a handful of papers under her nose and she hesitantly took them.

Then he sat down in his chair, frowning at the small teapot, as though it were responsible; somehow facilitating the brewing of his conflicting feelings. Petra slowly turned back around to face him again, awaiting any instruction.

"Don't," His eyes flicked to her, then back to the teapot, "Be late again."

That was it? That was all he had to say about it?

"Understood sir." She replied. She looked to the seat in front of her in question and he nodded, picking up his pen once more.

It wasn't the first time he'd overlooked her insubordination, and it was pissing him off. He just…couldn't seem to bring himself to penalise her.

As he wrote, he could hear her removing the tea leaves from the pot as quietly as she could. Each one of her movements was so gentle, it was difficult to imagine that she'd killed any titans at all; or even that she could kill them. He found it was becoming harder and harder to picture her in that setting, surrounded by pain and screaming and death. She seemed to be the antithesis of all those things. A single buttercup in a bloody field of anguish.

Why would someone like that join the scouts?

He glanced up at her; she was concentrating on pouring tea perfectly, an endearing little frown line between her brows. It was then that he noticed how small her hands were, how clean her fingernails; not a speck of dirt under them. He blinked.

"There's a pen in the drawer." He said, returning to his work, "I need you to update the medical incidents folder for our squad then fill out the re-stocking forms. You know what we're low on don't you?"

"Yes, Captain."

And that was that.

The minutes ticked on, the candles burning down a measure as they sat filling out various forms and reports, the only sounds the delicate rustling of papers, the scratching of their pens. It was, for all intents and purposes, as peaceful as if he were working alone, but better. He noticed that the warmth of her presence stopped him dwelling on the tedium of the tasks, and found that he didn't mind doing the work at all. It felt less like work than it ever had.

He heard her breathe in deeply and he stopped writing, his eyes flicking up to her once more. She was biting her lip, apparently reading over the same section of a form multiple times, the same appealing little frown on her face.

The light of the candles caressed her delicate features and glittered around the amber of her eyes, which shifted to his in that moment, and they held each others gaze, unblinking for a few seconds, connected by some invisible thread.

"Everything alright?" He asked.

She thought a moment, re-reading the paper, "This form Captain…" She picked it up from the desk, "There's a section for requesting basic food rations for our barracks. It looks like previously the squad has only requested coffee and tea…"

"And?"

"I just wondered if we could request a bit more than that sir, now that the squad is cooking more often."

There was that hopeful look, those sparkling doe eyes.

Damn it.

"Request whatever you want. Doesn't mean we'll get it."

She smiled gratefully, "Thank you sir."

He poured himself a second cup of tea and observed her gaily fill in the form. Such a basic action, yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. He set his jaw. Why was he so drawn to her? Like she was a giant flame and he was a horrible moth. He scowled. The tea was tepid. It had been sat there a while.

"I didn't know you could do cryptic crosswords, sir." She said, her pen scratching away.

"I see. You think that because I grew up underground I'm some kind of moron."

She stopped dead, a look on her face of pure mortification, "What? No sir, of course I don't think that."

The colour had washed out of her and her mouth was slightly open.

Levi picked up his pen to continue working, but could feel her worried gaze on him still.

What did she want from him? Tch. Maybe getting her to assist him was foolish. He was already sick of her stupid pleading eyes and her insufferable goodness. It was distracting and it was slowing him down.

"I'm sorry if I offended you sir, I didn't mean-", they caught eyes again, "to…"

"Finish that form and then turn in for the night."

She said nothing, just slowly returned to her work.

Good. The only reason they needed to talk to one another was if there was something on a form she was unclear about. The tavern was for small talk, the office was for work. He couldn't let her levity and mindless chatter sidetrack him. It had happened one too many times already.

Hadn't he recruited her to his squad to make his life easier?

Yet here she sat, with the audacity to occupy him, to draw his attention away from the things that really mattered. He'd considered keeping a damn cat as a pet. He'd strayed too far from sanity's path and was in danger of being lost between the big ass trees of folly. Thank the lord he'd found his way back.

She stood, placing the form in a folder and nodded succinctly.

"Good evening, Captain."

Then she walked to the door.

"Petra." He said firmly.

"Yes Captain?"

"Tomorrow morning, don't join us at the circuit. You're running laps of the grounds until lunch."

"...sir?"

"I don't care if you were making tea or struggling to shit. Lateness is unacceptable."

She swallowed, "Yes sir. Of course."

In a moment she was gone, and he was left alone with the pot of cold tea in the ever-darkening office.

Chapter 14: The Letter

Chapter Text

Week Two - Wednesday

"Eld! You've been in there about five hours! Hurry the fuck up asshole!"

Eld smirked to himself. He'd come to learn the exact time that Oruo woke and left his room for the bathroom, and made sure to get in there just seconds before him. He'd been doing it for weeks now, and it never got old. Also Oruo never seemed to learn and wake up earlier, which he found endlessly amusing.

He unlocked the door with a click, towel round his head, grinning shamelessly at Oruo, who shoved past him in a rage.

It was too easy to get him wound up, Eld almost felt bad about it.

He whistled random notes as he made his way to the common room, now fully dressed and ready, and stopped in his tracks when he found it empty.

Huh.

He scratched his head. Was Petra still in bed? Damn. He'd really been taking her for granted and was shocked at the disappointment he felt on not seeing her humming, smiling and flitting about the kitchenette. He'd completely come to expect it, though it'd only been just over a week.

The reality was, he'd been spoiled. They all had. And Petra deserved to have a couple extra minutes in bed now and again, just as much as the rest of them. He just wished he'd asked her how the coffee maker had worked before now.

He could probably piece it together from the couple of times he'd been there when she'd done it. It would be kinda sweet to be able to make her a coffee for when she came in, a nice surprise for her, she'd done so much for all of them. They actually finally felt like some kind of team.

He took apart the contraption and examined it on the counter. He couldn't remember it having so many different sections.

"Do you need the blueprint?" The Captain's low voice growled as he came into the room.

"Do you have the blueprint sir?"

The Captain sat at the head of the table, an air of expectation about him.

The room was still fairly dim, the sun was rising later and later in the day, and the space was rendered a little bleak without Petra's cheeriness.

He picked up a part, this was definitely the bottom, and the water definitely went in the bottom…or the middle. No the bottom. That's right. He squinted at it. He could feel the Captain's gaze on him.

"I'll wait until Petra's up. She's better at this." He said eventually, placing the part back down on the counter.

"She's already gone."

"Gone sir?"

The Captain remained blank. Jeez. He was really going to make Eld do all the work.

"Gone where sir?"

"She's running laps of the grounds."

She what?

Eld frowned, "Why sir?"

The Captain was eerily still, but blinked once, "Insubordination."

Eld opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wasn't going to get anything else out of this man. He couldn't think what she could have done to deserve that…seemed a little unreasonable. Was she that bad at filling out forms? Perhaps it was because of her handwriting, he knew that Captain was notoriously particular about things like that.

Man, he hoped she was alright, the grounds were pretty huge.

Ten minutes later and Eld was resentfully pouring out a grainy cup of coffee, shaking his head. He really thought he'd got it right that time, but it was as bad as he'd ever made it.

"Captain?" Oruo began, he had since made his way into the common room, and was waiting impatiently for his morning brew.

"…"

"Sir, there's a rumour going around that you saved a kitten's life."

Eld almost spat out a mouthful of disgusting coffee, "Wait-"

"Is it true?" Oruo demanded, leaning forward, his hands on the table.

The Captain's face didn't even flicker, "Does that sound like something I would do?"

The squad members glanced at one another, perplexed.

"No sir." Eld replied after a few seconds.

"Well then."

Petra pulled herself through the trees weakly, her energy levels dangerously close to zero.

Her morning run about the grounds had made her unacceptably sweaty and uncomfortable, which meant she ended up using the whole of her lunch break to shower and get herself together. It also meant she hadn't spoken to a soul all day so far, and because they were running the course silently (as usual), that didn't look that likely to change; though she'd since caught the sympathetic looks from her team mates at various points in the the run and wondered if the Captain had told them where she'd been in the morning.

He was right of course. Lateness was unacceptable. It was foolish of her to try and make tea, she should have known there wouldn't have been enough time to do that before she needed to be at his office. It was much more important that she was reliable and carried out her tasks as ordered. She knew that.

She just…wanted to do something nice for him, and his enjoyment of tea was just about the only thing she knew about him. He worked so hard and so late all the time.

Perhaps he liked working hard and spending all his time alone. Making his own tea. Sitting quietly in a dark room.

Her heart ached. Something about that just didn't ring true. Everyone needed company sometimes, friendship. It was like she'd seen something at his centre, behind his stoic mask. It was something that he'd deliberately hidden…something that for whatever reason he couldn't or didn't want to share, but she'd glimpsed it at the market that day when he'd held the tiny kitten in his arms. The same undefinable thing was in his eyes when she'd challenged him to an arm wrestle, and even when he made her chamomile tea the night before the Commander's observation. Whatever it was, she found herself continually focusing on it, unable to let it go; like a prism, when the light shone from the right angle, there were so many colours.

Perhaps it was because, in those rare moments, he'd allowed her to see it.

With each passing day she felt more and more at home within her new squad; she looked forward to their coffee mornings, to their lighthearted bickering and inconsistent cooking. But more and more she also longed for him to join them; to linger a little more than he did after drills, for him to find some solace in the squad's company…in her company. When he'd shown up the previous morning and drank coffee with them, though it wasn't even five minutes, her heart had done backflips.

It was completely ridiculous. She was nothing to him but a member of his squad, and 'Humanity's Strongest' could absolutely look after himself. He didn't need some girl badgering him, bringing him tea, buying him soap. If he wanted that, he could get himself an assistant, like Hange had. She'd have to start squashing those instincts…her interest in him. She was a professional.

Her joints screamed and her muscles trembled with every movement through the trees. She caught Gunther's eye and they took out a three metre dummy swiftly, working together faultlessly. The rough and ready days of her previous squad were beginning to feel like a distant memory, now it was like being a part of a well-oiled dummy-slaying machine.

She sprang off a tree trunk and swooped down towards the neck of the next ten-metre dummy, a human dart, primed to cut the nape. She whizzed through, but her cut was too shallow and she scowled, cursing and flipping back around to try again.

As she tumbled round, ready to fire her hooks, there was a familiar high-pitched squealing sound, and she realised it was coming from her own gear.

Really?

Oh balls. The next thing she knew she was falling fast, the sky and high branches of the trees rapidly shrinking away from her, with no idea how far she was from the ground. She was hurriedly repositioning her hooks, angling them towards a near tree trunk, when something - no, someone slammed into her. Her face screwed up with the impact and the right hand side of her body was stinging from the force.

There was a faint scent of white soap.

Tentatively, she opened her eyes to see the Captain's fine chin, thin brow, icy sharp features, his dark hair moving gently in the breeze as they continued onwards. He was holding her bridal style and she lay wilted and exhausted in his arms, observing him. In that moment, it was hard to deny how beautiful he was.

She could feel the slight movements of his arms, the thudding of his heart in his chest, his warmth. It was proving challenging to keep her mind from obsessing over how close their bodies were; and she wondered if he could hear how erratic her breathing was, which was entirely because of her shock plummet through the air and no other reason. She was sure of it - not because she actually was sure of it - but because she had to be. She was a professional.

His motions were so smooth, even holding her in this position; it was odd that he hadn't stopped to adjust, put her under his arm: the standard practice for carrying another soldier through the course.

He didn't look at her once.

Conversely, as the woods blurred by them in a smudge of reddish brown, and the cool air stung their faces, her eyes never left his face. On feeling her stomach lurch at a sudden change in direction she didn't blink. On hearing the odd shout from her other team mates she didn't look away. It was captivating to be so close to that focused, steely gaze, but not have its chilling attention. She found she was remarkably content to watch him concentrate.

It turned out to be a blessing that she'd run out of gas. After her strenuous morning of running, she was now not having to do any work whatsoever, and was instead enjoying an easy-on-the-eyes easy-ride through the trees. A small part of her dared to hope that the Captain had planned it in such a way.

She was jolted out of her trance as they came to land on a branch, and he wordlessly passed her over to Gunther, who, strangely enough, also chose to carry her bridal style down the course.

"How're you feeling Red?" He queried, "Took a bit of a tumble back there."

She smiled, "Yeah, that was a bit hairy, but it was over in about three seconds so…how's the run been going? I haven't really been able to see."

"Not bad. We're getting better and better. We'll definitely be able to take Mike's squad."

"Oh god not you too."

Gunther laughed gruffly, "It's not a bad idea, we can easily get our reputation back as the top squad now we have you on the team. For a while there we were the laughing stock of the officers."

"And the Captain's on board with this race?"

He frowned, "We haven't asked him yet, but I can't imagine he'll object. He has his pride."

The next thing she knew she was passed on to Eld, who once again held her bridal style as they swung through the trees.

"So, what'd you do?" He asked, squinting in concentration as he focused on switching direction.

"Not quite sure I know what you mean…"

"To get laps of the grounds. What'd you do small fry? Make a short joke? I figured he'd be able to take them from you."

She snorted, "Hell no. I wouldn't dare. Why - have you done that before?"

Eld faintly smiled, eyes straight ahead, "Not explicitly."

Petra laughed, "Wow."

"So?" He urged.

"I was late for helping him with paperwork."

Eld tutted, lightly shaking his head, "Petra, Petra, Petra, rookie error man. Next you'll be telling me you turned up in civvies."

Petra blanched, remembering her first meeting with the Captain in his office, when she'd done just that.

Eld glanced at her, aghast, "Tell me you didn't…"

She laughed, "No, no. Not yesterday anyway…"

In the blink of an eye she was passed onto Oruo who also carried her in his arms in the same way.

"Why is everyone carrying me like this?" She fumed, "And don't you dare say it's because I'm a woman."

Oruo was deeply focused as they made their way through the trees, "Petra, we're gentlemen. We care about your comfort."

Petra was getting pissed off; like this was some kind of country barn dance, and she was being passed partner to partner and swung about as the limp prize. She huffed.

"It's good practise for when I have to carry you like this on our honeymoon."

She scoffed, "For god's sake Oruo."

"I figured what with your nagging me all the time you'd jump at the chance to be my wife."

"I doubt your thousands of suitors would allow that."

Oruo smirked, "And where would the lady want to have her honeymoon?"

She considered a second, "I've never really thought about it. I guess in this job not many of us make long term plans."

"Go on - humour me."

She laughed sharply, "Ok then, hmmm….somewhere exciting and full of adventure. Maybe beyond the wall?"

—

Levi surveyed the line. They were stood in the large field by the edge of the trees just as the sun was going down, casting a splendid gold and pink light.

The afternoon run had once again gone smoothly, the squad were getting used to hanging back with whoever had run out of gas, and getting much better at cooperating to take out the dummies. They were paying attention, and working towards one another's strengths.

He was satisfied, they were running exactly to his improvement plan, but that didn't mean he could outright praise them. He caught Gunther's eye,

"Try not to talk when you're working dispatch."

Gunther nodded and Levi took a step down the line to Eld,

"Do less. You're not always the soldier in prime position to take out a target."

"Yes sir."

He moved on a pace to Oruo,

"Spend more time looking around. You get in the way."

Oruo frowned, "Sir."

A final step brought him to the end of the line.

"Petra…"

Had her eyelashes always been auburn?

She blinked, and was looking at him warily, waiting for him to continue, her soft features glowing in the early evening light. Why the hell was she always glowing?

She apprehensively filled the silence, "…yes Captain?"

"Too slow to react. I shouldn't have to catch you mid-air."

She nodded, "Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

"So…does he always look like that?" Petra asked, beating some eggs for their dinner of…glorified eggy bread.

"Like what?" Eld replied, scraping some chopped green onions into a hot pan.

"Like he's watching a cat eat his lunch."

"Ha!" Eld barked a laugh in shock and knocked half of his onions on the floor. She heard the faint grumbling chuckle of Gunther, who was once again reading on the couch.

"That's a much less scary way of looking at it." Eld had crouched down and was collecting his spilled onions.

"He was an underground thug Petra," Oruo was leaning against the counter, distractedly tapping the sharp point of a kitchen knife with his finger, "a drug lord wouldn't touch his lunch, never mind a common house-cat."

"Either help us or get out of the kitchen!" She snapped.

Oruo and remained where he was, tapping the knife, nonplussed. He was really taking up a lot of space in the small kitchenette, and had yet to assist them with dinner at all.

Petra began dipping slices of bread into the egg, sighing, "It seems like even when we do a good job he reacts the same way."

"No, it's more like," Eld reflected, "That you know when you've done something badly. It's like life that way…survive a titan attack and your 'reward' is that you're still alive…so it makes sense to me that he doesn't praise us."

"I thought he was a drug lord." Gunther's voice came suddenly across the room.

Oruo turned to face him, "Huh?"

Gunther put his book down, "You said a drug lord wouldn't touch his lunch…but he was a drug lord wasn't he? In the underground."

"Yeah, some kind of high roller," Eld said, stirring the onions, "I always thought it was a black market kind of deal…a spleen seller?"

"Spleen salesman, please." Oruo jeered, "But no, he was a thug, tried to steal something off the Commander I heard."

Petra watched them chatter, eyebrows raised as she placed the first slice of bread into the pan. This was riveting - had these guys seriously never discussed this before? She realised that she knew absolutely nothing about the Captain's past (she didn't know all that much about his present come to think of it), but she'd been told that he'd grown up in the underground, and the phrase "shady business" was thrown about a bit.

Eld tapped his chin, "Oh really? What he steal?"

Oruo made a face, "How should I know? Maybe he stole the Commander's spleen, jackass."

Gunther contemplated, "I didn't hear anything about stealing, but I did hear that they got into a scuffle and that's why he joined the corps."

"I guess no-one really knows…" Petra said, flipping the bread over, "All the stories I've heard are different."

"It doesn't surprise me that you imbeciles are clueless, but I'll have you know that my information is from a good source. Straight from the horse's mouth." Oruo bragged.

"Was that the Captain's horse or just a regular horse in the stables?" Petra smirked, placing the first slice on a plate.

"Petra's right Bozad." Eld said, "For all we know he was just an angry janitor who showed promise with a knife. Now chop some damn chives."

Week Two - Thursday

Levi was feeling a lot better today than he had the last couple of days, despite not having slept at all. He'd spent almost the entire night analysing the squad's stats; the progress they'd made was significant, as he'd suspected after their run of the course the day prior. There was nothing like hard data to back you up, no doubt Erwin would be impressed, Hange too; they often wormed their way into his meetings with the Commander.

Petra was certainly a fast learner. She sucked marginally less sparring this week than she had the week before; she was good at taking instruction and attentive.

Her eyes narrowed and in a flash she kicked his inner right thigh with her left leg. It was the first hit she'd got on him since their one to one sessions had begun, and it was strong. He'd been trying to teach her about her left dominant advantage, and now she was beginning to make use of it: her natural stance meant that an opponent's weak spots were much more easily exploited.

"Good." They stopped and he rolled his neck, "Again."

This time, when she moved to kick, he'd already stepped out to her right, around and out of her reach. He grabbed her right arm, and swept his leg under her and she fell on her ass.

"Avoid taking the fight to the ground. At all costs." He said, gazing down at her.

She stood gingerly rubbing her backside where she'd fallen. She looked a bit deflated - did she think that she was going to start winning after getting one hit on him?

They ran a few more bouts, and she managed on a couple of occasions to skim him - just - though he was being generous with her. He couldn't push her too hard yet or she wouldn't learn anything.

After one of her jabs missed, he grabbed both of her wrists hard and pulled her close so they were face to face, holding her strongly in place. Immediately she began scrappily and frantically trying to pull away, squeaking as she kicked at his legs, which were steadfast.

"Stop." He ordered and she ceased, coming back to stand, still blazing, her chest rising and falling with the effort of her struggles. She was no buttercup, she had thorns.

"What next?" He asked, pressure on her wrists.

Their eyes never left each other. Once again he could see her tenacity, like a lit match. The same enthralling energy she exuded when he'd first seen her on the ODM run a couple of weeks ago. The same energy which explained why she signed up as a scout.

She pressed her lips together, "Uh - I don't-"

And now the match was burning out.

"Focus." He instructed, his voice was hard, "What next? If this happened, what could you do now?"

She searched him, possibly hoping he would just give her the answer. Then her energy faded with a sigh and she dropped her eyes, "I don't know sir."

"So. You're giving up?"

"I…"

"Aren't you a scout?"

She glanced back up and something flashed through him, something he couldn't place but his neck was hot. For a moment her eyes were copper and giant and full of shining light, then in a heartbeat she head-butted him, her forehead smashing him hard in the nose.

"Agh-" He winced and let go of her arms, backing away.

"Oww…" She was rubbing her forehead, groaning quietly.

He quickly brought his hand down from his nose and glanced back towards her. She stared back, panicked.

"Nicely done. Though, you had more than enough time to work that out."

Her posture relaxed the smallest amount; still, she looked like a deer caught on the road.

"But next time answer the question. I didn't ask for a demonstration."

"S-sorry sir."

He nodded curtly, "At ease."

—

Holy fucking shit. Eld was losing his mind. Petra had just head-butted the Captain in the face. That took some guts. He was surprised the Captain didn't just deck her straight afterwards. He'd since left the gym for his office, as he often did, and Eld called her over to the three of them.

"That was bad ass." He shook his head, holding his hand up for a high five, which she hesitantly took.

"I don't know what came over me." She said sheepishly.

"What happened?" Oruo asked, gathering his coat and shoving a rations bar in his mouth.

"These two losers were facing the other way." Eld explained, "Floors yours booster-seat." He took a swig from his water canteen.

"Ah…I er…" She flushed a little, "Might've…head-butted Captain Levi in the face."

Gunther smiled and Oruo smarted, "You hit him in the face?!"

"Oruo, you're spraying food everywhere."

Eld patted her shoulder, "You have my utmost respect. Hard-core. Do that again when the titans are around and they'll run away from you."

"Hard to believe we went six months without any of us managing to do that." Gunther commented, throwing on his jacket.

"Speak for yourself, I had plenty of opportunities, I just decided not to take them." Oruo boasted.

"You're disgusting! Swallow your food before you talk!" Petra scolded as they made their collective way out the door.

Gunther was looking forward to his evening. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a meal in town, and he was beyond thrilled about it. It was made even more exciting by the fact that they hadn't seen each other at all the past couple of days.

The dating etiquette was going to change now; it always did after you'd slept with someone for the first time. In light of that, he'd picked a bunch of violets from the wood's edge on his way back to the barracks. He needed to shave again and get ready, and he was hoping that the flowers wouldn't be too much, though he suspected they'd go down well. James had an affinity for bright, colourful things.

As he opened the door he paused, accidentally kicking a piece of paper. Strange. He bent down to retrieve it…not paper, a sealed red envelope. Someone must've slid it under the door.

He could hear Oruo pestering Eld in the common room:

"What was this arm wrestle about anyway?"

"Some dare man. I dunno."

"Every Tuesday and Thursday evening? Pfft."

Gunther gathered up the odd envelope and walked into the common room,

"Anyone know what this is about? I found it by the door." He uttered, holding it up.

Eld looked up from replenishing the firewood, "What's that - a letter? And…flowers?"

Shit. Gunther'd forgotten he was holding the violets as well…

"Yeah…they were outside the front door…"

"Let me see that." Oruo snatched the envelope from Gunther and turned it around in his hands, "There's a 'P' on the front."

"For…Petra?" Gunther frowned.

Oh no. He should have gone to his room and inspected it himself first. If this was some kind of love letter from someone to Petra…there was no way she'd want these two bozos knowing about it. His heart was sinking. He'd accidentally been a bad friend.

"How weird." Eld had appeared next to them, "Some kind of love-note?"

"Looks that way."

"I highly doubt it's for Petra. I say we open it." Oruo drawled, eyes plastered to the envelope.

"Not for Petra?" Eld was incredulous, "You halfwit, who else out of us has a 'P' anywhere in their name?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe Ca-P-tain Levi?" Oruo sneered, "It could stand for Post."

Eld was shaking his head, arms crossed, "They should study you."

"Put it on the table. It's Petra's decision what she does with it." Gunther interjected.

"Them." Eld eyed him, "The letter, and the flowers."

Oh yeah. He'd have to apologise to James. Petra deserved some flowers anyway, now that he'd unintentionally told the guys about her love-letter. He laid the violets on the kitchen counter;

"I'm gonna shave then I'm going out."

"Aren't violets a symbol of eternal love?" He heard Eld say as he walked away down the corridor.

Gee. She was on time at least. Actually she was a bit early. She hovered outside the Captain's office door on edge, wary of what might be waiting on the other side.

So now, not only had she insulted his intelligence; his roots in the Underground City, but she'd actually smacked him on the nose…

She shook her head. Well it couldn't get much worse could it? She made a pact with herself not to speak unless spoken to. No talking. Not a syllable. She wasn't to even breathe loudly. And if he asked her a question, she wasn't going to hit him in the face. She'd just answer the question with her voice, like a normal person.

If she managed those simple things, then she could call the evening's work a success. She'd kept to them in the afternoons horseback formations after all. Though it did help that she was nowhere near him for the majority of that, and there were horses in the way so she couldn't have hit him even if she wanted to. Not that she wanted to. She didn't want to hit him. Or touch him in any way. Well…

Oh. Wow. Once again controlling her own errant thoughts was proving to be a full time job.

She took a deep breath and rapped on the door.

Nothing.

Was he not in?

She rapped again. Where else could he be?

"Captain?"

She winced. Darn it. She'd already broken her own pact.

She pushed open the door and took a step into the room, it was dark, empty, and spotless as always. Ok…

Behind her she heard the door creak. She span around. There he was, stood in the doorway, cleaning kerchiefs around his head and neck, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups.

"Thought I'd save you the trip."

That's…

When she didn't respond, he walked past her and placed the tray on the desk.

Well…that was…unexpected.

After a dumbfounded moment, she flickered to life and began lighting candles.

Nothing further was said. She'd sat at the desk and taken out a pen as before, and he'd handed her a stack of forms after pouring out some tea. Then they were sat noiselessly filling out paperwork and occasionally sipping tea for the best part of an hour, and it took Petra most of the that time to calm her spinning mind.

"Petra." He said at long last.

She didn't stop, or look at him, "Yes Captain?"

"Re-write up Eld's report from Monday. It's a mess." He held out some pages covered in Eld's scrappy writing. She hesitantly stopped writing and took the pages from him.

He sure was a stickler for neatness.

"Is that all sir?"

"Why do you ask?" His blue-grey eyes gleamed, "Not going to hit me again now, are you?"

Petra was not one to back down from a challenge.

"No sir." She cleared her throat, holding his gaze, "I think that might be a little…on the nose."

His eyebrows twitched, and she could have sworn she saw the corner of his mouth move upwards a fraction, but if it had, it reverted instantaneously.

"Good."

They continued working in silence, until the candles had all but burned out.

Chapter 15: Truth

Chapter Text

Week Two - Friday

Eld got up earlier than usual, deliberately forgoing his morning shower-spat with Oruo because he wanted to catch Petra alone. He needed to know who'd written her that letter, brought her flowers. Today at least, that was more interesting than Oruo's rage.

She arrived minutes later, readjusting the belt on her harness across her chest.

"Oh, morning Eld." She smiled.

"'Sup little P - have a good evening?"

She raised a brow, "Little P? Not so sure about that one."

"Nuts. I already changed it on the board games leaderboard." He leant forward across the kitchen counter, "Did you - uh - find anything of interest in the kitchen when you got back?"

She had her back to him, filling up the bottom section of the coffee maker in the sink, "Of…interest?"

Why did everyone make him work so hard all the time?

He gestured vaguely with his hand, "You know…a red envelope…maybe some flowers…?"

She flipped around and eyed him with some intensity, "Did you…?"

He was lost, "Did I what?"

She rushed towards him, then, in a whisper, "Were they from you?"

Ah. Whoops.

He laughed awkwardly, hand to his neck, "No - really - not! No - ah - they were just left at the door and-"

"Yikes - try not to sound so horrified."

He began to feel a twinge of guilt, but caught her wink and smile and relaxed a little. She returned to the stove, spooning coffee into the middle section of the contraption.

"So…no idea who it's from then? What it say?" He prodded.

Gunther entered at that moment, paper in hand, swiftly followed by the Captain, and they made their way to sit at the table. Huh. Coffee mornings were becoming more communal than dinner time.

Petra pulled the letter from her pocket and unfolded it, reading;

"'My darling sweetest damselfly

You floated through the air

My thoughts now somewhat occupied

With your copper hair…'

The handwriting was truly awful, so you'll excuse me for thinking it was from you…"

"Is this that strange letter you got?" Gunther queried.

She nodded, "Mm, some flowers too…" Her eyes flicked to the Captain, who, of course, didn't move or respond at all.

Eld rubbed his eyes, "Weird…and kinda sappy. Did you send it to yourself?"

She threw a tea-towel at him, "Yes. I sent myself some flowers and a love-note because I'm just that sad." She rolled her eyes, "Now, who's having coffee?"

Eld and Gunther bustled around her, taking their cups; Gunther bringing one to the Captain at the table.

For a few minutes they were all quiet in thought; the Captain reading Gunther's paper.

Eld drummed his fingers on the table, "Somewhat occupied eh…"

"In some old texts the damselfly symbolises light, happiness and courage." Gunther ventured, "I'll bet whoever it is is well read."

Eld raised his cup along with his eyebrows, "Oh - you want in on the bet?"

The Captains eyes flicked up from reading, "Bet?"

Petra scowled, "You guys bet on who sent my letter?"

"Hey, come on half-pint - it was just a harmless way for me to extort more money from Oruo." Eld stroked his chin, "Actually he already owes me twelve silver coins because he bet me the letter wasn't for you Petra…which it clearly is. Personally I think it's someone from one of the elite squads."

"Elite squads? What makes you think that?" Gunther looked bemused.

Eld looked at Gunther pointedly, "Just a hunch." He shrugged, downing his coffee, "So, want in?"

"Hmm…" Gunther considered, stroking his chin, "No stamp or address or anything suggests it's definitely someone from within the scouts; someone who knows where Petra's new quarters are. My money's on her ex-squad."

"Alright." Eld held out his hand, "Shake on it."

"And they've made this stupid bet on whether or not it's someone from your squad." Petra said tiredly.

Jules squawked, "Like who? Dude, I think you or one of us would have noticed if someone wanted to get down with you. You were in our squad long enough."

"Well hang on minute." Hannah began, tapping a spoon on the edge of her soup, "Not everyone is that obvious with their crushes. If they're taking the time to send a note to you, that says to me that they're shy."

"That's not a terrible point…" Jules muttered, "Didn't Gerd spar with you a lot? Maybe Gerdy-boy flipped you to the ground and fell in loove."

"Yes!" Hannah continued, "He stole the bout but she stole his heart; and now he's been living for months with his terrible little secret, running from the room whenever she's near so no-one spots his boner."

Petra banged her spoon on the mess hall table, "Excuse me? Terrible little secret? That is so rude."

Hannah and Jules cackled.

Petra pouted, "And nice try, but it was Clara who put us together for sparring, he wasn't there out of choice."

Jules elbowed Hannah, "Sure he wasn't."

Hannah's eyes widened, "Oh! Oh! What if it's from Clara?!"

Petra prickled, "No way in hell."

"Petra my love, my dahling, my damselfly!" Jules declared, "Please accept my humblest apologies for being such a cold bitch to you…turns out I actually love you."

Petra immediately covered her face with her hands, "Urgh. I haven't seen her at all since the quiz and I couldn't even bring myself to smile at her from across the tavern."

"Hey baby girl." Hannah implored her, "It's in the past. Our squad is fine, honestly."

"For real." Jules continued, "You don't need to worry about us. And definitely ignore Clara for the rest of time if you want - lord knows she deserves it."

"Yeah, tear up her love letter and return it - I'll deliver the scraps to her myself!" Hannah laughed.

No doubt about it, Petra was lucky to have so many incredible friends in the survey corps.

"Did you ever consider…" Jules began, a sneaky look in her eye, "That the note was from the Captain?"

She started to feel very hot. She gazed out at the pair of them from between her fingers. She almost didn't hear Jules's next sentence over the pattering of her heart.

"Dude. Oh my god."

She ripped her hands away from her face, "No - it's not - I don't-"

"Woah - she's totally into it-"

"Shhh keep your voice down!"

"Holy walls Petra!" Hannah clapped a hand to her mouth, then continued in a whisper, "Do you have a thing for Captain shortass?"

"No! No. I honestly don't." Now her head was pounding along with her heart, "I was just going to say that it's not from him, it can't be, he has the neatest handwriting in the world, and that letter was a mess. And poetry? Captain Levi? Come on." Her mouth was so so dry, "Besides, he would never - I mean - he's not. He isn't…" She tailed off to two pairs of expectant eyes.

"…isn't…what?" Hannah prodded.

Petra cleared her throat, "Captain Levi would never do something so unprofessional."

"Didn't he used to be a thief or something?" Hannah chortled.

"Just because he might have been a thief doesn't mean he's unprofessional. He might have been a professional…thief."

She bit her lip while her friends tried to stifle their laughter.

"Ok, I wasn't gonna do this yet, but I think we're ready." Jules stated, "It's truth time."

Hell no.

Petra stood abruptly, "Oh, would you look at that - lunch is nearly over."

"Petra, sit your tiny ginger ass down."

Uh oh. Was there any ale around? Or…something stronger? She slowly returned to her seat, looking at them both warily.

"Alright. So, your truth." Jules's dark eyes glimmered with fervour, "If you could get away with it, as in, you weren't breaking any rules, and he was game…

Would you fuck Captain Levi? "

"Jules!" Petra screeched.

Hannah swooped in like an MP interrogator, "Petra, answer the question."

"…I…"

"Yes or no?"

The very air seemed to chill and stop, and it felt as though everyone in the whole mess hall was leaning in to listen.

Her palms, which a second ago were bone dry, were immediately covered with sweat and she covered her face once again, whispering,

"…yes?"

Jules stood up from the bench, "I KNEW it!"

"Holy fuck!" Hannah squealed.

"Both of you shut up! People are looking!"

Fuck.

She'd just said yes. She would. She would fuck her Captain…

She screwed up her face.

"Woof. She's giving a new meaning to serving under Humanity's Strongest." Jules sassed.

Hannah guffawed and leant over the table towards her, "Really, Petra? He's so severe and scary. He's not famous for being a looker either."

Well this was terrible.

Jules was pensive; "I kinda get it - I mean not looks wise, but he's so strong, just imagine the positions he-"

"Alright! Please please shut up. I answered your question. Now let's talk about literally anything else."

"What? No way." Jules shook her head, "Since this whole 'Levi squad' thing began, I always thought you might have had a little soft spot for him, but the day of that arm wrestle I was like, oh, she's into it, I can tell."

She took a deep breath in, "Look. I'm not - I'm not 'into it' or whatever you seem to have decided. Just because I said I would, that doesn't mean I'm going to - or even that I want to…it's just…been a while you know?" She raised a brow, "I think…maybe there are lots of scouts I would consider right now."

That was true. The sparks she'd felt, the heat, the tingles when they'd sparred, her galloping heart when she'd been cradled in his arms as he carried her through the trees, and even occasionally when she'd sat across from him in the office…it was all a simple byproduct of her current dry spell. She just needed to get laid; he was merely the most viable option of the soldiers she was spending all her time with at the moment. That was why she'd answered the question that way. That was all it was.

"Ah!" Hannah chirped, "What she needs is a night on the town."

Jules smiled, "Let's do it! Tomorrow night; we'll find you someone tall and less grumpy: someone you can bang without getting fired."

Petra giggled. Maybe this wasn't such a terrible turn of events after all.

The evening had rolled around, and Levi stepped out of the shower and dressed himself in a clean uniform. When you didn't sleep at all, you didn't have any need for nightwear.

The light under the common room door was shining once again. He stalked towards it, and pushed it open. Gunther was frying something, Eld was washing up a chopping board and Oruo was writing a letter at the table.

No Petra.

Hm.

"Evening Captain - joining us? On the menu tonight: potato cakes and sauerkraut soup." Eld announced.

He examined the room for a moment.

"Why not."

Gunther and Eld shared a look, eyebrows raised.

Levi went to sit by the table, but on noticing the fire was dying out, employed himself briefly getting it restarted.

The room was snug and warm again when he took his seat at the head of the table, interested in the men around him who were quietly busying themselves with mundane tasks.

"This your recipe?"

"It's my Grandmother's sir." Gunther said, stirring the large pot and tapping the wooden spoon on its edge, "She made this soup for me and my parents every winter."

Levi moved his attention to Oruo, who was focused on his letter, "Writing home?"

Oruo glanced up, momentarily unsure how to respond, "…yes Captain."

"The post has been delayed recently. Funding cuts."

"Oh…has it?"

Why did people like this 'small talk' so much? Dull as hell.

Eld placed the pot of soup in the centre of the table, "You're talkative today sir."

"Am I?" He was genuinely asking, and not intending for it to sound quite as cutting as it came out. Eld gave him a slightly baffled smile.

It was peculiar how comfortable the atmosphere was, even without Petra's physical presence, her influence was felt. Three weeks ago if you'd shown any one of the four of them the current picture of the room, they would have told you you were insane.

"The hell is that?" He gestured to a smallish blackboard leaning against the wall; each of the squad member's names were chalked onto it…well, the three men's names were chalked onto it and another, slightly more smudged one, that said 'damselfly'.

"Oh er," Eld's hand went to his neck, "That's the new board games leaderboard sir. I brought it in here so I could tack it up this weekend."

Hm. From playing chess alone to a whole games leaderboard. Quite the improvement for Eld.

Minutes later, they were all sat around the table ready to eat. Levi raised a spoonful of soup to his lips and closed his eyes. It was delicious. Hearty, salty and rich. The potato cakes were crispy, well seasoned and light. It was quite something that Gunther had managed to get so much flavour from such cheap ass ingredients. If this was what his squad's cooking was like, it wasn't surprising that Petra wanted to request additional rations, he only wondered why Gunther hadn't offered to cook for them before.

He glanced over at Gunther, who froze, then gave him a small nod, and watched as the taller man visibly relaxed.

"Captain, we have a proposal for you." Oruo began, his small hazel eyes centred on Levi.

"Go on."

Oruo cleared his throat, and moved his hand with a flourish, "We want to reconsolidate our status in the scouts, as the best of the best-"

"-now that we're in a position to do that." Eld interrupted, and Oruo scowled, impetuously moving a bit of potato cake around his plate with his fork.

"We want to challenge squad Mike to an ODM race." Gunther declared.

There was a pause. Levi looked down to his delicious meal, then back up to his team, "I see. Why not."

Week Two - Saturday

Sawdust floated through the workshop, making the air feel particularly dry and dead. The new recruits watching the demonstration seemed bored out of their minds, which was a shame, because Oruo was putting on a real show.

"Hammer." He bossed, holding out his hand, and Petra placed it in his hand.

He began hammering the wooden arm into the dummy's body at the shoulder joint, while she held it in place. He had his sleeves rolled up and was making a quite the scene out of his task, grunting at every given opportunity. Petra almost wanted to offer him a wheat stem to chew. It really wasn't as hard as he was making it look.

Having finished hammering Oruo stood tall again, wiping his brow and then casually throwing the hammer over his shoulder in what was particularly dangerous display of useless dramatics and recklessness. Petra gasped and ran after it.

"And that's how it's done. Though, if you're any good out on the ODM runs the arm won't be there for very long. You want a real challenge then I'd suggest you stick an extra few nails in there to really make it hard to cut through, but I'll bet you're all still too green for that. Give it time. Now pick up some parts and get hammering. My assistant and I will be keeping an eye on you to make sure you're doing it right. Any piss poor construction and it's laps. Got that snivel-drops?"

The recruits dispersed to separate areas to begin assembling dummies.

"Your 'assistant'?" Petra hissed, returning to the demonstration workstation with the hammer.

"Act like an assistant and that's what I'll call you."

She kicked him hard in the leg and he cried out, causing a few rookies to look over to them, stunned.

"Get back to work." He barked humourlessly.

They began walking around the large workshop, giving a cursory glance to each working pair.

She liked that she'd been placed with Oruo for Saturday work; annoying as he was, his heart was (usually) in the right place. He'd joined the survey corps for the same reason as her after all, at least, that's what he'd told her when they graduated.

There was a nostalgia about it; they used to spend every day together, to the point that her parents began asking how he was in their letters, and she was pretty sure his family letters asked about her. Petra's mother had put in the odd suggestive question about their relationship, which Petra continually dismissed; her mother, ever the traditionalist, had never made a secret of her desire to see her daughter settle down and she harboured a glaring disdain for the scout regiment; she would hound Petra to come home until her dying day.

A pair of new recruits waved them over, there weren't quite enough hammers for them to complete their task, and so Petra gave them the one she was holding, smiling brightly.

From behind her Oruo cleared his throat, she pulled a face and the rookies suppressed giggles.

"What?" She asked irritably.

"No quiz tonight is there?" He queried, as they returned to making their rounds.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"And you aren't doing paperwork with the Captain?"

"Oruo, what do you want?"

"I thought we might go for a drink at the tavern together…"

Her eyes widened. Wait…was he…asking her on a date? She froze in place.

When she didn't respond immediately he coughed and shuffled, eyes on the working rookies, "You know, for old time's sake."

His worn face became rather pensive.

Right, of course. Silly her. Obviously he wasn't asking her on a date. Working alongside the new recruits made him nostalgic too.

She felt a pang of sorrow. There was almost no-one left who'd joined the scouts from their graduating class; it was something that they'd never talked about, but on occasion at military funerals, they caught eyes. She looked regretfully to the ground.

"Actually, I'm going out to a bar in town tonight with my old squad."

"Ah." He mumbled and kicked up some sawdust.

"But, you should come too." She smiled genuinely, "Maybe the guy's'll all want to come, make a night of it."

He stopped, hands in pockets and gazed at her.

"Yeah. Alright."

Levi'd always thought the officer's common room was too posh. What did they need all these fancy-ass sofas for? If the scouts were so desperate for money, why didn't they just sell off these plush old dust bags? Wasn't like anyone spent that much time here, too much shit to do.

Hange, Moblit, Mike, and Nanaba were babbling and lounging to varying degrees across said needless sofas, but Levi had sat by the fireplace and chosen a basic hard wooden chair, to match his hard drink.

The quarters had been empty when he returned to them early evening, all the torches were out and not a single member of the squad present, even in their rooms. He'd checked, and hated himself every second he was doing it. For the past week it had been like his mind was at the end of a short, rapidly swinging pendulum, veering between wanting to seek out their company (one of them in particular) and wanting to ignore them entirely and enjoy his solitude. The speed and constancy of the switches between these two feelings left him feeling deeply disorientated and sick. He imagined it was contributing to the pounding heart problems he was having of late.

Well. Each year of life brought with it a new challenge; he'd made it this far, and survived worse than some stupid and irrational conflict of emotions. Earlier in the week he thought he'd dragged himself out of this forest, but not venturing back in was proving a lot more difficult than he'd expected.

He scowled into the flames.

"You seem quite preoccupied by the fire Levi. What is it about fires I wonder?"

Erwin hadn't kept himself together this evening. He was sat across from Levi in a dark green velvet armchair, nursing a glass of red wine, to match his red face.

"What a dumb question." Levi muttered, sipping his whiskey.

"They say that the very stars in the sky are but distant flames. I've always liked that thought. Our ancestors built fires not just to stay warm, but to tell their stories around them. I would venture to say that that makes fires," he glanced at the fireplace, "the stars of the earth. Naturally then, the stars become the storytellers of the sky."

Here he goes. Yet another drunken ramble about some poetry shit.

"Since the dawn of man we've been gazing into the night sky and gazing into the fire, searching for their wisdom. I'd imagine, as someone who grew up in the underground, you're uniquely able to appreciate why the dark, cold night sky needs its stars; without them, it's rendered rather bleak, wouldn't you say?"

"Don't you have work you should be doing?" Levi retorted, "There has to be a better use of your time than spouting off to me about some pointless garbage."

"Practical as ever." Erwin's blue eyes shone with the firelight, "Sometimes we can become so absorbed by the fire, by the stories we tell ourselves, that we forget what it is we're looking at."

"I see." Levi blinked.

"Do you?"

"No. Couldn't give a damn." He uttered swirling his amber drink.

Week Two - Sunday

"Alright - let's go." Eld said walking towards Petra and Gunther who were stood by their horses, laden with a couple of baskets each for their cool outdoor picnic.

"No Oruo?" Gunther uttered, though there was something in his tone that suggested he was expecting it.

"Or Captain Levi?" Petra added, trying to suppress her disappointment.

They couldn't have gone anywhere yet, she was sure of it. Everyone had the day off, and both their horses were still in the stables.

…what could he have to do today?

"Nah." Eld shook his head, "Knocked on both their doors but didn't get any response from the Captain - figures."

They all mounted their horses.

"And what did Oruo say?" Petra asked.

Eld smirked, as they began trotting up to the path, "He didn't really 'say' anything. He grunted and then told me to fuck off. I put a note under each of their doors though, so they know where we're off to in case by some miracle they decide to join us."

Once they reached the path they began to gallop up towards the fields. There was a small prettyish woodland not twenty minutes ride from their grounds, with a nice field for the racket and ball game they'd brought. Petra'd initially worried that it was too cold for an outdoor picnic, but a thick grey scarf and some giddy childish excitement later and her worry had evaporated; then she was cheerfully packing the gingham-lined bags of food and enjoying the cold morning air easing her headache. That was two Saturday nights in a row she'd been a bit overindulgent with alcohol…

They arrived and tied the horses up, Petra began laying out a blanket on the edge of the woodland while Gunther and Eld removed the bags from the horses and started unpacking them, Eld giving each of the mares an apple.

"Do either of you know what actually happened to Oruo last night?" Petra said, once they'd gathered on the blankets, pouring steaming coffee from a flask into some cups.

The two men looked at one another guiltily and she stopped pouring.

"Ok. What aren't you telling me." She stated plainly.

"Well…" Eld's hand moved to his neck, "We think he hooked up."

"Think?" Gunther raised his brow, "If he didn't hook up, he was doing some spectacular role-play by himself in his room."

Petra was in disbelief and nearly dropped her cup along with her jaw, "No. No way."

Eld guffawed, "Never have I been so glad that I don't share a wall with that guy." He took a bite out of a small round of bread.

Gunther looked rather harrowed, "Yeah. Well."

This was amazing. When she'd first joined the Levi Squad, a tiny bit of Petra had worried that she would be missing out on some dishing and gossip, but so far this squad was proving just as lucrative in that area as her previous one.

"Wow. You'll need this then." She laughed, handing Gunther a cup of coffee, "I hate to say it, but now he has some evidence to back up all his womanising claims. Did you see who it was? I don't think I really saw him at all after we got there."

"I didn't get a good look." Eld started, "but I'm pretty sure she was short, and brunette?"

Gunther nodded, "Sounds about right."

"You would know." Eld retorted and Gunther shuddered.

"So what?" She asked, "Did he spend the whole night flirting?"

"Like someone else we know?" Eld glanced at her emphatically, and she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

She looked at the ground, pressing her lips together. Her evening hadn't exactly gone as she'd planned it with Hannah and Jules, despite the best efforts of everyone involved.

Gunther was squeezing a pear, checking its ripeness, "He actually spent most of the night following you around - surprised you didn't notice. He said something about wanting to talk to you, but you were always with different folk from your ex-squad. He only stopped when you were chatting to that guy…Wally?"

"Walter." She frowned, "But I kept calling him Walford."

The two men laughed.

"Walford isn't a name is it?" She asked.

Eld shook his head, "No."

"Darn."

Walter was nice enough. He was a Garrison soldier, tall, dusty blonde hair, green eyes, a strong nose. Handsome. Friendly. She'd enjoyed chatting to him and the conversation flowed so easily that she was convinced she was interested in him, until they kissed, and suddenly she knew it wasn't right. Her heart sank remembering it.

Something was wrong with her. All night she'd flirted with various beautiful people that had been sent her way by Hannah or Jules and when Walter showed up, she was sure he would be the one to quench her intimacy drought: he had looked exactly like one of her ex-partners. He ticked all the right boxes. On paper, she was swooning, but as memories of their kiss and his hands on her waist began flooding in, she shivered. She'd had to turn him down. It was so far away from what she wanted, what she really wanted…

Get it together Ral.

She had to stop thinking about Captain Levi; the sparks he seemed to send flying around her nerves. She determinedly gulped down the last of her coffee and turned her attention to her two new friends, who were now batting a ball about a metre or so away from where she was sat. They'd succeeded before in distracting her, and right now, she needed distracting.

"Well Eld, you're certainly better at that than you are at pub quizzes." She teased.

"Huh?" He turned to her, blindly hitting the ball back to Gunther and it got him in the knee.

"Ow." Gunther grumbled clutching his leg.

"I wasn't that bad at the quiz." Eld replied, "I got that one about the marzipan didn't I?"

Petra giggled, "No! You didn't!"

"Aw man."

"And after all that blustering about how sure you were that we'd win - you didn't get a single answer right!"

"Ah but Petra, sometimes it's about the journey, not the destination."

"How wise." Gunther rebutted, having found the ball and hit it back to Eld, getting him in the arm.

"Ow shit!" He bent down to pick up the ball, "You all had fun didn't you? You can't sit there and tell me I was of no use to the team."

"I'll sit here and say whatever I want." Petra sassed, biting into the squidgy pear, "Ugh."

"There's a reason the Captain picked me as second you know. You gotta know where each person's strengths lie. And you gotta keep the team focused and on course."

Petra smiled. Perhaps Eld and Gunther could keep her focused and on course.

Chapter 16: The Fool

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Everything was swirling, light, white, clouds, cotton sheets, powder. The trace of a laugh singing a sweet song, eyes searching, blind to a haze of billowing fog, then the warmth of sunlight flush on his face. Out of the brightness exploding a long room, a picturesque farm cottage, giant fire roaring in the hearth. Women and men aligned sitting on sofa after sofa, whose faces changed moment to moment, all faces he recognised, all suddenly knitting, all comfortable. A clinking sound, by the fire she's beaming, vanilla, a pot of tea painted into her hands, engulfed in flames yet still so clear, a light within the light. She hands him a china cup, her eyes the spit of the tea within it, an orange posy floating, slow and directionless, he lifts the cup to his lips-

Levi jolted awake feeling something wet on his cheek.

Huh?

Not only was he lying down on his front across the bed having dragged all of the blankets towards himself, sort of cuddling the mass of them, but he was drooling.

Like some filthy, disgusting rabid dog.

He sat up, stressed, firmly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his breath staggering. The panic and erratic breathing was just about the only thing that was usual about this morning so far. He violently loosened his cravat and ripped it out from his collar. He'd only put it on in the first place because he'd been certain he wasn't going to get much sleep, if any.

In addition to all of the above, he had no idea of the time, but the sun was well and truly shining in the sky, blinding through his window, which meant it was a lot later than he usually woke up, and a lot later than he'd planned to wake up. Damn it. And if he hadn't revoltingly drooled all over himself and his bedding (all of which would now need washing) who knows when he would've woken up.

He was completely disorientated. Shit. He needed tea. No. Before that he needed to wash. And launder. And change. He stood up at speed, then sat back down again, frowning.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself at all; pushing the strange dream under the rug of activity didn't feel like it was going to work. It was too abnormal. He couldn't remember the last time his sleep had been uninterrupted for so long, and he felt well rested; energised even. Similarly, he couldn't remember the last time he'd dreamt of something that wasn't the stinking intestines of death, the stubby, filthy grasping hands of beasts and the rolling heads of his comrades.

…so she was in his dreams now? Distracting him during the day wasn't enough for her?

Still, the dream was much more pleasant than what he was used to.

He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, for the first time noticing all of the crumpled papers scattered over the bed and floor, the ones he'd been checking through before he so glamorously slumbered all over them. They'd all have to be rewritten now. And there was only one person at the moment who was helping him with re-writing reports.

Pull it together.

He sniffed. Having a nice dream and a full night's sleep was surely a good thing, but he felt like he'd been indulgent. He didn't deserve it. And he didn't need it. He was fine without those things.

…

Hm?

By the door - another piece of paper - this time uncrumpled. He walked to the door, picked it up and scanned it; the squad had invited him to some picnic. His lip curled.

It took a couple of hours but he'd made it to the common room table, having washed his bedding and uniform, showered, and changed into fresh clothes. Now he was rewriting the crumpled reports with a pot of tea. After his unconventional morning, he had to restore some balance to his day by doing as much work as he could. He wasn't going to need her help with rewriting the papers; he'd see to that. Apart from anything else, he wasn't sure how to explain the state of them.

"Do you want tea?"

He heard a woman's voice in the hallway, one he didn't recognise, and stood abruptly from his writing.

The unnamed woman made her way into the common and froze on seeing him.

"C-Captain Levi?" She stumbled.

She was fairly small, though still taller than Levi, with a short brunette bob and big brown eyes. He was certain he'd never seen her before.

"And you are?" He growled, eyeing her sharply.

She looked terrified. Good.

"Lina, sir - Captain."

He said nothing, pinning her to the spot with his gaze. Lina eh? She shuffled her feet, completely unsure of herself, her eyes darting all around trying to evade his intensity.

"It's in the top cupboard, see if there's any-" Oruo almost crashed into her as he came through the door, "Captain?!"

Oruo looked like he'd seen a ghost. He pushed past Lina and cleared his throat, "I should introduce you to Lina, sir, she's,"

"We've met." He said flatly.

Oruo nodded once, and after a baffled moment, loosely put an arm around the brunette, before guiding her out of the room, "Why don't you and I journey into town for tea, leave the Captain to his important work."

She looked back towards Levi as she was being ushered out, "N-nice to meet you sir."

He heard them chatter a little more, the sound of Oruo biting his own tongue and yelling out, and then the front door closing quickly.

That was somewhat disturbing.

He went to sit back down, but noticed dust in the rays of light travelling through the windows. If it was in the air, then it would be on the floor and on the table. He scowled. The flowers in the small yellow vase which had appeared along with Petra were wilting too. A petal drifted mournfully to the ground. How had he not noticed any of this before?

He stood, opening the window and weighting the papers down with the teapot, he'd come back to them. Then he was pulling things from the cleaning cupboard in a kind of frenzy, rapidly donning the apron, gloves and white bandanas and returning to the common room.

He'd work from the floor up. He began by sweeping, then scrubbing the floors on his hands and knees vigorously. It clearly hadn't been done properly this week. He glowered. Oruo.

Likewise it looked like the walls hadn't been washed, which was all the worse since now the kitchen area was in constant use. Tch. This was going to take longer than he'd thought.

He froze, hearing a knock at the door. Was he still dreaming? He waited, unblinking, wondering if it was just his mind was playing tricks on him as it had done overnight, but seconds later, the knock came again.

The hell was going on today.

Standing sharply and throwing the balled-up washcloth to the ground, he stormed to the front door and tore it open to see a freckled, mousey haired scout stood nervously before him in the hallway, a bunch of violets bundled in his arms.

"Yes?" He snarled.

"Oh - hello - you must be Captain Levi - I don't think we've met." The man sounded a little strangled, "My name is James, sir."

Levi blinked once, and slammed the door, cursing under his breath as he walked back down the hallway. Four scouts. He'd recruited four scouts to his squad. Yet suddenly he found himself harassed by a bunch of random wet-looking brats.

Week Three - Monday

Having gotten much better at the springboard spin cuts, the Captain had begun showing the squad a different style of cut, intended to blind titans. It was a revolutionary technique, and if they all mastered it it would make taking out targets a lot easier, but Eld was struggling due to his raw hands. He didn't find the movement itself particularly difficult, but the red blistering skin on his palms made gripping anything properly sting like a bitch, and he wasn't the only one; every single member of the squad was struggling for the same reason.

The Captain had of course noticed and was treating them…appropriately. At this point they must have collectively been called every derogative name under the sun.

Following their picnic the day before, they'd gotten back to a sparkling common room, fresh yellow wildflowers in the vase, and the Captain furiously writing up reports at the table. Eld had commented on their superior's more casual attire, (under his cleaning apron he'd been wearing a simple grey long sleeve, no shirt or cravat) but quickly learned that Captain Levi was not in the mood to be spoken to, or indeed interacted with in any way. Before ordering them to scrub the entire barracks again until their hands were raw, he'd silently glared at them all for several minutes with steely contempt…an attitude which had rolled over to today.

"What a shitshow." He uttered sharply, throwing his blades to the ground. "Tch." Then he swept out of the room, not dismissing them or saying anything further.

They remained in an awkward and baffled line for a while, no-one quite sure if they were allowed to leave.

Oruo huffed, "Eld, you're second, what're we doing?"

"Dunno." Eld scratched his chin, "I guess let's clear up here and make our way back to the barracks. I wanna see if I can make egg rolls with the ingredients we've still got."

"How are you finding being on Levi's squad?" Hange asked, smiling widely, "Keeping clean? I hope he hasn't been too unapproachable. He really is a fountain of combat knowledge, you should do your best to learn all you can from him."

The day's light had ebbed away and the wall torches had been lit, casting dancing fires across the warm water of the bathhouse. It wasn't long after Petra had arrived that she'd spotted Hange, talking to Anna and another brunette scout she recognised from Squad Mike, who Hange informed her was called Lynne. Anna and Lynne were chatting intensely nearby, enraptured by one another.

Petra showed Hange her raw, red palms, they stung a little whenever she dipped them into the warm water; "If he keeps making us clean like this, I don't think I'll have hands by the end of the week."

Hange laughed, "That won't be very useful for your race against squad Mike. Lynne was telling me all about it. It's very exciting - I've asked Moblit and Nifa to help me look into how we can capture data from it. We're looking to see if we can find commonalities in the movements and skills of our most proficient scouts as they go head to head in heated battle - if we can synthesise that information, we can possibly start training our new recruits accordingly." They grabbed Petra's bewildered shoulders, "Just imagine the potential for change! Using your wonderful skills the scouts will get better and better!"

Petra gave a confounded smile. Hange's mind was truly something to behold, a hurricane of possibilities.

"…do you know how you'll go about it? By sketching out our movements? Or maybe by keeping a record of our gas usage?"

Hange's brows raised, "Oh! Yes! If we can factor in how much gas each soldier uses given the length of the course, and somehow monitor which movements use the most gas, then we can work out a way to make gas efficiency part of our regular training. Yes, the fastest soldier who used the least gas ought to be a good place to start - great idea."

Did they just give her credit for their idea? Petra blinked several times. It did sound somewhat feasible, if they had the spare soldiers to track it. Plus it was nice to know that the silly little race might help to improve the function of the survey corps as a whole. That made it much more worthwhile than just 'to prove we're the best squad' or whatever stupid reason Eld wanted to race for.

They continued, hand on their chin, "We'll also need to figure into the data how many dummies that particular soldier took out, in other words, how valuable they were to the squad overall throughout the course - though I'm not quite sure how the race is going to work just yet. I'll need to talk to Erwin. Hmm…but if number of targets eliminated is included in the research, then it means the data will need to be stratified based on what it is we want to teach and to who. It's important that we recognise the varying strengths of each soldier; the soldier who was the fastest, who took out the most dummies and who used the least gas are unlikely to all be the same person."

Possibly, though Petra could think of one soldier who might tick all of those boxes.

"…mmhm." She hummed, encouraging the scientist's monologuing.

"That's right - perhaps we should be assessing the new recruits with that in mind. Which type of soldier are they likely to be? What do they provide for a squad? Brute strength? Speed? If any new practices are going to be implemented, all of those things need considering."

"Data like that would make it easier to put together squads in the first place, wouldn't it?" Petra pondered, "Maybe if all the squads were put together with some kind of considered skillset balance there'd be fewer casualties."

Hange nodded, deep in thought, "We can hope it'd help. Though unfortunately expeditions are so rarely predictable in any way, and there's only so much planning and training we can do for them. You know how it is, it's not uncommon while we're out there for the Commander's whole strategy to go out the window!"

Speaking of the Commander, there was something about the way Hange was talking that reminded Petra of him. They seemed both fixated on the specific details of improvement, but simultaneously aware of the bigger picture; they were hopeful, but without losing sight of grim reality. A fine and tricky balance to strike.

"Take the new titan traps for example," They began, "It's impossible for us to accurately test their functionality without a real titan - which we won't have until we go beyond the wall. We'll likely plan experiments with them down to the minute, but the probability of the second half of that plan even happening at all is extremely low! Even with that uncertainty though, it's abundantly clear to me that the potential benefits of testing them in the field are worth the risks of doing so. Any work we can do to tip the odds in favour of survival is good work."

They beamed widely again, clutching at Petra's shoulders, "Thank you for thinking through all of this with me, it's been a great help. I can only imagine how tired you are from all your intensive training. If you ever need to vent about Levi, I'd be more than happy to oblige you." They winked.

Petra raised her eyebrows, still reeling from the torrent of information that had just been hurled at her, "Oh - er - thanks. But I doubt I'll need to. He runs a tight ship but I guess that's why he gets such good results."

Hange grinned, "Absolutely - I hear your squad's stats have improved by the boat load. No doubt that's a reflection on you just as much as it is Levi."

The water was hot, but she felt her cheeks grow hotter. She had to be bright red.

It wasn't long until she was on her walk back to the barracks, the heat of the bath still radiating through her body under her clothes. The deep relaxation and warmth of her muscles with the cool air hitting her cheeks was an inviting sensation; she felt happy and alive, if a little tired. She'd never done so much theorising in a bath before (she wasn't sure she'd done any), but she once again found it to be a pleasant surprise to be conversing with Hange, they were endlessly interesting and enthusiastic.

It was a great joy to play witness to the speed of their mind, and it gave her hope to think such talent was on side; how could the scouts fail in their mission when they had such brilliant brains spearheading them?

She smiled to herself. Maybe one day she'd feel comfortable enough to ask Hange questions about the Captain's past…the things he liked…

And there she was again, thinking about him.

She'd spent a large portion of the day worrying about him; unable to help herself. He'd spent the whole day being excessively petulant and difficult to be around, but it hadn't put her off in the slightest, rather, she found that she became increasingly concerned with his wellbeing. There had to be something she could do to cheer him up; she'd even had an urge find him after drills and ask if he was alright, if he needed anything…but that was surely a fool's errand.

It was a complete mystery: what was it that had put him in such a terrible mood the day before? And why had it carried on to today? Their quarters were spotless, they were fully stocked on tea, and generally performing well as a squad too (as well as they could given the state of their hands)…she was at a loss.

Once again her brain cycled around. This interest had to quashed; he didn't need somebody fussing around him. In fact she was pretty certain that that would go on his list of dislikes if she ever asked Hange.

She took in a deep breath in of the cold evening air; wishing it wash her mind of her fixation: as she breathed out, so too would she exhale her continual thoughts of him.

Easier said than done it turned out.

At that moment she was stayed by the sound of wood being chopped. In the near distance, the Captain's short figure was poised with an axe. She stood and watched as his small but powerful frame crashed the axe down into the wood, splitting it cleanly in two. He wrenched the axe from the base stump and slowed, clocking her presence some feet away.

Her focus was so complete, so intense, that she just about forgot everything around her. She could have been stood for seconds or hours watching the the flecks of silver flitter around his irises, the only movement that came from him. Were it not for her breath condensing on the air, she might have convinced herself she'd died on site, held in an amazing standoff of fantastic symmetry, two souls seemingly lost in their curiosity of one another.

She collected herself with a further breath, then the chill of the night came crashing over her along with sudden, awkward reality. He raised his chin a touch and she feverishly saluted, turning on her heel, half-running away.

How long had she been staring at him like that? She shuddered, mortified.

Her heart was in her mouth. She took herself straight to bed, not uttering a word to her squad mates.

Week Three - Friday

Eld was deflated on his return to the barracks for the evening. He'd stopped by the main office to see if there was any post for the squad, and there was just one item: a small parcel for Oruo.

He then found out that both his letter to his family, one with Petra's writing on it, and a couple that Oruo had attempted to send had been returned; having never been sent in the first place; they'd only made their way to the post building in town and back again. He'd demanded them back and now held them along with Oruo's small parcel as he entered their quarters, gritting his teeth.

The office worker told him that many soldiers' letters had been being returned of late, due to increases in stamp prices, which had gone up because of service underfunding. Simply put, none of them had paid enough postage to get their letters sent.

Fucking service underfunding. Eld snorted. So what now? Only the rich could send letters? Last time he checked one stamp was enough to send one lousy letter. Soldiers should get to use the service for free anyway.

His family would be worried, it had been such a long time since they'd heard from him, and now he found out that the letter he'd sent them almost three weeks ago had been sat stationary in a brown sack in a dark room, unopened and unread. What was more, no-one had thought to notify him of it. It made him quietly mad, which was quite something; Eld prided himself on his ability to keep a cool head.

And that was just him, his family, his life. What about Petra and Oruo's families? What about the other soldiers whose letters hadn't been sent?

He placed the small pile of letters and parcel on the kitchen countertop and sighed, raiding the cupboards for any old bottles of beer. It'd been a shitty week so far. With each new morning the Captain's mood had barely improved from the one before, and they were being put through the wringer daily. Their breaks were shorter (if they even got them) and it didn't seem to matter how well they performed, they were forced to repeat exercises over and over until the sun had well and truly set. And that wasn't including the new cleaning schedule.

The team themselves were getting along better everyday, settling into their dynamic extremely well; but for Eld, this week at least, the evenings had somewhat returned to the loneliness of the past six months.

Petra had been off somewhere every single evening - even when she wasn't assisting the Captain with paperwork, she was always back late and he'd barely seen her outside of coffee mornings and drills.

Gunther similarly had been disappearing somewhere, and wasn't returning to the barracks much at all, not even to read his nerdy elf-books. When he'd asked them both where they'd been one morning, they were spectacularly evasive. It was only adding fuel to his little romance theory; which they were clearly trying to throw him off the scent of with silly red letters and flirting with blonde Garrison soldiers. Surely they'd trust him enough to tell him about it one of these days.

Then Oruo…Oruo was around, but he wasn't all that willing to spend time alone with Eld. The couple of times they'd interacted it'd been fairly brief. He'd seemed strangely despondent since the weekend too, and had not been reacting well to the squad's constant teasing about his night of passion.

He looked to the wall where the blank games leaderboard was nailed up and shook his head. He'd been too optimistic. And now he was torn between finding the chess set (to once again play alone), and knocking on Oruo's door to tell him about the returned letters; both options left a bitter taste in his mouth. He took a swig of beer.

It wasn't so bad was it? After all it'd only been a few short days since they'd been out on the town together. He'd just have to suggest more group activities. And their race, which had now been formally approved by the higher ups (and was becoming an increasingly involved event) was happening tomorrow…

A cough disrupted him and he noticed Oruo in the doorway.

"Alright?" Eld asked.

Oruo shrugged, then his eyes flicked to the countertop, "What's all that?"

Eld sighed and took another swig.

"Letters. They've been sent back - some bullshit to do with postage costs going up. Oh and there's a parcel for you."

Oruo's face contorted, moving through several expressions; rage, confusion, upset, before he stormed to the counter and picked up the pile, flicking through the letters.

"Fuck. Fuck." He grumbled as he read each new envelope, "Is there any more beer?"

Eld nodded, and once again raided the cupboard, pulling out another bottle. He opened it and left it by Oruo, going to start up the fire. He could hear the other man murmuring something under his breath as he threw a match into the kindling, but knew better than to ask. He grabbed the chess set from the corner and began laying it out.

"Erika! Pissing-"

Eld looked up at Oruo again, to see he'd opened the parcel and was holding what looked like a large deck of cards.

He raised his brows, speaking lightly, "What's the deal?"

"Pissing Tarot cards." Oruo breathed, exasperated.

Hah. That was a new one. The Bozads: family of mystics.

"Is that…are they for you?"

Oruo grumped, "In her last letter to me she wrote that she would send me a set. Course, If she'd got the one I'd sent back, she'd know I have no interest any of that spiritual stuff." He paused, hand on his chin, "Having said that, she really should know that anyway."

"Sister of yours?"

"One of them."

"Huh."

It was strange, but he hadn't pictured Oruo with siblings; they'd never really discussed anything personal like that before. He'd seemed like the only child type, (Eld's mother had always said "only children are self-absorbed")…though the more he thought about it, the more obvious it was that Oruo had siblings. He was loud in a way that implied a person who'd spent a significant portion of their life shouting over others. Hmm. Perhaps his boastfulness and competitiveness came from a place of sibling rivalry…

Eld returned to laying out his chess set, after a few minutes noticing that Oruo hadn't moved from his position, and was sort of staring emptily into the room. They caught eyes for an awkward and confused second, then Eld continued setting out pieces and Oruo speedily turned his attention to drinking his beer.

Eld pulled out a chair, sitting with his back to the fire, surveying his black and white wooden kingdom of solitary diversion. He squinted, picking up a white pawn and placing it down with a clack. He picked up a second black pawn and-

"I've never seen anything so sad in all my life."

Eld jolted, then frowned, pawn in hand, "I hope you're talking about that pile of returned letters."

Oruo sniffed, "I'd have thought you'd be the type to be curious about these tarot cards."

He'd made an attempt to sound bored, as though trying to convince Eld that he wasn't personally interested in the tarot cards; rather amusing, given that Eld was happy enough to play chess by himself and Oruo was the one stood around doing nothing.

Eld twiddled the black pawn between his fingers, "Can you even read them?"

"She's left several pages of detailed instructions."

Eld placed the pawn down and looked back at him. He pressed his mouth into a hard line. He was split; he didn't want to give Oruo the satisfaction, but it did sound somewhat entertaining, and he had just been lamenting his recent few evenings of solitude.

"Fine. Let's have a go then."

Oruo shuffled over and sat opposite Eld, who began clearing away the chess set.

—

"It says…you should really think about getting a haircut."

"Fuck off."

There was a pause.

"Does it actually say that?"

Another pause.

"No. But you should."

"Man, just tell me what it means."

Oruo cleared his throat, "So according to Erika's notes…" There was some paper shuffling, "the Moon card is about a past problem you had, perhaps one where you made a big decision on your own. Any big decisions in your past you can think of Eld?"

"Joining the scouts." Eld said flatly.

"Mmmmmmmmm…..…"

"Let me get this straight…the big reveal is that I joined the scouts? I already know that. That's some bullshit. It might as well've told me I'm blonde."

"Well now, hold your horses - that's your 'past' card. This 'present' card looks to be reverse Judgement."

"Right. What's all that about then."

"It's-" More paper shuffling, "Aha. Overcoming guilt - it seems that someone might be feeling bad for being a jerk-off all the time."

"You don't have to feel bad about that Oruo, at this point we're all used to it."

"Pfft."

"Alright - then what's this 'lady' card up to?"

A tapping noise.

"That would be…" Yet more shuffling sounds, "The Empress…ah, interesting, very interesting."

"What? Come on I could have beaten myself at chess by now."

"Well, this empress is in your future - she could represent either marriage…or pregnancy."

"…what?"

"Huh. It's unwise not to use contraception Eld, I thought you were smarter than that."

"What a load of crap. You sure this isn't your reading? That would make a lot more sense after last weekend-"

Levi took a step into the room, his foot falling hard on the floor to draw their attention. Their eyes snapped to him and Oruo dropped the card he was holding up.

"Having ourselves a magical evening?"

They were aghast. He moved to the kitchenette to boil water, but could feel their eyes boring through him.

"Gunther, Petra?" He queried, taking down several different coloured tins of tea leaves and removing their lids.

"Not here sir." Eld replied.

Levi sniffed each tin one by one, trying to decide on the evening's blend.

"Where are they?"

"No idea." Eld said, and Oruo shrugged.

Levi looked at Eld, head cocked, and blinked flatly a couple of times. Hm. So no-one knew where they were? That was unusual, seeing as the squad were all such great chums now.

"Why do you ask, sir? I thought you didn't care what we do with our free time."

"I don't."

Eld always had to be such a damn smart-ass. The water was boiling, and he settled on a green tea, placing the other tins back in the cupboard. The room remained still and silent while he steeped the leaves in the pot measuredly.

"So. You knocked someone up?"

Oruo barked a harsh laugh and Eld stumbled, "What? No sir - it was just dumb - tarot cards from Oruo's sister."

Levi took the pot and a cup to the table, his footsteps thudding through the quiet, and sat down in his usual spot, for a moment he focused intently on the cards.

He moved his flat gaze to Oruo, "And you're some kind of trained mystic?"

Oruo's hand found his neck, "I wouldn't say trained per se-"

"I'd say you have a natural talent for it." Eld smirked, "Maybe it runs in the family."

"Uhuh." Levi poured out his tea, casually, "Then why don't you read my future."

Oruo went white and Eld's smirk only intensified, "Yeah Oruo, why don't you read the Captain's future?"

"I - are you serious sir?"

Levi spoke pointedly, "What's the problem? You look like you're gonna shit yourself." He patiently sipped his tea, awaiting a response.

Oruo gulped, "…nothing, Captain." Then, somewhat unexpectedly, his fearful expression instantly disappeared, and he began shuffling the deck in an overtly confident manner: the return of the showman.

"Alright sir." He began, hands still shuffling, "First things first, it's required that you to ask the deck a question, something that you…"

Levi glared over the rim of his cup.

"…Or I suppose we could just forgo that part." Oruo continued, trying to avoid Eld's delighted expression.

He placed the deck face down in front of Levi.

"Now Captain, you need to shuffle and cut the deck. You're aiming for three equally sized piles."

Levi gently placed his cup down and did as Oruo instructed, shuffling the cards with the fluid ease of a man who'd spent years of his life among gamblers. Then he split the deck into three perfect piles in two swift movements. Oruo and Eld looked at one another, brows raised.

"Now what?"

"Now you need to flip over each card from left to right, sir."

The room's attention was intensely pooled on the backs of the cards. None of three men would ever have admitted the level to which they were curious of the forthcoming pictures, but any spectator could have spotted it a mile off.

The first card: The Magician, upside-down.

Levi frowned, his eyes flitted to Oruo, who was hurriedly flipping through his sister's notes.

"The reversed Magician, she says…represents frustration, restriction and possibly an untrustworthy person, deceit."

The two men looked at him expectantly.

"That one corresponds to your past." Eld piped up, his brown eyes were alive, clearly hopeful that Levi would tell him details of his background.

Deceit, eh? Frustration? Restriction? Where did he start.

He sipped his tea. An untrustworthy person…he could think of more than a few that fit that description from that dank, squalid cesspit underground. One in particular with a wide-brimmed hat and a penchant for murder…his interest was piqued.

He nodded and moved to turn the second card, a little smug when he saw Eld's slight deflation. Yeah, like he was gonna tell them any details about his past. Eld and Petra were the team's optimists, and in certain situations that quality was necessary, but it also led them down foolish paths.

The second card: The Hierophant.

Oruo was already shuffling his papers and Eld took a long swig of his beer.

"Aha - upright Hierophant in the present position represents a," Oruo squinted, bringing the paper closer to his face, "- an authority figure. A teacher or mentor whose influence can help you solve current problems or new lessons that bring you closer to your life's purpose."

Huh. Levi blinked. Erwin. That much was clear. For mystical crap it sure seemed to be relevant. What about Erwin?

"I gotta say Oruo, this might be the longest I've heard you talk without using the word 'I'." Eld mocked.

Oruo scowled and necked his beer.

Hm. Levi poured himself more tea, meditating on the liquid as it spilled into the cup. How could Erwin help him solve his current problem? His current problem was his own emotional folly, and he was well on the road to fixing it: the past week he'd returned to sleeping a maximum of three hours a night and enduring his regular disturbing nightmares. He'd drilled the squad hard and retained his focus throughout. Even during his paperwork evenings with Petra, he'd kept his mind from wandering. He'd all but extinguished the unwelcome spark she'd ignited in him.

He didn't need Erwin's help, he could fix his own foolishness.

He reached for the third card, and Oruo and Eld placed their drinks down, engrossed by the movement of his hand.

The third card: The Fool.

Quaint. He almost rolled his eyes. Somewhere, the goddesses were mocking him. He scowled; good thing this was all total bullshit.

Levi and Eld looked to Oruo who was disconcertedly scanning the card, then his pages of notes.

"Uh…" He began, "The upright Fool in the future position…ah, Captain, it looks like this is actually a good card." Oruo said with a hint of surprise, "The Fool represents the new - opportunities, hope, courage and even…" He looked up from the paper and spoke suavely with a lilt, "falling in love."

"Tch."

Eld quirked a brow, "You know, I did hear there was a new model of dustpan and brush coming out soon…"

"It also says that the Fool is not without risks. It warns you to pay attention and remember to stay practical on your new adventure. Huh. Well I for one think that's a satisfactory overall reading. Now, it seems you each owe me five silver pieces after I so generously enlightened you."

Eld snorted, "Yeah right. No offence but you didn't exactly tell me anything I didn't already know, and then, even though you know I'm single and bored out of my damn skull you blathered on about marriage and pregnancy-"

"Don't blame me, you picked those cards." Oruo folded his arms, uppity, "I was but the messenger for your future misfortunes."

"Misfortunes?" Eld suddenly took on a darkness that Levi hadn't seen in him before, "I fucking hope it's true. Any scout would be lucky to fall in love, get married and have a family. I just happen to know that that isn't in my goddamn future."

Perhaps Eld could be more of a realist than Levi had realised. But then, he'd chosen him as second for a reason.

Eld continued, "It's made-up garbage, and you know it. Just one of the many funny, albeit stupid ways to pass an evening before our inevitable deaths at the jaws of a titan."

"Agreed." Levi sipped his tea.

Oruo looked sour. He collected the deck, "Right." He stood up, "Don't come crying to me when you accidentally knock someone up and can't afford to send a letter home to inform your parents."

He stormed out, collecting his unsent letters on the way.

Eld grimaced into his beer.

"Something troubling you?" Levi offered.

Eld looked at him for a long moment.

"Our letters to our families were returned." He said bluntly.

"I see."

For a minute, neither of them said anything, Eld was turning his beer bottle in his hands, a look of concern still present on his face.

"You pushed us seriously hard this week sir." He said eventually.

Levi eyed him, "Nothing you couldn't handle."

"…true." He sniffed, "Seems like things could be on the up now, eh?" He mustered a small smile.

That was the thing about optimists. It never took them long to return to their foolish ways. But funnily enough, Levi noticed that he welcomed the return. It didn't suit Eld to be so low-spirited.

"We can hope." He replied.

Notes:

What's up!

I thought I'd leave a note here basically to say i'm very sorry to anyone who has any knowledge about tarot - I don't know a whole bunch but I liked the idea of these three characters who didn't know anything about it (and didn't much seem like the type to do it) having a go...! So it's probably very incorrect, but that's also why Oruo is kind of riffing with no knowledge of the subject (because that is what I was doing hahaha). Pls forgive me!

And thanks again to everyone who is still reading along or leaving kudos or comments too (basically for sticking with it I know it's a slow old burn) it brings me so much joy and makes my week - honestly u have no idea! :) :) :)

Chapter 17: The Survey Corps 'Great Race'

Chapter Text

Week Three - Saturday

The Survey Corps 'Great Race'

The day of the race was finally here, and Petra was surprised at how giddy she felt about it. When Eld had suggested it, at no point had she actually thought it would happen. There were just so many steps between the initial idea and the actual race itself; it seemed deeply unfeasible, a pipe dream.

Apparently though, Commander Erwin had signed off on it instantly following Hange's idea to gather data for future training purposes, and Mike (of all people) suggesting that it was valuable for the cadets to have a day watching the most skilled veterans exhibit their skills; it was going to be a day, the Commander announced, 'for boosting morale'.

As a consequence, it'd now been given a title, "The Survey Corps Great Race"; Moblit had designed a questionable flyer and it was being observed by every member of the scouts, and the cadets; even some locally stationed MP's and Garrison soldiers had turned up. They'd truly 'made a day of it.'

She'd initially found the whole ordeal amusing, but when she'd seen herself formally referred to as 'one of the most skilled veterans' her heart pattered, and she realised that she was perhaps more invested in it than she wanted to admit. Then there was the fact that all the guys had such confidence in the squad's improvement, that they'd decided to hold this 'showcase' just three weeks after her joining them. When she thought of the trust they had in her, she welled up a little.

She also wondered if the Captain cared more about the results of the race than he was letting on. After all, the week's drills had been more intense than ever before, and she doubted that that was solely because of his recent sour mood. Of course, he'd never stoop so low as to acknowledge it.

Their brief, awkward post-wood-axing staring-contest had gone unmentioned as she suspected it would. In fact, their interactions outside of drills over the week had been minimal, even during evenings working through paperwork barely two sentences were uttered between them. She'd decided that it was a good thing, it meant that she was able to remain professional. Whenever she'd found herself concerned with his wellbeing, or wanting to go beyond her regular duties to assist him, or, dare she bring up, when she'd felt some…inappropriate desires…she instead doubled down on the task at hand, successfully batting those absurd instincts away.

It was for the best.

And now the squad were lined up by the start of ODM run one, in front of the rows of the soldier and cadet spectators stood in the field (many were also dotted through the course on observation platforms), opposite the line of Squad Mike, while the Commander addressed everyone from a small, temporary wooden platform.

As she stood geared-up by the figures of her four team mates, each one stern and determined as they sized up their competition, she felt her whole chest surge with pride; utterly thrilled to be able to count herself among them.

She peeked down the opposing line, and felt the sudden blazing of competition. Who did these posers in Squad Mike think they were?

Eld was right. Squad Levi was the best squad. And they were about to fucking prove it.

"The race will take place as follows," Erwin's voice boomed across the densely occupied field, "The squads will compete on ODM run one, completing the circuit right here, where they began. It will be a relay, therefore, the squad leaders will decide which member of their squad will take each section of the course. There are dummy titans positioned in every section, and additionally at the relay crossover points, and each squad has the same number of titans to dispatch. When the crossover points are reached, the soldiers from both neighbouring sections are permitted to work as a team to dispatch the targets. The squad that reach the finish line first, having dispatched all of their targets will be declared the winners. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." The two lines hotly chorused, bar Mike and the Captain, who predictably didn't react. They were glaring at one another with the ferocity of two men with unfinished business.

"Good. Now, each squad has five minutes to discuss a strategy and delegate the course segments between the team members."

Nifa fired a flare and the next thing Petra knew, she was roughly pulled into a group huddle with the squad.

"What's the plan sir?" Eld was a little wired, he'd drank four cups of coffee before they'd left (Petra'd had to make a second batch), and was now in a state of jittery hyper-focus.

"There are six sections of the course and only five of us." Oruo drawled, "I don't mind volunteering to go the extra mile."

"No, it makes the most sense for the Captain to complete the extra section." Gunther stated abruptly, "Though it does seem unfair that they have an extra member."

Eld shook his head, "We requested the challenge. We're not in a position to-"

"All of you be quiet." Petra scowled; she caught the Captain's eye, "Your orders sir?"

He looked back at her intently for a second, then moved his eyes around each of them.

"Eld will take the first section, followed by Oruo, Gunther and Petra. The last two sections belong to me."

Oruo dove in, "But sir-"

"That decision is final."

Gunther nodded, "Hm."

"Good plan sir." Eld was speaking unusually quickly, "It makes sense to put the two fastest at the end of the course."

Oruo opened his mouth, "I-"

"Shut up Oruo!" Petra whacked him on the back.

Eld raised his brows, "So that's it sir? No pep talk? No wise words of encouragement?"

"It appears you have an overactive imagination Eld." The Captain said lowly, "…and coffee breath. Pull yourself together, we can't fall at the first damn hurdle."

Eld made a face, and Petra and Gunther caught eyes and were struggling to suppress their smiles. Oruo was looking directly at Eld, grinning smugly.

Petra collected herself, and looked back up the Captain with a renewed sense of focus, "Any last advice Captain?"

"Don't lose focus." He paused, "and don't screw it up."

Nifa fired another flare and they were called back to attention.

"Have the squad leaders come to a decision?" Erwin inquired.

Mike sniffed, "Mm."

The Captain's eyes narrowed, and he nodded curtly.

"Good. Both squads take your positions in the course."

The crowd broke out into chatter as the racers made their way towards the trees.

Petra's heart was thudding. This was exciting, she deployed her gear, sailing up into the branches towards her starting platform. As she ascended, she heard some familiar voices,

"You can do it babygirl!" Hannah yelled from near the front of the crowd.

"Yeah! Go get 'em bitch!" Jules shouted, pumping her fist in the air.

Petra snort-laughed and shook her head.

"Good luck Oruo! You better win for me!"

Who on earth…? She frantically scanned the crowd, eventually spotting a small brunette MP soldier, jumping up and down and waving. Petra side-eyed Oruo, whose cheeks were a little red, then he sped ahead into the woods. Ah. The famous 'Lina' she supposed. She smiled warmly; it would be nice to meet her properly.

—

Eld was jittery as hell. God. Damn. It. He knew he shouldn't have drank four coffees. Idiot. Idiot. Argh. Man.

They had to win this race. It was his fucking idea.

'We can't fall at the first damn hurdle'

Nuts. It was looking like Eld himself was the first damn hurdle. He took a deep breath, centring himself. He was a seasoned pro. He could win his battle against over-caffeination and then they could win the race. Not hard.

His leg was shaking as he stood at the first platform. It was strange, he hadn't ever thought himself as a nervous person, and perhaps he only felt this way because of the coffee, but the hyped crowed chattering as he waited opposite Gelgar (his direct competition) had him all worked up.

"Hey Gelgar." He shouted across the run to the opponent's platform, "Good luck man. They say your squad has really gelled in the last year - though, looking at you now, seems like they just meant your hair."

"Weak." Gelgar called back, "I could've come up with a hundred better take-downs than that."

"That's weird," He yelled, "I didn't know you could count."

"You're the one that should be counting - counting your blessings when I annihilate your ass. Our squad has been top forever, I doubt your sloppy squad will even make it out of the woods."

Eld laughed, "Nice one. Though, what's that saying? Pride often comes before a fall? I sure hope it isn't literal."

"That's just how I do things."

Yep. He knew trash talk would make him less nervous.

They stood for several more minutes, looking over their shoulders for the signal, when Commander Erwin raised a hand in the air. The spectators went silent.

"All racers in position. Good luck. On my command."

The air was still, hundreds of pairs of eyes set on the Commander as he stared forward into the trees.

"Let the first Survey Corps Great Race…begin!"

The Commander rapidly brought his hand down and Nifa fired a noise round.

Eld leapt into the trees, speeding directly forward. The trash talk was a laugh, but he wasn't going to pay Gelgar any mind as he raced through, neither was he going to be distracted by the soldiers littering the observation platforms throughout the course. He blazed through the trunks evenly, immediately spotting the four metre dummy up ahead in his path, he dove and flipped, taking out the nape as he descended in what was possibly his coolest dummy dispatch ever. And it was being witnessed by as many people as possible. Sweet.

He weaved his way further through the trees.

"Nice moves." Gelgar yelled across at him where he was travelling parallel, "But watch this."

Eld glimpsed Gelgar briefly swing under a branch, hacking through a dummy's nape. A nice technique, but the man'd had been reckless with his gas usage.

Eld smirked, their squad's recent dead weight training had meant that, as no-one knew when or if they would run out of gas, they'd gotten spectacularly good at conserving it until necessary. He hadn't quite appreciated that so fully before. The Captain really knew what he was doing.

—

Oruo assertively looked back through the course. This would be a piece of cake. None of these suckers could measure up.

There he was, the dumb blonde asshole. Not as far ahead of Gelgar as would have been helpful either. Pfft. Jerk-off. He rolled his shoulders, it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle. He'd beat Nanaba with ease and get the squad the lead they deserved, a lead worthy of the best squad in the corps.

He smirked confidently, he could picture it now:

'Oh Oruo! I always knew you were fast but…you're so much faster than any of the other members of the squad!'

Then Petr- Lina would jump into his arms and they'd drink and play darts together at the tavern.

"I must apologise Nanaba." He said smoothly.

"What?" Nanaba looked a tad disgruntled from her platform opposite.

"It pains me to have to do this to a lady, but unfortunately you've drawn the short straw. I'll tell Mike to go easy on you, I don't doubt he'll blame you for losing this race for his team, but when you're up against the best, you're up against the best."

"Do you always talk this much?"

Oruo didn't hear the end of her question, as he'd propelled himself off the platform, having caught Eld's eye a second beforehand, and they made rather swift work of the two dummies set for them at the crossover point.

Heh.

He blasted on through the course with ease, grunting as he destroyed dummy after dummy, winking at the watching cadets after each eliminated target. It was a shame he didn't have time to stop and pose for the sketch artists, he mused, what with him moving at such speed, they must have been missing the good stuff.

He launched himself away from a dispatched titan and nearly stopped dead. Nanaba was way up in front, and she turned around and stuck her tongue out.

"Grrrrrrr."

How did she? No matter.

He composed himself, hurtling through the trunks irately until he'd just about caught up to her. No-one bested him like that.

"Word of advice-" She called out to him after she'd slashed a dummy's nape, "Focus on the job at hand and stop trying so hard to impress people."

She winked, then took off, him hot on her tail.

—

Nanaba appeared first. Gunther frowned.

It was all too clear that Eld wasn't the one to fall behind - Oruo had a tough run; Nanaba was a particularly strong competitor, probably second only to Mike in that squad. Even still, he could've predicted that Oruo would underestimate the competition. Mike's squad included some of the longest serving veterans of the corps, it was completely stupid to think that this race would be in any way easy.

"Nervous?" Lynne called over to him.

Gunther shrugged. It wasn't the time for small talk.

"Not one for chatting huh?" She pressed.

He readied himself, Oruo was right behind Nanaba, looking furious with himself. He heard Nanaba and Lynne shout to each other, but he blocked out the words as he swept in to assist Oruo with the dummy titans.

If nothing else, his team were the only team he knew who had been training in wordless communication - something even Oruo had surprisingly gotten very good at. It meant that their crossovers were particularly smooth; and they made quick work of the puppets.

Gunther and Lynne were neck and neck flying parallel at full throttle through the course. Lynne appeared to have the slight upper hand with speed, but she was much slower than Gunther at taking out targets, which meant that they were pretty evenly matched.

"I saw you." She shouted at him through the trees.

Huh?

Gunther flicked his eyes over to her, but quickly returned his focus to the course.

"I saw you in town with James." She added, and he felt his heart leap into his mouth, the blood beating in his ears.

This was an odd technique to try and throw him off. He frowned; he wasn't going to let it work.

They flew down and in towards one another where two dummy titans were stationed and simultaneously hacked the fabric at the respective napes, grunting with the effort. The soldiers operating the puppets were too slow to even start moving them.

Lynne was slightly out of breath, it was clearly taking a lot of effort to keep up with him at this point, "You don't have to say anything now but," she weaved away, and then back towards him, "I thought it'd be nice if you both joined me and Anna on a double date in town…it'll be fun."

What?

Gunther almost retracted his hooks and fell silently to the forest floor. He wasn't expecting her to say that. She smiled warmly on catching his eye.

Oh. She wasn't trying to throw him off at all. He warily smiled and gave her a single nod.

—

Here they were, Gunther and Lynne, shoulder to shoulder. It was odd, but they seemed much more relaxed than Petra was expecting, almost like they weren't racing at all. She looked across the run to the scout who'd just introduced himself as Henning.

"Ready Ginger?" He hollered, "Hope you're hungry, because you're about to eat my dust."

"You're very confident for someone who's gonna get battered." She yelled. "Oh - I made reservations for your squad at the loser café in town, hope you can make it."

She was blazing, ready. A little bit of her wished that Eld could hear her fight-talking this guy, she suspected he'd be proud.

Henning laughed, "If you're as bad on the course as you are at trash talk, then you might want to change those reservations."

"You'd better change…Ugh! You're gonna LOSE OK!" She howled, diving from the platform, spinning perfectly, fabric rupturing through the air. Where her words had failed her, her actions dealt the blow, and she could sense his surprise.

She swore she could hear the slight low grumble of Gunther's laugh as she pulled herself forward and strongly away from the crossover point, already in the lead. She twisted and flung herself about, bolting from tree to tree, a spinning red-haired missile, as she hacked her way through dummy titans, never missing a beat. If Henning were close behind her, she couldn't hear his wires.

Suddenly a dummy fell into her path from nowhere and she scooted, hitting off it with her legs as the last second and circling through a gap under the titan. That was close. She manoeuvred back around, chopping through its arm and obliterating the nape with determined precision. She could hear wires…Henning was catching up. Darn it, she wanted to give the Captain a better lead than this.

She span once more, yanking herself onward, ignoring the delighted shouts from the spectators, clicking in fresh blades. It was easy, and it was fun. Her eyes narrowed and she danced on further, blasts of splintering wood left in her wake.

There - not too far now, the crossover point, and she couldn't hear Henning any more. Perfect.

The Captain was poised on his platform, his inky hair moving slightly in the breeze. He was serene; ready, but entirely unfazed. She didn't know what she was expecting.

They locked eyes, and he dove in, a hawk to its unsuspecting prey, spinning through the dummy titan nearest to him with ease. At the same moment Petra shattered through the nape of the dummy nearest her, euphoric in her success, a large smile growing across her face as he caught her eye once more before turning to continue through the final two sections of the course.

In a matter of seconds her joy evaporated. Henning had appeared behind her and Tomas, who was waiting for him to arrive at the crossover point was too keen and overshot his hook, accidentally dislodging one of Petra's. Before she could react, her own weight had swung her in the direction of her in-tact hook and she smashed into a tree, biting back a wail.

Fuck - that fucking hurt.

She winced, opening a single eye to a blurred forest. She'd fallen pretty far, but it didn't feel serious. Likely it would just be bruises and grazes on her left side where she'd hit the bark. Darn it all…if she wasn't so busy smiling at the Captain, she could've reacted faster. What an idiot.

"Go on Tomas - I've got it." She heard Henning call out as her surroundings came blinking into focus, and then she was aware of his presence close by, his voice worried, "Hey - are you alright?"

Through the course up ahead she spotted a dark figure - Captain Levi. He'd stopped and was crouched against a tree trunk staring daggers back through the course.

Had he come back? What the hell was he doing?

"GO!" She shouted at him, her voice rasping slightly with the strain. He did no such thing, instead travelling back through the course towards her, "Captain! I'm fine! GO!"

He scowled and opened his mouth-

"Sir - please!" She yelled.

Of all the times…

—

Shit. Every son of a bitch in this regiment was a goddamn moron. Petra for example; too stubborn for her own good.

Her honey-brown eyes shone, "Please go Captain! It's nothing!"

He snorted and flipped around, reluctantly continuing through the course. So be it. If she was that desperate to suffer for the result of a pointless race, then that was fine by him.

It wasn't a problem that he was behind. His jaw was clenched as he catapulted himself through the trees, barely looking at the targets as he assassinated them. He furiously blew air through his nose, continually replaying the slight trickle of blood from Petra's busted lip, her eye half closed in pain and her copper hair all mussed.

Was it worth it? For a damn race?

He audibly growled. Any other soldier.

He tumbled almost to the forest floor, then pulled himself vertically, running upwards over a titan's wooden body to its nape and savagely slashing it to astonished gasps from spectators. If he'd known Erwin was going to blow this up into such a big event, he'd never have agreed to it.

Not far now. He was going to catch up with that dumbass Tomas so he could give him a piece of his mind. Levi hadn't been formally trained, but every nitwit knew that you looked before you fired a hook: it rhymed. How the hell could you forget it?

The crossover point. He glimpsed Mike's descent from the final platform, and the two men from the opposing squad began taking out their allotted targets.

Damn it. He'd lay into Tomas later, right now taking down Mike was his goal.

He got along with Mike, liked him even (as much as he 'liked' anyone); the man was an honourable and talented soldier who only spoke when absolutely necessary - and Levi placed great value on that trait. Mike'd also been known to help Levi pick out the highest quality teas, and even on occasion had commended Levi's cleanliness.

But now Levi had an opportunity. Friendship or not, Mike was going down. No-one pushed his face into a puddle of shit, as Mike had done when they'd first met, and got off scot-free, as Mike had managed to so far.

Levi respected that occasionally as a soldier, you had to resort to despicable means to get the upper hand, and he found he could forgive necessary transgressions, but that action was one that he hadn't forgotten. He glowered, recalling the feeling of slime, dirt and muck dripping from his face, a disgusting reminder of the shit heap that for so long he'd been forced to call home.

Beating Mike to a bloody pulp had always been out of the question (as he'd found out at the time), besides, Levi knew he'd never win in a spar against the man…but shaming him today in front of the whole legion by winning this race? That was definitely possible, and within regulations.

He destroyed the crossover point dummies with a gruff 'Huh!', taking both out in a single movement, then zipped off.

Hm. His eyes narrowed. He could hear wires, but he couldn't see the tall bastard anywhere. Descending at speed, he hit a dummy's nape so strongly that he decapitated it, and was pulling himself back up to the higher branches when out of the blue Mike sped across the course and bashed him into a tree, bark fragmenting through the air.

Damn it. Playing hardball was he? Levi growled, his eyes narrowed.

Mike had rocketed onward, not looking back.

Levi slammed his fingers on the ODM triggers, accelerating until he was alongside the larger man, where he swiftly returned the favour, smashing him into a trunk with all his might.

"Urgh!" Mike grumbled, roughly shoving him away.

The sudden push caused one of Levi's hooks to come loose and he was forced to spin down low to rebalance himself, but immediately caught back up; using the gear was almost as natural as breathing to him. They continued, neck and neck, swerving in and out in attempts to obstruct and evade one another, glaring across the run.

Strange, he'd thought Mike more honourable than this. But, he supposed, even the most honourable could fall when their own honour came into question. Maybe Mike held a grudge of his own. Maybe he hadn't taken his fall from humanity's strongest to humanity's second strongest as respectably as he'd put across. Hm.

Maybe this whole day had become a way for each veteran to live out their pettiest personal vendettas, and be self-satisfied with their displays of grandeur. That included Erwin.

Tch.

Had he really allowed himself to be pulled in by such trivial bullshit?

As they span through two targets seamlessly, more and more light began pouring in: the trees were thinning out, the end of the course had appeared up ahead and chants and shouting from the crowd began growing in volume and intensity.

He snorted. His last target was moving erratically; trust the cadets operating the final obstacle to go all out. He was going to need to land on it to get a clean hit. His hooks embedded in the fabric of the nape, and in a flash he reeled himself in, blades sweeping through the kill point. At that very moment however, Mike, having dispatched his final target, swung over and knocked Levi from his precarious position, and Levi was once again thrown off course.

Not for long though, not if he could help it.

"Smell ya later." Mike mumbled, taking off in front.

But the race wasn't over yet, and Levi was going to win. Not to avenge some shitty spat from his past that really, he'd long since moved on from, and not because of a rageful impulse brought about by his subordinate's minor injuries. He'd win for no other reason than because he could.

Mike was fast approaching the long red ribbon that had been tied between two trees to signify the end of the course. Levi clicked on a new blade, and promptly flung it through the air; the spinning blade whirling and glinting in the winter sunlight over the heads of the enraptured spectators, who gasped as it sliced cleanly through the red ribbon, and came to land with a thud, embedded in the grass of the field.

Exploiting Mike's momentary surprise, Levi closed the gap between them, grabbing the taller man's cloak and yanking him backwards, the force of which propelled himself into the lead; then he flipped through the air, landing neatly over the line at the forest's edge.

A wall of noise hit him as the crowd erupted.

—

Petra's left eye was still half closed in pain and she had a very slight limp from where the blade box had slammed into her leg, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She'd likely recover well enough over the remainder of the weekend to return to drills as normal on Monday.

Henning was walking with her, and if she were honest, being a little overbearing. He kept offering an arm to help her walk, which she evidently didn't need. She supposed it was quite sweet really, he'd also given her a handkerchief too to blot her cut lip.

All she wanted was to get to the field. They'd heard the cheering blast through the trees a while ago, and they were nearing the end of the course where she didn't doubt the rest of the squad would be waiting to tell her the result. She doubted they'd have to actually tell her, she'd know from their faces, so devoted they were to winning. Not that she was above it…her conduct today had shown her to be exactly the same…

He'd stopped for her. She was trying not to think about it. A smile was tugging at her lips and she attempted to force it away. He'd stop for anyone on the team right? If they were injured? She'd never have expected him to come back through the course like that. Her face lit up behind the bloodied handkerchief held up against her lip, and she thought about the way his brows had knit together, and how, despite his clear annoyance, he looked cute.

The early afternoon sun streamed through the branches.

"AHHH!"

Instantly Petra was crushed between the bodies of three larger men, three idiots who'd sprinted at her the second they'd seen her little ginger head bobbing on its way out of the woods. Three stupid jerks who didn't, in their excitement, notice her grazed face, her bleeding lip and her slight limp.

"HEY!" She squealed, hitting at them with her good arm.

"Lay off - she's hurt!" Henning yelled and they instantly withdrew, but she was once again assaulted, this time sonically;

"Holy shit are you alright?"

"Petra what the hell happened?"

"Damn. You ok Red?"

She took a deep breath and looked at them expectantly. They were buzzing, Eld especially. Each one of their faces had taken on a comical, kind of hyperactive concern, but she could feel the exhilarated energy pulsing through every inch of them.

"…wait." She said suspiciously, "Did we actually…win?"

"Fuck yeah!" Eld exploded.

"Did you ever doubt us?" Oruo questioned, arms folded, yet even he couldn't entirely hide his total delight behind his smug 'I-always-knew-we-would' exterior.

Her eyes widened and she grinned, "Wow." She shook her head, smiling in disbelief.

Of course he'd win. Of course he would.

"Are you alright?" Gunther said frowning a little as he looked over her face, "Looks like it hurt."

"It's nothing, really. Just a couple scratches - nothing a bandage or two won't fix."

Gunther nodded.

"Glad to hear it." Eld said sincerely, "Let's get you to the wagons."

The three of them walked her through the field, through the slowly dispersing soldiers, who on occasion shouted their congratulations, and led her to one of the supply wagons; they'd been brought in to carry the extra dummy titans required for the race, but each wagon also carried a first aid kit.

Her squad mates described to her in detail the moment when their Captain had crossed the line; the spinning blade, the pulled cloak, the last minute victory. Gunther was the only other member who hadn't made it back in time to witness it. They told her of the way the Commander had tried (and spectacularly failed) to get the Captain up onto the makeshift wooden platform as he formally announced the result, and how Eld had to stand there in his place, bowing to rapturous applause. Oruo huffed at that part.

Having removed her jacket, Petra sat on the back of the wagon and was rolling up her left shirt sleeve to inspect the grazes on her arm. She winced and hissed a little as the fabric pulled at the sticky drying blood from her scrapes. Eld, Gunther and Oruo were bickering over apparatus in the medical kit…it really hadn't taken them long to fall back to it. It would have been easy to butt in and tell them what they needed, she'd taken the medical elective after all, but a part of her was enjoying hearing them squabble, so she left them to fight it out.

She put a hand on her leg and frowned, gently moving it up and down the outside of her thigh to try and feel where the grazes and bruises might be. Hmm. She didn't feel all that comfortable taking her trousers off in the middle of this cold field surrounded by not only her squad, but just about every other soldier who'd witnessed the race. Perhaps she'd wait until they were back at the barracks to clean her leg up.

"Does it hurt?"

It was his low, smooth voice…it sent ripples through her, a tonic to the stinging. The smile found its way back to her lips and she glanced up at him, "Not really. Nothing I can't handle, I reckon I'll be back to drills as norm-"

She cut off as he'd suddenly appeared directly in front of her and grabbed her chin, pulling it upwards towards him, and was looking at her fiercely.

"Open your eyes." He demanded, and when she looked confused added, "wider."

She did as he asked as he firmly scrutinised her. Her heart started to accelerate in response. She was trying not to focus on the pressure of his hand under her chin, his thumb as it sat just below her lip; and was staring at a spot just past his face into the sky, the sunlight blinding. Tingles began to shower through her and she wondered if he could feel them through her skin.

After several moments he blinked and dropped his hand.

"Doesn't look like you have a concussion." He inhaled deeply, "Still, you should get yourself to medical. I wouldn't trust these numbskulls to patch you up properly."

With that he turned and started to walk away.

"Captain." She said, and smiled wholeheartedly when he looked over his shoulder, "Congratulations - sir."

"Tch."

She sighed, watching him walk away into the afternoon light.

Chapter 18: Hiccups and Fireworks

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When the squad entered the tavern that evening, they were hit with a wave of applause and cheering; and they'd stood for a few moments in an awkward line, gleefully absorbing their new 'local celebrity' status.

Eld was over the moon, and on top of everything he hadn't had to buy a single drink so far.

They were sat at a table with a few members of Squad Mike and a couple of scouts he didn't recognise from other squads, and everyone was at least tipsy.

"Was it really that close?" He heard Lynne ask Gunther, who shrugged.

"Yeah." Eld said, "Barely half a second between them in the end. Turns out Mike was really…sniff competition."

The table erupted in guffawing, thigh-slapping and groaning. It didn't get better than this; beyond a doubt the greatest day ever.

Three weeks.

That's all it had taken. Three weeks and the squad was exactly where it should be, where it should have been the whole time; on top. He beamed at Petra, mussing her hair, which took her by surprise and she spilled beer that she'd been about to drink.

"Hey! What was that for?" She asked, a mix of irritated and perplexed.

"Just…thanks." He replied quietly, and downed the rest of his ale.

Nanaba, having returned from the bar, pulled up a chair next to Petra,

"I suppose I owe you all some congratulations," She said, holding out a drink to cheers, "I have to say I wasn't sure your slapdash squad would pull through, but you sure showed me."

The table cheered and knocked their tankards together.

"Slapdash is right." Petra countered, she glanced at Eld then back, eyes glinting, "It stands for when we bitch-slapped your squad and then dashed away over the finish line."

"OH!" Eld suddenly stood up, "Yes booster-seat!"

He dragged her out of her chair and threw her, bewildered and giggling, onto his shoulders; "To the bar!" He shouted, pointing.

—

Gunther felt a jolt of pure electricity as James squeezed his leg under the table. Apparently the charmer had other ways to celebrate in mind, and Gunther wasn't about to turn him down. He caught James's eye, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips. How long until they could discreetly excuse themselves?

—

Oruo was scowling at the dart board. He had to reluctantly admit Lina was a crack shot. Had to be because she was an MP. The lazy bastards had nothing else to do all day…if he had hours upon hours to piss around, then he'd be that good at darts too, no question about it.

Lina beamed at him, "Your move."

"Hmph." He murmured, stepping up with his dart.

Three throws later and he was swaggering around, a winner for the second time today; ale in one hand, Lina doting and hanging off the other. The way it should be.

—

A soft voice came from behind Eld,

"So sorry, I think you might have dropped this…"

Ok, wow.

Who was this angel?

…

His jaw was on the floor. Her long, silky hair flowed down her back, and her perfect blue eyes sparkled beneath the shorter bangs loosely framing her face. She was brilliant, utterly beautiful. There he was thinking this day couldn't get any better…he'd spoken too soon. Mystified and tongue-tied, he hesitantly took the bank note he'd dropped from her hand.

"You're in the squad who won the race today aren't you?"

He coughed, scratching his neck, "I - uh…"

"Yes, he is. His name is Eld Jinn and he'd be honoured to buy you a drink." Came Petra's knowing voice, leaning on his side.

He looked down to his little ginger friend who gazed back up and him, widening her eyes. She gave him a hard slap him on the back.

Right…yes.

He blinked, "Yes - yeah. I'd love to buy you a drink uh - what was your name again?"

The woman smiled warmly, genuinely, "Harriet. It's nice to meet you Eld Jinn."

—

Petra leant back on the bar, surveying the rowdy tavern. Eld was well and truly entangled in Harriet's charms and had sat at a table with only her, hanging onto her every word.

He wasn't the only one enamoured either; across the room, Oruo and Lina were making out against a wall. She hastily looked away. She was happy for him, but his rough tongue slathering at poor, sweet Lina wasn't the prettiest sight; though it did seem like Lina was enjoying it…

Gunther wasn't at their table any more either. A quick sweep of the room found him pushing back through the entrance into the cold street, with James grinning widely in tow.

Love was definitely in the air.

She touched her face where a small bandage held together the largest of her small cuts; they stung a little. Then she traced her hand down under her chin and held it there, trying to remember the feel of the Captain's firm hand as he'd assessed her injuries. She sighed. She was in trouble and she knew it. How long could she go on pushing away her feelings? Each time she thought she'd expelled them, he'd do something like that and they came back twice as strong.

Petra was no stranger to love. In fact she'd fancied herself in and out of it several times in her life. But this…this was different. This wasn't a dreamy or fuzzy feeling. She wasn't blinded by infatuation, overlooking someone's flaws because she was enraptured with the fantasy of them. Actually, it was seemingly the opposite. Rather than being blinded, she felt she could see Captain Levi for exactly who he was; flaws and all.

Her head wasn't in the clouds - no - her feet were firmly planted on the ground, yet her heart soared whenever she looked into his pretty, blue-grey eyes. She doubted anyone had ever told him he had such nice eyes. Maybe they had…she should stop being so presumptuous, really, she knew nothing about him.

She clutched her drink tightly, lost to her thoughts.

It wasn't just a desire to touch him, to feel him and be close in every physical way…

…she wanted to make him happy, to give him anything he needed, to sit and hold him, to listen to him, even if he had nothing to say.

Fuckballs.

Why had she let herself…she didn't want to, and she'd tried to stop, she really had…

It wasn't 'love' anyway. How could it be?

The atmosphere of the tavern was whipping her up into a kind of frenzy, making her blow it all out of proportion. It was the drink talking, the excitement of their win. And besides, she'd only known him a month. It was more like…admiration…fascination…

She stared, eyebrows twitching into the rippling gold of her fresh pint of ale; willing her bubbling reflection to show her the way forward.

Hm?

Levi heard the front door shut for the fourth and (he prayed) final time this evening. He placed his cup of tea down and glared at the common-room door. It was not an exaggeration to say that the entire day, but especially the evening had been utter chaos.

He didn't regret things as a rule, but the consequences of his agreeing to the race were really testing that rule.

Mere seconds passed until Petra stumbled into the kitchen, arm in arm with…Hange? His frown deepened.

"Oh Leeeevi!" Hange sang, and he winced at the volume, "Look who I found!" They pulled Petra's arm up in the air, grinning.

"S-sorry Captain." Petra blushed and tottered a little, clearly slightly drunk, though trying her hardest to keep herself together.

She wasn't the first one of them to come back tipsy tonight, and, from what he'd heard of the others, she also wasn't the only one to come back with a companion.

"Ooh what's this?" Hange chattered lightly, picking up a small red gift box from the kitchen counter, and checking the tag;

"'Congratulations dearest P,

I knew you were a winner,

Please enjoy this little treat,

To savour after dinner.'

…P?"

They looked at Petra buoyantly, "I suppose this must be for you."

Levi had tried to ignore the small red box that he'd kicked by accident on entering their quarters. "Outside the front door, in the middle of the damn hall" he'd grumbled to himself. What a dumb place to leave something. He'd cursed, picked it up and put it on the kitchen counter, and tried not to pay it any mind since. He had however, at odd moments, caught himself angrily glancing at the stupid pink satin ribbon that was tied around it.

Hange handed Petra the box, who took it looking a little lost, "Another…?" She whispered, turning it around in her hands and frowning at the tag. She didn't look at all happy about receiving it, and Levi's chest swelled a little.

So now he was glad that she didn't look happy about receiving some anonymous gift. He swallowed.

No. That wasn't it.

He just didn't want her to lose her focus because of trivial things. Their job was too important; they hadn't even completed their first expedition as a squad yet. He was glad that she wasn't happy to be receiving some dumb, distracting present because she needed to remain focused on her duties to the squad…

Right.

What a headache.

He followed her with his eyes as she walked further into the room and came to perch on the edge of the threadbare sofa, her face rosy and her small, clean hands tightly clutching the box. Her breathing was gentle, and she moved her hair behind her ear, a small quirk of hers that he always seemed to notice. For a moment he studied the small bandage on her left cheek by her eye. She sighed, and pulled the end of the pink ribbon.

He blinked, becoming aware of the room again. Over at the kitchenette he caught Hange leaning back against the counter, staring directly at him, a pensive, serious look on their face. They didn't blink or break his gaze.

"The hell are you looking at four eyes?" He growled.

A small, curious smile made its way over Hange's face, "Oh, nothing." They chirped flippantly, "You know how important it is for us scientists to make observations. Ah - Petra - what is it? Any clues to who it might be from?"

Hange moved and sat by Petra on the arm of the sofa. Their energy had completely shifted in an instant. It was unsettling. Damn Hange and their bullshit.

He could tell Petra was trying not to look at him.

"Chocolate." Petra smiled beautifully and gratefully, "I don't know who it's from but-" She hiccuped, throwing a hand over her mouth.

"Ooh." Hange leant in to take a closer look at the gift.

"…whoever it is must know about my sweet tooth." Petra tittered, her smile lighting up her features, and gazed happily into the box. For a blushing second, she caught his eye, before continuing in somewhat of a fluster, "It's very thoughtful, and must have cost…well. More than a soldier should b-be spending on a gift…"

Once again her fingers were combing through immaculate ginger strands. He took a breath, and stared into his lightly rippling tea. Images of his nice dream came flashing through; the china teacup, the orange flower, her amber eyes - he started, knocking his cup which clinked against the saucer. They both turned their attention to him, stunned.

"What's that Levi?" Hange looked intently at him, "Do you have a suggestion?"

He glared back, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Hange, smiling, stood from their perch, "Ahh! Trying to get rid of me - is that it?"

"Clearly." He said simply, taking a sip.

"You know you should really try to lighten up - if I didn't know any better I'd think you lost that race today." They made their way out, stopping in the doorframe, "Both of you have a nice evening now. Don't stay up too late!" Then after a further inquisitive glance over the pair of them, swiftly exited.

The energy drop was immediate, and the pair of them fell into a quiet stillness.

Levi returned his focus to his teacup.

There was a sudden pressure on his temples; the atmosphere felt oddly thick and highly charged, as though if he moved even the smallest amount, all the furniture in the room would explode. Electric currents pulsed across his skin, the desire to move rapidly and remain totally still continually warring within, each impulse as convincing as the other. He kept his eyes to his drink. What was she doing? Was she looking at him?

After an indeterminate amount of time, Petra lightly coughed, easing the tension, which he was beginning to realise may have been constructed entirely within his own mind. The teapot was empty, and breath began falling a little deeper into his lungs.

"I suppose I should really go to bed. Good- e-evening sir." She hiccuped, and from his peripheral vision he made out her petite figure as she gathered up her unsent letter from the counter, and walked through the door.

Air rushed out of him. He wouldn't sleep yet, it was far too early for that. He glanced over at the dying fire, and decided to start it up again. He'd read a while. The chair grated along the floor as he stood-

"Um...Captain?"

There she was again in the doorway, as if she'd heard that he needed a new spark for the fireplace. He didn't respond, only noted her strange mixture of shyness and concern.

"Is it ok if I maybe, s-stay up with you for a while?" Her eyes drifted to the floor, "I'll do that thing where you drink water b-backwards for hiccups."

Huh?

"It's just…" She continued, frowning, "I-it's quite loud in the hall…"

Loud?

…of course, the squad had 'company'.

Oh.

…

Oh.

"I d-don't think I'll get much sleep if I go to bed now…"

She chewed her lip a little, again reluctant to catch his eye.

"I'll make more tea." It was all he could think to say. "Get the fire going. And shut the door."

"Sir." She said, immediately placing her letter and new gift on the table, then began bustling about the fireplace while he watched her, somewhat amused from the kitchenette. Usually she was so graceful, but as she flitted about the fireplace she'd occasionally stumble or move in an uncoordinated, clumsy way. He was surprised at himself; rather than finding it tiresome, he found it appealing, charming even. Hm…there was first time for everything.

The leaves unfurled slowly as they steeped in the hot water, and the flames of the fireplace once again licked at its stone sides.

She set two clean teacups and saucers at the table, and fetched herself a cup of water. He brought the teapot over and returned to his regular seat at the head of the table, ready to pour, but stopped himself, realising that she'd remained standing, cup in hand, faintly smiling at him.

"What." He asked bluntly.

She hiccuped, throwing her hand over her mouth again.

"It's a good t-trick to learn sir - watch."

The next few seconds were nothing short of baffling.

She leant forward over the cup of water, placing her mouth over the far side of the brim and tipping the water into her mouth…upside down. In that moment, he remembered that you had to be nuts to join the scouts.

After she'd drunk all the water from her strange position, she stood up straight again.

"…see?" She said warily, holding her free hand out as though an earthquake could strike at any second, just to undermine her. When no hiccup came, she beamed, "Works every time."

He stared at her.

"So sir, next time you catch the hiccups…"

Her smile melted and she trailed off, blinking bashfully;

"…you…you've never had the hiccups have you?" She shook her head, and pulled out a chair right by him at the table, taking a tentative seat;

"Well, I guess if somebody else gets the hiccups when you're there you could teach them that trick if…"

Again her voice petered out, and again she gave him a sheepish glance. There was something undeniably enjoyable about watching her undo herself with her own words in such a way, and it took very little effort on his part. All that was required was single blank look from him to set off her careering dominos of thought. But, he noted, he didn't feel as though he entirely had the upper hand in the situation as she sat aglow opposite the blazing fire, her caramel eyes shimmering sweetly.

He lifted the teapot and poured out two cups, "Your letter…"

"Oh. That. Thank you…" She pulled her newly filled cup towards herself, "It was to my father. To tell him that I joined your squad actually. But I guess I'll have to buy more stamps or something. I have so much more to tell him now anyway, I was thinking of just writing a whole new one. Maybe that's a job for tomorrow."

"You're close?"

"We have our disagreements…but really, he's one of the kindest men I've ever known."

They caught eyes again, and she quickly looked away.

"He's always supported me in whatever I chose to do with myself, so I can forgive him for the odd time he's sent me dust cloths for my birthday." She blew on her tea to cool it, and took a timid sip.

"Sounds like a good man."

Her eyes softened over the rim of her cup, "He is." Then she was gazing into the flames, "I'm lucky to know so many good men."

Did she mean the squad?

"What about you sir?"

"What about me?"

His tone made her jolt a little.

"…do you have any family or friends you write to? If you have any letters to send, I don't mind taking them into town tomor-"

"No." He sipped his tea resolutely.

"Oh." Her glittering eyes clouded a little, she was instantly downcast, "I'm sorry sir."

She cared so deeply about the wellbeing of others. And so honest. Every tiny flicker of feeling she had was easy to read; as if every thought was inked out plainly in the amber of her eyes. She probably couldn't lie even if she wanted to.

It wasn't often he met a scout so openly generous either. He wasn't sure he ever had. Must be why she inspired such teamwork in the squad, why others were drawn to give back to her in the form of gifts and letters, to try and restore some balance. Likely it was also how she managed to get those around her to take off their armour; he'd never seen the squad be so vulnerable with one another before - hell, he'd felt the smallest urge just moments ago to tell her about his mother and his life underground. She just pulled it out of people.

His eyes yet again skated around the small bandage on the side of her face, the little cut on her lip.

"For what?"

She glanced quizzically, "Hm?"

"What are you sorry for?"

She took a deep breath, "No-one should have no-one, sir."

The sentence came so quickly to her and it was clear it was something she'd thought a thousand times before. But he didn't need her pity, however well-meaning. He didn't want it either. He'd found it was easier in life to have no-one. Having someone meant losing them; without fail. That rule was steadfast.

After a moment, she faintly smiled, "I was surprised that you agreed to that race today sir. It didn't really seem like your…cup of tea."

His eyebrows raised the slightest touch, "Was that a joke Ral?"

She smiled, "I don't know sir, you tell me."

"Hm." He exhaled, "I hadn't anticipated it to be such a big event. Erwin really blew it out of proportion. Seems he has a weakness for theatrics."

"I wouldn't say it's a weakness, sir. It's integral to the role of a Commander to be inspiring and persuasive. He's managed to get the most cadets to sign up to the scouts in recent times, maybe the most ever. It's impressive."

"Yeah, the dumbasses."

She giggled; such a sweet sound, almost musical. He hadn't been joking, but had somehow earned himself the most perfect little reward.

"That how he got you to join then?" He placed his cup down, "He put on a firework show or something?"

She had the warmest smile, and he noticed once again the scent of vanilla floating through the air.

"There was never any question in my mind about which regiment to join, sir. Having said that, a firework show would have been a nice bonus - why don't you suggest that in your next meeting with him?"

"Sure." He said flatly, "'Hey Erwin, I know we can't afford new chairs, but I think we should get some rockets for the next recruitment drive.'"

There was that charming laugh again. His face felt weird, he wasn't used to his eyebrows being so slack for so long.

Her voice was light, jovial, "Maybe not a full-on show, but they could give us all sparklers or something."

"The hell is a sparkler."

She was immediately astonished, her dumb doe eyes wide with amazement;

"You've never seen a sparkler sir? They're great, you uh - you hold it in your hand - and set light to it and watch it burn down."

"…so a kind of gun?"

She laughed heartily, "No, no, not like a gun. Hmm, how do I…it's like a small, pretty firework that you can hold for a while until it burns out - children get given them at winter festivals sometimes - they run around with them in the snow while the adults stand about drinking hot wine."

He realised he could sit for hours listening to her talk animatedly about nothing, and wondered what it was about her. Here she was talking about 'sparklers', blissfully unaware that it sounded like she was describing herself.

"Tea?" He queried.

"Huh?" She looked into her cup, which was almost full.

"Could you drink tea instead of wine?"

"Oh. Sadly I didn't get to drink either." Her hand moved through her hair, "But yes, you could drink tea." She smiled, "You could drink whatever you wanted sir, long as you could afford it. Oruo once made me a hot drink when we were training up in the mountains, he said it was his family recipe. It was a horrible mixture of both." Her face contorted with disgust, "Tea brewed with some roots, then a strange liqueur added at the end. All of us who tried it had terrible gut pain the next day. He took out almost a whole unit of cadets in one fell swoop - now that I think about it, it's no wonder he made it to your squad so quickly."

She looked a little wistful, "He said, and I quote, 'If you wusses can't even stomach this classic recipe, then you shouldn't ever consider becoming scouts!'"

Her impression of Oruo was a lot better than he was expecting, he felt the beginnings of a smile bubbling up.

"It's funny, he hasn't changed a bit." She lifted the teapot and glanced with an offer, "Sir?"

He nodded, "Appreciated." And she filled his cup.

"I take it…he hasn't ever made his home-brew for the squad then…"

"No."

Her eyes sparkled merrily, "That's a shame. I'd really like to hear everyone's thoughts on it."

"You trying to poison us Ral?" He lifted his teacup.

"Darn it. Was it that obvious?"

He gave her a disconcerted look, and she returned it.

Then, flustered, she started babbling, "That - that was a joke sir."

"Is that so?"

"Yes of course I-" She bit her lower lip, "I would never ever-"

Again he found an opportunity to make her flounder; to tip the first domino, then sit and bask in her tumbling thoughts. He'd toy with her a while longer. He stared blankly at her as she continued chattering, repeatedly retracting her joke.

"…sir?" She pressed, having come to the end of her jittery speech that he'd heard very little of, choosing instead to focus on the cute little frown line that had again appeared between her brow.

"As your commanding officer you must know I'm obligated to take such ill intentions seriously. You wanna formally retract that statement I'll need it in writing with a signature." He sipped his tea, indifferently.

She blinked few times, her breath quivered a little, "Yes sir, or course. Whatever you need."

"And you've earned yourself some laps."

She deflated, "Yes sir."

He placed his cup down and looked straight at her for a long, serious moment. She pressed her lips together and gradually looked back towards him, wide-eyed.

"Um…Captain…was that a joke?"

"You tell me."

She smiled and her face fell into her hands, her light laugh decorating the air.

Week Three - Sunday

Petra's eyes were heavy as she steadily opened them, groaning a little at the mornings bright light as it streamed through the windows. She sat up suddenly, startled. She'd been so warm and cosy that she hadn't realised she was lying on the sofa in the common room, a red plaid woollen blanket over her. She was still in her shirt and trousers, but her military jacket was folded neatly on the table by her gift box and letter, and her long boots were sat side by side under a chair.

All at once, memories of her evening came flooding through her and she almost laughed with delight.

They must have been talking until the early hours. And she'd tried to teach him how to cure hiccups…wow; she'd been merry. No way would she have spoken so freely to him otherwise. She hoped she hadn't been too embarrassing.

She bit her lip.

Happiness was boiling over inside her, and no amount of anxious worrying about what she may or may not have said was going to stop it.

Amid all the whirling pictures from the night, the clearest image was his serious but beautiful face, glowing in the firelight, an unusually gentle look in his pale eyes as they talked…well, Petra did most of the talking, but he seemed wholly content to listen. She had asked him questions too - he just hadn't been that forthcoming…if at all…but, she supposed that was to be expected.

What was unexpected was just how relaxed he seemed, almost easy.

She sighed in bliss, bunching the soft blanket in her hands, she brought it to her nose to inhale it.

It just smelled like a blanket.

What was she expecting? She laughed at herself; truly ridiculous.

"Petra?"

Her heart stopped momentarily and she turned her head, relieved to see it was only Gunther stood in the doorway, a single eyebrow raised.

"Once you're done doing…that, James and I are heading to the market. We wondered if you wanted to join us?"

She couldn't contain herself. A rare, warm evening with the Captain, followed by a day out to the market with two new friends? What had she done to deserve it? She was completely overwhelmed,

"I'd love to."

Notes:

that's right...I really just wrote a chapter where every other member of the squad is getting some EXCEPT the OTP... dang.

there's also a slight nod towards some dialogue that was in one of the aot tactics games in this one.

I've gotten busier and busier these last few weeks so the next week's chapter will probably be delayed again - I'll aim to post it as soon as possible after sunday 3 3

Thanks again to everyone following it's so nice to be part of such a positive community :)

Chapter 19: Sick

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Week Four - Wednesday

Levi had his arms crossed and was leant against the wall of the lab silently watching a dishevelled Hange as they flitted about between several microscopes. Occasionally they would stop to linger at one and hum thoughtfully. They'd barely acknowledged him when he entered and it was clear they had a lot to do, but he didn't feel like waiting about any longer.

He exhaled loudly, in the hope that they'd catch his drift.

They didn't, rather continuing in the same fashion as before, then lifting what appeared to be a large spring from one of the new titan traps and frowning at it.

Well he didn't have time for this.

He huffed again, this time much louder, and scowled in their direction.

After writing several hurried notes they turned to him, raising their goggles above their head,

"To what do I owe the pleasure Levi?"

They looked tired, but the regular spark of special madness remained in their dark brown eyes.

He frowned.

Now that he had their attention, he wasn't really sure what he wanted to ask.

"You know I can't help you if you don't say anything." They said shortly.

For a silent minute or so, they stood staring at him, puzzled, then with a shake of their head picked up a pen and began writing again.

"I'm sick."

His voice grumbled lowly through the lab and he clenched his jaw.

He hated this. He wouldn't be here if he could've thought of any other way to deal with it, but he was out of options.

Levi wasn't used to seeking out advice, especially when it came to…'personal' problems. He fixed things himself. If you grew up underground you didn't exactly have a choice. Cuts, grazes and visible injuries were one thing, but he'd never really been 'sick' before, not since his childhood, and it wasn't something he could fix himself.

And that was the only explanation for what this was…some 'sickness'.

His physical proficiency meant that he was extremely sensitive to corporeal changes; and he hated feeling like he was in any way out of control of his body. He wasn't used to it, and he wasn't about to get used to it.

For the past three weeks he'd increasingly been having headaches, temperature fluctuations, and his heart, usually completely steady, was a stop-start-stuttering mess. He'd managed to continue with his duties mostly ignoring it, but recently it had been getting worse and worse to the point that he thought he should at least try to see if there was something he could do about it.

He considered that he'd been pulled against the grain lately, and that his problems could be caused by his strange new inclination to spend time with his squad…it was certainly true that his inability to reconcile his new sociability with his solitary disposition was causing a rift within himself, and that he was disorientated by it.

But equally…what if he'd picked up some kind of strange disease that was causing the physical symptoms, and his new found sociability was just an unwelcome side-effect of that? Oruo's cleaning especially left a lot to be desired, it wasn't beyond reason that some mould or mildew had gone overlooked in an afternoon's work and somehow…contaminated him before he'd had the chance to clean it. He grit his teeth.

Either way, the whole ordeal had gone on long enough, and he was certain that if he fixed the physical symptoms, his mind would follow, and he would go back to 'normal', whatever that was.

"If you're sick I'm not sure why you came here, you should go to the medical wing."

The medical wing? It was a struggle enough bringing this up with someone he trusted.

"Hange."

"Yes Levi?"

He stared at them.

Hange put down their pen, sighing.

"Alrighty then. Why don't you tell me some of your symptoms?"

"Tch."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"…"

The seconds drew into minutes.

"As I said before, I can't help you if you don't say anything."

How the hell did people do this. His nails were digging into his arms with such force he was certain he'd drawn blood.

"Not sleeping. No appetite."

Hange raised their eyebrows, "…and that's different to usual?"

He snorted, but then he was opening and closing his mouth at a complete loss, like a damn goldfish.

"I'm getting headaches and a dry throat. Sometimes I feel too hot." Then after a moment, "…my heart won't stop beating."

"Believe it or not, that's a good thing - keeps you alive." They ribbed.

Levi growled.

"Alright, alright sorry. I'm assuming you meant that you have a faster than usual heart-rate. Hmm…" They put a hand on their chin, "It might be dehydration, are ya drinking enough water or…?"

Dehydration? Really? He stared at them and blinked once in stark rejection of their suggestion.

"Ok then, not that. I suppose you could be anaemic, though it does seem unlikely given the amount of beans they serve in the mess hall…"

"A-what?"

Suddenly they were right in front of him with a magnifying glass - far too close for comfort. Their eyebrows were twitching together as they inspected every inch of his face in deep concentration, at one point their noses almost touched as they looked studiously into his eyes.

"Ok, now say aaaah."

He glowered and reluctantly opened his mouth to let them peer at his tongue. He didn't know it was possible to be this uncomfortable.

"Hmmm." They squinted, "Ok, now let me see your nails."

They studied his fingernails for a second and then put an ear to his chest, an action he found particularly vexing.

Levi's scowl remained flawlessly intact, his lips ever down-turned. This was proving much less helpful than he'd hoped.

They took a step back and folded their arms.

"Everything seems normal to me Levi."

What? Were they sure? But…

"Unless, perhaps…have there been any recent significant changes that could be causing you undue stress?"

"I was a lot less stressed before I walked into this disgusting shitheap you call a lab."

They raised an eyebrow and pressed him with their gaze.

He glared back.

"…nothing that's happened that you would consider to be…out of the ordinary? Nerve-wracking?"

"Apart from this conversation? No."

Hange narrowed their eyes, "Hmmm. You never stop fighting do you?"

"Huh?"

"Well it seems to me that your problems are likely being caused by stress, and if you're saying to me that you haven't felt stressed by external events, then I have to assume you are causing the stress yourself."

Levi blinked.

"Maybe you need to do some soul-searching. When our minds and bodies don't align, the stress of it can release toxins into our systems; that might explain some of the symptoms you're describing to me."

"I'm sick, I need a doctor not a therapist."

If Hange had raised their eyebrows further they would have ended up on the back of their head. Levi tried to ignore the glaring implication of it;

'you need both.'

Soul-searching. Tch.

"The only other thing I can suggest is heading on over to the medical wing and they can run some tests for you-"

Levi exhaled firmly, then turned to leave,

"Thanks for the help." He uttered wryly.

Well that was a waste of time.

Week Four - Thursday

"See ya at the run this afternoon."

Ok…

Eld jogged away from the gym in something of a rush, and Petra and Gunther shared a look.

"…right." Petra managed, squinting at the blonde as he ran off into the distance.

"Strange." Gunther said, uncapping his canteen, "Any idea what that was about?" He took a long swig.

"No clue." Petra replied, blinking, "Though he's been a lot flightier ever since…well…you know."

Gunther smirked, "Since a certain special lady put a special spring in his step."

The pair of them began walking back towards the main section of the compound.

"Are you meeting James at the mess hall?"

"Mm." He nodded, "You're welcome to join us if you want."

"No it's ok - thanks though - I have something I've been meaning to do for a while…this lunchtime seems like as good a time as any." She nodded, and began walking away. He stared after her, perplexed;

"Should I know what you're talking about?" He called out.

She giggled, shouting back, "No, don't worry!"

Petra left briskly for the stables, leaving a baffled Gunther behind. She slowed her pace as she approached them, coming to stand flat up against the stone wall by the entrance. Moments later Oruo exited with his horse, mounted and swiftly rode off.

He hadn't seen her, thank god. She didn't have much time to get her horse ready to tail him either. It looked like he was heading for town. Kinda strange, the town wasn't that far of a walk…

It didn't take her long until she was saddled up on the road behind him and struggling to keep an even distance so she could follow without being spotted if he turned around. He'd always been so evasive when she asked where he went, so now she was taking matters into her own hands.

Mostly she was curious because…well…what on earth could he be doing every single lunch break - didn't he have friends to eat with in the mess hall? But a small part of her was a little worried that something might be going on, and Oruo was perhaps not best equipped to seek help if he needed it.

Oof. She winced, and put a hand to her stomach. Here it was, that time of the month. She usually didn't get cramps too badly, but the telltale signs were beginning to creep up.

Just her luck. She cursed the military and their decision to kit everyone out in white trousers - a decision clearly made by someone who did not have periods.

Up ahead Oruo stopped at the small patch of grass on the edge of town and tied up his horse to one of the posts by the communal trough.

Right. So he was only going to town, which meant he could have just walked…

Hmmm. She dismounted and tied up her own horse before striding off in the direction she'd see him go in. She was able to keep up fairly easily; her minor injuries from the race had all but vanished, save the slight red marks from the healing grazes on her skin, and her lip which kept splitting due to the cold.

So here she was again, following one of her squad members through the town's streets…maybe she should be talking to a professional about this strange habit. At least this time she had slightly more of a reason for it.

He ducked down a side passage and she jogged a little to keep up, clutching at her stomach again as it began its dull ache. Darn it. Through the other side of the passage, she saw him cross the street and enter a small greengrocers.

Well that was weird. Was she supposed to believe that he spent every lunch break fruit shopping?

She hung on the street a while, scrutinising the shopfront, coming to lean on a wall opposite, hugging her stomach. It was small and cute, likely family run, and busy. A green and white striped awning sheltered a variety of fruits and vegetables from the sun.

Was it perhaps a front for something more sinister? A drugs operation? Was Oruo a part of the black market now? In some ways it was the perfect cover, no-one would suspect…

…except she was suspecting, and she was no detective. Hell, she couldn't even solve the conundrum of who'd sent her that little poem or that congratulatory box of chocolates. Jeez. She needed to get a grip. She was worrying about nothing and she could hear her father's voice again: You're catastrophising! Petra!

Oruo was probably just in there buying some bananas.

She waited, and waited. Still he didn't appear. It was starting to get weird; weirder than it already was. She couldn't see him through the shop window either…

…hold on. She tentatively pushed off the wall and crossed the street, eyes wide.

Oruo was in the shop…working behind the till.

Oh.

What?

Her mind began racing. Why in three walls would he be working in a shop…?

Unless…for some reason he needed more money…there was no way you'd work in a shop on top of your regular (extremely intense, occasionally life-threatening) job just for the fun of it, surely.

Hmm. She picked up an orange from a basket out front and pushed through the door, then stood, behind a couple of folk in the line, clutching it with both hands, nails nervously digging in to the rind.

It finally made sense why he'd taken his horse. If he only had an hour's lunch break then he'd have to get into town and out again as quickly as possible to complete what she imagined was a rather short daily shift.

The whole thing was quite unbelievable, and she knew she had to confront him about it, right now. It were better to ask him here where he couldn't deny it - Oruo certainly wasn't above bending the truth.

"Next." Came his rather bored voice. He hadn't spotted her yet, too busy disinterestedly packing vegetables into paper bags and handing them to customers.

She cleared her throat, holding the orange out under his chin.

"How much is this please?" She said sternly, and waited as his eyes slid from the orange in her hand and up to her raised eyebrows.

"P- P-" He stammered, his previously weary expression immediately animated with panic, "Petra - uh."

The orange was unwavering under his chin while she skewered him with her eyes.

"Oruo," her sharp voice asserted, "how much for the orange?"

He turned frantically around, "Henrik - I need five minutes." He called to a grey-haired, kind-faced older gentleman on the shop floor; likely the owner. Henrik nodded and gestured with his hand to the door.

Oruo didn't need much encouragement; he swept around the counter, grabbing Petra's orange-free hand with his clammy one, an action which she found a little perplexing, and dragged her out of the store, where he immediately began to berate her;

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Following me Petra?! I know you're obsessed with me but this crosses a line."

She blinked multiple times, catching a passing child's wide eyes. The child's mother immediately grabbed his hand and pulled him away, tutting in their direction.

"Oruo, language." She said, her voice fast and low, "Do you want to draw more attention to yourself? Boy, Eld was right, maybe you should have been an actor - you sure do like to make a scene…"

"Urgh. Fuck." He huffed, gritting his teeth, guiding her off the main street to the entrance of a small alleyway by the side of the shop, lowering his voice to an angry hiss, "Fuck. Why would you…just go back to the grounds, enjoy your pissing lunch."

She scowled at him, "What's going-"

"Why are you really here, huh? Are you that jealous of Lina that you-"

"No! By the walls would you just stop it!"

Petra wanted to slap him. She'd come because she was worried, to see if he needed help; she should have known he'd be a nightmare about it. She winced, the ache in her abdomen was intensifying. She blew air through her nose and held the orange up to his face in a threatening way;

"For the love of god, why are you working during your break? Are you here every day?" She was exasperated, she couldn't believe he'd be exhausting himself like this. She also couldn't believe that he'd managed to keep this up without being found out. His stamina was truly impressive.

He sneered at the orange, "What are you planning on doing with that - squeezing juice in my eye till I tell you?"

"…would that work?"

"What I do with my free time is none of your damn business, so stop sticking your little nose where it doesn't belong."

"Oruo."

She pursed her lips, he folded his arms and they glared at one another. After a few seconds of crossly staring she slowly brought the orange away from his face, wrangling her irritation with her worry, "If you need money that badly I'm sure there's something we can do. Have you spoken to the Captain? Maybe he can-"

"Hmph. The Captain doesn't give a shit what we do with our free time."

"He cares more than you think he does."

Oruo rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious. And if even if you were right and he didn't care about your money problems or whatever this is, he'd certainly care when you're exhausted from working two jobs and endangering the whole squad on the next expedition."

Oruo scowled at the floor.

"Why don't you just talk to him about it and then you could-"

"Shhh!" He grabbed her and pulled her next to him, flat up against the wall of the alley.

"Oruo for god's sake- you never liste-"

"Shut up - look."

Huh…? He pointed into the street.

—

Stamps? Bought. Letter home? Sent. For real this time.

Eld was walking on air. He was practically skipping down the street. Now for his final stop.

The air was so fresh today.

He caught himself waving to random people, and wasn't even slightly embarrassed about it.

This was the place, he smiled to himself. Taking a deep breath of the crisp air, he nodded and ducked into the shop.

—

Petra and Oruo's mouths hung open as they watched Eld basically skip down the road, and then enter a fancy looking shop further down the street.

Oruo coughed, "Well. I think we both know the next stop on your 'stalking your squad-mates' itinerary."

She clouted him, "You are not off the hook."

He snorted, "I have a shift to get back to, if you don't mind."

He pushed past her to the street;

"Wait!" she yelled after him; but he ignored her and strode moodily back into the greengrocer. Petra stood at the alley entrance, torn for a moment.

Now what? Should she harangue Oruo during his shift until he told her why he needed a second job? Or should she follow Eld into the fancy shop?

Darn it. For goodness' sake. Oruo's pride would be the death of him. She'd follow Eld for now, and harass Oruo later now that she'd confronted him. That made sense, then she wouldn't get in the way of the nice old man's lunchtime vegetable sales. She glanced down at the orange. Balls…she'd have to pay him for it later. Time was of the essence.

She paced down the street and to the exterior of the shop they'd seen Eld enter:

Mc'Almont & Sons Jewellers

Frozen on the spot she stood agape, eyes glued to the sign, tightly gripping the orange in both hands. She instantly knew why he was in there. It couldn't have been clearer. The past few days none of them had seen Eld without a smile on his face; but they also hadn't seen him very much at all. When he was about, he was singing and humming around their quarters to such a degree that the Captain had made a snide comment about it at morning coffee, and the other three had to try and not openly guffaw.

First Gunther, now Eld…she truly was a natural matchmaker. Her heart was aflutter. She only wished she could match herself with someone…

Since their evening chat nothing had changed between her and the Captain. They'd carried on as they always had; speaking minimally and professionally, going about their days in the usual regimented way. A part of her was angry with herself for allowing the seed of hope to sprout when she'd awoken on the couch that Sunday morning…she imagined how she'd gotten there, knowing that she'd neither taken off her coat or boots, nor fallen asleep on the sofa in the first place; ergo he had to have removed those items for her, carried her there, and put the blanket over her. Whenever she thought of it, warmth spread throughout her body and she felt centred and bright, a tingling in her limbs.

But that was silly. It was likely that that one lovely evening with him was all she'd ever get, heck, it was more than she was entitled to. And his actions…he was just looking out for a member of his squad, making sure she was well-rested (well…better rested than she would have been on the wooden chair), nothing more.

She chewed the inside of her lip. The intensity of her affection was becoming harder and harder to deny, and she began to consider the strong possibility that she wasn't going to get past it.

She wondered if she could treat the blossoming feelings like a titan; that she just had to find and cut out the nape of them and they'd come crashing down in gusts of billowing smoke, and she'd realise that though they'd seemed giant, they weren't made of very much at all.

If she only knew where that nape was…

No.

That wasn't right in the slightest. She could kid herself all she wanted - this was a substantial complication that wasn't going away any time soon: there was no fix-all for this. She'd been skirting around herself, swimming in the shallows of her thoughts on the subject, terrified to go deeper in case she drowned.

The one positive was that she'd managed to retain her focus completely during training. She had to give herself a little credit for that. She was ever-determined, ever-committed; but the lines of what she was committed to were changing little by little.

Luckily for her, it was her job to die for her Captain if ordered to do so, to diligently follow his every order, to bend to his every will in the field and training…the problem was that she knew she wanted to do that in her time off too, if he wished it. Especially the bending part.

Petra!

She sighed.

Wasn't this what people wrote novels about? These feelings? Secret shared moments, pounding hearts and snatched breath?

What about her all-consuming, swallowing awareness of him whenever he was anywhere nearby? And when he wasn't, her persistent wondering where he might be? Her tireless studying of his expressions when he wasn't looking, hoping that somehow she'd glimpse something, a shred of intention, anything that could suggest that he might care for her more than a Captain should for his subordinate?

She was swimming out into her mind's lake, and her feet could no longer touch the bottom. It was so much worse than she'd thought. How had she denied it for so long?

Her hands began to tremble.

She was burning, and what was more, she was burning for someone who would likely never know, or notice. For someone unparalleled, someone invaluable to the survival of their entire species. For someone who could never want her, and who she could never have.

He didn't want her.

Even if he did, he couldn't…no; why even entertain the possibility? He didn't want her. He would never want her, not like that.

What the hell was she doing? She began to feel the stinging behind her eyes.

Idiot Ral. You're an idiot.

Tears welled up as she gazed down at the bruised orange. What a mess. What could she do?

She looked up from the fruit and straight into the eyes of love.

"Petra?" Eld asked, standing in the doorway to the shop.

She bit down on her lower lip, trying to hold in a waterfall of tears, "Eld…" she said weakly, "are you here for the reason I think you're here?"

It was then that she noticed the small black box clutched tightly in his hand. He was forcing back a smile, but quickly lost the battle, opening the box to reveal a simple silver ring; a single blue stone shone up at her.

The tears streamed down her face, "Oh my god." She ran and hugged him tightly as he laughed freely and easily.

Her mind was spinning, this was all too much. In a matter of seconds she'd gone from the miserable depths of self-pity to the dizzying heights of compersion. How was it possible to feel so happy and so sad at the same time?

After a minute or so, they broke apart.

"Congratulations you two!" An old lady said, hobbling past them with her partner.

"Oh this isn't" They began simultaneously, stammering, "We're not-"

They laughed together as the old couple walked on, perplexed, and Petra was truly glad for the relief of trivial misunderstanding.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "Eld." She said seriously, "I can't believe it. Are you sure? I mean I'm thrilled for you but - you've only known her, what, four days?"

"Five days, and I've never been so sure of anything before in my whole life." He beamed, his brown eyes glinting with purest paradise, "She goes back to Ehrmich district this weekend. I need to ask her before she goes."

"I can't believe it." She said again.

"I never thought I'd be this lucky. I met the perfect woman." He closed the box quietly, shaking his head, "This time last week I was bitching about how I had nothing going on, and now I can't imagine a life without Harriet. No-one ever tells you how quickly you can fall for someone."

It was a sentiment she wished she didn't understand. She felt a lump in her throat.

Ow. She'd been so preoccupied she'd managed to forget the pain that had been slowly building up in her abdomen, and now it was returning with a vengeance. She hissed and put her hands to it.

"You alright?" He asked, concerned.

"Yeah, just…" She gulped, "you know. Pain." She gave him a look.

"Oh - ah right." He was a little startled, "Is that why you came into town? To go to the pharmacy?"

She paused a moment "…yeah. Yeah it is."

A knock disturbed Levi from lighting the final candle in his office; he dropped the match and it extinguished on the table. He exhaled irritably.

"What."

The door creaked as it opened, "Captain?"

He met Eld's eye with a less than impressed expression, and Eld laughed lightly, scratching his neck,

"Sorry sir - disappointed?"

Levi's features darkened ever more, and he bitterly struck a new match with a fierce flick of his wrist, returning to the unlit candle.

"Petra's still not feeling so great, so I told her I was taking her place this evening helping you out with paperwork, if that's alright with you sir. For the record, she did protest…"

Levi froze, the flame burning down the wood towards his fingers, the wax of the candle melting from the proximity. He watched the light inch ever nearer to his hand, and at the last moment, waved it out. The candle remained unlit.

"And how do you imagine you can help? A big part of Petra's job is rewriting your shitty reports."

Eld smiled and raised his eyebrows. Nothing fazed him any more, the sappy bastard.

"I can always go and get Gunther if-"

"No." Levi breathed, "No. It's fine. Go back to the barracks."

"Captain…"

"Go back to the barracks."

Eld saluted and left, closing the door with a click. Levi leant his hands on the desk, staring hard at the just-closed office door. If he were being honest, he wasn't behind on his paperwork any more. He suspected Petra'd noticed too; how could she not, she'd been finishing earlier and earlier each time.

He was trying to ignore the voice that told him that he'd only roped her in to assist for a month; a month that would be up shortly following the expedition next week. He didn't need her help any more, but, acknowledging it made his chest a little tight. He couldn't deny that he'd much preferred the work while she was there, and he was disappointed at the prospect that his paperwork evenings would return to their previous cold solitude.

She had looked pale during the afternoon's exercises, and she'd been quiet too. He was pretty sure he knew why. There were some benefits to spending your early years in a whorehouse. He opened his bottom desk drawer and plucked out a small green bottle with a faded label and placed it in his pocket. Then, he gathered a folder of paperwork, extinguished the candles and left.

It didn't take long for him to reach the barracks. He breezed past the open common room door, catching sight of Eld, Gunther and Oruo playing some dumb game (which seemed to consist of building a tower with wooden blocks and trying not to be the one to knock it down).

"Joining us Captain?"

He heard Eld shout, but he was already away down the hall, and standing outside Petra's door. He hesitated, then mentally berated himself for hesitating, rapping on the door with some force.

After a few seconds, he heard her confused voice, "Uh…come in? It's unlocked."

He turned the wooden doorknob and stepped into the tidy candlelit room, closing the door behind him.

Clearly not expecting to see him in the slightest, she flapped around, startled, and began to get out of bed in a fluster;

"C-Captain! I'm sorry - I told Eld that I could-"

"Sit down." He ordered, and she stopped, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.

She swallowed, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Did you want me to take a look at the forms in that folder sir?"

He glanced down at the folder in his hand briefly, then back at her. He'd almost forgotten he was holding it.

"No."

Then he strode decisively towards her, somewhat enjoying her trepidation as he neared where she was sat, only to pass by her and place the small bottle from his pocket firmly on her bedside table. He turned, and made his way back to the door, stopping to look over his shoulder at her.

Her expression, though confused, was soft, her lips slightly parted and her brow slightly furrowed. He couldn't help but notice that the pale yellow of her night shirt brought out the coppery colours in her hair and eyes in very pleasing way.

"Sir?"

"Eucalyptus oil. Two to three drops where it hurts."

—

He left quickly.

Petra was in a daze; head spinning in the aftermath of a tornado which'd sped around her room, and she half expected everything to be in disarray, clothes in dishevelled piles about the place, the desk knocked over, papers everywhere. She blinked. Her room was as neat and tidy as it always was. Besides, the Captain would never leave a room in a state, even metaphorically.

She felt a little delirious. She clutched her stomach. The pain wasn't letting up, and the tablets she'd gotten from the pharmacy hadn't been very effective. She hated that it had affected her performance in the afternoon and she'd fought Eld extensively when he'd said he'd take her place doing the paperwork, but he won out, as she'd had to sit down for feeling faint.

Slowly she reached out for the small green bottle and squinted at the faded label. It was mostly illegible but she could make out a single handwritten name 'Isabel'.

Week Four - Friday

Levi watched from a short distance away as the squad unhooked their blade boxes from their harnesses, laughing about something or other.

"That concludes my weekly observations of your squad, Levi."

Erwin's voice boomed as he came to stand next to the shorter man. Levi said nothing, only sent him a sidewards glance before returning his gaze to his team as they ambled off, gear in hands, towards the mess hall.

"You've chosen well. Their improvement has been steady and it looks to me like a good fit. All that remains to see now is how this set-up will serve us on an expedition."

It was bright for such a cold day, and the sunlight was bouncing off of Petra's ginger hair.

…radiant.

"Levi."

"If they survive this next expedition, they'll only get stronger."

From the corner of his eye, Levi saw Erwin frown, and nod, "Let us hope that they do then."

Notes:

Hi!

Sorry this was more delayed than I'd wanted!

Please note I've changed the rating on this fic too...not for any specific reason...I just wanted to give myself options I guess...? Who knows...

Anyway I hope everyone's having a great week :)

Chapter 20: Nothing to Lose

Chapter Text

Week Five - Expedition Week - Monday

The atmosphere around the grounds was wired - half with the hyperactivity of preparation, and half fraught due to anticipation of casualties. It was unmistakeable, a mood that every veteran was well accustomed too. This time though, Petra was being pulled in by it more than usual, her new squad was constantly planned for the front lines - enemy detection, then stationed to protect the squads setting up the first ever titan traps around the supply point, a small town about a day's ride away. The entire expedition was expected to last three days, leaving on Wednesday and returning Friday, the Thursday was for restocking the dilapidated town with supplies, and for said titan trap experiments.

"Thanks so much for this - I really owe ya one." Moblit chattered from beneath his giant pile of documents.

"No problem." Petra chirped, from beneath her own stack as they shuffled down the corridor towards the lab, "Our schedule is much more relaxed this week anyway - the afternoons are down as 'prep'." She smiled, "So I'm free to help out wherever you need."

It was standard practice in the few days before an expedition for squads' schedules to be calmer - rather than regular training (which was cut short to be mornings only), duties consisted of readying wagons, gear maintenance and organising horses. For the research squads though, this time was essential for last minute tweaks and a rush to compile things for field experiments; they had such limited time on the expedition to pull things off, and therefore a mountain of risk assessments and paperwork to climb; everything had to be planned down to the tiniest detail and contingency.

Petra placed her pile of papers on a messy desk in the lab with some uncertainty, and looked over the large room with wide eyes. She'd never been inside it before, and it looked like it had been the victim of a raid, or explosion, or both.

"Uh - yeah there is fine!" Moblit babbled, balancing his own pile precariously on another pile of something or other - it was hard to make out what most things in the lab were at first glance.

He scratched his neck, laughing awkwardly, "It's not usually this messy I promise, expedition week is a little hectic - what with the new experiments coming up and everything…"

Petra tittered, "I know I'm on the Captain's squad but my tolerance for clutter is a lot higher than his."

"Thank the walls." Moblit exhaled, "Please could you make sure he doesn't happen across this room in the next couple of days? I'm not sure any of our nerves could handle the fallout."

She beamed, "I'll try my hardest."

"Bless you."

There were all sorts of scientific-looking posters pinned up on the walls, diagrams, mathematical equations, engineering plans, but one corner particularly interested her. It was covered in posters of technical drawings of wildlife with labelled parts. Out of all of the tacked up wall hangings, these were the most beautiful and she found herself studying them for a few minutes as Moblit bustled around.

Hmm…here was one certain print, of pond life, depicting detailed drawings of plants and insects that could be found there, marsh marigolds, irises, newts and-

"Oh NO!" Moblit shouted,

There was a huge crash and several ongoing clangs as the stack of random odds and ends Moblit had placed his papers onto clattered to the floor, papers drifting aimlessly through the air.

"What's going on?!" In a matter of seconds Nifa had sprinted into the room and stopped dead at the disastrous mess in front of her. She tapped her cheek, "I suppose it was getting quite untenable…" as the frantic Moblit once again ran around collecting documents.

If the research squad weren't so hard pressed Petra might've found it funny.

"Here, let me help you with that." She smiled and began picking up spare parts.

Week Five - Expedition Week - Tuesday

Erwin stood gazing out the window of his office to the bustling courtyard below.

"Did you call me in here so I could watch you stare out the window?" Levi uttered dryly.

There was too much he had to do, and he wasn't appreciating being slowed down by Erwin's nonsense.

"I've heard reports that it may snow." The Commander said airily, unmoving from his position.

"Great. So what, we're supposed to ride out in zero visibility? You might as well serve us up on a giant plate to the bastards. Or, are you planning on pushing the expedition back?"

"Impossible. We can't push it back at this late stage. The funding we'd lose would bankrupt us. Not only that, but all the preparation for this excursion will have gone to waste. We can't afford to lose ground."

"…"

Erwin took a focused breath and turned back to face him.

"From what I've been told the snow is only due to arrive on Friday, the day we ride back. Our best shot is to try and leave as early as possible so we're closer to the wall by the time it happens; possibly before dawn. The titans will be less active then, so the risk of casualties will be lower."

"If it's unavoidable, what's the point in telling me?"

"To keep you on guard. I'm having a notice distributed to each squad so they are made aware of that possibility before we ride out. It's better to be prepared."

Levi stared at him for a long moment. That couldn't be the only reason Erwin had called him in.

"You've sent out a notice, so you didn't need to call me in here."

Erwin faintly smiled, "Yes. That's right, I didn't." He took a short breath and looked at Levi squarely, "I need to ask you if you're still committed to the Scout's mission."

…

What the hell? What was Erwin playing at? The expedition was a day away, and he wanted to spend the last remaining time fannying about playing mind games and questioning Levi's commitment?

He knew Levi would follow him whatever his command. This was nothing more than an ego massage.

Tch.

"This is a waste of time." Levi turned and headed for the door.

"Levi."

He stopped. His whole body frustrated by the command, but he wouldn't defy Erwin. Air deeply filled his lungs, and he turned back to face the taller man, having somewhat composed himself.

Erwin suddenly seemed towering as he stood sternly in front of the window; silhouetted in gold and yellow light, a King addressing his Knight. His smile had completely vanished and his eyes had emptied of their prior warmth.

Levi's cold flint stare met his Commander's.

"On an expedition there is always the chance that huge sacrifices will need to be made. I need to know that you are able to let that happen, should it become necessary."

Levi blinked.

…why bring this up now?

His hard stare didn't waver; "My commitment to the Scout's mission hasn't changed, nor will it. I trust that whatever decisions you make will be in line with humanity's best interests."

Erwin's shoulders relaxed. He gazed down at the desk and the faint smile returned to his face.

Levi remained resolute, "Why the sudden need to ask?"

"A lot has changed of late. You are perfectly right…" Erwin's brows knit together, "humanity's best interests…it is imperative to remind ourselves to put them above our own."

"Is that all?"

Erwin glanced back up sincerely, his monstrous brows easing,

"Yes. Thank you Levi."

—

Erwin watched as the Captain pulled the door closed behind him, then sat at his desk, pensive.

Levi, almost since the moment Erwin had met him, had had nothing to lose. A pessimist might muse that he'd had nothing much to live for. That was what made him an ideal soldier; he wasn't held back by fear, a rare quality. Even the bravest among the corps were susceptible, most, if not all were scared of death, even if they would never readily admit it.

There was no question in Erwin's mind that Levi's loyalties lay with him, to the scouts - but - Erwin'd also noticed that distant gaze of wanting, that gentle interest that had, for the briefest of seconds flickered across the shorter man's features in the presence of his new subordinate. In all the time they'd known one another, it was the closest Levi had ever come to looking hopeful; and it was a look a dreamer such as Erwin would recognise anywhere, on anyone.

As his close friend, it was to be celebrated, encouraged. Levi'd had the darkest life of any soldier he'd ever met, and it personally brought him nothing but delight to see the man soften to a spark of sunlight. After all, who was Erwin to deny a man who had suffered endlessly from basking in love's sweet rapture; even if his attempts to get Levi to verbalise such feelings had thus far proven fruitless.

As his Commander however, it was a situation that needed some monitoring. Romance was by no means forbidden in the Survey Corps, so long as it didn't interfere with duty, and Erwin needed to make sure that Levi knew that. If Levi could fall in love without becoming distracted, and within the knowledge that no-one was guaranteed survival in their chosen career path, then they would have no problems.

It was a sensitive situation, and one he was certain that the Captain had very little experience in, therefore Erwin felt obligated to remind him of his ultimate responsibility.

He suspected that the situation had the potential to improve Levi's performance, assuming Petra felt the same way. Perhaps the man'd get more sleep, be more agreeable, then he could secure more funding at benefits. And it wouldn't be the first time love had been advantageous: the intimate relationship between Mike and Nanaba was all but common knowledge (it had been for quite some time), the pair of them had been nothing but professional and their field stats had actually improved.

He had to trust that Levi would fundamentally not allow his personal feelings to interfere with the Scouts' mission.

He wanted to see his friend bask in that sunlight.

Finally.

Petra'd searched high and low, and here he was, the arrogant ass, oiling and sharpening the squad's gear in a spare room of the gear store. They'd all split up to do various errands this afternoon, and Petra had rushed through her chores to get to Oruo while he was on his own.

Ever since she'd followed him to his second job at the green grocer, he'd made a point of never being alone in a room with her, which she found infuriating. He really didn't want her to know why he needed the extra money, which only served to worry her all the more.

"Found you." She said quietly from the doorway, pursing her lips.

Oruo stopped oiling momentarily, as though to acknowledge her presence, but continued without looking up.

"Do you need any help?" She asked.

"No." He grumbled.

He looked more tired than usual, the lines were more pronounced in his face. She stooped and knelt in front of him.

"I didn't mean with oiling the gear."

He stopped again, his brows twitching erratically together and, though he'd turned his face away, she swore she could see his lip wobbling slightly.

"Leave me alone." He said, but his voice was so quiet it was hard to make it out.

"No." She replied, grabbing his hand, "No. You're going to tell me what's going on."

He brought his sad hazel eyes to her and relinquished the oil rag, perhaps broken down by their sudden closeness. Her worried gaze studied his lined face for a moment, imploring him; she could help him through whatever this was, they'd been through so much together already. Even if she was only an ear to his troubles, that might surely lessen the burden a little.

"My little sister Olga." He began slowly and dropped his eyes again, "My parents can't afford the medicine they need to…she's getting sicker so I…" He swallowed, struggling to ward off an onslaught of emotion, "I've always sent them money anyway, but it wasn't enough anymore - that's why I picked up the extra work. It's not much, but anything I can send to help I will. Then Eld told me my last few letters didn't even make it back."

Petra's heart ached. What could she possibly say? She tightened her grip on his hand.

"…I'm so sorry." She whispered.

"Yeah. Well."

"Have you heard any recent news about how she's doing?"

He sniffed, eyes still glued to the ground, "She's stable, she has enough medicine for a week or so and now that I've re-sent my letters, they should be able to buy more."

Petra's shoulders relaxed a little and she tried to catch his eyes, "That's something at least."

He stiffened, wrenching his hand out of her grip, "Are you happy now?"

A sigh fell out of her, but she spoke gently;

"No, of course not. That's…really awful. But…thank you for telling me, it's not something you should have to bear alone."

"Pfft."

He snatched up the rag and began furiously scrubbing at a part of Eld's gear, and she watched him carefully. He could be so stubborn, yet he'd confided in her, and she was proud of him for that.

"I still think you should tell Captain Levi." She eventually ventured.

He snorted, "He'd kick me off the squad faster than you could say 'nice cravat'.'"

"Not about the second job; about your family. There are infrastructures in place for things like that, I'm sure of it. I've read about it in sections of the forms when I've helped him with paperwork - you could apply for extra compensation or paid compassionate leave."

"Yeah right Petra, the scouts are broke. They aren't going to pay for me to-"

"Just - try it. You won't know until you try." She eyed him, "Please."

He stopped once again.

"Alright."

A hopeful smile grew over her face, "You will?"

"Yeah. Alright."

"Rummy." Eld said smugly, laying his entire hand down on the table.

"What? You've got to be joking." Gunther scowled.

"No way." Petra pawed through Eld's hand, scanning each card, "I can't believe you!"

"Luck of the draw losers."

And Eld had to be the luckiest man in the world - which was particularly helpful because they had an expedition tomorrow, and he very much needed to survive it.

It hadn't been the most traditional proposal, taking place on the path back to the barracks when they returned from a fancy(ish) restaurant; but the way Harriet's eyes lit up, the blue of the stone the perfect match of them, he wouldn't have changed it for a second. The way she'd cried, clutched her mouth and somehow even amid the whirlwind of feelings managed to remain elegant. How her hair had shone in under the street light, mousey strands lighting up with golds and the way her smooth, lilting voice had sounded as she threw herself into his trembling arms (they'd pretty much collapsed in a kissing heap on the street); he didn't know what he'd done to deserve her.

He wasn't going to die. Not before he met her family or she met his. Not before he watched her walk down the aisle towards him, the angel she was. Not before they'd spent nights relaxing together, cuddled in front of some fireplace, laughing and fucking and joking around.

Man. This future that he'd convinced himself would never happen…suddenly real in a full spectrum of colours.

"I think you're cheating - you have to be," Petra was flipping through her hand, shaking her head, "there's no way someone can win that many hands in a row-"

"You're right Red," Gunther said, eyes narrowing, "It doesn't make sense."

"You dealt the cards man!" Eld held up his hands, "I don't know what you want from me."

Petra frowned, then reluctantly stood from her seat, and chalked another tally point onto the scoreboard under Eld's name. The disparity in the points drawn up at this point was comical.

"Could we play something else? There's surely something either of us have a shot of winning." She said seriously, "It's not that fun otherwise."

Eld smiled. The thought of the squad stood behind him at the altar suited up as his best 'men' had floated through his head a few times. When he'd told them Harriet'd said yes, Petra had once again squealed and flung herself towards him, then, somewhat unexpectedly, Gunther joined them in a group hug. Even Oruo gave him a solid pat on the back and a nod, and they'd shared a knowing look; Erika's tarot cards had proven more correct than he'd ever have imagined…

His grin widened. The Bozads: family of mystics.

"I don't mind." He stroked his chin, "I'll thrash you at a different game if that's what you really want."

"Petra."

The Captain's voice cut through their babbling as he stood in the doorway blankly.

"Y-yes sir?" She stammered a little, eyes wide at the short man who'd once again appeared from nowhere.

With a flick of his wrist, he produced a red envelope, his head cocked. His bored gaze held the attention of the room for a moment.

Gunther frowned and scratched his head, "A second letter? Huh. So that's still going on?"

"Still going on?" Eld fixed him with a look, "We've got a wager going in case you forgot."

"Right." Gunther blinked; it couldn't have been more obvious that he had.

"Actually it's the third." Petra said bashfully, "After the race I got a gift and note saying congratulations…but it still didn't really shed any light-"

She stopped, as the Captain had strode towards her and was holding the letter out unblinking, with a particularly hard expression. He often looked stern, but there was something about the directness of his action, his focused frown and his immediate proximity to her that seemed unusual, though Eld couldn't put a finger on why.

He shrugged, the Captain could be a strange guy.

"Thank you sir." Petra mumbled, tentatively taking the letter from him. She moved to put in in her pocket-

"No!" Eld blurted, "Petra - you gotta open it now."

Gunther turned around in his chair to face her, and raised his eyebrows; she looked back with question.

"You think I should open it too?"

"If you aren't comfortable, then don't." Gunther replied, "But it'd be nice if we could work out who it is before the expedition tomorrow…"

She blinked at him, then at the envelope, then hesitantly turned to face the Captain, who had been staring at her sharply all the while, arms crossed, eyes steely. The look between them lasted a peculiarly long time before she timidly opened her mouth, "…sir?" She asked, and he blinked, breaking the eye contact, and moved his attention to Eld and Gunther. He blew air through his nose and closed his eyes as the room waited for him.

"Do whatever you want." He grumbled, then swiftly walked out.

Petra looked crestfallen.

"Ignore him, everyone gets a little weird the night before we ride out." Eld stretched his arms out over his head, "You gonna open it or what?"

His words seemed to brighten her a little, and she pulled out her chair to rejoin them at the table.

"P." Gunther stated flatly, reading the front of the envelope, "Strange."

Eld nodded, "Yeah, I mean can this person not spell your name?"

Petra tittered, "Hmm.." tearing open the back, "It sure is mysterious."

She pulled the letter from the envelope and unfolded it, cleared her throat and read aloud;

"It seems to me since my last note

I've gained some competition

Someone to whom your heart devotes

And I have my suspicions…

The choice of course is yours to make

But for your sweet disposition

I'll have to ask you face to face

After the expedition…"

Petra raised her eyebrows, staring at the note in amazement.

Eld narrowed his eyes, scrutinising Gunther. He really was a sensational actor if he was sending these letters, he seemed genuinely surprised by its contents. The relationship between the two of them was still shrouded in mystery, and rather than becoming clearer as time went on, it seemed to be becoming harder to put a pin in. Where did they disappear off to in the evenings? Were they an item? Did they crush on each other? Was it one sided? Eld had no idea, but he was suspicious.

"You won't have to wait long." Gunther had a hand on his chin, "Sounds like they'll tell you who they are after the trip."

"But - competition? What's that all about?" Eld questioned, "Could it mean that Garrison soldier you were flirting with at the bar that time - Wal…ford…"

"…someone to whom your heart devotes…" Petra read again, and placed the letter down on the table;

"I mean…'devote your hearts': that's quite clear…it could be any scout. But 'suspicions'…what do they suspect?" She sighed, "With every new letter it gets more and more confusing."

Eld picked up the note and squinted at it, "You're right - this handwriting is really dreadful, I'm surprised you could read it at all."

"Have you noticed anyone acting strangely around you - different to usual?" Gunther asked.

Petra shrugged, the light energy was again draining out of her, "No. All I can say is if this is some elaborate prank of yours Eld, it's not funny."

Eld jolted, dropping the letter, "Huh? Petra we talked about this - it's not me."

They stared at him seriously.

"Guys." Eld folded his arms, "I'm not that much of an asshole."

Gunther looked blank and Petra's brows twitched with concern, "It's the only answer to this that makes any sense right now."

Eld was unimpressed, "It makes no sense - come on you guys, think about it. Why would I want to disappoint Petra like that? And why would I start a bet about something that I know I'd lose? That's not my idea of a good time."

His two squad mates looked at one another.

"Besides, are you that down on yourself that you think you wouldn't have a secret admirer?"

Petra looked at him for a long moment, then gave a sad smile, "Sorry Eld. I think I'm a little jittery about tomorrow. I'm not thinking straight."

"Right." Gunther nodded, "Maybe it's time we all went to bed, got a few intense days ahead, it's better we're all properly rested."

"Definitely." Eld stood up, and began sliding the cards across the table into a pile, "You guys go on, I'll clear up here."

"Are you sure?" Petra stood, looking at him with shining eyes, "I don't mind helping."

She clearly felt bad about her accusation. It was hard to be miffed at her, kinda like being mad at a puppy.

He smiled, "It's no problem. I'll see ya tomorrow morning."

The three of them shared a brief silent moment of understanding. Though they'd never said it, they were each curious of the coming days. It felt as though they were stood on the precipice of a great new experience, even though they'd each been on many expeditions before.

"Goodnight Eld." Petra called as she wandered out the door.

"Night." Gunther mumbled.

"Night lovebirds." Eld said quietly, blowing out the candles on the table.

Gunther doubled back, "What?"

He hung in the doorframe, his face plastered with confusion.

"Huh?" Eld replied catching his eyes.

"Did you say something?" Gunther asked.

Eld smirked, "No, nothing. Just - night losers."

Levi had his arms crossed and was sat at his desk in his room staring at the wall with such burning intensity it was a miracle that the paint didn't peel away. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting this way, but his head was all hot again and he was pissed off.

Sending his subordinate another anonymous letter, the night before an expedition? Wasn't one letter and one damn box of chocolates enough to get your shitty point across?

"Tch."

And now, not only was Petra distracted by it, but he was as well. It was of the utmost importance that the squads were focused and well-rested the entire week of the expedition, let alone the night just before it.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. The hell was the deal? What if Petra was distracted by thinking of the letters while in the field and endangered herself - what if she endangered the rest of the squad? Him? It was beyond moronic.

He took a deep breath.

He had to trust his squad more than that. He'd chosen them exactly because he knew none of them would make any of those foolish mistakes. None of them would be that easily distracted, including Petra.

His heart was pounding.

She wouldn't be interested in it. She couldn't be. Not once had he seen her look even remotely happy about receiving one of those dumbass love-notes.

He huffed with such force that the candle went out.

Petra couldn't sleep.

Her mind was flitting around between worry and excitement. She'd never felt more prepared for an expedition; she was so much stronger than she was a month ago, but also it had been more than a year since she'd ridden out as part of a new squad, and she'd never been stationed on the front lines for an entire trip.

She was confident in the squad. She knew they'd all come back alive; but a little bit of her wanted it to all be over now, so that she could say that she'd completed her first trip beyond the walls with them. None of them had said as much, but she knew in her heart, that her true elite squad trial was the next few days. When they rode back into town on Friday, that was when they could truly call themselves the most elite squad. That was when her induction ended, and she became an official member of Squad Levi.

She pulled the blankets tightly around herself, peering into the gloom. The outlines of the furniture were barely visible and she wondered what time it was, she'd been cycling through the same worries, tossing and turning for what felt like hours.

Maybe she'd get some water, that could be something to do, though she didn't want to wake anyone up…

The Captain was almost definitely still awake; she was so certain of it that she'd be willing to wager Eld - and that guy was lucky.

She smiled a little, picturing walking down the dark corridor to the common room but turning at the last moment; catching sight of the faint glow under the door at the very end of the hall. Then she'd change course, deciding instead to walk towards that glow and stand outside where she could hear the scratching of his pen, perhaps a gruff sigh.

She'd knock, but she wouldn't wait for a reply; she couldn't wait any longer.

Instead, she'd instantly push into the dimly lit room where he'd be sat wearily at his desk, jacket draped over the back of his chair. He'd immediately stand up, and she'd enjoy that her brazen entry and the late hour meant he was unable to completely conceal his surprise, savouring that she had managed to affect him outwardly in any way at all.

"Petra?" He'd say in his beautiful low voice, blinking away his slight bewilderment.

There he was…she'd drink in the lovely sight of him, his dark hair falling in front of his pale grey eyes, his ever-serious look, his straight nose and pointed chin…he was so youthful, so handsome. The most handsome man she'd ever seen.

Petra's breath caught slightly.

She almost laughed at herself. Even here, within the confines of her mind, she was somewhat intimidated by him.

One further, shaky breath…

… and then she would close the freezing, torturous distance between their skin, and kiss him.

Initially, he'd go rigid as her lips met his, his icy eyes open in alarm, watching her closed ones; but then, as she pressed herself against him, humming in bliss, he'd slowly ease up, his eyes falling shut and he'd relax into the perfect moment; as if he'd been hoping for weeks that she'd come to him this way. Her heart would patter as she moved her hands up his back, feeling his body through his shirt, firstly lightly, then with more confidence as he gently returned her kiss; their lips lightly grazing one another in a beautiful dance; and he'd allow himself that tenderness.

She was free; finally able to enjoy the fantasy that she'd so long denied herself, and it felt amazing - as though whatever giant rock she'd tied to herself had been cut away and now she could fly…even if it was only a dream, only for now.

She would tear herself away from him, once again enjoying his surprise before shoving him forcefully towards the bed and he'd fall back to sit on the edge; his silver eyes alight with desperate longing.

In this world he needed her, craved her, and it would be too cruel to deny him.

"Petra…please…" he'd utter quietly as he took in the sight of her above him with barely restrained desire, "ah…"

Petra's eyes closed as her hand slid up her thigh in a gentle caress, her fingers tracing lightly along her skin, finding their way under the fabric of her underwear, to the burning wet heat within. Her hips pushed up to meet her hand as she moved, delirious to her own touch.

In the illusory space their bodies moved as one, and she gasped aloud as each troublesome, unnecessary item of clothing found its way to the floorboards of his bedroom.

What would he think of her if he could see her now? If he knew she'd debase his image in such a way?

She shouldn't want this. She shouldn't want him like this, but in her tortured state the forbidden nature of her desire only made it burn stronger…only spurred her on.

Well, she considered, if she was going to hopelessly pine after him, forever denied, surely it was only fair that she allow herself some small moments of pleasure.

As their fantastic, make-believe ghosts ravished one another, she bit her lip. It was too much, the building pressure of euphoria was beginning to overwhelm her, her free hand began fisting the sheets of her bed and her back arched.

If only it were him touching her, his hands making her see stars.

She couldn't contain herself anymore, so sensitive she was to the thought of him. She shook, unable to hold in the blissful cry of her climax, and it took everything she had not to scream his name as her body pulsed and relaxed in ecstasy and she fell back ever deeper into her bed.

In her mind they were naked and breathless, sweaty and intertwined. In her mind he wanted her so much.

He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Chapter 21: Titan Trap Experiment

Chapter Text

Week Five - Wednesday

The Squad's first Expedition

The crowds lined the streets to send them off as always. Once again the quiet chatter and musings on how the people's hard earned taxes were being spent drifted about, and the scouts tried their best to tune it out.

Levi had the more irritatingly specific challenge of ignoring the constant mentions of his prescribed title 'humanity's strongest' and the varying judgements that lay therein. Why couldn't people mind their own business and keep their damn mouths shut? He was just doing his job.

The energy was slightly different as they plodded through Trost to the gate, his newly bonded squad behind him, Erwin in front. He would prove to the man that nothing about his commitment had changed of late. He shouldn't have to prove it, but if it was what Erwin needed to see from him, then he would do it.

He still hadn't been able to put a finger on why Erwin had called him in for that conversation in his office, why the man'd questioned his commitment. Far as Levi was aware, his squad's stats were consistently improving, he'd been following orders to the letter and was on time with his paperwork.

Hadn't Erwin been the one to say that Levi'd chosen well; that Petra was a good fit and that the squad had made a big improvement? There were no problems with his performance, or his squad's; so, why the lecture?

What could Erwin see this time that Levi couldn't?

He snorted. He hated that Erwin could worm his way into his head.

—

Petra's hands gripped tightly on the reins. The scouts had come to a stand still, awaiting the raising of the gate. She'd never been this close to it before riding through, and it was truly daunting at this proximity, casting a long, cold shadow across them all.

She'd seen Hannah and Jules this morning on the way to the stables, and they shared a hug and let her know where they were positioned. It was bittersweet, their first expedition stationed separately since she could remember. They'd be ok. But she couldn't focus on that now; she had to think about herself, her new squad.

"Alright?" Eld asked, looking across at her. His eyes flicked down to her white knuckles.

She nodded resolutely, brow furrowed, glancing across her three squad mates behind and beside her;

"Let's go kill some colossal jerks."

"Hm." They each nodded in response.

There - in the far distance; lumbering towards them like a giant ugly baby, grinning maniacally, and slobbering. Levi scowled. Disgusting. Just looking at it made him want to kill it, but that would be a waste of time and resources.

"Oruo, fire the flare." He commanded, and Oruo did as asked, the red smoke trailing up high into the air.

It wasn't long until the green smoke appeared from command, and they were again diverted out of a titan's path. It appeared they'd been spectacularly lucky so far, not engaging in combat even once. Perhaps the cold weather and cloudy day was slowing the bastards down.

They kept up pace riding closer to the supply point.

"You had it easy; I've never been on a smoother ride to a supply point before." Oruo swaggered taunting Petra, who was sat stoking the fire with a stick.

"Will you sit down?" She asked him irritably. He was strutting back and forth for no apparent reason.

"Hey, come on." Eld started, he'd come to sit by the fire too after watering the squad's horses. "It's good that the ride in was smooth. We're in a great position now going into tomorrow's experiment and restocking." He caught Petra's eye, "Gunther sleeping?"

She nodded, "Yeah. He's on watch duty in a couple of hours, so he's in the tent."

The sun had just dipped under the horizon and daylight was emptying out of the sky like the final few grains of sand in an hourglass. They'd been unbelievably fortunate on the ride out; only two fatalities and a handful injured. Calling any number of casualties 'fortunate' felt heartless, but it was hard not to feel relieved at that news as a scout; the news was often so grim. It was a remarkable feat really, and the lack of titan encounters had meant that they'd made it to the dilapidated old town in great time, which they were now camped on a hill on the outskirts of.

Oruo sniffed, "I just meant that until you see any real action I'm not sure we can count your induction into this squad as complete."

"For Maria's sake would you please sit down. Or better yet - go to bed - you have watch duty later on too." Petra chided, throwing the stick down, and picking up her metal mug of coffee. They'd had to brew it in a much more basic way due to lack of equipment, and it was much much worse. Did the job at keeping folk awake though.

"Pffft." Oruo looked bemused and crossed his arms, staring out over the remnants of light spilling out of the horizon.

Petra sighed.

"Don't speak too soon Oruo." Eld said, "There's still two full days to get through before you can say this was an easy trip."

He took a sip of his coffee and winced.

"I know, sorry." Petra smiled a little, "It's hard to get it tasting right out here."

"All good. It's still better than the garbage I used to make for the squad."

"You can say that again." Oruo grumbled, and Eld ignored him, continuing;

"To be honest, we're lucky we get it at all."

The three of them sat (…Oruo stood) silently for a while, until the sky had turned pitch black except for the stars. No-one had ever seen titans moving at night in all their expeditions so far, and Eld sensed the three of them relax a little with that knowledge.

"I have a question." Petra began, the fire sparking in her eyes and a slightly impish expression on her face.

"Shoot." Eld replied.

"Ugliest titan?" She said inquisitively.

Eld laughed, "What?!"

Oruo rapidly sat down right next to her, a look of sheer puzzlement etched into the lines of his face.

Petra smiled broadly, "What's the ugliest titan you've ever seen?"

"Seen or…killed?" Oruo prodded, somehow confused by the concept of what was being asked.

"Trust you to focus on that." She replied, "Either, doesn't matter. Everyone has one right?"

Eld stroked his beard, "That's a very good question, I'm surprised I haven't thought about it before."

"Well?" She pushed and Eld laughed again;

"Gimme a minute, I gotta answer this right."

Out of the corner of his eye, from further into the campsite, he saw a short figure approaching.

"I once killed one that looked like Ex-Commander Shadis." Oruo mumbled.

Petra's mouth fell open, "No way!"

"Are you saying that Shadis is ugly?" Eld ribbed.

Petra giggled, "I think a titan version of anyone is probably pretty ugly." She scrutinised him, "Even Harriet."

Eld nearly spat out his coffee, "I thought we were friends. Why would you put that image in my head?"

Oruo raised his eyebrows, "Oh I see. Wouldn't marry her if she looked like a titan? Some people are only interested looks. I happen to think it's what's on the inside that counts."

Eld scowled.

"Go on then - tell us about this Shadis-titan."

Oruo puffed up, evidently thrilled to be telling a story (in which he was undoubtedly the hero). He cleared his throat, "Right - well - I'd just taken out a smaller three metre - saving Gunther in the process I might add - when a titan rose up from behind a building, bald as the day is long with big dark circles under its eyes - Captain?!"

The man'd stopped still, up-lit by the flickering fire, and the top half of his face shadowed. Then he did something that none of them expected - he sat down.

They took it in for a second, as he looked up at the night sky sitting with one knee up and his arm resting across it.

Oruo scratched his neck, and scanned each of their faces, before giving up completely on telling his story.

Over the course of the past month, the Captain'd been spending more time with them, joining them nearly every morning for coffee and on the occasional free evening for dinner…but still none of them were quite sure how to react to his sporadic appearances; mainly because it was never clear whether or not he liked being with them. One had to assume that he was getting something out of it, or he unquestionably wouldn't be there at all. Until a month ago they'd almost never seen him around the quarters, and certainly not for any kind of socialising.

The new development wasn't always the easiest thing to navigate, but the squad's collective respect for the man meant that for them at least, him joining them was always a positive, if slightly awkward experience.

The hush of the hilltop was all encompassing, and there was a pleasing balance to the blend of blue-black from the night sky, and red from the crackling fire. It seemed every one of them was taking a quiet moment to appreciate it. Eld was amazed how comfortable it was; the four of them in a line staring up at the stars.

Eventually he filled the silence, "Is the Commander happy with the progress so far sir?"

"Mm." The Captain kept his eyes skywards, "It'd be strange if he wasn't."

"Yeah, I guess so."

—

Petra pulled her knees into her chest.

"Captain?" She asked suddenly, and he looked across at her. She smiled a little, "Do you have an ugliest titan sir? Seen or killed."

He blinked a couple of times.

She could feel Oruo's trepidation and Eld gave her a look which said "are you mad?"

But Petra knew. He could have easily gone into a tent to be alone, but he hadn't. If she were to indulge her idealistic tendencies; she felt like she was beginning to understand him. He wasn't the type to initiate unnecessary conversation, but that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy it from time to time…she'd learned as much when they'd sat up all night in the common room. Sometimes mindless chatter could be therapeutic, and besides, if he wasn't in the mood he would make it clear very quickly.

"I'm yet to see a pretty one." He uttered, returning his gaze to the sky and she allowed his gorgeous profile to enchant her a while, her eyes studying the bump of his Adam's apple.

Eld smirked, "There's a first time for everything sir."

"You're starting to sound like Pixis." The Captain replied.

"Rats. That's not good." Eld shuffled, turning towards her, "So Petra, seeing as you asked the question, I'm assuming you have an answer to it?"

Alight in flaming oranges from the fire she was more ginger than ever,

"Of course." She smiled; "It was my third time out, we were riding next to a forest when suddenly this titan ran out towards us - we were completely blind-sided. Anyway, I remember thinking as we took it down; 'wow this guy is butt-ugly' - like - more so than your average hideous titan. It had the longest rattiest black hair that trailed along the ground, and its teeth were completely yellow and chipped." She shuddered.

"I take it you only assisted in taking it down." Oruo sneered.

She gave him a look, "Well, like I said, it was only my third time out - I was actually pretty proud of myself for taking it's arm off." She paused, then added, "Especially when what I really wanted to do was give it a haircut."

Eld chuckled, "Thinking of opening a titan grooming boutique are we?"

Petra gave a wry smile, "Maybe I would if you guys didn't keep killing off all my customers."

She glanced over to the Captain again. He remained in his position, staring up, but he seemed completely untroubled. A familiar warmth and tingling spread through her; to think she might have helped bring him a moment of peace.

"I got it." Eld said instantaneously, "It was our first time out as the Special Operations Squad…"

—

As Levi took in the vastness of the black, star studded sky above them, Erwin's words came into his head:

"Our ancestors built fires not just to stay warm, but to tell their stories around them."

Huh.

Here he was, sat around the fire with his squad, listening to their stories and gazing at the stars; not a shred of worry afflicting any of them, though they were far beyond wall Rose.

Perhaps this was what the Commander had meant. It was beginning to make more sense to him; there was necessity, then there were the reasons to stay alive, to keep fighting.

"…then the Captain swooped in and tore out it's nape." Eld stated, "Do you remember sir?"

Levi glanced at the man again, having just about picked up on what he was blathering about. That particular titan was tall, a ten metre class, with bulbous, bulging blue eyes.

"Mm. Ugly piece of shit." He responded, and let the soothing balm of Petra's laugh ease him.

—

The fire was beginning to die down, and Eld knew that soon he and Petra would be relieved of their watch duty. He fetched a log from the pile and stuck it on the ebbing flames. It would be remiss to leave Gunther and Oruo with a dead fire for their turn on watch.

Oruo had finally given in and gone into the tent to sleep, realising that he'd be up all night if he didn't. The Captain had sat with Eld and Petra a while longer, before eventually excusing himself as well, perhaps to sleep, or maybe he'd just worn out his ability to be social.

Petra uncapped her canteen and added some water to the just boiled pot of coffee.

"What's that for?" Eld asked, yawning.

"A bit of cold water helps the grounds sink to the bottom, so it's not quite so gritty." She replied.

"Ah. You know, we've not got long out here - you drink much more you won't get any sleep."

She tapped a spoon on the edge of the pot, smiling, "It's for Oruo and Gunther."

Petra was so thoughtful and kind. Funny, those didn't seem like qualities you'd need to be a good soldier, but time and time again this past month she'd proven to him just how beneficial they were, and he dreaded to think where they'd all be right now without her. He smiled to himself. If she wasn't so sweet he might've be jealous of her ability to bring them all together, something he'd never managed to do on his own; as it stood though, he was simply indebted, grateful and…curious.

He cleared his throat, "So…what's it like crushing on another member of your squad?"

She was instantly alert and pale.

"W- what?" She stammered, pushing her lips together, her large honey eyes trained on him.

"Is it something you've dealt with before or…? I gotta hand it to you both, you've been nothing but professional in drills - but all that slipping off together in secret hasn't gone unnoticed." He tapped his nose.

She sank into herself, frowning, her sudden energy had diminished.

"…I don't think I know what you mean."

"Come on small fry - you and Gunther are always disappearing off in the evenings - I can hear you coming back in to the quarters."

She looked more confused than ever as he continued;

"It's pretty clear to me that you like each other and somebody oughta make the first move." He itched his beard, "The only thing I haven't sussed is whether or not he's the one sending you those letters. When he came in with that first one and the violets it was so obvious that it was him - and that him 'discovering' them was some dumb ploy - but then with yesterday's letter I wasn't so sure…"

Petra blinked emphatically a few times and then, to Eld's shock, burst out laughing, her hands covering her face.

Well, he hadn't been expecting that reaction. She fell backwards onto the grass, body shaking with giggles.

Eld raised his eyebrows, "Was it something I said?"

"It was," She said, struggling to talk through her laughter, "It was everything you said." She started to cough, and sat up to take a swig from her canteen.

"Damn - alright." Eld scratched the back of his head, "What's so funny?"

"Um…where to start…" She replaced the cap on her canteen, smile still plastered across her face, "Gunther is…well." She stopped, considering, "He's already got somebody special - and believe me it's not me."

Eld blinked in disbelief. Wha-

"I helped set them up actually." She tucked her hair behind her ear, "They're really happy together, it's very sweet."

"Oh…right." Eld was frowning deeply, hand on his chin.

How had he got that so wrong?

"I've spent quite a bit of time with the pair of them." Petra continued, "So I guess I can see why you might think that…but, really…we're just friends. And I don't think he's the person sending me those letters."

"So then…you don't have a thing for him."

She shook her head.

"He's lovely, but…I don't, no."

"Ah." He gave her a bewildered smile, "Then I guess…I'm sorry I said anything."

They stared into the fire for a few quiet minutes.

Petra glanced back to him with raised brows, "Er…out of interest…how long have you thought that?"

"Pretty much since you first trialled with us." He said, a little embarrassed, "He's been different ever since you joined our squad. I guess now I know why."

She smiled widely, "Oh Eld, you can be such a doofus sometimes."

Week Five - Thursday

The Squad's first Expedition: 'Titan Trap Experiment'

Irritatingly, the titan traps could only really be properly tested on open ground. It was too difficult to see their function from all angles otherwise.

They were designed to work like giant bear traps; snapping shut around the leg as a titan ran through and tightening as it struggled, bolting it into the ground. If successful, it would mean placing them around supply points, so that fewer scouts would need to be on watch and on the front lines when re-stocking, and when the time came to dispatch it, the titan's restricted movement should make the task easier.

If the traps worked in this first, basic way, the next stage was to try creating a version that could be deployed at speed from the carts to aid in escape while travelling.

Eventually Hange's idea was to use these traps to bring a titan back behind the wall for research and testing; something that hadn't been achieved in years.

Ten prototype traps were going to be set up in a semi circle shape in the field on the outskirts of the town. In an ideal situation, only a couple of the traps would be tested out, the rest were mainly set up as a precaution in case a trap failed, but, if functional, served the secondary purpose of extra defence.

Commander Erwin, his officers and Hange were stationed on the buildings on the town's edge along with spotters: a good vantage point to watch the experiment unfold, and warn of danger.

Squad Levi were one of two veteran squads posted on the perimeter of the traps in the field, ready to dive in when things inevitably went wrong. Everything hung in the balance.

Levi was on edge. There was barely a single tree around to use the ODM gear which made taking the filthy creatures down particularly difficult, and it was the reason only elite squads were stationed to defend the traps.

It was midday and the wagons carrying the traps were being rolled out into the grassy open space. Team members from squad's Hange and Klaus began wheeling the large metal parts into position to start assembly. Loud clangs echoed through the crisp air as they hammered together the various jagged metal edges, and knocked the chains into the cold earth.

From the horizon, Levi saw Petra and Oruo approaching, having drawn a three metre class away from the area while set-up was taking place.

"Lose it?" He asked when they came into earshot.

"Yeah. That ugly son-of a bitch won't be bothering us for a while." Oruo said loftily as they brought their horses alongside his.

"Good. You remember where you led it? You might have to lure it back here if no others show up."

Petra nodded, "Yes Captain. It's loafing around a small hamlet a short ride away."

"Fine. Resume your positions."

They did as he asked, returning to their spots on the perimeter.

A short while passed, the defence squads on standby, milling about on their horses and trying not to be distracted by the assembly squads until, out of the blue, a shot fired through the air. Levi turned his head to the spotters on the roofs, red mist fading up towards the clouds.

"TITANS SPOTTED!" One of them yelled, and in quick succession four more red flares burst into the air along with more shouts.

What the…how many of the bastards were there?

He drove his horse back around and momentarily froze.

"THEY'RE BEARING DOWN FROM ALL SIDES!"

From the previously empty skyline, three titans were suddenly stumbling directly towards him, at full pelt. A backwards glance confirmed that indeed, there were more racing towards every side of the semi circle. Well. That was plan A: 'calmly test out one or two traps' out the window. He exhaled. He didn't know why he was surprised.

Damn it.

Barely even one of them until this point, and now all of a sudden they were inundated. Just their luck.

He yelled over his shoulder, "Oruo, Petra - get the one on the left - I'll take these two."

There had barely been time to give the order before they were all forced into combat. The massive sons of bitches were faster than they looked.

Levi stood on the back of his galloping horse, firing a hook straight into one of the titan's protruding bellies and blasting himself towards it, then retracting the hook instantly when its giant flabby arm swung at him. He sliced through its hand and raced along the arm, redeploying his hooks into its neck and slashing through the nape, grunting.

He stood on the upper back of the graceless corpse as it began to drop grimly forwards to the ground, and clocked his second target. It had staggered past his horse and was stood over a steel trap, but, rather than stepping into the serrated jaws, it stopped and bent down.

Not good. He could only think of one reason why it would bend down like that.

His blood ran cold as he fired a hook from mid-air and landed on its back, thrusting his blades into its pale, mottled flesh.

—

Petra rode around their allotted target, yelling and drawing its attention while Oruo got in position behind it.

"Come and get me you bloated jackass!"

Boy it was fast. But it wasn't as fast as her. Her heart hammered as she weaved back and forth, and she could see Oruo was struggling to get a clean shot to hook into its back. She took a deep breath and stopped her horse, catching vast bloodshot brown eyes and a sinister smile as it leant down and extended its hands out for her. She just had to wait until it was close enough…

Now. Like a speeding comet she rocketed between the grasping fingertips towards the cheerful face of malice. This titan was a real idiot leaning down like that. She stood and propelled herself off of her horse, legs pedalling through the air before she thrust both blades into those enormous brown eyes, instantly blinding it, just like her Captain had taught her.

The titan shrieked.

"Oruo, now!" She screamed.

—

On feeling Levi puncture its back the titan stood rapidly, jolting him. He held fast and clenched his jaw, sneering as its grinning face appeared over its shoulder and ogled him with eyes that were too shiny and teeth that were too yellow;

"Don't you creepy shitbags ever brush your teeth?"

It began reaching a stumpy hand back towards him, and he glowered at the filthy split fingernails.

—

"You can chalk that one up as an assist." Oruo blustered, breathless. Titan blood was evaporating from his shirt and he looked a bit of a mess.

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes, "A 'thank you for the help' would be nice once in a while."

Where was he? Was he ok? Her eyes searched.

There. She turned and watched in awe as the Captain ran up the back and struck the nape of his second and final target, blood spraying through the air.

It was then that she noticed them: tiny flailing arms and legs were buffeting the titans fisted right hand, to no avail. Her heart stopped and she raced forwards, horror stricken. In her gut she already knew there was nothing she could do as the now dead giant's hand relaxed, dropping the wriggling scout, who plummeted six flat metres to the ground and landed in a mangled heap under their cloak.

Oh - oh fuck!

The titan's carcass thudded to earth alongside the scout seconds after and she vaulted from her horse, sprinting around it and through the blood spattered grass, her heart pounding. Never had such a short distance seemed so far.

She thought she vaguely heard the Captain's voice, but couldn't make out his words and kept running, pelting to the cloak covered mound on the ground, panting as she came to a stop.

She knelt down, pulling the cloak back and her breathing quickened.

"J-James?" She stuttered, her mouth dry.

He groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

"Don't try to move." She said immediately, "Can you talk?"

He grimaced, "…y…yeah…"

He was alive at least. She'd keep him that way.

"Alright. Which areas are hurting the most? Is there anything particular that you-"

"M…my…legs…"

"Legs?" She said, turning white as she assessed his position. His legs were bent back in the most unnatural of positions, and she had to repress the urge to retch.

"N-no…" He mumbled, his voice scratchy and weak, "I can't…feel them…it…"

She watched, terrified, as his blue eyes fluttered shut, instantly grabbing his wrist to feel for a pulse. Her heart rate slowed as she found it, and caught the slight rise and fall of his chest. Ok. He'd passed out in pain, but he was still alive.

She swallowed, beating her emotions back as she gazed on his limp body, and caught sight of the Captain, who had knelt across from her.

"Is he alright?" He asked, something like gentleness once again in his light eyes.

"Yes. Well…no. But he's alive." She frowned, passing a glance over James's limp body once more, "He's passed out. We need to get him to the medical cart." She sniffled, fighting back tears, "I just…don't understand why he was here…"

"He was finishing setting up this trap." His voice was low and warm.

She glanced over to the not quite completed set of steel jaws.

"Oh." She exhaled quietly. Invisible weight was pressing on her chest.

They worked moving James's passed-out body into a more regular position, as a medical team made their way over to carry him to a cart.

Petra shakily stood, watching the small team carry him away. She noted, morbidly, that his was not the only body being carried away from the scene.

Then she glimpsed the rising steam, the plethora of humongous skeletal remains littering the field.

He came to stand by her side.

"Wow." She breathed in horror.

He remained silent.

"Did the traps…did they work?" Her voice quivered and she already knew the answer.

"No." He said softly, "The force of the steel jaws was too strong. Rather than stopping them in their tracks, the bastard's feet were chopped clean off. Then they started crawling, dragging their fat asses towards the back-up squads."

Oh hell. Her stomach was twisting in knots, and she started to feel sick.

"But…" He continued, "Now we know. Those who were injured and lost furthered humanity's cause. Now we can move forward with what we've learned."

She sniffed. Something wet dripped onto her lip. Of course. Before she even had a chance to move, the Captain had held out his handkerchief.

She looked across at him, caught off guard to find him looking back, his eyes shining with something like sorrowful tenderness. Her knees went a little weak. She could see how profoundly he cared for those lost, and if it were possible, felt herself fall for him all over again.

She timidly took the handkerchief from him and blotted her bleeding nose.

Petra sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was alone in the dark Special Op's tent. She'd been lying there deep in thought for a while, trying not to dwell on thoughts of James. Stabbing pains were shooting across her chest, and the front of her cloak was wet with tears.

The difference in this evening's atmosphere to the one proceeding it was immense. She didn't have to go on watch duty this evening, but a part of her wished she did, or at least had some extra tasks to do like the rest of the squad had, anything to take her mind off of the day's failings.

She needed to stay awake anyway, she was waiting.

Agonising wails from the medical tents punctuated the night and reverberated around her ribcage. She shivered.

Her breath froze in her lungs as she heard footsteps approach the tent. She knew exactly what to expect.

The tent entrance flap was quickly pulled open, and Gunther stood silhouetted in blue and orange, the light of the stars and the campsite framing him in a darkly beautiful way.

"…R…Re.."

He started, but she'd already sprung up from where she was sat and wrapped her arms around him.

She squeezed him so so tightly, and then found she was using all of her strength to remain upright as he collapsed onto her, shaking with heaving sobs.

Week Five - Friday

The Squad's first Expedition

Eld regarded the grey-white sky as they rode out on the return towards the wall.

No-one had said a word at all today. A passing glance over each face of his team found them drained, and despondent. Oruo had aged another ninety years by the looks of things too. Only the Captain looked fairly normal, but then, pasty and drained was his signature look.

"Snow." Eld said suddenly, gazing up as cold white flakes began floating slowly past their faces.

Petra looked across at him, her nose a little red and gave a weak smile.

Chapter 22: Blue and Orange

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The streets were lined and oh how she wished they weren't.

The sad, heckle-filled plod through Trost went on ceaselessly, and Petra considered that it would have hurt less if the public had just approached each soldier and actually rubbed salt into their wounds.

At least, at least, her squad was returning unscathed. Physically anyway. She wasn't sure what the coming weeks held for Gunther.

James obviously had to be discharged, and it didn't look like he would ever walk again. She reflected grimly that there was a silver-lining in that now Gunther would know he was safe behind the wall for future expeditions. After a while of her hugging and talking to him in the tent that night he'd mumbled something about potentially getting James a job in the office, that it would be easy, because everyone who worked in the office at present was a moron, and James was bright.

She was welling up remembering it, and felt suddenly glad that she was riding in front of Gunther.

Her thoughts travelled to Hannah, Jules, Peter…even Clara. She hadn't seen any of them yet since the gate had lowered behind them, but she was hopeful - none of them were in the medical tent when she visited the previous day, and they were positioned much further back in the formation, so it made sense that she hadn't run into them so far.

The snow was still gently falling as they approached the stables. Everything looked eerily beautiful and pristine in the late afternoon light and she momentarily wondered if the Captain was fond of snow because of how clean it made everything look. She jumped from her horse and looked into her large, shining black eyes.

"Thank you." She said quietly, and threw her arms around the grey mare's neck in an embrace, then led her into the stable.

After their return to base, the squad had lethargically gone their separate ways assisting with unloading wagons, transporting the sick to the medical wing and the dead to the mortuary; every duty done with a ritual sombreness. Those with severe injuries were taken into the larger hospital in town, but Petra was stationed at the wing on the grounds treating soldiers with minor afflictions. She spent most of the remaining afternoon into the evening there, tending to the cuts and scrapes and sewing up lesions of hurt scouts. One of her patients was none other than Stefan from Squad Clara, who to her relief informed her that every member of their group had returned safely, only a couple of them with minor abrasions and Gerd had a twisted ankle.

Thank the walls. All her worrying, everything Clara had said, came to nothing. If she wasn't so drained and down following the expedition, she might have been mad about it again.

The line of injured slowly diminished and she wiped her brow, exhausted, and made her way back to the barracks through the evening gloom, looking forward to falling straight into bed and sleeping for hours.

But…something didn't seem quite right as she stood outside the front door to their quarters. There was a stillness in the air. An eerie quiet descended as she entered the corridor, but she noticed with wonder the light under the common room door.

Had the squad forgotten to put out the wall torches before bed? That was unusual, not like them at all - the squad was diligent about even the smallest of things; it was necessary when working under Captain Levi.

As she approached the door she could've heard a pin drop.

She raised her hand and pushed through, stopping dead in her tracks-

"SURPRISE!"

She blinked probably a hundred times before she could even begin to take in the room.

There, standing in front of the roaring fire-place were Hannah and Jules, beside them Eld wearing a jaunty pink party hat. Lina was stood leaning into Oruo's side in the kitchenette, a large bunch of winter amaryllis adorned the table and the smell of oranges and cinnamon floated through the air. The entire scene was completely and utterly overwhelming, and Petra was floored.

"Happy birthday baby girl." Hannah said, walking to greet her, "Sorry it isn't much."

Her heart was in her mouth.

"Isn't much?" She bleated, tears rolling down her cheeks in large beads, "It- it's perfect."

Jules gave her a hug, "We didn't have long this evening to get it all together. Eld here didn't even know it was your birthday until we barged in."

Petra beamed and caught Eld's shrug,

"I can't believe you didn't say anything." He said with raised brows, "I only had about five minutes to make this hat."

Petra giggled, sniffing and wiping away her tears, "Well I think you've done a great job."

"Ahem." Oruo tapped her on the shoulder and stood with his chin up in an uppity way.

"Hello Oruo." She said, raising an eyebrow.

He held a mug out towards her.

"Is that mulled wine?" She asked gleefully, accepting the mug.

"Yeah," Lina grinned, "he spent the last half an hour mulling it for you, he said he had to 'get the infusion just right.'"

Oruo's face drained of colour, "I did no such thing - mulled wine is actually exceedingly easy to- arrgghh."

He winced as blood from his freshly bitten tongue spurted through the air and Petra laughed, patting him on the arm,

"Thank you." She said genuinely, then, bringing the mug to her lips, stopped in her tracks and sniffed, "Wait…this doesn't have any of your 'special family liqueur' in, does it?"

Lina explained that she'd managed to stop him from adding it. It seemed that she too had had a somewhat less than thrilling gut-based experience trying one of Oruo's family recipes and jumped in to save the wine at the last moment. Petra couldn't express enough gratitude.

It was unbelievable that they'd all gone to such lengths for her, and directly after being beyond the walls no less.

After hearing the dates of the expedition, she'd quietly written her birthday off, thinking that she might just celebrate with her family over the winter break. She didn't often celebrate her birthday in a big way anyway, and besides, she wasn't going to wallow in self-pity about something so trivial when many of her comrades lives were on the line.

But she'd never expected all this.

At length they sat at the table and played Eld's various board games, sipping on the delicious hot wine. For a beautiful moment it seemed that the awful tragedies of the expedition were forgotten; the joyful company and warm room lifted the collective spirit no end. Hannah accepted her long awaited dare…which ended up to be doing an interpretive dance 'showing the fraught relationship between Oruo and his tongue', because Petra apparently couldn't think of anything else on the spot.

It was after losing yet another hand to Eld that she became aware of the figure stood in the doorway, and walked gingerly towards Gunther, while the rabble of the game continued noisily behind her.

He looked even more exhausted than when they'd just returned to the stables, his eyes were puffy and red, and his expression held a dark weight.

"Happy birthday Red." He mumbled and gave a weak smile.

She smiled back, and gave his arm a pat, thankful that he'd graced them with his presence at all this evening,

"Mulled wine?" She gently offered and he nodded, eventually joining the party at the table, and though he continued to sit in near silence, some of the heaviness of his expression eased as the night drew on.

"So - uh - Oruo?" Petra asked following a round of Hungry Hungry Titans, a small smile pulling at her lips, "Would you say my induction into Squad Levi is complete?"

Everyone turned to look at him expectantly.

He sighed gruffly, "I suppose…" he stopped, frowning and swilling his wine around in its mug.

The room waited with bated breath and then;

"I suppose so." He uttered with some reluctance.

The table cheered, raising their mugs, and Eld high-fived her.

The night was drawing on, soon it would be dawn and Levi was still writing. It was his practice to document the events of an expedition immediately following it, so that he didn't forget any important detail, and he often pulled all nighters writing up such reports. He owed the fallen that much.

There was however one difference to his routine, which was that whenever he'd had to write about some gruesome, flinch-worthy detail, he stopped; and his mind instead became preoccupied with images of a certain petite redhead scout. It was like she were there, assisting him, supporting him through his task in its most emotional moments.

He sighed, "I don't know why you're here, but you should get some rest."

Still the images persisted, but suddenly she was in the room, sat in her usual chair across from him, and she was frowning at him disapprovingly. Her expression seemed to say, "sir, you should get some rest." He stared back at her for a moment, matching her frown, then slowly returned to his writing.

"Go to bed Pet."

His eyes widened a touch.

Pet?

Where the hell did that come from?

He looked back up to the chair but the apparition was gone. Taking in a deep breath he rubbed his temples.

He was exhausted. That was…

Maybe his 'sickness' was spreading and causing him to hallucinate…

He felt his heart rate increase again, and his throat went dry.

Week Five - Saturday

The day after the return from expedition was known colloquially as wind-down day, but Petra wasn't really sure why because it was often one of the busiest days of work; the scouts scrambled to take inventory, fix broken gear, organise horses and generally recalibrate themselves, a kind of collective 're-set' before the return to drills on Monday.

"Gunther?" Eld asked,

Petra shook her head, "I think he's already gone back to the barracks."

The squad had been split up for what was a very very long day of mainly working on equipment maintenance, restoring broken and bent gear. It was already almost night, but Eld had convinced an exhausted Petra and Oruo to join him at the tavern and toast the fallen, saying that it was a tradition of his, and it would be nice to have company for it for the first time.

Petra thought it was a sweet practice, one she felt she too should make a habit of.

The tavern had a strange energy, the soldiers present were trying to keep spirits up, but there was still an underlying blues, and notably fewer of them there than usual for a Saturday night. Not everyone dealt with loss and misery by drinking with friends.

They clinked their tankards together and sat back in their seats, watching as the snow continued to drift lazily past the steamed up window.

"Did either of you see the Captain at all today?" Petra asked.

"Yeah I saw him at lunch." Oruo muttered.

"I saw him early this morning," Eld said, "He told me he was heading out, then he said he had some meeting tonight with Erwin about the Trost winter parade."

Oh…so it was just her who hadn't.

She sighed. It wasn't that uncommon for him to be off and about on Saturdays, he wasn't usually stationed with the squad, but again Petra found that she was worrying about him. She hadn't seen him at all since their return from the expedition. She knew he didn't eat a whole lot, but when he hadn't even walked past the door at dinner time she found herself wondering if she should try taking a bowl of rice to his office. He worked so hard all the time, maybe he'd just forgotten.

Ultimately she'd stopped herself, feeling like encroaching on his space might be overstepping the mark; perhaps this was just his way of dealing with the aftermath of an expedition. He often preferred to be alone at the best of times.

"…did he say if he'd be back later tonight?" She queried.

"No. Though I'd imagine he will be after that meeting." Eld replied, then took a swig of his beer.

"Why are you so interested in his whereabouts?" Oruo drawled, swirling his ale with a finger.

Petra rolled her eyes.

"I'm. I'm going to see if they do snacks." She mumbled and stood from her seat, making her way to the bar.

Just before she reached it however, she was stayed by someone calling her name;

"Oh Petra!"

She blinked repeatedly in awe as Hange raced towards her, threw a hand around her waist and dipped her low. Large amber eyes met gleeful walnut ones as Petra was tipped off balance and before she could even think about what was occurring, felt Hange's soft lips against hers in a deep kiss that had a surprising amount of passion in it. Her eyes remained starkly open in shock as Hange pulled away, bringing their lips to her ear;

"Did you get my letters?"

!

…What?!

Her face was locked in a startled, wide-eyed stare and she was utterly tongue-tied as Hange moved back slightly and eyed her in her position leant back in their arm.

"I can see you're a little tongue-tied." They said with a studious expression.

They squinted into her wide, flummoxed eyes. Two pairs of eyes blinked at one another.

"Hmmm…as I thought…" They muttered.

After a hesitant second they grabbed Petra's wrist and felt her pulse, frowning.

Petra opened her mouth-

"No - you don't need say anything." They sighed, their expression dropping into dejection, "It's just as I suspected…your heart belongs to another."

Hange stood her up straight again and stared right at her, they smiled, but in their eyes there was a sadness.

"M-my heart?" She stammered.

"That's right. Science doesn't lie you know."

"Bu- what do you mean? You sent me those letters?"

Hange looked at their feet, the remnants of the sad smile remained.

"It wasn't long after I first saw you in the officer's common room that I realised I kept thinking about you. There isn't much in this world that will drag me away from my work you see." A slight blush crept over their cheeks, "When I ran into you in the bathhouse that first time it only intensified those thoughts." They caught her eye again, "You have a gentle heart and an open mind. During our conversations you were patient with me, you tried to understand and not once were you dismissive of my ideas…you are uncommonly compassionate and thoughtful, and I felt a compulsion to let you know." They twiddled their thumbs.

Petra's breath stuttered. What could she say to that? There was no possible way to respond to such a declaration that could do it any justice.

She bit her lip, "Hange I…" confounding feelings were whirling around, "I think that might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

They grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

Petra looked a little forlorn, "But if you sent me the letters…then the night of the race…"

"Ah…yes…well that I didn't plan - simple fortunate happenstance that I ran into you, but it did give me the opportunity to see how you were responding to my notes."

Petra stared at them, astonished.

"That night is when I began to suspect that someone else had already charmed you - that I was too late. It seemed that no amount of mystery or intrigue could stir you to excitement…hence my final letter."

Petra was floored and guilt was pouring into her.

"Hange…" She began, "I'm sorry I don't know what to say." Her eyebrows twitched, and she was finding it hard to look at them.

After a moment, she squeezed their hand back;

"…there is someone that…but then you seem to already…thank you…" She tailed off, the cocktail of overwhelming feelings was making stringing even a single sentence together rather difficult.

They caught eyes and she continued;

"I really enjoy your company and our bath chats, and I'm unbelievably flattered that…I hope you know that. But…you're right…my 'heart' is uh…"

The smile returned to their face and they placed a sincere hand on her shoulder, "Well, if you don't try, then you'll never know…what kind of scout would I be if I didn't put myself out there?" They gave an accepting nod, "Thank you. You are a true ray of sunshine my dear."

Petra smiled back, then Hange took a deep breath, and after a final squeeze of her hand, began to walk away, calling back;

"Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to about anything at all, you know where to find me." They winked.

"Wait-" Petra called out, "What did you mean in your last letter? Suspicion? Competition?"

They gave a cackle, exclaiming, "If you don't know that, then I really can't help you!"

In an instant they were gone, blasting out the tavern door in a flurry of snow.

Petra stood for a moment in awe, open-mouthed.

Of course…the lab…the poster of pond life…how could she have forgotten? It completely slipped her mind. She cast her thoughts back, a damselfly and a dragonfly, intricately drawn, dancing together above the pond. She'd noticed it at the time before tidying the lab with Nifa and Moblit.

Now she thought about it, there had been moments together in the bathhouse when she thought that Hange might have been interested in a little more than her opinion on various scout protocol, or the outcomes of their experiments. They'd stared at her for a bit longer than was usual, and spent a great deal of time touching her arm or squeezing her shoulders…but she'd always just assumed that she was flattering herself…after all the Section Commander was notorious for their plethora of interests and blatant disregard for personal space.

A slap on the back from Eld brought her back to earth.

"Wow. That was - that was something else small-fry."

He was shaking his head in disbelief.

A small smile formed on her lips, "I thought it was romantic."

She jolted when Oruo spoke, not realising he'd also appeared behind them, and the three of them stood staring in amazement at the tavern door;

"I'll bet there's someone in a white coat with a big net looking for that one."

"There is." Eld mused, "He's called Moblit."

"Orange?"

Mike didn't sound convinced, which was good because Levi wasn't sure about it either.

"Noted." Erwin uttered, then actually wrote down the sentence 'Mike not convinced by orange'.

Levi wondered if Erwin'd been drinking on the job.

"What about you Levi? What do think? Powder Blue or Rust Orange?"

"Erwin just pick a damn colour it's not rocket science."

"So no preference at all then?"

Levi glared at him and Hange smirked from where they were leaning, arms crossed against the desk.

"Strange," Erwin reflected, "I always had you down as an orange kind of person."

"Tch. Blue then if it will shut you up."

"Good. Thank you. So that's two votes orange and two votes blue." Erwin tapped his finger on his chin, "Hmmmm."

They silently stood around the Commander's office while he hummed and scrutinised the simple tally he'd drawn, as if somehow one of the two lines under one of the colours would magically move to the other to give it a majority.

Levi scowled as another whole minute passed of this ridiculous spectacle before anyone said anything.

"…perhaps we should get Nanaba in to be the deciding vote." Erwin suggested.

Levi slapped his hand to his forehead, "Well shit. Orange then. This is a waste of time."

Erwin's eyes lit up, scribbling out Levi's tally point under blue and moving it to the orange column to put it in the lead.

"Are we done here?" Levi asked irritably.

Erwin smiled, "Yes. Though please remind your squad of their fitting next week, or all of this deciding the colour will have gone to waste."

Levi snorted and tore out of the room, swiftly followed by Hange.

—

A shadow remained, and Erwin noticed that Mike had closed the door and was turned back to face him.

"Everything alright Mike?"

Mike sniffed and crossed his arms, "Orange isn't a real option is it?"

Erwin looked up, a twinkle in his eye, "Your nose is a sharp as ever huh."

"Hm."

"Orange is not a real option, no." Erwin put his pen down, "The uniforms will be blue."

Mike nodded curtly and pulled the door closed as he left.

Erwin smiled to himself. He'd had to admit he was pleasantly surprised when it came to Levi's handling of his new, enhanced squad during the expedition. The man hadn't hesitated for even a second when it came to sending Petra to the front lines, a good sign.

Perhaps it wouldn't be remiss to encourage those blossoming feelings…to gently nudge Levi towards some sunlight.

Week Five - Sunday

Sunday was their first proper day off since the expedition, but they still had two more weeks of drills until the winter/new year break where they could go home and see their families.

Eld was staring out of the common room window at the blizzard. The snowfall had only gotten heavier over the course of the weekend, and if it kept up he wouldn't be surprised if they were hemmed into the barracks.

In his idiocy he'd asked Petra if she knew where Gunther had been recently; beyond the hour or so that the guy'd sat silently at her party, Eld hadn't seen him around. He really wasn't expecting the response she gave.

"…so he's been trying to get to the hospital today, he couldn't make it before visiting hours were over yesterday, what with the working hours being so long for wind-down." She uttered sadly.

His heart was heavy and breaking. It wasn't fair. He hadn't even gotten to meet James properly, and he felt strangely guilty, like he should have known…like he should have gone and introduced himself on one of the couple of occasions he'd seen him sat by Gunther at the tavern.

He sniffed;

"Fuck."

The air was dry and cold.

"Yeah." She said.

She was whisking batter to make them pancakes - an attempt to lighten the melancholy that had fallen like a thick mist over the entire compound.

Eld's throat was tight. He couldn't believe his own shitting stupidity. He'd seen Gunther's changed behaviour, he'd even speculated that the guy was falling for someone. Why on earth hadn't he just asked him about it? It wasn't like there had been no opportunities to do that. His head hurt. The Captain was always telling them not to regret their choices, but in this moment he found it entirely impossible, and cursed his own damn short-sightedness.

He started on hearing a thwack.

Oruo had waltzed into the room and dumped a bulging bag on the floor which seemed to be spilling out with various items of clothing.

"You know, this isn't the laundry room." Eld said gruffly, crossing his arms.

Petra's eyebrows raised, "What is all that?"

Oruo ignored them both, instead striding past her into the kitchen and opening random cupboards while tutting.

"Where is it…" he grumbled quietly.

"Oruo!" Petra looked mad, and was stood in her little white bandana and apron, scowling with her hands on her hips.

He turned to her, nonchalant, "Have you seen my personal tin of tea leaves?"

"Have you tried the cupboard with all the tea in it?" Eld uttered wryly.

Oruo scowled and instantly turned to the upper cupboard and pulled out a small silver tin, "Aha."

Eld shook his head and mumbled under his breath, "Didn't even look…"

"What do you need it for?" Petra queried and slowly returned to her whisking.

"Ho ho ho," Oruo patted his chest with his free hand, "I'm heading home for the winter break."

Eld balked, "Already? You're two weeks early man."

Petra widened her eyes, "So - you asked the Captain?"

"The Captain was only too happy to oblige me after my top-notch performance these past few days. It's a shame you imbeciles won't have the pleasure of my company for the final two weeks of drills. I don't know how you'll be able to bear the loss."

He strutted past a baffled Petra and Eld, and threw the tin into the bag,

"Not to worry though, I'll be training with the Garrison regiment in my hometown. Don't expect to outclass me just because I'm not here."

Eld blinked; "Wait - why-"

"See you next year has-beens. I'll try and remember to send you a postcard."

With that he heaved up his large bag, and was gone.

"Don't forget your nit comb!" Eld yelled out the door.

Petra sighed and shook her head, "At least he won't be a pain in the ass at that Trost parade thing we're supposed to do. If I had to watch him strut around like a snooty peacock in a stupid outfit I think I might've had to quit the squad."

"You got a point there." Eld smiled, then scratched his chin, "Uh…so what's all this about him asking the Captain for leave?"

It had been a long, tiring and unpleasant day. Gunther'd been hoping to slip into his room unnoticed to sit quietly by himself after his return from the hospital, but sometimes even the best-laid plans went wrong.

"I - uh - got you a present." Eld started, holding out a newspaper wrapped rectangle to him, and he looked back gloomily from the corridor.

"I hope you like it." Eld continued, "Wasn't easy getting into town this afternoon with all that snow."

He approached Eld like a prey animal might approach a stranger offering it food. After a second he tentatively took the package and gazed down at it in a kind of forlorn wonder, then returned his eyes to Eld;

"This better not be one of your stupid pranks."

"It's not." Eld said sincerely, "Come have a beer."

He sat at the table, and took a long swig of the beer Eld handed to him before picking up the scrappily wrapped rectangle and analysing it from all angles.

"I think I know what this is." He said simply.

"Oh yeah?" Eld smirked.

"Yeah. A new bike."

Eld chuckled, "Way to ruin the surprise. I've been saving for months."

Gunther gave a small smile and unwrapped the gift. His smile widened as his eyes skimmed over the picture of an elf holding a skull, and the title which read: 'The Wandering Spirits of Grindlewrock Mountain'.

"I wrote a list of all the titles I found in your room, then I asked the shopkeeper for the one that was best reviewed that wasn't on the list…that's what he gave me."

"I've heard of it yeah." Gunther replied, not really sure how to respond to the kind gesture, "It's…meant to be really good. Thanks."

"No problem. And uh…sorry for going into your room."

Gunther shrugged weakly; "So…I hear I owe you some money from this 'love-letter' bet."

Eld shook his head, "Don't worry about it."

Gunther looked appreciative, "Hange eh? Who'd've guessed?"

"I know. For the longest time I actually thought it was you."

Gunther placed his bottle down, eyebrows raised, "Do I want to know why?"

"Nah. It's a…it was just me being an idiot."

The two men smiled slightly and cheersed their bottles.

Petra quickly towelled her hair before wrapping the towel around herself and opening the bathroom door with a click. Steam billowed behind her as it hit the freezing air and she stepped into the corridor with a bundle of her clothes in her arms, droplets of water freezing on her suddenly cold skin.

There he was, clearly just back from wherever he'd been today, stopped still in the corridor with his eyes on her. It was the first time she'd seen him since they'd returned from the expedition two days ago.

If she wasn't already flushed from the shower, she would have gone bright red.

"C-captain!" She stuttered a little, blinking several times and pulling her towel tighter around herself, bundling the clothes in such a way that she was sure they were covering as much exposed skin as possible.

He said nothing, and there wasn't even a flicker on his face that denoted any response to seeing her, he simply walked past her down the hall, and she heard the door shut to his room.

Her mouth dropped open and she stood, stunned in the corridor for a moment, unsure how to process it. Her skin started to get goosebumps from the icy air and she snapped out of her daze.

She quickly took herself to her room to get ready for bed.

Notes:

what's uppp!

firstly congrats if you guessed it! i'm a fan of the hange x petra ship so i felt like i wanted to give it a mini side story - i headcanon pan hange...

thanks again for reading, i'm truly grateful for all ur thoughts so far 3

Chapter 23: Showerhouse

Notes:

so this chapter goes a little *ahem* ...harder on the NSFW than before...u have been warned...

Chapter Text

Week Six - Monday

It was so early that it was still dark out and Levi grabbed a towel and clean uniform from his cupboard.

Another sleepless night. That was three in a row, bad even for him, and he felt particularly rough for it. Often he got a least one hour in.

He made his way down the corridor to the bathroom and placed the neatly folded pile of fabric on the small countertop next to the sink after giving it a quick wipe down.

Then he removed his uniform, folding each item with military efficiency as he went and placed the dirty clothes by the clean pile and turned on the shower tap with a heavy exhale.

Within moments steam had filled the room and he stepped into the shower, drenching himself. He briefly allowed himself to enjoy the hot water raining down on his skin before switching it off to lather himself in soap.

It was a strange habit from his past that he could never quite shake; growing up they'd had to conserve even cold water in order to clean themselves. He sometimes thought of the poor wretches that still lived down there, and how it was a luxury to have hot water at all. No matter how much of it he poured over himself, or how hard he scrubbed, he would never be able to wash away his roots.

He reached his hand out towards the tap, ready to switch it on and rinse off the soap, when he heard the bathroom door open.

What? Hadn't he locked the door?

He peered around the partition, the room was still thick with steam but he could just about make out a petite figure through it.

"C-captain!" Petra's startled voice reverberated around the room.

Petra?

"Get out."

Then there was silence. His breath caught in his throat and he was suddenly extremely aware of his soap covered nakedness, even though he was mostly hidden behind the shower partition. Drops of water from his wet hair rolled into his eyes and he scrunched them up, pressing his fingers to his eyelids and flicking the water away in frustration.

When he opened them again he noticed that the figure was still visible through the steam, then heard the unmistakeable click of the lock.

"Huh? Are you deaf? I said get out. What, are you some kind of idio-"

Through the swelling steam she stepped forward. Her eyes were orange saucers, her lips pink blossom and her hair was dripping wet, strands sticking to her neck and face. She was wrapped just in a small white towel, droplets of water shining like dewdrops on her pale skin, running down her arms. He made a small involuntary noise as he glimpsed the just visible dip between her breasts.

"If you didn't want company maybe next time consider locking the door, sir."

His mouth parted slightly. What the-

She giggled, "Space for another little one?"

She blushed a little as she stepped ever nearer to the shower, and began to loosen her grip on the towel.

His mouth was open, but no sounds came out as she took a final step forward, allowing the towel to slip easily from her hands and fall to the ground.

"I-" He choked, passing his eyes over the astonishing naked woman before him.

She laughed lightly, bringing a hand to her mouth as he studied her; her sculpted collarbones, pert little breasts, the delicate pink of her nipples, the gentle, pleasing curve of her waist down to her thighs and little ginger thatch of hair below. Strong, toned, yet soft…

Without a sane thought in his head, he reached out a hand to her-

Week Six - Monday

Levi bolted awake in the chair by his bedroom desk, dim morning light edging through the window.

Shit.

He raked his hand through his hair, his breath ragged. He was boiling hot and uncomfortably aroused. All at once it felt as though he were trapped in his own clothes, strangled by his cravat and the fire of his lower half unpleasantly pushing against his suddenly tight as hell trousers, blood pulsing through him.

Fuck.

Now what?

This was fucked up.

Was he supposed to relieve himself like some teenage brat?

He must have been delusional, still half-dreaming because that thought didn't sicken him in the way it always did. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so aroused…if he ever had.

He couldn't leave the room like this. Not even to get to the shower- that-

Fuck. Uh.

The hell was he doing. He was so damn hot he felt a little mad, like he wasn't entirely sure if he could remember his own name. His body was shifting of its own volition in the chair, trying to ease some of its discomfort. She was…

He grabbed at his collar and loosened it, pulling the cravat out and unbuttoning the front of his shirt. Cool air hit his skin. That was a little better, though he couldn't erase the naked image of her, which continued to play on a torturous loop in his mind.

His breath wavered as he fought to get in control of his thoughts.

That wasn't-

Hadn't ever seen-

But-

He swallowed. Fuck. What would her heavenly face look like as…

His breath caught. He wanted to make her come. He wanted to know what it would sound like…feel like…to make her blush and scream, and her soft hands and pleading eyes showing him how. He wanted to run his tongue…

He undid his trousers, taking some of the pressure off, though he was still so pent up that it was impossible to think straight. The tip of his cock was tingling unbearably, begging him to touch himself. What if he could please her? What if she touched him?

After a brief hesitant moment, he spat in his palm and released himself from his underwear, and with a slow exhale he began to stroke himself; and almost sighed at the immediacy of the relief.

She was so damn beautiful.

His eyes closed and he leant back into the chair, all the tension in his muscles melting away. He didn't just want this, right now, he needed it. He needed release. He needed to come for her, thinking of her. His breath sped up as he remembered the water droplets slowly rolling off every soft curve of her body, her perfect pert breasts, her lips, shining eyes and softly blushing cheeks.

Fuck.

He wanted to fuck her. So much.

There wasn't a single rational thought in his brain and he was a wild animal.

A low moan escaped him as he thought of the way her wet hair clung to her, as he imagined the teasing look in her gorgeous eyes as he reached out to touch her. She was his. He'd pull her against him with force and they'd play and touch and kiss, equals in force and passion. Euphoric tingles were spreading through him as he chased the feeling, but it wasn't enough, it felt like it would never be enough.

He struggled to contain another moan, picturing running his fingers through the ginger wool of hair between her legs. She was biting her lip and her eyes fluttered shut in pleasure as she let him explore her, teasing her, licking and nipping at her skin, her nipples hardening in his hands.

"P-Pet-uh…" He gasped as he came, panting, his heart hammering.

Fuck.

Shit.

Now he was a fucking disgusting mess. A mess, and a fucking pervert. Filthy, horny underground scum.

He was utterly undone. Shit. Shit.

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hand.

"Do you think he's coming?" Eld asked.

"Maybe he left already." Gunther suggested, as the three remaining members of the squad stood around the kitchen having finished their cups of coffee.

The room was still a little dim as the days got ever shorter, and it made getting up early for drills that much bleaker. Eld hated lighting torches in the morning, something about it was unnatural.

"Hm…maybe…" Petra didn't seem sure.

"Only thing is that it doesn't make sense to me that he'd not tell us where to go…surely there's too much snow to go to the circuit." Eld mused.

Gunther shrugged, "I wouldn't put it past him to make us do it anyway."

Eld raised his eyebrows, "In these boots?"

Petra's shoulders slumped, "God I hope not." She collected the mugs and began rinsing them in the sink.

"Alright." Eld said, resolved, "I'll knock on his door, if he doesn't answer, I guess we should just head to the track and meet him there."

"Good idea." Gunther uttered, "We shouldn't be late in any case."

Levi stopped dead, hearing a knock at the door.

He'd definitely locked this door hadn't he? He'd just finished bundling his soiled clothes into a laundry bag.

"Captain? You in there?"

It was Eld's voice.

"Run training this morning Eld."

"Uh - Ok sir…where do you want us to-"

"Head to the track."

There was a pause, then he heard Eld sigh and walk away from the door. He slumped on the edge of his bed wearing nothing but his underwear and his head fell into his hands.

Shit.

It was like a light had turned on in a far off room in his mind.

He wasn't 'sick' at all, and he never had been…at least not in the way he thought he was.

It was all him…his mind, his thoughts that were the problem, or rather, his persistent stifling of certain thoughts…that was what had been causing his ridiculous temperature changes and racing heart, his dry throat and headaches. Something had to give at some point, and it seemed that he'd reached his limit of pushing his desires away.

He couldn't believe he'd been so fucking stupid. It was so damn obvious a moron could've spotted it. His head was pounding, and he pressed forcefully into his forehead with his fingertips.

What would it feel like to push up against her? To press his lips to hers? He snorted. And why did his body want him to engage in such behaviour?

He knew it was filthy, other people weren't clean. He'd been around such activity since he was born, passed between the powdered, rouged women on their breaks while his mother earned them the money they needed to survive.

Personally, besides a couple of brief experiences in his youth, before he'd fully realised the extent of the squalor he was living in, he'd steered clear of touching anyone - especially in that way. He barely touched himself beyond his mid-teenage years. And he found that whenever he'd given in to such a base instinct, the disgust he felt afterwards far outweighed any pleasurable feeling he might have had before it.

It was revolting, dirty, horrifying.

But now…he wanted it. He wanted it more than he could remember ever wanting it before, even in his ignorant, bratty youth. She'd pulled it out of him…somehow…he found he would endure the filth of their bodies rubbing against one another if it meant he got to know what it felt like to touch her, claim her and hear her cry out in pleasure, to watch her writhe and scream, him surrounded by the wet warm softness of her perfect body…he was getting hard again just thinking about it.

He growled.

It was unreconcilable. This was it; the root of his sickness for the past month.

Almost since the second he'd set his eyes on her, he'd been deliberately dividing himself in two. It was so completely clear…and yet, he'd intentionally blinded himself, so disgusted by the thought of such things as they related to him, and foolish enough to believe he could've dammed up the oncoming flood forever.

If he had it his way his wouldn't even need to eat or sleep at all. He didn't want to need anything, let alone have any urges he wasn't in control of.

Damn Hange and their insufferable foresight.

"When our minds and bodies don't align…"

For fuck's sake.

Well, now his body was protesting in a more immediate way than simple temperature fluctuations and a stuttering heart.

Pet.

…

He sighed.

Now that he thought about it, she was the first person in his life that he'd chosen to spend time with.

He chose her.

Everyone else he knew had thrust themselves upon him regardless of his feelings about it, for better or worse. Kenny. Furlan. Isabel. The other members of his squad had known what they were trialling for, and been selected by him and Erwin jointly. Even Erwin had elbowed his way into Levi's life by manipulating him into joining the scouts.

But Petra…she hadn't even known that she was trialling, let alone what for. He pushed her into it, and after seeing her he hadn't seriously considered anyone else.

And still, in spite of that, she hadn't complained once, she'd tied the whole team together and even gone out of her way to make them all coffee every single morning…and she did it all with a beautiful smile.

She was soft and clean and warm and bright. All the things he'd never been allowed.

His breath eased a little and he brought his head out of his hands. He supposed that this realisation, as uncomfortable as it made him, could only be a good thing. Now at least he could find ways to deal with it, move past it perhaps. He'd learned from a young age not to let much show on the surface, and this was no different. If he could control his emotions when soldiers were maimed and lost, he could control his attraction to her, so long as he didn't deny its existence.

He'd simply have to carry on with his duties as usual, treat it as just another in his long list of daily irritations.

Petra got to her feet, grumbling. The snow was melting on the sleeves of her jacket and making it all wet. Why Eld had insisted that they ran drills exactly as normal in the snow (and when the Captain wasn't around to observe) baffled her. Push-ups on the ice covered circuit were not the one.

At different points in the ten lap sprint all three of them fell over, Gunther thrice, which she tried not to giggle at…and it just didn't feel like they were getting as much done, even though they were working twice as hard. She shook her head. The intense weather and lack of two of their number, along with the knowledge of the fast approaching new year's break made her feel a little dispirited. Sure, they had to keep up their stamina and general fitness, but surely there was a better way than this…couldn't they slow down a little?

"Alright booster-seat?"

She slipped walking towards Eld and he grabbed her hand, steadying her.

"I mean…" She started.

Eld raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." She smiled wryly, "Sir."

Gunther smirked at that one, the first genuine smile she'd seen from him since James had been in the hospital.

"Oh I see how it is." Eld quickly pulled her hand up and let go and she thudded to the ground on her ass.

"Hey!" She cried out.

Gunther chuckled a little.

"I don't know what you're laughing at sir-falls-a-lot." Petra sassed, eyebrow raised, surreptitiously gathering snow.

"Right, well I'm calling lunch, let's head to the mess-"

Eld began, only to be forcibly stopped by a faceful of snowball.

"The snow must go on Eld!" Petra yelled, grinning and balling up another icy bullet in preparation for the retaliation she was sure was coming her way.

"Damn." He muttered, wiping snow from his eyes, "That was cold."

Gunther couldn't contain himself and started full on belly laughing, but was subsequently met with a snowball to the face, courtesy of Petra, who started (smartly) running away.

What happened next she could only describe as an all out snow war. It was everyone for themselves as compacted pellets of ice and snow were hurled powerfully and without thought towards one another. In the distance, scouts from other squads walking to their lunch stopped, grinning, pointing and watching the three of them dodge and weave and fling snow at each other.

Petra ducked behind Gunther as Eld chased her, pitching a snowball and hitting Gunther instead.

"Ow!" He bellowed, running after Eld, who dodged him. Gunther skidded and fell over again, while Eld threw another ice ball, getting Petra in the nose. She screwed up her face, rubbing her nose, pleasantly surprised that it hadn't caused a nosebleed.

"That wasn't very nice! Get it? - because ice!" She beamed, bending down to gather more snow.

"Remind me to enrol you in comedy classes," Eld retorted, "You show potential, but you've still got a lot of work to do."

Petra squealed, throwing her arms in front of her face as the two men pelted her with snow.

"For example," Eld smirked, readying another snowball, "I always thought you were more chill than this."

The three of them froze (not literally…kinda literally) on hearing a throat being cleared loudly.

Uh-oh.

Petra froze all over again when she saw that it was Commander Erwin stood watching the three of them with a rather bemused look on his face, and not the Captain, as she had expected.

"Commander! Uh-" Eld began, as they collectively scrambled into a saluting line.

The Commander chuckled, waving his hand, "At ease." He said lightly and the three of them hesitantly relaxed, glancing at one another, shame-faced.

"I have an inkling that Captain Levi hasn't informed you of your uniform fitting for the parade. Would that be a correct assumption?"

Petra watched as Eld's brow twitched, clearly not wanting to get the Captain in trouble, but also fully aware that no, they had not been informed of said fitting.

"Er…" He started, "Yes sir. That would be a correct assumption."

Erwin nodded, "I see. Well, the fitting will be on Friday, that gives the tailor time to make amends if needed. Now that you're aware, make sure Levi doesn't forget."

"Yessir."

"Thank you. Dismissed." He smiled, "Have an enjoyable lunch break."

The three nodded and slowly began to walk away.

"Petra?" The Commander called out, "Could I bend your ear for a moment?"

She stopped dead. Eld gave her an encouraging look and Gunther patted her shoulder, then they took themselves off to the mess hall.

"Yes sir." She said, turning to face him.

She was more than a little intimidated. Commander Erwin was extremely busy, what could he want to talk to her about? She'd also never spoken to him one-on-one before, and now he was stood towering above her, a small gleam in his sky blue eyes.

"Firstly I wanted to congratulate you for work on the past expedition, it looks like you've taken to your new squad like a duck to water."

"Thank you Commander." She blinked, completely unsure how to respond.

He smiled warmly, genuinely, "Am I right in thinking that you are assisting Levi with his paperwork at present?"

"Yes sir, on Tuesday and Thursday evenings."

"Ah. You see I've received a parcel containing some rare and expensive tea leaves from a wealthy donor to the scouts. I haven't much use for it not being a tea drinker myself - and so I wondered if you wouldn't mind taking it off my hands? I'm sure the Captain would be the most appreciative recipient of the gift."

"Of course sir."

"If you come by my office tomorrow after drills you can collect it then, and pass it over to him during the evening's work."

"Yes sir."

"Thank you Petra, dismissed."

She saluted nervously, but brightly.

"Oh, before I forget…" the Commander added, "Please avoid mentioning to Levi where the tea came from. He isn't the type to accept gifts, especially from rich donors. He considers them bribes."

Petra swallowed, "But - then…where should I say I got it from sir?"

He chuckled again and began to walk away across the snow-covered field, "I'm sure you'll work something out."

Huh?

She watched the Commander walk off, blinking a while in disbelief. Couldn't she just say the tea was from him? But then…surely if he wanted her to say that, then he'd just give the tea to the Captain himself…wouldn't he? The two of them had enough meetings together.

He must think that the Captain wouldn't accept the gift from him for the same reason then, that it would still somehow come across as a bribe from a donor…

Still, she had to come up with something. She couldn't very well just waltz in and say;

"I got you this fancy-ass tea Captain…also I love you."

…that would certainly raise alarm bells…

No, even if she managed to keep her mouth shut, giving a gift 'from her' was unprofessional, and he'd see it as such. Not to mention she could almost certainly not afford fancy, rare tea with her salary…

She was sure she was being paranoid, but it had felt a bit like the Captain was avoiding her since they returned from the expedition. The fact that she was the only one who hadn't seen him at all at the weekend until a chance encounter in the hallway the previous evening, then the fact that he wasn't there for drills this morning…

Silly. She had to stop thinking that anything he did had anything to do with her. He was Humanity's Strongest for crying out loud, of course he was busy all the time.

She tutted to herself as she made her way towards the mess hall. She'd figure something out.

The town was rammed with folks picking winter gifts for their loved ones, so Eld tried to get in and out as quickly as possible. But, by the time he'd made it to the nearest fruit and veg seller there wasn't much left, so he'd had to make do with a single sad-looking courgette and four potatoes. Petra could probably whip something up out of that, right?

He placed his shopping bags on the kitchen counter and scratched his chin.

"I just saw the strangest thing." He muttered, passing vegetables from a bag to Petra to start prepping them.

"Eld." Petra scowled when she saw the dire haul he'd retrieved for them.

He shrugged, "People in town are like vultures. This was all they had left."

"There's a letter came for you - it's on the counter." Gunther grumbled from his regular couch seat. Eld smiled, noticing that Gunther was reading his new book.

"Thanks." He muttered, pulling the letter towards himself. His mother's handwriting.

"So, what was this strange thing you saw then?" Petra queried, peeling a potato.

"The Captain, going into the shower house with his bag."

Petra put down the potato and looked at him, "As in…to shower there?"

"You mean the communal shower house?" Gunther added.

"Yeah." He said, starting to tear open the envelope.

"Hmmm." Petra picked up the potato again, "I suppose…why else would you be going into the shower house except to shower…"

Gunther coughed and Eld smirked, letter in hand,

"Something in your throat there Gunther?"

"No." The dark haired man muttered, and hid his face behind his book. Too late though, Eld had already picked up the blush that was creeping over his face.

Petra looked confused as she looked between them, "But…there's a shower here…"

"What Gunther was trying to say…or not say…was that the communal shower house can have its benefits."

"…benefits?" Petra dropped her potato, her light-brown eyes wide, "You don't mean…you think the Captain is hooking up in the showers?!"

Gunther coughed again.

Eld unfolded his letter, "Now you say it out loud it seems much less likely…"

He thought he saw Petra sink a little, she was staring at the peeler kind of glazed over.

"I can't think of any other reason he'd go there is all, what with his cleanliness obsession. There's just no way that that shower block meets his hygiene standards."

"Did either of you ever know an Isabel?" She asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Isabel?" Gunther moved his book down from in front of his face, "Was she a scout?"

Petra frowned, "I've no idea. The Captain gave me something of hers is all."

Eld blinked, "No. Never heard of an Isabel."

"Oh right." She slowly picked up the potato again, distracted by her own thoughts.

Isabel. Huh. Eld had never so much as heard the Captain say the name out loud before.

He passed his eyes over his letter and smiled. His family were well, and his mother had written an extremely long list of suggestions for wedding venues and was urging him to pick a date so she could book. She hadn't specified what she was going to book, which he found amusing, assuming that meant she was going to try and secure all of them…he shook his head. That would be just like her.

—

The communal shower house was nauseating. Levi's cheek twitched the whole walk back, his hair still wet and the freezing air meant he couldn't feel his ears at all.

It was either that or be mercilessly assaulted by erotic images of Petra in the shower at their quarters…after his dream he wasn't sure he'd be able to go in there again, at least for a while. Besides there was nothing less erotic than the filthy communal shower house.

He passed by the common room door, again observing its lively glow and taking in the smells of the squad's cooking. He hadn't decided if he would join them yet. Today had been a whirlwind of unfortunate discovery, and he wasn't sure if spiralling into his failings alone was a better or worse use of his time than attempting 'small-talk' with the squad as a form of distraction from it.

He dumped his wash bag in his room and, after a moment's hesitation, returned to the common room to find them sat around the table, eating.

"Captain!"

They all stopped and smiled at him with a cheerfulness that took him aback. The fire flickered and, in spite of the pitch blackness of the window, the odd small flake of snow was just visible drifting by.

"We saved you some hot pot sir." Eld began, "It's a little more rustic than usual…"

Petra pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes at Eld, "It would have been better if you'd brought us any ingredients at all from town."

Eld shrugged and held out a bowl towards him. Levi blinked and walked into the room, taking the bowl wordlessly and sitting down. After a moment, the chatter of the table started up again, and he felt himself ever so slightly start to relax. He didn't need to converse with them at all, maybe just being here was enough.

He stared into the bowl of stewed veg, then allowed his eyes to move up, towards his companions, to her. She must have sensed his gaze because she caught his eye at that moment, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

"Oh - is it alright? It was the best I could do with-"

"It's delicious." Gunther said, scooping seconds for himself, "You should make more so I can take some down to James in town."

Petra smiled sweetly, breaking her eye contact with Levi, and returned to her meal.

There was a strange sense of loss when she looked away, and he felt, for want of a better word…irritated. He wasn't finished looking at her.

Levi liked things that made sense. Maths. Murdering titans. Probably other things that began with the letter 'm'. But this didn't make sense to him. It was unlike anything he'd ever known before. He was utterly out of his depth.

He picked up his fork and turned it in his fingers a few times before tucking in.

Chapter 24: A Gift

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Week Six - Tuesday

She wasn't late. She was exactly on time.

Petra knocked lightly on the office door, chewing her lip as she looked over the gift bag she held. It was certainly more extravagantly wrapped up than she was expecting, in her opinion far too much for a simple tin of tea leaves. The small bag had ribbon handles, and there was some kind of ridiculous pink tissue paper scrunched up around the tin.

Just how fancy was this tea anyway?

"Come in." The Captain's voice growled, and she felt a slight shiver travel up her spine, he sounded pissed-off, which both thrilled and terrified her.

"Good evening Captain." She stood in the door, suddenly overwhelmingly embarrassed by the small bag in her hand.

"What's that?" He grumbled, barely looking up at her.

She knew he'd pick up on it instantly, just like she knew that the ludicrous extravagance surrounding the gift would only serve to worsen his mood.

"Uh…" She started, staring down at the bag, wondering if it would be possible to set fire to the tissue paper and bag right now in front of him and just hand over the tin, "It's uh…from my mother sir."

He put his pen down and eyed her sharply.

"And what's it doing my office?"

She cleared her throat, "Well…she gave it to me for my birthday you see and…"

She scrunched up her face. Why was this so difficult? There wasn't a single drop of moisture left in her whole mouth,

"I just don't think I'd appreciate it in the way that you will sir…"

What was that? Gosh, why did the Commander ever think she should be tasked with this. She was starting to think about setting fire to herself instead.

"You think that I'd appreciate some frilly, gaudy-ass gift bag?"

"Oh - no sir! I mean, what's inside the bag it's - they're tea leaves sir."

He watched her blankly and she hoped the ground would swallow her.

"We can just…I'll just throw this extra…away if…" She started pulling tissue paper haphazardly out of the gift bag and flinging it on the ground, "…it bothers you sir…"

He continued to look at her expressionlessly. Her mouth fell open as she assessed the mess she'd just made.

"Er…" Then she began desperately gathering up the mess of pink paper, scrunching it into a giant ball. The rustling sounds of her compiling it only served to highlight the otherwise dead silence of the room. After she'd collected all the offending scraps, she scurried over to put them in the bin.

Her heart was fluttering inconsistently and she turned back to him and awkwardly saluted, gift bag still in her hand, blinking repeatedly. He raised his eyebrows a touch, and she considered just walking out of the door and running flat out until she was back home at her parents.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to have your birthday present from your mother."

She gave a meek smile, "If it pleases you sir. They really are very expensive, rare tea leaves - my aunt got a job in a fancy cafe in Sina so I think she got them at a reduced rate."

"Hm."

He continued looking at her and she swallowed. Did she have to keep selling them?

In that moment she wished he was even two percent more readable. She had no idea if he was more furious than before or if he was willing to accept the gift, and it really felt like anything she said now would be a stab in the dark.

"Sit down." He said at length and she did as he asked, trying to keep up something like 'normal' composure.

He handed her a stack of papers, "Get to work."

Right. Of course. He hated time wasting…

Neither of them mentioned that technically her month of paperwork (according to the terms of the arm-wrestle) was up. Petra wondered if he remembered…but then, why would he remember something like that? And she wasn't about to tell him. The time they spent together here in almost total silence twice a week made her feel closer to him, enabled her to fantasise that they had a 'special' relationship. And she wanted to help him in any way she could. Grumpy as he was, she greatly enjoyed his company, and found that she began to slow down filling out forms so that she would finish later into the evening.

She dotted her final full stop and had to repress a sigh. Then she neatened her stack of papers and slipped it inside a folder, standing from her chair to file the work into a drawer by the bookcases. She glanced over to where he was sat and cleared her throat,

"Good evening Captain."

His eyes flicked up towards her, and away again, silently.

Right. She should just go.

But what about the…she paused, eyebrows twitching at the gift bag which remained on the floor by her chair. He hadn't actually said that he wouldn't take it…

His deep voice punctuated the quiet,

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek?"

…yes?

"N-no sir." She stumbled, "I- just-" She made her way towards the bag and removed the red and gold tin, placing it firmly on his desk.

He stared at it a moment, then looked to her. She gave him a small smile and nod, then left before he could protest.

—

After finishing writing his final sentence Levi stared at the tin again. He lifted it and frowned at the label. It looked extremely posh, and begged the question of how, even with a discount Petra's family might have afforded it. He knew that they were poor vegetable sellers, and she'd never mentioned anything about an aunt in Sina before when she told him about her family. Huh.

Well if she didn't want it…

He lifted the lid off the tin and inhaled it. This was premium quality, the kind from the richest shipments meant only for nobles and the royals. When he'd gotten lucky and pilfered the right crates underground he'd come across it before. He ran his hand through his hair. He couldn't accept this, a gift like this…it was too much.

A small piece of parchment caught his eye nestled among the dried leaves and he fished it out and unfolded it to reveal a single heart drawn and coloured neatly in black ink.

His heart stopped…did she…

Tch. Of course not. It was almost certainly drawn by Petra's mother and meant for Petra. Nobody would willingly give their heart to scum like him.

Week Six - Wednesday

"Hmmm…"

Eld was staring into the empty common room, and drumming his fingers on the doorframe in thought.

"What're you doing?" Gunther asked from the hall, he was laden with a small bag.

"I don't know how many to cook for, no idea where Petra is again."

"The Captain might be here, otherwise assume you're just cooking for you. I'm out."

Eld watched Gunther head for the door,

"You off to the hospital?"

"Yeah." He grunted, "I'm bringing James some of my books. It's gotta be really boring being there all day."

"Mind if I join you?"

Gunther blinked, "Uh…sure."

Eld smiled, "Sweet."

The hospital wasn't a pleasant building by any means, it was dingy and bed after bed of groaning invalids stretched through each yellowing room. James himself was the complete antithesis to it, and seemed ecstatic to have some company, thrilled Eld had joined them too.

"Ah, so you're a fan of these geeky goblin books too huh?" Eld asked.

"Oh yeah." James said with a grin, looking through the small collection Gunther had brought him, "I've read most of these more than once. This is the kinda stuff I live for. I keep trying to get him to join me at storytelling club," he gestured at Gunther, "but he won't do it. He keeps saying 'that's a step too far.'"

Eld laughed and glanced at Gunther, who shrugged.

Eld shook his head in mock disbelief, "I can't believe you actually found someone nerdier than you."

James chuckled, "Absolutely. He secretly loves it because he gets to seem cool in comparison."

"Hey." Gunther looked stern, "You should eat your soup."

James smiled and rolled his eyes, picking up his spoon, "The storytelling club have actually been great. They've moved their meetings to here until I get a wheelchair so that I can still join in."

"I didn't know that." Gunther said with a small smile.

Eld ate his bland hospital soup gladly. He'd never seen Gunther like this before, the way he was doting over James…the guy was completely head over heels. It made him think of Harriet, of living in a world without walls where they could all drink strawberry wine together in a field outside a farmhouse they'd own; perhaps they'd have a couple kids who'd call Gunther and James 'uncle'. Petra would be all smiles and the Captain would be…there as well. He'd even consider inviting Oruo and Lina.

Man. He was gonna kill all the fucking titans to make that happen.

Week Six - Thursday

She was doing it deliberately. Had to be. Maybe she'd worked out from the fact that he'd been showering in the communal showers that he…he stopped himself. That was ridiculous. There was no way she could know that. Besides, Petra was a sweet and compassionate soul, not some teasing temptress going out of her way to distract him. He had to stop blaming her for his own damn lunacy.

But what in the world had possessed her to pick up a tight black vest top to match the rest of the squad…

Levi schooled himself. This was simply another trial he had to deal with. He just had to not focus on the amount of skin that was showing, the way the dark fabric clung to her curves and…shit. He snorted, then glared at Eld. Eld had to have told her where to get…no matter.

It wasn't important.

He briefly considered switching up sparring partners, putting Petra with Gunther…no. He couldn't deny her proper training with him because of his misguided desire. He was much better matched with her for teaching purposes. Whatever. It was fine.

Her light copper hair shone under the light from the window as she stood poised across from him, fists up, knuckles wrapped, the blazing fire of determination scorching through her. He always appreciated her will to win; somewhere she must know that she never would. Her tendency to hot-headed optimism gave her cause to keep getting back up. A true scout.

They moved around each other graceful as dancers and he tried not to linger for too long behind her when he taught her how to use the heel of her boot when being attacked from the back. The fresh, clean smell of her hair was particularly distracting.

"One - zero." He muttered after flipping her to the ground.

She scowled, and immediately stood back up, dusting herself off and sprang into position. He matched her, and they went another round, jabbing and dodging at lightning speed.

Eld and Gunther stopped their spar and watched in bewildered awe as the pair of them flitted around one another at such a pace it was hard to keep track of what was going on. Their smaller frames meant that they packed less power with individual attacks, but their sheer agility made for a great spectacle.

Levi swiftly ducked under her jab, and appeared behind her, but she was prepared, blocking his arm before it came around her neck.

"Good." He said, "But not good enough." As he briskly flipped out a blunted knife from his pocket and tapped it to her neck with his other hand;

"You never know if your opponent will be armed."

She made a noise of irritation and returned to the starting position.

"Two - zero." He stretched out his arms, "You're gonna have to work harder if you wanna be able to punch Eld in the jaw."

She blinked, dropping her fists, "Is that why we're doing this sir?"

"No. We're doing this because you suck ass and I can't have you embarrassing my squad. But…" He cocked his head, and spoke slowly, "doesn't punching Eld in the jaw sound like a nice bonus?"

"Hey!" Eld scowled from across the gym, "I heard that!"

"I said it loudly." Levi said and Petra giggled.

Hm.

"Why me Captain? Why not Oruo?" Eld shouted, dodging a swing from Gunther.

"If she can hit you, then she can hit Oruo." He replied matter-of-factly.

This time she ran at him and flung her arm up with such force against his that he lost the grip on his knife, which span through the air. She smirked, proud of herself.

Then they were once again locked pushing against one another, him gripping at her wrists and her fighting to get free. He fought the urge to glance at the little bit of cleavage that was on show, gritting his teeth. She tried to kick him off balance, but he stepped his leg out of the way and moved his weight forward, and instead she fell off balance, her eyes rapidly widening as she fell backwards and he fell forwards onto her, and landed above her, pinning her to the ground, his thumbs pressing hard into the palms of her hands, her hair splayed attractively about her like a glowing ginger crown. He tried to tell himself he hadn't done it deliberately.

Her chest heaved and they remained in the position for a moment staring straight into each other's eyes.

"Three - zero." He said lowly, not loosening his grip on her even slightly. Electricity was flowing through him, and the rest of the room had fallen away.

"I beg to differ sir." Her voice was quiet, "I think this round was a draw."

He frowned, "Is that so?" Then watched as her eyes travelled down his torso lower and lower and he followed them, coming to rest at her knee which was hovering millimetres away from his crotch.

"One small move from me and you'd be incapacitated, right sir?"

His breath caught a little. He opened his mouth, but any thoughts he had had gone out of his head.

"Levi."

His eyes flicked up to Erwin, who was suddenly stood in the doorway to the little gym, inquisitively assessing their compromising position.

"Tch." He let go of Petra's wrists and got up, unwrapping his hands, "What is it eyebrows."

Erwin looked stern, but upon closer inspection Levi thought the man's eyes were smiling. Was that even a thing? He scowled.

"You're needed with me in court this afternoon as a witness."

"To what?"

"The Schuster case."

"They said they only needed one of us."

"Nile has requested your presence as well. We'll be back by early evening."

"Gimme a break."

Levi crossed his arms, and the rest of the squad looked on, perplexed.

Erwin took a breath, "I'll give you a moment to get ready and delegate the afternoon's work to your squad. Then meet me in the courtyard. And you may wish to change."

Erwin left, and Petra slowly stood up.

"What's the Schuster case sir?" Gunther asked.

Levi sighed and brought his hand to his head, "Luis Schuster was an MP, we caught him accepting bribes in town a few months ago. Course the pigs in the Military Police are defending him."

"So, I take it that means they wanna take you down in front of the judge for their credibility…" Eld meditated.

"Mm. Nile knows that I don't come across as shiny and polished as Erwin when subjected to their bullshit. Likely he twisted someone's arm to make sure I have to testify." He exhaled, "It won't be the first time they've tried this kind of character assassination to save one of their own."

He turned to Eld, "I hate that I keep doing this to you recently, but, lead the afternoon. Come back here after the break; see if Mike's squad will let you join them."

"Sir." Eld nodded.

What a day.

Petra had been spectacularly unfocused during the afternoon's sparring against Mike's squad, even accidentally letting Lynne hit her in the face. It wasn't too hard luckily, but Lynne was shocked that it had actually connected, and immediately felt terrible. She spent a good ten minutes making sure Petra was alright, even going so far as to gather snow from outside to 'ice' the bruise.

Petra walked it off of course, it was fine. She'd get punched again a thousand times over if it meant she got to think about being pinned to the ground under the Captain, staring into his eyes, feeling his weight, the strength of his hands. A delicious shiver went through her.

"Hey Petra," Gunther started, "Why don't you take a bowl of this to the office? I doubt the Captain would have had time to eat after the trial."

He held out a bowl of his famous mushroom stroganoff, one of the squad's collective favourites.

"Good idea." She said with a smile, having had the same thought. She grabbed a tray and placed the bowl onto it, along with a second bowl two forks and a tea towel to cover it, "I'll eat there too. He's more likely to eat if I'm also…eating."

Gunther raised his eyebrow.

"You know…no-one likes to be watched while they eat." She added.

Gunther nodded, "True."

Her walk over the snow and ice covered paths was comical as she tried to stay upright with her tray, and more than one passing scout asked her if she was alright, and what she was doing.

The Captain was sat tiredly behind his desk when she eventually arrived. He was wearing a rather debonair black suit and she couldn't contain her smile as she observed him sat, chin in hand, scanning through something. He was so gorgeous. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it instantly, the moment she met him. He did an almost imperceptible double take at the tray she was carrying.

"You seem to enjoy bringing pointless things to my office recently. What, is it show and tell or something?"

She bit back a giggle, "No sir, it's stroganoff."

She placed the tray on his desk and stared straight at him. He stared back in opposition.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

She blinked, "Eat it sir."

He scoffed flipping through whatever document he was reading, a little blasé.

"I know you haven't eaten yet and…well…you should eat, sir."

He ignored her, but she was certain that he wasn't actually reading any of the words on the papers he was flicking through. She forced away a curious smirk. He was being almost…childish. It was quite unusual, a quality she'd never seen in him before, and once again she felt privileged that she'd been allowed to see another part of him.

Well then, she'd just have to play along.

She sat down in her chair, removed the tea towel covering the tray, pulled her bowl towards herself and began to eat.

"Mmm." She hummed, "Gunther's stroganoff really is the best."

He dropped his papers pointedly, some of the sternness had fallen away from his features and he gave her a curious look.

"No-one likes to be watched while they eat Captain. Maybe you should join me?"

A light went through his eyes.

"Does this look like the mess hall to you?"

She was struggling not to smile, and kept her eyes to her meal, "No sir."

She continued to eat and he continued to stare inquisitively.

"Really Captain, it's going to get cold if you wait."

He frowned, eventually replying;

"Not hungry."

She noticed that he'd yet to reprimand her for her blatant disregard for his wishes, which only served to spur her on.

Her mind wandered to Moblit, how he made sure that Hange was able to do their job to the best of their ability, checking on them, diving in to push them out of harm's way at every turn. She smiled…something clicked. Inappropriate personal feelings aside, she had to do the same for her Captain, and she was going to stop suppressing her instincts to check up on him.

He didn't look after himself properly, and she was going to make sure that she did everything in her power to help, having just realised that she was in a unique position to do so. He wasn't going to get away with neglecting himself anymore, not if he wanted her on his squad.

Now seemed like the perfect time to test those boundaries…maybe she'd invite Moblit for a drink later and ask for tips in dealing with a…trying boss.

"How was the trial today sir?" She asked casually.

"Shit." He grumbled, picking up a pen and starting to write.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She replied, watching his pen scratch away for a while.

He was still yet to assign her any work.

"Nile Dok is an asshole." He muttered, and Petra's eyes lit up.

Was he…volunteering his thoughts?

She swallowed a mouthful, and somewhat quashed her fluttering excitement, "I'm assuming, sir, that you're speaking from experience?"

He continued writing, and nothing about his expression denoted even hearing her question. But Petra wasn't going to let this opportunity for conversation with him slide by so easily, not if she could help it.

"You know, I could have chosen to be an MP. I graduated fifth in my class."

He glanced at her blankly, which she took as encouragement. A small part of her had still expected him to say something like, "And that's relevant?" in a dry, dismissive tone.

"Oruo was fourth." She smiled, "A part of me thought he'd go for it, become an MP."

He blinked, but carried on watching her.

"He's got a big family, and an MP's salary would have certainly been better for them. He didn't though. Not after we heard the Commander's spee-"

"No." He interrupted, "He followed you."

Her heart stopped a moment.

His grey eyes were flat, a little clouded as he watched her for a response.

She swallowed, "But - why would he…"

He looked away and she trailed off, but continued to stare at him as he pulled the remaining bowl of stroganoff towards himself. He twisted the fork in his hand, watching it glint in the candlelight. After a few moments, he decided to tuck in.

She blinked several times, astounded. At least she'd managed to get him to eat something, though she wasn't quite sure how.

What did he mean? Why would Oruo…? She stared into her bowl, which was now empty. What could he…she frowned. Did he mean that Oruo would follow her to the scouts to keep an eye on her because they'd been close? To protect her? Because if that was the case then…she didn't need…the thought made her silently seethe.

She balled up her fist, scowling. She tried to catch the Captain's eye, but he simply scanned through whatever document he had, taking the odd bite of stroganoff. He was making it quite clear that he didn't plan to elaborate.

After a time she cleared the empty bowls away and put the tray on the side, planning on returning it to the barracks when she'd finished her paperwork. She noticed the minuscule pile of papers that he'd allocated to her, and took her seat once again to work through them. In under ten minutes, even going at a slow pace, she'd completed the work. She sighed silently, closing the manila folder and eyed the Captain, hoping he might give her something else to do.

He cleared his throat.

"I…" He started, then looked down.

Her heart was suddenly thudding.

He wasn't looking at her, but she was seeing him; there it was, that gentle something, that vulnerability, sitting at his very core and she had no idea if he knew that it was visible.

He was struggling with something, and she felt strange, almost like she'd been given a bubble and tasked with the responsibility of not letting it burst in her hands.

"Here." He said, opening a drawer and placing a small paperback book on the desk in front of her.

She held her breath as she pulled it across the desk and read the front. It was a new book of cryptic crossword puzzles to fill in. She couldn't hide her confused smile as she returned her eyes to him, though he didn't look up from his papers,

"Saw it in town. Thought it could work out as payment for the tea."

She beamed, "Captain is this…a birthday present?"

"Don't get cute."

And the walls were back up. He stared back at her and she pressed her lips together to avoid grinning.

"Thank you sir."

He blinked, then returned to writing.

She hesitated a moment before opening the book and picking up a pen.

It loves wildflowers (7 letters)

She smiled and wrote down 'Violets'.

Notes:

in case anyone doesn't know/ is interested I thought id put a little cryptic crossword solve here:

In cryptic crossword clues the 'clue' is divided into two parts, the puzzle and the definition. The definition being the synonym for the answer. The definition will always come either at the beginning or the end of the clue (the very first or very last words), and the rest will be the word puzzle. The puzzles can vary in difficulty too, but once you are sure of the definition, both parts work together to make it easier… (the letter count helps too)

So, taking the example from this chapter, the last word 'wildflowers' is the definition, and the puzzle is 'it loves'…in this case the puzzle is a simple anagram which gives you 'violets' which are a type of wildflower!

In chapter 12 the tavern quiz, the clue is 'underground store for a vendor, so we hear.' Here the definition is at the start 'an underground store'.

That means 'for a vendor, so we hear' is the puzzle. 'So we hear' meaning 'sounds like' so we are looking for another word 'for a vendor' that sounds like another word for 'an underground store' - i.e 'seller' which sounds the same as 'cellar'…and we know that 'cellar' is the answer since 'underground store' is at the beginning of the clue…a little more confusing than the wildflowers one…

Im certain I've butchered this explanation, but thought it might be nice to put in just in case anyone wanted to know about it who didn't already…! 3

Chapter 25: Trost Winter Parade

Chapter Text

Week Seven - Saturday

'Trost Winter Parade'

"No Eld, you shouldn't get an earring." Petra sighed.

Gunther was shaking his head, eyes closed.

Eld pulled on his ear, "But it-"

"What if it gets caught on your hair or your gear?" She crossed her arms.

Gunther nodded in agreement, eyes still closed.

Eld huffed and crossed his arms, "You guys don't know what's cool."

Petra shrugged, "Say what you will, I'm saving you an earful from the Captain."

"I wouldn't trust him not to just rip it out the second he notices it." Gunther said flatly.

"Not to mention it's the kind of thing Oruo might compliment you for." Petra added, and Eld's eyes slowly widened as the truth of the statement hit him;

"Ah small fry - you always know just what to say to change my mind."

Petra giggled.

After a fairly long morning's ride, they were stood in an offshoot of the Trost town hall; a building with an air of dingy ostentation, as though it were once grand, but had somewhat fallen into disrepair. They had been gathered by the festival organisers, and were hanging about waiting for their specially tailored uniforms to arrive so they could get changed.

Gunther looked over towards Captain Levi, who had his arms crossed and was being rambled at by a bejewelled, bearded older gentleman some feet away. While they waited, he and the other higher ranking officers had been tasked with sweet-talking various patrons.

"I haven't seen him look this irritated since Oruo bought the wrong wood polish." Gunther said.

"Yeah." Eld mused, "He looks like he's trying to crack a safe."

Petra couldn't force away her smile as she watched the Captain's grumpy little face. She could practically hear his mental cursing. He was adorable.

"I think I can see his eye twitching." She said quietly.

"I wonder how much funding he's unintentionally lost for the regiment today." Gunther reflected.

All the other squads in the survey corps were dismissed for the winter break at the end of drills on Friday, so the news that three of the elite squads had to stay an extra day to take part in the parade was annoying. For them it meant one less day of seeing friends and family, and the scouts didn't get a whole bunch of time off as it was. Not only that, but they still had to make it back to the main compound after the parade to collect their belongings, and since Trost was a couple of hours ride away from it, nobody would be able to even start on their journey home until Sunday.

As a kind of thank-you in light of the inconvenience, Commander Erwin had wrangled cheap accommodation at local inn for the evening; the plan being that the group would return to the compound together at dawn, before setting off to their respective homes.

A further twenty minutes passed before the parade uniforms arrived, and Petra was led away to the women's changing area.

At their fitting a week prior she'd been pleasantly surprised by the design; especially because for a while there were some rumours going around that the festival uniforms would be orange, and frankly she couldn't wear orange. She'd look like a rogue carrot had decided to leave its simple vegetable life behind, and instead bungee around the town. No, she would have had to take a sick day.

She ran her hands down the fine wool of her fitted powder-blue double-breasted jacket. It had white trim and shining silver buttons. On the back and upper arms the scouts wings of freedom were embroidered in various greens.

Blue, white, silver and green.

The trousers matched the jacket, but they'd been told to wear their standard issue white shirts, brown boots and harnesses over the top…she supposed that was to do with the limited budget for the endeavour, though when she caught herself in the mirror noted with a smile that she looked very smart. She briefly wondered if her mother saw her dressed in such a formal way, if she'd be more willing to accept her decision to join the scouts.

—

Levi was sure he was too old for this shit.

Bright colours, lanterns, ridiculous outfits…everything he looked at he found trying and garish.

And what the hell was the point in choosing the suit colour if it wasn't relevant anyway? He'd given Erwin a hard time at the fitting when the fabric was first unveiled in all its powder blue glory. He'd initially picked blue anyway, so he should have just shut his mouth and been done with it, but he couldn't help but be pissed that Erwin had dragged him through the whole charade of picking a colour if it meant nothing.

After getting changed into his parade outfit he'd shut himself in one of the small prep rooms to escape for a moment. It was tiny, housing only a small window and chair, and the floor was littered with boxes filled with broken parade decorations. He leant against the wall, eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another damn headache.

He was pretty sure he'd lost them a funder too in one of his brief conversations, and yet Erwin still insisted he joined them for some pointless reason. Erwin seemed to think that everyone was desperate to meet 'Humanity's Strongest' when in reality, whatever they'd made up about him before they met him was always going to be better. People just didn't live up to the brilliance of the mind's painting; they were real, messy and often completely broken.

A knock sounded and he opened his eyes a touch. The door tentatively squeaked on its hinges to reveal Petra, wide-eyed and suited-up.

"Um - Captain? I've been looking for you…" She began, and he noticed the white silk fabric she held in her hand. So that was where his cravat went. He'd assumed the tailors had forgotten about it, as it was an extra request (a placatory gift from Erwin); but, it seemed that they did know what they were doing after all, judging by the way her suit pulled in attractively at her waist.

"I think they mistakenly put this in the women's changing area sir…"

He held out his hand for it as she approached him with some caution.

"Sir…um…may I…?" She started and faltered, but not before he'd caught her meaning. He slowly lowered his hand, stepped away from the wall and stared at her, unblinking.

He detected some glitter return to her large eyes at his simple action, though she was careful not to catch his as she stepped towards him and began turning up his collar, her fingers moving in such a way as to avoid ever coming into contact with his neck. She was barely an inch shorter than him. Her breath was soft and even, and light vanilla wafted.

He couldn't keep his gaze from her face as she frowned cutely in concentration, flipping the left end over the right as she tied, and found he had to focus on controlling the flow of air in and out of his lungs.

She was…pretty. No, she was…

It was fucked up how beautiful this woman was. An angel in blue and white. He noticed his headache was easing as he considered her soft features.

She briefly caught his flat, unblinking gaze, then immediately returned to her task, perhaps a touch more flustered than before;

"Is everything alright sir?" Her voice was quiet.

He imagined sitting down in the chair, pulling her onto his lap and ripping open her fitted jacket so that the silver buttons pinged all over the little room; then they'd fuck, their faces millimetres from one another; hot, wavering breath, her hand fisting in his hair, and she'd throw her head back and sigh his name over and over and…

He nodded curtly as she began turning down his collar.

"There." She said, her fingertips lingering on the fabric a split second longer than completely necessary, and her caramel eyes moved to the floor.

"We uh…we don't have long Captain."

"Go out and join the squad." He grunted, "I'll be a minute."

She saluted, avoiding his gaze, and walked out.

Perhaps he shouldn't have let her tie his cravat. He ran his fingers along the silk, admiring the slight shine in the light from the window. But…she'd offered…and he wanted her to tie it. Was it so bad to let her be near him, even for a moment? It meant nothing, and yet it was impossible not to recognise again how her presence had eased his irritation about the day as a whole. Had she seen it?

He folded his arms and leant back on the wall.

It hadn't gone unnoticed by him that she'd taken it upon herself to check up on him, make sure he was eating and taking breaks when he should. Also that she was still turning up to his office on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and after completing her rapidly diminishing workload, just sat and worked through her crossword book, as he'd secretly hoped she might when he'd given it to her.

Then there was the way she looked at him, smiled at him. The way she seemed to giggle more when he spoke, the sparkle in her eyes that he didn't really see outside of his office. She'd tuck her hair behind her ear more often, avoid holding his gaze, ask him how he was (not that he answered) - but…no-one ever asked him how he was. She didn't want to disappoint him, and she was deeply dedicated to her job, that much was clear, and yet…the longer he knew her, the more he thought it was more than that. It felt like it was more than that.

It was looking increasingly likely to him that she also…

He had to stop with this bullshit wishful thinking. It was inappropriate. It was a waste of his time.

Whenever he'd been subjected to any kind of 'love' before, be it a story, the fumbling hands of teenage years, sweethearts coupled in the street or the drunken wailing of spurned soldiers at the tavern, he'd shrugged it off as nonsense. He'd wondered why people couldn't control themselves when the subject was broached, why they couldn't stop their incessant shrieking about pointless things.

No-one was owed romance; especially not while the vast majority were starving and struggling just to stay alive. Such feelings were a superficial, shallow luxury; one he would never lower himself to. They were the emotions and stories of surface folk. The thing was, he'd always found that stance to be a spectacularly easy one to take, after all, those types of feelings were not necessary for survival, which was all he'd ever been trying to do underground. As a bystander, love was watching a group of lost fools frittering away their energy into the darkened void for no reason; a redundant distraction and indulgence. His opinion on that subject hadn't much changed either, this was a distraction, but he hadn't realised the level to which the right person would distract him.

For the first time, he wasn't a bystander, he was walking (albeit extremely unwillingly) towards the void. Didn't much feel like he had a choice. Shit, he wasn't walking, he was being dragged resentfully towards it.

She'd turned his world upside down: in all the ways he was usually so hard-edged, for her, he softened, and in the ways he'd always been soft, she made him…hard. And so now here he was, dealing with a damn pointless mess of feelings that he was so sure he'd always been above.

But knowing this now wasn't helpful. None of it changed the fact that he had a duty to a cause, to humanity, and to Erwin. That duty was critical. He couldn't…and Petra…if she felt anything for him, once she learned anything at all about him, wasn't going to want…

Damn it. His heart was beating fast again.

He grimaced. He just needed to get through this shitty day. Then he'd be rid of the lot of them for the winter break and he could get his head straight.

The veterans were lined up parallel on the roofs either side of a street in central Trost.

They were the only one of the three regiments of the Military to be fully kitted out and using the ODM gear during the parade, probably because the if the other regiments had tried, they would have been shown up…they just weren't anywhere near as practiced as the scouts. In the end, the other regiments had opted for some kind of marching band/ banner type shebang.

The scouts themselves had a pretty, acrobatic diving and sword skills demonstration lined up. The Commander had paired each of the members of the three present squads up and positioned them on opposing sides of the street so they could fly through in unison, swapping sides as they followed their float; which was adorned with confetti-filled fake trees and titan figures that they would slice through at the end of the parade route. Petra's partner was of course Captain Levi, due to similarities in stature and speed, and the pair of them were placed last in the line up because of the Captain's unmatched prowess and his title.

How they'd funded the whole thing was beyond her, but she supposed the goal itself was to get more funding, and putting on a good show was likely to achieve that. It was common knowledge that the Commander was something of a gambler.

Nifa was stood in line one spot ahead and turned back to face her, a cheeky glint in her yellow-gold eyes,

"Captain Levi sure looks at you a lot Petra."

Petra felt her face heat up, "Huh?" She glanced to the roof across the street where he was stood. He wasn't looking at her however, but was focused off into the distance to the end of the street, where the parade route would lead.

"He's-" She began, "He's probably just checking on me because we're partners."

She hoped Nifa hadn't clocked the redness in her ears.

"If you say so." Nifa chirped with a grin, "You ready?"

Petra beamed and nodded.

Within moments the parade began and floats were being pulled down the street along with dancers, singers, folk musicians and an abundance of ridiculous costumes and local businesses marketing themselves. Wintery smells floated through the air, several of the floats had incense burning, and some offered warm buns and free cups of shaved ice and syrup.

After the towns folk's floats passed came the Garrison regiment decked out in white uniforms. They marched in orderly lines throwing red roses and wheeling cannons. At the very back of their group several soldiers carried a large paper-mache wall which had a goofy smiley face painted on it. Petra wondered who'd been in charge of the display, because it looked like Pixis'd delegated it to the the local nursery.

The MP's and their lavish brass band were next, marching through the street below wearing fancy red suits trimmed in gold. A couple were on horses that had been sprayed green and had fake unicorn horns attached to their heads. It was all a bit much. She burst out laughing as she caught Eld on the roof opposite making a lewd gesture and pointing at them. She couldn't help a stolen glance towards her Captain; and it was clear that he was hating every ostentatious second of it.

After they'd gone, the scouts 'titan forest' float was pulled through, headed up by Commander Erwin on his grey steed, who was looking very dashing in his powder blue suit. Multiple spectators began to whisper has he passed, and some young women blushed and fanned themselves which didn't make a whole lot of sense as it was freezing and there was still snow everywhere.

The scouts that were lined-up on the roofs then dove into the road and followed the floats to pleased gasps from the crowd who clearly were not expecting them. Each pair criss-crossed and glided through the middle of the streets, elegantly flipping and spinning as they passed one another, occasionally sweeping their blades through the air so they flashed and sparkled in the winter sunlight.

Petra thought she caught Eld high-fiving a kid when he swung to street level up ahead and chuckled to herself.

The practice she had with the Captain specifically at silently reading his instructions was proving a godsend. They weaved and span around one another harmoniously; for the day, a pair of tiny acrobats.

If she thought she'd looked good in the suit, the Captain was something else. He looked unbelievable. Her knees were so weak when she'd tied his cravat she was fairly certain she was going to collapse, and was surprised that she'd made it out of the room in an upright position. The colour of the uniform brought out the blue in his eyes which sent the blood rushing all kinds of ways around her. Then…his scent…the clean white soap, perhaps the same bar she'd bought him some weeks ago at the market. She hoped so.

They caught eyes momentarily as they crossed paths, their hooks embedding on the roofs of the opposite buildings and flew ever onwards. As she dipped low above the crowd, Petra overheard snippets of conversations:

"Hey - isn't that Captain Levi?"

"Wow, look at him go!"

"But…he's so tiny…"

"He's the most powerful human ever to have lived!"

"By the walls he's fast!"

"Did you know that when he looks at titans, they turn to stone?"

"Really? I heard that he grinds their bones to make his bread."

"Oh - do you think that's what stunted his growth?"

Blimey. Did he hear this whenever he came out into public? It sure was a lot.

He must've been picking up on it too, and he didn't look at all like he was enjoying it. She tried at odd moments to flash him an encouraging smile, but she wasn't sure if he even noticed.

What an awesome day.

After initially being mad that his winter-break was being cut a bit short, Eld had done a full one-eighty and was having the best time in the street eating a syrup ice cone with his pal Gunther.

The crowd had (mostly) cheered when each pair sliced up the fake titans on the float at the end of the parade. The glitter and confetti that exploded through the air at the end made the odd heckle and boo that much easier to tune out. Since the end of the parade, the on duty veterans were scattered around the Trost main square in their matching uniforms, awaiting dismissal from Commander Erwin.

"Whose idea was it to serve cold cones in winter?" Eld wondered aloud.

"Don't care. Delicious." Gunther's lips had gone a little blue.

"Hey - you guys!" Nifa sprinted through the crowded slush ridden street towards him and Gunther, "We're all heading to a bar if you want to come? The Commander has formally dismissed us - only the squad leaders have to go on to the benefit. Whaddya say? A few hours, couple drinks then we can head to the inn."

"Sounds great." Eld nodded and Gunther gave a small smile.

The evening air was biting, and Levi was sour.

"Cheer up Levi - it wasn't so bad. Erwin says we nearly doubled our target." Hange put an arm over his shoulder, and he flinched at the contact, shrugging it off indignantly.

God damn rich pricks. Pompous assholes. They always treated him like shit; it didn't matter how fancily he dressed, how many silk-ass cravats Erwin bought him. Even when it wasn't immediately obvious, there was something in the tone of voice, a superiority or sometimes worse; pity. They looked down on him in every possible way. Overindulged beady little eyes said:

"You were born into a shitheap, and the only thing that gets thrown onto the shitheap, is more shit."

It was the worst part of his job, by a long stretch. At least it was legal to murder the titans.

Having taken his hint, Hange raced off in front and threw their arms around Erwin and Mike's shoulders. The champagne had gone to everyone's heads.

Levi trailed behind them down cobbled streets, hands in his pockets, telling himself over and over again that he couldn't wait for the solitude of the coming weeks, that he couldn't wait to just be left alone. He mostly believed it.

He brought his eyes away from the stone path, noticing that the three blockheads up ahead had made a wrong turn, this wasn't the way to the inn;

"Hey." He called out to them.

They mustn't have heard over their loud, tipsy chattering. Hange was practically shrieking, probably waking up the whole damn town. Moron.

"Hey." He said with a little more force, but they ignored him once again and turned the corner. He saw Mike push through the door of a thin creaky looking tavern, with diamond shaped patterns on the windows. He scowled. This dump?

He stopped. The street was cold and empty; littered with all sorts of shit from the parade, flyers, confetti, mushed up old snow. The lonely path only served to enhance the glowing warmth and noise inside. Through the windows he saw shadows dance and chat and drink, and heard the tinkling of faint music.

He sighed, his breath misting onto the air. After a moment collecting himself; bracing himself for the almost certainly filthy place he was about to enter, he walked through the door.

A long bar ran across the left hand side of the very narrow room, and small round tables covered the rest of the floor, each lit with a candle. It was packed out with drunks from the parade, and he spotted the light blue parade uniforms of the veteran scouts by the window on the right, spread over several tables. It was hard to see past all the bodies, but at the very end of the room looked like a raised platform on which a band-

Huh?

Mike jumped up onto the stage, fist bumped Moblit who held a circular guitar-type thing, and went to sit behind a drum kit which was set out. By him, Lynne was stood behind some sort of massive violin that went all the way to the floor, Gelgar held a kind of brass…horn. Abel sat next to a tiny piano, but held in his hands an even smaller one in a red box strapped about his person, and there, centre stage by Moblit and Gelgar, was Petra, beaming, blushing, a guitar hanging across her shoulders.

He blinked once, unsure how to respond to what he was seeing. Then, without taking his curious eyes from the stage, he came to lean on the wall by the entrance with his arms folded, as dramatic drunk 'shushing' spread through the crowd.

"Now we're all here…" Moblit began, checking over his band mates, then turning to face the crowd, "I hope everyone had a great parade!"

The tables and various standing boozers cheered.

Moblit laughed awkwardly, his hand on his neck, "Well it sure sounds like it. We're the scout regiment's official band, and we'd like to play some songs for you this evening."

"Woo!"

Levi clocked Eld, who was definitely drunk, stand up and shout, pumping his fist in the air. Tch.

"One, two three…" Moblit breathed and the band began to play.

The music was upbeat, a bit jangly and Levi had to admit he was…impressed. They were good. Very good.

Gelgar crooned some 'poetic' words, a bottle of something in one hand, and his strange brass instrument in the other. Mike held a strong, steady beat, tapping periodically on a cymbal. Abel's red box of keys sounded a bit like a quieter version of a church organ. Moblit's weird-circle guitar twanged, and Lynne's giant violin was low and resonant.

And…Petra's clean fingernails picked and strummed rhythmically. He would have said that she was playing perfectly, but nothing in this shitty world could be described as perfect when it was next to her smile.

Shit.

He took a regulating breath.

Hearing a guitar again brought him straight back to standing outside the front door to his apartment with Furlan and Isabel. There was a busker who often played there, and on a good day, Isabel would run over to give the man a single copper coin.

He looked at his boots, trying to focus on picking out the separate melody lines when a glass of whiskey was thrust under his nose.

"Neat." Came Erwin's voice.

Levi grudgingly took the drink, but didn't look up.

"Did you know about this?" He grumbled.

"Yes." Erwin replied, leaning on the wall by him, "Moblit, Lynne and Mike put in a request to start it up not so long ago. I thought it was a good idea, that it could work out as extra curricular team-building. I gather they've been working two drop-in practices week to week, and it seems to be doing very well."

"Another road cleared up ahead,

Still a hundred miles between us,

Bottle empty, sky is red,

But there's still miles and miles between us,"

Gelgar crooned, and then began to blow on his brass horn.

—

So that's where she'd been all those evenings. Eld shook his head. Honestly.

"Did you know about this?" He shouted over the noise to Gunther who nodded.

"Yeah. Sometimes me and James would sit in the corner and watch them practice."

Eld frowned, "…and you never thought of inviting me and Oruo?"

Gunther looked at the table guiltily.

"Petra was embarrassed." He muttered, Eld barely heard it over the rabble and music.

Eld's jaw dropped, "What the hell? Embarrassed about what? Has she got ears?"

Gunther shrugged, "She said she wanted it to be really good before you guys heard her play. She said she thought you'd both tease her."

Ah.

Eld scratched his head. It wasn't like he could deny that he would have. He'd outright laughed in Moblit's face the first time the poor guy'd mentioned it.

"Oh." He said.

"Next year you should join us, bring some beer we can sit in the corner." Gunther ventured.

Eld swigged his drink, "Maybe I will."

—

The rest of the band stopped playing and turned to Abel, who had removed his red piano 'box' and moved to the tiny piano he was sat next to. After a moment, he began to play. The sound was chiming and light, unlike anything Levi'd ever heard before.

"Hey Erwin - what's that?" He asked with a nod towards Abel.

"It's called a Celeste, meaning 'heavenly.' A rather beautiful instrument, wouldn't you say?"

Petra joined in, strumming gentle chords, moving from major to minor in journey of bittersweetness. Levi noticed that the rest of the band had their eyes intently on her; Moblit had a small smile pulling at his lips and light in his eyes that Levi could only think to describe as a kind of pride, or gratitude.

"It's too twinkly." Levi murmured and Erwin chuckled.

"I trust too easily,

That's what my mother always said,

And at night I'm drowning in my bed…"

The room had suddenly gone silent, all the buzz and chatter completely settled, and every pair of eyes fell on the small red-haired scout, as she sang a melancholy tune with haunting beauty.

"My lips are sealed,

I'm watching every word you write,

Doesn't the night sky need its starlight?"

Everyone was completely spellbound.

Levi forced whiskey into his mouth in a hope that the burning sensation might rake him back down to earth. He glanced over to the tables where the veterans were sat, and saw Gunther's eyes boring into his drink, fingers pressing into the sides of the tankard, his cheek shining with a line of tears. Eld had a comforting hand on Gunther's shoulder, but his eyes were glued to the stage and bright with emotion.

Nifa and Nanaba were stood by them, arms round one another, swaying, and Hange was leaning forward across a table, bewitched.

Moblit joined in with Petra, singing a soft harmony;

"God loves a trier,

But I'm a terrible liar,

So I'm certain that you know,

Whatever you desire,

I'll be your shadow,

And walk through the fire,

I'll get you where you need to go…"

The rest of the band brought their instruments in gently, and the song lifted a little.

Levi didn't know how long he'd been staring at her face, trying to read every minuscule movement in her expression so that he could commit it to memory. A shiver poured through him, a waterfall of stars on his nerves. She'd managed to light a fire in an ice cave. Or was it more like…she'd kicked open a door to something that had been lying quite dormant within him; a gentleness that hid at his core, from his childhood, that he'd taught himself to relentlessly bury.

Now this child was staring out through his eyes. The child who just wanted love and light and tenderness looked out and and saw it all together in one person.

"Quite a talent." He heard Erwin mutter.

"…why would someone like that…join the scouts?" He breathed, then caught himself; instantly on a knife's edge, worried he'd said too much.

He slammed the door and locked the child away, necking his whiskey.

"The same reason any of us do." Erwin's voice was gentle, thoughtful, "We're dreamers. We want something better for our fellow man, whatever the cost."

—

Petra's ball of nerves had become a bubbling brook of excitement as she flitted from table to table, turning down the multiple offers for drinks. Eld chewed her ear off for a while for not telling him about the band and Gunther struggled to hold his composure, small tears of pride forming in the corners of his eyes, though he said nothing.

"It's weird." Eld said frowning, "I don't know why but…" He scratched his head, "I kinda wish Oruo had been here for that."

Gunther nodded, mirroring Eld's concern, "I know what you mean."

"Yeah…" Petra smiled sadly, "I wouldn't go so far to say I miss him but…"

They all stared at the floor.

Petra chewed her lip, "Next year…right?"

Eld smiled, "Next year."

"Um…" She began, "Have any of you seen the Captain?"

Was he here? Had he watched the band play?

Gunther nodded, "He just left."

Petra blinked, eyes wide and shining all of a sudden, "Oh! I have something I need to-"

She pushed through the warm bodies, only one thought in her head: reach the door.

"Get out of my way!" She huffed, shoving sloshed citizens from her path until she stumbled, breathless out onto the frosty street.

"Captain!" She yelled up the road where he was walking off into the night, hands in pockets.

Bright moonlight was bouncing in blue-white off of the remaining patches of half-melted snow. He stalled, then after a moment, turned around and looked at her.

Wispy clouds drifted across the sky, and air misted from her mouth as she ran a little towards him, the pattering of her footsteps the only sound, and she came to stop a few metres away.

Once again they were engulfed in stillness and quiet, which was only intermittently disturbed by her short, light breaths.

His hard eyes glowed like icicles.

"I have - something to show you sir." She panted.

He blinked, but said nothing.

"Look." From the inside pocket of her coat she brought out a small grey stick she'd purchased from a stall by the end of the parade route, and held it out towards him.

He didn't move, his hands stayed firmly in his pockets and he remained silent.

…

"It's a sparkler." She said with a smile, "I'll…"

Realising he wasn't going to take it, she put the stick in her mouth, and brought a box of matches from her pocket. She struck one, then returned the box to her pocket and removed the stick from her mouth with her free hand. If she weren't so excited, she might've been embarrassed by the rather awkward and cumbersome display.

"Watch." She smiled, touching the flame to the stick, which burst into life, hissing and spitting the brightest light in sparks which sizzled, some bouncing off onto the street.

He continued staring at her, at the sparkling light she held crackling and fizzing in her hand. After a moment, his eyes dropped to the floor.

"So now you can ask the Commander-"

He turned around and walked away up the cold street.

Petra felt shards of her heart pierce her as it shattered.

She stood, lonely on the path and watched the remainder of the light burn out.

Chapter 26: Your Type

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

If he'd doubted it before, he didn't any longer.

Levi meandered the streets, taking an impressively long detour back to the inn.

The sheer brilliance of the yellow-white light had made it hard to make out her features behind it, but he knew she was beaming. She beamed at him as though he was the dazzling, sparkling light that she held in her hand, as though, for that moment he was the only thing in the world keeping it lit.

She was an idiot.

He didn't know what he'd done to convince her that he was in any way worth her attention in that way. He was a dank pit; a pail of scummy water that, given half the chance would extinguish that light. That was all he ever did, smother things in darkness.

His chest was tight, and his heart thrummed with a low, sad ache.

How could this possibly work? Should he get her transferred to another squad?

"Tch."

No. The hell kind of a reason could he give to Erwin?

"I fell for a doe-eyed ginger idiot who won't stop smiling at me?"

…

"Yeah, you know, the one I insisted I needed on my squad."

…

"That's right. Remember? When I didn't even bother trialing any other son of a bitch because I was so goddamn desperate for it to be her? Because I was so fucking blind to my own-"

He needed another whiskey.

Perhaps he could go the other way, pretend that they weren't gelling at all. Boot her off coldly, without a thought. Maybe then she'd hate him forever. Maybe that was better.

No - like hell would that work. The squad would never let that happen in a thousand years. No-way he could salvage them after taking her away now, it'd be like taking the hands off a damn clock and putting it back up on the wall…just a big, useless, numbered circle…he'd have to find a whole new squad, and this was the survey corps, they weren't exactly made of soldiers. On average each month thirty-percent of them died horribly.

…then…what?

…talk to her about it? Get over it? Continue on as they were, pushing it away, deliberately ignoring it?

Shit. He was losing his mind over a damn girl.

"Shut up Furlan!" Isabel growled and stood from the table, her fists were clenched, and her rage had once again gone from nought to a hundred in under a second, "I do not!"

"Oh yeah?" The sandy haired man retorted with a smirk, brandishing the knife he was using to peel a potato, "Then why have your ears gone all red?"

Her hands immediately shot to her ears, "Liar!" She thundered, her bright green eyes twitching, and it was fifty-fifty at this point whether she'd scarper off to her room and slam the door, or take him on like an angry ram.

She stamped her foot, "Big bro - tell him!"

Angry ram it was then.

"Tell him what?" Levi's bored voice rumbled as he flipped through the paper.

"I don't have a crush on Yan!"

He glanced at her, then back to the paper.

"Aha! See - even Levi knows it's true." Furlan gibed.

"Don't mistake silence for interest."

Isabel growled, "For your information-" She stopped, clearly having a rapid internal debate, her fists trembling at her sides, "…I like girls."

Furlan blinked, "Oh. That makes sense, Yan does have quite feminine features."

"Fuck you!" She howled, tearing out the door.

Furlan smirked, "What a fun family we make. Truly, a perfect scene."

Levi didn't look up, "Heartwarming."

"Interesting though…" Furlan picked up another potato, "Did you know that about her - that she was into girls?"

"She could be into rocks and I wouldn't give a shit."

Furlan scoffed, "Yeah right. She starts bringing a bunch of rocks into this apartment and you're telling me you wouldn't have an aneurysm?"

"A-what?"

"Never mind." Furlan smiled.

The knife thwacked against the chopping board as he cut the potato into cubes.

"If she did start bringing back girls…would you have a problem with that?"

"Would you?" Levi grumbled.

"No. But it's very like you to answer a question with another question."

"I wouldn't have a problem…if the girls mind their own business and clean up after themselves."

"Ah yes, of course. To be honest it'd be nice to have more hands on deck for that anyway. Then maybe we should encourage her."

Levi flipped another page of his paper. Furlan used the side of the knife to scrape the potato cubes into a pot of boiling water. He turned back and leant on the counter, watching Levi reading on the couch.

"That's your type then I take it? A clean girl?"

Cool grey eyes flicked up over the top of the paper and held Furlan's. The stare-off lasted a while, and Furlan quirked a brow, unsure if he'd get a response, but holding out some hope.

"I don't have a type."

The eyes disappeared again behind the black and white print.

"Really? No type at all?"

"Hm." Came the low voice, "I'm fond of whatever type they use on these newspapers."

"Hah." Furlan hit the wooden spoon into his hand with a smile, "This is quite corny, but…I'm a firm believer that there's someone for everyone, maybe even more than one person."

"A touching story."

"So you'd be ok dying alone, with no-one to love you?"

"You'd be ok sharing your bed with some disgusting degenerate for half your life, wiping their ass if you both live long enough?"

"It's strange, I could have sworn that was another question."

Levi put the paper down and eyed him.

"…but I must be mistaken." Furlan smiled a little.

"Crossword's on page four." Levi mumbled.

Levi'd be ok with dying alone. He'd always been a hundred percent sure that that was what was going to happen, and he'd made his peace with it. But it was so torturous to be shown a damn mirage where he didn't; where each night he fell asleep beside an angel and each morning she smiled at him, her peachy cheeks glowing, her stupid auburn eyelashes fluttering through the sun's golden rays.

'A clean girl.' Well Furlan. Turns out you were right. But she was more than that.

He closed the door to his room at the inn and sighed. He was being ridiculous. On the list of the worst things that had ever happened to him, this little complication wouldn't even chart. It wouldn't come close. He supposed that actually, in some strange way…he'd have put it on the opposite list…

It was nice to see her every day, it made his work easier and brighter, and selfishly, he knew he was going to keep her on the squad. It was the simplest solution when weighed up against a potential future six months of finding and training a whole new squad and making sure they were a good team. Plus it wasn't fair to demote the other three members just because he'd recently decided to 'feel' things or whatever.

He could control himself around her - he wasn't some knuckle-dragging cave-maniac. And Petra…her interest in him was bound to fade away. She didn't know him at all, only fallen prey to his title and reputation - drawn in to an inane fantasy, a childish fairytale, and people eventually grew out of such petty daydreams. If she knew him, elite titan-slayer or not, she'd run for the hills.

Besides, he'd had enough heartbreak in his life, he wasn't about to volunteer for more. He'd walked away from her already, he just had to make sure that he kept walking.

He sniffed. If she had a problem with being on his squad, she could bring it up with him herself.

Eld didn't know why Petra had tears in her eyes when she walked back through the tavern door, and he didn't ask. He simply appeared before her and gave her a quiet hug, her eyes shut and her balled up fists scrunching into his white shirt.

"Hey." He said lowly, almost in a whisper, "What did the bartender say when a ghost walked into her bar?"

Petra sniffled, "Good lord Eld."

He nudged her, "Nope. She said, 'Sorry, but we don't serve spirits.'"

He raised his brows and watched as she tried to fight the smile that teased its way across her mouth. She pursed her lips, her eyes flicked to him and she batted him on the chest with her hands, suppressing a giggle.

"Wow." She said, "That was so…"

"Hilarious? Charming?…spooktacular?"

She shook her head, wiping away a single stray tear, "A ghost wouldn't walk into a bar anyway - surely it'd float through the walls? Ghost's can't 'walk into' things…that's like a famous thing about them."

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you questioning the credibility of the joke?"

She laughed and hugged him again, this time with a renewed ease and energy, "I think I need some rum."

"That's the spirit." He said patting her back.

She snorted.

Week Seven - Sunday

Another hangover.

The afternoon's glacial breeze gnawed at Petra's knuckles, cheeks and ears as she plodded on her laden horse towards her hometown. She'd have to have a three week detox for sure.

Darn Eld and his persuasiveness:

"Come on you guys - one more round - it's the last night we'll see each other in ages!"

Even Gunther was glowing with the warmth of a billion units of alcohol by the time they stumbled back to the inn, and that took some going. The evening had turned out to be far more emotional for every one of them than they'd anticipated. A tiny smile twinkled on her lips. She already missed them. Oruo too.

She blinked, taking in the gentle thud of the mare's hooves on the track, the light quaver of her own breath on the air. It didn't take long for her thoughts to return to…

A glum acceptance fell over her, phantom-like in its embrace of her bones.

She'd gotten too close, too comfortable. She'd allowed hope to spark in her chest; she'd lit the match, and now she held its charred remains.

Up ahead along the beaten path, the translucent figure of Captain Levi walked, the embroidered green wings on the back of his light-blue jacket shifting ever so slightly with his movement.

He'd never turn around, but that didn't matter. She'd follow him wherever he decided to go, whatever he wanted to do. She didn't need a 'special' relationship with him.

Watching those wings was enough.

Brown Boots

slowdog

Summary:

Since recruiting Petra Ral, Captain Levi's Special Operations Squad have really been hitting their stride. They're faster, tighter, more connected to each other than ever before, and Levi sometimes wonders if he'll ever get a minute's peace...

Notes:

Hello!

welcome to the second instalment of whatever this is...if you haven't read 'Green Wings' - pt 1 of the series - I'd recommend doing that first just because i'm not sure if i've succeeded in making it make sense without it (i did try haha) but i think the context might make this a better read.

i hope u enjoy it, though i feel i should mention that the focus is once again on all the members of the orig special ops squad and what their day to day (or month to month i suppose) shenanigans/ lives in general might have been like.. ^^

finaaally i'm hoping to continue updating on sundays as much as possible - but it might be every other week for a while until life chills out again.. these chapters have to be a bit more self contained than before, so is taking longer to edit and make them make sense!

cheers!

Chapter 1: Flora & Fauna

Chapter Text

January

"Remind me why I agreed to this again?" Eld huffed.

"Because it's fun, and you're having a good time." Petra said through gritted teeth.

"But he's such an ass."

Eld scowled at Oruo, who was riding a donkey some metres away, wearing a sash that said 'birthday boy' and hurling a lasso around. Lina was doubled over giggling while Gunther was trying to get Oruo to stop riding the poor creature, and narrowly evading getting caught in the lasso.

"It's meant to be a joint birthday party." He added and Petra looked at him a little guiltily.

"I really didn't think he'd take it this far." She muttered, wringing her hands.

The idea was a shared party as both Oruo and Eld's birthday's were fairly near each other, plus nobody had been back from their winter break in time for Oruo's actual birthday, and the guilt had gotten the better of Eld. They'd agreed to each pick one activity for the day; Eld of course had picked the normal birthday activity of drinking and dancing at a bar in the town (they were headed there in the evening), but Oruo…

…they were at the town petting zoo (it was just the local farm) - the only 'attraction' still open in winter-time, and were wandering around a large barn, looking at the various farm animals as they shivered in their pens. Eld's fiancé Harriet wasn't able to make it down, the first of many disappointments it turned out…but several of the veterans had made it along: Moblit, Nifa and Nanaba were hanging around an enclosure containing a few llamas, and Hange was pointing at a pig and chattering animatedly next to a disgruntled Mike, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"What's wrong Eld, not enjoying your big day?"

The Captain appeared behind the pair of them, his voice low and bored as always.

He'd said nothing at all when the squad'd invited him at dinner a week ago - but then, this morning, he asked what time they were leaving and they almost had a collective heart attack. It was an even bigger surprise that he said he'd go with them after finding out that their first activity would be at a farm. Of course, he was refusing to go anywhere near most of the livestock, and had stuck rigidly to the 'paths', avoiding every instance of straw and mud where possible, wrinkling his nose in disdain. Eld really wasn't sure why he'd come along at all, but he supposed it was nice that the Captain was celebrating the squad's birthdays in some way.

"Oh - Captain!" Petra smiled warmly, "I think Eld's just sad that he doesn't have a birthday sash like Oruo's, but Lina made that one from scratch apparently so-"

"What? No - what? I'm not sad that I don't have a sash." Eld scowled, "I'm pissed because Oruo's birthday was three whole weeks ago and he's galavanting around as if it's all about him."

"If you want I can try and find a bit of old rope and-"

"Petra! I don't want a sash!"

She pouted, and Eld's expression softened.

He sighed, "Sorry for snapping. I just-"

She stopped him with a hand on his arm and, eyebrows raised, gestured with her head behind them, to where the Captain had walked off and was engaged in some kind of staring contest with a huge brown bull. They both smiled;

"I bet you the bull blinks first." Petra said lowly,

"Ooh…" He whispered back, "How much?"

A heavy lasso thudded at their feet.

"Guys." Gunther was panting and doubled over, "You gotta hide this. He's terrorising the livestock."

—

The bulls eyes were like black glass.

"Never had you pegged as an animal lover." Mike grumbled.

Levi hadn't even noticed him appear.

"Hm." He replied.

Mike sniffed, "Hm."

Animals were filthy, but they had as much right to be here as people, and usually Levi found they were more reliable. They didn't scheme and manipulate. He preferred the company of his horse to most people. Screw that - all people.

"INCOMING!"

"OH SWEET MARIA!"

…huh?

The incidents that followed occurred rapidly - at such a speed in fact that even Levi had trouble fully making sense of them. And Levi was a man who knew speed.

He glanced to the left, where an unbridled, unmanned donkey was suddenly hurtling towards him, braying manically. He just about managed to take a step back, and his hair whipped his face as the donkey raced between him and the bull, at which point he realised it was being chased by the entirety of his moronic squad, who were sweating and yelling a variety of insults at one another and the beast. Not seconds later came the unintelligible angry shouts of the farmer, and, sensing something further was amiss, Levi jumped forward and span around a hundred and eighty degrees, flattening his back against the side of the bull's pen just in time to avoid an entire flock of bleating sheep as they followed the galloping donkey and his chaotic squad out of the barn and into the icy fields beyond.

At some point during the mess of events the remaining veterans had run outside to assist in any way they could, leaving Levi completely alone in the barn with the remaining livestock.

…

"Tch."

He took a single step forward from the pen, scowling and dusting off his long woollen military jacket.

He paused, then side-eyed the bull.

"Regular Sunday for you then?" He deadpanned.

The bull grunted, and its hot breath condensed on the cool air.

"Hm."

—

How embarrassing. Didn't farms have trained dogs to do this?

It had been a solid twenty minutes and Petra was completely red in the face. She, along with the veterans and the farmer were desperately trying to herd the escaped sheep into an outdoor pen, but their attempts were proving fruitless: the sheep were darting between them and splitting up at every given opportunity.

"Blaargh!"

Ah, the distant sound of Oruo's bitten tongue. She sighed.

A sheep bleated at Nifa, who shouted back at it almost hysterically; "They're laughing at us!"

Petra was certain that the scouts could never come back here again, this little mishap surely meant a lifetime ban.

"Where's the ass?" Eld shouted over.

Petra pointed in Oruo's direction and Eld howled with laugher, "My bad - I meant, where's the donkey?"

She shook her head. Only the goddesses knew where that donkey had gotten to at this point.

A sheep darted passed her, chased by an alarmed Moblit, who gave up running and stopped next to her, breathless;

"It's funny," He muttered, "We humans think we're so smart, but all us trained soldiers in peak physical condition can't even herd twenty sheep."

Petra laughed awkwardly, wiping her brow, "Yeah. It feels wrong to say this but, killing titans might be easier."

"AHHH!" Gunther bellowed a war cry and tackled a sheep as it tried to run past him, but ended up clutching onto its wool, panicked, as it dragged him along the grass.

"Let go!" She cried out, "Gunther - let go!"

—

Surely it'd been long enough now. The intermittent shrieking had significantly died down, which was a good sign. Levi took a slow breath, then traipsed outside, hands in pockets.

He was just in time to catch Eld (who was now somehow wearing the 'birthday boy' sash) ride in on a horse and catch the rogue, roaming donkey with a lasso, to ecstatic cheers and claps from the surrounding veterans. Levi almost rolled his eyes at the bombastic display and briefly considered insulting the man's shitty beard to take him down a peg or two.

The sheep were huddled in a pen behind two small barking dogs, Lina was shouting expletives at Oruo, and Mike and Nanaba were trying to placate the irate farmer off to one side.

He exhaled wearily. He knew he shouldn't have come, but the excursion had piqued his interest…

That was an 'acceptable' way of putting it.

It wasn't that he'd simply noticed Petra's ankle length moss-green skirt under her long military jacket of the same colour, and realised that (bar the heavy duty farm-appropriate walking boots) the squad were all going to town in their Sunday best. It couldn't simply have been that he'd never seen her in a dress before, and a curious part of him wanted to know what she looked like in one - enough to drag him all the way out to a damn farm - even though he knew it was a selfish want, and would ultimately be detrimental to his attempts to suppress his inappropriate feelings towards her.

…

Anyway, this was unquestionably a more interesting day out than what he'd had planned, which was…surveying the perimeter of the grounds...again.

Since the return from the winter break Petra was bright, warm and gentle as she had ever been; she continued to check up on him, making sure that he was properly eating and resting - but - she'd stopped assisting him in the evenings with his paperwork. That was an interesting development that had, as with many other things, gone unspoken between them. Now she bothered him as minimally as she could whilst still remaining attentive, and she was strictly professional in their every interaction. The casual sparkle he'd often caught in her eyes was gone, replaced with the sharp focus of the battlefield, or the politeness of an arms-distance.

He should have been thrilled, it was, after all, what he wanted. Broadly speaking he was thrilled with it. Her misguided affection for him had appeared to vanish, and he found he could believe that her diligence sprouted from her trustworthy, tireless temperament, and not because she wanted to impress him for any unprofessional reason. She was smart, and so it hadn't taken her long to realise the folly of her ways - to leave her childish fantasy behind her like some shattered snow-globe.

As for him…

It was only natural that the tiny, insane part of him that felt for her would protest the change. Having no prior experience with 'matters of the heart' as Erwin might say, it was to be expected that on occasion, he might slip-up and indulge his insanity…which was how he'd ended up at a petting zoo on his one day off this week.

He bit back a sigh, and chose to instead fill his lungs with the clean, fresh winter air.

"Hange…?" Petra asked tentatively.

She'd caught up to them as the group walked through the town towards a bar Eld had selected.

"Oh Petra! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Petra blinked, catching sight of the smallish wooden box they held clutched in their hands. It had six small holes drilled in the lid, and she was certain she hadn't seen them carrying it earlier on in the day.

"Um…what's in the box?"

"I'm glad you asked." They said with a grin, "Frogs!"

"What?!"

"Yes! You see I found a few of them in the mud heaps and an old log by the brook outside. Did you know that a group of frogs is called an army? I wondered why that is. I'm thinking there has to be something about frogs that makes a good army, and maybe if I study them I can find out."

"Right…that sounds…don't frogs hibernate in winter? Did you wake them-"

"Did you have something else you wanted to ask?"

Petra coughed and wrung her hands, her eyes flicked to the back of the Captain's long green military coat as he walked up ahead, the emblazoned scouts emblem shifting ever so slightly with his movement.

"I've just been curious for a while now…"

Hange's eyes sparkled, "I've always known you possess a curious mind."

She smiled weakly, "It's not a big deal or anything but…I was wondering if you ever met someone called Isabel?"

Hange stopped in their tracks. Petra followed suit.

They pushed their glasses up their nose, "Ah."

Petra's eyes brightened, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes." Hange replied, though their brow was twitching, "Isabel and Furlan were from the underground city. They joined the scouts along with Levi - the three of them were inseparable."

Were.

That could only mean one thing.

"Oh." Petra whispered, looking at her feet.

"Why do you ask?"

The pair began slowly walking again.

"The Captain gave me something of hers is all - an old bottle of remedy, I just thought…maybe…"

Hange smiled, "Levi has always been very private about his past. That said, if there's something you want to ask him, you should. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to oblige you." They looked at her with some intensity.

"Oh…" Petra's face was heating up, "No, that's ok. I shouldn't be prying at all…it's private. I guess I was just wondering if I should return it to him, if Isabel was someone special then…maybe he'd want the bottle back."

"Hmmm…" They frowned, "I've never heard of him giving anyone anything before except a black eye, so I'd assume that if he gave you something, then he's ok with you having it."

Petra's reply was unconfident,

"…yeah. I hope so."

Hange scratched their head with their frog-free hand, "Most of us scouts have had to deal with significant losses - personal and otherwise - it's the nature of the job. But Levi…" They looked a little wistful.

"Huh?"

Petra stared at them with wide-eyed fascination as thousands of micro-considerations flitted through the scientist's eyes.

"…it can't be easy, being the only one." They said eventually.

"What do you mean?"

"Well." They began seriously, and Petra got the sense that this wasn't the first time they'd thought about it;

"He's spent the majority of his life living somewhere else with a different culture and upbringing, a place where a person never gets to see even the most basic elements of nature; trees and flowers…titans…

Imagine then discovering those things for the first time, your world would be turned upside down. It's hard to fathom the shock that would bring about in someone. On top of that, you have the fact that, though we look the same and speak the same language, our lives - the lives of everyone he knows I mean - have been remarkably different; we're completely used to these things; flora, fauna; none of them are an anomaly. We assume they will always be there, because we've been surrounded by them from birth.

Say then, that the only two people in your life who understand that life-altering change - who understand what it is to learn a whole new world as an adult, and who understand where you've come from and what you've been through…vanish in the blink of an eye…"

It felt like knives were stabbing into Petra's sides whenever she took a breath. She'd never even considered any of this. She was in awe of him, and simultaneously she felt entirely selfish for not having given it this kind of thought before.

"…it's more than any of us will ever be able to comprehend." They uttered.

Petra opened and closed her mouth sadly. She stared at the back of his coat as he walked ahead, her heart heavy.

"I never…even thought of that. Any of it." She muttered eventually.

"Why would you?" Hange looked at her with a little concern, "It's not as though he's an open book." They smiled a little, "Don't worry yourself my dear. He can handle himself. He's not known as 'Humanity's Strongest' for nothing."

Petra returned the faint smile, "True."

"I never thought they'd take 'mad as a box of frogs' literally." Eld said, clinking his tankard with the squad, "That's a new one."

"Moblit's out in the street searching for them right now." Oruo drawled.

"The frogs?" Gunther asked.

"Mm." Oruo's lifted his tankard to his lips, "Frogs aren't allowed in an establishment such as this."

"Why not?" Gunther pressed, brow quirked.

"Too jumpy." Eld replied.

Oruo smirked, "If that were the reason then Petra wouldn't be allowed in here either."

"Hey!" She scowled at him, then, with a shake of her head,

"…what I don't understand is - how did the frogs get out of the box in the first place?"

Eld caught her eye, "The question of the moment."

"A guy at the door hit the box out of the Section Commander's hand, I saw the whole thing transpire." Oruo guzzled his beer, then lazily waved his hand, "Frogs everywhere."

"No!" Petra gasped, "That's so cruel!"

"Pfft. They deserve it, what in the hell did they think they were doing carting frogs around anyhow."

"It's because a group of frogs is called-" Petra began, "Oh, never mind."

"Oruo." Gunther started, "You might want to go and save your girlfriend, I don't know what the Captain is saying to her, but she looks terrified."

"Eh." Oruo shrugged flippantly, before doing a double take towards the bar, "Shit!"

He immediately stood, a kind of fearful scowl plastered across his face and marched off.

Eld looked after him, "Good news about his sister though eh?"

"Yeah." Petra gave a warm smile, watching Oruo bluster and stumble around his words while the Captain looked on, blank and immovable. The nerve that jackass had to say she was jumpy. "It's really good. They think she'll make a full recovery by spring."

Gunther smiled, "It was nice of the Captain to let him go back and visit before the break. I'm sure it helped Olga to see her big brother."

"I guess if the Garrison were offering to pay two weeks of his wages…" Eld shrugged, "What about James? You convince him to apply to the compound office?"

Gunther looked a little disgruntled, "He says he'll think about it."

"Really?" Petra's voice was laced with concern, "I have to say…I thought he'd be more enthusiastic."

"I get it." Gunther scratched his nose, "I mean, why apply to be surrounded by your former comrades, seeing the life you had before."

"Right." Eld muttered, "Yeah, makes sense."

"He thinks he'd prefer to check out the library in town, see if they have any positions open. That way he's still near enough to the base that I can see him regularly."

"That's a nice idea." Petra pat his arm encouragingly, "Sounds like a good compromise to me."

"I'm not against it." The dark haired man replied.

Wind blasted through the tavern as Moblit ran through the door, panting, his hands on his knees;

"…fr…frogs…" he croaked, pale and sweaty.

"Oh dear." Eld smirked, "He doesn't look very…hoppy."

Petra guffawed, "Toad-ally."

They high-fived. Gunther groaned.

—

"You're an asshole!"

"I already told you, the sheep thing had nothing to do with me!"

Oruo and Lina were in the middle of what was likely their fifty-ninth argument of the day.

"You could've lost that poor farmer half of his livestock-"

"Honestly Lina, I seem to remember you finding it all hilarious at the time! You change on a dime-"

Levi made the conscious decision to tune them out when the pair of them started bickering, which was almost as soon as Oruo appeared. He leant with his side pressing into the wooden bar and glanced across to the corner table where the rest of the squad were sat.

The day had been nothing short of chaotic, but, that familiar feeling of calm washed over him as he allowed himself a moment to take in the picture of Petra.

She was laughing in her full green skirt, white off-the-shoulder blouse and strappy black under-bust corset which was laced with red ribbon, and attractively accentuated all of her curves. His heart beat strongly and evenly as he studied her form; her waist which dipped in and out; her bosom somewhat pushed up, moving steadily with her breaths and chatter; her cheerful eyes, that comforting colour of golden-honey, bright and sparkling with a winter-day's freshness.

It was a far cry from her usual military attire. He'd never seen her look so feminine, dainty even. It brought him some amusement to imagine someone describing her as 'dainty' to her face; he knew if that were to happen she'd waste no time in knocking them out.

His eyes flicked away, and he momentarily wondered if he'd been staring for too long, but the tipsy, giddy atmosphere of the bar seemed to have everyone distracted, and it wasn't long before he found himself once again glancing over to the corner table.

She was undeniably beautiful; a cloud in the vast open sky beyond the wall, soft and far away. He wasn't a man who indulged himself often (or ever, except for the odd fancy cup of tea), but he reasoned that it wasn't hurting anyone if on occasion…if for today he let himself admire her delicate movements from the green fields of earth.

Sometimes all you could do was be a spectator to greater things, and Petra Ral, through her boundless generosity, fighting spirit, and concern for the wellbeing of every living thing, seemed to embody everything that made humanity worth saving.

Just as the slow, roaming clouds informed of an entire world beyond the walls, now and then when he gazed at her, he could almost see a life beyond the scouts. That was a thought he did not hesitate in extinguishing shortly after it arrived, all the while knowing that it would persist…it always seemed to return in some small way. And Levi was all too aware that that kind of hope, when given attention, was dangerous.

He knew better. Levi was too burdened with the responsibility of his own strength to take that kind of fantasy seriously.

Yeah, the day as a whole had been a lawless, irritating nuisance but…

…he didn't regret it.

Chapter 2: Sweetheart's Day

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

February

The squad were being pushed to their limits.

Eld had never seen Captain Levi during a 'Sweetheart's day' before, and he could've predicted that the man hated it. Still, it seemed a little unfair that the Captain's cold, dead heart was inflicting such pain on them just because the sight of any kind of joy or affection pissed him off.

It'd all began in the morning at coffee when Eld'd checked at the door to the Special Op's quarters and there, having been slid under it and decorating the floorboards were three love notes, all with different handwriting, and all addressed to Petra.

The squad had all laughed about it as they sat about the table, but the Captain remained blank, staring into his cup and didn't even look up. Even at that point in the day there had been an aura of quiet ire emanating from him…an aura which only intensified when Gunther asked if any of these three letters were from Hange.

"Hange?" His sharp voice cut suddenly through their chatter, and the four team members instantly hushed themselves.

"Uh - yes sir." Petra tentatively replied, "They were the one who sent me those poems last year…"

The Captain didn't reply or look up, but on closer inspection his expression soured a touch.

Petra blinked, looking to the guys for support, "But um - none of these are…I mean this one's from Jules - it's a kind of joke thing we used to do. And this one's from someone called Hubert…and I've never even met a Hubert so-"

"Who Bert?" Eld interjected, "I know that guy - he was on my first squad. You'd like him, he's gangly."

"Gangly? What makes you think I'd like-"

The Captain's hands slammed down onto the table as he stood up;

"Do you morons think we have all day to sit around chattering like a flock of damn gulls?"

"No sir!" They'd chorused.

And so now the whole squad were sweating, blasting through the trees at record pace on their third time down ODM run three, and Eld wasn't convinced that the Captain would let them go to lunch at all.

"Who was the third letter from?" He asked Petra somewhat quietly after they jointly dispatched a dummy, when he was certain their dour boss was far enough up ahead.

"A cadet who's been coming to band - his name's Jean. He wants me to teach him guitar." She half-whispered.

"Ah," Eld quirked a brow, "Do you think he was captivated by your g-string?"

Petra almost misfired a hook in an attempt to suppress a laugh, only saving herself from plummeting at the last second.

"Come on now Petra, I know it's Sweetheart's Day, but you really shouldn't fall for someone so easily."

"Eld! Stop it!" She replied in a hushed fervour, but when the Captain glanced back at them her joyful expression instantly melted away into a fearful one, and she whimpered quietly.

Gunther appeared beside her and spoke lowly, "Both of you be quiet. I'd quite like the evening off, and at the rate we're going we'll be mopping the barracks until sun up."

"Yeah, we've all got plans." Oruo chimed in from the other side, face weary, and voice not quite matching the lowered tone of everyone else, "Don't arouse the beast."

Eld, despite his best efforts, found he just couldn't let that one slide;

"Arouse the beast?!" He whispered intensely.

Trees sped past them and he noticed Petra making the odd squeak as she tried to hold in her giggles. Gunther had a troubled expression.

"What?" Oruo returned, this time hushedly, "That's a common expression - I wouldn't expect you lowlifes to understand it; but it means don't agitate the beast-"

"I think you mean rouse. Don't rouse the beast." Petra just about managed to say it, and she couldn't catch Eld's eye at all.

"Or awaken." Gunther added soberly.

Oruo went pale, "B-but it's arouse suspicion? Isn't it?"

"I'm certainly suspicious of your literacy." Eld retorted and Oruo glowered, snorting and racing up ahead.

In a split-second he corkscrewed in from the front left side towards a practice dummy, and made mincemeat of it.

His three squad-mates stopped still in the trees with wide eyes. None of them could fault him his skill at least, when he put his mind to it, he really was a force to be reckoned with; plus, none of them had even noticed the dummy as it appeared through the trees…which meant that they definitely weren't as focused as they should have been…

"The hell was that."

The Captain glared at the line of them as they stood on the end platform.

"Are you a team?"

"Yes sir!" They chorused.

"What are you?"

"A team, sir!"

"Wrong. You're pathetic, pissy little babies. So, let me ask again, what are you?"

There was a pause, then a collective mumbling,

"…pathetic pissy little babies, sir."

"It was like watching a tray of wobbling flans attempt the course."

"A weak mess, sir." Eld said, brows twitching.

"So now you've got your head screwed on."

The Captain was stood in front of him, glaring at him with such intensity Eld was sure some of the blood froze in his veins. He held the frosty glower, wondering how someone so much shorter could make him feel so small when they were literally looking up at him. He felt a single bead of sweat form at his temple. After a few moments the Captain stepped back and surveyed the line again with a sneer.

"I really thought you'd be better by now." He said with a slow, venomous lilt, almost to himself. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply, "Anyone want to tell me what was so damn funny that you ballsed up the whole course?"

"Nothing sir…"

"Nothing sir."

"N-nothing sir-"

"Nothing Captain."

The chorus was completely out of time and much quieter than it had been previously.

Eld had to really fight to stop himself from saying, "Oruo said that he'd like to arouse you sir." But he valued his Sweetheart's Day evening plans with Harriet too much for that.

"Nothing huh? I'm a big fan of nothing. I've always found it funny."

The small frown line between the Captain's brows deepened.

"Fancy-ass name or not, this is a day of drills just like any other so pull yourselves together and act like Elite soldiers. Again." Blade in hand, he gestured through the trees to the start of the course, his voice almost reaching a shout, "And don't you dare screw it up."

"Do you ever get the feeling…that we're being watched?" Nifa's voice was wary and she scanned the lab with curious eyes for the umpteenth time since the lunch break had begun.

"Uh…no?" Moblit looked across to her, mindlessly adding much more liquid than intended from a large metal measuring cup into a test tube, which immediately began to fizz and bubble over onto his hand-

"Oh fiddlesticks!-"

He gasped, letting go of the measuring cup in his other hand, which clattered to the ground leaving a large wet puddle.

"Oh - oh darn it all!-"

In a distracted flap, he leant over intending to clear the spillage, and unthinkingly placed the bubbling, overflowing test tube down onto the worktop, which of course immediately fell over, spilling foaming liquid all over his pages of notes.

He froze, then slowly stood back up straight, glancing back to Nifa,

"Why me?" He bemoaned and she rubbed his back.

"You need more sleep." She said.

"I really hope someone wasn't watching that." He muttered, "And it's hard to get enough sleep when the Section Commander insists on testing the effects of moonlight on titan toenail clippings."

"There there." She muttered, only too aware of how trying the hours were for the research squad, "I think you should take the night off, I'm sure the Section Commander wouldn't mind this one time."

Moblit sighed, "Y-yeah." He said, almost unwillingly, "I don't think I'll be a good assistant this evening until I re-write all these notes anyway."

"Moblit? Nifa?" Abel poked his head around the door, "Would you mind helping unpack these boxes?"

The fourth time Petra washed the hallway floor on her hands and knees she was certain it was clean. Certain of it.

But when the dark figure of the Captain walked past her to grace the entryway, somehow still completely shadowed in spite of the wall torches, that certainty began to slip away.

"I'm almost done with the floor sir." She'd said, with the firm focused stare (she hoped) of someone doing her job diligently.

His nose raised in disdain,

"Are you?"

It was all he had to say. She gulped, then started up again, wiping an errant bead of sweat from her forehead.

His footsteps clacked against the floorboards as he exited, and the door whined as it shut behind him. Great. Now she had to oil the door hinge too.

"Is he gone?" Oruo's voice sounded tentatively from the doorway behind her. The lines were deeper in his face than usual (as they often were when the squad cleaned) and he was holding a wet butter knife as he'd been tasked with re-buffing all the cutlery.

"I think so." She sighed, and heard the collective over-dramatic groan of her squad-mates from the common room.

Each one of them was bad-tempered as time ticked ever closer towards their Sweetheart's Day evening plans. They decided to take a short break and found themselves collectively clattering around the kitchenette, making tea while each of their bedroom curtains were soaking in large tubs on the common room floor.

"He's punishing us for being happy." Oruo drawled leaning against the wall, flicking the butter knife, "What's a 'hospital corner' anyway?"

"He's lost his sanity to sanitation." Eld mused, wiping a teacup.

"The restaurant I want to go to will be full up by now. I'm sure of it." Gunther said glumly, removing the water from the boil.

The three of them looked to Petra, waiting expectantly for her to moan about something.

"Come on." She said sternly, crossing her arms, "Pull yourselves together, you're acting like children."

The three of them were a little taken aback, and Petra kept her wry amusement to herself. She'd grown to enjoy chastising them, because they never spoke back to her, and instead often took to mumbling something about how she was probably right.

"Ah yes…I remember now." Oruo caught her eye, a crooked smile began tugging at the corner of his lip, "Petra doesn't have any evening plans."

Jeez. Here we go.

She rolled her eyes, "Actually…I do."

"Oh yeah?" He took a step away from the wall, "And what would those be? Endlessly wailing into my pillow because I was the one that got away?"

Petra wasn't sure she could raise her eyebrows any further.

"Well, I'm sorry my dear, but you were too slow. If only you'd come clean to me before about your feelings then I may have considered-"

She barked a harsh laugh, "Good god Oruo, give it a rest. It wasn't funny the first time."

"Yeah man." Eld was unthinkingly spooning tea leaves into the pot, "That horse is dead, you can stop flogging it."

"Been dead for months." Gunther mumbled, his chin resting heavily in his hand.

"Whatever. At least I'm not going to die a spinster old maid." Oruo picked at his teeth with the knife.

"There's still time." Petra sassed, and heard Gunther's low, quiet chuckle.

Eld scratched his beard, checking on the tea, "Plans then eh? With who?"

"That's on a need to know basis my friend." She winked.

Eld raised his eyebrows.

"Pffft. Plans. Sure you do." Oruo crossed his arms.

Red wine glugged from the bottle into the glass. Erwin pushed it across his desk towards Levi, whose scowl deepened.

"We finished the whiskey over the winter break." The taller man explained.

The Captain sniffed and stared at the glass, while Erwin poured one for himself, before sitting and scanning through his evening paperwork.

A heavy silence hung between them. Levi had shown up wordlessly, and it seemed that that was how he planned on spending the rest of the night too.

"No plans this evening then?"

Erwin asked it breezily, all too aware of the provocative nature of the question, and careful not to look at Levi, lest the attention on the man further stoke his irritation.

A minute of silence passed before Erwin's curiosity got the better of him and he glanced up. The Captain was still yet to touch his drink and his blank expression remained steadfast as his eyes, unmoving, speared the wood of the desk.

Withholding a tut, Erwin picked up his pen and began annotating. His subtle game of nudging the Captain towards a certain ginger subordinate of his hadn't panned out in the way he'd envisioned. On occasion he'd reminded himself that the odds of success in that area were remarkably slim: Levi's personality was so rigidly consistent it was more or less a sure bet that he would simply never allow himself the pleasure of falling in love.

The Commander was pleased by that fact: Levi would never let himself be distracted from the ultimate goal of the survey corps, but, within that knowledge, and having noticed the minuscule changes in the man's expression around Petra, Erwin himself had taken the odd small opportunity to try and guide Levi to her during his recreation time. After all, there wasn't a person living who needed affection more than the Captain, and there wasn't a person who would give him that affection more freely than her.

Erwin'd watched her attempt to do so himself through a fogged up tavern window at the Trost Winter Parade; and felt a pang of sorrow when Levi'd mutely walked away, leaving her alone on the frozen street with a dying sparkler. Something about it reminded him of his own life, of a time when he too had walked away from someone who loved him.

Since then, Erwin had broadly stopped nudging. Romance was clearly something that Levi wasn't yet ready for.

"Is something bothering you Levi?"

No response. Like getting blood from a stone.

Erwin internally sighed and scored a line on the page with some force; torn between ordering the man out of his office if he wasn't going to do anything, and allowing him to sit there silently, as he was clearly struggling with something. There came a point though, where one had to be willing to help themselves, and if Levi refused to respond to any questions about his well-being, well then, he wasn't going to find any enlightening answers to his problems. The change had to come from within him, and this was a man who was so infamously stubborn that he'd once refused to remove his cravat during ODM training on the hottest day of the year, even though he was drenched in sweat and evidently very uncomfortable.

"Would you ask a bald man to remove his toupee?" He'd growled. Erwin struggled not to chuckle at the memory.

His thoughts were disturbed by the opposite wine glass as it was pulled along the desk and picked up, and he noticed Levi swirling the maroon liquid slowly, watching it glint in the candlelight.

"You might find it to be more to you taste than usual." Erwin ventured. "It's from a vineyard just outside of Yarckel district, it has a bolder flavour and more depth than most wines."

Levi inhaled deeply and eventually looked up, uttering quietly;

"Good to see you haven't locked yourself in the broom closet this year. Do you think you've lost your appeal?"

Erwin smiled. He usually took himself away from the grounds on 'Sweethearts Day' due to the attention he received. Levi was referring to a few years back, when Erwin'd been inundated with romantic propositions and hastily bolted himself into the broom cupboard on the office corridor in an attempt to escape from his various smitten admirers. Levi had come across him an hour or two later, decked out in his cleaning gear and glowering.

"I hope so. That isn't to say I'm not flattered, but it can be rather time-consuming." Erwin replied, "Though I still enlisted Mike to perform a smell-check of my mail this morning. One can never be too careful."

Levi blinked. "He find anything good?"

"Only the one pair of underwear this year." Erwin replied, and restarted his annotations.

"Sorry to hear it." Levi uttered dryly, "Ageing's a bitch."

"Indeed."

Moblit was breathless again as he pelted down the moonlit corridors towards the lab, stack of re-written research notes bundled in his arms. He wasn't going to leave the Section Commander alone to their experiment - last time that happened the research squad had only narrowly avoided a devastating fire. It wasn't a problem - he could sleep during tomorrow's lunch break.

Nearly there. The building was deserted - silent save his quickened breathing and the echoing of his clattering boots - that was until he heard a loud smash and a high pitched yelp, which sounded like it definitely came from the lab. Oh lordy.

He quickened his pace, fast approaching the lab's large wooden door, when said door slammed violently open in front of him to reveal Captain Levi, whose hard grey eyes barely flicked towards him before he swept off and away down the hall.

Moblit grit his teeth;

"S-section Commander?!" He called out, suddenly panicked and barrelled into the room, feverishly searching for them.

He didn't have to look hard. They were stood by the large lab windows, a scruffy navy silhouette with the moonlight behind them. They turned to face him, and he could just about make out their greasy piled up hair and dishevelled grin.

They looked…normal? Well, normal for them. Thank Maria.

"Ah Moblit! I'm so glad you could make it along this evening! You didn't cancel your Sweetheart's day plans for my little experiment did you?"

No. But he would have.

They continued to chatter, "I think I may have discovered something quite interesting about these clippings…"

He blinked several times, stunned, bringing himself back to the present.

"Are you alright? I heard a loud smash - then Captain Levi-"

They waved their hand nonchalantly, "Don't mind him, you know how he is - a perpetual grump. Could you come over here? I'd really like to know your thoughts on this."

Moblit's expression grew more troubled, "Are you sure everything's ok? It's just that…"

He glanced across the stone floor towards the several smashed beakers and tray which lay there, and hesitantly moved to place his bundle of rewritten notes back on the worktop,

"What happened here?"

They turned back to face him again, this time with a studious expression, as they held up a giant toenail with some tongs, and it took a moment for them to catch wind of what he was referring to.

"Oh!" Though it was dark, he could just about make out their embarrassed blush, "Well, I was moving those beakers away from the window so I had space to lay out these fascinating specimens, but I slipped on my way over there - the floor must have been a little wet or something."

Moblit paled. He'd forgotten to clear up his spillage from earlier. Surely it would have dried up by now…right? He shook the thought away, there were more pressing things to deal with;

"So you're saying that Captain Levi didn't have anything to do with that?"

"That? No, not at all - although I suppose I can see why you might think that." They cackled, "No, Levi was just giving me an earful about not distracting his squad. It was strange…but still-" They tapped their chin with their free hand, "It wouldn't be first time I've struggled to understand why he's yelling at me. If I were to hazard a guess it would be that he's peeved about Sweetheart's Day, and just needed someone to take it out on."

He could have been imagining it, but there seemed to be a small impish glint in the Section Commander's eye. As soon as it appeared however, it was gone.

"Oh. Yeah, right." Moblit scratched his head.

"At any rate, I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, and he stormed out - as you're aware. Now; much more importantly! Are you ready to begin experimenting?"

Moblit warily nodded and approached the worktop.

Hange held the giant clipping out towards him, its jagged, yellowing edges grossly illuminated by the moon,

"First things first, I'm going to need you to lick this titan toenail."

The next morning was bright with apricity, and the squad were pottering around the common room and kitchenette.

"Did you go to the restaurant you wanted in the end Gunther?" Petra asked, pouring out four cups of coffee.

He smiled, "No. But we ended up at a nice spot on the other side of town. If you like fish cakes I'd recommend it."

Oruo pulled his freshly filled cup towards himself across the counter. "I think I know the place."

"That's right, The Plaice." Gunther nodded, taking a sip.

Oruo blinked. The two men stared at one another silently, and Petra's eyes darted between them.

"…what?" Oruo said after a couple of minutes.

"It's called The Plaice…" Gunther responded, "I thought that's what you were saying, that you knew it."

"So, Petra," Eld interjected, collecting his cup, "How was your evening with Bert? Do you call him Bert now? Or maybe just Hugh?"

Her eyes went wide, "What?! How did you know?"

"That's on a need to know basis my friend." He winked.

She scowled on recognition of the gesture, and crossed her arms. After less than a second's silence, he gave in;

"Alright, he told me. Like I said, we were on our first squad together - that's a special type of connection."

Petra looked at the floor, unsure how honest she should be about her 'date', especially seeing as Eld and Bert shared the famous 'first-squad bond' - which apparently now meant: tell each other absolutely everything, and that means everything, even though you swore halfway through said 'date' that you wouldn't tell anyone, especially not anyone in your ginger partner's squad, not least because her squad were notorious for exploiting the tiniest little nugget of information for teasing one another and-

"It was…nice." She managed eventually.

That wasn't a lie, it was nice…as nice as something like that could be when you were silently batting away feelings for your superior officer…which was going about as successfully as a seamstress trying to make a dress out of milk. At the very most, it was a pleasant distraction which meant that she didn't have to spend her Sweetheart's Day evening alone.

"Up top." Eld held up his hand and she timidly high-fived him, "Bert said he had a great time. Maybe this could be the start of something new and beautiful. Can't wait to read your memoir: 'Vertically challenged love in the modern age'."

Gunther raised an eyebrow.

"Memoir?" Oruo guffawed, "I think you mean short story."

Eld almost choked on his coffee.

Petra's face had gone beet red and her fists balled up at her sides, "Hey - screw you both! He's not that much taller than me!"

"Oh really?" Eld teased, holding her eye-line, "Were you standing on a step-ladder for the duration of the date or…? He's nearly six feet- Agh!"

Petra had zipped across to Eld like an ember spat from a fireplace and begun pounding him in the arm as he struggled to keep his full cup of coffee from spilling;

"Gunther - a little help?" The blonde yelped as he ran around the common room table trying to escape the angry little fireball.

"Sorry pal, you're on your own."

Gunther and Oruo watched, smirking and intermittently sipping their coffee.

Notes:

Posting early this week because sunday is busy!

also Jean just really gives me 'guy at the party who cracks out the acoustic guitar' energy...so I referenced it hahaha

thanks for reading ^^

Chapter 3: The Library (mini chapter)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Gunther couldn't force away his grin as James spoke aloud from his chair in front of the library's roaring fireplace, thirty or so enraptured local children gazing up at him with sparkling eyes. He was reciting a folk story from memory with frightening ease and flair; his natural charm on full display for anyone paying attention.

The deep purplish-blue of dusk was peeking through the large long windows, and the event had an air of winter-time festivity; a warmth which only came from the knowledge of the frigid outdoors.

Beside Gunther, skirting the space in front of the tall dark-wood bookcases, on small dark-wood chairs, sat the children's parents, a few members of the storytelling club (that Gunther recognised from when they occasionally visited James in the hospital) and some interested locals who, up until the point the storytelling began, were lazily milling around browsing. Gunther had been forcefully ignoring the odd quirked brow when folk noticed his uniform.

"Hands chapped and muscles stinging, the corn harvesters puffed and heaved under the midday sun. As the light was at its brightest and the workers most-bustling, they heard a voice from the river declare:

"The hour but not the man has come.""

A gasp sounded from the enchanted audience.

"The river, who rushes with foam and thunder, shattering over broken rocks pulls all in her breath down into her glistening black depths. She eddies and sprays, and from her murky underworld arises…a horse."

Another gasp, and one of the smaller children who was already clutching at his mother's skirts, let out a wail. The woman gently hummed and patted the poor boy's head. Gunther's hand subconsciously travelled over his heart.

"It's mane stinking, sliming seaweed, its eyes darkest obsidian, its coat, mangy and ragged; it stands tall as the wicked depths lap at its bony legs. Once again it speaks:

"The hour but not the man has come."

The harvesters can but watch silently, agape as the kelpie rears, whinnying, before plunging into the watery abyss.

"Whence did it come?" They ask, "What could it mean?""

Gunther didn't realise how far forward he was leaning in his seat until he almost fell off it.

"Then, sure enough, from the top of the hill a man on a horse came spurring, headed directly for the swelling, spitting currents. The harvesters, now in no doubt of the kelpie's meaning, sprang up, screaming of the omen they'd witnessed, begging the man to change course, but he would none.

"Take another route!" They bellowed, "Wait out the hour of the kelpie!" ...but he would not acquiesce.

Resolved, they surrounded him, slowing his horse, and forcibly dragged him from it, agreeing they would lock him in the nearby church until the hour of the kelpie was passed."

Gunther tore his eyes away for a moment, noticing how the room had further filled as more civilians were drawn in and now stood at the edges of the space, faces aglow with the fire and eyes unblinking as they listened intently.

"And so the harvesters returned to their work until the fatal hour was passed. Once the damnèd time elapsed, they unbolted the church door, flew it open and cried,

"Traveller, you may on with your journey!"

But alas, he did not respond. Once again they urged, but were met with cold silence."

"No!" A girl in the audience exclaimed, and Gunther caught James force away a smile as he continued;

"Ah, but the power of the kelpie is ever-reaching. Into the stone belly of the church they journeyed, discovering only an empty room, except…"

He paused, eyeing the audience who were hanging onto every word,

"…there, oozing in the middle of the floor, a shining puddle of dirty black river water, and the drenched, weathered boots of the doomed rider."

The audience erupted in gasps and outcry and it took them several minutes to settle down. Meanwhile Gunther watched his charismatic lover and lightly shook his head in disbelief. To have such total command over a space, James could easily have risen up the ranks in the scouts and inspired hundreds of young cadets.

A warm smile lit up James's face when he caught his eye, and Gunther felt his heart skip a beat and his face flush. It was unbelievable to him that James could still get such a raw, teenage reaction from him when they'd been together for so many months.

"Thank you all for coming." James announced, holding Gunther's eye a split second longer before addressing the room, "Next week will be the legend of the Bogles."

The audience clapped politely before slowly getting themselves together and standing to go about their evenings.

Gunther made his way directly over to James, his cheeks hurting a little from smiling, but he didn't have the power to stop;

"The hour and the man has come." He uttered as he approached the wheelchair.

James cracked into a grin as Gunther leant down and pecked him on the cheek.

"You big nerd." James said softly.

Gunther chuckled and squeezed James's hand, the light of the fire danced in his eyes;

"You must know I'm your biggest fan." He said lowly. Sincerity poured from him; it was something Gunther never struggled with.

"I did catch you almost fall off your chair." James said teasingly, and Gunther pressed his lips together, marginally embarrassed.

"You saw that? Darn."

"Darn?" James smiled, "Petra's been rubbing off on you has she?"

"Mm." Gunther reflected James's smile, "Yeah. She's affected all of us more than I think we'd care to admit. Eld's even started picking snowdrops for the kitchen vase." His eyes flitted to the ground, "I did have a question about your performance this evening."

"Oh?"

Gunther scratched his neck with his free hand, "Don't you think that story was a little much for these kids? Some of them aren't even school age."

James bat his arm, "You are such a goody two-shoes. It's a cautionary tale about not swimming in the fast flowing river!"

"I just think that-"

"I may have just saved them from the perils of drowning." James scoffed.

Gunther chuckled, squeezing his hand once more, "Fair enough. Are you hungry? Do you wanna go to The Plaice?"

"What place? Oh, the Plaice. You know you should really be clearer when you talk about that." James smirked, "Why not? Two visits in two weeks? We're becoming regulars."

Gunther nodded, made his way behind James's chair and began wheeling him towards the exit.

James glanced over his shoulder, "Stay over at mine tonight?"

Gunther looked into his light blue eyes, considered his adorable dusting of freckles. This man was so hard to deny.

He sighed, "I can't. Drills are at six tomorrow. I'm already pushing it being out this late."

"See - goody two-shoes." James chortled as they exited the library into the early evening.

Notes:

James is telling a tale from scottish folklore known as 'The Doomed Rider' if you were wondering! i think the original is written in old scots - though i actually think the phrase 'the hour but not the man has come' in regards to an old water spirit is in old stories from all over the world, this one is just the version i know.

Chapter 4: 'That' Story

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

March

The titan's flabby arm smashed through the bell tower with an otherworldly clang and the rumbling of crumbling bricks.

Gunther's breath caught. That was very close, too close for comfort.

He twisted mid-air and fired his hooks across the beast's upper back, the metal of the left carving a straight, raggedy-edged gash through the pallid flesh which began to gush, his hooks then attaching into the decaying building opposite. It should hold for just about long enough.

His nostrils flared as he zipped past, retracting the hooks again as he reached the nape, and hacked through the meat of its neck with a hefty double strike. As the telltale steam began to rush, he pushed off the foul corpse with his boot, and brought himself to land on the shabby red roof tiles of what looked to be an old school.

Eld promptly appeared by his side, roughly wiping some blood from his cheek, though it was already vaporising into the crisp air.

"You misjudged that a bit." He said, scanning the rooftops.

"I know." Gunther muttered, "The bell tower obstructed me."

"Mm."

The sound of wires alerted the pair to their right, where the bobbing head of Petra approached, flipping herself between each energised fire of her hooks, tailed closely by Oruo. This was only her third expedition as part of the Special Ops Squad, but she was always acutely aware of the positions of the team at all times. Gunther noted that since she'd been working with them, it had felt as though an invisible red thread connected them all; as though for the first time they were becoming greater than the sum of their parts.

She landed decisively on their roof some feet away;

"Eastern side." She called out, and pointed with her blade to a crowd of three titans, hulking and blundering in the distance, unattended.

Following a quick scan Gunther noted that this appeared to be the last major threat in the area for the moment. The rest of the routes to the supply point were currently being defended, or were manned in wait. Plus the Captain was roving somewhat nearby, trusting his squad to be able to deal with threats more successfully than the other squads tasked with defence.

"Right." He and Eld affirmed together, as the squad jetted off towards the murderous cluster of bloated tissue.

The four of them flew at high speed, the fire of purpose gleaming in each of their eyes. These enormous son-of-bitches were no match for the hurricane of blades that was about to massacre them.

As they approached their ugly new company, Oruo called out;

"I'll take the gawky blonde. Not sure I trust any of you to manage it."

He smirked, propelling himself off to the right, towards the largest of the three titans. Gunther held back a sigh. He made a mental note to ask if they could have a squad meeting about reckless behaviour.

"Oruo wait!" Petra cried out and made to follow on, but was obstructed by Eld;

"Leave him - small fry, with me. Gunther take the one on the left."

Gunther nodded and sped away.

—

Rats. Once again Eld was morbidly amazed at the speed of the mammoth ogres. Even this five-metre one he and Petra were honing in on was deceptively quick. It also possessed a level of intelligence in that it would move slowly, and then surprise the pair of them with a jolting flick of a limb. Any other squad would struggle to dispatch it.

He scowled. Oruo and Petra's yelling had lost them the element of surprise here too, which meant that the rapid 'sneak-up-behind-and-cut-out-the-nape-before-the-titan-even-notices-you' tactic, that was widely known to be the road of least resistance, was no longer an option. What in the living hell was the point in training mutely if Oruo was just going to balls it up in the field where it mattered most?

He caught Petra's furiously concentrated gaze and quickly slapped a hand to his neck, before speeding directly towards the pasty titan's gaunt and pouting face.

"You're going down you pouty-ass motherfucker." He growled, whirling a blade around ready for its beady eye.

Immediately there was a squeezing pressure on his right leg and he winced. The asshole had whipped its hand up at the speed of light and managed to grab him, stopping him in his tracks. Strings of hideously glistening saliva stretched out between its slowly widening jaws and he recoiled a little. Didn't matter though. The giant moron.

Eld relaxed into a confident smile as, with a sharp tearing noise, a red-haired bullet accelerated past its nape, and the monster's dark grey eyes widened a little before the light withered out of them, almost as if it were surprised by the turn of events. Not bothering to wait for its grip to loosen, he chopped though its dumpy fingers and met her on a nearby roof.

—

Petra had been on the roof for less than a second before she whizzed off again in Gunther's direction.

Some way away she could just about made out the jostling figure of Oruo - but it was important that she didn't worry about that - she had to trust that Eld was on it.

With each manoeuvre they tackled together, she was impressed afresh with Eld's communication skills, not to mention his consistently cool head - even when Oruo gave away their position, or when he'd been unexpectedly yanked out of place by his leg just now he hadn't broken a sweat. Each day that passed made it increasingly clear to her why he was the Captain's second. An internal smiled warmed her…the Captain was truly an excellent judge of character.

The sky had begun to take on the soft pink-orange glow of golden hour, lending an eerie picturesque quality to their grim activity. Blood was beating in her ears as she searched for Gunther, who was nowhere to be seen around his allocated target. She wanted to race at it, dive into the street and fly past the nape, but without knowing where he was, that was difficult. What if she interfered with his plan? But equally, what if he was injured?

She stalled, brows twitching, breath ragged and eyes flitting around the scene like a hungry hawk. If someone or something moved, she'd spot it.

Nothing. Her heart rate sped up.

Run. She hurried along the roof behind the tiredly ambling beast, her eyes still darting around. It hadn't appeared to have noticed her yet.

Still nothing. Darn it. Her hair whipped about her face as she blasted herself around to its side, landing and running across the long roof there, blades primed. Steam was issuing from the titan's face - perhaps its eyes healing?

There - on an opposite building - a glint of wires through a hole in the roof. Gunther must have fallen through.

Sweet Maria - although, Gunther was sturdy, he'd probabl- she swatted away a million worries and solidified her plan. There would be time to check if he was alright after she took down this hulking brute.

—

Oruo's eyes widened as he caught Petra distantly speed past the remaining titan's face, taking its nose clean off, and doubling back on herself to get to the nape.

The hand - why hadn't she factored in the hand? Was she an idiot? And where the fuck was Gunther - she shouldn't be taking on a titan alone- she-

His heart was in his mouth and he made to leap from the rooftop, a strangled cry caught in his throat-

"Petr-arrglfhd-"

The taste of iron flooded his tongue and the wind was knocked from his chest as Eld's arm slammed into him.

"Stop - she's got this. You'll only distract her." His grip tightened around Oruo's chest, "You gotta trust her."

Oruo spat out a mouthful of blood, his face distorting in frustration,

"Let the fuck go of me you bearded blonde asshole-"

The world seemed to stop for a moment as Petra distantly slashed her way through the beast's hand and obliterated the nape. His jaw dropped and he felt Eld's grip loosen.

"Trust her." Eld urged, an unusual intensity in his brown eyes, "Now come on."

He zipped off and Oruo grumbled, wiping his bloody mouth on his sleeve.

Trust her. Fuck you Eld. You don't know her like I do.

A tiny voice alerted him to his heightened emotional state. It was unsoldierly, and dangerous. The Captain had said so time and time again. Keep your emotions in check; keep a lid on it.

"Pfft." He spat, before taking a deep breath, raising his chin. He had to rise above it. She was safe, that was all that mattered now.

A few minutes later he joined Eld and Petra on the caved-in roof, where they collectively fished Gunther from the building. He was fine, but missing his jacket and half of his shirt, and his gear was bent out of shape on one side. Apparently with some quick thinking and only one hook, he'd managed to propel himself deliberately through the hole in the roof and out of the titans reach and sight. He looked remarkably unfazed by his ordeal as he sat on the dirty red tiles, checking over his scratches.

Petra pulled a rag and a tiny flask of rubbing alcohol from a small pouch on her harness, and knelt down to begin cleaning the couple of small cuts he'd sustained to his shirt-free side.

For a second, Oruo watched her focused topaz eyes and little hands as they gently dabbed at Gunther's injuries. Then, pouting, he looked off towards the sunset with a barely contained huff.

Eld crossed his arms over his chest, eyeballing Gunther's state of undress;

"I'm taking it your plan to 'seduce the titan' didn't work then." He ribbed, "I'll have to let Section Commander Hange know."

"Very funny." Gunther grumbled, then hissed as some rubbing alcohol came into contact with one of his cuts. Petra apologised softly.

"Good work." Oruo murmured.

The three other squad members flicked their attention to him.

"…are you talking to me?" Petra asked tentatively, eyes round and rag limp in her hand.

"Who else would I mean?" He bit back, "That was your first solo kill since joining this squad…wasn't it?"

From the corner of his eye he picked up on her small smile.

"Oh…yeah…I guess it was. And only my second solo dispatch ever…"

"Hey! Good on ya booster seat." Eld beamed with pride.

Gunther's eyes twinkled a little, "The Special Ops squad is bringing out the best in you. You know what they say - an oak tree only grows in a stiff wind."

Eld cocked his head, "That's right - diamonds only form under pressure."

"An ice sculpture can only be crafted by an ice-sculptor." Oruo blurted.

Eld quirked a brow, "What? That's not-"

"It's a real phrase look it up." Oruo barked.

Petra laughed and shook her head, "The wisdom of this squad never ceases to amaze me."

She brought the rag back to Gunther's arm and he cringed.

"Sorry. This one might need a couple of stitches." She said, turning to Eld, "The area looks clear. Maybe we should regroup and I can patch Gunther up properly at base."

Eld nodded, "Good idea. Oruo - fire the flare."

Levi swatted open the front of the strategy tent and stalked out into the night. The big moon hung in the sky like a half-lidded eye, glancing across the now quiet town.

One of the soldiers on watch clocked him and gestured, "If you're looking for your squad, head to the second street on the left."

He repressed a grumble. So they were pissing about in the town now? The buildings weren't structurally sound, all it took to recognise that was a single measly glance. However, having just had that thought, when he turned onto the second street he was surprised to see how well it looked considering it's abandonment. He instantly spotted the tranquil yellow glow from a house about halfway down.

As he approached the doorway, he spent a minute or so surveying the condition of the wood and bricks of the exterior, then expressionlessly clocked the two scouts sat on watch on the roof with steaming metal mugs. It looked well enough. He ducked inside.

Small groups of soldiers were laying about on mats and tarps, some on the moth-eaten armchairs, and some around the old fireplace that they'd managed to light. They were cheerier than usual, the expedition so far had been unusually successful, with no fatalities and few injured, and they'd actually managed to follow Erwin's strategy without a hitch. Perhaps that was why they'd decided to camp out in this rotten old building, as a kind of grim, dangerous celebration. It was beyond moronic of course, the mission wasn't over until they were back though the gates.

The ramshackle house was somewhat sinister; it contained a wealth of perfectly in-tact (though skin-crawlingly dusty) items of furniture and trinkets left behind by the poor bastards that had once lived there. It was humble, and filthy.

He hadn't realised quite how filthy until his eyes flicked left. Sitting with his long-ass back against the grimy wall was that scout; the one Levi could never remember the name of…no, the one he decided he wouldn't remember the name of (the guy had earned no such respect); so now Levi had taken to referring to him in his mind as 'that lanky asshole' or anything along those lines. The gangly bitch was laughing with some of his squad mates when he caught Levi's hard glare and immediately paled.

Levi was masterful at communicating his hatred for another person with a single look, and so he was certain that the tall freak could read his exact thoughts which were more or less: fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

What business did he have being so tall? He was untrustworthy. Who knew what he was thinking about all the way up there.

"Hey - Captain."

Eld was beckoning him over to where his squad were sat in a far corner on mats and tattered floorboards. With a final glower at the unnamed scout, Levi snorted and turned away, making his way over to his squad. They were sat leaning on the peeling walls, each with a can of cold beans and some half eaten rations bars.

"What, the tents aren't good enough for you anymore?" He growled at them; then, clocking Gunther's state of half-undress, "The hell happened here?"

"ShrhtMhpuknsm." Oruo tried to say through a mouthful of beans.

"If you missed that, I believe he said 'shirt malfunction.'" Eld said dryly.

"Nothing Captain." Gunther frowned at Oruo, "I made a slight miscalculation."

Levi simply stared at him, and after a second's pause, Gunther realised he needed to elaborate,

"I was working solo and got grabbed just after I took out its eyes - messed up the left side of my gear. Managed to escape by jetting through a hole in a roof."

"…"

"Gelgar and Moblit are searching through the reserves to see if there's any spare harnesses, gear or uniform in my size."

Eld smirked, "Anything else you need to get off your chest?"

Petra squeaked with amusement and Gunther sighed the sigh of a deeply tired man.

Levi glanced at Gunther's sewn up arm, then to Petra.

"You patch him up?"

She blinked, taken off guard, and rapidly swallowed a mouthful of ration bar, "Yes sir. Although it was nothing serious-"

"Good job."

His eyes lingered on her a moment, hoping he might catch anything; the faintest blush, a nervous breath…but he observed no such response from her. He glanced to the ground, squashing the slight burning in his chest

"Whats the plan tomorrow sir?" Oruo asked, tapping his fork into his now empty can.

Levi replied flatly, "Take out the big ass jerks when they get in the way."

"Come on Captain, that's no way to talk about Mike's squad." Eld jested, but his smile faded as Levi stared at him expressionlessly. Oruo scoffed.

"Did you take a hit to your head Eld? You're more annoying than usual." Levi uttered wryly and Petra squeaked another giggle through her hand. Maybe they'd all taken a hit to the head. It seemed like the atmosphere in this run-down room was only slightly short of hysteria.

Levi was less than a split-second away from leaving, when Gelgar and Moblit bustled in from an adjoining room,

"Hey guys - look what we found!"

They held up a neglected guitar and dusty old lute.

A vein was pulsing in Gunther's temple, and he crossed his arms hotly, "You said you were looking for spare gear."

"Alright, alright - keep your shirt on." Gelgar remarked mindlessly to a small ripple of laughter through the room.

"I found you a top?" Moblit offered almost apologetically, handing Gunther a bundle of grey material that looked like it was definitely going to be too small.

Gunther looked less than thrilled, "Thanks…I guess."

Five minutes passed and Levi still hadn't left. Instead he was now sat on his cloak in the corner (no damn way was he sitting on the disgusting floorboards) next to Eld, Gunther and Oruo while Moblit and Petra tuned the creaky instruments, which took a lot longer than normal due to the rough state of them. The pair winced and laughed as they twanged the odd string, grimacing at one another as they slowly twisted the tuning pegs.

Levi remained silent, trying not to think about the way that tall, bastard scout had moved forward to take a seat as close to the musicians as possible, or the way his lecherous bug eyes were watching Petra. Getting angry about such things was a ridiculous waste of energy, especially when they were beyond the wall. Was he at the whim and fancy of his basest instincts? No. He wasn't a moron. Instead he patiently awaited the show.

The Scout's band had played at the local tavern only a handful of times following the Trost Winter Parade, and he was often too busy with administrative work to attend, especially now that he did his paperwork alone. If he could go however, he would, no matter how uncomfortable being in a filthy pub around wailing drunks made him. He'd never let an opportunity to hear Petra play slide by; few things had such a power to transport him so entirely away to somewhere better.

"What do you think?" Gelgar muttered to the pair of string players, "A traditional song first?"

Petra put her hand to her mouth in thought, "Hmm - it could be nice in this setting."

"Do you know 'Ode to Worry?'"

Moblit and Petra beamed and nodded at Gelgar, each plucking a string to set the key.

Gelgar took a swig from his flask, before clearing his throat and tapping his foot thrice, at which point the lute and guitar began to chime, perfectly in sync. Petra strummed shimmering chords, while Moblit plucked the sweet melody line across it on the lute.

The rooms attention was pooled on the three of them, feet tapping, as Gelgar began to sing;

"'Been chased by worry for all of my life,

She caught me, my worry, and now she's my wife.

Throughout all my toil, she refuses to leave me,

And just like the soil, she's always beneath me,

She sprouts her flowers of bother and fear,

In spite of the seasons they grow round the year."

Moblit and Petra added some gentle 'oohs' in the background in harmony, while Gelgar continued into a chorus;

"Oh worry, can't you see?

I just want to be free.

Oh worry, it's not fair,

Where I look you are there.

Oh worry, so unkind,

You are plaguing my mind,

Oh worry, can't you see?

I just want to be free."

"…tell you what - I could do with a hot cocoa." Oruo mumbled under his breath

"That's not a bad shout." Eld said quietly, "Captain, Gunther? Klaus's squad have some water boiled, I could ask-"

"Are you making it?" Levi inquired lowly, his gaze unshifting from the musicians.

"Ye-"

"Then no."

Oruo smirked at the exchange.

The evening ebbed away in no time at all since the music began. For the duration, the room was undisturbed: a tiny slice of calm amid the terror of the expedition. All souls present were collectively reset, further bonded by the unusual experience and instilled with a confidence that whatever tomorrow brought, they would tackle as a unit. Levi mused on music's odd power to pull together even the least likely crowds, and bring about a calmness in the mind. It had always been the same, underground, above ground, within the walls, and now outside of them.

As she approached the squad at the end of their last-minute set, Petra burst into giggles at Gunther's tiny grey top, which barely reached his middle, and clung to the muscles of his arms like a second skin. At her childish reaction, Levi told him to ride back the following day with the wagons, because even though they'd managed to source him a spare harness and set of gear, Gunther's tiny new attire was clearly going to be too distracting for his dumbass squad.

Levi couldn't risk having one of them getting eaten because they were too busy trying to think of a damn joke at Gunther's expense.

Dawn wasn't far away and, feeling calmer and refreshed from the music, he left with the intent of returning to the tents, and perhaps take his horse an apple. He'd only taken a few steps up the old road before he heard an unfamiliar voice calling his name;

"Captain Levi sir?"

Mustering the will, he turned to see that gangly son of a bitch approach him. If he had one thing going for him, he supposed it was that the asshole was brave.

"I'm sorry to bother you Captain, but - I was wondering if I've done something to offend you sir."

Levi's gaze could have split stone. Offend him? The gall.

"…if that's the case I'd like to make it right sir."

"Tch."

Curses were caught in his throat. Thoughts he couldn't air because if he did, he would be giving external validation to feelings he wasn't allowed to have.

Yeah, he could tell this asshole to stay the hell away from Petra, he could invent some bullshit reason why this prick wasn't to take her out on 'dates' or whatever the fuck else he'd been doing with her - Levi found he couldn't follow that thought through any further for fear he would wordlessly break the man's jaw, and the medical cart would already have enough to deal with on the ride back.

The fact was, if he forbade such…activity, then he was no better than the self-absorbed swine of the Nobles or MP's, exercising every minute crumb of control over the people they had the responsibility to protect.

His feelings about this situation weren't important, they just were, and he had to live with them, no matter how he was tested on the subject.

The lanky freak's face was contorted in a blend of anticipation and fear.

"You look like you're struggling to shit." Levi bit out;

"Look around you. This crumbling wreckage of garbage used to be people's homes, their whole lives. Scouts are fighting and dying trying to take all this back for humanity, but you…" He raised his chin disdainfully, derision dripping from his tongue, "All you're concerned about is whether or not you've pissed me off. Shit. Well good for you that you have the time and inclination to worry about such petty personal failings."

The scout's face was marred with disbelief as Levi approached him, brusquely yanking the tall imbecile down by his shirt collar so they were nose to nose.

"Let me give you some advice, soldier;" He spat, "grow the hell up." Then threw the man off, who stumbled, clutching his neck and coughing.

Levi turned and walked away down the street.

"Not like that."

It had been just over a week since the return from the expedition, and Petra had stopped outside the common room door on overhearing a rather unusual conversation. A smile gradually lit up her face as she set eyes on the strange picture.

"Do you want it to be lumpy? Stir in a splash of hot water first to make a paste. Then pour in the rest of it."

She pressed her lips together an attempt to contain herself, her dam of exhaustion following the day's drills and band practice could not hold back the wave of joy which was washing over her. She'd been planning on heading straight to bed, but now she wished she could stand in the doorway forever, just watching them.

The Captain was teaching Oruo how to make the perfect cocoa in the kitchenette, and Gunther and Eld were playing draughts at the table.

"Hot water? Haven't we got any milk left?" She beamed on her way in.

"Petra?" Oruo was exuding a bright excitement that was quite uncharacteristic, "Try my cocoa, it's delicious - even if I do say so myself."

He held the mug out towards her with a comical over-enthusiasm, and she cautiously accepted it, raising an eyebrow as she cradled it between her palms,

"Your cocoa? It's just that - I've been watching from the door for a few minutes and it seems to me like the Captain taught you how to make it."

She sipped the hot drink and smiled. Not too sweet, but still rich and comforting. No way was this made with just hot water. If the Captain could make cocoa this good without milk, then he must be dabbling in dark magic.

Oruo's smugness overrode her thoughts, his lilting tone replete with its usual conceit,

"Oh, you've been watching me have you?"

Petra wanted to slap her hand to her forehead.

He continued, "There I always thought you were too sweet to be a pervert; I should've known appearances aren't everything, not after your post-graduation shenanigans."

"Shenanigans…?" Of course Eld was interested in that word.

She glanced at the pair at the table, frowning, and mindlessly returned Oruo's cocoa to him,

"Honestly, I have no idea what he's talking about."

"Really Petra? You don't remember pissing yourself and bawling after your first ever trip beyond the wall?" Oruo puffed his chest out, like the self-satisfied prick he was.

Oh fuck.

She felt any positive feeling drain from her, along with any blood in her face.

"WHAT!" Eld had stood up from his chair, delight plastered across his features, "Petra you didn't."

"No way." Gunther was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Oruo!" Her hands balled to fists at her sides, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

This was utterly mortifying. Perhaps she should just quit the scouts and work scrubbing laundry. It would take a lifetime to wash away that stain. She'd spent nearly six months building up some kind of friendship and respect with these guys, only for Oruo to rip it all away with a single sentence. Not to mention that she was suddenly horrifically hyper aware of the Captain's presence in the kitchenette, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. Oh god. She would never be able to look him in the eyes ever again…she already struggled to.

Oruo's blustering voice continued, "Maybe next time you're requesting rations you should request yourself some diapers."

Goddamn it, he really didn't know when to shut his jerk mouth.

"Alright." She stared straight at him, flames of rage licking around her, "I wasn't going to say anything, but since you've pushed me…" She turned back to the room, "I wasn't the only one to cry and wet themselves on that mission," Then to Oruo again with hotly renewed focus, "isn't that right?"

He slowly deflated, his face ashen, "N-no I-"

Did he really think she wouldn't tell? He was such a moron. If she was going down, he was absolutely coming with her.

"Hot damn - this is brilliant!" Eld might as well have been slapping his thigh, "Five stars - you should charge a fee for tickets."

Gunther remained silent, but he looked like a man changed for the worse.

"P-Petra that's not true!" Oruo stammered.

"Oh! So you're calling me a liar now?"

"I-" He looked extraordinarily distressed, "No."

"Good! And the next time you piss yourself, don't come crying to me!"

A low chuckle sounded through the room; it stopped almost as soon as it sounded, but it was enough for them to realise it was coming from the Captain.

Did he just…?

Petra and Oruo were stock still, staring at him, alarmed.

He stared back, his eyebrows were slightly relaxed he looked almost amused. He picked up his cup of cocoa with his fingertips, "Don't stop on my account."

"You two, grab us some cocoa and sit the hell down, we're hearing this goddamn story right now." Eld demanded.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need an explanation." Gunther added quietly.

The pair of them shuffled their feet, shooting furious glances at one another as they made their way to sit down. The Captain followed, taking his regular seat at the head of the table much to Petra's chagrin.

Seriously? Now he wants to spend quality time with the squad? To hear this embarrassing as all hell story? Good lord.

"…so?" Eld motioned with his hand.

Petra looked to Oruo, who scowled and glanced away indignantly, chin up and arms crossed

She sighed,

"…we were positioned with the other new recruits running the spare horses-"

"Obviously." Oruo interrupted.

"Do you wanna tell it?" She retorted, glowering, to no response.

By the walls he was such a child.

She took a deep breath, "To be honest there isn't a whole lot to tell, not from my point of view anyway. We both ran some spare horses out to enemy detection on the right flank, where they'd taken a hit, but no-one realised that the titan…it wasn't properly…out…it just looked like it was, but the cut must not have been deep enough…"

She cleared her throat and tried to focus on stopping the blood that was predictably rushing to her cheeks. Nothing cut quite like the Captain's gaze, and she could feel it penetrating to her very bones from her peripheral vision, not to mention Eld and Gunther were hanging on her every word. No-one had even taken a single sip of cocoa since she started talking.

She eyed Eld and Gunther, "If only you two were this attentive in the field - right sir?"

She laughed nervously and then glanced to the Captain, whose brows twitched up, and a subtle glint of humour glanced across the grey of his irises. For him, that was basically a wide smile, and she took some joy in it; she was still reeling slightly from having heard him laugh for the first time.

Besides, it was good to get a small dig in at the others before she was forced to humiliate herself so entirely in front of him.

She cleared her throat again, "So, there we were, approaching these three soldiers whose horses had run off, when there was the most horrific shriek-"

"An ungodly scream-" Oruo added.

"Right - and the titan dragged itself up from the ground, clawing mud-"

"It flung the mud at us - if you can believe it Captain-"

"Well, I wouldn't say that that was deliberate-"

"Oh I would. It was most definitely a calculated attack. The bastard must've known we were green - smelt our fear."

"Honestly Oruo, it was just standing up from the ground, the mud thing was just a-"

"Guys." Eld interjected, "Get to the good bit."

Petra and Oruo looked at one another, shamefaced, then dropped their eyes to the table.

"Well, then we…" Oruo's hand was rubbing his neck, "…then we retreated, as any good soldier would have in such a situation."

Gunther's frown was pronounced, "You left those scouts on the right flank alone without horses?"

"What?" Petra was stunned, "No - no - of course not! They mounted the spares and retreated with us! We might have done a lot of…unfortunate things on that trip," She swallowed, "but abandoning our comrades was not one of them!"

"Right!" Oruo affirmed, pounding a fist on the table in agreement, as though somehow the intensity of the sentiment might make the rest of the squad forget why the story was being told in the first place.

"So you retreated…" Eld encouraged.

"The titan roared and chased us until we managed to rejoin the formation and outrun it." Petra's head fell into her hands. "It all happened so fast."

"If you'd only heard the noise that monster made!" Oruo cried melodramatically, "The goddess Sina herself would have quaked in her boots!"

"It was…bad." Petra muttered.

"Fuck." Oruo bewailed.

"I'm not proud of it." She shook her head.

"…you already know what happened next…or…during." Oruo said shamefully.

"Our poor horses." Petra mumbled.

A beat passed before Eld practically exploded with laughter, Gunther guffawed and even the edge of the Captain's mouth was ever so slightly upturned.

"Holy shit - you pissed onto your horses? No fucking way." Eld was pushing his fingertips into his temples to try and calm down a little. "That is too good."

Gunther chuckled, "A new low."

Oruo growled, "You have no right to laugh like that - you weren't there! We thought the bastard was dead!"

"I didn't need to be there." Eld rebutted, "I've never once pissed myself on an expedition - or off an expedition for that matter."

"Me neither." Gunther crossed his arms, a hint of judgement in his voice, "Sounds like the whole regiment could smell your fear after that." He shared a look with Eld, who fist bumped him.

"Yeah well." Petra was chewing her lip and kept her eyes focused wholly on the table, "They made us ride in the carts on the way back."

"You still got your regulation yellows?" Eld quirked a brow.

Petra looked confused, "Huh?"

"You know - your soiled trousers? Surely you kept them as a memento?"

"Tch." The Captain scowled. Clearly the idea of keeping the pissy trousers was a step too far for him.

"If by 'kept' you mean 'burned to ash', then yeah I kept them." Petra said wryly.

"And the crying?"

The squad were always a little taken aback when the Captain actively contributed to their silly conversations.

Petra caught his eye and felt her heart stop momentarily.

God, how had she ended up in this position? Telling the most attractive and admirable, yet most filth-phobic person she'd ever met about how she'd pissed herself and bawled her eyes out doing the very job she now did for him…if it weren't that he seemed (for some completely unknown reason) to be enjoying the conversation, she would have assumed her's and Oruo's days on his elite squad were over.

She gulped, "The crying was…pretty much constant…sir."

He looked to Oruo, "Is that right?"

"Not at all Captain. My eyes were dry for the ordeal, though I'll admit that at one point a leaf blew into one of them and caused it to water somewhat, which is why Petra might tell you that-"

"Bullshit! You cried more than me."

"Fuck off did I-"

"Look guys," Eld began, "You both cried and pissed yourselves, no point arguing which of two piles of horse shit stinks more - they're both still piles of shit."

The Captain chuckled quietly again at that, and Eld looked pleased with himself.

Gunther sipped his cocoa, eyebrows raised, "I can't wait to tell James."

"Oh - no." Petra stood up, hands on her hips, "There'll be no telling people about this. This stays in this room."

"That's right." Oruo affirmed, also standing and pointing a finger firmly down into the table to emphasise his point, "I invoke the Special Op's pact of secrecy - keep your damn traps shut! Do you want the whole regiment laughing at us again? We're the most elite squad, we need the respect of the troops!"

"They'll be laughing at you, not us." Gunther said flatly.

Petra began to panic.

"Staring contest!" She blurted, "If we win, you have to promise you won't say anything to anyone else."

Oruo nodded, "Yeah - and no more taking the piss out of us."

"I mean, you did that yourselves." Eld derided and Gunther spluttered a mouthful of cocoa.

"Staring contest, huh?" The Captain's low voice rumbled, "And how, may I ask, will the two of you stare at three separate men at once?"

The blood rushed to Petra's cheeks again, "Uh…I don't…"

Oruo's brow was twitching as his mind sped through any alternatives.

The Captain looked deadly serious as ever, but once again spoke as though he were smiling,

"A shame. There I thought you had a special party trick to show us."

"Actually Petra can do a pretty good impressi-arglg-" Oruo narrowly avoided biting his tongue again as Petra kicked him hard in the leg.

"How about a pop quiz?" Gunther offered, "Captain, why don't you ask us some questions, and whoever gets the most answers correct wins?"

Petra protested, "But then the Captain still doesn't get to play-"

"Fine."

As the Captain answered, he looked even more youthful than usual, his expression quite unburdened, the shadows under his eyes paler.

Eld smiled, "To be clear, if Gunther and I win, we'll tell everyone we know about piss-gate. Maybe I'll ask Moblit to write a song-"

"And if we win," Oruo scoffed, "No-one ever mentions this ever again, that includes joking about it."

Eld stood and held out his hand to Oruo, "Good luck."

"You'll need it." Oruo replied, taking Eld's hand firmly.

"Three questions." The Captain stated, and Gunther bustled off to fetch some paper, pens and an ink pot.

—

Levi looked on, wryly amused as Eld, Oruo and Petra sat back down and proceeded to stare at each other in silence, their arms folded and their eyes narrowed. The quiet was only broken by Gunther shuffling back into the room, clearing his throat as he placed the paraphernalia onto the table top. Each member slowly pulled a sheet and pen over to themselves.

Fingers clasping the edges of the cup, Levi took a long slow sip from his cocoa, all too aware of the team members' expectant gaze, pens dipped and poised. He spotted Oruo's dripping splotches of ink all over his previously blank sheet of parchment, and wondered if it was too soon to knock two points off their team for the mess. Then he noticed the pure, dazzling spirit in Petra's amber eyes, and granted them two additional points…it evened out. He languidly placed the cup back onto the table with an exhale.

"Alright. Question one. How many copies of 'A Touch of Frances Fancy' does Erwin own? I'll give you a hint, it's more than three."

Petra giggled sweetly, earning their team a bonus point.

Eld looked incredulous, "What the hell is 'A Touch of Frances Fancy?'"

"A cheesy romance novella by S. Seidel." Gunther had already written his answer and barely looked up, "It was a best-seller about twenty years ago, still does quite well I think."

"You done?" Levi uttered sounding as bored as ever, "Let's see."

The four held up their pages, revealing their answers to the group.

"Zero Oruo?" Petra said, flabbergasted, "He said it was more than three!"

"I thought it was a trick question." Oruo grumbled, "Why would he help us?"

"The answer is eight."

"Eight!" Came the stupefied chorus.

Levi wished Erwin could've seen their response, maybe that would convince him to burn some of his garbage collection. He crossed his arms, speaking flatly;

"He says half of them belonged to his father. But even if that's true, that still leaves four copies he somehow acquired himself."

The squad were babbling and chortling,

"Hey, each to their own eh?" Eld smiled and elbowed Gunther, "A point to us I believe."

Levi nodded. Eld's answer was the closest at six, Gunther and Petra had both written four. Oruo grumbled something unintelligible.

"Question two."

The table fell again into silent anticipation. Levi mused that Petra had been right, it seemed to be the most attentive he'd ever seen the squad. He held in a tired sigh

"If I add six to eleven, why do I get five?"

It was a question once posed to him at an underground bar, which he correctly answered, winning Furlan a new leather coin purse. The squad's eyes flicked back to their papers as they scrawled answers. Moments later they revealed their workings.

Oruo had written, 'Because you didn't go to school' and promptly received a month's toilet duty.

Eld's page said, 'You don't, you get seventeen', and Gunther had put, 'Seventeen…', and was shaking his head as he held up his sheet.

Levi's eyes sparked as he scanned Petra's page which read: 'Time. 5PM.'

He found it excruciatingly difficult not to smile then as she did, a knowing glimmer of her correctness in her eyes. He forced himself to look away.

Eld and Gunther groaned when they realised she was right, and Oruo slapped Petra's back;

"Heh - I knew I could count on you Petra, you always were the most reliable of us besides myself. And that of course means a point for us - so we're tied. This reminds me of a time-"

"Question three." Levi interrupted. The squad could thank him later for saving them from whatever shitty anecdote that was about to be.

Once again the room was hushed and concentrated on him.

"When is my birthday?"

You could've heard a pin drop.

He wanted to smirk at the speed at which the colour drained from everyone's faces. For a moment, no-one wrote anything and looked at one another in a kind of anxious dismay. This was almost as good as making the new recruits shit themselves in fear, if not better. Slowly, unconfidently, they each put pen to paper and scribbled something down.

"Go on." He grumbled, instructing them to reveal their answers.

Petra's expression was optimistic, and her page read, 'May 28th' and she'd drawn a little smiling face beside it, which vexed him.

Gunther had written, 'October 15th'. Wrong. Though close to Erwin's.

Eld's page said, 'Today?…Happy Birthday?' Tch.

Oruo, shockingly, had the nearest answer which was, 'December 21st.'

Levi exhaled. Then he picked up his cocoa, draining it.

"…sir?" Gunther asked tentatively, "Uh…what's the answer?"

The cup clacked as he put it down.

"December 25th." He muttered and Oruo stood from his chair and slammed his hands down on the table.

"Hah!" He shouted, to further grumbles from Eld and Gunther, "You know what that means - keep your blabbering imbecile mouths shut! No spreading the story around, and no mentioning it."

"You got lucky." Eld said, eyebrow quirked and a slight sourness to his features. Evidently he wasn't used to losing.

Levi was close to chastising the group of them when he caught Petra's relieved expression, and stopped himself.

"Thank the walls for that." She muttered softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He felt his heart speed up a little, and stood abruptly. With a cursory nod, he took himself from the room.

As he walked away down the corridor, he could hear the squad continue to laugh and joke in joyous rapture;

"That so Oruo?" Eld quipped. "I know you only said December 21st because it's the shortest day of the year."

"Don't be mad because you didn't think of it." He heard Oruo reply.

Levi snorted. It seemed that Oruo had six additional months of toilet duty to look forward to.

Notes:

phew what a hefty chapter

i vaguely remember seeing something about the 21st being the shortest day of the year, and it being close to levi's birthday somewhere online and i just couldnt resist

sadly again i think im going to have to delay the next chapters for a few weeks as I've been inundated with things to do and unable to keep to this schedule atm especially in terms of editing.

thought id put here the ref songs for the scout band here too in case u wanna check it out- but equally music is v personal and ideally ppl can sub in stuff that's to their personal tastes to the scout band- basically: ignore this if u already had songs in mind!

at the trost parade (GW chapter 25) the general vibe i was going for was Beirut's album 'the rip tide' - the song gelgar sings there is homaging 'East Harlem'

when petra sings in general the vibe i'm following is Phoebe Bridgers - the song she sings in that same chapter is loosely based on 'Savior Complex' right down to the celeste haha

and this chapter's song is based off of 'Trouble' by Cat Stevens!

These songs were v much springboards for me in terms of what i was 'hearing' and to write lyrics (lol that pale in comparison to any of the originals) but that were kind of tailored more to the situation the characters were in...there we go in case anyone was interested in the vibe i pictured :3

Chapter 5: Sweeten the Port (mini chapter)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Dogs or poker?" Mike sniffed his glass of rich port before sitting back into the worn brown-leather sofa by the wall of Erwin's office.

"Horses." Erwin said, pouring one for himself. The stream of deep maroon liquid was so thick and sweet looking, he could almost have been pouring himself a glass of treacle.

"Mm." Mike grunted, "Smells vintage."

Erwin's lips twitched into a half smile, "One of the few times I'd say that was a good thing." Then he made his way over to sit in his small armchair which matched the sofa, a low coffee table between them.

"Notes of ripe blackberries. Must of cost you an arm and a leg."

Erwin inhaled deeply, then held his glass out; "To 'His Honor the Hammering Devil of Quinta.'" His icy blue eyes blazed behind the deep garnet liquid.

Mike matched the gesture,

"Is that what they're calling them nowadays then?"

"The naming regulations are strict; as a result racehorse owners have been known to get creative. I once lost betting on a horse called 'Titan's Demise', which is as unfortunate as it is foreboding."

"A good thing such things have no influence beyond the walls."

"Quite."

Mike took a large gulp of port, almost finishing his glass in one. Erwin's brow cocked and he brought his own glass to his lips, savouring the sweet flavour of musky berries. Life was made up of these little moments, minuscule intervals of victory and loss forming a grand picture of one's voyage. The honeyed taste of success obliterated all his other senses, the climax of this interval, that brief, vindicating point which validated the prior journey.

"Would you ever give it up?" Mike asked.

Erwin took a moment.

"If I no longer learned from the outcome."

Mike drained his glass and placed it on the small table.

"Not to be a naysayer but what can you learn from it? The fastest horse wins, there's nothing more to it."

Erwin glanced at Mike's empty glass and stood to once again fetch the expensive bottle of port from the desk.

"In some ways, yes; what will be will be." The cork made a squeaking pop as he removed it from the bottle, "But think of the titans. Wouldn't you say they were the fastest horse in the race against us? And yet, given the time and resources, humanity has found ways to beat them, ways to improve our understanding of this world. The race goes on, though we don't always emerge victorious, the odds are changing, and so I enjoy watching the odds."

"You're saying that you learn how to beat titans from betting on horses."

Erwin smiled, pushing the cork back into the bottle.

"It isn't possible to predict the future. A sure-fire horse will not always win, likewise, a horse that usually comes in last could take the crown. There's always the chance to be surprised - the slimmest possibility of victory; the tiniest glimmer of potential." He sank back into his chair, picking up his glass, "I truly believe that without that spark, humanity behind these walls would have died out years ago."

Mike sniffed again. His eyes betraying nothing of his feelings about the conversation. His voice rumbled with a low monotone;

"I never knew much of my grandmother, but she used to say that joining the scouts was akin to betting on a losing dog."

Erwin chuckled, "She may well turn out to be right. But we, none of us, will live to see the outcome of every race. There will always be knowledge just beyond our grasp, stories that have no end; a simple fact we must all come to terms with. Did your grandmother live to see you enlist?"

"No."

"Well."

The men fell silent for a moment, pensively sipping their rich wine in the flickering candlelight. Erwin slowly leant forward and placed his glass onto the coffee table.

"There's a freedom in unpredictability: one of the only freedoms shared by all of us. A kind of paradox: one can only be certain that what will happen is uncertain. Betting on the races reminds me of that. I find that it strengthens my resolve to formally go through the process of chance, knowing I have something to lose, and that I am not in complete control of the outcome. I suppose luck is a tool in a scout's belt like any other, it provides opportunity - if you're quick enough to make use of it."

"Hm." Mike muttered, "Such as the opportunity to spend any winnings on a nice bottle of vintage port."

Another smile swept across Erwin's face, "Naturally."

Notes:

title is from the old gambling term 'sweeten the pot' which means to make something more desirable - in that case to add more money to the pot to increase the chance that people would bet

Chapter 6: Growth

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

April

Hannah and Julia were leaning against the office door, smirking.

"A little birdie told me that Bert is joining your team at the tavern quiz tonight Petra…" Hannah's voice teased smoothly, and she ran a dust rag through her hands.

"Since when did you allow 'outsiders' on your elite Special Ops team?" Jules asked archly.

It didn't matter how little she saw her two best friends from her ex-squad, they always fell back into their old dynamic.

"Will you help me sort this out instead of just standing there?" Petra huffed in response.

"Sure dude. Just as soon as you dish." Jules said, teasing her hand through her dark brown curls semi-distractedly.

"It's nothing." Petra said firmly, eyes hard towards the mismatched pair, who chortled.

"I mean it." She stated with more force, "His squad wanted to split up for the quiz because only two of them could make it, so I offered. It's nothing more than common courtesy."

"Ooooh." Hannah laughed.

"Plus he's good friends with Eld, so it made sense. Now come on."

She fired them a wrathful look and they jumped, scrambling to help her rearrange and neaten up the Captain's office.

All of the higher-ups in the regiment had been called away for eight days to Mitras for the annual meeting of all the Military branches, and Petra had been tasked by Commander Erwin himself to complete the Captain's paperwork over the course of that time, expressing that as someone who had assisted the man in that area she was much better suited to the role than Eld. Not only that, but it freed up some of Eld's time as second to plan the week's worth of drills, something that he needed the practice at if he ever wanted to be promoted…though Petra wasn't sure he ever wanted to be promoted; the squad in its current form had an indescribable flow, and they each were sinking ever deeper into the comfort of their positions - none more so than Eld.

Needless to say, the Captain was going to be back tomorrow, and Petra, though she gave her best effort, had unintentionally managed to completely re-organise the drawers and cabinets of his office…

It'd become clear to her that during the month or so she'd spent helping him, he'd very much given her the easiest documents to work through, and she'd spent the past week tirelessly running from drills to band practice, and then spending far too long each evening writing up paperwork and filling in documents that she was only half-sure she understood. In her exhaustion she'd been replacing items to random drawers, sometimes not clearing anything away before returning to the barracks, and on Thursday night she'd accidentally fallen asleep at the office desk and woken up with a page of writing stuck to her face.

The result was that the place now, though not a complete pigsty, was significantly messier than usual - far too unkempt for the Captain's standards, and she'd roped in Hannah and Jules in a last ditch effort to help her try and put everything back where it was (as far as she could remember), and dust every inch of the space until it was returned to its usual uptight spotlessness.

"Um baby girl?" Hannah asked dubiously, holding up four long candles tied together by their wicks, "Are these supposed to be in the filing cabinet? They were in a folder marked 'equipment maintenance logs'."

Jules laughed, "And this desk drawer is just filled with scrunched up balls of paper."

Petra bit her lip, "I uh - started using that drawer as the paper bin because it was quicker than getting up to use the actual bin…"

Hannah raised her eyebrows, "And the candles?"

She sighed, "Oh. Look in the cupboard next to the filing cabinet."

Hannah did as Petra said, opening a cupboard next to the cabinet and smiled when she saw the neatly stacked bundles of spare candles, all tied into fours, "At least you tied them right…"

Petra tittered, standing on a chair to dust above one of the bookcases,

"Honestly, I wonder how the higher ranking officers can get all their paperwork done. It was a nightmare this past week. I ended up skipping band on Friday because I just couldn't hack doing it all."

Jules had moved the bin over to the desk and was decanting the balled up paper from the drawer into it. She spoke playfully,

"There was a time, wasn't there - before the Huberts' of the world appeared - where you were assisting the Captain with his…paperwork…isn't that right Petra?" She smiled smugly.

"Oh yeah…" Hannah snorted a laugh, "I almost forgot…"

Petra scowled at them. She'd been a hundred percent certain that this topic would come up when she'd asked them for help tidying his office, but had hoped she was wrong.

"He didn't need my help anymore. Anyway, I was only doing it because I lost that stupid arm wrestle you dared me to do."

"Sure you were." Jules said pointedly, throwing a ball of paper into the bin for extra emphasis.

"And I don't appreciate your implication." Petra said emphatically, "We were just doing paperwork. Really. It was…boring."

That was a lie - it was fascinating, in a 'silently tense' kind of a way. Her favourite part of the week. But they didn't need to know that.

"Doing paperwork…or doing 'it' on the paperwork…" Hannah chuckled quietly, then froze in alarm as a book flew not centimetres past her head, and she turned to see Petra glaring from where she was stood on the chair, hands on her hips.

"Don't make me come down there!" She snapped.

"Is that what you used to say to him?" Hannah retorted.

"For the love of the WALLS Hannah!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to offend you Miss Humanity's Strongest!" Hannah did a mock courtesy.

"That's Mrs Humanity's Strongest to you." Jules cackled.

Petra flung two more books at them, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you two for help!"

They squealed, giggling and began doing their jobs at hyper speed. Petra shook her head and returned to dusting above the bookcase.

"At this rate Oruo would have been a better assistant." She muttered under her breath.

She'd pondered now and again if the Captain had ever considered asking her why she stopped helping him with his paperwork. He'd definitely noticed it, the longer she was on his squad the more she realised there wasn't a single minute detail about anything that he missed, and her not showing up anymore (small as she was) wasn't exactly a minute detail. He was quiet, hard-edged, and unfazed, but he was always attentively watching everything, absorbing every nuance of his surroundings - in the same way that he'd pinpoint every speck of dust in a room in seconds. It made the fact that he'd walked away from her at the Trost Winter Parade all the more heartbreaking. She was now certain that in that moment, he'd read her entirely, and yet, he'd had nothing to say.

She tried not to think about that too much. And she'd kept her promise to herself to keep an eye on him for his wellbeing, but she'd decided it was best to do so at an arm's length; it was important that she protected herself, cut back the blossoms of her own affection so she didn't eternally sink into the sadness of continual unreturned feelings. He was a work of art, and she had to make sure she was stood behind the red ropes with everyone else, not ogling the brushwork up close as she'd be wont to do previously.

"Thinking about what? Inviting Rose? Does Clara know?"

Hearing Hannah's questions pricked Petra's ears, "Huh?" She turned back to face them, "Who is Rose?"

Jules's cheeks took on a rosy glow and her dark eyes shone shyly

"Rose is Jules's new squeeze." Hannah said, raising her brows cheekily.

"She's a mechanic that works on ODM gear upgrades." Jules said, twiddling her thumbs.

Petra beamed, "You kept that one quiet!

"It's a new…thing I suppose." The brunette mumbled, "A bit like you and Bert."

Petra pressed her lips together, "For the last time! That isn't a thing!"

"Did you tell him that? You might want to…"

Another book sailed past Jules's head.

Levi's sleep patterns in Mitras had been worse than normal, in fact he was sure his regular headache had begun the moment his horse trotted through the gate into Sina, and hadn't let up until they left.

As always, the city was dripping in ludicrous extravagance, and he'd never been so angry to set his eyes on such clean surroundings. No stone or statue was unpolished, no rose-bed unpruned, no shopfront unpainted.

That kind of cleanliness represented something menacing, it was a symbol of opulent, malicious self-importance. That kind of cleanliness wasn't about basic hygiene, but instead was rife with judgement for anyone poor: it shone into their grubby faces both in flat rejection of them as human beings, and also as a beacon of 'greatness' - that specific brand of unattainable greatness reserved only for those lucky enough to be born rich. That specific brand of greatness, in other words, that meant you could afford to build statues of your own asshole family and invent meaningless accolades to celebrate the achievement of absolutely shit all. It almost made him want to spit onto the perfectly buffed marble.

So today he was relieved to be returning to the meagre, dusty reality of the barracks. To the place that most closely resembled a home for him.

They'd made good time on their return, arriving just after lunchtime on Sunday to a compound cheerfully brimming with the relaxed atmosphere of new springtime.

On his return to the barracks he stopped at a curious sight: his squad on the green out the front of the building, Eld and Gunther were shovelling mud and Petra was beaming, a small sapling sort-of cuddled in her arms and leant across her shoulder. Behind her, that shitty, tall nuisance of a scout held a wheelbarrow.

"It's a Rowan tree."

Levi blinked once in silent alarm on hearing the glum voice sound behind him, holding back his surprise when he turned around to see Oruo sitting up against a wall, sadly picking the petals off of a daisy. He stared at the man, reading how the tired lines had etched ever deeper into his face. He looked distraught.

After a moment, he walked over, and slowly sat down, the pair looking towards the distant, smiling squad (and unwelcome guest) as they placed the sapling into the earth.

Oruo didn't acknowledge that Levi had sat by him, he simply continued to sullenly pull at the petals of the poor flower, eviscerating it.

"She said she wanted to plant it because it's known in her village as 'the tree of life'." He muttered, "Apparently it represents wisdom or protection or something ridiculous."

"You look tired." Levi said lowly, not taking his eyes from the new sapling and its haphazard gardeners.

"Mm." Oruo grunted.

Strangely, Levi found he had no urge to chastise the man for continually forgetting his honorific. He glanced over to Oruo and the now empty green stalk he twiddled between his thumbs.

The birds twittered sweetly and a light breeze disturbed the blades of grass, daisies and buttercups that were nestled within it.

"Sometimes people leave you." He said. "There's nothing you can do about that. In the end, it's their choice." He stood up, "All you can do is move on best way you know how, but…" He watched as the soldiers in the distance finished shovelling mud around the base of the tree;

"You'd be wise to remember what they taught you about yourself."

He walked away and Oruo watched after him, lip wobbling a little before returning his gaze to his empty stalk.

One of the new decisions implemented at the Mitras Military meeting was a request from Keith Shadis, the head instructor for the southern division of the cadet corps.

His idea was that each of the three military regiments take a batch of first-year cadets for a week to be coached by that branch's veteran soldiers. This meant that the first years would get a crash course of the most important skills required for that regiment, and a general taste of what it was like to work for them. Hopefully then the cadets would continue in the cadet corps with a more fully-formed idea of which regiment they were aiming for at the end of their three years, and could work the on specific skills with that destination in mind.

The week's coaching would consist of five days one to one tuition with a veteran soldier, observed by an instructor from the local cadet corps who would grade the batches of trainees at the end of each day, followed by a sixth day of written work and overview lectures of what they'd learned.

Obviously Commander Erwin had jumped at this opportunity - the earlier they got in to charm the cadets and 'sell' the survey corps to them, the more new recruits they'd potentially have by the end of their three years training, and they needed every new recruit they could get. With this in mind, they volunteered to trial the programme immediately.

The result being, naturally (as the Special Ops squad were finding was a real habit of theirs), a brand new competition.

Steam practically spewed from the Captain's ears when Eld wiped the board games leaderboard clean, and in place of their draughts championship, had chalked up the four names of the cadets that the squad'd been assigned to coach for the week. The coach with the highest-scoring trainee from the week's assessments won free drinks from the other members for a month, plus bragging rights. When Eld asked the Captain how he felt about the whole thing, he simply scowled, and gave a tired "Tch."

—

Rookie Scoreboard

Day : 0

3pts for highest grade

2pts for 2nd

1pt for 3rd

0pts for last place

Emmett 0

Patricia 0

Marta 0

Wilhelm 0

—

Eld couldn't wait to be victorious.

It was day one, and he was smirking from where he was stood watching Oruo's equipment demonstration for the four scrawny new recruits. Oruo had insisted that he be the one give the initial speech before they split off for one-to one training because he was:

"easily the most qualified and influential soldier of the squad" - he'd then elaborated;

"With my unmatched solo kill count, I'm in the best position to mould and inspire those fresh minds. Mine should be the first face they see as they-bleurghh!"

And so, the games had already begun.

"First things first. What's this?" Oruo spoke haughtily, removing a blade from his blade box and holding it up so it shone in the morning light through the equipment shed's small, high strip of windows.

Eld raised his hand,

"A blade." He said flatly.

"Not - you-" Oruo huffed, already a little flustered, "Yes, clearly it's a blade you blockhead, I meant what kind of blade is this?"

"That's not what you asked."

"Yes it is." Oruo said, a vein moving in his temple.

"No, you said, 'what's this.'" Eld said, repeating Oruo's earlier intonation.

The cadets began to titter and Eld could see that Petra was biting her lip in an attempt to remain professional. Gunther looked less than amused.

"Well I meant what type of blade is this." Oruo bit back, "Anyone? Well not anyone - not you Eld."

Eld put a hand to his chin, "Hmmm. No, I dunno." He replied, smirking. The cadets were outwardly giggling now.

"I said not you!" Oruo raged, "And how can you be second in command if you don't even know what kind of-" He stopped, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, a finger and thumb pressing into the bridge of his nose.

"It's a segmented flesh-paring blade made from the highest quality ultra hard steel. It has low density, meaning it can break easily if it comes into contact with something too hard, but it's lightweight and perfect for use against the titans when two are used together." Gunther said evenly, "Now, please get on with it."

—

Patricia was the name of Petra's cadet. She had huge, round dark brown eyes, a bob of light, mousey hair and she was tiny. Petra had a moment of wondering whether or not they'd been paired because…well…she looked like a younger, less ginger, more freckled version of herself.

If they had been deliberately paired for that reason then it was working, because Petra was determined to show this tiny girl that she could be the best soldier there was.

She grabbed the bewildered soldier's shoulders and stared intensely into her wide young eyes,

"Now Pat- Patricia, I need you to listen to me. …it is Patricia isn't it?"

The now-alarmed cadet blinked and nodded weakly.

"Good. I need you to know that it doesn't matter what they say about you, how weak they think you are, it doesn't matter if you're smaller than them and it certainly doesn't matter that you're a woman. You will be the best, you hear me? You will show them what you're made of. By the end of this week you'll be able to whoop the butt of every single one of those smug asshats and prove to them, and to me, that you are the best."

Her voice took on a frightening fervour as she chanted the following like a mantra;

"Because Rals don't quit. Rals don't give up or get distracted. Rals win. No excuses. Got it?!"

There was an awkward pause, then Patricia coughed lightly and brought a hand to scratch her head,

"Uh…thank you? But I um…really had my heart set on joining the Garrison Regiment, I just need a decent score to pass the-"

"Dammit Pat! Can I call you Pat?"

The girl shrugged.

"You're gonna make me look like a damn screw up if you don't get on board with this right now. Don't make me feel like I'm wasting my time because-"

—

Holy hell. It had only been five minutes and already Petra was laying the fuck in to her cadet in a manner that could only be described as absolutely terrifying. Eld smiled, noting how at odd moments she sounded remarkably like the Captain on one of his bad days.

"Um…sir?" Emmett (Eld's assigned cadet) raised his hand, which Eld found hilarious because each pair were stood separately, "Shouldn't you be yelling at me like that?" He pointed over to Petra and Patricia.

"Huh? Ah no - just ignore them. Although…" He brought a hand to his chin, "I'll level with ya kid. I've got quite a bit riding on you doing well so you gotta knuckle down these next few days - Ok?"

Emmett nodded firmly and saluted diligently, "Sir yes sir!"

"Nice. High-five."

Emmett wasted no time in following that command.

"And," Eld continued, "No more calling me sir. From now on, you must only refer to me as 'The Great Lion of Wisdom', and you will be known as 'The Young Newt of Understanding.'"

"Yes si- I mean - Yes Oh Great Lion of Wisdom!"

Eld gave a pleased nod, this kid and him were gonna be good friends.

—

Rookie Scoreboard

Day : 1

3pts for highest grade

2pts for 2nd

1pt for 3rd

0pts for last place

Newt of Understanding 2

Patricia 1

Marta 3

Wilhelm 0

—

It was day two and Gunther huffed on the morning run through the woods. They were currently last. His cadet, a particularly scrawny blonde kid named Wilhelm was really lagging behind. It was something Gunther couldn't relate to, he'd always found physical training exercises fairly easy, and he'd excelled in almost every area when he'd been in the training corps.

"Hey, cadet." He stopped, waiting for the poor sod to catch up, his overstuffed, weighted backpack wobbling precariously from side to side, in danger of causing the kid to fully topple over.

"Yes sir." The kid coughed and spluttered when he came to rest, his hands on his knees and sweat running off him in streams.

"You…" Gunther began, but the more he looked at the kid; limp blonde fringe plastered to his forehead, the fear in his green eyes, the more his expression softened, and he found his about-to-be aggressive encouragement died on his tongue. Briefly he remembered Petra's trial with the squad, how sickly and exhausted she'd looked on her first ever ten lap sprint, blood pouring from her nose

"Don't push yourself too hard. It's only the second day. We'll build up to it." He said eventually, complete in the knowledge that he was about to lose the squad's ridiculous new competition. Ah well. Some things were more important.

—

Rookie Scoreboard

Day : 2

3pts for highest grade

2pts for 2nd

1pt for 3rd

0pts for last place

Newt of Understanding 5

Patricia 3

Marta 3

Wilhelm 1

—

Oruo was glad for the new cadet training programme. The past three days coaching had been jam-packed from dawn til dusk - great for taking his mind off Lina's brutal dumping.

Oruo didn't get dumped. He was the dumper, not the dumpee.

It wasn't like he was all that sad about it or anything. Life went on.

But…

A rug had been ripped from under him, and much as he would say he was carrying on as though nothing had happened, he was feeling intermittently displaced, as though from time to time he was different person wearing a mask of his own face. And he liked his face. There was no logical reason to cover it up

"We want different things." She'd said, "Our lives just don't line up, and neither do our priorities."

Pfft. Why? Because he wanted to help improve the world and she wanted to lay about on her ass playing pissing darts-

He sighed.

"You aren't a hero Oruo.

She was fucking wrong.

His cadet, Marta, was unusual for a greenhorn. The best of a poor crop yes - and she was more of a hard-ass than Oruo was expecting - but her form was sloppy, and she was being much much too reckless when she executed diving manoeuvres through the trees. Perhaps he was pushing her too hard, after all, she was still just a rookie.

He spoke in his usual lazy way, "When you get out there, you need to really pay attention to your surroundings. Don't get bull-headed now. I've seen it happen over and over again beyond the wall. Remember, you'll be working as part of a team, you don't always have to throw yourself head-first into every situation."

Some trees away he heard Eld scoff, "Oruo, are you for real?! That's literally your biggest problem-"

"Might I make a friendly suggestion, Jinn?" He called out, "Focus on your damn self."

Eld shook his head in disbelief and returned to instructing his cadet.

"Try that hook again Marta. Watch your aim."

Marta lined up her shot, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration, one dark brown eye squinting to help her focus.

"Ready?" Oruo barked, "Fire!"

As he gave the command however, a large crow screeched and took flight from right behind the pair of them and they jumped, Marta haphazardly firing her right hook in a random direction, which jolted her from the branch and she ended up clinging to a nearby tree, a few leaves in her frizzy mass of black hair.

—

Petra was mid-explanation to Patricia which was literally about how to keep balanced between the trees, when she felt her right hook give way, and not a second later found herself dangling upside down like an angry bat, swinging slightly, her scowling face only a couple of metres from the bluebells of the forest floor.

Luckily, because they were training cadets, they were in the shortest section of the woods - the idea being that when falls inevitably happened cadets would probably only break a limb or something and were less likely to die plummeting.

"Sorry Miss."

It was Oruo's cadet, Marta, whose voice sounded in a flat tone. It seemed she had accidentally dislodged Petra's hook and now, in spite of her hard exterior, looked a tad shamefaced when she grumbled the apology. Patricia was giggling uncontrollably in the branches above too.

Miss? Oh she better hope Petra missed when she got up there and-

She was glaring with such intense venom towards Oruo and Marta that she didn't notice the shadow of a man approach her dangling upended frame, stepping through the blossoming bluebells and coming to stop less than a metre from her.

"Were you planning on hanging around all day?"

Petra nearly jumped out of her skin and let out a squeak upon hearing his gravelly voice.

"Careful now - don't piss yourself. That's hardly the the position for it."

There was a shade of a smirk on the Captain's lips as her eyes widened and she blinked dumbly at him a couple of times. She'd been so acutely focused on Patrica the past few days that she'd almost forgotten he was still in and out observing the squad for the week.

"C-captain…" She stuttered lamely.

With the faintest quirk of a brow, he turned and walked away through the lilac-blue flowers.

Great. There she was hoping that he'd somehow forgotten all about that stupid story. She'd been trying to erase her memory of that entire embarrassing evening - which had been proving easy enough now that Eld and Gunther weren't allowed to mention it - and she'd managed to convince herself it wouldn't ever come up again. So much for that. In a puff of smoke, she kissed goodbye to all her secret, steamy bedroom fantasies with the Captain, which now, in light of his comment became all the more unbelievable. Her dalliance with those kinds of thoughts now forever soiled by…herself. Jeez.

She was being too rash. Really, she knew that it didn't matter how much of an embarrassment she was, her heart would always find a way to delude her mind back into that quiet, impossible dream of them between the sheets…

Gosh she was such a hot mess.

—

Rookie Scoreboard ︎

Day : 3

3pts for highest grade

2pts for 2nd

1pt for 3rd

0pts for last place

Newt of Understanding 6

Lil 'P 3

Marta the Rageful 6

Wilhelm loser 3

—

Day four was teaching dummy assembly, which all four members of the squad had protested shouldn't be covered in the week's crash course because it wasn't part of the scout's 'essential' beyond-the-walls skills.

Captain Levi had torn them all down of course; firmly reminding the four of them that the cadets were supposed to be getting an idea of how the regiment functioned in its entirety, not just on an expedition, and that did they think that the rest of the month's work was less important than the days spent on riding out because every single duty you had to undertake as a scout contributed to your ability to survive beyond the wall, and if they couldn't see that then he wasn't sure why he bothered training them in the first place…

Needless to say that shut them up.

Eld scanned the lively workshop.

Wilhelm was hammering up a storm with an enviable focused precision and Gunther was watching him with fervent interest as the weedy blonde kid seemed to be, for the first real time in four days, nailing part of the coaching. Perhaps Wilhelm was more suited to engineering and research, even from the couple of seconds watching Eld could easily envisage him in a squad like Section Commander Hange's in a few year's time.

Marta worked diligently too, and Eld quirked a brow at Oruo's cocksure position, one hand gesturing wildly as he monologued about something, the other on his hip and one foot up on the workbench which was slightly too high for his leg. Eld momentarily considered shouting at him to see if he could make him lose his balance.

Then Petra…well, Eld and Petra seemed to have a shared problem of their own.

"Hey - Newt of Understanding." Eld grumbled, "I'm talking to you - Emmett."

Apparently their cadets were super horny for each other, which meant that Eld's initially great relationship with Emmett was quickly deteriorating as the kid had started increasingly chasing Patricia around saying all kinds of dorky shit in an attempt to make her laugh. Eld could only be half-mad of course, he saw a lot of himself at that age in the boy.

"Emmett."

The kid snorted at Patrica, who'd stuck out her tongue at him from the adjacent workbench in a teasing, childish manner.

"Stop your darn flirting and listen."

"Oh - sorry si- Lion of Wisdom."

"You've nailed this arm on backwards. See?"

"…uh…right."

"Listen kid, don't make me have to start calling you The Young Newt of Lust. It doesn't have the same ring to it."

From the next bench, Patricia giggled girlishly and Emmett smirked. Eld instantly stood into Emmett's eye line,

"I mean it." Then he lowered his tone, "You wanna know what really impresses the ladies…?"

Emmett nodded over-keenly.

"When you come back from beyond the wall with some titan-kills under your belt. Now get hammering, don't make me tell you again."

—

Petra caught Eld's eye and shook her head. Neither of them were ready to be parents and yet, here they were, like neighbours with teenage kids, wading through some smog of adolescent hormones desperately trying to pry the two apart. The concentration of both Patricia and Emmett had sharply declined over the past couple of days as they dallied around one another under the guise that no-one else could see their smiles and winks.

"Pat!" God she sounded exasperated, "Pat! For the love of the walls, Pay Attention!"

Petra'd basically given up at this point; the girl was clearly not interested in the scouts even one iota, as she was now doing some kind of sexy dance with a saw for Emmett's benefit.

"Is that meant to be enticing?" Petra snapped, "I've seen titans more appealing than that. Get it together!"

—

Idiot Scoreboard ︎

Day : 4

3pts for highest grade

2pts for 2nd

1pt for 3rd

0pts for last place

Newt of fucking lust 6

Lil Tease ︎ 4

Marta the Rageful 8

Wilhelm loser WINNER 6

eld sUckS ︎

fuck off oruo

—

By day five of the new training programme, the squad had seemed to finally realise the extreme limitations of their trainees as Levi suspected they might. He wasn't sure what they were expecting, the brats were only first years, barely out of their shitty nappies. Most of them could scarcely stay upright for more than ten minutes when using the ODM gear, and they certainly couldn't wield blades while doing it. He'd been forced to hear his squad excessively bitch and whine about it the past few evenings - so much so that he'd ended up spending the last two back in his office to escape.

He froze, flipping open a file of recent reports. On the top of the neatly stacked documents was a torn out page from a crossword book, with all the answers filled in except for one:

Credit on tax to obtain a dress accessory? (6 letters)

Where the clue overlapped with others it read:

_ _ A _ _ T

…hm.

There had been very little that denoted Petra's returned presence to his office when he'd been away in Mitras.

He'd spent more time than he'd care to admit to scouring the room for any evidence of her, after all, order and cleanliness of his personal spaces was of the utmost importance to him.

That was good enough excuse to momentarily delude himself with. Not that it wasn't true, just…

…

So far he'd found traces of her in some small, boring ways; the odd book that had been replaced on the shelf in a slightly different place, the sticks of wax specifically for sealing letters no longer ordered by colour…but none of these things was really worthy of a mention to her. He'd even gone so far as running how those conversations might go in his head, and felt like a dumbass.

He begrudgingly realised that what he was really looking for, what he actually wanted to find was a reason to chastise her, for the pair of them to somehow acknowledge her sudden absence from assisting him with his paperwork all those months ago. It was the child in him feeling abandoned once again, and it was pathetic that he still thought about it this much.

But here…a puzzle, likely from the very book he bought her last year, left in such a deliberate place that he would have to come across it one day soon. It was clearly intentional, why else tear the page out and leave a clue blank like that?

He stared at it for a long time, unsure how to feel.

At length he blew out the final candle and exited his office, returning to the quarters.

It was late, the sun almost completely set as he approached the building, the light from pale to dusky blue in a pleasing gradient across the early-evening sky, when he stopped beside the new sapling, pleased that it was shorter than him, and reached out a hand to its small, feathered leaves.

In the little time it had been planted there, it had already begun to blossom with delicate white blushes of flowers. He played with a leaf, feeling it between his fingers, admiring its shape and newness.

"Do you like it Captain?"

A sidewards glance brought her into view, burdened with a stack of firewood a metre or so away. She placed the logs on the ground and dusted off her hands, a hopeful smile lighting up her face.

"It's a Rowan Tree - the tree of life. It's a tradition in my village to plant them in spring for protection, courage and wisdom. I figured some members of our squad could do with a little wisdom now and then sir." Petra giggled, and the breeze softly stirred her bangs.

He could have stopped her, told her Oruo had already told him all this, but it had been so long since she'd spoken to him so freely, offering her numerous thoughts like so many spring flowers blooming all at once, and he found that he wanted to listen, even though there remained a quality of surface-level friendliness about her.

"Anyway, I hope you don't mind it sir. In autumn it produces red berries, which make a great jelly to use in a stew, plus they have some medicinal properties for sore throats so it's useful for that reason too."

She was babbling…and…selling the tree to him based off of its practicality? Perhaps she knew him better than he thought. He returned to examining the leaf, and didn't notice her approach him until she was beside him plucking her own leaf from the sapling, still chattering,

"The legend goes that the leaves are feathers from the wings of a bird owned by one of the goddesses, and the red berries are the drops of blood shed when the bird is injured searching the world as it gathers things for her. See how the leaves really look like tiny feathers? It makes me think of the wings of the scouts crest. I think it's beautiful."

She was always so thoughtful, so full of hope.

He took a deep breath and immediately felt off. She was stood right next to him and yet, rather than her usual scent of soft vanilla, there was a vaguely floral scent instead, rose, perhaps. His jaw tightened.

When he glanced over to her, though she hadn't picked up on his shift, she seemed uneasy, her eyes grazing the grass at their feet.

"I'm sorry sir, this probably isn't all that interesting and yet here I am blathering away to you after a tiring week." She shook her head silently, then returned to her bundle of firewood, and leant down to pick it up once more. Then she stood awkwardly facing him, once again bundled under the pile of tied together wood.

It quickly dawned on him how strongly his heart was beating, how his temper was rapidly building inside.

Why did she smell different? And who did he think he was, Mike?

"Cravat." He said with barely contained irritation, holding out the rumpled, torn out puzzle page towards her.

Her eyes lightened a touch above the top log of her pile of firewood;

"I know." She gave a small, infuriatingly polite smile, "I just thought you…I thought you'd like that clue. That's all sir."

That's all? Why bother going to that trouble if…

He fought to keep his rising anger inside, hoping she hadn't spotted his breathing which had intensified, and he found he was struggling to keep his chest from moving irregularly.

Why did she suddenly smell like roses? Was it perfume? Perhaps a gift from…

Surely not.

Shit.

He hated it, and he needed to leave before he said something he couldn't take back.

His expression twitched into a dark scowl, and his lip curled,

"Do you think I have the time to spare for your shitty puzzles?" He snapped, hoping that she wouldn't bring up the fact that he'd worked out the answer.

"No sir."

Her face had fallen the smallest amount, but rather than looking upset, she looked like she'd entirely expected his response. She looked troubled, but unsurprised. Something about it riled him even further;

"Don't leave your trash in my office." He growled, flinging the sheet from his hand which fluttered weakly to the ground as he stormed into the barracks.

—

Idiot Scoreboard ︎

Day : please god let it end now

I don't know how much more garbage I can take

3pts for highest gradewho cares

2pts for 2nd no-one that's who

1pt for 3rd no-one cares

0pts for last place sack it off

Newt of fucking lust 8

Lil Tease ︎ 7

Marta the Rageful! 9

Wilhelm loser WINNER whatever 6

Eld "It's about the journey, not the destination" Jinn

eld sUckS ︎

fuck off oruo

—

"I mean, really, my cadet was clearly the best from the offset. Of course I won. Anyone with eyes could have seen that coming - even a blind mole-rat could've seen it-" Oruo blustered, lifting one of his tankards with a swagger.

Aren't all mole-rats blind? Eld thought with a frown.

Oruo had three beers around him, as he'd insisted on claiming a drink from all the other squad members immediately, despite Petra's protests that he'd never manage to drink them all before the ale warmed up too much and became disgusting. The worst thing about it, was that they had to let him brag…as that was part of the prize for winning.

The sixth day had been essentially spent in the large briefing room where the cadet corps instructors ran through with the rookies what they had supposedly learned this week, while the veterans who coached them sat silently bored on the higher benches at the back of the room. Then the cadets had a Q and A with Commander Erwin, which was slightly more entertaining, as they got to watch him try to remain composed in the face of questions such as;

"I heard that if you eat enough onions, the titans stay away from you - is that true?"

And Eld's personal favourite, due to it's complete irrelevance;

"Who would in in a fight between you, Captain Levi…and a bear?"

He shook his head, he was so sure the Lion and the Newt were a shoo-in for the win. He'd even said as much in his most recent letter to Harriet. He couldn't believe he'd let Oruo take the crown, of all people.

"The best cadet? Do you mean tallest? scariest? I know I'm supposed to let you brag but I just think it was too close to call." He muttered sipping his own ale.

"Oruo, your 'cadet' got me cruelly evicted from a tree during my balancing demonstration." Petra groaned.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." Oruo uttered smugly.

"Ok, well I hate both."

"Guys, shut it. He won fair and square. It's not his fault your trainees were so horny." Gunther said measuredly, and Eld was a little irritated that Gunther seemed so ok with this frankly terrible outcome. That guy just had to follow the exact rules of everything.

An hour or so went by and they beer flowed nearly as continually as Oruo's boasting. It had been a while since the squad had gotten drunk so quickly, but their exhausting trial of a week had created a desperate need to blow off steam, and Oruo in particular was now absolutely plastered.

"Well-" He hiccuped, taking another swig, "I feel like that victory was- d-deserved- as the only currently single member of the sp-spa-"

"Of the spa?" Gunther asked, "What spa would that be?"

"Of the - of the spa- spacial operations squad…"

"Wait." Gunther (ignoring the term 'spacial operations squad') hit a hand on the table, serious concern etched into his features, "Single? What about Lina?"

Oruo did a lazy, drunken hand-gesture, "Gone…poof! In a puff of smoke."

"She's missing?" Petra asked, a little scared.

"No! No she dumped me…" Oruo stated with a dark resolve.

The table fell quiet.

Eld, Gunther and Petra slumped back in their chairs, dumbstruck and all at once very bothered.

For the first time Eld felt glad that Oruo had won the competition.

"I'm sorry man."

Gunther's brows twitched, "Shit…that sucks."

"Oruo that's - why didn't you say anything?" Petra's eyes sparkled with sympathy, and she leant a little across the table towards him.

"The reason I d-din't say anything is because I just did say anything." He replied, slurring a little.

The squad managed to piece together what had happened from the scraps of coherence within Oruo's next few sentences. They'd been fighting for weeks with increasing frequency and drifting apart. Eld didn't want to say that he'd noticed. Lina had once been so warm to all of them, but lately they hadn't seen her very much. When they had seen her, she'd said almost nothing. Eld had just assumed she was going through a bad time personally.

"Hey hold on a minute." Petra interjected, "You said you were the only single member of the squad…but what about me?"

The three men groaned.

"What?" Her face was beginning to flush pink.

Eld put a hand on her shoulder, "Half-pint, you're wearing perfume Bert bought you right now."

She blinked, "…perfume's expensive, it would have been rude to reject it."

"Come on Red." Gunther said tiredly, his chin falling heavily into his hand, "I thought you were smarter than that."

"You t-think he bought you perfume as a friend Petra? D-don't make me laugh. Ha!" Oruo went to slap his thigh and missed.

Eld frowned, "Yeah man. I'm pretty much your biggest fan - and I mean no offence by this but, no way I'd splash that kinda cash on ya. That's gotta be a couple months wages at least. Besides, you went on a date with him right? And I've seen the pair of you chatting after band sometimes."

Petra's expression descended into one of alarm and her hands began to fidget, "Well - yeah…b-but I…"

Eld squeezed her shoulder, "You're good. Don't worry about it."

"Right. You just have to have an honest conversation with him. Let him know where your head's at." Gunther offered.

"If you're not feeling it then you're not feeling it." Eld added, "Unless…" he quirked a brow, "You are feeling it?"

—

Petra was completely still, staring at the table and blinked flatly a couple of times,

"No…I'm not."

Lord. She was such an idiot. Perhaps she was being deliberately dense because she needed the distraction from the Captain; but she didn't actually want any kind of romantic relationship with Bert. He was lovely, but that was it, he was a good friend. A good friend who hung around her at every free opportunity, who bought her perfume, and who had even begun sitting with the Special Ops squad in the mess hall at lunch sometimes.

Oh…god.

She was using the poor guy. How had it taken the squad to show her that? Wait - hadn't Hannah and Jules had said the exact same thing to her before this month's tavern quiz? Had everyone seen it apart from her?

It was against her nature to stifle her feelings. Petra always wore her heart on her sleeve but…since she'd been concealing the true nature of her admiration for her Captain, maybe she'd changed a bit. And now it was affecting how she was treating this very sweet, very tall man.

Of course she couldn't just tuck those unrequited feelings of hers away and expect to carry on as normal. Once one apple went off, the others quickly followed suit, even if they were in the picture of ripeness beforehand.

She glugged her ale. God. She'd have to have a talk with Bert as Gunther suggested.

—

Idiot Scoreboard ︎

Day :

We're out of tea

- Cpt Levi

—

Notes:

crossword solve!

Credit on tax to obtain a dress accessory? (6 letters)

Here the definition is at the end of the clue 'dress accessory'.

Credit is often abbreviated to 'cr' and tax is often referred to as 'VAT'. So we have 'Cr' on 'VAT' to obtain 'a' (to obtain here meaning to put in the middle - literally the other two parts obtain an 'a') which gives 'Cravat'.

Theres a couple homages in this one too -

the small scene where Oruo and Eld are having a back and forth about 'blades' is a homage to Green Wing - the show that partly inspired the title of pt 1

when Oruo says: "The reason I d-din't say anything is because I just did say anything." Is a ref to Dwight from the US office

thanks again for reading along, it feels like a rough old time for a lot of people right now so hope ur all doing good! i have bitten off way more than i can chew with the update sched sadly. heres to hoping things chill out soon. 3

Chapter 7: A Waste of Taxpayer Money (mini chapter)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"It's always so loud in here." Harriet sighed. In her hand she held up a glass containing a small amount of red wine.

Eld glanced across the little room. The pokey tavern was called the 'Coach & Horses' due to it being by the gate in the wall where travellers often passed through. It was certainly loud and bustling, mainly with Garrison soldiers, but the were also several MP's dotted around.

It was his fault they'd had to come here. They simply wouldn't have enough time together if he'd had to journey further into Trost and find somewhere to put his horse, and the stables here at the gates allowed soldiers to leave their horses there for free.

He gave her an apologetic smile as he ran a hand slowly through his loose hair. He'd taken it out of it's regular bun because he knew she especially liked it. It was one of his 'moves'.

"Oh - stop that." She tittered, placing a hand on his leg and shaking her head.

He feigned innocence, hand suddenly scratching his head, eyes off to the side,

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

She leant in to him and tweaked his nose, "You know exactly what you're doing, and I hate that it works every time."

He smiled warmly, grabbing her free hand and planting a quick kiss on it.

"Have you thought any more about where you'd wanna go?" He asked.

"Hmmm. What about Orvud?" She suggested, twisting her lips in thought, "I've never been."

"Don't know much about it." He replied, "Though it's quite a long way to go given the short time. To be honest I'm not sure it's smart to spend more than two days travelling either side - we should be making the most of it."

Eld'd had to request his honeymoon week off in January, and it still took until mid-March until it was formally approved. Being a member of the Special Ops squad had many perks, including earning just about enough that they no longer had to stay in the absolute cheapest accommodation, but it also meant it was much much harder to get any days off that weren't pre-determined military holidays and seasonal festivals, and so Eld was going to make sure that they made the very most of the only-just-authorised time.

He hadn't been getting to see Harriet much either, and he'd been so busy that he'd left a lot of the preparation for their wedding to her and the parents, which was inevitable with his job, but he nonetheless felt incredibly guilty about it. It was partly why he'd ridden out in the early afternoon so he could meet her in person at Trost today, where she was visiting family.

"You're right. More than one day's travel each way would be too much." Harriet replaced her wine glass on the small table - well - dirty old barrel that had been turned onto its flat side.

Eld made to giver her a refill, only to find that their bottle was empty. He gave the bottle a final little shake over the empty glass and watched with disappointment when only a single drop fell from it.

"Nuts. I'll get us another one."

"Are you sure? You've got a long ride back to the grounds later."

"Heck yes I'm sure. Feels like I hardly ever get to see you. I'll take the Captain's shit with a smile tomorrow morning when I remember drinking this cheap ass wine with you." He winked, stood and a made his way towards the bar, but not before he'd caught the grateful twinkle in her beautiful cerulean eyes.

It wasn't quite possible to get to the bar yet for the line of people already standing at it. He huffed, a little frustrated that this wait was eating into his very limited time with his fiancé, then briefly considered stealing a pre-opened bottle from a distracted table and taking it back to her. That would save a bob or two…although she definitely wouldn't approve of him doing that…

A gratingly loud, uppity sounding voice cut through the bar chatter;

"I for one back it wholeheartedly. Everyone has their 'boyfriend in the scouts' phase - if for nothing else than the cheap thrill of it. I'm glad you got it out of your system before it all ended in tears."

Eld's ears pricked up.

Everyone has their what now?

It didn't take him long to pick out the culprits. A small huddle of MP's stood not a metre away by the bar, some leaning on it, some stood behind them.

"From what I hear it did end in tears for the scout." A curly-haired, red-faced man snarked.

"A small part of me feels sorry for him." A tall woman with cropped black hair said snootily, "If I realised I'd made such poor life choices as joining the scouts I'd bawl my eyes out too."

The first man, a sandy-haired, stouter MP obnoxiously added, "Was he the idiot that couldn't stop biting his tongue?"

Eld could feel his blood pressure rising, a feeling he rarely got when he was inside the walls. A scout who infamously bit his tongue? Come on.

It was at the point he noticed Lina's short brown bob stood with her back to him in the small huddle.

He heard her laugh sharply,

"All the time. I was like 'my word; this is getting old', and then I realised it wasn't a joke, that was just him."

These motherfuckers.

The curly haired man sneered, "What a fucking buffoon."

The tall woman gave a lofty laugh, "You've dodged a bullet there."

"He said he graduated high enough to be an MP - we all dodged a bullet."

"I wonder how he'll fare on their next little trip over the wall." The stout man declared, "I'd bet three silvers that he'll be so torn up about the break up that he'll freak out and starting crying, then bite the du-"

The MP stopped at the sound of Eld's slow clap as he approached the group.

"Wow." Eld uttered darkly.

The stout MP raised his chin,

"And you are…?" He inquired witheringly.

Eld simply waited for Lina to turn around. A part of him expected to bask in the pure horrified dismay on her newly ashen cheeks (it took her a moment to recognise him, hair down and in his civilian clothes) but he found in reality that the moment held no enjoyment whatsoever, and realised just how irate he was.

His eyes flitted back to the stout sandy-haired MP,

"Just an interested party," He said, keeping his wrath at a simmer (he was always cool, calm and collected), "wondering why a bunch of MP assholes drinking on duty think it's ok to talk trash about someone they know nothing about."

The dark haired woman smirked and the curly haired MP gave a mocking "Oooh!"

Lina said nothing, but her face was the picture of guilt, she wouldn't meet Eld's eye and she was so rigidly still she could have been knocked to the ground with a single flick.

The stout MP took a step towards Eld. He was shorter, but nonetheless exuded a combative, overconfidence that might have been threatening if Eld wasn't so used to being intimidated by a short, scary man.

"Oh dear. Looks like I've found one of those titan-fuckers from the scout regim-"

"Sam stop-" Lina interrupted, her voice barely audible.

"Don't worry, I've got it." Sam's voice was smooth with hateful ridicule, "What's this angry overgrown broom gonna do? Force me to enlist to their pointless, waste of taxpayer money, sorry excuse for a military regiment?"

"Nah, the scouts wouldn't take a blockhead like you. Dignity is part of the essential criteria." Eld derided, unmoving from his position.

Sam sneered, bearing his teeth, moving his angry face closer to Eld's and hissing,

"Faux-heroes - the lot of you." Spittle was landing on Eld's cheeks, "You think you're so valiant riding out beyond the wall - but let me tell you something asshole: you all die screaming and shitting yourselves, wishing you'd done my job. No exceptions. Not you, nor that curly-haired big-tongued twat."

Eld's brown eyes flashed, "Go ahead and tell yourself that if it helps you sleep at night. But your delusions won't protect you if Wall Rose is breached. Where will you go then? Good luck bribing the titans to stop eating ya."

"Eld?"

Harriet.

Eld paused, catching her willowy figure in his periphery. She looked worried. He took a step back.

Bar fighting wasn't his style anyhow. With a deep, regulating breath, he turned away and began walking over to her.

"That's it, run off with your tail between your legs." Sam barked.

The curly-haired MP bayed, "Yeah - If you love it beyond the wall so much, next time just fucking stay there - you and your tongue-biting clown of a boyfriend."

Eld snorted, whipping around,

"For your information I'd be honoured to have someone as driven as Oruo Bozad for a boyfriend. He's a good man with a good heart who looks out for people. He gives his all towards making this world a better place, which is more than I can say for any of you." He eyed Lina, "What a way to treat someone who loved you. Have fun bitching and drinking away taxpayer money. Wouldn't you say that's the real waste?"

Maybe he'd been too harsh. He saw the tears brimming in Lina's eyes and she looked away, her hands shaking a little. With another deep breath through his nose, he pressed his lips together in a hard line. He was in danger of feeling sorry for her.

"Lets get out of here." He muttered to Harriet, before guiding her towards the door. Her face was etched with the same concern as when they parted before an expedition, and she gripped his hand too firmly, perhaps, he thought, to dissuade him from turning around again.

"Get a fucking haircut!" Sam shouted after them.

"What happened?" Harriet whispered as they pushed through the tavern door in to the welcome open space and fresh air of the street. The tavern patrons' horses were tied up outside in a stirring line.

"Nothing." Eld muttered, frowning, "Just ran into a bunch of entitled cunts."

The horses snorted in understanding.

Notes:

next main chapter should be next sunday!

Chapter 8: The Way the Cookie Crumbles

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

May

May's clearer weather meant that the squad's sparring sessions were moved outdoors from their usual location of the small gym. The sky was blue, the sun bright and birds were singing. Spring was Petra's favourite season, because it felt like the season of hope; the season of potential, and who were the scouts if not agents of change - seekers of a new dawn? Also it was an opportunity to see the Captain's bare arms in broad daylight.

It wasn't hot per se, but they'd all put on their matching black vest tops - it wouldn't take them long to break a sweat once they began sparring.

"Listen up."

Captain Levi stood in the middle of a rope ring several metres in diameter placed on the freshly cut grass.

"Today's session will be different."

The squad side-eyed one another.

"You'll be sparring against me. As a group."

A ripple of raised eyebrows ran through the line of them. The Captain cocked his head,

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

The squad were a flurry of flitted looks, then they instantly saluted perfectly in time;

"Yes sir!"

Before spreading evenly around the edges of the large rope circle.

Well this was interesting. Petra supposed it was a good measure of their teamwork skills and an opportunity to gauge their improvement; hers especially. The Captain had been teaching her to spar one on one for a time, but the past month or so they'd gone back to cycling around everyone. She took it as a good sign, that now she was good enough that she wouldn't embarrass him. On one occasion in hand to hand combat against Eld, she'd actually managed to sock him in the jaw, and caught the Captain's subtle nod of approval from across the gym…which caused her heart to skip a beat.

Not today though. She wasn't going to be distracted by his perfectly sculpted arms, his strong legs, his toned abs in the tight vest, nor the droplets of sweat rolling down his neck. When she clocked the razor-sharp lines of his chin and cheekbones, the adorable point of his little nose, she wouldn't lose focus. And if she caught his stormy eyes, ever-intense under his thin, glowering brow, beautiful behind his inky bangs…she would concentrate on the next best move, because that was what he needed from her.

He was so darn fast.

The second the squad jumped inside the rope to begin the spar, the Captain turned and sprinted with terrifying directness towards Eld. He was half the size, but he punched Eld so hard in the stomach that the taller man was instantly winded and doubled over, then expelled the blonde from the ring with a powerful kick. The three remaining squad members grit their teeth, sweat forming across their foreheads in beads while Eld lolled about on the grass, groaning.

Petra pursed her lips. Darn it. He knew that they'd be relying on Eld to give signals and keep them together, so he'd taken him out instantly. That was the thing about the Captain, he was famous for his physical prowess, but the reason for his success was that he was always thinking.

"Use your brain. You don't wanna die? Think."

He'd said it time and time again, with most frequency when they were beyond the wall.

Think, Petra. Use your head.

She darted out of his eye-line and gestured to Gunther: 'swap positions'. She knew Gunther'd caught her meaning. Oruo spotted it too, and took the initiative to run towards the Captain as a distraction, which she was grateful for. After their week of training cadets last month, Oruo's signature egotistical recklessness had diminished significantly; now he would generally try and listen to the movements of the group before spiralling off to 'take care of things' on his own.

She was planning on a rear attack and began running at him from some metres away, but the Captain had instantly read the manoeuvre. He was always several steps ahead - literally in this case too, as Petra couldn't even make it near him before he'd spun and knocked Oruo to the ground then revolved to be face-to-chest with Gunther, where the two men locked arms. Oruo griped as he lamely got back to his feet, and Petra still wasn't close enough by the time Captain Levi outmanoeuvred Gunther and managed to push him so he stumbled back several steps. The Captain span to her in challenge, and she stopped in her tracks.

Apprehensive, the three squad members re-set themselves surrounding him.

He jutted his chin, which wasn't nearly as provoking as the fact that not a single hair on his head was out of place. Petra almost wanted to smirk; he'd clearly used his calm demeanour to goad people many times before in such a setting. They were still soldiers, and they had too much pride not to fall for it.

Then, for two solid minutes the Captain evaded the three of them; predicting every punch and kick, ducking and weaving but throwing no attacks of his own. Petra made a noise of irritation - this was classic, he was tiring them out.

Think.

She stopped throwing punches, and instead danced around in the same way, mirroring him, offering no attacks. He immediately noticed the change, and his eyes glued to her curiously, all the while still evading the errant arms and legs of the other two men.

He clairvoyantly ducked a split second before Gunther's weighted punch, which instead soared over his head and smacked Oruo hard in the jaw, who went instantly flying from the ring with an elongated "Blaaaaaaarrrghh". The sound tailed off comically as Oruo flew further away, landing in a heap by Eld. It was at that point Petra realised that in his evasion of their attacks, he'd been slowly moving the group towards the rope to make ousting them easier.

"Shit." Gunther looked panicked as the Captain promptly turned and kicked him in the gut sending him sailing back towards the centre of the ring.

Petra saw her opening. As his leg came down from his brutal kick, she appeared behind and tripped him so he fell backwards, but not before he'd grabbed her arm and dragged her down too.

She was not going to be distracted.

She was not going to be distracted.

Except…she was currently straddling her Captain. Oh hell.

She was leant over him, frozen, the tips of her ginger bob were almost grazing his cheeks as she stared, astonished into his grey eyes; the awkwardness of the their position having thrown her so much that she found, though internally screaming at herself to move, to get the hell off him for Maria's sake, none of her muscles were responding. Sickeningly, she realised that her strongest urge was to squeeze her thighs to feel him between them more intensely, to sit back fully onto him. Just as the warm tingling of desire began seeping, sap-like through her, his brow scrunched sharply, and grabbing firmly onto her shoulders, he cast her off him to the side and she rolled along the grass, dazed.

By the time she'd collected herself and got back up, Captain Levi and Gunther were again engaged in a fierce scrap. Gunther was trying to catch her eye, vexed that she'd left him to fight alone for so long. She shot him an apologetic look, and with one hand sliding under her vest across her chest, ran at the pair, just as Gunther was solidly booted from the ring.

The Captain span to her, readying a punch, but then instantly froze in place.

At the end of her outstretched arm, the point of Petra's short, blunted knife was gently pressing into his Adam's apple. It moved a little with his shallow gulp.

"You never know if your opponent will be armed, sir." She said, panting.

His slate-grey eyes pierced hers, unfaltering, as his upper body gradually relaxed and he slowly raised his hands in surrender.

"Good." He said quietly. His eyes lingered.

Their small moment was broken by the raucous cheering of the guys outside of the ring. Petra dropped the knife from his neck, and laughed with relief.

"Where the hell d'you get that?" Oruo called over, scratching his head.

Petra beamed, "I sewed a pocket into my sports bra." Then she caught Eld's eye, "Guess that's what you'd call a booby-trap!"

There he was. The gangly bastard, leaning over her breathing his filthy-trash breath into her perfect-angel face.

Levi sneered.

At what point would that be considered an invasion of her personal space? At what point could he traverse the tavern floor and yell?

He gazed down into his amber whiskey, back up to her matching hair, eyes, and her delicate expression which showed polite but obvious hints of resistance to the lanky asshole's efforts.

"Tch."

This was messed up. It were as though everyone else in the room was faceless, a blur of muted colours, and yet there she was, glowing amongst the masses, the only thing he cared about in the vicinity and the only reason he was at the tavern at all. It was unlike him - the band weren't playing and he was sure he had stacks of paperwork to get through. Just last night Erwin had been on his ass about being late with it again. Being here was foolish. He should leave.

He placed the still-full drink down, ready to make for the exit, when a long, uninvited arm bridged that space he'd had his eye on, that space he'd been measuring to the centimetre in his mind, the only remaining space between Petra and his current nemesis. The unnatural arm, like a bony tree branch spanned the gap, and a skeletal hand wrapped it's twig-like fingers about her forearm, squeezing the muscle, massaging her silken skin with despicable confidence. How could such a hand look both tacky with sweat and bone cold…it was a horror that defied the laws of reality.

The tall man threw his head back and laughed, a guttural guffaw honking through the space, somehow louder than the rest of the tavern combined as it pulsed through the room, irritating the hairs on the back of Levi's neck. Then from her, a tiny pull, the most minuscule gesture of rejection - a genteel smile, but the brows, the eyes gave it away; they screamed 'get off, take your hand away'. The tall man must have been blind that he couldn't read it - a damn baby could have picked up on that simple signal. Instead, he'd tightened his hateful grip on her.

Something inside snapped.

Levi didn't even feel himself pick up the tumbler of whiskey, only saw the glass instantly shatter on the vertical wooden beam just behind the bastard's head; amber liquid splattering like a flicked paintbrush over his white shirt. The tall man looked ever-more cadaverous as Levi approached, smashing him square in the face to the sickening crunch of a surely broken nose.

…that motion returned to him with frightening ease.

"C-captain!" Petra cried out, but Levi had to wipe the blood drops from his knuckles with his handkerchief first, grimacing.

"Let's go." He mumbled, lip curling as he noticed she'd bent down to check if the man was ok.

She was too good for her own good.

"Petra." He urged, "Get up. We're going. Don't make me carry you." He rolled his neck.

"But sir…" She looked up at him with those round, pleading, unnaturally sparkling eyes.

"Damn it." He spat, hoisting her up over his shoulders and she gasped, for a moment completely frozen by his brazen gesture; then he could hear her protests - but they were quiet, as though they were coming from another room. With a backwards glance to the tall, unconscious body that lay part-crumpled against the bar, he tossed the bloodied handkerchief with flippant disdain.

The next thing he knew he'd kicked open the door to his room, where he flung her unceremoniously onto his bed and she lightly bounced with the force of his throw, her orange eyes wide open in awe as she nervously stabilised herself.

Her small, clean hands propped up her torso from behind and her knees bent along the bed in front of her, legs and skirts settling between the folds of his bedcovers as though she belonged there, which she did. Ginger hair dishevelled from his unrefined hauling of her through the night, lips slightly parted and her bosom heaving within her tight corset; she said nothing, and though a part of him wished she would speak, she seemed wholly comfortable, if startled. Resting just below her cleavage were the ends of the red corset lace - so invitingly tied into a relaxed bow, so easily undone as one might unwrap an outlandish gift. He imagined slowly unravelling the lace as he unravelled his humanity, descending into animal madness.

He closed the door firmly behind him, and stood for a moment, dropping his gaze and taking in the splits and speckles in the wooden floorboards. His throat was stuck.

"Why did you do that…" She was still, and her voice quietly wavered. The question wasn't a question.

Eyes up, blood hot in his veins, he powered towards to her, and in a transcendent second found himself pressed against such curves he'd only dreamt of, his hand urging her into him ever closer from the arch of her back, as he fell between her ruffled skirts and her semi-supine legs. Unthinking, he launched his lips against hers, hard, strong, and felt her dissolve beneath him with a warming "mmm…"

—

"Mmm…"

Petra hummed aloud curiously.

This was the last place she could think of that he might be.

The door to the Captain's office stood in front of her, the final frontier. The squad had split up to search for him when he didn't turn up to the ODM run first thing. The Captain always told them when he wouldn't be training with them, and though they considered starting without him, something about it didn't sit right with the group, and Eld made the decision that they search for him and meet back in an hour.

The office was her final stop. Taking an apprehensive breath, she knocked lightly.

"Captain?" She inquired.

No response.

"Captain? Sir - are you in there?"

—

"Captain…" She moaned, her voice breathless with lust as he thrust mightily into her, losing his senses as their naked bodies writhed atop the white duvet. He'd wash it when they were done.

He groaned weakly feeling her quivering slickness, her legs squeezing tighter and tighter around his back as she yearned for that glorious friction. That tall fucker would never know this.

"Sir - are you in there?"

He stopped, his ragged breath falling in heavy pants across her ecstasy-glazed eyes. The damn hell did she mean? Of course he was-

"Huh?" He gruffly croaked, his mind drowning in new confusion, though he quickly surfaced as she giggled, biting her lip, urging him with her hips, legs and eyes to move once more. It didn't take much for him to comply.

—

The door remained still and silent in front of her; rigid, stubborn. Petra internally mused that it reflected him in that way.

With a low, steady sigh, she grasped the brass handle, shyly turning it; there was a fairly strong chance that he'd bark something at her within the next three seconds…

How wrong she was.

Under the streaming morning light from the large back window he was sat at the desk, a sleeping semi-silhouette. His left arm was bent, providing a low pillow for his head, which was tilted sideways leaning on it. His right arm was stretched further forward along the desk, pen still loosely in his grasp, which had bled out into the parchment beneath leaving an unsightly ink puddle. Either side of him, stacks of papers rising nearly to the height of his head sat in two demanding piles.

A smile blossomed across her face. It appeared that her lungs simply weren't big enough to take in the amount of oxygen required to process the adorable rarity of what she was seeing.

The Captain didn't sleep, that was a well known fact among the scouts; yet here he was, perfectly at rest, his expression utterly unburdened, silent and peaceful. If it weren't for the slightest movements of his chest and shoulders, she might have had to check his pulse.

For one glorious moment she considered that she might be the first scout to see him in such a manner. And now she had to break the spell…

"…Captain…"

She licked her lips anxiously.

"Captain Levi - sir?"

She realised through the feeble tone of her own voice that she didn't want to wake him. It would be too cruel. Here, he was so serene, so untroubled and young. Who knew what he was dreaming about?

—

"Captain Levi - sir!" She cried, droplets of sweat forming on her forehead, bending her back to press her beaded nipples up into his chest as she screamed out in pleasure, the sound better than any music the dumb band could ever play - better than any band could ever play. He would throw himself into the jaws of a titan if it meant he got to hear her say his name like that again.

—

Petra edged towards the desk to get a closer look of his resting expression, when his eyelashes fluttered lightly, causing her breath to hitch.

"Mmm." He mumbled softly.

She was deathly still, completely unsure what to do. What if he woke right now? He'd be mad, definitely - but worse than that, she didn't want to be the reason that he lost valuable sleep. Guilt swam through her; had she been assisting him with his paperwork as before, he might not be so behind now, and he might not have been so exhausted that he missed drills.

After a second standing in thought, she tip-toed and leant across the desk, wincing as she eased a clean sheet of parchment from the pile as quietly as possible. When he didn't so much as twitch, and she thanked the goddesses with a look to the ceiling - she was blessed today.

Continuing her quiet hurry, she picked up a spare pen from the pot (her own pen she realised) and scribbled a brief note letting him know that the Commander had already told the squad that their Captain wouldn't be at drills today, due to an overload of paperwork, and that they were training at ODM run one without him. She'd tell the squad something similar.

Her hand shook as she signed it, but she figured, so long as she made it out of his office now before he woke up, that he'd likely appreciate the gesture.

—

Her hands shook as they caressed his undercut and he brushed her jaw with his lips in light kisses, one of his hands trailing slowly down to that sensitive spot between her thighs. She deserved to feel the best it was possible to feel: he had to show her the brightness she showed to everyone else, somehow. By her euphoric response, he was sure she appreciated the gesture.

—

Eyes darting across the busy desk (though still as neat as it could be given the amount of assignments), Petra wondered on the best spot for her note. Too close seemed a little intrusive - she would have had to get right up to him while he was sleeping (which, if nothing else, was dangerous) but too far away and he might not find it among all the documents.

She held the slip of paper over the desk, moving over different points to visualise it in each spot-

"There…" His low, dulcet tone, almost a whisper, sounded.

Her eyes widened and a shiver ran through her.

Could he see what she was doing?

Surely not. A coincidence, nothing more. But…what on earth was he dreaming about?

There…

There was something strangely sensual about it.

…

Gosh, that was really screwed up.

Here she was perving on him while he was asleep; she never thought she was the type. She bit down on her lip, hard. It was time to go, before her thoughts continued in that unsavoury direction. Placing the new note directly in the centre of the desk where it had been when he mumbled, she gave him a speedy nod, before shuffling as silently and quickly as possible from the room and closing the door behind her, vowing to not speak of what she'd witnessed to anyone.

—

"Mmm…Pet…"

Levi awoke to the faint gruffness of his own voice. He was dazed to the yellow morning sunlight bouncing off the dark wooden furniture of his office and his dream was slipping from him like quicksilver.

Dregs of something remained…a warmth and softness…voices…a…glow…a…?

He didn't know.

His eyelids were heavy and tingles swirled their way about him. He felt…remarkably content, and he wished he knew why. It was a curious feeling that he wasn't at all used to. Maybe this was what more than two hours sleep felt like.

Grumbling, he stirred and rubbed his eyes, noticing a new scrap of paper in the middle of the desk; he picked it up and scanned it wearily.

Shit. He'd overslept.

It wasn't often they got a day off on a Friday, but it also wasn't that often that scouts got married, and so the Commander (being something of a romantic) had written out a special permission for the whole squad and some senior officers for the occasion. For Gunther however, it didn't feel like a day off at all.

"Flowers? Wouldn't you be better off sorting out flowers?"

Oruo, rather than heading straight to Blooming Susan's Lazy Daises as he was instructed, was just about keeping up with Gunther who was marching at speed through the bustling market, and was nipping at him like a yappy jack-russell.

"What makes you say that." Gunther scowled, unamused.

"You're always picking bunches of them after drills in the woods, I've seen you. You have 'the eye'."

What the hell was that meant to mean? Surely Oruo wasn't complimenting him? A bead of sweat was forming at Gunther's temple. There wasn't time for this.

"Haven't you been to a wedding before?" He snipped back, "You don't have to pick out the flowers, Harriet and Eld's parents already did that - you only have to pick them up from the shop and get them to the chapel."

"Pfft. Maybe they should have let us do it. We both have 'the eye' after all; I'm sure we'd have done a much better job of selecting the arrangements."

"You just said that I should do it instead of you!" Gunther barked.

He stopped abruptly in the middle of the road, and a few idle shoppers turned their heads. Surely a man who routinely fought fifteen metre high monsters would be able to control his stress levels about a darned wedding better than this…but, shit, this was important! It was the first time he'd been given so much responsibility by a friend and hell would freeze over before he screwed it up.

He glared at Oruo, who slowly raised his brows, unsure how to react.

He continued yelling, "I can't-", then stopped, his shining eyes boring into Oruo's small, affronted hazel ones. It wasn't often Gunther raised his voice at anyone when they were within the walls, and even the man himself was aware that it was scarier than most would anticipate.

Then, his jaw tightening, returned to an acceptable volume, "I can't fuck this up - alright? Go to the darn flower shop. I'll see you at the chapel."

Oruo blinked, and crossed his arms dismissively, "Fine."

The dough was almost right, it looked like soft sand, a little crumbly; ready for kneading then rolling out.

Petra hummed quietly to herself as she squashed it together and placed it on the countertop to knead, the odd crumb falling onto the work surface. She was excited for everyone to taste her family recipe, and it had been a long time since she'd found the time to bake.

"Oh - nun's knickers!"

The wooden spoon clacked and the empty mixing bowl rolled a little as it hit the floor. She must've accidentally knocked them off the countertop when she'd gone to knead the dough. She bent to retrieve it but stopped when she stood, slowly placing the bowl and spoon back onto the kitchen counter.

She hadn't even heard him come in, but suddenly there he was, looking indifferent…and utterly gorgeous. He was stood by the table in black slacks and a casual white long sleeve, and gazing into the ashes of the fireplace, the fingertips of one perfect, slender hand drifting distractedly back and forth across the table.

"Where is everyone? Don't tell me they all had to shit at the same time."

—

Levi lazily ran his fingers across the table, as though the dappled wood and empty fireplace were the most interesting things in the world to him, and not the pretty young woman stood a few metres away. She looked disarmingly angelic whatever she wore, but she was never so beautiful to him as when she was wearing her cleaning uniform. He liked how her fringe was visible in front of the white rag tied around her head, how wisps of her copper hair roughly framed her face. He liked the fresh pressed white apron, how it tied at her waist giving her a clean, gently curving silhouette. It was kinda messed up how much he liked it and he couldn't help but judge himself.

He'd been struggling against it more recently, he wasn't sure why exactly, but, as a result he'd taken to spending longer than usual in the shower. Some feelings just demanded to be felt and…worked through. The group spar last week had only added to his frustrations.

It wasn't fair that she could get such a rise out of him (emotionally and physically) from doing almost nothing, no matter how unintentional or unknowing on her part. He suspected she wasn't aware of his response at all, which, in light of the situation they were in as soldiers, could only be a good thing. Still, everyone gave in to their whims sometimes, and here he was today, finding it difficult to keep his regular distance.

"…we've all got our tasks to do for the big day today Captain."

He stopped moving his hand and, after a long moment, glanced up at her. She had some flour on her cheek and a bemused expression. Cute. He returned his attention to the table.

"Nun's knickers…" He muttered under his breath.

"Huh? Did you say something sir?"

"Tasks huh?"

"Yes sir. Gunther-"

"What's this?"

The next thing he knew he'd walked directly towards her, placing his hands firmly on the counter from the opposite side. His eyes dropped to the dry mixture in its shapeless mass on the work surface.

"Shortbread sir. My family recipe."

He blinked in question.

"It's…a type of cookie I suppose Captain. Or, at least…it will be once I've finished it."

He leant down a little towards the dough and wrinkled his nose, "What's in it?"

A small smile edged across her lips,

"Well, the traditional shortbread recipe calls for a loaf of bread and pair of old shorts that…"

She tailed off, catching his confused (and unamused) expression,

"Flour, butter and sugar sir."

No Vanilla. Huh. That could only mean the scent was coming from her.

It was taking an unbelievable amount of self-restraint not to lift his hand to her face and brush away the smudge of flour on her cheek. Perhaps his hand could linger a little, feel the softness of her skin…

—

Petra was suddenly on edge.

He was staring at her mutely with his usual stern and unreadable expression, but there an unnerving intensity to it that wasn't so usual; it was an expression similar to that he wore when he found the single speck of dirt in a room the squad had just cleaned. It was a barely-contained wildness, and it just about broke through his cool, controlled facade. It contrasted completely with his relaxed attire.

He continued to stare. She shifted a little, unsure how to respond. She opened her mouth, but quickly found she had no words and closed it again.

.

He was still staring. She was concerned that the intensity of it would melt her down into a worried ginger puddle.

..

The silence and stillness was beginning to get very uncomfortable, and yet, he hadn't even appeared to blink once. Was something wrong?

…

She found her eyes eventually shifting away from his, preoccupying themselves with anything in her periphery vision…were the walls always that shade? Her blue flower vase, suddenly contained a chip-

"You need any help?"

His voice jolted her back to him, "You…you want to help me Captain?"

"Why not?"

Her throat was tight, and she blinked rapidly,

"That would be…"

Her breath caught as his hand reached out to her face and his rough thumb slowly swept across her cheek.

…wha?

He lingered a moment, before removing his hand and frowning at the fine dusting of flour on it.

Oh…flour…on…

Staring…was why…the speck of dirt…on her…

"T-thank you Captain."

She was dumbfounded, stock-still. It seemed that, though she'd now had extensive practice in concealing her misguided feelings for him, all it took was a simple, unexpected act from him to entirely throw her back into her old besotted boots, stammering like a terrified child, back six months of her life. The cracks were showing again. She'd have to try harder.

He sighed, and walked from the room.

Wait-

Didn't he just say he'd help her…?

She brought her hand to her cheek and stood in a daze.

Had she imagined it? Was he ever even in the kitchen at all?

Focus Petra! Pay attention!

She shook her head slightly, blinking, and began to lightly knead the dough with a grimace.

Put down fool's fiddle and bake your stupid shortbread for Eld and Harriet. Honestly.

"Hey."

Breath hitched in her lungs again. There he was, decked out in his cleaning gear, white rag tied around his head, straightening his apron. Completely real.

He spoke with his usual flatness, "What do I do?"

Now Petra was the one staring. She forced herself to snap out of it.

"Um-" in a tizz, she took a knife and divided her dough in two as he approached the countertop and stood beside her. She gently moved half of the dough in front of him, heart hammering.

"Now you knead it, sir."

—

Levi's eyes narrowed, considering the section of dough Petra'd just allocated to him, which was barely holding itself together on the worktop, crumbs falling off at the sides.

"…what do you need it to do?" He asked, and he noticed her bite her lip in a way that he hadn't seen since last year, that way she sometimes did when she was trying not to smile;

"No - um." She scrunched her eyes up, "You knead it. Sir."

Then, finally, her round and shining amber eyes speared him directly;

"Like this…see?"

Gently, she worked the dough with her hands, pushing and pulling it around, gathering the loose crumbs and combining them with the mass.

"Not for too long mind you, you just want to make sure it's all mixed so it isn't quite so…short." She caught his eye again for a second.

"…short?" He blinked.

"The dough Captain - it's - it's in the name…"

"I see."

"By 'short' I suppose I meant, crumbly…"

"Right."

"Here, you try."

—

Petra watched as he instantly copied her exact motions. Not a moment later, his dough was entirely combined, and in the shape of a complete, perfect sphere.

"Yes - like - that's…good." She muttered.

Darn it. Was there nothing this man couldn't do? Even when she was teaching him something (a situation that she never thought likely, and was somehow happening anyway) she still didn't have the upper hand.

"Now what?" He asked tonelessly.

She took a deep breath, "Now we gently roll it out, cut and shape it for baking."

He nodded and watched her intently as she demonstrated.

She spent the time determinedly thinking about her rolling and cutting.

She did not want or need to ruminate on the icy blue-grey of his eyes as he'd been watching her, his attentiveness to her actions, his apparent willingness to learn from her. Her mind certainly wasn't preoccupied as she worked by the fact that his hand had brushed her cheek in an almost tender way, by his intense staring that intimidated her but also made her feel…

…special.

It was exactly that word that she needed to distance herself from. She wasn't special to him, not more than any other of his subordinates - not more than any other soldier in the whole regiment. It was all in her head, and she needed to make herself believe it. Astounding how quickly she was plummeting back into this.

Her bedroom fantasies were one thing, but she wasn't going to let one wayward shortbread-making lesson derail her progress in reality. This road only led to heartbreak, and anyway, she was utterly settled in the squad now, she loved every single one of them, and she didn't want to be forced out of her position in Special Operations because of some ridiculous fantasy of hers.

He doesn't want you like that.

Besides, it was deeply unprofessional. Unsoldierly. He stared at everyone with that scary, wild intensity from time to time. He'd roughly thumb flour off of any one of the squad's faces if they were dirty. Today was really not that out of the ordinary.

She glanced sidelong at him and noted his deep focus in his work, the very same as when he was on the battlefield.

He was perfect, and she was delusional if she thought she'd ever stand a chance with someone like that. She was a nobody, a hapless child with a stupid dream, and he was…the symbol of hope for all of humanity.

—

Levi had always picked things up quickly, even if he didn't always follow directions exactly. Once he knew what he was aiming for, he'd get there. It was a strange instinct he seemed to possess since as long as he could remember, and apparently it also applied to baking.

Petra told him that the shapes of the cookies weren't that important as she cut her dough into bite-size hearts, that they just needed to be small enough that they'd bake properly in around fifteen to twenty minutes; that she'd tell him if his were too big or small. Then he'd spent several minutes scowling at his perfectly rolled out dough before she noticed and giggled musically, suggesting that a common shape for shortbread was to cut a large circle, then divide the circle into triangular slices to look like a pie. He liked that idea, it was neat and orderly, and he spent some time making sure every slice of his biscuit 'pie' was exactly the same size.

A warmth spread through his chest as he realised the remarkable ease at which they'd slotted into their reversed roles: he was a model student - but she was also an excellent teacher, clear and encouraging. He caught himself internally preening at her compliments, found that he yearned to impress her - that he had to do a flawless job not just because of his meticulous nature, but because he wanted her to be amazed by his work. Because he cared about her opinion of it.

…

Generally Levi didn't care about other people's opinions except Erwin's, and even then, that was heavily dependent on the topic.

The second the shortbread went into the oven to bake, he exited to collect cleaning supplies from the hallway cupboard with the intent of scrubbing the surfaces and the floor. When he returned, Petra had already busied herself washing up the mixing bowl and utensils.

He watched her for a moment, water splashing around her from the sink.

She was perfect, and he was delusional if he ever thought he'd be good enough for someone like that. He was a rat-faced underground scumbag tarted-up in a cravat, and she was a honey-coloured angel, generous and free-spirited, so divine he sometimes struggled to believe she was real and not a strange collective hallucination between him and the rest of the squad.

Since when did he get so damn flowery? Was this what happened to people who baked things? Flour was a key ingredient…

He needed to stop indulging himself like this.

He needed to get a grip.

Tch.

In that moment, the young expectant groom was surely witnessing the gateway to heaven.

The sound of a single fiddle floated through the body of the simple, small church where guests were stood from their seats in the pews facing the entrance. It was by sheer luck that Harriet's cousin played professionally, and was willing to give them a family discount for the violin performance, which now echoed throughout the room with lone beauty, allowing the lucky folks within to feel the full space of the old building in which they now waited eagerly.

The ajar door, formed of old dark wood, waited invitingly under a stone arch. Golden light poured through it in a divinely glowing column which caressed the old stone slabs of the aisle and jutting corners of the wooden pews, affixed to the ends of each were lively bunches of large daisies.

Eld was overwhelmed. Each new person or wedding decoration he observed had his mind rushing with exultant adrenaline. It caused his palms to sweat, and he was schooling himself on a loop not to aimlessly bite his lip, crack his knuckles, run a hand through his hair (which to Petra's dismay was done in a simple bun almost no differently to usual - she'd wanted him to style it with a flower as she had done) or do anything that might give away his trembling spirit.

He was always cool, calm and collected. He was always cool calm and - except he'd nearly cried twice today already; once on seeing his mother, moist-eyed in her sunflower yellow dress and matching hat arm in arm with his two younger brothers, and then again as he'd strolled purposefully into the church and spotted Gunther, Oruo and Petra lined up at the altar waiting for him, looking very smart in their matching black suits with bow ties, each with a daisy in the pocket (Petra's behind her ear).

His other brothers and brand new sister. They matched him. Even today they were a team.

The violin reached its final soaring cadence and the church fell into an energised hush.

It had to be the longest minute of Eld's life, and he mentally begged the musician to start up again so he wouldn't be able to hear his low, stuttering heartbeat, or uneven breathing.

Lo, a shadow appeared through the light, and heaven's gate opened to his bright angel. Even through the translucent veil he knew that she was beaming so widely that her eyes were half their normal size, creased at the edges, blue sparkling from her irises just like the light dancing off a mountain lake - his favourite sight: an expression so untroubled and splendid he thought of it with great frequency when they were beyond the wall to remind him why the perils of their work was worth it.

She made everything worth it.

—

Petra could see Eld warring with himself not to cry. She'd never seen him so openly emotional before, and her heart swelled on witnessing his struggle.

Standing in the pews were some familiar faces; Hannah and Jules, Moblit, Section Commander Hange, Nifa, Anna, Lynne and…Bert. Naturally as Eld's ex-squad mate he'd be invited, still it was a little awkward following the chat she'd had with him, and they hadn't spoken since beyond the odd clumsy pleasantry when they happened across one another in the courtyard. He caught her eye for a split second and they both looked away. She'd tried to let him down gently, but it didn't matter how gently you dropped an egg, it still cracked.

Down the aisle, Harriet was approaching arm in arm with her father. She was truly breathtaking; she could have been floating towards them - and not just because the floor length simple white gown concealed her feet.

Petra felt her own eyes brimming a little when the young couple were stood across from one another reciting their vows.

A squeezing moved around her heart, as though a rope was being pulled tighter and tighter around it. Guilt, she recognised, as she briefly gave into her own selfish temptation to glance away from the ceremony in order to catch sight of a certain small shadow, leaning on the back wall in its classic pristine black suit, hands heavily in pockets. A fleeting fancy, she schooled herself, returning her attention to the front, just in time to watch the bride and groom share their first blissful kiss.

—

Gunther filed out behind the bustling congregation onto the green.

Pink blossoms were drifting through the air outside the chapel like springtime snow, and the small number of cleanly dressed attendees were drinking pale red wine, scattered about outside and around an old marquee, under which sliced fruit and the fruits of Petra's morning labour were stationed in concentric circles on basic white plates.

He couldn't wipe the smile from his face. After an unconventional and stressful morning everything had come together. He'd picked up the suits, set-up the marquee, spoken to the coachman about transporting the new couple to their evening reception at the tavern, checked off the list of guests as they'd arrived, then given the rings to one of Eld's younger brothers for the ceremony - all on top of instructing Oruo and Petra with their own tasks for the day. In spite of the stress he found a part of him enjoyed the organisation.

Now he was standing in awe of the brand new couple as they cradled one another under a lattice arch, two halves of a resplendent whole. Lilac wisteria flowers were dangling down above them and moving gently in the breeze; the picture of happiness.

There was a pang inside as he thought of James, and how he'd liked to have done this one day. In some ways he was glad James couldn't make it today, he was certain he would have found the whole event more difficult. But the world was cruel; though he'd been blessed enough that his family and close companions never batted an eyelid to their relationship, same-sex marriage wasn't recognised by the church, a fact that didn't look likely to change in the near future.

As if hearing his mental toil, Lynne approached him, arm outstretched with a glass of strawberry wine, which he quickly accepted.

Her eyes twinkled, "You did a great job today. Eld's family were just telling me how much organising you did. That's a big responsibility."

"Mm. Thanks." He said.

She smiled wistfully at the new couple. The birds twittered brightly.

Gunther pulled at his sleeve,

"…have you ever thought about marriage?" He asked.

"Absolutely." Her brown eyes flitted to Anna, shining, "Though marrying when you're in our line of work is really for optimists, right?" She laughed.

Gunther chuckled too. Eld certainly was an optimist - and lucky.

Lynne continued, "But, hey, if it were allowed…maybe my opinion would be different."

Anna looked over to the pair in momentary confusion, then lit up with a smile.

"You're right." Gunther added quietly, "There's never any certainty in the scouts…I'm grateful for what I do have, even if I wish things could be different."

He looked forlornly into his sweet wine, then necked it.

—

Petra wandered around between the small groups of chatting guests, searching for someone that it was becoming increasingly clear wasn't there. She swore she'd seen his shadow in the church but…perhaps it was just her wishful thinking projecting an illusion.

After they'd finished up with baking and cleaning, he'd vanished, and not once had he mentioned the wedding. He hadn't even sampled any of their finished shortbread.

Her heart sank, but her mind steeled her; it was a good thing, if she was going to carry on as normal, she shouldn't be searching him out like that when it wasn't completely necessary to do so.

"Babygirl this shortbread is a dream!" Hannah cawed, appearing from under the marquee.

"Yeah dude - how did you get it to melt in the mouth like that? Did you use a whole block of butter?" Jules chimed in as the pair approached Petra.

In seconds, her spirits were lifted. They always managed it.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it." She beamed, tilting her head, "It's not my first rodeo."

Hannah smirked, "Petra, you know this is a wedding right?"

The ginger laughed, "Oh for goodness-"

"Is baking for weddings like, supplementary income?" Jules interrupted, genuinely curious.

"No, I've never charged." She replied with a thoughtful smile, hand on chin, "Though perhaps I should…"

Hannah nodded enthusiastically, shoving a second whole cookie into her mouth.

"I did bake for my cousin's wedding, which was roughly this size - but in Karanes we break a bigger shortbread round over the bride's head as she enters her new home - kind of a ritual," Petra's smile widened, "I suggested that one to Eld but he didn't seem keen - that's why we made these shapes instead. Much more civilised."

She took a spare triangular cookie from Hannah's plate and nibbled it. Perfect. Better than perfect for the hands that had crafted it.

"Well." Hannah started, then swallowed her mouthful, "Maybe one day I'll get you to bake for my wedding."

Jules laughed, "I volunteer to smash the shortbread round over your head!"

—

Marriage. There was a permanence to it that didn't chime with reality. Especially not for scouts.

Levi left the church as soon as he could. He respected Eld enough to attend, but he wasn't about to make small-talk with a bunch of drunk strangers and Hange; so he caught the groom's eye and gave him an almost imperceptible nod before he took off.

It irked him. The cheerfulness of the day sat like a thin veneer over grim reality, and he found himself again wondering how so many of these people could wilfully delude themselves for so long. Like children at a street puppet show, allowing themselves to pretend the strings were truly invisible, and that nothing existed beyond the confines of the cardboard set.

Seeing his squad suited up in a line like that made his heart hurt. Sooner or later he was going to lose them all. He was going to lose her.

Levi never lost the battle, but somehow, he always lost the war.

Notes:

firstlyy thank u so much to jorambles and AwkwardAsianGirl for the idea and support - i rewrote the levi dreaming scene with ur idea in mind and it became a bit spicy (which it wasnt before haha) and its now one of my favs because its a weird kind of farce-spice combo...(farce-spice is the sixth spice girl)

i promise im not a romance sadist and that we're headed somewhere! i suppose im doing some exploring here of the common rivetra trope that levi and petra were in love/ crushing on each other for x months/years before acting on it - and seeing what that might look like...and the answer is: extremely frustrating!

the cookie baking scene also came from something id seen in my internet journeys about petra teaching levi to bake something? maybe for a game? i cant really remember...

Chapter 9: Hauling Oats (mini chapter)

Notes:

this chapter is up early because next week is busy and im hoping to get two up on sunday in prep for a week off! once again its based off of a dynamic from aot tactics that id seen and thought was a cute one to explore..

lemme know if u notice the general link in the mini chapters (i may have made it too subtle...but it may become clear with the next mini chap.)

on a separate note, there are some band names/ near band names hidden in this one if u wish to search for them...

Chapter Text

"Gelgar, you really don't need to take so many bags, there are three of us." Nifa raised a brow as the quiffed man stumbled out of the stables store room under the weight of three bulging sacks of oats.

"You're gonna put your back out." Petra chided, picking up a single bag in both arms, "We can do multiple trips - I mean, whats the rush? It's really not that long a walk from here to the horse's field, right?"

"Right." Nifa agreed.

Gelgar snorted, throwing a cursory glance back to the pair, "The quicker we feed them, the quicker I can go down to the tavern. It's been a long week."

"It's Tuesday!" Nifa cried out and Petra giggled in disbelief, "And besides, don't you have more chores to get to after this? I have to take inventory for the lab stock room, and I'm sure Petra has a long list of her own."

"You bet." Petra nodded, "Did you know there's a right way to clean stone walls?"

Nifa guffawed, "I didn't."

The two redheads followed a couple of steps behind the blundering, laden man as they made the short journey up the dirt path to the fields where the spare horses were grazing.

Petra tried to stop herself from smiling too widely as her mind wandered back to the Captain's little frown when he'd last scolded Eld; something about 'circular movements with a soft bristle brush first' and 'the importance of the correct ratio of soap to water' or the stone wouldn't clean properly. She found his particularity when it came to cleaning utterly adorable, something Nifa seemed to have picked up upon…among other things.

In fact, it was almost as if Nifa's enlarged golden eye was blinking through a magnifying glass, scrutinising Petra's every interaction with her Captain. Whenever his name came up, though Nifa would say nothing, she would grin with a mischievous knowingness that was not only unfounded, but completely unearned; and yet she did it with such total charm that Petra was always a bit tempted to tell the woman all her heart's hidden desires.

It was that quality of Nifa's that reminded Petra of Hannah and Jules, which only endeared Nifa to her further.

"Argh - dammit!" Gelgar called out as he fell backwards onto his ass on the grass by the wooden fence, the three sacks of oats thudding to his sides.

"I hate to say I told you so…" Nifa derided, looking over her fallen comrade with raised eyebrows.

"Whatever." Gelgar scowled, dusting himself off and getting back to his feet, "You're loving this."

Nifa grinned, "You're right. I love to say I told you so, because I did tell you so, and you deserve it."

With an arched brow, Gelgar picked up two of the sacks and threw one over each shoulder, grimacing briefly at the weight.

Eyeing the third bag, he grumbled, "I'll come back for that."

"I'd offer to get it myself but a potential pulled muscle is not worth it." Petra remarked brightly, "There's a reason the guys call them 'gut-busters'."

Nifa laughed, placing her bag down with a thud as she unhooked the gate to the field, letting Gelgar amble through first.

"What are their tasks today?"

"Oruo is off to the next town to help with restocking oil." Petra answered, "The other two are window-cleaning. They have to do the entire west-side barracks."

"Geez!" Nifa gawped as they sidled through the grass towards the troughs that ran along the field's edge.

Petra chortled, "All morning they've been referring to themselves as 'The Bleach Boys', despite the fact that the Captain told them time and time again that you never use bleach on windows."

"No bleach on windows. Right. I'll have to remember that one." Nifa said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Right." Petra smiled back.

"Gotta say, I don't get it." Gelgar remarked from up ahead, "He just doesn't frighten me."

"Who?" Petra queried.

"Captain Levi. Everyone always harps on about how terrifying he is and all that but…I've never been scared of him."

Nifa barked a laugh, "Oh really? You've never been scared of Captain Levi?"

"Not even one time."

Having reached the field's first long trough, Gelgar dumped his two bags to the ground and sat down heavily, his legs stretching out across the grass and leaning his upper back against the metal. He lolled his head back, folded his arms and closed his eyes.

"Oh, are you done?" Nifa scowled, peevishly dropping her bag of oats on the ground by him.

"What?" Gelgar responded, "I've already done twice as much work as the pair of you. I'll help when you've pulled your weight."

Before Nifa could open her mouth to scold him, Petra shouted suddenly;

"Wait! Is that - Captain Levi?!"

With a panicked high-pitched yelp, Gelgar leapt up from his lazy position, grabbed one of the sacks and proceeded to enact a series of dramatic poses,

"Wham! Pow! Lift! I'm working Captain I swear - hey - wait a hot minute!"

The two women were doubled over, clutching their stomachs laughing, hands on one another's shoulders to stabilise themselves.

"'I'm working Captain, I swear!'" Nifa mocked, wiping a tear from her eye.

"'I've never been scared of Captain Levi.'" Petra jested, belly-laughing.

Gelgar's face had gone beet red and he grumbled, dropping the bag of last and stalking off back towards the gate.

"A-ha!" Nifa called after him, "I guess that means we have pulled our weight, right?"

"Right!" Petra declared, beaming.

"Will you two quit it!" Gelgar yelled back from the gate.

The two women followed on, still howling as Gelgar marched back towards the store room with balled up fists.

Chapter 10: Knock on Effect

Chapter Text

June

The first time, Levi wasn't sure what to make of it at all.

It was nine-thirty in the evening; the day had been even longer and more gruelling than usual, in part due to the summer heat (the summer days also meant more daylight, which meant more training hours), and he'd just sat down and poured out his perfectly brewed cup of tea when a knock at his office door disturbed him. He almost growled. When she humbly entered a moment later with averted eyes, he was unmoving, a still image with his mouth concealed behind his teacup, but his mind raced at a rate of knots in search of any words.

Before he could commit to any one sentence however, she mutely sat in the opposite chair, picked up her pen and began filling out an empty form from his 'to do' stack of paperwork.

…huh.

For some minutes he just watched her, sipping his tea, but she didn't so much as flick her eyes towards him. He delicately set the empty teacup back on its saucer and leant his chin on his hand, eyes lit with curiosity, but she remained undisturbed, working diligently.

Strange.

He inhaled deeply, removing his hand from his chin.

"Did I ask for your assistance this evening?"

Her scrawling slowed to a stop, but she didn't look up.

"No, Captain."

"Then, why are you here?"

Her pen began scratching at the paper once more.

"It's Tuesday sir."

"Is it?" He asked dryly.

The pen stopped again. He waited. Still she didn't look at him.

Levi was going to get an answer.

"And what is, 'Tuesday'?" He needled.

He could see the cogs turning in her mind. Steadily, she replaced her pen to the ink pot and it clinked gently.

"It's the day after Monday, sir."

He couldn't stop his eyebrows from rising. With her appearance the way it was, it could be remarkably easy to forget her bravery.

"I hope I'm not overstepping the mark sir, but I noticed that you're behind on your paperwork. I thought you could use the help."

His eyes narrowed, and yet she was undeterred. She'd met his gaze, the fire of challenge burning within, then swiftly picked up the pen and continued working, as though nothing untoward had occurred.

She was entirely overstepping the mark, and completely unflinching about it. That expression of unbridled tenacity she had when she took down a target. She wasn't going to back down. It was fascinating, infuriating and he was hesitant to admit…a little erotic. For a minute or so his pride and his rational mind debated one another. It would take the pressure off him if she stayed, but, could he really turn a blind eye to this?

"Insubordinate."

"Hardly, Captain." She replied smoothly and instantly.

He blinked.

"If you want me to leave sir, all you need to do is ask."

Courage looked so good on her. His throat had dried out. She spoke to him like she was his equal, as if he didn't greatly outrank her.

"So…shall I, Captain?"

There was no way he could let this slide and maintain his dignity. That he wanted her to stay was neither here nor there at this point.

"Go."

With calm immediacy she returned her pen to the ink pot and stood. She gave a resolved nod and, tucking her chair under the desk, exited without another word.

"Tch."

He couldn't work out if he was more angry or turned on. Neither were good.

The second time was later that same week. Erwin was stood opposite Levi's desk briefing him on the new blade boxes, which had been re-designed to be a whole twenty percent lighter than before. The Special Operations Squad were to trial them in training first, to make sure they were still sturdy enough for the most extreme movements the scouts had to undertake. If they were able to train without any hiccups, the new design would be deployed throughout the regiment as the standard.

Again though, at nine-thirty PM exactly, a light knock graced the door. Erwin looked a touch startled turning over his shoulder as Petra slipped in, head bowed.

Levi opened his mouth, but Erwin got there first,

"Ah, Petra." He flashed his charming smile, that knowing one with just enough courtesy that he couldn't be accused of anything, "Assisting Captain Levi with his paperwork again I see? Good of you."

Levi's nose wrinkled in distaste. Erwin was always ahead of the damn game.

"Yes sir." Petra saluted.

"Petra, your help won't be required. Dismissed." Levi stated blankly.

Petra nodded, hand already on the brass doorknob to leave but was stopped by Erwin's voice.

"Hold your horses Petra." Erwin held out a hand towards her to stop her, but his eyes never left Levi's scowling face, "Don't be rash Levi. In the coming days you'll have several evaluation reports to fill out regarding testing these new blade boxes, on top of your regular work, which I need not mention again, is already overdue. It seems to me you might greatly benefit from the help."

Levi's cheek twitched as the two men entered a fierce stare-off lasting over a whole minute.

Levi's eyes narrowed.

Erwin's eyes narrowed.

Petra was frozen in place for the duration, hand still clasped around the doorknob, eyes flicking between them.

She opened her mouth, "I-"

"Go Pet." Levi announced.

His heart stopped.

"-Tra." He tacked on, but Erwin's wily smile had already comfortably unfurled across his face.

Levi remained a blank mask, but his blood raced about the network of his veins punching him in every vital organ and he battled not to react to his own idiotic slip up.

Petra's eyes looked twice their size and she was again vacillating between the two men. She swallowed, giving Levi a nod and twisted the doorknob, pulling the door open-

"Stay Ms Ral." Erwin commanded, "That's an order."

Petra slowly closed the door again.

"Thank you. Well then. Now that's settled I'll leave these with you." Erwin placed some of the new evaluation forms on Levi's desk. "I trust you'll have the overdue work with me by tomorrow, now that you have another pair of hands."

"Whatever you say, sir." Levi bit back sourly, scowling into a corner.

Erwin merely looked on with contentment as he gestured for Petra to take her seat across from Levi, and she gingerly complied.

"I wish you both a pleasant evening."

And with a final affirming nod and artful glance, Erwin left, closing the door into an unpleasant, penetrating silence.

Levi was humiliated that Erwin had pulled rank, and humiliated by his own slip of the tongue. He still wasn't entirely sure how it happened, wasn't like he ever called her that before…

A moronic oversight; he'd let himself be caught off-guard by the unexpected stand-off between Erwin and himself. Though he prayed that she hadn't noticed the error, or at the very least, that she realised that that was all it was, an error, quickly corrected, a nothing.

He grit his teeth. A cocktail of embarrassment and bad humour was festering inside him, and there was no way he wasn't going to be an asshole, not unless he kept his mouth shut.

Though he was still glaring lividly into the corner, from his peripheral vision he could see guilt imprinted onto her features, and she had been sat, completely unmoving for some time. Waiting for his instruction, most likely. She wasn't foolish enough to return to her combative attitude of earlier in the week after Erwin's contribution this evening. When she did muster the will to speak, her voice was timid.

"I'm sorry that-"

But he silenced her with an indignant look.

After three hours and forty-five minutes exactly, every second of which was spent in almost deathly silence, Petra completed her work. The reasonable part of him was grateful, he'd almost completely caught up what was overdue, but he'd be damned if showed it. She stood, neatening her stack of completed documents, and placed it on top of his filing pile. Then, with a curt nod to him, she replaced her chair under the desk, and left. For a further twenty minutes, Levi stared at the door.

The next day at drills, it went unmentioned.

The third time he began to wonder if he was stuck in a strange time loop. Again the light knock at the door at nine-thirty PM. Again the slight creak as it opened slowly, and again she entered, her head down, averting her eyes.

"Petra." He stood abruptly from his chair and skewered her with his eyes, "What are you doing?"

Her gaze burned back into his.

"Well?" He pushed, "Why are you here?"

"Because you refuse to ask for help sir."

He blinked, stumped. She wasn't wrong, but-

"You're tired Captain, and when you're tired you can't work as well, and you can't train us as hard. You care about efficiency and diligence more than anyone, it should concern you."

"What concerns me is your blatant disregard for the direct orders of your superior officer."

"I mean no disrespect sir, but please, answer me honestly; would you be finished faster with my assistance?"

"It's not up for debate. Return to the barracks. Now."

Purpose was scorching through her, she almost looked ablaze. She marched forward to the desk, and set her left elbow on the wood; forearm vertical and hand outstretched in wait, she stared at him with burning urgency.

"Petra-"

"You said it wasn't up for debate sir. Since you're a man of action, I wondered if it was up for a challenge instead."

He glanced down at her fanned out fingers, rooted in position, awaiting their match.

This was dumb. He wanted her to stay. In every conceivable way it was better that she did; that he took the help he needed. It was his own damn pride that was screwing this up, and for what? There was no real reason that…

Of course there was. Fear.

He was scared that the more time he spent alone with her, the harder it would be to stop himself from getting too close - and he was already failing at it spectacularly, at least by his own standards. All it meant was greater pain when she was ripped away. It was hard enough seeing her everyday and swatting away his absurd fantasies and what if's.

"Tch."

"One simple arm wrestle Captain."

He cast his gaze to the side.

"If I may sir…rather like you, right now I'm in need of a hand."

He looked back at her for a long moment.

"Terms?"

A gleeful smile stretched across her lips,

"Well sir; if I win, then I don't have to assist you with your paperwork."

July

The first time was so minor that it was only in hindsight that Oruo considered it in any way significant.

He still wasn't really sure what any of it meant, but nonetheless, he'd noticed.

As an elite squad, they often had elite duties outside of their regular drills and assignments - that day's elite duty? Scrubbing the entire mess hall from top to bottom. Sure, there were those soldiers who said it was better to have free time to visit family, go fishing in the stream, or to the market or the library or pub…but what those soldiers failed to realise was that it was a privilege to clean the mess hall, an honour only entrusted to those most capable and most impressive. Why waste your time laughing with friends in the tavern when you could be scrubbing floors on your hands and knees at the beck and call of Humanity's Strongest, Cleanest soldier? Without pain there was no gain, and Oruo wore his chores with pride as a symbol of his personal achievement in climbing the ranks.

Having said that however, when Captain Levi took Petra's shabby, fraying old wash-rag from her hand and gave it to him, while procuring a brand new sponge from supposed thin air to give to her, Oruo was a little miffed. She wasn't that much better at cleaning than the rest of them, was she? And if she was, then she could use the gross old rag, she'd be better with it; the Captain should give the nice new cleaning implements to those who found it harder, that surely made sense.

It was only then that he began to pick up on the tone of Captain's voice, which seemed to be consistently softer when he was talking to Petra than the other three of them.

He barked orders at the men left and right, and made sneering underhand comments disparaging their efforts, but with Petra he did nothing of the sort, offering only mild instruction and guidance in a voice that was almost tender, and so quiet that often Oruo struggled to make out what he was saying to her at all.

Oruo was almost completely certain it wasn't paranoia. Perhaps the Captain just had a soft spot for girls…but then, why hadn't he seen it before? Something in the man's attitude towards her had definitely shifted.

The second time, it was beyond the wall.

Bloodshot blue eyes, wide, square teeth and the stinking breath of the beast along with the suffocating pressure on all sides of his torso played on a terrifying loop through Oruo's brain at destabilising speed; then, at the end of it all, the spinning shadow of the Captain cutting death down in its colossal tracks, a god of destruction.

He was the perfect soldier. And now, Oruo owed him his life.

Oruo sniffled, his weakened legs shaking, for the horror hadn't ended there; that would have been far too easy on him. Following on from his flailing dance with death was the gruesomest scene he'd ever seen, burned into his mind with such shocking clarity he could see it colour for colour even now. Ilse Langnar, or, the headless corpse that once was Ilse Langnar, sat in the hollow of a tree, like some fucked up throne, blood crusted into her cloak and shirt.

He couldn't think of any of it without a full body-jolting shiver and the ghost of the titan's grip claiming him. Later back at the barracks he'd written a letter to his little sister Erika, asking for more information on what the occult made of headless corpses and hollowed-out trees, and for her opinion on those omens. He didn't believe in all that crap, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

In light of the mission's horrifying events it was a miracle he'd spotted any shift in Captain Levi's behaviour at all, but still, a tiny voice nudged him to pay attention as the man's tone again considerably softened as he addressed Petra, and then requested a change to their regular riding formation, placing Petra front left by his side; Oruo's usual spot for long distance journeys.

"She's been the Captain's favourite since she joined man. Haven't you noticed it before?" Eld muttered, not giving Oruo's complaint a second thought as they readied themselves for the journey back.

"Yeah." Gunther echoed, "As far as I'm aware she's the only one of us that didn't have to go through that gruelling day of 'extra' training."

The three men shuddered, remembering the horrendous intensity of what they each thought was a one on one combat session with the Captain, only to find out that it was a one on one cleaning session with the Captain to 'beat out every bad habit'.

After a minute Eld broke the silence;

"She's pretty fast on horseback anyway, she'll be good at relaying messages."

"But that was my spot - I fire the flares, I relay the messages."

"You can fire flares from any point in the formation." Gunther said dismissively, mounting his horse.

"Right, it's not a big deal." Eld commented, reattaching his blade boxes, "Besides, I'll bet he just changed it because he assumed you'd be riding back with the medical carts."

Pfft.

Sure, his whole body ached with bruising from being crushed in a giant fist, and sure, he was shaky on his feet, struggling not to constantly whimper in response to his ordeal, but no fucking way in hell was Oruo Bozad being relegated to the fucking medical carts. Until he was down and out completely, Oruo was an elite soldier and he travelled with his elite squad.

The third time, it was only a day or so after the return from the expedition.

Personally, Oruo'd had to come to terms with his fuck up. He'd been too reckless, and he'd allowed himself to be distracted while he was dispatching the target. A rookie mistake.

Captain Levi would never have done something so stupid. And Captain Levi was a flawless soldier.

Even more importantly, he'd cost the research squad a valuable specimen for study - he'd cost humanity a valuable specimen for study…and his life was a small price to pay when weighed up against the whole of humanity. He'd made up his mind - he was going to apologise to the Section Commander when the opportunity presented itself.

It was a Sunday, and Oruo'd announced to the full common room that he was heading to Trost to pick up some bits and pieces for their barracks and send his letter to Erika, when Petra leapt up from the couch and asked him to wait up, as there were a few things she wanted to get from Trost too. Neither of them banked on the Captain silently joining them.

What followed was a long, near silent ride over, where a stunned Petra and Oruo intermittently glanced at one another, wondering what to say regarding the development, if anything. It was far more usual for the Captain to give them a (very specific) list of things to buy, he certainly never joined the squad on their outings.

Once they reached Trost the atmosphere remained strange, with the Captain largely following on mutely behind them, hands in pockets as they made light conversation and discussed the stalls they needed to visit - that was until they passed by Henkelman's Cleaning & Hygiene Supplies, and were abruptly dragged off course.

Oruo watched from the under the white awning with a sack of goods over his shoulders as Petra and the Captain browsed various items, the Captain at one point going so far as to ask her opinion of a broom he'd found, to which she gave a startled blink and suggested a different model that she thought seemed sturdier. He gave a thoughtful nod and picked it up to examine it.

Oruo began to wonder the point at which the Captain had begun asking anyone's opinion on anything, but before he could think further over it, Section Commander Hange serendipitously passed by outside the shop, and he was overcome with the compulsion to follow them and apologise for his recent errors.

It was only when they'd all returned to the barracks that evening, and he unpacked the broom that he'd been made to carry the whole day - the very broom that Captain Levi bought on Petra's recommendation - that Oruo remembered the strangeness of the events at all.

August

The first time, Eld noticed it but Gunther didn't right away.

Eld kicked him under the table, and Petra's eyes were so wide that Eld thought he could see their entire common room reflected in them, in the very centre of that reflection, a small ruffled square: the new cravat.

Gunther, who was trying to read the morning paper scowled at Eld;

"What?"

Eld mimed at him to shut up, and tilted his head towards the kitchenette, where the wearer of the new cravat was pouring out his morning coffee. Gunther dropped the paper.

It took Oruo several moments to pick up on the rest of the squad's staring.

"What's the matter? You all look constipated." Oruo announced, moving to pick up the small milk jug and stopping, instead tapping his teaspoon firmly on the rim of the cup with a swagger that tried to sell the pointless action.

Petra's frown line deepened, "No milk this morning Oruo?"

Eld tried not to smirk at her accusatory tone. Oruo always had milk.

Oruo scoffed, "Milk? Me? Never. Always hated it. Ruins the taste of a perfectly decent cup of coffee."

"Is that right." Gunther mumbled skeptically.

"Indeed so." Oruo replied, then, the three pairs of curious eyes watched, astounded, as the man placed the fingers of his left hand around the rim of the coffee cup, and began lifting it towards his face. His hand was shaking, fingertips clearly unused to such an action, he ended up bringing his head down towards the cup and then was in a kind of hunched position, from which he took a hesitant sip of his drink and instantly sprayed a disgusted mouthful back out.

Eld snort-laughed as Oruo irately put the cup back on its saucer.

"It was too hot ok?!" He barked.

"You're sure about that?" Petra offered dubiously,

"I doubt it was too hot man, it's been sat out for a while." Eld added.

The redhead continued, "If you want milk in your coffee, just put milk in it."

Oruo grumbled, pouring the rest of the cup down the sink, and immediately began scrubbing it.

As they assembled in line at the athletics circuit that morning, the Captain's gaze lingered on Oruo a second longer than normal, and his brow twitched.

The second time, Section Commander Hange saw it too.

The squad were stationed in pairs guarding each tent of the newly captured titans Chicachironi and Alberto. As the most elite team, they were to be sharing round-the-clock watch with Squad Mike until a routine of testing had been established from Squad Hange, and a baseline safety of the titan's bindings was proven. Once the Commander was happy that the new specimens weren't going to spontaneously break free of their bonds, watch duty would be shared between all the active squads.

For now though, Eld was stood opposite Oruo outside Alberto's tent, and couldn't stop his eyes from flicking down to the ostentatious new neckpiece.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?" Oruo blustered.

Eld rolled his eyes.

Moments later, a high pitched scream rattled through the canvas, and the Section Commander scampered out of the tent in a twist of escalating energy not dissimilar to a tornado, grabbing Oruo's lapels and lifting him off the ground with a screech,

"Hallelujah! Praise the Goddesses! Alberto can see again! For a moment there I was certain all was lost - I thought I'd blinded the poor thing - But he lives to see another da-"

Oruo had unsurprisingly bitten his tongue and his head was lolling about his shoulders in a daze; something which frequently happened to him when he had an encounter with the scientist.

"Oruo?" Their face twisted curiously and they leant in to the man's neck, blinking owlishly at the new square of fabric, "A hand me down is it? Was Captain Levi throwing out some of his old ascots?"

Oruo whimpered.

"Aha!" Hange gasped, realisation dawning over their face; "Now I see…you're doing your homework." They winked, letting go of his lapels, and Oruo dropped to the floor in a heap.

They put their hand on their chin, "Well, don't let me derail your important research - I know first hand how frustrating it can be when-"

"Section Commander!" Nifa exclaimed, racing from the opposite tent, "You need to see this!"

As quickly and chaotically as they'd appeared, they vanished, their excitement exploding its way through the other tent.

Eld scratched his head, "…research?"

But Oruo simply blubbed meaningless noises from his stupefied mound on the floor.

The third time, it was hot out, the scorching sun mocking the Military funeral service with its incessant brightness.

Didn't the clouds have the decency to rain, to cry for those lost? Did it really have to seem so cheerful out?

Eld squinted into the sky, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's intensity. It was a burning reminder that life went on; marking the certainty of a tomorrow without the fallen, and it seemed wholly unfair that the daylight was allowing no pause for grief. It was his own human selfishness, he realised, to need the natural world to reflect the raincloud bursting in his chest.

A kind of relief then, when they made their way into the imposing great shadow of the wall, towards the lines of gravestones which grew out from the lush green ground in front of it like strange ominous plants, common as weeds, though neat in their multitudinous rows. The pervasive cover of the grey shadow felt more appropriate for mourning than the warm yellow sunlight.

It was only then that he noticed it: the ostentatious, ruffled square poking out at Oruo's neckline as the man assisted Petra with lifting instruments onto the small portable platform, where the band had taken to playing dirges for these events following Commander Erwin's reading out of the names of the missing and deceased.

It was exactly that ridiculous ruffled square that then held Eld's attention from beside him in the line, as the living stood in saluting formation, listening to the names of the dead.

The new cravat rippled in the delicate breeze as The Commander's voice boomed out;

"Patrik Haldor, killed in action."

Eld's chest tightened.

"Anna Beutelg, killed in action."

From somewhere further along in the rows to his right, a wailing sob wracked the body of Lynne, whose knees buckled, but she was caught and held up by Henning and Nanaba with frightening normality. Such moments were understandably common at these events; they were expected.

The Commander's voice continued to boom, but Eld no longer heard it. Bile was rising in his throat and he repressed a cough, the despicable liquid burning his throat as it rose and he fought to keep it down.

Still, Eld focused on the new cravat as he ground his teeth surely to a powder.

Squad Anna. Up until fairly recently, the only squad he'd spent any extra curricular time with at all. Gone. Only two had survived and were being transferred to new squads, though, due to their trauma, it wasn't even clear whether they would continue on as scouts.

Light almond eyes flashed through his mind; those smiling eyes that once had quite a hold on him.

Anna tapped her nose, "Trick of the trade buddy."

An image of Patrik's round cheeks as he laughed, making up some ridiculous story to entertain whoever would pay him the attention.

"No problem big E, see ya." Patrik stumbled off.

Weakness moved up his legs but he steadied himself, glancing back at Oruo's new cravat, finding the absurdity of that square of fabric provided him with just enough distraction to keep himself together.

He wouldn't ask the guy about it today.

Chapter 11: "To Love;"

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

September

"They said it was called a 'fishtail braid', now I can see why." Hange chattered, pulling strands of Petra's hair into the plait, "It looks a lot like a mermaid's tail."

They'd convinced her to let them try it out after they'd watched some youngsters outside a school in town plaiting each other's hair. Petra had only been too keen to agree to it, it had been an age since she'd done anything fun with her hair.

She smiled, her cheeks a little rosy from the wine they were sharing in the officers common room. She'd happened across Hange on her return to the barracks and on a whim asked if they were free for the evening; all of the guys in the squad were uncommonly busy, and she was feeling a little low, and not wanting to spend the night alone. A solitary crossword just wouldn't cut it tonight.

Hange had keenly accepted, adding that Moblit had banned them from working with the captured titans subjects for the day, yelling: "Section Commander! You need to take a break sometimes!" directly into their face.

"There. Stunning, even if I do say so myself. You should consider wearing it this way for training, it'll keep it out of your face."

Petra smiled and ran her fingers over the back of her head, feeling the criss-crossed pattern of the laced hair which was bound in the middle of her neck, making it just too short for her to see.

"Darn. I wish I could look." She said, "It feels pretty."

"Unfortunately you're just going to have to trust me." Hange replied, "Now, why don't we move over to the sofas?"

Petra grabbed her glass and fell deeply into one of the plush blue sofas nearish the fireplace, and Hange took a seat on the sofa across from her. It wasn't often she'd ever been into the officer's common room (with her Special Ops status she could come as often as she wanted, but with their own kitchenette space they just didn't see any need); it was much more luxurious than one would think for a room owned by the scout regiment.

"This place sure is fancy." She tittered.

"I heard a rumour that most of this furniture is stolen."

Petra gasped, "Really?"

"Many moons ago - I don't remember it so it must've been before even my time-"

"Oh so…eighty or ninety years ago?" Petra joked.

Hange cackled, raising their glass, "That's right! Before the walls were even built - if you can believe it." They winked, "Anyway, the rumour goes that a scout raised a false alarm in Trost, a fire or something that took all of the MP's away from their headquarters. While they were out, some other soldiers from the scouts poached all this fancy furniture from them."

Petra had her hand over her mouth, giggling, "Oh my god."

Hange grinned, "I think it was a retaliation against the MP's for persuading the government to cut our funding…and I don't think they ever found out who took it!"

"Wow." Petra chortled, "Talk about being bad at your job right? Aren't they supposed to be able to solve crimes?"

"You'd think if they'd had any idea then they would have come looking for it. Then again," They fiddled with their glasses, "They're stinking rich, they might've just bought more furniture with all the extra funding they got that year that they siphoned off us."

"But…" Petra sipped her wine, "How did the scouts get a whole bunch of swanky sofas all the way here from Trost? That must have been quite the trip."

"Simple." Hange blinked plainly, "Covered carts. I'm sure they'd have planned it all in advance - I'd imagine you could fit a few sofas on a cart if you stacked them up right, like a plush jigsaw."

"…are you sure you weren't there? You seem to know an awful lot about this crime for someone who claims to not be involved."

Hange's grin ever widened, "I wasn't…but, I'm certain that the person who told me this 'rumour' was."

Petra leant forward in anticipation. Hange remained staring at her, grinning, their eyes shining.

"Who?!" Petra pressed.

Hange placed their glass of wine on the coffee table between them and raised their hands slowly. Then, using the index and middle fingers of each hand, smoothed their eyebrows from the middle outwards and Petra choked out a laugh;

"The Commander!"

"That's neither for me to confirm or deny." They said, nodding and smiling.

Petra fell back into the sofa, giggling, "…was Squad Leader Mike there too?"

"I have no idea." They said, but continued nodding and their smile widened.

"Wow - I'm impressed! In a strange way, that makes me even more proud to be a scout."

"Theft?" Hange blinked.

"No, the attitude - sticking it to them!" She raised her wine glass to the sentiment in an enthusiastic toast, which caused more than a drop of wine to leap from the glass, and land in a large splash across Petra's white shirt. She gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth.

"Oh - balls - I'm not even slightly drunk I swear!" She swiftly placed the wine glass down and began pawing at her ruined shirt.

Hange cackled and made their way over, holding out their handkerchief,

"Happens to the best of us my dear." They sat on the arm of the sofa.

"Gee. Oh, thanks." She muttered taking the white square of fabric and dabbing at her chest, though it didn't really do much except spread the bleeding crimson around her shirt. Petra's eyebrow's twitched erratically and she tumbled into flustering and muttering curses, her cheeks heating up.

"Here." Hange took the cloth from her and gently pressed it to the stain at the top of Petra's chest, "Don't dab, hold. Then the handkerchief will absorb as much of the excess wine as possible. Having said that you'll still need to give it a bleach for at least ten minutes when you get back to the quarters, and even then…"

They caught eyes. Petra couldn't explain her feelings in that moment, as they were utterly confused, but she felt an urge to place her hand over Hange's. Their eyes shone with sparkling light and they smiled at her, though within the smile there was something else.

Petra held her breath. Why was she drawn to them? Now of all times? Was it perhaps that her heart, beaten down from its daily ravaging of unrequited longing for Captain Levi, had started to crave reciprocation? Here, sat right in front of her, was someone wonderful, intelligent and attractive, someone who'd previously admitted to having feelings for her…someone within reach, who wasn't a distant and unattainable dream…and she felt an impulse to lean in…

"Be patient my dear."

A small, sad twinkle graced their large brown eyes behind their glasses and they removed the pressure on the handkerchief;

"A peach tree takes many seasons of growth before it bears fruit, but that first bite…is the sweetest."

Petra blinked, her amber eyes doll-like as she intently studied their face.

They softened, tucking the single strand of hair that had come loose from Petra's braid behind her ear,

"It can be hard when our time is so fleeting, and I would never claim to be an expert in such things but…we have to shoot for what we really want, rather than settle for what's in front of us." They looked down momentarily, and a shadow of a smirk appeared on their lips,

"Besides…the peach tree might be a stubborn ass, but it needs care and attention as much as any other tree in the garden. Actually, I'm certain it needs it the most."

Petra swallowed, face crimson, eyebrows knit together, "…I - I don't have a peach tree…"

They smiled knowingly, "Don't you?" Then cocked their head to the side, inquisitively, "When was the last time you went out into the garden?"

Her breath quickened, "Hunh…"

She couldn't form a sentence. She was chewing her lip, thoughts whirling through her mind like wildfire in the wind.

"…ha…has this…peach tree…would you say…grown up in the dark?"

Their smile widened and they looked off towards the fireplace;

"Oh absolutely. Really, it's a marvel that it exists at all. It has gnarled old bark and clawed branches that scratch at you if you try to get too close. But some would say that all it really needs is a little sunlight."

Petra's breath stuttered and her shoulders dropped. If what they were saying was true then…

"I'm sorry." She said quietly.

It had never been her intention to use Hange in such a way, and she was eternally grateful that the scientist had stopped her before she made a thoughtless, impulsive mistake. Her feelings were making her a little crazy; she'd never been one to toy with other people's emotions until she'd started bottling up her own.

They squeezed her shoulder; their grin morphed into one of gratitude,

"Let's get you back to the barracks, you'll want to get that shirt soaking in bleach as soon as possible, or you might have to buy a new one."

Shirt bleaching in a bucket, Petra spent the remainder of the evening sat up in her bed, staring at the wall.

The evening was really dragging on.

Mike and Nanaba sat on Erwin's office couch, hand in hand. Levi leant against the bookcase, glass of unfulfilling whiskey in hand, scowling while a tipsy Erwin conversed with them about some garbage or other from his armchair.

"What was her name?" Nanaba asked.

"Marie." Mike replied.

A small, nostalgic smile passed Erwin's face.

"A pretty name," Nanaba said, "What's the story?"

"There isn't one." Erwin stated, standing and moved to his desk to fill up his wine glass (again), "She married Nile Dok."

The sound of the trickling alcohol permeated the room.

Levi tilted his head, "You sure that's a good idea?"

Erwin smiled but he didn't stop pouring, "There can be nothing more frequent than an occasional drink*."

Levi rolled his eyes.

"Is Marie the reason you stole all those sofas?" Nanaba's eyebrow raised, and then she turned and looked accusatorially at Mike.

"Uh…" Mike scratched his beard and glanced at Erwin, who smiled cunningly;

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about." He took a sip of his wine, returning to his armchair, "Though, I wouldn't begrudge anyone for wanting to test the efficacy of the Military Police, whatever their reason for doing so."

Mike chuckled.

"Ah." Nanaba picked up her glass, "To love then. May it never tempt us to steal."

"Hm." Mike smirked, glancing at Nanaba, "To love; that makes us more than what we are."

A light blush rose across Nanaba's cheeks.

Erwin raised his glass,

"To love; that comes quietly and unannounced, may we never regret basking in its light while we can."

He caught Levi's eye and, with a knowing tilt of the head, toasted towards him.

Levi swallowed but his dry throat stuck. His bones felt like they were made of jelly, and he had to tense every muscle around them just to stay in position. Only minutes later, he'd found that he'd excused himself, and had paced restlessly back to his office, locking the door behind him.

Levi spent the remainder of the evening in his office chair, staring blankly down at the wood of his desk.

The next evening was warm, the air was thick and the full moon occasionally peaked out from behind the purplish-blue clouds. Faintly between the trees, oil lamps glowed at the top of the rudimentary wooden supply shacks of the static training zone.

The weather meant visibility was patchy for night practice, but they were the Special Operations Squad: they worked in the trickiest conditions, for the longest hours.

Petra was stood intently watching the Captain as he briefly went over their strategy.

It was the first time any of them had seen him all day; he'd had an appointment earlier visiting a child of a donor to the scouts who'd wanted to meet their hero. The Commander would always make use of an opportunity for good publicity, no matter how short-tempered the scout's 'poster-boy'.

As her eyes scanned his face, her heart stuttered precariously, and she had the pervading sensation that she was stood at the edge of a high cliff, staring down into an abyss.

He'd paired her off with him; it'd been happening more and more frequently the past couple of months, but she'd always just thought that was because of their similar stature, they were ideally matched for a joint dispatch, plus she was just about the only soldier that could keep up with him speed-wise. However, her conversation with Hange had changed everything. What they'd implied…that Captain Levi was…in her garden…or something less sexual sounding…although…

Gunther and Eld were paired to take the right hand side, and Oruo the centre, helping either pairing where possible. They grunted in acknowledgement of the instruction.

She'd always been so full of hope, ever since she was a child, but for months now she'd been working against her very nature - and now to find out that she should have just trusted herself, gone with her gut…

Preliminary strategy discussion over, they leapt from the platform and stormed through the course, Petra and the Captain taking the left hand side. He had yet to look at her even once, but her realisation of that didn't hang around long, as the rushing air and darkness immediately blew away all of her auxiliary thoughts - the difficulty of the task required her full concentration. It was nearly impossible to see him, a shadow between the shadows, only the glinting of his blades occasionally gave him away as he darted between the trees.

It had barely been ten minutes since they began the exercise when a rumbling crash of thunder unfurled across the sky, the soundtrack to Petra's shattering of a target. Proving it were possible, everything darkened further. With a hesitant look up, her eyes widened. The moon had fallen behind a thick layer of dark cloud, and the trees were now scarcely distinguishable from the spaces betwixt them.

In a flash, it began; rain shattering down in giant, freezing droplets, the kind that drenched you within seconds and ear-splitting thunder roared again.

Soaked, cloak sticking to every inch of her and constantly blinking water out of her eyes, Petra tried to make out the whereabouts of any member of her squad, when hail came pelting from the sky, biting at her skin with each tiny, icy strike.

From somewhere nearby to her right she heard the squeal of an emergency noise round; an instruction from the Captain to halt their task and either regroup or take cover. Since regrouping with the current visibility wasn't an option, the next best thing would be to find the nearest supply shack and take cover to wait out the storm.

A bright white sheet of lightning briefly illuminated the trees, and it was just enough for her to catch the Captain spin down towards a glowing oil lamp.

Lungs rattling and nose numb, she followed, the faint flickering light her only point of reference. She would make it. Diving through the darkness and sprinting across the increasingly slippy ground to the creaky wooden door of the shack beneath the lamp, she practically threw herself inside; a trembling mess. The door slammed behind her and she blinked the room into view. Or, she would have, if it weren't almost completely pitch black inside.

At least it wasn't hailing in here.

From her memory of being inside these tiny supply cabins they were small, windowless, packed floor to ceiling around the walls with stack of crates, something she got immediate confirmation of after she took a step in the wrong direction and kicked one.

"Ow! Mother of-"

"You alright?"

It was hard to hear him at first over the clattering of hail hitting the wood, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the point where she could just about see a shadow of him sat on a shorter stack of crates a couple of metres away, chin in hand, elbow on knee.

"Sir. Yes, fine - I'm - fine. Thank you for asking."

She stood quietly for a second, waiting as giant globules of rain dribbled off every inch of her, then took a sharp breath in,

"Are you - are you alright sir? That was-"

"Mm."

The hail rattled the shack with the crashing volume of a heavy waterfall, but Petra still felt the silence between them. She became very conscious of the sound of her own breath too, which shivered with her as she tried to regulate it.

Wringing out the sopping ends of her heavy, water-logged cloak, she un-hooked her blade boxes and made to sit on a single crate, a little relieved that it was in fact a real crate, and not a shadow of one. It was a gamble in this light - she wouldn't have put it past herself to sit into an empty space thinking it was one and accidentally collapse in a heap on the floor instead - and the situation was awkward enough already.

Minutes passed: pounding hail, her quivering breath, more pounding hail. She sniffled. If they didn't make it somewhere warm soon, every single one of the squad would definitely catch a cold. They were almost certainly in the same position: miserably sat, cold and wet in different supply shacks across the zone.

Captain Levi hadn't moved at all, not even a twitch; she couldn't even hear him breathing. So still and silent…

She smiled, her eyes, having adjusted slightly to the dimness, could pick out a little more of his shape through the darkness.

"It needs care and attention as much as any other tree in the garden. Actually, I'm certain it needs it the most."

She'd made a quiet vow to herself last year, to look out for him (even in spite of her own feelings), and looking out for him meant reading between the lines; working out what he needed. But she'd been a fool. She'd ignored all the signs; been excusing them - deciding what they meant for him. The softness and curiosity that occasionally shone like a many-sided blue jewel in his eyes. The moment or two in his office when he'd bent to her wishes and overlooked her insubordination. When he'd willingly sought her out to learn from her, brushed her face tenderly. Asked her advice. Picked her on expeditions to be at his side, when Eld was his second. Looked over at her while the squad ate dinner. It all suddenly made so much sense, and Petra hadn't been doing her job properly; hadn't kept her own lousy vow.

He was just a man; a guarded, grumpy man with some kind of superhuman powers; but a man with flaws and emotions all the same. Feelings he barely showed to the world but…he'd been showing them to her, over and over again. She'd never seen that light in him when he spoke to anyone else.

What had she been expecting? For a man infamous for his taciturnity to talk to her about how he felt without any encouragement? For a deeply selfless man, whose burden from mankind weighed on him so heavily, to have the means to broach something so comparatively trivial to him as his own happiness?

Maybe she deserved to stand out in the hail and the rain until she drowned for her lunacy.

She was special to him. He'd been showing her that she was the whole time.

She cleared her throat-

"I-"'

"Petra." He grumbled. "I can hear your damn shivering from here."

Huh? No, now wasn't the time, she needed to tell him-

"Captain Levi, sir, I-"

"Tch." He sighed and stood from his perch. "Come here."

Her mouth hung open as she stared into the darkness at his phantom silhouette.

"Petra."

"…right." She answered dubiously, standing, unsure what she was venturing towards and not just because she couldn't see properly.

"Take off your cloak. And jacket."

She gulped, her voice shaky with her trembling, "Uh…why sir?"

He sighed exhaustedly and she thought she could see his fingers massaging his temples in the dim light.

"Because they're soaking wet. You won't warm up with them on."

Oh. Wait. What was he suggesting?

She slowly placed her cloak and jacket on the crate she'd been sat on and took two unsteady steps towards him. Instantly she felt some warmth radiating from him.

He snorted, "Closer. You never huddled before or what?"

Another hesitant step brought her right up to him. She could just about make out that he'd shed his cloak and jacket too. For a second they stood, nose to nose in the dark. Then he pulled his arms strongly around her and drew her into him, her chin coming to rest over his left shoulder. Timidly, she brought her hands up around his back, kind of hovering over, barely touching the fabric of his shirt.

She was still shaking, but it no longer felt like it was due to the cold. He must have been able to feel the hammering of her heart, it was so much louder than the hail tumbling over the shack. Tingling shivers crawled around her, and her skin rippled with goosebumps.

As they held one another, gradually warming up, their breath fell into unison, the feel of his back rising and falling under her hands in time with hers brought her down from her spiralling, and she sensed herself relaxing into his hold.

She focused on the steady thrum of his heart beat, lulling hers into rhythm. Heat radiated from his chest into hers and she smiled faintly at the scent of his soap.

She took a deep, stabilising breath.

Gradually she eased her herself back slightly in his arms, bringing them face to face again. Try as she might she couldn't sense his expression, though they were only centimetres apart.

…

Ever so slowly, she leant in until her lips were brushing his.

He did nothing, as she'd expected, and so she pushed her kiss with a tiny amount more force before pulling away, an action that felt for all the world like pressing a seal into some warm wax. She'd made her mark.

The air was dark and full between them, and her heart pounded into the silence, the racket of hail long forgotten.

Then, catching her somewhat off guard, he came to her, tightening his arms around her back and returning his lips to hers.

Levi's heart had started thudding so hard he was certain it would burst out of him. Her lips were unbearably soft. In the dark, no one could see them, no one would know. It was like it wasn't happening. Like he'd shut his eyes and was living inside his own dream. A perfect sleep; her light breaths puffing against his cheek, her beautiful body moulding itself into his. The dull sweetness of her vanilla enveloping him in a shawl of invisible mist.

He'd been kissed before, perhaps once or twice, but they were borne out of frenzied hormones, rough, ugly and sloppy; buried in the garbage pile of his memories. He'd never been kissed like this, by someone who poured into him a healing balm with every minuscule movement, someone who was paying attention to him, who he really was. Undercover of darkness, through the movements of her lips and hands, he felt for the first time like he'd been seen.

Petra's breath was sticking in her throat, cold drops of rain from his wet hair and hers were rolling down their cheeks, but she didn't want it to stop. It was so chaste, so sweet, so unlike what she'd always imagined and yet so perfect. As though she'd met him at the end of a long nocturnal corridor, and rather than the rush of lust being the first moment, she was delighted that a careful consideration of one another was instead. They were feeling each other out, dipping a toe.

Simply, she hadn't imagined him to be so shy, and yet, given even one moments thought, such a notion made perfect sense with the tiny jewel of sweetness she'd glimpsed in him on those rare occasions. She'd coaxed him out of his hiding and something within her was whispering, take your time, don't push him, wait for him...

They barely made a sound beyond moving lips and the huff-puff of slight breaths, quiet in the rapture of new discovery.

She broke from him, and felt him jolt with hesitation, before touching her nose to his and nuzzling sweetly. To reassure him further, she pressed her forehead to his, her hands ghosting up his back, fingers twisting slightly in the leather straps of his harness. Comforted, she sensed him close his eyes, felt a hot, heavy exhale of his breath on her lips.

Levi began to wonder if he'd died in the storm. Misfired a hook, plummeted to his demise. This could only be that paradise rumoured to exist when you passed on. He never wanted it to end. He never thought he could experience so much elation in the darkness of home.

Her hands moved teasingly around to his front, to just above the band of his trousers. Eyes closed, he focused only on their movement as they loosely began to tug on the front straps of his harness, encouraging him forward, and he realised opening his eyes with a startled flutter that she was beginning to take steps backward towards the wall. He obliged, following her steps, spellbound by her nearly-invisible movement as she towed him lightly by the harness, gathering momentum until her back hit against a pile of crates with the clatter on clatter of jostling wood and she giggled softly.

He couldn't get close enough. Practically falling into her, his eager hands mapped her body, memorising every contour of her back, every smooth curve of her frame while he once again pushed their foreheads together, basking in her snatched expectant breaths as she did the same to him. That she was letting him do this was surely preposterous; none of it could be real. It had to be seen to be believed, and it couldn't be seen, so…

His own breath tumbled from him erratically as he once again took her lips, moving with more force than before; a man who hadn't realised how starving he was until he'd taken his first bite.

Petra was dizzy with bliss from his impatient hands, from his building pace.

Unexpectedly, he quit the kiss, his nose grazing hers, frozen in position, as though he was considering something. Then, he gently took her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly, coaxing her to open her mouth for him. She obliged and he moved against her a little roughly, his tongue clashing against hers.

Clearly unsure of himself, she felt him falter, but she met him, encouraging him with her movements and began to slowly guide him.

She suddenly felt like the most powerful person in the world.

He was remarkable, reading and mirroring her almost exactly, deepening the kiss until they moved harmoniously around one another, a warm, wet dance in the dark. Even for a man so evidently inexperienced with such things, she wasn't worried. She knew only too well of his physical prowess, attention to detail, that he was a fast learner, and it was thrilling to feel him quickly growing in confidence (and other areas).

Levi relished learning her, intensifying their connection, pulling her body up against his over and over. Closer. Closer.

The telltale ache of longing had long since begun between his legs and he gave a breathy "uhh" as her hand moved up through his undercut. She whimpered as he slid his hand down the side of her left leg, then lifted her, so he was carrying her full weight up against the crates, her legs clamping around him, his hands on her ass, his raging erection pressing up against the warmth of her. It was damn near painful already, and he found himself involuntarily bucking his hips into her, searching for some respite, and she cried out feebly in response, which only served to spur him on and he dropped his nose into the groove of her neck and began nipping at her skin, all the while she struggled to suppress her gasping cries. She sounded even better than in his dreams.

"Captain…" She breathed, and he stopped, moving his lips to her ear,

"Levi." He said, his voice rumbling low in his chest, sure she could feel the vibrations of it.

She sucked in air and exhaled his name in a whisper.

"Levi…"

If he wasn't so wretchedly desperate for her, he might have savoured the moment of her hesitancy, saying his name as though she wasn't sure she was allowed to. As it was, his body was demanding relief from his suffering, urging him on, and it was all he could do not to shred her whole stupid-ass uniform with his bare hands.

Petra liked how his name tasted in her mouth.

"Levi…ah!"

There was nothing she didn't like. Her blood was singing, her muscles a frenzy of sparks, her spirit turbulent with passion. She was floating through the stars, light and wild, hopeless for him, her body begging for him to fill the space within her which had never before felt so empty.

Grappling her ass and catching her lips again he pushed her with some force up against the crates to the sound of a tumbling crash - somewhere through the gloom to their side a whole stack of them had thundered to the ground.

"Well, shit." He mumbled and she giggled, pulling his face towards hers again, already missing the feel of his skin.

Seconds later however, they were disturbed by another, much quieter creaking noise.

The muscles of his arms and back suddenly tensed and he pulled away, then lowered her to the ground. She stumbled a bit as her feet found the floor again, stunned at the speed at which the passion had drained from him.

Then, with a light brush of her cheek with his hand, he walked away into the gloom.

Anger and embarrassment were rising through her like a great wave. Trembling once more, she made to follow him, when the door to the shack swung open with a smack, and there, lit by bright moonlight, a confused expression on his face, was Oruo.

The storm had passed.

"Uh…Captain? You in here?" Oruo asked, scratching his head and peering into the shadowed shack.

His question was answered as the man himself pushed passed him back outside, his jacket and cloak slung over his shoulder.

She watched him standing still between the tree trunks, the rectangular doorway framing him like a large old painting. He held out his hand, and glanced up into the now clear skies;

"Regroup. Find the others and meet at the starting platform."

Then he was gone, zipped off into the night.

Notes:

You: It's been 84 years!

Me: I'm sorry but you shouldn't have picked Hermes as your courier. After approximately 20,000 attempts, your romance storyline will be delivered.

Jk ive never known Hermes to attempt to redeliver anything.

Prev chapter had more in the way of tactics moments + covered events from OVA Ilse's Notebook!

*Erwin is quoting Oscar Wilde

Chapter 12: The Captain's Pet

Notes:

hiiiii

i have to say ive been a bit bowled over by some comments recently...everyone is far too nice its honestly improved this month no end. ive been having a really rough old time the past few weeks, so much so that writing has slowed to a trundle and im not able to keep up with what i set out. reading u guys' thoughts and knowing some people are interested in where its headed has really made it a lot better, so thank u endlessly 3

im not sure again if there'll be anything next week, but rest assured im still working on it as often as i can

warning for the lactose intolerant: some cheese ahead
warning for the spice intolerant: some spice ahead

Chapter Text

It took Petra several minutes of furious confusion to gather her things in the dark shack and throw them across her body.

If Levi thought that storm was bad, he hadn't seen anything yet. She'd show him a real storm. She'd show him a goddamn hurricane.

Oruo jumped and squeaked when she charged out of the shack into the muddy, moonlit woodland of the outside.

"Petra! I was just about to look for you-"

"Well you found me." She snapped, not looking at him, and launched herself into the trees.

"For fuck's - ugh - wait up." Oruo grumbled, chasing after her.

Within ten minutes the squad were re-assembled at the starting platform. Petra's jaw was clenched and she was staring hotly at the wooden slats beneath her feet. If they weren't drenched from the rain, she was certain they would have ignited from her gaze.

"Dismissed. Return to the barracks."

It was all he said, and once again, he dissolved away into the darkness. She was starting to hate that she could predict when he was going to do that.

Petra was mute as the rest of squad chattered about how soaked they were and the utter failure of the exercise as they walked across the dark field back to the barracks. Mud squelched underfoot, and the wet grass glinted slightly in the moon and distant lamps of the compound, though the gloom still made the consistency of each step somewhat uncertain.

Gunther quickly picked up on Petra's silence;

"What's up Red? Did you struggle to get to cover in time?"

She didn't respond, eyes fixed to the grass. He frowned.

Eld caught his eye with a glint of worry, then looked to her;

"Whatever happened out there, it can't be as bad as mine and Gunther's trip. You'd think a storm was a prime opportunity for some fun conversations, but he barely spoke to me once we made it into the shack."

"That's because you insisted on playing 'I-spy' in the dark. There was nothing to spy!"

"You gotta get creative man. I spy with my little eye something beginning with with 'L'" He pointed at Gunther, "Loser!"

Oruo growled, grumpy from his solo ordeal; "How about something beginning with 'S' - 'Shut your hole'."

Eld batted him over the back of the head and he swiftly bit his tongue.

Levi wasn't in the barracks. She supposed he might have been in his room, but there was no light under the door, and, given the situation, it seemed unlikely. They were all too cold to go to bed yet anyway. She stood stock-still in the corridor, while the guys busied themselves; Oruo fetched some buckets to wash their muddy boots, while Gunther started the fire and Eld put water on the boil for tea. He leant through the doorway and eyed her with concern; she hadn't moved beyond the point at which she'd absent-mindedly hung up her soaking coat and jacket when she first came in.

"Hey - you alright?"

She simply stared emptily back at him.

The frown line between his brow deepened, "Why don't you come in? You should get some tea, warm-up."

"I'm going out." She replied, shutting the door behind her.

—

"Wait-"

Well fuck.

Eld scratched his head and wandered back into the common room.

Gunther glanced up from the fireplace, "That Petra?"

"She left."

They looked at each other for a minute, uneasy.

"Tch - Outta the way shit-beard." Oruo grumbled barrelling past Eld, water splashing out all over the floor from his clearly overfilled bucket. In his other hand he held an empty one, towel over his shoulder. He plopped himself down on the sofa and laid out the towel on the floor. Beside him, three pairs of soiled boots stood in a row. He pulled a sponge out of the empty bucket and dunked it in the full one, wringing it out. Loudly trickling water was the only sound in the room.

Only then did Oruo catch the concern of his comrades.

"What?"

"Did you see anything?" Eld asked him directly.

"I'm seeing things all the time." He sassed, "For example, right now I'm seeing a goatee that could do with a trim."

Gunther slapped a hand to his forehead. "Moron." He muttered, returning his attention to the kindling.

"The time for I-spy is over." Eld scolded, "I meant when you found the Captain and Petra in the woods - did you see anything?"

Oruo mindlessly picked up a boot, squeezing out the sponge over it. Watered-down mud ran off the it into the empty pail.

"It was pitch black, I'm not sure what I was supposed to see. Are you making tea or what?"

Eld scowled, "Yeah." He moved back into the kitchenette, to the now rapidly boiling pot of water. It was close to bubbling up over the sides.

"Well something definitely happened." Gunther uttered quietly, using tongs to push more kindling towards the struggling flame.

"Mm." Eld replied, "Maybe she messed up and he gave her an earful."

"I was thinking that." Gunther added, "I'm not sure she's ever been reprimanded by him one on one. She might've taken it to heart."

"Exactly. As the Captain's favourite I reckon that would have hit her extra hard."

"Or…" Oruo said, placing the now clean boot down on his other side, "Maybe they fucked."

Eld and Gunther fell quiet for a second, staring at him in disbelief, then burst out laughing;

"Yeah right." Gunther chuckled.

"Good one man." Eld guffawed, pouring the boiling water over the tea leaves.

Oruo made a face, picking up the next dirty boot.

Poor Eld. Poor Gunther and Oruo. They were so wonderful, really. But there wasn't space in Petra's mind right now for their concern.

How could he just disappear like that again? Without a goddamn word? He hadn't even called her off to one side after the squad's dismissal - surely this was something that required discussion?

Her blood was at boiling point. She wasn't going to let the events of the evening slip away like a lazy morning's dream. It wasn't over. That couldn't be it.

Near-running, she tore down the office-building hallway past a customarily flustered and still-awake Moblit on his way to the lab;

"Gosh Petra - did you get caught up in the storm? Oh, your f-"

She didn't even look at him, there would be time to apologise later, right now there was only one goal. Heart hammering, she sped to that familiar wooden door, blasting through it without so much as a knock.

Her impassioned breath hurtled in and out of her as she stood in the middle of his office staring daggers.

"You!" She huffed between ragged pants.

He didn't look at her immediately. He was dressed in his cleaning attire, complete with rag around his head, apparently having already changed into a fresh grey long sleeve and slacks underneath his apron. In his gloved hand he held a long match, and he was impassively lighting another candle on the desk.

She briefly took in the scene, a faint smell of bleach, a full bucket of mucky water sitting on a towel on the floor by the bookcase, dirty rag draped over the side. His boots sat on the towel pristinely, uniform trousers and shirt hung up above them on a hanger off of a shelf, dripping slightly as they'd already clearly been met with some furious scrubbing. On the desk, his harness and ODM gear were laid out, having been partially taken apart, presumably next in line to be cleaned.

Fascinating really that he'd managed to do so many things in the time since he'd dismissed them, though, she suspected that this would only be the first of several laundering attempts of the items.

At her single word his eyes flitted to her, then to her feet, which were bare. She'd furiously thrown her boots off by the entrance to the office building, hands shaking with irritation as she sat on the cold, hard floor, peeling off her dirt-caked socks, because dammit, as raging as she was, she wasn't about to traipse mud through his office. She cared about him too much for that.

…

And besides she didn't want a dirty floor to scare him to death, that was her job. That didn't prevent the soles of her feet freezing on the stone slabs of the corridor as she'd raced along it though.

She must have looked a state.

"You can't just-" She began again, realising that her fire had taken over her brain, and was burning up every sentence as it appeared, rendering her furious thoughts utterly incoherent.

He simply watched her inexpressively, quietly waving out the match and placing it on his desk.

"It's." She bit out, then grit her teeth, growling with irritation as she struggled to find the right words…any words.

Why wasn't he saying anything? Face beet red, she began to ferociously pace;

"You're - a peach tree - you-"

"Huh?"

She stopped pacing and looked at him.

"A peach tree. Hange said that y- what?" She snapped on catching his expression - his eyes which had dropped to the desk, and the smallest hint of a smile curling on his lips.

Was he…smirking? Petra sucked air in again, she wasn't going to cry in front of him. Not like this. She took a trembling step forward, her voice much shriller than even she was expecting;

"Is this some kind of a joke to you?"

"Joke?"

Immediately his eyes snapped back to her, his face set in a shadowed frown. On mining the grey depths of his irises she found a trace of hurt.

"Do you think this is something I would joke about?"

Her breath hitched as he came around to the front of the desk holding her eye-line the whole way, and stopped a metre or so from her. He had such an accomplished way of pushing whoever he was talking to onto the back foot.

"I…don't…" She swallowed, collecting herself, "…then, why were you smiling?"

"You said I was a peach tree." He replied flatly.

Oh.

Her eyes fell to her frozen feet, her fists pulsing by her sides. Even through her haze of wrath she could see his point there.

He leant back on the desk and folded his arms, scrutinising her,

"Been called many things before, but that one was a first."

"Fine." She sniffed, teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip, then her words crossly shot from her like rapid-fire;

"But that doesn't give you the right to just - ! - and then zip the hell away as if nothing even-"

"What would you have had me do?"

His voice was flat and quiet, his eyes soft. Blues and greys glimmered through them like a sparkling kaleidoscope and she was getting lost, falling into them-

"No!" She shouted, mostly at herself. Then with a deep breath, "I don't care how pretty you are, you don't get to just look at me like that and have me forget about it."

"Pretty?" He blinked, "I wasn't trying to do that." There wasn't any hint of anger in him, he was completely collected, the antithesis to her sparking volatility.

"What would you have had me do?"

He asked it again with a touch more emphasis. It felt like a question he'd learned watching the Commander negotiate.

Petra averted her eyes.

"Not - that." Her voice wobbled, but she forced it into compliance, "Not making me feel like I was something to you then disappearing without a word."

She tentatively glanced back at him.

A quiet second passed between them before he broke the contact, thin brows knit.

He opened his mouth and she heard his breath waver a little. Then he uncrossed his arms and began removing his cleaning gloves, busying himself…unusual for him.

"I, uh…" His brow twitched, and there again the shyness emerged, tugging at her heartstrings. He was blinking more than she'd ever seen before, and placed the gloves behind him on the desk, "This…"

Watching him struggle like this was doing things to her. She had the overwhelming urge to throw her arms around him, tell him it was alright, to forget it, stroke his hair, squeeze his hand reassuringly. But darn it he didn't deserve that, not until she had an explanation.

"I - was concerned about Oruo showing up, asking questions…" He said, "I thought it was better to discuss it first."

Oh.

Of course, he must have heard that the storm'd died down; realised the guys would be back outside waiting for his instruction - and with Oruo stationed the nearest to them, it only made sense that of their searching squad mates he'd find them first.

But that didn't explain his disappearing act afterwards.

She cleared her throat insistently, "So you just assumed I would follow you here to 'discuss' it?"

"…was I wrong?"

Damn him. How did he always do it? How did he always come out on top, no matter the situation? It was infuriating.

She snorted angrily, "And what if I hadn't come here? Would that have been it?"

"Of course not, but," His brow twitched again, and again he looked away, "If you hadn't, then I might have thought you regretted it. The choices we make only hold meaning in how they affect the next choice, so…"

She glared at him, chest heaving. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay mad.

She pulled in another deep breath, "So, what?"

"So…what's your next choice?"

The question immediately cleared her spinning mind. Everything aligned within her as she replied;

"You. I choose you. I always will."

His frown melted and he looked a touch startled. It was the most expressive she'd ever seen him.

"That's-"

"Less practical than you meant? Yes."

The reason Petra got so angry so quickly, was because she cared so deeply. She put her all into things, she was loyal, and once she'd decided something was worth her time, she'd stick with it until the end, no matter how perilous the journey, how rocky the road. Her core beliefs never wavered, even once. She was a born scout: devoting one's heart to the cause required unshakable diligence, and those comrades who truly possessed such a quality, were bonded both in life and death.

He was looking at her, his lips slightly parted, his brows slack.

"I can't give you…"

"Levi." Her voice came suddenly and strongly, "I knew what I was giving up when I enlisted. No scout joins with half a heart, something I think you know. I've thought about my priorities, and I know that my life will probably be short…but if it can be sweet too, then that's all the better. And just being around you has…" She collected herself, "…has made it so much sweeter."

He was a statue, watching her with a troubled expression.

"It's not my intention to distract you from your role and it never will be. I could never forgive myself if I did such a thing. But - and I hope this isn't asking too much - if I can lift you up, help you be your best, maybe even have some small moments of your free time," Her left hand was squeezing her right so tightly that there couldn't have been any blood left in it, "…then that's what I want to do…if you'll have me." She brought herself to look at him directly, passion flickering once more; "Screw it, even if you won't I'm still going to make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, because damn it Captain, Maria knows-"

The warmth of his strong, slender hands pushed in the at the tops of her arms and he now stood right before her, the ice of his eyes harpooning her into silence,

"I can't prioritise you."

"I - know."

"Nothing about our working relationship can change at all. You screw up in drills or in the field, I'll reprimand you. I won't think twice about putting you on toilet duty. I won't be nice."

"Yes."

"I mean it. Even if you're inches from death and my orders from Erwin are to do nothing, then that's what I have to do."

It was clear to her that he was saying it for himself as much as he was saying it for her. She swallowed with resolve, and gave a small nod;

"Yes."

"This doesn't benefit you in any way."

"That depends if you see happiness as a benefit, sir." Then licked her lips, a mindless habit, but she noticed his eyes slip to them for the shortest second.

His brow twitched again.

"Pet…"

Petra's eyes widened. He dropped his gaze down, unsure of himself.

A faint blush rose on her cheeks, her heart fluttering like a baby bird. He'd called her 'Pet' once before in this very room, by accident, and the Commander of all people was present. Not a word was spoken about it by any of the three of them, but there was an ubiquitous strangeness in the air afterwards, and Petra hadn't allowed herself to hope for what it might mean. But now…

"Levi…" She whispered, bringing her right hand up to his cheek and caressing it, her thumb moved in tiny back and forth motions across his skin, which was unbelievably soft, and a small part of her wondered about his shaving routine.

In response, he took his hand from her shoulder and brought it to the her wrist. He gently moved her hand away from his face. Something about his expression meant that she didn't feel disheartened by the action though, quite the opposite, and she was proven right as he then unbuttoned the cuff of her shirt, and in a deliberate, measured fashion, rolled her sleeve up to her elbow. Her hand relaxed and she watched in dazed fascination as he ghosted his fingers up the skin of her forearm so lightly it was almost ticklish, then returned his grip to the back of her wrist and held it in place as he moved his lips to the sensitive skin at the inner part and pressed a soft kiss to it.

He continued to kiss that same spot with tender precision, as his other hand slid lazily around to the small of her back, directing her to step in closer to him. She tentatively complied, bringing their bodies almost flush against one another, but still an agonising inch of empty air remained.

He brought his lips away from her wrist and finally looked at her.

Levi was lost for words, and it appeared that she was too. She gazed back at him, startled doe-eyes fluttering, the low candlelight glittering within them, just like it had a thousand times before in this very office. Her eyes always got him, it was exactly why he'd always thought they were stupid - too alluring, like they'd been divinely designed to disarm whichever poor bastard looked into them, like they were a trap from an old myth Erwin would bang on about from time to time. A honeytrap.

The darkness of the supply shack made it easy, the whole situation might've been a mad delusion brought about by the freak storm; but in the low, flickering light of his office it was suddenly completely preposterous that she was looking at him with those eyes.

He was an ugly man, he'd been told as much, but it'd never bothered him. Where he came from he hardly had time to be concerned with it. So now, he didn't understand at all what she was seeing - he couldn't even fathom it - because it was inconceivable that it was him, and yet, after everything she'd said, how she'd reacted to the evening's events, it had to be. It was a beautiful equation that didn't balance at all, and he was certainly undeserving of it.

A little sparkle moved through her liquid amber irises, and she brought her free hand up to her chest and unbuckled the top strap of her harness, then she moved it to her collar, and began to unbutton her shirt, gazing at him all the while. He tightened his grip on her wrist, and grit his teeth. He couldn't control his breathing, couldn't prevent his eyes wandering down as with each undone button more and more flawless skin became visible until the tops of her breasts peeked between the open cotton 'v' of her shirt. They were displayed in a basic white bra with only a simple lace trim decorating their roundness. They weren't particularly large, perhaps a little more than a handful, but presented in such a delicate way, pert and full and perfect.

He took a shaky breath in and redirected his eyes to a far off corner of the room.

As much as he wanted this, he still deeply disliked that he was not in control of his crude, animal response to her, and his desire was once again palpable and threatening to depose any rationality that remained in him.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet Captain…" Within her quiet voice, there was a smile.

Catching her eyes once more he replied;

"Speak for yourself."

Then glanced down to her bare feet.

Her musical giggle was cut short by his ardent kiss, his hand on her back forcing her to occupy the frozen inch of empty space that remained, his body crying out for her closeness, her touch. They fit together so perfectly, heated bodies curling around each other, aching and desperate to blur every boundary that lay between them.

Somewhere within the euphoric haze of lips pressed ravenously against one another's, Levi realised he'd forgone the rag around his head, and his apron. He felt like a lunatic; the tiny voice telling him to check that they weren't crumpled and strewn about the floor was fading ever further into the background and, as he broke from the kiss, he found that he was instead frantically trying to undo the remaining buttons of her shirt. Grumbling in frustration at how fiddly they were, he gave up and just ripped the garment apart, popping off the buttons which rattled as they hit the floorboards. He must've loved her that he didn't even stop to check where all the buttons had landed; that he didn't even feel the need to sweep them away to one side.

In kind, she dragged his grey shirt over his head between her breaths of desperate excitement and couldn't contain her awed gasp as she lay her eyes on his sculpted torso. Throwing the garment to the side, her small, clean hands moved instantly to his muscles, which began involuntarily rippling with her touch. It was at that point he realised how long it had been since anyone had touched his skin at all, and he was hesitant to admit that his twitchy response might have been borne out of nerves. But, he wanted this; Erwin was right, he would regret not basking in this feeling if he'd missed his chance to, he was implausibly lucky in the first place that the universe had gifted him the option, and so he wasn't going to let any worry about the uncharted territory of the experience thwart it.

For a minute or so he simply watched as she discovered him; a corporeal cartographer, a queen surveying her new kingdom.

The hankering look in her eyes as she took him in was almost an out of body experience; he was caught somewhere between uncomfortable disbelief that anyone could view him with such desire, and blossoming elation that she was seeing him in such a way. With a snatched breath, she tracked her fingers down the dark trail of hair which ran south from his belly button and her fingers slipped under the waistband of his trousers, giving it a suggestive tug. He swallowed as she undid them, and all at once the warmth of her hand was emanating through the thin fabric of his underwear, fully encompassing his erection and he heard a lustful groan, only afterwards realising it had come from his own throat.

Petra's heart beat wildly as she cupped him, the feel of his hard cock under her hand and the growl he emitted was threatening to push her over the edge already, and she was still almost fully clothed. She would have been overstimulated whatever the situation, as it had been over a year since she'd slept with anyone, but the fact that this was her Captain…Levi…the most incredible and beautiful person she'd ever met was driving her crazy, and her brain was fuzzy with craving. She almost felt the need to intermittently pinch herself; this couldn't be reality, it was too close to her dreams.

They began to speed up once more, Levi's breath quivering as he slid her torn shirt off her shoulders to the ground and undid the front of her trousers in an urgent and fumbling frenzy. He pulled them down a little, before lifting her up and sat her on the desk. It took Petra a moment to follow through his logic and she blinked in confusion until he began drawing the tight fabric from her legs, and she straightened them to make it easier for him.

The next thing she knew she was sat in only her white undergarments, legs dangling from his desk as he trailed kisses up them and came to a stop, kneeling before her, his hands on her thighs, from beneath his dark hair and lashes his blue-grey eyes danced with flashes of that just-controlled abandon that was so unique to him. God, he looked so good between her thighs. The air was cold and causing goosebumps, but her skin was on fire and electricity reverberated through her. She was going to burst.

No-one had ever looked so perfect as Petra Ral. The way the pink of her parted lips matched her flushed cheeks, the way her tawny eyes always, always gleamed, the swells of her breasts framed by their elegant bra and the dip of her little waist, right down to her dainty, cold little feet. Every shape of her was impeccable, through her intensive training she was toned with muscle, but she was also so soft and curving in ways that should've been impossible given their regime.

Levi was not a spiritual or religious man, but as he knelt before her, he knew he was worshipping at the altar of a goddess.

Shaking, he brought himself to his feet and pushed himself against her, entangling a hand in her hair and kissing her again to her heated hum. His other hand moved up her body, staying just beneath her bra and he withdrew from the kiss to look at her.

Petra almost giggled. Was he asking her permission to touch her? It was suddenly ludicrous to her that the world saw him as a cold, heartless criminal. Everyone was totally blind, and she was the luckiest son of a gun living that she could see him. Biting her lip and gazing into his eyes, she placed her hand over his and guided it across the top of her bra.

Levi moaned loudly at the feel of it. He rocked against her, groaning uncontrollably as he massaged her breast with his hand, with his other hand pushing her body against his to increase the friction. She gasped at the increased contact between her legs; suddenly, so little separated them. He needed more.

They both needed more.

He freed her breasts after some awkward groping of the bra's clasp, throwing it off to the side and almost salivated at the sight of her beaded pink nipples in the honeyed light, the perfect shape of them. Hungrily, he brought his lips to one, and sucked and licked at it, struggling to ignore the now insufferable aching of his cock. He continued to rut against her to try and ease the discomfort and she whined breathily;

"…more…Levi…"

A wild snarl escaped him, partly furious that his body wasn't letting him savour each moment, too desperate and too touch-starved for too long. Pressing his forehead to hers, he gripped the edges of her underwear and she lifted herself a little, to allow him to remove them.

An instinctive, carnal "uh" sounded from him as he beheld the golden ginger-blonde fuzz of hair between her thighs and he impulsively moved to stroke her, his eyes glued to his own hand's movements.

"Here…" She whispered, guiding him to that sensitive spot, showing him how to move his fingers and his breath came in uncontrollable stutters as a warm wetness met his skin.

"Y-you're…" He quietly stammered, then followed the glint in her eyes that told him to move his hand more, build the pace.

Petra was fighting not to lose herself completely or cry with overwhelming joy. As she began to fade in and out of reality, riding the easy waves of nirvana, she leant back, her hands supporting her on the desk and arched her back so that her tits pointed upwards, and her head fell back, fully exposing her neck to him. Her soul sparkled and bursts of tiny glittering tingles began to spread from her vulva outwards through the rest of her. She wanted to last longer, and so she didn't look at him, instead focusing on the wooden beams of the ceiling, but pleasure was overpowering her, and his fingers rubbing against her clit were eliciting higher and higher cries that she couldn't contain if she'd tried.

There was a clap as she roughly grabbed his arm, halting him. She assuaged his momentary shock with a small smile, and eased the pressure on his arm to instead guide his hand to her entrance. The sharp, gorgeous lines of his face and chest seemed to come spectacularly into her view as his fingers slid inside her,

"Ah!"

For a moment they stopped, breath heavy, getting used to the change.

"Like this…" She demonstrated with her hand and he immediately complied. A master of the physical, he used her responses as a guide, constantly refining his movements, discovering what made her sing.

"Yes!"

Her body was hot and wet around him, and Levi was concentrated and curious as he drew increasingly loud and sensual sounds from her. His lips parted in awe as he watched her exquisite expressions, her tits, pert in the candlelight, then back to her face. His underwear had never been so oppressively tight. There was still a part of him that didn't believe what was happening, but it was just so hard to care when he was so close to making her scream, when he was but moments away from hearing that pure sound that he'd spent countless nights and showers imagining. He wanted her to come for him, and because of him. She was the most perfect person he'd ever laid eyes on. Her muscles began to tighten around his fingers and she gasped,

"You…Levi-"

"…huh?"

He slowed the motions of his hand while she swallowed, sitting more upright,

"I…want you."

Words he'd never heard anyone say to him before.

Slowly he withdrew his hand from her and froze a moment as she sat forward, delicately caressing the muscles of his chest again. She pecked him lightly on his lips and palmed his erection through his underwear.

"Can I?"

He gave a stilted nod and she released him from his boxers.

"You're…trembling…" She breathed, running her fingers along the silky smooth, hot skin of his penis.

Then she was kissing him lightly again, chastely, almost as if she weren't gradually moving her hand up and down his length, slicked by the drops of liquid that had formed at the tip. Levi returned her sweet kisses as she moved her hand faster and he squeezed her breasts. It took every atom of his self-control not to jerk his hips into her. Suddenly, he broke the kiss and placed both hands and strongly onto the desk either side of her in an attempt to steady himself.

"s…stop…" He mumbled into her hair, and she did, bringing a hand to his cheek and guiding him to face her.

"Too much?" She asked gently and he nodded.

Then, "Do you want to stop?" Her soft voice continued as her hand moved affectionately through the short bristly hairs of his undercut.

He took some heavy breaths then shook his head. He just needed a moment to calm down, or it would all be over too quickly.

"No." He replied, then took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged.

She hummed, massaging his upper arms and back as and he moved to her neck again, inhaling her, pecking her. Feeling slightly less wild and slightly more ready, he parted from her and they caught eyes.

The air was cold around his cock, but he already knew too well the warm, wet paradise that awaited him.

"Are you sure this is ok?" He said lowly, and she squeezed his hand.

"What do you think?" She smiled.

He cleared his throat,

"I don't wanna uh…"

He was breathing heavily like he'd done an intense workout. He swallowed,

"I don't wanna get you pregnant…"

Petra leant in, nuzzling his nose.

"You won't."

He gave her an intense, but questioning look and she laughed lightly.

"You've been signing off the rations forms sir, I'm surprised you haven't noticed the request for women's contraceptive tablets. I mean…that box certainly wasn't ticked when I first joined your-"

He stopped her with a kiss,

"Levi." He reiterated, "None of this 'sir' bullshit."

She smiled again as they parted and he stood against her. She angled herself up off the desk a little to make the position easier, and placed him in the right spot, and he lifted her, taking her weight from the desk into his arms as she did so.

She was so wet that he glided into her easily, in one smooth long motion. He quivered at the incredible sensation. He wasn't going to last long. He lowered her slightly again, so she was part-rested on the desk.

Petra pulled in an anticipatory breath, getting used to his size, relaxing her body to accommodate him. He was larger than she'd expected, and even though she was impossibly aroused, it was going to take a moment or two to get used to it.

He was leant slightly over her, his hands strongly clasping her ass but he was unmoving, concentrating. She brought her hands up either side of his neck,

"Are you ok?" She said softly, and he gave a small nod.

"Are you?" He faintly choked out after a moment.

"Yes Levi." She replied, and pulled him down into a searing kiss, and he began to slowly move his hips, fucking her as she was half sat on the desk, while she clung on to him, legs clamping around his waist, arms folding around the back of his neck, and leant her head back in bliss, listening to the intermittent, unrestrained moans of his low, velvet voice. A symphony.

The slapping of their skin, the creaking of the rocking desk and the worrying wobbling of the candles all went unnoticed as they fell into each other, souls crashing together with each sigh and pant, each lascivious thrust releasing them from the torment of their months upon months of anguished abstinence.

The smell of their sex rose from their joining as they became wanton, pure, grunting physical beings, thoughtless in the pursuit of the heaven they could only reach through the total surrendering of the self into each other, spirits flowing as one through the connection of their bodies.

Vibrations of golden euphoria pulsed through Petra's every cell as she watched the beads of sweat form across his forehead, strands of his ebony hair sticking a little to his cheeks, falling in front of his eyes, azure, intense.

Levi hadn't been able to stop trembling since she'd first unbuttoned her shirt. He felt both strong and weak, through his shaking adrenaline he thrust powerfully into her, taking her for his own: an urge he realised in that moment that he'd had since he first encountered her face to face in the trees of ODM run three, when he'd first borne witness to her blazing spirit. The desk screeched along the floorboards with the force of his movement, and a section of his gear clanked to the ground. He stopped at the sound, and Petra giggled, glancing over her shoulder;

"You can request a new one…aren't you humanity's strongest?"

He moaned at her words, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He would show her who was the strongest. He had the overwhelming urge to cover her with his whole body, to envelop her, to stop the filth of the world from touching her. He brought a hand back down to her clit and began lightly circling it with his fingers as he slowly started to rock his hips once more.

She fisted a hand into his hair, her grip almost painful;

"…l…levi…" She cried weakly as she reached her summit in a spasm of full colour, her body pressing tighter and tighter around him, as though it needed to take him, to keep him inside her forever.

Not a second later fireworks of ecstasy exploded throughout his entire body, as he came forcefully, emptying himself into her in excited, diminishing jets.

Instantly his lips were on hers again, hands wandering across each other's bodies, trying to hold on to the feeling for as long as they could before they cooled and dissipated, collapsing onto the desk.

Petra lay back, and Levi was bent forward, covering her with his torso. She noticed with a contented smile the cleaning gloves that he'd removed which were laid neatly on the desk by her head. Levi's nose fell into the spot at the base of her neck and he breathed her in as she sighed; exhausted and fulfilled.

For a while they lay, a heap of decelerating breaths between the flickering flames. It was only then, within the peaceful ease of the afterglow that Levi realised that that was his first time. He'd been touched and touched others minimally in his teens, but he'd never done that. And yet, it had hardly mattered at all. The experience had been almost entirely instinctual, driven by a series of insistent sparks that had over time become impossible to ignore.

It all began to make sense to him - why some people spent their lives chasing this. Hell, he actually began to curse his title, his commitments and duties that now came screaming back to him; a cutting, icy wind through his blissful, happy haze.

Why couldn't he just live here, within her? Her warm bosom pushing into his bare chest with every relaxed breath, her gentle hands drawing directionless patterns across his back, and mindlessly entwining in his hair.

But, it couldn't be. Not while the world was the way it was. He lifted himself up and away from her and looked down. She gazed back.

In her honey eyes, love.

He wondered if she could see it in his.

A small breath drew from him into the atmosphere.

"I need to clean."

Chapter 13: SOUP

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Petra was still in a half dream-like state when something punctured her daze; she could faintly smell the bucket of mild bleach once more, peeking through the odour of their sweat - but there was also…something else.

"Levi…?" She asked quietly; she was stood back in her bra, and was apprehensively pulling her trousers back on, scanning the room.

"…do you smell burning?"

The man was still topless, concentratedly sweeping rogue buttons into a dustpan with his just-fucked hair. His steel eyes snapped up. At the speed of light he dashed purposefully past her to the side of the desk, and to where her discarded, buttonless shirt had come into contact with a clumsy candle that had apparently toppled from the table and rolled along the floor at some point during their…union.

"Shit-"

Panicked, he stood in flickering thought, arms out, head flitting from side to side, and on finding nothing of use, began stamping on the garment but the unyielding flames instead grew around his boot.

Petra had a hand over her mouth, stupefied as she watched him, worried, but nonetheless struggling to fight away the small bit of her that found the whole ordeal hilarious.

Smoke began curling around his leg and she pulled her hand away from her mouth;

"Bucket!" She cried out, but he'd already picked up the still-blazing fabric by its only remaining unlit corner and flung it into the pail of muddied water behind him to the hiss of suddenly snuffed flames.

A second of tense silence followed, both pairs of eyes on the steaming bucket, then Petra collapsed into uncontrollable giggling, throwing both hands over her mouth. Levi sighed soundlessly as he turned back to face her, crossing his arms over his astonishing chest and cocking his head in a wryly questioning manner.

"Something funny?"

She cleared her throat loudly and straightened up,

"No, no sir."

Her lips pressed together to try and stifle her smile but she was failing tremendously.

He quirked a brow and spoke slowly, his low voice rumbling,

"Liar, liar, shirt's on fire."

Another laugh burst from her and she replied, "Not anymore, thanks to you."

"I'm sorry. Did you prefer it that way?" He looked and sounded completely serious, and the only reason she knew he wasn't was a small glint in his eye that most would have missed.

Still beaming she approached him, she began ghosting her fingertips down the sides of his arms. Her elated brain noted her sudden confidence in touching him that even an hour ago didn't exist at all. The realisation of the change sent her heart capering.

She nodded, jovial, "Didn't you know? My flaming shirt keeps me warm in winter. But then…" Her fiery eyes caught his, "Maybe now I have something else to keep me warm…"

Her spirit twinkled as her fingertips elicited goosebumps from his skin.

He observed her in that manner that she might have once called expressionless, but had since learned to read its undertones. There was nothing like falling for someone to make you hyper-aware of every tick, every microscopic change in their countenance, not to mention Levi'd literally been training them all in wordless communication for months now.

In those bluish depths, it looked like a door closed.

With a slow exhale, he brought a hand to hers and moved it away. She gave him an inquiring look, and he relaxed his already gentle grip, brushing the skin of her arm with his thumb. One gentle movement that lingered, the final evaporating wisps of their evening's romance.

"Don't waste any more time here. You won't get enough sleep before drills."

Her heart was sinking like a stone through a black lake.

"I can help you clean."

She said, her hand taking his in a last-ditch attempt to rekindle anything of the sweet closeness just gone.

"No. It's alright. Head back."

He released her hand, and without looking at her, walked past through the room to pick the smoking candle up off the floor.

Petra swallowed uncomfortably. It felt like a total rejection, but she had to trust him more than that. Despite the sudden callousness of his action, the softness had remained in his voice.

This was just how he dealt with things, she'd learned as much from watching him with fallen soldiers on the battlefield. He would allow himself to feel (if quietly, 'expressionlessly'), then return to duty the next moment. This was simply her Captain returning to duty, though she wished deep down in her core that she could watch him return to her instead. A rush of something rose up through her, and she was instantly filled with the certainty that he would. Perhaps not immediately, but he would return. Like any good scout, he didn't do things by halves.

Suddenly feeling unsuitably exposed, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat;

"Um, Captain?"

He turned to her as she now stood, arms across her chest.

"Do you - you wouldn't happen to have - a spare shirt?"

He blinked in surprised realisation, before coming around the front of the desk and picking up his grey long sleeve.

"Here. Put this on."

As she tentatively took the grey bundle of fabric from his outstretched arm, there was a loud rapping at the door.

"Petra still not back?" Gunther yawned, washing the final teacup.

"No. Haven't heard a thing." Eld frowned, blowing out the candles on the table.

"Strange." Gunther mumbled, placing the clean cup on the rack, "I hope she's alright. It's late."

Eld stood for a moment contemplatively. Gunther approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What's up?"

"Nah. Nothing." He replied.

"Sure?" Gunther probed, "What's bugging you?"

Eld's brow pinched, "Just…wondering if one of us should wait up is all."

"Ah." Gunther glanced to the doorway to the hall.

Eld sighed, "I really wish we hadn't let that moron go to bed early. Those boots are only half-clean."

"To be honest, I'm glad we did. He only would've complained."

"Yeah, loudly."

Gunther smiled, "I don't mind staying up for a bit. Or you can come wake me up in a couple hours if you want to wait here."

"Yeah. Maybe do that. I'll come get ya in a bit if she's still not back. Shift work style." He suspired, returning to the table and defeatedly picking up one of the candles he'd just blown out, and went to re-light it on the fading wall torch.

"Hey Eld." Gunther called from the doorway.

"What?"

"I remember the scores on the leaderboard." He quirked a brow. "No funny business. You fudge the numbers I'll just change them straight back."

Eld smirked, "You know I don't need to cheat to win."

Levi lifted a finger to his lips, and tilted his head to the space behind the door. Petra, wide-eyed, nodded and quietly skittered into the spot just as the brass doorknob turned and the door creaked open, jostling a little as the mystery person behind it clocked the lit candles of the most-definitely occupied room.

"Captain Levi. I - didn't-"

Clara stuttered somewhat before standing tall in the doorway, one hand coming to her chest in a half-hearted salute, the other resting on the door to hold it open.

Levi had to withhold a snort. Sod's law that Petra's ex-squad leader, who'd made no attempt to hide her ceaseless bitterness about the ginger's transferral to his squad almost a whole year ago, would barge in out of the goddamn blue for some godforsaken reason right at this exact moment. He supposed they were lucky she hadn't appeared five minutes earlier.

If Clara spotted Petra then…he didn't even want to think about it. It would completely ruin Petra's career, that was certain. Not to mention the respect she'd lose from-

"Didn't what?" He spat, "Didn't expect to find me in my own damn office?"

From the doorway, Clara raised her eyebrows. Her unwitting upper-hand made her position even more imposing as she towered over him. She scanned his lithe, athletic physique. His arms were crossed indignantly in front of his bare chest, and his face was contorted into an almost-snarl, like an angered rat.

Clara sniffed,

"Forgive me Captain, it's only-"

She stopped; a confused expression flitted across her face and her eyes dropped down, to the little gap under the door she was holding open.

—

Petra held her breath. This wasn't good.

She stood as still as a statue. She wasn't going to give Clara cause to venture further into the room.

What were the chances of this? Rather, why in three walls would Clara show up to the Captain's office in the middle of the night?

Her eyes bored into Levi, trying to tell him she was sorry that she'd gotten him into this position. But he remained focused on Clara, and his eyes didn't so much as flit to her.

Of course - why would he? That would immediately give her away. She was such a fool sometimes.

Her heart rattled. It turned out there was never a good time to tell your superior officer how you felt about them. There was certainly never a good or appropriate time to fall in love with them…or to fuck them in their office for that matter. She already knew that though.

Damn it!

Could they really not have just one evening of happiness in each other's arms?

She scrunched up her face and prayed to Sina.

—

"Yes?" Levi pressured, his voice razor-sharp.

Clara looked back up, shaking her head, as though she'd only momentarily lost her train of thought and not come unthinkably close to discovering her ex-subordinate behind a door, trembling in her white lace bra.

"I wasn't expecting you to be in at all sir, let alone…" She gestured vaguely to his rough-and-ready state, hair mussed, no shirt and the top button of his trousers undone.

He clenched his jaw, simmering, "Get to the point."

Clara stood up a little straighter,

"Commander Erwin sent me, sir. My squad has been having issues with the newly issued blade boxes - they've been complaining of defects in their construction. The Commander told me to go to the cabinet in your office to collect the evaluations completed by your squad during the initial testing process, as they will need to be reviewed along with my squad's gear to see if these complaints were picked up in that testing. Some of them are having issues removing the blad-"

"So Erwin sent you here in the middle of the damn night?" Levi needled, taking a forbidding step forward.

Clara stood fast,

"Yes sir. He told me you wouldn't appreciate being hassled for the documents, and that it would be best to come by while your squad was out at night training."

Levi exhaled something between a bitter laugh and a grunt,

"Sure. You've done a great job not hassling me. Strange that you didn't notice the big-ass storm tonight; hail, thunder…rain in the pitch dark…makes night-training a little tricky, wouldn't you say?"

He stepped forward again, grabbing the edge of the door with a hand and holding it fast, completely blocking Clara from the room. His fierce gaze caused her to recoil a touch - only a touch - but he noticed it.

"Rain also has a nasty habit of making your uniform wet." His eyes flickered down in reference to his state of undress, and returned to hers, pressing her.

"Quite, Captain."

They stared at one another.

—

Petra chewed her lip, eyes using all her energy to try and burn a hole through the door.

Why were they so quiet all of a sudden?

She scrunched the grey fabric nervously in her hands and brought it to her face to muffle her breathing. The secondary benefit of Levi's scent wasn't overlooked by her either.

Her chest jolted. Drat; she needed to sneeze. She wrinkled her nose as her ribcage and abdomen began to constrict in short sharp bursts in response to her attempts to thwart the tickles travelling up through her nose.

Not now, holy Maria, not now not now not now-

—

They had been stood for some seconds still staring in an uncompromising stalemate, when Clara finally broke.

"Well Captain. I'll leave you to…get dressed. Perhaps I'll send Stefan over tomorrow to collect the documents required, if that is suitable to you."

Levi blinked. His scowl deepened.

"Right." Clara punctuated, "Good evening sir."

She made to leave, but stopped only a step away, mumbling over her shoulder,

"That smell. What is that? It's like…"

Levi's cold glare was unflinching, but the air travelled through him uneasily.

Like what?

Sweat?

Sex?

A Captain copulating with his best soldier?

Fuck.

"…like…a bonfire in a soap factory." She finished with a titter, walking off down the hallway.

"Tch."

Levi's slam of the door just about covered Petra's loud (and adorable) sneeze. She looked at him sheepishly. His head fell into his hand and he stood quietly lamenting for a minute or so. From his periphery, he glimpsed her pulling his grey long sleeve over her head, but she didn't approach him, only stood timidly by the door.

"That can't happen again." He said lowly.

"…sir? What do you mean?"

He inhaled deeply and lifted his head from his hand to look at her, struggling to disregard the blip of satisfaction he felt on seeing her dishevelled and wearing his shirt.

"…Captain. What can't happen again?"

He looked away, pained.

The book spines were an array of dark greens stacked along the shelf, candlelight licking across them in yellow. He couldn't tear his gaze from their covers, and yet he could sense the tears welling up in her eyes a metre away. A moment later, she appeared before him and took his cheeks in her hands, planting a soft kiss on his lips. He stood unmoving and dumbstruck, and the next thing he heard the door close softly, and when he finally grew the balls the glance to it, the room was empty, save his own miserable presence.

The icy air slapped Petra in the face and it felt like her tears froze in place on her cheeks.

Even still she knew to wait for him. She wasn't angry with him this time. When one explores uncharted territory, it isn't possible to predict the bumps in the road.

She knew that his reluctance to embrace any good thing for himself meant that the slightest challenge they faced regarding said good thing would send him tumbling; for he would always be searching for an excuse not to accept love, no matter how willingly given to him.

The thing was, he no longer had a choice about whether or not her love would be bestowed on him. He could throw any kind of tantrum he wanted about it, he could reject her over and over and over and still she would be there, waiting patiently for him to come around and realise that he was worth it. She understood him, and though she'd had no experience of the horrors of his life or the amount of pressure the world put on him, she'd seen that her presence helped him with his burdens, and there was little more to it than that.

She'd wait for him to return to her.

As she made her way into the barracks she was startled to see a dim light in the common room and welled up for a second time when she saw the figure of Eld lit by a single dwindling candle, asleep on his arms at the table, snoring, clearly waiting for her. Wiping the tears away she approached him, and beamed at the letter he'd begun to write;

My Darling Harriet,

Despite her burgeoning curiosity, she decided not to read on. Matters of the heart needed their space, and if he asked her where she'd been when she woke him up, she would fight against her very sinew and lie. He deserved the same level of privacy.

"Hey…Eld…" She whispered, giving him a prod.

"Mmha?" He mumbled, a single eye opening.

"I think you might be more comfortable in a bed." She giggled quietly as he rubbed his eyes and stretched.

"...huh?" He voiced, bleary-eyed and stood up, scratching his head as he noticed his half-finished letter, "What day is it?"

"I think now…Tuesday." She smiled from the doorway, "If we hurry we might get three hours sleep before drills tomorrow."

"Man. That's rough." He mumbled, folding up the letter and pocketing it.

"Night Eld." She uttered.

"Night. Wait." He stroked his chin, puzzled and Petra waited patiently for the obvious question: "What happened?" or "Where have you been?" perhaps.

"…have you always had that grey shirt?"

Oh…that wasn't the question she'd been expecting at all…

"Yes." She nodded, trying to commit to the lie as believably as she could, "It's standard issue but it was slightly too big so I sometimes wear it to bed…"

He blinked once. "Oh, right. Night."

The week was an utter shambles. Naturally every single one of them (Except Captain Levi somehow) caught a terrible cold from training during a hailstorm, and the lack of sleep hadn't helped matters.

On Tuesday morning they lined up, pale-faced, dark circles beneath their eyes, and Eld amused himself wondering if perhaps the Captain felt like he was gazing into four full-length mirrors stationed side by side. He'd been the only person to look normal that day.

A series of atrocious exercises and swearing followed; highlights including Oruo's dizziness which meant he kept going in the opposite direction to wherever he was instructed, Eld's exhausted mis-fired hook that a confused Gunther tried to grab mid-air (and luckily missed) having ostensibly forgotten what the hell they were all doing, and Petra's forceful sneeze which propelled her several metres backwards through the air until she hit a tree.

The strange thing about all of it though, was that even as their skills somehow worsened with each passing day, the Captain was uncommonly lenient.

Eld had never thought that compassion was beyond the man, quite the opposite: certainly he was understanding that sickness would impair their ability somewhat, but it was nonetheless odd that not one of them had been chastised at all, let alone given any penalties for their piss-poor performances. He'd even ordered them all to get to bed on time every night, not to partake in any extra curricular activities (Eld assumed this was largely referring to the tavern and band practice) and one morning had left them a pot of 'remedial tea' on the kitchen table with a note ordering them to finish it before turning up to drills. Furthermore, Eld hadn't heard him disparage their disgusting dribbling red noses or hacking coughs even once, although he had consciously kept his distance from them, jaw clenched whenever someone wheezed - lenient or not, he was still an extreme germaphobe.

Stranger then, when he silently appeared on Friday evening as the four of them were wearily making soup for dinner, having entirely avoided the common spaces up until that point.

"Knight to p3." Oruo picked up a random chess piece and squinted at it.

"There is no p3 you idiot." Gunther grumped, his voice particularly nasal, then loudly blew his nose into his handkerchief, "And that's a pawn."

"Well that's obviously what I meant. Pawn to - uh…"

"d3?" Eld shouted over his shoulder where he was stirring the pot in the kitchenette, "I think you're looking at it upside down."

"And back to front apparently - b3 surely?" Gunther grumbled, "Have you never played chess before?"

"A gentleman never tells." Oruo sniffled and placed the pawn down on a random square in the middle of the board, crossing his arms smugly, "Heh."

—

Petra was smiling widely at the shambolic game happening on the dining table, when she felt a presence behind her at the counter. Her heart stopped as she was suddenly boxed in either side by two strong arms and she felt a warm puff of air by her left ear;

"Here."

Levi's left hand appeared over hers which clasped a knife she was using to chop parsley for the soup's garnish.

His voice was quiet, just above a whisper, heated on her neck, and she was breathless,

"Gather the leaves together first in this hand," His right hand did so, "Then place it on top of the blade to help control the movements. Use the point as a pivot while you cut."

Then, hands over hers, he demonstrated, slicing the leaves so that they were minced finely into tiny ribbons as his body pressed into her back and caged her in against the counter. Her breath quaked. His thumb lightly brushed the skin of her hand. They were in the middle of the common room, and yet, none of the squad had clocked their position at all: Gunther and Oruo were barking chess rules at one another between fits of coughing, and when she glanced over her shoulder she saw Eld with his back turned, humming tunelessly, stirring and seasoning the pot.

The herbs now perfectly cut, his body withdrew and a coldness took its place around her as she watched him pace to the table, casually pull out his chair and sit at the head. He gave her a pointed look, something like smug challenge as she continued staring at him in disbelief.

She suddenly remembered one of the first things she'd learned about him: he was only seen when he wanted to be. It was like he was proving something to her, no matter who came close to discovering what was between them: Clara, the squad, anyone, he would be able to get away with it with them none the wiser.

"Hey booster-seat you finished chopping? I'm about done over here." Eld queried, and with a disbelieving blink at her Captain she turned with the chopping board and wordlessly handed it to Eld.

This ridiculous man. She knew he'd return to her. And after three and a bit days of only completely necessary interaction no less (It was probably for the best, she felt like death warmed up, and she was sure that she looked even worse). She'd surprised herself a little at how well she'd dealt with it all - she hadn't felt even slightly awkward around him in drills, in fact, gross illness aside, the return to routine felt natural, as though nothing had changed between them, and she supposed she'd been in love with the man for such a long time, that nothing really had.

But, after all these days of ignoring it, this was how he chose to broach the subject?

Well…if he wanted to play, then she'd play.

"Phew, is it hot in here?" She uttered, fanning herself with one hand and undoing the top two buttons of her shirt with the other, trying not to smirk when she noticed him avert his eyes and the flat line of his mouth tighten a tiny amount.

Gunther was grumbling under his breath as he packed away the chess board and Oruo sat idly, fiddling with his cravat.

"At least help set the table." Gunther looked at him, and Oruo huffed, getting up from his seat and heading to the cupboard.

Petra had gathered cutlery and strutted past Oruo on his way to the kitchenette to set them on the dining table. She made a marked show of leaning right over and slightly pressing an arm to her chest to enhance her cleavage. One table setting, two table setting, then she was behind Levi, leaning around him as he'd done to her moments ago, slowly, concisely placing a knife a fork either side of him.

His low voice rumbled,

"What am I meant to do with these? I thought we were having soup."

She scrunched up her face. Damn it!

"R-right." She fumbled picking the cutlery back up and flitted back around the table to collect the rest.

Oruo guffawed on his way over, "If you want to make a good wife one day Petra, you'd do well to learn the difference between the types of cutlery. I've always said, a good woman is-ARGH!"

He cried out as she kicked him hard in the leg and held a fork to his neck.

"Finish that sentence, I dare you."

Oruo gulped, his beady hazel eyes on her and after a short moment, shook his head. She brought the fork away and after placing his pile of plates on the table, he massaged his neck.

"Geez. Whats the big deal? It was just some friendly advice."

"On that subject," The Captain uttered, gesturing to the pile of plates, "I've never eaten soup from a plate. Perhaps bowls are more suitable?"

Oruo paled, staring at him in shock, "Uhh…." As the rest of the squad's noisy guffaws bounced around the four walls.

"Just some friendly advice." The Captain leant his chin in his hand, a sparkle of good humour travelling through his eyes.

Oruo pouted, petulantly picking up the plates and returning to the kitchenette.

Minutes later they were sat around the table, Eld ladling out the steaming broth into their bowls to intermittent sniffling. Oruo tucked a napkin into his collar over the top of his cravat and picked up his spoon to begin, but Eld clouted him around the head,

"Hey moron." He began, "Gotta say grace first."

"Huh?" Oruo scowled, "Since when did we-"

"Thank you Maria for this gift of soup." Eld declared loudly, a hand over his heart, and his eyes shut like a preacher.

Silence.

Eld opened one eye,

"You're supposed to repeat it back." He stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, then resumed his position, clearing his throat obnoxiously, "Thank you Maria for this gift of soup."

The rest of the squad eyed one another skeptically, then Gunther, Petra and Oruo repeated the line uncertainly as a chorus,

"Thank you Maria for this gift of soup."

Eld continued, "That has been lovingly imparted by one talented chef."

"That has been lovingly imparted by one…"

There was some giggling, and uttering of words that absolutely weren't 'talented' or 'chef'. Eld chose to ignore them, and continued confidently;

"May it nourish us,"

"May it nourish us."

"Both body and soul,"

"Both body and soul."

"And Oruo's mind,"

"And Oruo's-"

"Hey! Screw you!"

Petra and Gunther laughed and Eld opened his eyes again, this time commanding like a schoolteacher;

"Eyes closed!"

—

Levi observed in amusement as the squad immediately obeyed Eld, smashing a hand to their hearts and screwing their eyes shut.

"Let the delicious potatoes and tasty stock heal our aching muscles,"

As they repeated it back, he watched Petra, who tentatively opened her eyes and caught him staring. She gazed back at him with a wide smile. His heart fluttered, but he wouldn't dare look away as she laughed, lit in the gold of the cozy room as she repeated Eld's dumbass prayer, holding his eyes continuously;

"And allow it's herby goodness to clear our stuffed up noses,"

Levi gestured to Eld, then gently shook his head in light-hearted disapproval, drawing another one of Petra's musical giggles, exactly as he'd hoped. He felt so light, so comfortable, so free all of a sudden.

"So we may live to slay titans another day, as the greatest damn squad the survey corps has ever known."

Levi issued a quiet single laugh, and the table quietened, each member of the squad opening their eyes widely to search his expression. A beat passed and they all cheered, uproariously clanking their tankards of water.

"SOUP!" Eld shouted, finally sitting down and hurriedly digging in.

"SOUP!" The other three chorused in response, and Levi found himself smiling.

"You wanted to see me, sir? Out here?" Petra asked quietly.

The stars twinkled above the stables and he surveyed the roofs of them from the muddy ground.

"Mm." He hummed, "Nowhere to talk in the barracks. This way."

Swiftly, he deployed his gear, propelling himself onto the roof and stood in wait, gazing down at her expectantly. Not a moment later, she followed, wires whizzed and she was stood next to him on the stable rooftop. He turned and walked to the far edge and sat, legs dangling, facing out at a large field with the ODM run forest in the distance. She sat by his side studying the moonlit view.

For a while they sat quietly, simply enjoying one another's company, listening to the gentle stirring of the breeze through the nearby trees, and the sleepy puffing and whinnying of the horses shuffling beneath them.

"A-choo!" Petra sneezed loudly, whipping a handkerchief from her pocket and blowing her nose. "Sorry." She mumbled, "Looks like that soup hasn't healed me as thoroughly as we'd all hoped."

"That your handkerchief?" He asked wryly, and noticed her try to stifle a smile.

"How did you know it wasn't?" She returned, a single eyebrow raised.

He simply looked at her. The truth was it was a funny quirk he'd noticed about her early on, that she never seemed to carry her own.

She blew her nose once more, "It's Oruo's. He said he was sick of hearing me sneeze, but really I think he gave it to me to apologise for that comment at dinner. It doesn't always seem it, but deep down, and I mean deep down, he's very good natured."

"Huh."

"Aren't you worried about getting sick, being out here with me?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you've made me sick."

She bit her lip, scrunching up the handkerchief in her hands.

He took a deep breath, "You said this made you happy." The he fired her a look, and she returned it.

"Levi?"

He brought his eyes up to the moon, his profile luminous in the blue-white light.

"I need to know you've thought it through. One slip up, a single wrong move and there's a risk the general rank and file will find out."

He heard her take a slow breath,

"Wasn't that what you were showing me at dinner, with that chopping lesson? That they won't?"

He sighed, "Even I make mistakes Pet, despite what the scribblers might have you believe. Sometimes situations are out of my control, like your ex-squad leader showing up the other night. I need to know you've considered every consequence of this. You shouldn't bank on always being so lucky."

From the corner of his eye he could see her mulling over his words, fiddling with the handkerchief in her lap.

"And what happens if they do find out, do you think?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again. After a moment he spoke,

"I can't see every outcome, but…you need to be prepared that it won't be pretty. There's always the chance it'll get swept up in the rumour-mill. People love to talk shit about things they haven't got a goddamn clue about."

She swallowed,

"You're worrying about my reputation."

He glanced back at her, taking in her beautifully lit profile, her still shuffling hands, but a faint smile had eased across her lips.

"I am." He replied.

"Please don't." She met his eyes, "I told you, I've thought about my priorities, and I pick you. And to be honest sir, what they say or don't say really doesn't matter to me. It would just be empty, meaningless chatter. There are so many more important things. Just look at Mike and Nanaba - she's been in his squad since before even I joined the scouts, and I haven't heard a bad word said about her by a single soldier. I'd hope that if folk did talk about this, that they'd treat me with the same respect, in fact, I'm certain that the vast majority would."

Levi blinked, stunned. He didn't even know that she had any idea about Mike and Nanaba's relationship. It was common knowledge among the officers certainly, but if Petra knew, then that meant it might've been common knowledge among the soldiers in general. But…

"Still. You shouldn't assume that they will."

Even outside in the blue of the night, her eyes were still so warm.

"Ok. Let's say they do say horrible, derogatory things…question my ability as a scout…would that make those things true?"

He frowned, "No, but,"

"But nothing Levi." She beamed, moving a hand across and squeezing his, "I'm not going to back down on this. I'm sorry but, sir, you're stuck with me until a titan gets me, or Oruo poisons us all with one of his terrible homemade liqueurs."

The corner of his mouth quirked up.

She squeezed his hand again, "I'm certain of my choice. I will never regret it until my dying day."

With the moonlight glittering in her eyes and that unbelievable ardent determination she possessed, he knew she was telling the truth. A gilded wave surged through him and he leant forward and kissed her plainly, savouring the soft feel of her, then pulled away.

"Thank you." He muttered.

With a pleased nod, she released his hand and returned to staring at the sky, pointing out a constellation her father had taught her. They spent some time quietly discussing the shapes and the various myths associated with them, when without warning, Levi sneezed and heard her collapse into unbridled giggling and the occasional utterance of 'I'm sorry!'.

—

Oruo squinted in to the distance towards the stables.

He'd just finished washing up the bowls and spoons from dinner, and given into his curiosity, having overheard the Captain request Petra's assistance with a task at the stables. Hard to see from being so far off, but it certainly looked like the pair of them, sat not a metre apart on the roof, pointing at the stars.

Oruo was no fool. No way was this just some simple astronomy lesson. Petra didn't know shit about stars, and the Captain grew up underground for Maria's sake.

But could it really be…what he'd suspected?

A bond had clearly formed between them, even without this little stargazing show, that was obvious to him. He looked dejectedly down at his cravat.

Not that he could blame the Captain for being interested, or even for treating her differently. Oruo'd always known Petra was something a little bit special, from the moment he met her. And the Captain was a truly great man, strong, with a good heart.

He sighed gruffly, and returned to the barracks.

Notes:

Boo! phew guess who finished editing this at 11:59 PM geez

Thanks to Mikasasgirl67 for the prompt with Clara on this one! It wasn't quite what you suggested but it was close as I could for now hehe

Chapter 14: 'Wonderwalls' (mini chapter)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"You've got to be kidding me."

Armin had his regular look of mild distress as he pointed to the corner of the cadets mess hall.

"What? …what're you pointing at?" Eren squinted through the bodies, moving his head back and forth to try and catch a glimpse.

"On the platform, in the corner." Armin squeaked.

Mikasa turned over her shoulder and looked to where Armin was pointing.

"Oh." Her voice was quiet and toneless. She gently shook her head, and turned back to her soup.

Eren dropped his spoon and stood up onto the bench, peeking over the heads of the small crowd to the little platform in the corner of the room to where Jean was grinning smarmily, his right hand waving dismissively at the tiny gathering of people around the platform and in his left he held an acoustic guitar;

"One moment please." He ducked under the guitar strap and stood proudly clutching it with his chest puffed, "You'll all be thrilled to know that the wait is finally over. This fine night I will be playing you some of my personal songs - I know how you've all been dying to hear them."

"Woo!" Marco called loudly from where he was stood directly in front of him.

"Ladies, keep your pants on - at least until after the show." Jean winked.

From behind Eren Connie excitedly leapt over the long mess hall table as he sped towards the scene, "Aren't you guys coming? This is classic!"

He was instantly followed by Sasha, who made a loud, enthusiastic noise that was probably an affirmation of Connie's statement, but it was completely muffled by the mini baguette she'd stuffed in her mouth. Before she pelted to the corner in pursuit of Connie, she'd managed a spectacular leap over the table holding her soup bowl, whereby the entirety of the liquid flew from the bowl in a round soupy mass, which she then impossibly caught in the bowl again when she landed, not spilling a single drop.

Eren groaned and scowled as he jumped down off the bench and grudgingly made his way over.

Following Eren with his eyes, Armin audibly sighed and stood, glancing at Mikasa who wordlessly followed on like a shadow, standing sombrely at the back of the crowd of cadets as Eren grumbled curses under his breath.

"First off is a little number I'd like to dedicate to-" Jean clocked Mikasa stood at the back and immediately flushed bright red, "-ah - uh - all the beautiful girls in the room, you know who you are!" He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Get on with it!" Eren shouted from the back.

Jean immediately switched, growling;

"Oh you think this is easy tough-guy? I'd like to see you sing in front of a crowd like this - I bet you don't even know what a note is."

"Asshole - tell that to my fists!" Eren bayed, rolling up his sleeves, but was stopped by Mikasa's hand on his shoulder.

"Eren, don't." She said faintly as his face twitched in a rage and his arms shook with pent up tension.

Armin looked worried.

"That's right!" Jean smirked infuriatingly, "No-one wants to hear your childish yelling today Jaeger. We're gathered to hear some breathtaking music."

Eren snarled.

"What's the name of the first song?" Marco politely interjected.

"I'm glad you asked Marco." Jean blustered, "This one has a special place in my heart, and will soon have one in all of yours too. It's called 'Wonderwalls'."

A ripple of snickering ran through the crowd but Jean soldiered on, playing the first simple chords with confidence. His voice was a little rough, but he was able to hit all the notes, perhaps with more practice he'd've been quite the vocalist, and his guitar skills weren't to be snubbed either;

"Today is when I realised it,

A love so strong I just can't hide it,

Why walk a winding road when you can ride it?"

"Giddy-up Jean!" Reiner heckled and Jean winced, but quickly brushed it off;

"Mind, body and soul,

With three walls you protect them all,

Oh you are sensational,

Wanna live in your wonderwalls…

The steady drum of my heart, can't fight it,

You've heard it all before, but you're the finest,

And why stay single when you can bride it?

You're in total control,

Strong like bricks and hair like coal,

Could spend my life and never get cold,

Inside the heat of your wonderwalls…"

"Hey Jean!" Erenyelled across the room, interrupting, "You suck! Ever heard of a key? You should try playing in one."

"Speaking of keys - they should find one to lock you away with you absolute psycho!" Jean unhooked his guitar and went to throw it on the ground, but Marco intercepted it as Jean leapt from the platform and shoved through the crowd who had already parted into a circle surrounding the two.

"Not this again…" Bertholdt bemoaned.

Not a second later, the fight broke out to jeering, groaning and fist-pumps. Jean dodged a punch from Eren then socked him in the face.

"That all you got?!" Eren roared, crazed as he returned the favour.

Taking the punch, Jean smirked again, panting;

"I would hit you harder, but my guitar teacher Ms Petra would be furious if I busted up my hands while taking out the trash-" He punctuated the last word with a swing, but he missed and suddenly Mikasa stood in between them.

"Stop this." She commanded, though quietly and the two hunched over boys huffed, still staring daggers at one another, "Eren, come on."

She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him off, trailed by Armin.

"You guys didn't think he was any good did you?" Eren pouted as they retook their seats.

"No, but that doesn't mean you should fight him at every given opportunity." Mikasa chided.

"I'm with Eren on this one. He sucked." Armin smiled, picking up the remains of his loaf of bread.

Eren's face melted into a wide beam, and some blood trickled from his nose, "Really? You think so?"

Armin blinked, "Absolutely. I mean, he rhymed 'it' with 'it' three times in one verse…"

"Yeah…he did." Eren grinned, "What are 'wonderwalls' anyway?"

Notes:

I did say that the next mini-chapter would maybe make the mini-chapters link a bit clearer (though some have already guessed it haha) and yes…the link is horses…and this chapter is about Jean…I'm not sorry.

If you don't know what song this chapter is referencing then…i really don't know what to say to you hahahaha but I can say that the amount of fun it is to write a terrible bro lovesong is unsurpassable

Chapter 15: A Close Shave

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

October

After a moment composing himself, Eld took a deep breath, and turned the door handle to the office, walking in confidently.

"You requested my presence Commander?"

"Ah Eld, yes - thank you for coming in last minute. Please, take a seat."

Eld did as the man asked, while the Commander checked off some remaining paperwork from his frankly disturbingly large pile. Though he wasn't speaking loudly, his voice still held a booming, authoritative quality;

"It's rare nowadays that I have a spare moment for these reviews, so when my meeting with Mr Brauer fell through this morning I seized the opportunity to call you in here."

It was only then that Eld noticed Captain Levi stood leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed. The Captain simply glanced at him impassively, then back to the Commander. Although he maintained his trademark aura of judgement and slight threat, those qualities were lessened by his nose, which was still red from having picked up the squad's cold not a week before. Eld fought away a smile.

"Mr Brauer, sir? The town Tailor?"

"Yes." The Commander replied, returning his pen to its ink pot, "But that isn't the reason I called you in here this morning."

"Of course, sir." Eld replied, and suddenly felt anticipatory worry crawling across his skin around his neck and upper chest.

"Following your recent field work, and taking into consideration the report from your latest performance review with the Captain here, it seems to me that you are well overdue a raise." He smiled his charming smile;

"Eld Jinn, I would like to formally offer you the position of Squad Leader."

Eld's heart stopped in his chest.

"Naturally this means moving on from your current role in Special Operations. A new squad would be drafted with you at the helm, and you would be required to attend the strategy meetings with the other officers. I'm sure I don't need to mention that this position comes with a pay rise."

Eld didn't know what to say at all. When he'd first joined the survey corps, his goal had always been to work his way up through the ranks and do as much as he possibly could to help in the war against the titans; but ever since the squad had settled into their work with the Captain, he'd always assumed that he was doing that. Surely there was no higher honour than the Special Operations Squad, though there were plenty of officers that outranked and out-earned him. But then, he couldn't overlook such an amazing opportunity. He would be well placed to run a squad of rookies, keep them alive and fighting for humanity's freedom. As one of the most experienced scouts out there, he could surely do a lot of good instructing a new squad, exercising his jurisdiction. Not to mention a pay-rise would be even more welcome now that he was married, and been discussing trying for children with Harriet.

The Commander's voice cut through his pondering;

"I gather from your silence that you haven't been expecting this offer."

Eld frowned, pulling a hand round his face,

"No sir." He replied, "Not as such."

He turned his head towards Captain Levi, who remained stoic, as unchanging as a picture on the wall. Unhelpful.

"Commander, if you don't mind me asking - what would that mean for Special Operations?"

"Well, Captain Levi would have the choice about whether he wants to hire a new second externally, or promote from within his squad. Either way they are likely to need to hire an additional soldier in your absence. For the most part though, I gather that Special Operations would remain as it is. Please don't worry yourself about such matters, that will be a job for myself and the Captain here to figure out, should you accept this new post."

"…right. Of course sir." Eld frowned, overwhelmed by the barrage of new information.

The Commander inhaled deeply through his nose,

"Why don't you take until the end of the month to consider. I appreciate that this is a big decision for you, but, if I may, I truly believe you would make a splendid squad leader."

"Thank you sir." Eld responded, standing from his seat, head whirling, "I'll be sure to make a decision by then."

"I'm glad to hear it. Dismissed."

Eld nodded once, and took his leave.

—

Erwin watched as Levi pushed himself off the wall and made to follow Eld.

"Levi, one moment."

"What." The dark haired man returned with a disgruntled look over his shoulder.

"Next week we have a large consignment of wood arriving for the workshop for the scout's first ever ceremonial titan effigy. I would be grateful if you personally could assist Ness and Hange's squad in overseeing the delivery."

"Sure." Levi sniffed, holding Erwin's gaze, "That it?"

"Catch a cold?"

"…huh?"

Erwin smiled slightly in response to Levi's scowl. In all their years of friendship, he'd never once known Levi to get sick. The man stayed feet away from anyone who sneezed or coughed, and donned gloves and a face mask when he needed to touch anything 'tainted' by an invalid. Infamously a clean-freak, it extended far beyond concern for his environment to his own body. Thus, the only explanation was that the grumpy old Captain had gotten closer than was characterful to someone who had caught a cold; and Erwin had a feeling he knew exactly who that someone was.

"Brew some echinacea root into tea, that should bring down your symptoms." Erwin offered, "Moblit keeps some in the lab office-"

"You think I don't know the types of tea Erwin?" Levi growled.

Erwin simply chuckled lightly,

"How foolish of me. Though if this cold has affected your whole squad as Mike informed me it has, then perhaps you could consider adding echinacea to your ration requests as we head towards winter. I'd be more than happy to approve it - it's of the utmost importance that our Special Operations Squad, and indeed Humanity's Strongest, remain healthy."

"I don't plan on making a habit out of catching a cold."

"By all means; but better to be safe than sorry, no?"

"If you believe that, then you better stop talking."

Levi glared and Erwin raised a single eyebrow.

"Are we done here?" The Captain grumbled, pulling a handkerchief from his top pocket, and with a look of disgust meant entirely for himself, wiped his nose.

"Ginger." Erwin's eyes gleamed.

Levi stalled, bringing the handkerchief slowly away from his face.

"I'd be happy to approve that too. I've heard that ginger also has healing qualities. Perhaps you could take some tea with ginger, if echinacea root isn't to your liking, Captain."

Levi simply stared at Erwin, who had interlaced his fingers together, and rested his elbows on the desk: all easiness, but with a barb of deadly cunning lying in plain sight if one looked properly. It was Erwin's way.

"You may find it makes you feel better." He added.

"I'll bear that in mind." Levi replied wryly, and Erwin was certain that the tick in the man's lips was a smile lying in wait.

"Mm." Erwin blinked, "That's all Levi."

A squad leader? Eld wasn't sure what to make of the new information. He was in no doubt of his own skill - it made sense that he would be put forward for it - and he supposed it had been long enough since he'd been offered a raise, but still…it had come out of the blue. He was settled in his current position; he'd never taken so much as a second to consider moving on from it. Now given the option, he was stumped. He sighed; irked that he'd misplaced his notebook, he wanted to write some of his thoughts down in it, get some clarity through committing them to paper. Nuts. He'd have to do with his spinning mind.

He smiled politely at Section Commander Hange and Moblit as they passed him on his return to the barracks, overhearing part of the (unsurprisingly strange) conversation they were having:

"What it is is - we hang the donkey from the ceiling, then hit it with clubs until the confetti falls out-"

"Uh…I'm not so sure about that Section Commander…it sounds like animal cruelty to me…"

…

Eld shook his head, a little bewildered as he continued down the autumn path towards the barracks, mentally preparing for several hours of intensive cleaning duty.

"Eld!" Petra beamed as he wandered into the hall. Decked out in their bandanas and aprons Gunther and Oruo ducked their heads through two separate doorways and greeted him in their conventional ways; Gunther with a small smile and head nod, Oruo with a pained grimace.

The smell of citrus and bleach filled his nostrils.

"What was your meeting about?" The ginger chirped, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ah er - nothing really." Eld scratched his head, "The Commander wanted me to clarify something I'd written on a report from last expedition, that's all."

"Oh right." She smiled, dunking her cleaning rag back into a soapy bucket of water, ready to continue her regular task of washing then waxing the floor.

Much as Eld valued the squad's opinions, he didn't want their feelings about his offer to cloud his judgement. He needed to figure out what was best for him first, without their input.

"I'm not surprised the Commander couldn't read those chicken scratches you call handwriting. I am surprised it's taken so long for you to get called out on it. Tch." Oruo grumbled, disappearing back into the bathroom. After a moment, his humming started up.

"A letter came for you by the way." Gunther muttered, gesturing for Eld to follow him into the kitchenette.

A letter? From Harriet, or maybe his mother? Though, they'd both written fairly recently. It wasn't likely that either of them'd write again so soon unless they had some urgent news…

His chest was tight as Gunther handed him the letter and he squinted at the writing. The address for the barracks and "Mr Eld Git of the Scouting Regiment" was scrawled on the front in a particularly haphazard and thankfully unfamiliar manner (plus Harriet and his mother could definitely spell his surname, they both had the same one…'Git'? Really?). On the back, the seal was a deep blue that he recognised as standard for the agricultural industry. He felt his whole body ease up, relieved, though intrigued.

"What's it about?" Petra asked brightly, having followed them in.

Eld's mouth twisted in concentration, "Hang on a second small fry…" he muttered, and eased open the wax seal, pulling out the paper and unfolding the scruffy letter as Petra stood on her tip-toes to read over his shoulder;

Dear Mr Eld Git of the Scouting Regiment,

Please accept my sincerest apologies for writing to you out of the blue with a request, but I simply couldn't think of anyone else I could contact with this matter.

You visited my farm earlier in the year along with some companions, and quite spectacularly retrieved my prize donkey which had escaped. I'm sure you'll remember the day, as it was unusually dramatic…

I wish that I was writing with better news, but unfortunately I will need you and your lasso once more, for you see, that very same donkey, my dearest Herbert Romeo III, has been kidnapped. As I'm sure you can imagine all of us here at the farm are devastated - the mule was gifted to me in late summer two years ago by my darling wife Mrs Grüntzels, who has since passed on, and serves as a living memory of her legacy.

We have been given until the month's end to come up with one-thousand gold coins to retrieve him. This is an unfathomable sum of money, even for a fairly successful business, we are struggling to make ends meet. Therefore I am imploring you to assist us in catching the culprit of this heinous crime, as a young and able-bodied man, with his head screwed on, and a natural inclination for retrieving wayward donkeys.

I look forward to receiving your response in this matter,

Yours sincerely,

Mr Hutch Grüntzels

Local Farm Owner

"What the…" Eld uttered, perplexed, "This is…"

Petra was blinking quizzically, "Well. That sure is something."

Apparently the letter held just enough intrigue for Gunther to momentarily forgo his wall-washing task, and he pulled down the rag tied around his nose and mouth, "What's it say?"

"That I have to help a farmer get back his stolen donkey."

Gunther frowned, "I hardly think the Captain will let you have time off to do that."

"You're missing the point." Eld spoke insistently, pacing around the common room and waving the piece of paper around, "This letter is insane. Who in their right mind writes something like this?"

"A devastated farmer?" Petra replied, as though the situation was completely normal and actually fairly easily explained.

"What's going on in here - I can't hear myself singing over your interminable prattling." Oruo barked from the doorway, arms folded in his best impression of the Captain.

"Eld's been sent a letter from the local farm asking him to help find a stolen donkey." Petra offered.

Oruo's face melted into a mask of shock, "What?"

"But…" Eld began, "Why me? Why not ask the Military Police to sort it out? How the hell could I help with this? I'm baffled." He stopped, looking up from the letter with a worried expression, and spoke quietly, "I'm baff-Eld."

Petra placed a bewildered, comforting hand on his arm while Oruo stomped towards them;

"Let me see that." He uttered, snatching the paper from Eld's hand.

Gunther came around the kitchenette counter and leant back on it, arms crossed. His dark eyes pierced Eld's;

"You gonna do it you think?"

"Like I'd have time to." Eld answered, "Even if I did, I'm not sure I'd be a great help with something like this. Kidnappers asking for one-thousand gold coins…for a donkey? I mean…something just doesn't add up."

"The donkey must be worth it." Gunther said assuredly, "No kidnapper worth their salt would steal something that they didn't think they'd get a return on. They'd've done their research - that farmer is probably willing to pay a high sum for it."

"Well, yeah except, instead of paying it or trying to raise funds, he sent me this insane letter."

"Hm." Gunther paused thoughtfully, "Likely he's just exhausting other options first."

Petra smiled cheekily catching Eld's eye, "It's a shame its not a baby goat, or it'd be a literal kid-napping - right Eld?"

Gunther and Petra started laughing at her terrible joke while Eld looked on, befuddled. Gunther, laughing at a bad pun? Maybe the bleach had gotten into the guy's brain. Everything was disorientating: today was throwing so many curveballs at him he wasn't sure what to think anymore.

"Petra, this is no time for jokes." Oruo said seriously, handing Eld back his letter, "A man's ass is on the line!"

More guffawing chorused though Petra and Gunther, but Eld found that he was too bamboozled by the day's events to laugh at even Oruo's unintentional buffoonery.

As Oruo realised what he'd said, his serious expression morphed into pompous complacency, and he folded his arms smugly;

"Heh. The ladies do tell me that my wit is one of my finest qualities, second only to my handsomeness, enviable strength and excellent intellect."

"Second to three other things? How does that work then Mr 'excellent intellect'?" Petra wryly teased.

"Eld. What're you gonna do?" Gunther interrupted.

The three pairs of eyes of his squad mates were trained on him and Eld scratched his nose thoughtfully. The question was strangely poignant, and he took a moment to consider his unusual day, his job offer, before responding;

"Beats me. I guess I'll write back and suggest he chats to the Military Police about it. That's their job after all, not mine." He took a deep breath, "Anyhow, that's enough idle standing around discussing a man's ass." He smirked, "I don't know about you guys but I'd rather not be cleaning after curfew. Move it."

The office had fallen back into its comfortable quiet, the only sound the light scratching pens of its inhabitants. There was one difference however: the electricity that sparked when the eyes of the two soldiers met now held a knowingness and gentle affection that had once been so clumsily concealed.

In some ways, Petra considered paperwork evenings more relaxed than ever since the revelation of their mutual attraction, but in others they had become more desperate - at least for her. Neither of them had so much as pecked the other on the cheek in two weeks due to their intense schedules and lack of spaces to be alone together (their colds hadn't helped either, and the thin walls of the barracks coupled with Levi's fear of discovery ruled out staying the night in one another's rooms)…and so Petra'd had to make do with highly charged stolen glances and the occasional lingering brush of a hand during blade skills. She was still waiting for him to pull another stunt like the kitchen chopping lesson, but it hadn't materialised, neither had she managed to work up the courage to play footsie with him under the table at dinner…

Their gaze met again and the opal blue of his eyes sparked…but after a moment he picked up his pen and returned his attention to his work.

The office, it turned out, was the one place where they had been able to be alone just the two of them, but an overload of work and an unprecedented number of interruptions had thwarted them there too, and each evening once the paperwork was through, Petra found herself dejectedly returning to the barracks alone under orders to 'get enough sleep before drills tomorrow.'

She wondered if it was affecting him at all. Even with his guard down like this he could be so hard to read; like he had three of his own walls constructed inside, and she'd only made it through the gate of the first one. She smiled to herself as she dipped her pen into the ink pot, imagining herself as a giant, ugly titan, bursting through Levi's wall Maria, bricks and mortar flying through the air as he watched on from his Sina castle in horrified awe, his eyes wide in that way they only went when he was completely taken off guard. Humanity's strongest or not, she was going to get through to him and shower him with affection. Petra didn't back down from a challenge.

"Something amusing you?" His low voice cut through, though he didn't glance up.

"No Captain." She watched him as he wrote, "Just thinking about a funny letter Eld received last week sir."

He stopped, catching her eye,

"You don't have to be so formal with me Pet."

She licked her lips mindlessly, "Noted."

She wasn't sure how much longer she could go without pouncing on him, knowing the perfection that resided beneath that fluffed up cravat and finically buttoned white shirt, and at this point the only thing stopping her from making any unruly moves was her deep respect for him as her commanding officer. He was a stickler - it was part of the reason for his success - and his particularity about how he did things was something she found bizarrely attractive about him. It was tricky to parse her respect for his apparent rule-abiding nature with the fact that that same nature made her heart flutter and desire pulse through her marrow.

She brought her hand to stop at the end of a final sentence and cleared her throat breezily. He froze, eyes flitting to her briefly, then back down to his work.

Petra repressed a teasing grin,

"Have you always stuck so rigidly to the rules, Captain?"

He slowed again, and gave her a flat look, "Thought I just told you not to be so formal."

"Mm, you did." Her voice was alight with smiling.

"And don't 'the rules' dictate that you should always use your superior's honorific? My lenience with you is hardly following that."

Once again he returned to his work. A chuckle sat in Petra's throat. In his mind the conversation had ended, but she wasn't done pushing.

"It's just…I've heard, sir, that you were once quite the rogue - before joining the scouts, I mean."

He snorted,

"Have you now."

Petra chewed her lip with a concentrated frown. She supposed it was never going to be so easy as just asking him a question or two.

Returning her pen to its pot, she crossed her arms and raised her brow, fixedly watching him. After several minutes, when he hadn't so much as changed the rhythm of his writing, she shuffled as noisily as she could in her chair, and leant forward, resting her chin in her hand, watching him once more with a concentrated, curious zeal that she hoped would force him to pay attention to her.

…

"The hell are you doing?"

Score.

"Watching you for signs of roguery, Captain."

From the tension in his neck and the minuscule twitches of his mouth she could tell he was trying not to smile, which in itself was another win. Once he'd beaten the urge, he queried;

"And…?" Then he mirrored her position, leant forward, chin in hand. She felt her heart soar as his lovely eyes pierced her, but she'd be damned if she was going to let him beat her that way.

"Far as I can tell, you're as straight-laced as they come, sir."

"That so? While we're on the subject let me ask - how much am I paying you for your observations?"

"Well sir, for the work I'm putting in, I'd say I was vastly undercompensated."

His eyes narrowed and his lip quirked at the edge.

"…although…looking at you now Captain, I may have to change my assessment…I'm seeing hints of a rogue after all…right around…" She reached out and brushed the corner of his mouth with her thumb, "…here."

He smiled easily under her touch and she beamed in response. Nothing in the world could make her feel quite so good as watching the tension leave his body in response to her. That familiar pull in the chest urged them towards each other, but as quickly as it arose, the office door burst open and Oruo dashed into the room, coming to a stop just behind Petra with his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

Levi shot up out of his seat and Petra sighed inaudibly.

"What is it?" Levi questioned, and Petra was certain she heard more than a touch of frustration in it. Perhaps the lack of contact was affecting him more than he let on.

"Forgive me Captain." Oruo puffed, "It's your horse, sir. She's restless…she won't eat."

Levi scowled, "You ran all the way here to tell me that?"

Oruo finally stood up straight, a bead of sweat forming above his crinkled brow, "I thought you might be able to get her to settle Captain. I know how important she is to you. If that mare doesn't eat tonight, she won't be any use in training tomorrow morning."

Petra looked on with wide, perplexed eyes at the twitching muscles in Oruo's cheek as he tried to remain composed.

Levi exhaled irritably and pushed his fingertips into his forehead; "Fine. We're almost done here anyway. Petra, finish up the last few papers. I'll come down now."

With that he pulled his cloak from the back of his chair, and swept out, Oruo in tow.

Trust Oruo to barge in with evening horse-related problems…a literal night-mare. Petra gave a defeated sigh, picking up her pen once again. Intimacy would have to wait.

Gunther came racing towards the squad at such a speed that he was almost a blur and threw a newspaper flatly on the mess hall table,

"Have you seen the paper today?"

Eld lifted a brow, pulling the newspaper nearer to him to read the headline:

DISAPPEARANCE OF ONE PRIZE ASS

"Looks like everybody's running with the same joke." He quipped quietly, "You read it?"

Gunther took his seat, "Mm. Doesn't say anything we didn't know already, though the guy is really cut up about it - and there's a request for anyone with any information to write in to the paper."

"Like for anonymous tips?" Petra asked, drawing the paper towards herself and Gunther nodded in response.

Oruo poked a stewed carrot on his plate with a fork, "I thought you wrote back to him. Some help you must've been."

"I did write back. Though it was a week or so ago now." Eld gave Oruo skeptical look, "I told him to talk to the Military Police. Never got a response."

"Wow…" Petra's eyes were comically wide as she scanned the article, "Listen to this -

'Mr Grüntzels had this to say on the matter: 'I've reached out but no-one is willing to help me. Members of the local authorities have explained that they don't have the time or resources for problems like this. I don't understand why they won't treat this crime as the crime that it is, the theft of property - of a beloved mule. I have run out of places to turn to and without Herbert the donkey motivation at the farm has plummeted and we are harvesting less than ever before.'"

Petra looked up from the page, worried, "Maybe you should've helped him…"

"Yeah you heartless bastard." Oruo said through a mouthful of mess-hall stew.

"For Maria's sake don't talk with your mouth full!" Petra chided.

"Helped him how?" Eld questioned incredulously, "For all I know some dumb kid took the thing into town and sold it for some magic fucking beans."

"Poor guy." Gunther said quietly, taking back the paper and rolling it up, "'They don't have the time or resources'. We all know what that's code for: the Military Police won't help the common folk without a bribe."

"Which would mean he's out of pocket either way. Pay the thieves or pay the MP's…not much of a choice if you ask me." Oruo drawled, loosely gesturing with his fork.

"At the very least I hope he gets some good tips from civilians writing in." Petra said sadly.

Eld sighed, "I gotta say guys, you all sure have a lotta sympathy for this farmer and his lost donkey."

"Well you know, if it were me, and someone had taken my guitar hostage, I'd be crushed. Dad bought it for me as a kid, it's my most prized possession." Petra said pensively.

"Mm." Gunther folded his arms, speaking seriously, "I'd definitely write in to a paper for help if kidnappers took my novels that James gifted me."

"And could you imagine if they took the Captain's selection of cravats?" Petra jested, "There'd be hell to pay."

"And my cravats." Oruo inserted, "I don't know how I'd bear the loss. Hell would most certainly need paying then because-"

"Alright, alright point taken." Eld waved his hand, "I'll send the guy another letter. See if he has any information he didn't reveal to the paper. You know - stuff that only the thief would know or whatever."

"Great!" Petra beamed, "Keep me in the loop, I'll see if I can help too."

She held her hand up for a high-five and he lamely hit it. So now he was helping out with a donkey kidnapping. Man, this month was a real wild ride.

The office door tentatively creaked open, and Levi found he was surprised but content to see Petra bustle in carrying a large linen bag.

"Working on a Sunday Captain?"

She didn't stop to wait for a response, knowing his reply would either be non-existent or sarcastic, and instead rummaged through the bag while Levi fell into his customary trance watching her. As she shuffled through the contents in search of something, he considered her small nose, a little red from the cold weather, then her bright searching eyes, and finally her delicate hand as it habitually tucked loose strands of her red hair behind her ear to help her focus on her task.

He stood abruptly and instinctually from his desk chair, an impulse brought about by his excruciating desperation to be close to her.

They were both well aware that their physical relationship would be tricky and opportunistic, but, Levi had once again, as he was wont to do, underestimated the power of attraction. He'd foolishly figured that, after their first time, their urges would be quelled for a while, and they'd more or less be able to return to work as usual; that they'd maybe find time for that sort of thing every couple of months or something. Having had no previous experience of this kind of closeness, and a libido that was, until her, almost non-existent, it'd been his best guess at how these things worked outside of a brothel…

But he was a moron.

Instead it was just as it was before, if not worse: he was plagued by daily intrusive thoughts of her angelic, sighing face, her silken skin and hard nipples flourishing in the candlelight, sometimes at inappropriate times - but - this time the thoughts weren't imagined; they were remembered. Real events, real euphoria that occurred in this very office, on this very desk.

Even for a master of self-restraint it was proving very difficult not to act on his rushing feelings when she was near him, and at this point the only thing that had been stopping him making any unruly moves during their paperwork evenings was the fact that they'd almost been caught the first time, and he cared more about her reputation than his pleasure. Other than that, there simply hadn't been an opportunity to. Someone always seemed to be around to throw a spanner in the works. Damned busy, nosy-ass scouts.

"It's in here somewhere." She was muttering under her breath, concentrating as he wandered around the front of the table coming to stand right by her. It amused him that she was yet to notice his movement, so focused she was on her search.

"Gosh darn it…where…" She froze, biting her lip, then clocked where he stood. He leant in and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear again that had become loose, enjoying the pink glow that developed across her cheeks as he did so. With the same hand moving back around her head, fingers interlacing with her hair, he pressed a slow, simple kiss on her lips, and delighted in the sound of her surprised inhale.

"That what you were looking for?" He mumbled as they parted, bringing his hand around to feel the fine softness of her cheek, thumb easing back and forth along her skin, considering her beautiful face in the glow from the window's afternoon light.

Her auburn eyelashes fluttered as she blinked broadly twice, stunned,

"N-no…"

Then, golden-brown eyes still trained on him, she slowly lifted a neatly folded grey piece of fabric from the bag, which he now saw was packed full of neatly folded items.

"Your…shirt…um…" She swallowed as his eyebrow ticked up, "I…washed it. I had laundry duty today when I got back from town…"

"I see." He said, moving his hand down towards the grey square of material.

"But…" She started, "I'd much rather find that other thing again if…" She leant back in, returning his kiss, but this time it was searing. She wordlessly placed the shirt back down and moved a hand up through his undercut, stepping in closer, the bag of laundered clothes forgotten as their hot bodies pushed into one another.

Blood coursed through him and he allowed his animal instinct to take over as he squeezed her torso into his, not letting her escape, and his cock has already began to throb through his trousers and he nibbled at her lips, then delved into her mouth with his tongue.

She massaged the muscles of his back, her blissful sigh just as he remembered it, and the world was once again beginning to blur around him as he unleashed a lusty moan into her mouth. He stopped dead, the world came screaming back into focus as his unexplainable gut instinct kicked in. He promptly stepped back, holding her shoulders at an arms length. For the second time she blinked at him, utterly startled, but as she opened her mouth, there was a quick rap at the door, which then instantly swung open to reveal Oruo, panting with his hands on his knees, exactly as he had done before.

By the time Levi looked back to Petra, her hands were on his cravat and she was squinting, mid-sentence as if she'd been chatting the whole time;

"It's hidden by the crease of the fabric, but it's definitely there - if you give it to me sir I'll take it to laundry and get that stain right out! Can't have our esteemed Captain walking about with a soiled cravat now can we?!" She giggled slightly too loudly, then pulled his cravat out from his collar, having apparently undone it while she was babbling.

Levi struggled to contain his bewilderment.

"Captain…" Oruo wheezed, "Squad Leader Ness needs you at the workshop. There's another consignment of wood that arrived for the effigy that he needs you to sign off."

"That's not what he said earlier." Levi growled.

Oruo began to sweat afresh, scratching the back of his head, "Heh - right - he did say that it wasn't expec-"

Levi scowled, his voice sharp, "Tell him I'll be down shortly. And take this package from Erwin to the post office. I won't have the time to do it myself, seeing as I now have other commitments."

Oruo curiously took the parcel from his Captain, crinkling the paper wrapping in his fingers. "Nile Dok…" he mumbled, reading the front as he sluggishly stalked towards the door, judging its weight.

"Hey. Get moving." Levi commanded at the ambling man, who instantly jolted,

"Yessir!" He exclaimed, hastening a salute before vanishing through the door in a trail of dust.

The two smitten soldiers looked at one another, once again beaten by chance.

"Shit."

Levi sighed, taking his cravat back from Petra and flipping up his collar to begin re-tying it,

"Remind me to ask Erwin for a lock for this shitty place."

"Oh…" Petra began coyly, "If you're asking for things…"

"What?" He frowned, fluently throwing the under-section of the cravat over the top.

"Maybe…a sofa?" She smiled sweetly, turning down his collar, making full use of her stupid, gorgeous, pleading doe eyes.

Levi scoffed, "Nice try. And what would I say it's for? All the meetings I host?"

Her hands came away from his collar, and she looked down, dispirited.

"Thought so." He muttered, returning to the other side of the desk, "You better get going. Make the most of your free evening. I'll see you at drills tomorrow."

"What about your shirt sir?" She asked, holding out the grey folded material towards him.

"Keep it." He said, shrugging on his black jacket, "Looks better on you anyhow."

He didn't miss the cheerfulness that returned to light up her face before they left the office to go their separate ways, again.

The nights were getting longer, and the time Eld had to make his decision was rapidly running out. He was still completely torn. Sometimes he'd wistfully watch the young cadets as they trained, and imagine himself guiding them and correcting their errors, as he had done earlier in the year with Emmett. He was reactive, quick and consistently made good calls in the field - he'd be a excellent squad leader, and there were days when he was certain that the promotion was the right path to take, but equally there were days with incidents that made his path less definite…

"Petra?" He hurried into the common room where the woman in question was merrily seasoning her hot pot, "A letter was at the door - same handwriting as before…I'll bet it's a reply from our farmer."

Shocked, Petra dropped her wooden spoon and hurried to the counter, "What're you waiting for Mr Git? Open it!"

Eld didn't need to be told twice.

He pulled open the blue wax seal and eased out the folded letter, but inside there was something else; another, smaller envelope with a green wax seal that had been previously opened.

"Huh…" He mumbled, picking up the smaller envelope.

Petra grabbed the folded letter and began scanning it; "Ah - he says that he was over the moon to receive your last letter offering to help out - and that you're the only person to get back to him after the article!" She beamed, "See, isn't that nice?"

"Sure. If we solve it." Eld murmured, pulling a piece of paper from the smaller envelope. He made a face, holding up the contents to show her. A small pencil sketch of a donkey. It was tricky to make out as the pencil had been smudged a little, but it looked as though the mule was inside a bricked room, and there were some large circular stones in the background…it was familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it.

"I'm guessing this is Herbert then. Some kind of…ransom…drawing?" He stroked his beard.

"Wait, I can see something through the paper…on the back…" Petra pointed to the drawing and Eld turned it around, and the pair of them scanned the inked all caps letters:

FOR: HUTCH GRÜNTZELS

CAN YOU FIND ME?

SATURDAY NIGHT, 9PM.

BRING THE MONEY.

IF YOU DON'T, YOUR ASS GETS MY ARROW.

"Rats. Thats tonight! He mention this is his note?"

"Hold on." Petra picked up the letter again, "Right - so - apparently the small envelope containing the ransom note drawing was sent in to the newspaper from the kidnappers using the anonymous tip address. This bit is less important but - he also says that he'd tried asking the Garrison regiment for help when the Military Police didn't pan out, but that it was like talking to a brick wall."

"Hmmm." Eld nodded slowly, seriously, "That makes sense."

Petra looked a little nervous, "Any ideas?"

He narrowed his eyes and picked up the small envelope that contained the ransom note again and turned it around in his hands.

"Wait a second." He stopped, gazing down at the envelope, more specifically, at the green wax seal. "This green seal…it's from the survey corps."

Petra's eyes widened, "No way. The scouts?" She took the envelope from his hands scrutinising the wax seal, "But…why would a scout steal a donkey?"

"Perhaps our good friend Captain Levi was looking for another ride - I heard his horse has been fussing recently."

Petra clapped a hand to her mouth, and for a moment he thought it was in shock, but he quickly realised that she was just trying not to laugh.

"What?" He replied earnestly, "He's the only ex-con scout I know, which means that right now, he's my prime suspect. Who else do we know that could pull something like this off?"

"Really Eld, the Captain?" Petra wiped a tear of repressed giggling from her eye, "Captain Levi, a donkey thief?"

"I knew I recognised it from somewhere…" Eld muttered, studying the drawing.

Petra continued with her spiel; "And where would Captain Levi be housing his new, expensive steed, do you think?"

"The Old Mill building."

"Oh - wow. You answered that a lot faster than I was expecti-"

"Come on half-pint. Let's go."

"But the others-" Petra protested.

"No time to wait around for them to show up. Roll out."

As the pair of them marched purposefully through the cold, dark fog towards the edge of the compound, Eld knew he was being silly. Of course the thief wasn't the Captain, what use would he have for a donkey? Or even the one thousand gold coins that that donkey would apparently earn him? There was surely no tea blend or cleaning product that cost that amount of money, and the man didn't spend his earnings on anything else. It was probably just some other hard up scout, trying their luck to get some more money. A weird and illegal way to go about it, but still, each to their own.

For Eld though…something about playing the part, leading this ridiculous detective mission was thrilling, and Petra was playing the crucial role of his wide-eyed sidekick flawlessly. At this point it was a bonus if he got the donkey back to its rightful home. He was in his element: deducing the best course of action on the fly, delegating to his team…he felt important.

The old building appeared through the gloom, faint light glowing from under the door. Eld suddenly held out his arm, stopping his companion in her tracks.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Keep your voice down." He replied in a whisper, "We don't know what it's gonna be like in there. Herbert might be guarded."

"Oh. Of course." She replied lowly, nodding.

Eld squinted into the dark up the small mud path that led to the entrance. "I can't see any tracks leading up there, but there is a light on…" He stroked his chin, "Alright. Here's what we're gonna do. I'll go in first, you tail me. If there's any sign of trouble, deploy your gear and hit the rafters. We can use our flares to obscure the vision of any attackers. You keep me covered from up high, and I'll retrieve Herbert with this." From inside his jacket he pulled out a coiled rope: his lasso. "Got it?"

"Got it." She repeated, her trademark determination ablaze in her eyes.

They set off, racing along the outside wall of the old mill building to the doorway, and with a final look to her, Eld gave a firm nod and kicked the door in.

"Alright the jig's up! We…" He stopped still. The crime-solving duo were staring into an empty room. A single wall torch was lit, the light licking the walls of what looked exactly like the chamber from the drawing: the distinctive large circular stone grain mill sat in the middle of the floor, except, there was no donkey to be seen, and no kidnappers either.

"Huh…" He mumbled and scratched his head, glancing sidelong at Petra, "I was so certain that that was-"

"Look!" She called out, pointing above the grain mill to the ceiling, where, hanging from a long thin ribbon was some colourful pink and orange paper maché…in the shape of a donkey.

"What the-"

He began, but was silenced as an arrow zoomed through the air from seemingly nowhere, piercing the toy creature, which began to rapidly emit billows of bright blue smoke.

Within seconds, the room was filled.

"Petra?!" Eld called out, coughing.

"Eld!" He heard her yell, but she'd vanished within the cobalt-coloured fog.

Out of the blue, everything went black.

.

.

.

When Eld came around it was pitch dark. He was sat on a hard chair, a sack was over his head, and could feel rope constricting his wrists, ankles and stomach. Fuck.

He swallowed uncomfortably. How the hell had he managed to fuck that up so royally? And where was Petra? He quietly prayed she'd got out, she was artful, she might've managed to deploy her gear as they'd discussed and made it to safety. Lord he hoped so.

His breathing quickened from inside the sack, which at that very moment was pulled from his head. The room was still pitch black.

From the gloom, a match was struck, illuminating the small space with a yellow glow. A pokey room came faintly into view, timber panelling and some ominous figures wearing long dark robes like monks, except each with a potato sack over their head and two dark pits torn into them where the eyes should be.

The central figure with the match bent down and lit an oil lamp at Eld's feet. He spluttered, struggling in his bindings, his eyes flitting in alarm between the three cloaked forms that surrounded him.

"Eld Jinn." A deep voice boomed, as the central figure stood, "You have been selected as a sacrifice."

A single bead of sweat rolled down Eld's face, though he was attempting to remain composed.

Shit. Holy shit. All this for a donkey? Was the donkey a descendent of the king? What in three walls had he done to deserve this? Fuck. He was going to die here in this tiny wooden room, with no goodbyes to his wife or family, no promotion…

"Who are you? What do you want?" He demanded, almost managing to conceal the cracking in his voice.

The central figure raised a hand as though to silence him, then gestured to its companions. The figure to the left raised a tankard, the figure to the right, a basin and a rag.

"Begin the cleansing ritual." The voice thundered.

From either side they approached, and, through the gloom, the central figure pulled a blade from its sleeve and appeared to glide across the hay strewn floor towards him.

"Wait! No!" Eld choked out, panicked and struggling wildly with his bindings, but they wouldn't budge.

The knife and Eld's eyes flashed in the low light as the wraith-like figure approached-

wait…wraith-like?

"Time for your mead shower, bitch."

Now there was a familiar voice coming from his left.

Warm, sticky ale from the tankard drenched him along with a wave of confused relief and Eld's mouth fell open.

How could he be such an idiot.

"…ah come on." He mumbled to himself. His hair had come out of it's regular bun and was sticking to his cheeks with the beer. His face cracked into a wide grin.

The three bodies froze and appeared to look at one another.

"Continue." The deep voice resounded, and the wraith to his right (who he now noted was a lot shorter than the other two) dipped the rag into the basin and began lathering his face with soapy water.

Eld focused on the eye-holes in her potato sack, "What's the plan then small fry? Are you throwing me to the wolves? Feeding me to the mules?"

She froze and he heard a very faint clear of the throat,

"Small - who? N-no we're three - uh - mass murderers!" Petra squeaked in a ridiculous high-pitched voice.

"The architects of your doom!" Oruo added from Eld's left.

Eld chuckled, "Gee, I can see why Gunther did all the talking. You guys are just the worst at this."

Gunther's sack covered head fell into his knife-free hand.

"Quiet you!" Oruo commanded, "You're here to pay the ultimate price!"

"The ultimate price!" Petra reiterated.

"Right…and uh, if you don't mind, who am I paying this price to? Herbert the ass?"

"The wraiths of course." Oruo boomed, "Now shut your hole, stop asking so many stupid questions."

Gunther sighed, pulling the potato sack from his head, "Give it up guys. He figured it out."

The others quickly followed suit, Petra placing her basin and rag on the ground. Eld glanced at the three of them, eyebrows raised.

"This is your fault - your voice gave it away, you didn't even try to conceal it!" Petra pointed emphatically at Oruo.

"My fault? Could you not hear yourself? You sounded like a demented old hag."

"Exactly - terrifying!"

Eld interjected with a grin, "Petra, it was honestly the least menacing thing I've ever heard in my goddamn life."

"Menace comes in many forms!" She defiantly announced.

"Wow." Eld shook his head, smiling, "Well done. Gotta say, that was a very solid Night of the Wraiths prank. The best I've seen. I'd clap you all, but my hands are tied."

It was at that moment that Eld realised he'd been tied up with his very own lasso. He nearly groaned.

"Hm." Gunther smiled back, a hint of pride about him, "I'm surprised we made it this far honestly. There were some moments there when I wasn't sure we'd get you to the mill at all without a fight."

"So…go on then. Tell me how you did it. I take it there was no Herbert Romeo III, and no kidnapping for ransom either."

Oruo downed the dregs of ale from his tankard and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "Your first mistake was at the beginning of the month, at the tavern, when you left your little notebook on the table to buy a round. Being the astute investigator I am, I scanned the most recent page of notes, uncovering your plans to trick each one of us for the Night of the Wraiths."

"So that's where my notebook went…" Eld muttered.

"The plans were just drafts, not fully formed ideas yet, so we wanted to make sure we nipped them the bud before you had time to finish them." Petra added, "We wanted to trick you instead, get you back for last year. We realised the best way to do it would be as a team. That's when Gunther had an idea."

"I wrote you the first letter largely as a test to see how you'd respond." Gunther began, "I wanted to appeal to your hero persona, and I knew you'd never remember the name of that farmer, so Petra's crossword anagram skills were put to the test."

"Hutch Grüntzels…Gunther Schultz. Holy shit." Eld's eyes widened and he looked to Petra, who beamed with pride.

"You were extremely skeptical of the letter." Gunther continued, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "So we knew we were going to have to try harder to get you to bite."

"That's when I saved the day." Oruo proclaimed with a self-assured step forward, "Without my family contact at the local paper, we never would have gotten the story printed."

Petra and Gunther rolled their eyes.

"Did people actually write in to send tips?" Eld asked.

Petra giggled, "Not really. But one lady did write sweet letter in sending Mr Grüntzels her condolences and ranting about the Military Police."

"Petra's sweet nature meant she would be the most likely of us to offer her assistance, and she was the last person you would suspect of deception." Gunther said, "Then, once we got you to write back offering your help, we set up the sting."

"I was also meant to 'solve' the clues if you were struggling with them." Petra smiled, "But you got there so quickly I didn't really have to do much."

Eld smiled back.

"…and the smoking paper donkey?" He asked with a quirked brow.

"One of Hange's experiments." Gunther answered, "An invention they'd come up with as a child for birthday parties, remodelled to include a smoke bomb using components from the flare guns."

"They were a little too excited to whip that one out." Oruo groaned.

Eld nodded slowly, "And, uh, where are we now?"

"Inside the titan effigy the Commander commissioned for this year's Night of the Wraiths."

Eld swallowed, "Damn…"

The titan effigy…the Commander mentioned it in in a memo to all the squads just over a month ago. They were building and burning it in the large sparring field outside the ODM runs for locals to dress up and come and watch, the idea being, as usual, a way for the scouts to get donors, making the most of the festival. He'd been so scattered he hadn't put any of it together. What an idiot.

"Man. This is…" Eld shook his head, dumbfounded, "I don't know what to say. Impressive. To be honest I can't believe I forgot what day it was today, but…the chances are I wouldn't have remembered to prank you guys in the first place anyway. There's been a lot going on recently and I…"

He looked down, his hair falling in front of his face in mead-sodden clumps. The answer to Erwin's job offer now stunningly clear.

"Thanks. That was fun. I can't imagine ever working as part of another team." He said with a sincere smile.

Great as running a new squad would be, there was only one place he truly belonged. He was sure Harriet would understand, their family planning had been based off his current salary in any case. On Monday, he would turn down the Commander's generous offer.

"This is gonna be hard to top next year. I better get prepping."

"You're damn right." Oruo declared haughtily.

Petra giggled, "You should've seen your face!"

"Don't think I've ever seen anyone so shit-scared. Even beyond the wall." Gunther stated.

"Sure, whatever. I'll let you have it…for now." Eld quirked a brow, "So…since I figured it out…would you mind untying me?"

Oruo's face melted into a knowing grin, as the three began closing in on him;

"Oh no, not yet, you still have to pay the ultimate price."

"A sacrifice for the wraiths!" Petra called out,

Gunther raised the knife,

"Say goodbye to that goatee-"

"What?!" Eld began frenetically jostling in his seat in an attempt to escape the trio, "Does the Captain know about this?"

"Know about it?" Petra laughed, "The beard shaving bit was his idea!"

"NO!"

From outside the wooden effigy, cawing crows took flight into the foggy night.

Erwin's crazy Night-of-the-Wraiths-effigy-burning-fundraiser-dress-up-outside-in-a-damn-freezing-field-party was in full swing and Levi had so far spent it avoiding locals who were bugging him with incessant questioning. His go to response had become; "Read a damn paper." …which went against everything he actually thought; the scribblers often wrote any old shit they felt like, and anyone gullible enough to take their over-dramatised extreme versions at face value was a blockhead, but, at the same time, Levi wasn't paid nearly enough to deal with the moronic questions of the general public. Especially not on a 'night off'.

It'd been about thirty minutes since his squad had emerged from the fifteen-metre tall titan effigy to veteran cheers, a newly clean-faced, waving Eld in tow. He looked a lot neater now, Levi hoped he'd consider keeping himself clean-shaven. Perhaps next year the squad could do him a thorough haircut.

The band had set up on their small makeshift stage under glowing red string lanterns, and were dressed in some quite ridiculous outfits that ranged from Mike as a drumming werewolf to Nanaba as an elf with a flute, to dark priest Moblit with his acoustic guitar. In front of double-bass playing Lynne, who was simply wearing a white sheet with eyeholes cut into it, stood Petra and her guitar, strumming and singing in her captivating way while local brats ran around playing tag in front of the stage.

Levi hadn't missed when she removed her kidnapper's robe to reveal his favourite black corset with the red lace, which sat atop a full, floor length black skirt, then Nifa placing a large witch's hat over onto her copper head to match the girl's own, and that of Petra's friends from her ex-squad. She was perfect.

"Hey Levi, great costume!"

Hange and Erwin approached him in their respective ridiculous attire, Hange as a 'mad scientist' and Erwin with a long black and red cape with a popped collar and…eyeliner?

"I'm not wearing a costume." Levi grumbled.

"Oh. Right. Well I suppose you're scary enough without one!" They beamed.

"And you call this dressing up do you?" He sneered, grabbing the front of their stained lab coat.

"Of course!" They chuckled, "Not one of these items is regulation. For one thing the goggles are far too big, and the-"

"Spare me." Levi ruffled their messy hair and released their coat from his grasp, then turned to Erwin, "And…what are you meant to be? A man whose eyebrows grew so bushy he couldn't see to pick normal clothes out of his closet?"

Erwin smiled widely, "Not familiar with the chilling tales of Dracula, Levi? I think you'd enjoy them as the cold, solitary type."

Levi's brow twitched, "You always did love a ridiculous spectacle."

"All these ghosts out haunting us,

They follow us day to day,

We'll let them know that they're welcome here,

All this tragedy what else can we say?

So darling don your hat, your cloak, your mask,

In this world our love gone so fast,

We can be whatever we want…"

The audience clapped the end of the song and the band began to pack down their set-up, Moblit doing a call out for any donations to the Scouts.

Levi, under the spell of a beautiful witch, was drawn towards the stage.

Erwin's voice glanced off his back, "Where are you going Levi?"

"To have some tea, with ginger."

—

Erwin's smile grew exponentially as he watched the short man walk away in his classic black jacket, dissolving into the costumed bodies of the crowd.

"You know, you really do look like a demon when you smile like that." Hange teased.

"ERWIN!"

Erwin and Hange looked over their shoulders to see the irate face of Nile Dok stomping towards them, dressed as a dog.

"I see my packages arrived safely Nile. Thank you for being here and showing your support for the Scout Regiment. We'll be taking donations after the effigy burning."

"What the hell are you playing at?! This outfit is tailor made!" Nile barked, gesturing to the shaggy brown all-in-one.

"Don't you like it? I think it's very fitting."

Hange was screeching with laughter as Nile howled,

"Why?!"

Erwin smirked, "Don't you remember? You always used to say 'it's better to be a living dog than a dead lion.' Would you like a drink? Let's fetch you a tankard of mead. It's on me."

Hange and Erwin began to walk off towards the makeshift bar, chuckling, with an enraged Nile in tow, growling;

"How did you even get my measurements you psychopath-"

—

Petra's breath hitched as a warm hand met her bare arm from behind, and she felt his hot breath on her ear;

"Barracks. Now." His voice was firm, commanding as it was when they were drilling and she'd done something wrong. It sent a full shiver down her spine, but as she turned to see him, he'd vanished into the warm glow of the party.

—

The larger than expected crowd of village folk and scouts was gathering around the base of the fifteen metre titan effigy, chattering brightly, excited for the big event. Oruo pushed through them despairingly, intently raking through the crowd for any signs of them, but eventually made his way back over to his squad mates, dejected.

"Hey Eld." Oruo tapped him on the shoulder, "Have you seen Petra or the Captain?"

Eld took a sip from his tankard, "No. Haven't seen either of them since the band stopped playing."

"They might just be well disguised." Gunther mumbled, taking a bite out of an apple, eyes fixated on the effigy.

"Yeah." Eld added, "They'll be around somewhere."

A bead of sweat graced Oruo's brow.

Petra's heart was pounding and her skin prickled with goosebumps as she flung open the door to their quarters, to the hallway which sat, empty and dark. Her breath melted into the air as she pelted down the corridor, ducking her head into the vacant, cold common room. Not there. Lifting her skirt so she could move faster, she opened the bathroom door, also cloaked in empty shadow. Not there. Down the gloomy hallway she ran to her very own bedroom door, but that was dim too, bed made, tidy, just as she'd left it. Well then, there was only one other option…

The door at the end of the hall called to her, and she recalled with a nervous flutter her many late-night fantasies of making this exact journey, of throwing open the door to his chamber, of their ravishing of one another. It was surreal to be approaching it now with the same fervour as her hallucinations.

She didn't knock, simply cast open the door breathlessly.

"You took your time."

There he stood in the flickering light of two candles, white shirt half unbuttoned, cravat and black jacket neatly folded over the edge of his chair.

Her mouth went completely dry, and she realised as she approached him, moth drawn to a lamp, that she hadn't taken in any other details about his bedroom at all, and suddenly her eager hands were ghosting up his abs and chest, finding their delirious way under his shirt.

"Pet…" His low voice whispered in a heated puff over her lips, "We don't have time for all that."

Amber eyes widening she gazed into his as he lifted her without delay and dropped her onto his rudimentary single bed, placing himself over her as she sank into his pristine white blankets, already in ecstasy. He took her lips quickly, then, not breaking eye contact with her, travelled down to her chest, and taking an end of the red lace bow of her corset in his teeth, pulled it undone in one long, slow movement. She shuddered with anticipation.

"I t-thought you said we didn't have time for all that." She stuttered, smiling and he grunted a single laugh, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side,

"I'm right. We don't."

The next thing she knew he'd already ripped open the front of her corset, freeing her breasts, pushed her skirts up to her waist and was easing her underwear down her bare legs. He was certainly fast when he needed to be. She'd barely caught her breath when he began kneading her tits and kissing her deeply. His low rumbling moans sent heat pooling between her legs and she eased herself up to be sat, granting herself access to the top button of his trousers as their soft, wet tongues played.

Levi felt himself growing harder at the feel of her hand fumbling with his button, and his breath began to stagger. He helped her, pulling down his trousers and his own underwear, freeing himself. She gasped, and he trailed his fingertips up the smooth skin of her legs to the patch of ginger hair between her thighs to begin his considered movements. As before, his face fell into a concentrated expression as he tried to draw out his favourite music.

Petra wanted more, she was aching for all of him, and if they didn't have much time, she would have to take it into her own hands. Each hand either side of his neck she forced his grey-blue eyes to hers, and he withdrew his hand from its position. Then, with her legs clamped around his waist, and a forceful swivel of her hips, she rolled them over, just about flinging them off the small bed to the floorboards, but not quite, so that she was straddling him, breasts free in the cool air, black skirt curtaining around their legs. She shrugged off her open corset.

His eyes widened a touch as he took in the sight of her, of their new position, and he attempted to get up, but she pushed him back down with her hands on his shoulders and a shake of her head, flames thrashing in her irises, and he obeyed, spellbound, bringing his hands to her sides.

Petra manoeuvred with a hand to slip him inside her, and began rocking her hips, rotating around him, and he felt himself growing uncontrollably bigger and harder. Her wetness surrounded him, enveloping him, and he was already losing himself to the beautiful burning eyes, bright copper hair and freely bouncing breasts above him.

Petra felt her body quaking over him. She was sighing in rapture, holding humanity's strongest between her soaked, fortunate thighs. His hair was mussed along the pillow, and his cheeks had taken on an uncharacteristically warm hue as he bucked his hips to meet her assured movements, filling her to the hilt, his hands furiously clenching her skirts at her hips. Mouth open, he panted into the night air,

"Ah!"

And she responded in kind, crying his name, taking in all of him.

His body began to tremble as he neared his peak, encouraged by her whining in pleasure. How could such an angel want this from him? What was she seeing? He was the luckiest son of a bitch living.

Not moments later he ejaculated with a shout, and she wasn't far behind, the warmth of her pussy undulating around him, her euphoric gasp melting into his bedroom air. She collapsed onto him in a heaving heap, and he felt the stickiness of their connection, her nipples hard and her breasts soft as they pressed into his chest. Sweetly, she nipped at his neck and jawline with little kisses. Just five more minutes, then they'd get dressed...

This was what it would be like - what it had to be like. Secret, stolen moments of beauty nestled within a life of duty.

The three remaining members of Captain Levi's squad watched as the raging flames lit up the navy night sky, smoke rolling up towards the stars as the giant wooden titan began to crumble into ashes before the awed crowd.

Oruo sighed.

Gunther smiled.

"My chin is cold." Eld mumbled.

Notes:

oh my lord what a hefty chapter..thanks for ur patience with the updates etc i was off on tour for two weeks!

yes this chapter is named after the awesome film a close shave, true genius
if ur interested the song is based on halloween by phoebe bridgers (no surprises there)

so with this one i wanted to challenge myself to write an A plot, a B plot and a C plot all in one chapter that tied up...it ended up being more like two A plots and a couple C plots and many cliches hahaha and Eld's plotline pays very iffy homage to the film the wickerman. and as you can maybe tell this was meant to originally be posted on oct 31st...there are things i would maybe change now that ive done this, but im proud of myself for sticking it out nonetheless and completing my own challenge.
once again i have no idea when the next one will go up as sadly, life is still a raging garbage fire.

hope ur all doing well and thanks again for reading and sticking with it, u guys rock ^^

Chapter 16: Rips & Tears

Chapter Text

November

"I'm telling you, there's something going on." Oruo insisted, "Gunther, any twos?"

"Go fish."

Oruo pawed through the pile of face-down cards.

"You keep harping on about it, but I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary." Gunther remarked, "Eld, got any queens?"

"Sorry man. Go fish."

Gunther grumbled and lifted a new card from the haphazard pile.

Eld stroked his newly re-grown beard, "Bring me some hard evidence Oruo and I'll listen to ya. Right now though, sounds like you're just going off gut feeling, and last week your gut feeling told you to try and reel your teacup towards yourself using your ODM hooks. Any fours?"

"Tch." Oruo handed Eld two of his cards.

"Much obliged." The blonde smiled.

"I saw them." Oruo stated emphatically, "What more evidence do you need?"

Eld eyed Gunther, "Any fours?"

"Go fish." Gunther frowned, "And you saw them looking at the stars nearly two months ago now. I remember - it was a nice night, the full harvest moon. We stargaze together all the time on expedition."

"Right, and it's never been a secret who the Captain's favourite is. That doesn't mean anything's going on though man." Eld added, "Besides, could you really imagine the guy in a relationship? His idea of dirty talk would be telling you you missed a spot while you were scrubbing the toilet. I'm not convinced he's ever liked anything ever in his life, let alone anyone."

"Not true my friend, I have it on good authority that he likes me." Oruo blustered, fluffing his cravat with his free hand.

Gunther groaned.

"And yet," Eld began, "We haven't come up with any crackpot theories about the two of you fucking."

Oruo huffed and crossed his arms.

Gunther gestured to him, "Your move."

Oruo didn't move to uncross his arms, firing a look at Eld, "It's not my problem the pair of you are blind."

Eld scoffed, "I'm ok with being blind to things that don't exist."

"So you don't think it means anything that the Captain has a favourite?"

"She brought the squad together." Gunther suspired, grumpy that they were still on the subject, "Remember the shambles we were before she joined? Of course she'd be his favourite, now for the love of Maria play your turn."

"Hold up." Eld proclaimed, "I wanna see something."

Gunther groaned again with more vigour and dropped his cards in defeat.

"Gunther, if you were Captain of this squad, who would be your favourite?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation he replied, "Easy. Petra."

"Mm. And Oruo, same question."

"Well, when I'm made Captain, and with my kill count it won't be too long until that happens let me tell you, I'd be sure to-"

"Answer the question." Gunther said sharply.

"I hardly think that question is releva-"

"It's Petra isn't it?" Eld answered for him, "It's Petra for all of us, not just the Captain. And I'm not saying that as a slight against any of us, that's just how it is."

"What's your point?" Gunther muttered.

"Nothing really. Oruo asked if it meant anything that she was his favourite, but she's everyone's favourite. I guess the only meaning I get from that is that she's a great soldier and nice to hang out with."

"And she makes the best coffee." Gunther tacked on.

"Pfft." Oruo put his cards down. "If you're so sure nothing is going on, then where is she tonight?"

"With her ex-squad at the tavern." Gunther replied plainly, "She said as much after drills, you just don't listen."

"And the Captain?"

Eld scratched his beard, "Dunno. But likely with Commander Erwin and Squad Leader Mike."

"Tch. Whatever." Oruo mindlessly batted his cravat, then stood and made for the common room door.

"Why do you care so much about this anyway?" Gunther fired after him, and he froze in place.

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't. Actually I couldn't care less."

Eld and Gunther shared a look.

"Then why bring it up so much?" Gunther challenged.

"I know," Oruo fully turned back around into the room, blustering, "Let's make it interesting. If it turns out I'm right about this - and I am - then you have to profess in the tavern front of everyone that I am the smartest soldier in the whole survey corps."

Gunther caught the spark in Eld's eye and gave him a look of warning, "Don't."

Eld broke into a wide smile, "Why not? What harm could it do?" He leant back in his chair and regarded Oruo, "You're on. And if you're wrong, then I'll profess to everyone that you're the biggest dumbass in the whole survey corps."

Oruo smirked, "Heh. Alright."

Gunther sighed, "Idiots. I'm going to bed."

Jules dipped her finger in her tankard and swirled it around the tepid cider, "It's complicated. Rose says she's not sure she can take all the anxiety that comes with each expedition any more. She's tired and it's taking a toll on her."

Her lip began to wobble, and from either side Hannah and Petra swooped in, each rubbing an arm supportively.

"So? Is that it?" Petra asked sadly, "Is it…you know…over?"

"I don't know. We kinda just left it…open ended. I can't ask someone who isn't a scout to go through that over and over again. We scouts…c-chose this, and I've seen how upset it makes her every month. But at the same time, I can't lose her. She's…" Fat tears were now rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake as she tried to repress her sobs, "She's the reason I come back."

"I don't know what to say." Petra offered quietly, "That's awful."

Hannah looked at Petra glumly, twiddling with the ends of her dark blue scarf, "These things just never get easier do they. It makes you question your resolve to fight sometimes."

Petra smiled back weakly.

Jules loudly sniffed, wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve, "It would be so much easier if we didn't love each other. How am I supposed stop something so wonderful?" She choked out, "Look at me! I'm a snotty, frazzled mess of a person. Is this what I'm going to be now without her? Forever?!"

"Hey it's ok, it'll be alright." Even Petra wasn't convinced by herself.

"I'm a gross old hag!" Jules wailed loudly. It quickly morphed into a kind of strangled laugh, and the others joined in,

"Don't be silly." Petra exclaimed, batting her friends arm. She made funny face, "If you're a gross old hag, then I guess that makes me a horrid little imp."

"And I'm a screeching banshee!" Hannah laughed, "Now stop your crying and drink your lukewarm cider."

Jules snivelled, and smiling through her tear-stained cheeks, took a long swig. "Maria." She muttered, "It'll all be alright in the end won't it."

"Of course." Hannah replied with a grin, "That's the spirit."

Petra stood to head for the bar, when a shrill sob rattled the tavern windows. She turned back to Hannah and Jules, only to realise that the sound had originated from outside the tavern;

"WHY?!"

Hange.

"It's all my fault! My babies; my poor, sweet angels!"

Every single scout in the bar had fallen silent, beady eyes glued on the slightly steamed up window through which the scientist lamented, pacing in circles. Moblit, sweating and holding a clipboard, reasoned;

"Section Commander - if we to go back to the tent, we can still complete the-"

"I'm a murderer!" They yelled, hands fisting in their messy mop of hair, "They've done nothing wrong, not a single thing! And yet I tortured them. I tortured them and killed them in cold blood."

Moblit was now half chasing them around the the circle, "You're being far too hard on yourself. How were you to know they'd move into the spears' path like that? It was an accident."

"It was negligent!" They cried, "There should have been more of a margin for error - I should have calculated-"

"Section Commander, please." Moblit grabbed their shoulder with his non-clipboard hand and stared straight into their large brown eyes, "Let's go back. We can still document our findings from the day. We shouldn't let this work go to waste."

"But-" they bawled.

"It's in the name of science." Moblit insisted and something in Hange's demeanour shifted. Their eyes became more serious and they grabbed Moblit's shoulders back, the pair of them looking at one another from an arms distance apart, Hange intensely, Moblit with some apprehension.

"You're right." They gave a firm nod, "In the name of science. Chicachironi and Alberto didn't die in vain. It's our duty to honour their legacy."

"…that's the spirit." Moblit replied before the pair promptly disengaged themselves from their odd position, and vanished into the darkness on their way back to the lab.

Petra blinked, stunned.

"I'll guess…I'll go and get us another round now…" She muttered and Hannah and Jules chuckled.

On her way over to the bar, a warm smile spread across Petra's lips as she overheard Hannah cheering up Jules; "See, it could be worse. At least you didn't accidentally murder your prized test subjects."

She caught the bartender's eye, "Three pints of cider please."

The barman nodded and shuffled off.

"Not with your own squad tonight Ral?"

To her right, leaning on the bar like a true war worn veteran, stood her ex-squad leader Clara. She'd been so lost to her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed who she'd strolled up next to…

"And what's so funny? Do you think the deaths of the Section Commander's titan toys is a good thing?" The tall, stocky woman questioned. Her voice was hard as it always had been, but Petra was finding her tone particularly difficult to read.

"N-no, of course I don't." She replied with trepidation.

After Petra's promotion just over a year ago, she'd never quite seen eye to eye with Clara. Their working relationship hadn't ended well to say the least, and they'd barely spoken since, except when absolutely necessary. It wasn't the way Petra had hoped it would've gone. Clara had always treated her fairly, and even kindly when she was a member of the woman's squad.

"Hm." Clara grunted and lifted her tankard.

There was no point in holding grudges in the scouts. Life was simply too short. Perhaps enough time had passed that Clara would be willing to accept an olive branch…

"So, uh, you heard that conversation too huh?" Petra offered.

"The whole tavern heard it." Clara countered, "They weren't discreet."

"No, I guess not." Petra said with a small smile, "Though I suppose it's tough to be discreet when you're that upset."

"Mm." Clara hummed.

Petra felt a spark of something. Their first seemingly normal conversation in over a year; she might be getting somewhere. She wasn't delusional enough to think the pair of them would suddenly become friends, but at least if they could return to amicable acquaintances…

She opened her mouth when the bartender interrupted, placing the three full tankards in front of her.

"Here y'are."

"Thanks." Petra mumbled, passing over some silver coins. The bartender nodded, accepting the coins, and withdrew to serve another soldier.

"I see you got your boots back. I was worried for you." Clara took a swig.

"Huh…?"

"Your boots. You know? It was a while ago now, perhaps you've forgotten." The taller woman remarked, and Petra felt her heart speeding up.

"My boots?"

"Yes. It was early autumn, or end of summer - the night of that heavy storm. I noticed your boots in the entranceway to the office building."

Petra's whole body went cold.

"They were covered in mud. I understood why you'd want to take them off in that state but, nevertheless, you should have taken them with you. You never know, someone else could have taken them thinking they were theirs."

"I..um…" Petra's voice wavered a little. She had to hold it together, she battled with her racing thoughts, keeping her tone even as she asked, "How did you know they were mine?"

"I didn't." Clara smiled, "But I do now."

Petra's mouth fell open. She was such an idiot.

"C-Clara, sir, I mean, I didn't want to track mud in to-"

"To Captain Levi's office?" Clara's dark eyes pierced her, and she turned, arm on the bar to look down towards Petra more directly.

Petra's breath was speeding up, "I wasn't - I mean, I was, but after the night training I just needed to…uh…pick…something up…" She scrunched her eyes up. She was truly a terrible liar.

"Is that what you were doing hiding behind his door then? Picking something up?"

Petra swallowed. "I thought you said you didn't know-"

"I had my suspicions, that's why I brought up the boots. You weren't as still or as quiet as you thought you were."

"But you-" Petra's cheeks had to be crimson, as she grappled with words, any words, "Why didn't you say anything? You just left…or, you could've…"

Clara's eyes softened, "Relax. It's not against the rules, after all." She placed a strong hand on Petra's shoulder, and gave her a smile of understanding, "I was curious, like I say, I had my suspicions, but I haven't told a soul and I don't plan on it."

The ginger's mouth dropped open again, "You…don't?"

A warmth entered Clara's voice, "No, I don't."

"So, you don't think that I was only promoted because…you know…"

"Petra. I was your commanding officer for a long time. I've seen your skills first hand, I helped train you. And I've seen how far you've come as a part of that squad too. I was angry to lose you as a team member, but," She sighed, "I was letting my ego and concerns about my own performance as a leader get in the way of what was best for the regiment, a regiment that you've proven yourself time and time again to be a huge asset to. I would have only been holding you back, and therefore, holding the survey corps back. It was poor leadership on my part, and I owe you an apology." She took a deep breath, and her jaw tightened, "I'm sorry."

A familiar tautness appeared in Petra's throat, and she fought to keep tears down. Clara was notoriously stubborn, and Petra didn't think she'd ever seen the woman apologise for anything before. There was something in the air this evening, some kind of emotional electricity, some kind of spiritual release or easing, or perhaps it was simply the effects of great change in action.

"It's important to me that rumours aren't spread about you. As a woman of higher rank in the military, on occasion we have to fight to be taken seriously, or to be seen as the great soldiers that we are. I would never want your hard work to be delegitimised." She took her hand away from Petra's shoulder and swigged her drink, "Besides, I've always thought it would take a person of quite some mettle to capture Levi's interests. It's an impressive feat, you deserve to show off to at least one person about it." She winked.

Tears rolled down Petra's cheeks, and she placed her cider down, and pulled Clara into an awkward hug. Baffled, Clara returned it, giving Petra a light pat on the back.

The sweetly clumsy moment was interrupted by the approaching Hannah and Jules;

"Hey! What's the big idea?"

"Yeah dude I've never waited so long for a drink before!"

Petra giggled, "Sorry! Sorry!" And passed their tankards over.

"WEYY!" A shout came from behind them, and within moments Squad Clara crowded the bar,

"GOLDILOCKS!"

The chant began, and echoed through the tavern into the frosty night.

It was unbearably bright for an early winter's day, the air replete with freezing chill, and the first town was supposed to be fully stocked. During the previous expedition, the supply points were completely replenished, and the plan for the current one was a quick stop off here before they continued south to attempt to reach Wall Maria for the first time since its fall.

But nothing ever went as intended for the scouts.

Instead they'd been deployed in a frenzy as they hit it. All of the buildings containing the supplies had been trashed: misshapen blades and gas canisters lay bent and rusting through the rubble-filled old streets. It was a disaster. Not only that, but not twenty minutes after this discovery, they were set upon by countless of the monsters bearing down from every side.

Younger scouts cowered with horses in the centre at the old town square, as every single other squad except for the medical carts took to the roofs, shouting and swearing in detritus and utter chaos.

It wasn't long until the all too familiar crunch of broken bones shattered through the air.

"Petra - with me, we'll get the three on the left." Captain Levi commanded, "Eld, Gunther, Oruo - take out the four on the right."

"Yes sir!" The squad dove immediately into action, spreading out wordlessly so they were at even points around their targets.

They moved almost as a single organism, the shifts so subtle and quick they were almost invisible to the naked eye, and in under two minutes seven steaming piles of detestable, turgid flesh lay motionless on the ground.

There wasn't time to rest as they continued around the edges of the town like a deadly murmuration of starlings, a mesmerising sight, if anyone'd had the time to watch it, which they didn't.

Petra pre-emptively sped over a roof from behind one of the beasts, cutting a giant arm clean off, freeing up space for the Captain to spin through the nape, which he did instantly after propelling himself off of his previous (now deceased) target.

Then with a sharp look, she took the high angle and the Captain the low as they jointly slashed the nape of a smaller target, killing it moments before it grabbed a cowering soldier who was sat rocking back and forth on a rooftop, traumatised.

"Get up!" The Captain yelled at the scout, "You wanna die? Get yourself back to the horses, now!"

Petra found herself being repeatedly jolted by soul-shattering screams. It was nearly impossible not to look over in their direction, not to rush to someones immediate aid. But they had to prioritise dispatch. The picture was so much bigger than the pain of any one individual. When a small enough number of titans remained she could pray all those who were screaming had survived, and she could try and patch them up best as she could.

The squad regrouped and within moments were joined by Commander Erwin, who deployed them westwards save the Captain, who he asked to remain in position to defend Hange while they set up an arrow firing cannon. The goal was to try and stop the beasts from advancing to the town square where the less experienced soldiers quailed with the carts.

Petra propelled herself alongside Eld towards a twelve-metre, when her stomach dropped. Another scream but, a scream she thoroughly recognised. A surging sob and "PLEASE!" somewhere off to her left.

It couldn't be, could it?

She dared look over, and there, a mere three streets away, crushed in a fist and metres from the jaws of a titan, was Jules.

Her body went cold and numb, she couldn't hear anything and everything seemed to drop into slow motion. She was already moving.

First street…

Eld's muffled yells distantly punctured her bubble of silence,

"Petra - what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Second street..

She drew her blades, her vision blurring with tears.

I'm coming, hold out, please hold out…

Third street…

Jules caught her eye, her face was shining wet with weeping, her lips moved but Petra couldn't make out what she was saying. A cold light bounced through the brown of her irises just as the shadow of jaws encompassed her face…and in a crunch and burst of blood, she was gone.

Petra's inhuman shriek ripped through her throat as her blades ripped through the titan's nape and she felt wholly insane as she crash-landed on the street and sprinted past the giant corpse to get to its head. She would break open its fucking jaws if she had to, if she could-

Her legs liquified as she noticed them, and then there was nothing except her kneecaps hitting the cobbled road. Her brain filled up with a fizzing, crackling noise, and the blue-black spots in her vision partially concealed the street where they lay;

…Peter…

Stefan…

…Gerd…

…

Hannah.

Strewn about the street like old scraps thrown out for the rabid dogs, rotting in pools of blood both human and titan.

She dragged her leaden limbs up and half-ran, half-stumbled to where Hannah lay, motionless, missing a leg and with deep puncture wounds decorating her chest, her once pristine white shirt now almost entirely dyed red. Wisps of her blonde hair escaping her tight bun danced in the breeze around her dark, glassy eyes, and her lips were slack.

A stuttering breath ravaged Petra's body as she turned back to look at the titan's face, the one she'd dispatched just moments ago, it's flesh already melting away from the bones of its jaw and skull, and she finally noticed the remains of trails of black smoke in the air above: an abnormal.

From between its flat-edged teeth, Jules's arm protruded, limp, stained.

"No…no…no…"

Barely a whisper, it could have been voiced by the breeze itself.

Without thinking, and unsure of the source of her energy, she ran to each of the bodies, checking their pulse, shaking their shoulders and slapping them in the face. Maybe one of them had something left, maybe they weren't as dead as they looked-

The next thing she knew a huge force had crashed into her, lifting her roughly and vigorously ejecting her from the street through the air and flinging her useless mass onto the roof.

"Petra! What the hell is wrong with you!"

Through her blurred vision she could just about make out Eld, behind him Gunther and Oruo.

Eld was still yelling, but she could only-half hear him;

"No-one gave you permission to go off on your own, you put your life in danger - you put the whole squad's-"

She wobbled from side to side and Oruo rushed to her right side, holding her up. Gunther appeared under a second later at her left, stabilising her.

The world was spinning and she barely felt herself scream;

"THEY'RE DEAD ELD!"

Before she blacked out.

—

Eld watched with fear as the energy left her and Petra's joints folded in on themselves. Luckily the other two were already holding her steady, and they lowered her gently so she was sat, leaning up against a brick chimney, and Oruo removed his cravat and started dabbing at the glistening jewels of sweat on her forehead.

Fuck. Fucking…

Eld didn't know what to do with his adrenaline. He was pacing back and forth, head turning left and right to check there were no threats in the vicinity.

It was so messed up. Petra was the last one of them he thought would ever defect like that, and yet, he knew exactly why she did it. But that didn't make it the right course of action. And he was responsible for it.

Cool, calm and collected his ass.

"Fuck!" He slapped his own hands to his head, pressing in firmly with his fingertips, like that could change the past.

"Calm down." Gunther had made his way over and put his hands firmly on Eld's shoulders, stopping him in his tracks, "Eld."

Eld stared at him, puffing air from his nose in a controlled fashion.

"We were compromised by her decision." He said flatly.

"Yes." Gunther nodded, his eyes earnest, "But we're all still alive."

"I would've thought you, of all people, would understand the gravity of Petra not following orders."

Gunther frowned and looked away, eyes scanning the devastating horizon.

"…we've got each other's backs. Even if we fuck up." He said eventually, "That's what this is about."

Eld's eyes widened a little.

"I'll fire the flare, alert the Captain-"

"No need."

Captain Levi paced stonily towards them, stopping near the edge of the roof.

He swept his gaze expressionlessly over the bloodied street.

"What happened here?"

"An abnormal sir." Gunther said.

"You took it out?" He asked.

"Petra did."

A pause. Guttural screams and crashes distantly sounded from other parts of the town.

"What squad is this?" He queried, his eyes still skating over the limp bodies.

"Squad Clara, sir."

Only then did the Captain look back at them, his eyes resting for a split second on Petra's passed out frame by the chimney, Oruo by her side, uneasy. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

"Oruo, Gunther, take her to the medical tent, then assist with any remaining targets near it. There's a clear pathway past the old church. Go. Now."

Gunther and Oruo each gave a strong nod, but even a blind man would have been able to pick up on the worry flickering underneath their resolve as they lifted her and zipped off. Eld could see it clear as day; he knew that same disquiet was reflected in his own features.

"Jinn, with me. Now that abnormal is gone and Hange's arrow cannon is working, there aren't many major threats left. We'll work round in a semi-circle at speed, hitting every target on the way back to the centre. You work distraction, I'll take them out."

Captain Levi was, as ever, unflinching in the face of great loss and trauma. Eld took some comfort in it. The bottom line was they had a job to do. Worry would have to wait.

"Yes sir." Eld immediately tailed the Captain as they launched themselves from the roof.

Petra awoke to the rough jostling of a cart. Through the blurred auburn of her eyelashes the early evening sky swam in pinks and oranges. The air was clean, crisp and fresh, her nose a little cold, and for a while she allowed her head to loll side to side with the juddering of the rolling wagon over the uneven ground. A tiredness akin to death had taken hold of her mind and limbs, and she felt blank, numb, and it took her several minutes to remember why. Then, through her brain's fog, the memories came in sickening flashes. Her breath rasped in, shaking into her chest, and once again her vision blurred with tears, and her head began its unrelenting pounding. It became clear to her then: being awake was going to be torture.

"Oh…" She sobbed, clutching at her chest with a hand, numb with cold; a blunt implement with which she could dig through her clothes and reach in to rip out her heart to stop its excruciating beating. Weakened fingers shaking and unable to complete their morbid task, gave up, and she choked on air, like a worthless fish flung from a barrel onto the hard ground, pointlessly flailing.

Should she get up? See where they were headed? Was there any point?

She should be stripped of her title as 'scout' in any regard. She was an unworthy failure. A tormenting loop of the faces of the dead forced its way into her minds eye, like a gallery of disaster.

A quiet, strangled wail escaped her and she balled onto her side, clutching her knees to her chest, letting the slime build up in her mouth and dribble across her hand. Her eyes, through streaming with tears, somehow still felt painfully dry and she sniffed, trying her best not to feel.

Wind rustled through the trees, aping the final breaths of all those lost. For a while she wept softly, clinging to the sound of the breeze, that it might connect her to them, when a quiet rumble distracted her from it. Not the rumble of the wooden wheels hitting rocks in the ground, nor the barrels of supplies knocking against one another, but the low rumble of a human voice.

She turned her head a little, looking into the wagon to see a dark, blurred silhouette.

"Maybe not." His voice came again, and she realised she hadn't heard anything of what he'd said the first time.

Achingly she dragged herself up, peeling her cheek from the wood of the wagon and came to sit, taking in Levi, who was sat, back leant again the side of the wagon, one knee up on which he balanced his arm lazily.

"So you are awake." He said, tilting his head to her.

Snivelling, she supported herself on her trembling arms and pressed her back against the back of the wagon for support. It was then she noticed that it was just the two of them, being pulled in what seemed to be one of the half-full supply wagons in the centre rank.

"There wasn't space in the medical carts for you. Too many folk too seriously busted up." He uttered, "But since you were only passed out and we used up almost all our supplies, there was enough space here. Seemed like a good enough option for now."

She stared at him emptily, then dropped her gaze to her hands, scrunching her cloak, chewing her lip. She heard him suspire heavily, then noticed a flash of white and red on his balanced arm.

"Is that…a bandage?" Her question was almost inaudible as she blinked him into focus again.

"It's nothing." He mumbled, but her breath had already begun to come more erratically. Adrenaline pulsed through her and she surged forward, feeling some frantic madness seize her brain once more, and knelt before him trying to get to his arm.

"You're hurt - you-"

He batted her hand away, "It's a scratch, it's nothing."

When she continued her frenetic attempts to get a better glimpse of his injury, her grabbed her wrists and stopped her,

"Petra. Stop. I told you, it's nothing."

She felt tears dribble off her chin onto the wood of the moving cart. His hands eased their pressure and he guided her to sit back down where she had been and came back to his own position, staring flatly at her.

She was absorbed in the texture and colour of her cloak, her fingers twiddling in the fabric when his deep voice resounded firmly;

"You can't save everyone."

A throttled sob escaped her, and she tensed her fists.

"Petra. Listen to me."

Fighting to keep herself under control, she met his gaze again, and saw a perfect example of that control. The steel of his eyes lanced her and her heart ebbed, she could see the understanding in his expression. He'd been here before.

"You did your best, that's all that can be asked of you."

Her eyes snapped wide, "Where's the squad?", then her voice grew significantly in volume, "Levi, tell me they made it-"

"They're fine." He answered calmly, "They're riding out front spotting. We're actually one of the few squads that made it out with all our members."

She sat back against the wagon again, letting the sudden burst of energy drain from her. Her head fell heavily into her chest, and she cuddled her arms and cloak around herself.

"And…you…?" Her question was muffled by her position.

"Me?"

"If you're fine, then…why are you here with me?"

He was silent for so long that she pulled her head from where it'd been hunched over into the musty smell of her cloak.

His eyes, bluer than ever in the dying light of the sun, skated to his bandaged forearm.

"It's a small cut, but Hange still had to stitch me up." He said eventually, "I don't wanna bust it open and get it infected by hard riding, or being forced into combat."

Petra knew he was lying. He'd carried on fighting with way worse injuries than a simple cut before. It must mean that there hadn't been any titans on the way back so far. He would always go where he was needed most…

She drew in a light breath, that knowledge a small tonic to her pain.

"I…" She snivelled, "I was wrong. Either way I would've been wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"It didn't matter what I did, there was no right answer. I abandoned my squad, but if I hadn't, I would have abandoned my ex-squad. But they…" Her throat tightened, tears rained, "They were already dead anyway. I couldn't reach her…I couldn't…" She sounded strangled.

"There's never a right answer. There's only what you choose to do in the moment, and you followed your gut. You went where you were needed most."

Her eyes snapped to him.

"I was insubordinate."

"Mm." He muttered, "You were. But I don't blame you for your actions."

"Eld-"

"Will come around. He knows why you did it. He might play the fool, but he isn't one."

She wiped her tears with her sleeve.

"Don't go thinking you've got out of a penalty though. At the very least I'll have to give you laps for it."

Petra simply looked back down to the wagon's floor.

"Here." He held out a canteen of water and his handkerchief, "Take it."

She didn't move.

"Petra…"

Hearing the gentleness creep into his voice, she relented, and shakily took the items and unscrewed the canteen's cap. Wordlessly, she raised it to her lips, some water trickling from the corners of her mouth.

He sat back, gazing up at the sky, neutral once again.

A thought struck her like a bolt of lightening, if at least one of them had made it, then maybe-

"Clara?" She asked quickly, "I - I didn't see her when I came to the scene, maybe there's a chance she-"

Levi looked at her. He shook his head lightly.

"Oh." She dropped the canteen, water glugging out of it onto the wood. Slowly, Levi leant forward to take it, and capped it back up.

The tears came again, splattering onto her legs, some of them forming little droplets on the leather of the harness stretching across her knees.

For some minutes the sound of the rattling wagon and pebbles being scattered by the wheels permeated. She'd lost friends before, many times. Every single member of her training year that graduated together and chose the scouts was gone, except Oruo. Her first bunk mate Rosa, gone after only two expeditions. That was years ago now, but the losses never got easier to bear, and it'd been a while since she'd lost any close friends to the titans. It had gotten to the point where, if she were being honest with herself, she'd trusted that she'd never lose anyone again, they were all so skilled, they'd survived so many times that they'd surely always come back. Always. But she was a naïve optimist, and now she was paying for it. Their faces rattled around her brain until she felt sick. Allowing the sharp, clean air to ease her a little, she turned her attention back to her Captain.

"You've lost friends like this." Her honey-gold eyes were swimming with sorrow as she watched him for a response.

"Yes." His voice was bland, "You'd be hard pressed to find a scout who hasn't lost someone close to them to titans." He exhaled strongly through his nose, then watched as some passing birds flew overhead. Petra watched them too.

"You miss them."

"Mm." He replied, "I left them them, in a storm. It was our first expedition, and a titan ambushed them. They weren't prepared, none of them saw it coming. By the time I got back there, they were gone."

"Isabel, and Farlan…" She mumbled and he looked at her curiously. "You gave me a bottle of eucalyptus oil. It had her name on it."

A light of recognition flitted through his eyes.

"Hange told me…" She wiped her streaming nose with his handkerchief, "That they came with you from the underground."

He didn't respond, simply gazed at the distant trees whizzing by and faraway scouts on horseback galloping onwards.

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that must've been like for you. To lose the people who understand- who understand you most." The words were struggling out of her as her tempest of emotions blustered around inside. She dabbed her eyes with the sodden handkerchief.

He met her gaze again, "People can understand each other in many different ways."

She matched his look, her nose red, "Yes. That's true."

"It's important that you don't regret what happened today. If you do, it will only dull your future decisions. It'll make it harder for you to survive. And you can't help anyone when you're dead."

The cart hit a rock and jostled them roughly.

"I don't know if I agree with that."

"Huh?"

"I think they do help me. Even though they've gone, I still fight for them." She took in the rolling clouds, lit up in golds;

"I remember every single scout I've worked with who's passed on. There are more of them now of course…" She hesitated, fighting back the wave of feeling, "A lot more. And maybe this is completely stupid but I…I feel them with me, encouraging me to keep going. I've never told anyone this before…but…sometimes I think I can see their faces at night reflected in my bedroom window when I write letters home. Sometimes…" She stopped, swallowing it back, but the tears still came anyway, "Sometimes I talk to them. I tell them I'm sorry. Sometimes I ask them questions. Simple things you know, nothings, what should I buy from the market today? What would you do about this? Or anything. And I can hear them listening, guiding me." She snivelled, then forced a smile, "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You probably think it's completely moronic. I mean, dead is dead, right?"

"It's not moronic to honour the fallen however you see fit." He said, "How is anyone to know where the dead go? We all have our opinions but…" He paused, "There's no right answer. There's no answer at all. To some people, that's lonely, to others, it's comforting. You take what you can, whatever helps you to get by."

She watched his face intently as the tears dried cold in their place on her cheeks. He was full of so much quiet wisdom, and she was amazed how unjudgemental he was at her confession. Even after a year of knowing him, he could still surprise her. For a moment she wished the world could see this side of him, then she wondered if the dead could.

"How…" She trailed off, wringing his handkerchief in her hands, drawing courage, calmness from it, "…how do you remember Isabel and Farlan? Do you talk to them?"

He drew a hand around his face as though in thought, then removed it,

"They come to me at night." He said evenly.

"Oh."

She remembered that he barely slept, of his nightmares. To be so relentlessly plagued while at rest…no wonder he was always so tired.

"But…" He muttered, "I kept some things that belonged to them. That bottle of Isabel's. Farlan's knife. We didn't have shit down there, so I felt like I couldn't throw away the little that they did have."

Petra's heart was stinging, its bruises irritating each beat. Perhaps he didn't want to admit to her what she suspected, that that wasn't the only reason he kept their things: that really, hidden deep down, a part of him was sentimental.

"That and. And the stars remind me of them." He swallowed, staring down into the cart.

For a moment she watched him, waiting to see if he would say any more, but he continued to stare flatly at the wood, mute.

"That's…beautiful." She smiled, "Thank you Levi."

"For what?"

"For talking to me."

He reached out with a hand and placed it over hers, his skin rough, but warm. In the distance Wall Rose appeared, illuminated by the final wisps of sunlight, the long grey strip of brick growing greater with each turn of the wagon's wheel.

Chapter 17: A Stable Relationship (mini chapter)

Chapter Text

The mare's soft muzzle lightly tickled Levi's hand as she ate. The late harvest had been poor, so she had to make do with some oats. Levi would much rather have treated her to an apple for all her recent hard work; apples were her favourite. His too, if he had to pick.

With his free hand he petted her softly, and she nickered a little, her hot breath snorting into his hand as she hoovered up every last oat.

"That's your lot."

She whinnied defiantly.

"Nothing I can do. We're all out."

He sometimes came down to see her at night like this when he couldn't sleep. She was often awake herself, and seemed to appreciate the company; plus it was nice to get out of his sleepless room, even if it was cold in the stables.

The past week though, he'd been coming down to see her every single night. Any time the scouts returned from an expedition was a sombre affair, but this time the regiment's casualties were especially catastrophic: almost forty percent of all current serving scouts were gone, and the survivors felt it with every breath in, as though the recent losses were infused into the air itself. The compound was emptier than it had been in years. It was like a bad dream.

Levi's own squad, who, outside of drills were usually tiresomely chatty and constantly quipping at one another, instead sauntered quietly around the barracks. They hadn't even been eating together, the fire in the common room hearth was a pile of dry ash, and if Levi wasn't so diligent about cleanliness, the board games leaderboard would have been covered in several inches of dust.

…

Then there was Petra…

Levi's chest constricted and ached. Yes. Since they'd got back it'd been this way.

She'd been avoiding everyone outside of training, and they really only saw her when she came to fetch a cup of tea or a bread roll from the kitchenette. During drills she was diligent, focused and stronger than ever, but the gentleness and friendliness had vanished from her demeanour, in its place, silence. She'd made it clear to every one of them that she needed some space and time to grieve, but that didn't make it easy to be around, and Levi hated feeling helpless.

On the first evening after their return, concern had awashed the faces of the four men when Gunther informed them that he'd heard her weeping in her room as he passed it. Levi'd heard it too. When he heard it again on the second night, he'd knocked on her door and asked if he could come in, but she fell silent at his question, and after five minutes waiting in vain for a response, he walked away.

It worried him, and the winter nights were longer and darker without the squad's spark, but even sparks needed time to mourn.

He exhaled, stroking his horse's muzzle.

"Any ideas?" He asked her, but she only blinked her long black eyelashes in response.

"Oh that's right…you're a horse." He said wryly.

A thought struck him. The muscles in his arm tensed up with his idea, and in a heartbeat he was out of the stables and outside Petra's bedroom door rapping.

"Petra." He said lowly, and heard her snivel, and fall silent again.

He took a breath in, then with an instant twist of the doorknob he blew in from the hallway as she sat up messily from under her covers.

"Get up."

She stared emptily at him from her bed. She looked smaller than usual, her eyes puffy and red, her hair a mess.

"Get your coat. You're coming with me."

She swallowed, "Bu-"

"Hurry up." He crossed his arms, "Don't make me drag you out of here."

Baffled and tired, she nodded and extracted herself from the blankets. She'd taken to wearing his grey long-sleeve to bed over some basic pyjama bottoms, and he couldn't help but pick out the shape of her figure in it, then mentally chastised himself. Even now, even sleep deprived and pale from her melancholy, she was still the most breathtaking person he'd ever seen…but, in this exact moment, those kinds of thoughts were hardly appropriate.

Slowly she plucked her long military coat from where it hung on the wall, and wrapped the dark green wool around herself.

"Where are we going?" She asked in a small voice, pulling on her boots.

"You'll see."

The walk over was quiet, and though he didn't look at her, he could feel her round eyes intermittently glancing at him.

"The stables…?" Her question sounded quietly as they approached.

"Mm." He replied as they came to a stop at the entrance, "Saddle up. We're going for a night ride."

Levi absorbed her bewildered expression as she blinked, and wiped her still-wet eyes with her sleeve. He thought she might say something, but instead she simply wandered inside to fetch her horse's saddle. He continued to watch her small frame in the dim light as she prepared her horse. She spoke to the grey mare in soft tones, and he thought he saw some glitter return to her eyes. Immediately he felt lighter. It seemed to him that, no matter how despondent she became, she would never fully be able to conceal her warmth and brightness, because it was hardwired into her.

His grey eyes then grazed the dirt at his feet.

That her sadness had been on his mind constantly, that he would go out of his way to try and make her feel better…that the smallest hint that this trip to the stables had already begun to distract her from her burdens, made him feel almost weightless…

Everyone was on their own path, with their own shit to process. This was what being a scout entailed, they all knew it; they all had to deal with constant loss and grief. She wasn't special in that regard, except…

…standing here in the stables she was sad and bright and beautiful, and her fire, no matter how dim, lit him up inside. All he really wanted was to be close to her, and with each day he was being pulled ever further down this track, falling deeper-

"Levi? Are you coming too?"

He was grateful that her question snapped him out of his reverie. There were some things that, in spite of it all, he still didn't quite feel he was ready to admit to himself, at least with words. He wasn't sure he'd ever say such things out loud, and certainly not to her.

"Mm." He grunted in response to her, then busied himself with his own horse.

They lead their horses out into the night and mounted them, Petra shivering a little;

"So…where to Captain?" She inquired.

"Doesn't really matter." He replied, then set his horse galloping.

She followed on some feet behind as he raced through the dark fields under the vast night sky.

"Hey! Wait up!" He heard her shout then laugh as she feebly attempted to overtake him.

He smiled to himself, pleased to have heard her laugh again.

"If you can't catch up that's on you." He fired back, grey eyes flickering in challenge, and saw that he'd stoked her fire in response, and she passed him with a grin as they leapt over a fence into the field of long grass beyond, hooves clattering against the cold ground.

Onwards they raced in playful contest, wind in their hair and fresh air in their lungs, with only one another for company, and the chandeliers of twinkling stars watching from above.

Chapter 18: Intruders

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

December

It crept up on Petra at random throughout the day, every day. Screaming, her own, blowing out her ear drums into an omnipresent ringing, the cold, the dark shadow enshrouding Julia's face, her lips forming quiet, unintelligible words. Each time she tried to figure them out they evaded her, lost to the flashes and disfigured faces of the events that had followed.

"Go now…" she'd said, or perhaps, "Hannah is…"

How could they be so different from one another?

The shapes made by Julia's lips became ever-scrambled whenever she looked back for them, and her continual conscious cycling around them gave her a throbbing headache. She had an unrelenting desire to immediately figure them out before the memory mangled further and at the same time smash her head against the nearest brick wall to escape the millions of rushing thoughts that accompanied the search for an answer.

Deep down she knew that it might be safer and easier to give up trying to work them out. Maybe her final words were something of Jules's that Petra didn't deserve to have.

"Hey…Eld?"

Her voice sounded softly across the locker room where they were removing their gear ready for lunch.

"Ha?" The blonde jolted, surprised to hear her speak.

Though she'd slowly been feeling more like herself, Petra sensed how her recent quietness had disturbed her squad mates. When she did say anything, they smiled with an enthusiasm that one might normally reserve for a toddler taking their first steps. It was a little patronising, and at times she felt her combative side rearing its ugly head, but she always thought better of it. They were her friends, they only hoped that she would recover.

"Do you mind if…can we chat?"

Eld blinked, then watched her evenly as he placed his blade boxes on the ground, "Surething small fry, what's up?"

Oruo and Gunther had frozen mid-unbuckling of their harnesses and were staring at the pair.

Petra scowled at them,

"Let's go to the mess hall."

The mess hall wasn't much better. Though they'd chosen a corner spot, Petra had sat with her back to the wall facing into the whole room, from which Oruo and Gunther's proximity was beyond distracting. Of course they'd picked a spot only two tables further into the room. Gunther, despite the fact he was facing away, kept turning over his shoulder to look at them, and from the opposite side of the table, Oruo was weaving his head back and forth trying to read her lips. She bit back a sigh.

"What's up?"

Eld's question and posture was easy as usual; there was a candidness nestled in his brown eyes. He ignored his plate of food.

Petra nursed her rapidly cooling cup of coffee between her hands,

"I need to apologise to you. Properly."

He raised his chin ever so slightly in interest.

Petra bit her lip, suddenly feeling quite small. She forced herself to keep eye contact with him.

"That day…I'm sorry that I disobeyed your orders. I need you to know that I respect your authority, and I never wanted to undermine you." She pressed her lips together nervously, squeezing her hands around the cup,

"I trust you with my life, and I hate that I let you and the squad down, but…if I could go back and do it all again…I know I would do the exact same thing."

Wintry daylight filtered in from the high, arch-top windows of the mess hall, brightly lighting Eld who graced the table like a pensive statue: chin now in hand, brows furrowed, eyes down. Background chatter and clattering of the room filtered through as she waited for him to respond. Just at the point when his silence had drawn on uncomfortably and Petra itched to speak further, Eld gave her a straight look,

"I get it."

"Y-you do?"

"Yeah, I do. Our job isn't easy. You gotta make spur of the moment decisions. You trusted us to be able to hold our own, and you went where you were needed more. It's exactly something that the Captain would have done."

Startled, Petra pushed away the sparkle in her heart that burst from him comparing her to Levi in the battlefield, and leant in a little,

"You're not mad…?"

"Of course I'm mad." He rebutted immediately, "It was a stupid, reckless thing that you did, which not only put our lives in danger, but yours as well. All it would've taken was one unpredictable move from that thing and you'd've been done for. I know you're skilled, but frankly I think that you were insanely lucky that none of us got hurt. This team only works with all of us together Petra. Like life, it's all about balance. One of us dies, we're off kilter."

Petra sucked air in. A wavering took hold of her chest, but she didn't want to cry any more.

"I didn't have any other choice. I had to-"

"Hey." He interrupted, gentleness newly kindling in his gaze, "The long and short of it is we care about you. We're family, and we don't want to lose you. It was terrifying watching you throw yourself at that monster without a second thought, blinded by rage and fear. I mean, how would you react if one of us had done the same?"

Cold coffee rippled slightly in her cup between her weak hands. She swallowed.

"You're completely right. I'd hate it."

He slightly smiled, "You'd've blown your tiny ginger top and you know it."

"It's just that…if I hadn't tried to save them I never would've been able to forgive myself. It's the one thing about it that's keeping me going."

Eld exhaled heavily, one hand scratching the back of his head,

"Look half-pint, I'd be lying if I said I'd always followed orders to the letter. When you get out there, sometimes it's just a free for all. You can only plan so much. That said, we're a squad for a reason. There were plenty of other soldiers that you didn't stop to help earlier in the mission, others that were in the exact same position as squad Clara."

Petra dropped her head, her eyes masked by a wall of her hair, that it might absorb some of her torment.

"But - like I said - I get it." He affirmed, "You stopped because you recognised a voice. You're only human; you hear someone you love in pain, you're gonna look up to see what's wrong, then do what you can to help."

A single tear trailed down Petra's cheek and she wiped it away with her fingertips.

"And I couldn't."

A moment passed before his words travelled softly across the table.

"You can't think like that. It's like the Captain says, sometimes we make judgement calls that are wrong; but no-one expects us to be psychic. You did everything you could."

She sniffled, eventually bringing herself to look back at him,

"I would have done the same for you or Gunther or Oruo. If it was any of you - I mean, if any of you were in danger…"

She tailed off, noting the gravity that suddenly befell him.

"I suppose you'll find out soon enough, it's already making the rounds."

Petra furrowed her brow curiously.

He briefly pressed his lips together, considering, "Sometimes these things go beyond us."

"…what do you mean?"

"I said I was mad, but the truth is it's not you I'm mad at anymore. I forgave you before the expedition was even done - though I do appreciate you apologising, so thank you. I can see you replaying it over and over, and I think you should know that when I say 'you did everything you could', I mean it. Those squads were doomed from the moment we set off through the gates."

Petra watched keenly as tension rippled through his features. It was an anomaly to see Eld be so uncomfortable when they were within the walls. He shifted a little on the bench.

"There's more to what happened than simply that we were wildly unlucky on that expedition. I heard through the grapevine that there's going to be an inquiry into some of the blade boxes the squads used. There are rumours that several squad leaders went against orders, and took the new, lighter boxes out on expedition, even though they were still under evaluation."

Petra's eyes widened, "What?"

"Do you remember a few months ago when we were asked to trial the new ones? We must've got a good batch because I don't recall us having any problems with them. Much lighter than before, and I seem to remember we improved our lap time tenfold. Didn't write anything bad about it on my evaluation form anyway."

Eld's voice faded into the background and suddenly Petra was cowering in her bra behind Levi's office door again, holding up his grey shirt as a kind of shield, Clara's voice ringing from the other side of the wood:

"My squad has been having issues with the newly issued blade boxes…"

"…they've been complaining of defects in their construction…"

"…some of them are having issues removing the blad-"

Air rushed into her lungs and words came pelting from her mouth,

"Blades - they couldn't get - they couldn't get their blades out in time - to fight…" She fumbled.

"Yeah. That was the main issue…wait - did you know about this?" He quirked a brow.

"I heard…" She swallowed, "Clara mentioned it once. They were meant to be reviewing them because they sometimes had trouble properly removing them from the boxes."

Heart juddering, she replayed the final, bloody picture of squad Clara, imagining her friends at critical moments, blades hitching on nicks in the steel of the boxes, too slow for the giant hands and fingernails which crushed them and devastatingly unable to save themselves. It was beyond awful.

"Why…why would anyone take them out - if they were defective?"

"That's what the inquiry is about." Eld uttered, face pinched, "No-one's really sure. Not to mention that it shouldn't have even been possible. Section Commander Hange seems to think it was just a mistake, that the boxes somehow got mixed up in one of the storage sheds, and whoever was meant to check them out that morning didn't realise, or didn't look properly, but the Commander isn't so sure."

Petra blinked, "Commander Erwin suspects foul play?"

"Not foul play. I'm just going off what I've heard but…he thinks that some of Squad leaders deliberately chose to take out the newer design, because they're lighter and easier to move with in general. I guess it's possible that some scout's new gear wasn't as 'defective' as others - whatever that means - so they didn't think it would be a problem." He sighed, "The thing is, as many as five squads left that day with the new design, and not all of those units kept their gear in the same shed. Which leads me to believe that both explanations could be true."

"You're saying that some squads deliberately took the defective gear, and some others didn't realise that they had until they were already out the gate?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"But if they were still being evaluated, they shouldn't have been able to check out the defective models at all."

"Yeah, like I say, all that gear should've still been in repairs. It's crazy that it wasn't."

Petra suddenly noticed that her breath was ragged.

"It shouldn't - we shouldn't- why didn't they say something? Why didn't we turn back? Once they deployed it they would have realised, and we could've turned back."

"I agree. But we wouldn't have. Think about it. Even if that problem was made clear to command, you know we wouldn't have."

Petra's mouth fell open. She hated that Eld was right. With all the planning and money that went into each expedition, there was no way that they would've turned back even if the Commander had been made aware of the error, because there was still a chance that they'd make progress, and there was still a chance that they'd all survive. But that gamble didn't pay off. Either way, her friends were going to die that fateful day.

She stared at him, slack-jawed, and he returned the look with a concerned one of his own.

"What do we do now?" She asked quietly.

"There's nothing we can do, except wait for the result of the inquiry."

Her hands were shaking, and she was chewing her lip with anxious ferocity.

"Petra, I only told you because I thought it was better that you knew. You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened. None of it is your fault."

Petra opened her mouth to respond when a loud popping crack struck the air and a high, latticed window splintered.

"It's your fault!" Came an unholy shriek.

Between the mess hall's open double doors stood a woman, dressed in civilian clothes, gun still smoking in her hand. Beside her was a man, also armed with a short, single barrelled shot gun, also in civilian clothes.

In an instant, the once casually-dining soldiers erupted in pandemonium, scrambling for cover.

Crack. Crack.

Shots rang through the air between the clamouring scouts, who were ducking under the tables to try and evade them, Petra and Eld included.

"Cowards!" The male intruder spat, charging into the room, blindly waving the gun around, "Fuck you! Fuck every scout bastard - you're as guilty as the titans you claim to slay."

"Give him back!" Shrieked the woman. From beneath the mess hall table, Petra watched the shining mechanism click as the woman reloaded the gun with a barrel on her belt, "You took my baby away!" She fired a shot haphazardly into a wall.

"They're drunk." Eld's voice came lowly and quickly from beside her under the thick wood. "Can you hear? They're slurring."

"Then they should be easy to catch off guard." She breathed back.

"Not at all - It means they're completely unpredictable. It means we need to be more careful."

Petra swallowed. Maria, he was right, and she wasn't focusing properly.

"Damn it," Eld breathed, "This would be so much easier if we were equipped with ODM."

Petra bit her lip. Maybe that was why the attackers'd picked lunchtime, because they knew the scouts were less likely to be geared up. Chest rattling, her eyes darted around the fraught scene.

What would Levi do?

Her whisper was barely audible over her hammering heart,

"It takes them a second to reload those things. If we can somehow distract-"

Crack.

A howl pierced the air and from the opposite corner of the hall Henning was clutching his left arm as he stumbled towards the wall and behind the serving counter, face contorted like a church gargoyle. Rather than follow him however, the intruders continued firing off random shots aimlessly in a manic spree.

Think. Levi would think.

"Gunther." Eld's breath was a little laboured and he gestured with his head in their squad mates' direction, and she saw the pair of them similarly crouched under their table not too far away, two sets of beady, shining eyes boring into them. Gunther performed a series of quick, focused gestures with his hands, and Eld responded with a nod.

"Diversion?" Petra asked quickly.

"Yep, Now. Go- Go!"

In unison the four members of Levi's squad sprang out from their temporary hideaways. Petra and Oruo jumped up on top of the mess hall tables and ran towards the attackers, leaping over the gaps, kicking abandoned trays of food and waving their arms.

"Come get me asshole!" Oruo bayed, pelting along a table towards the man, while Petra, running parallel to him, yelled at the woman;

"Hey lady! Over here!"

The maniacal woman snapped to her, tearful brown eyes narrowing as she raised her gun up to Petra's impending frame. The click sounded, too late though, for the ginger had swiftly stooped and grabbed a half-full soup bowl as she ran, flinging it into the line of fire. Porcelain and cold broth exploded into fragments and droplets as the bullet smashed into it, providing Petra with enough cover to vault off the table while Eld appeared from seemingly nowhere to tackle the woman from behind, and she fell easily to the ground, gun skittering away in circles across the stone paved floor.

Eld took off after the gun, and at the speed of light, Petra rolled the intruder onto her front with a boot, then twisted her arms against her back almost to the point of breaking, pinning her to the ground. The move came to her as naturally as breathing. Blowing an errant strand of hair from her eyes, Petra looked up to the remaining scene.

First she spotted Eld, retrieved gun in hand. Following his eye-line she saw Oruo, who was holding the other intruder's wrist directly above his head, unloaded barrel uselessly pointed at the ceiling, Gunther behind the stranger, clamping his free hand against his side and restricting any further movement. Both Gunther and the male intruder were covered in what appeared to be the 'dish of the day', swede stew, and Petra noted the large cooking pot had been flung from the serving counter. She smiled to herself, it seemed they all had the same idea.

Slowly, cowering scouts began to emerge from their hiding places, and Gunther took a firm hold of his captive, Oruo removing the gun from the man's weakened grasp.

"Hey! Petra - you ok?" Nifa jogged over to her where she was half-knelt pressing the writhing woman into the ground.

"Fine thanks." Her voice came out a little shakier than she was expecting, and her senses were heightened by pulsing adrenaline.

"What in Sina was that about huh?" Nifa feigned an upbeat spirit, but her voice shook as much as Petra's.

From beneath her knee Petra felt a trembling, and realised the unknown woman was crying and mumbling to herself,

"gone…gone…gone…"

A single bead of sweat gleamed on Nifa's temple,

"Thank the goddesses for your squad. We're lucky no-one was seriously hurt, or worse."

"Henning?" Petra inquired.

"I saw Nanaba and Tomas crawl over to him before - they were nearby. It looked like the bullet only nicked him, so he should be alright. He just needs to visit the medical wing."

"Thank the walls."

"Back! Smith….give him…give him back…Smith…"

Through her unkempt black hair the woman's voice scratched in frenetic, though barely audible murmurings.

"Give him back…Erwin Smith is a murderer…"

Petra's eyes widened. She snapped a look to Nifa, whose wide golden eyes stared back at her, perplexed.

"Nifa." She said hurriedly, "Can you take her?"

Nifa blinked, "Of course I can but what-"

"Thank you. I just have to- I'll be right back."

The next thing she knew she was speeding through the double doors into the winter air, to the hectic courtyard, heart still thundering.

Erwin Smith…is a murderer…

What if there were more than two attackers? What if their main goal was the Commander, and they'd split up across the compound to find him? If that were the case, then the scouts in the mess hall weren't the only ones in danger…

Around the stone well at the centre of the courtyard, tan jackets swarmed in a frenzy, but not one she recognised among them, until-

"Petra!"

About fifty metres away to her left, underneath the large stone arch entrance to the compound, Hange beckoned her over. They sat astride their brown steed, Moblit by their side on his own horse and the pair were both rapidly instructing other mounted officers off in different directions.

Moblit was white as a sheet and gave her a weak smile as she dashed towards them. In stark contrast Hange looked their regular insane mix of dishevelled, energetic focus, and was chattering at speed, preoccupied with the soldiers rushing around the square. When Petra drew near enough, their eyes flicked back to her and their brow furrowed,

"I heard the shots. Are you alright my dear? Is anyone hurt? You look awful pale."

"We're all fine but - what's going on - did they take the lab?"

"Thankfully not, but they were in the office block. We left as soon as we heard the commotion down the hall, and a few of us managed to take them down, Erwin included. We're still not sure how many of them there are in total though - according to the scouts stationed at the entrance here, there could be as many as ten or more targeting different areas of the grounds. Erwin is heading up a search party as we speak. I'm assuming that you're out here because the mess hall intruders have been apprehended?"

"Yes, they were incapacitated when I left, and I overheard Eld saying he was going for spare rope to tie them up."

"Good. I'll have him throw them alongside the rest."

Hange motioned with their head to a nearby wall, where four people Petra didn't recognise were sat wriggling, all in civilian clothes and all bound tightly in ropes.

"It's certainly a pre-planned hit." They continued, light from the midday sun bouncing off their goggles and obscuring their eyes, "Although, the perpetrators are evidently not professionals, the way they're going about it I'd say looks totally random."

"Right. It sounded like the pair who attacked us in the mess hall were drunk."

"Drunk you say?" Their voice raised several octaves and they lifted their goggles revealing their large brown eyes.

From the corner of her eye Petra saw Moblit miraculously pale further.

"Well, isn't that fascinating and concerning in equal measure! That would certainly explain their atrocious reflexes."

"Section Commander, Captain Levi-"

They snapped from their energetic pondering and were immediately serious once more, searching her with their large, studious eyes.

"So Levi wasn't in the mess hall with you?"

"N-no…I thought he was in his office."

"The office building has already been evacuated," They glanced at Moblit, "And I haven't seen him so far. Have you?"

"No Section Commander." Moblit replied with a frown.

"No matter." They replied, pulling their goggles back on, "Levi's always been good at getting himself out of sticky situations, and with Erwin's search parties being deployed, I'm certain we'll find him in no time."

Moblit nodded, then looked at Petra squarely, "He sometimes visits the stables at lunch, isn't that right? You could try there."

Petra sucked in a breath. Yes. Sometimes Levi went to the stables to give his horse an apple over the break. But something wasn't right, down to her very bones she felt like something wasn't right. It was that exact feeling that had propelled her away from her friends in the mess hall the second there was any semblance of safety there.

"I'll check the office building." She said resolutely, turning and sprinting from the scientist and their pallid assistant.

"It's been evacuated! Petra! It's empty!" She heard Moblit cry over the pattering of boots on the cobbles.

For some reason, she knew he was wrong.

"Calm down."

It wasn't the first time Levi had stared down the barrel of a gun wielded by a lunatic in a dark, windowless corridor, but being in the position once more he realised he really didn't miss it. His jaw twitched as the thin-haired drunk opposite him spluttered and wailed,

"You know where he is!"

Levi's voice was low and measured,

"And what would killing him achieve exactly?"

"Don't get smart with me!"

The man burst out, though the waver in his voice unearthed his true nature. This man was not a born killer. Drunk: yes, distraught: clearly, and under the influence of those factors people often made terrible, foolish decisions, but Levi could read this man down to the street he likely grew up on, his favourite ale at the tavern. And this man had lost a child.

Orphan. Widow or widower. There were words for that kind of loss, but there was no word for a parent losing a kid.

Levi's grey eyes watched warily as the man's face contorted like a sad theatre mask, his free hand now grappling at the roots of his receding hair, the symptoms of the worst day of his life gushing from him like a septic river ready to engulf any light that surrounded. Levi's nerves stung in primal recognition of such grief. When the waves of rageful sadness came, they could wash away your senses completely. Confusion and the desire to drag the world down with you soon followed. It was pitiable.

"My d-daughter - my little girl - you were meant to keep her safe!" He wailed, smashing his palm to his head over and over, almost as though he were talking to himself. Levi eyed the gun in the other hand as it loosened in the man's grasp, faintly gleaming in the light of the dim torch. But the man's black eyes were quickly on him again,

"You, you-" The stranger barked, "I know who you are. I've seen you in the papers."

Keeping eye contact and while holding up a hand to the man to try and ease him a little, Levi mapped out the corridor in his mind, seeking anything useable in his environment, anything that might further loosen the grip on the gun. Door frames, wall torches, the long rug, or perhaps even the nearby stairwell…

"Yeah. I'm in the papers. Sometimes." He said evenly.

"It is you. 'Humanity's strongest' they call ya - is that right?"

"You know personally, I'm not a fan of the title."

Just his luck. Levi had already taken two of these intruders out, the ones that had stormed the back entrance of the office block. He'd singlehandedly-manhandled them out the back door, the pair crying in pain from the way he'd twisted and nearly broken their arms, then passed them and their weapons off to some low-ranking scouts who just so happened to have appeared after hearing the commotion. He only came back inside to do a final sweep of the building for stragglers, and to see if he could find Erwin. He wasn't expecting to find another one with a gun.

"'Humanity's Strongest' huh? Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way." The man tightened his grip on the gun again and Levi grit his teeth.

"That so? What's the easy way?"

"You tell me where Erwin Smith is."

"The hard way?" Levi's eyes darted around their surroundings.

"I kill you, then I find Erwin Smith on my own."

Levi exhaled steadily;

"Neither killing me or Erwin will bring your daughter back."

The man choked out a sob, "You don't know what you're talking about! Erwin Smith knew! He made my baby girl ride to her death with faulty gear! He knew!"

With a bang the gun went off, bullet whizzing past Levi's right shoulder. A blast rang out as it impacted the wall, followed by what sounded like a section of the stone crumbling away. In the commotion Levi blazed forward, trying to close some of the distance between them, but the stranger had already rapidly reloaded his gun with the mechanism on his belt, and now held it pointing shakily at Levi's face, stopping him in his tracks.

Shit.

"If you're so strong then why didn't you save her! I should just kill you right now!"

Levi opened his mouth to respond, but a muted thud stopped him. Behind the man, a solitary soldier's boot had made contact with the ground, its top half flopped over weakly as the two men momentarily stared at it. Extraordinary instincts kicking in, Levi jumped, just as the long, dusty old rug beneath them was yanked back seemingly from nowhere.

He landed as the stranger stumbled backwards, off-balance, and a flash of red hair appeared from the nearby stairwell entrance. The next thing he knew, Petra had crushed her arms around the man from behind, one hand restricting his gun-wielding arm against his side and pointed downwards to the floor, the other brandishing a sharp blade against his neck. She was only wearing one boot.

"Captain! Are you injured?"

He could see her struggling with the sheer size difference between herself and the intruder. There was no way she could hold that position for very long before she was overpowered. Jaw clenched, he made to come towards them-

"I need you to go sir!" She yelled, trying to tighten her grip on the larger man. Her blade's tip had nicked his neck, and a small droplet of blood formed, "Get out of here! Go!"

"Petra, you-"

With an ungodly roar the stranger elbowed Petra in the stomach, escaping her grasp and knocking the knife from her hand. Levi ducked as the gun went off once more and raced for the knife. Petra was winded and doubled over, and Levi pushed her to the ground out of his way and the potential line of fire as he thrust the man's gun-holding arm over his head and against the doorframe to the broom closet, strongly pinning it in place with the knife through the man's sleeve.

Still dazed from the speed of events, and reflexes slowed greatly by the alcohol, the stranger simply gawped as Levi snatched the gun from his pinned up hand and struck him once on the head with the butt of it, knocking him out cold.

The intruder was now unconscious but still half hanging up from where his wrist had been fastened to the wooden doorframe. A sad sight. Levi removed the knife and the limp body dropped to the ground.

A surge of anger flooded through him.

"Captain-"

"The damn hell do you think you were doing?" He spat as she pulled herself to her feet, "The situation was under control."

Her expression flipped, round eyes narrowing, brow furrowing and jaw tightening;

"With all due respect sir, that's not what it sounded like from where I was standing."

"I was about to disarm him."

"He shot at you!" She shouted, fists tightly balled at her sides.

Clacking boots sounded as several rookie scouts ascended the stairwell, concern etched onto their faces. Levi gave them a cursory scan before spearing Petra with his icy gaze once more,

"You shouldn't be here at all. Where's the squad?"

"Everyone's safe in the mess hall." She combatted, not dropping his eye-line.

Electricity sizzled between them in silence for a few seconds.

One of the rookie scouts cleared her throat,

"Um…Captain Levi? Can we assist with anything?"

"Who sent you?"

"XO Moblit Berner told us to sweep this building sir." The girl replied, "We'd already done a search but he said there might be a scout or two still in here after all."

Petra's eyes widened a touch and she glanced at the young scout.

"Your first search must've been thorough then." Levi growled acidly, and the small group of rookies paled. "Any more of them?"

"Commander Erwin has rounded up all the intruders now Captain. They're roped up at the entrance to to grounds."

Levi nodded, then regarded the limp body of the man he'd bested, "Tie this one up and take him outside. And find somewhere to put this." He chucked the empty gun in their direction, and a weedy, freckled brat nervously caught it. "It's Erwin's problem now."

"Y-yes sir! Right away sir!" The young cadet voiced anxiously, waving the soldiers behind her to assist with carrying away the unconscious man. As they busied themselves, Petra stared at Levi, flames licking around her golden-orange irises.

They remained eye to eye as the group of young cadets descended the stairs, a couple of them looking back as they declined, curious.

"He would've killed you." She said matter-of-factly.

"You think I'd've let him?" He replied firmly.

"You were unarmed and alone." She rebutted, "You're not invincible Levi. The scouts need you."

A glimmer flashed through her eyes, and for a split second she seemed almost tearful.

"As I said. It was under control. I might've expected such reckless behaviour from Oruo, but I never had you pegged as a moron Ral."

"Excuse me?!" Her temper was flaring up once more. It was like he'd thrown a full glass of whiskey at a fireplace.

"You didn't think it through at all. He easily overpowered you."

"If you had just left as I asked, I wouldn't have needed to hold him for-"

"If I'd left he would have shot you."

She took a furious pace towards him so they stood nearly nose to nose.

"Better me than you, Captain."

"That what you think is it?"

Her eyes narrowed, "As Eld would say sir, it's a 'no-brainer.'"

He spoke quietly, viciously,

"You put yourself in unnecessary danger. You took a dumbass risk, and you're damn lucky it paid off, that's all."

Petra rapidly reddened, "That's not-" Then cut herself off with an angry growl, "You couldn't have known what was going to happen - this wasn't a titan sir, it was a man-"

"Exactly. I can't afford to have one of my best soldiers taken out by a random drunk. I thought I taught you better than to throw yourself into a situation unprepared. I told you to think before you act."

"I was thinking!" She raged, "You don't have to always do everything alone Levi! Why won't you let me help you-"

"Fine then, tell me - what exactly was your plan? Provide an escape route for me, then what? Take down a gun slinging alcoholic over twice your size with a single switchblade?"

"He was twice your size too - at least I had a weapon-"

"He would've killed you Petra, the second I was out the damn door you'd be dead, and for what?"

"I was just doing my job sir."

"Your job is taking out titans, not dying for me in a dark hallway."

"It's both!"

Levi wasn't sure who moved in first, only that the speed at which their mouths crashed into each other was somewhat painful. Blood coursed through them at a blistering pace as their hungry hands eagerly caressed one another, and Levi quickly deplored the thickness of their tan jackets.

He pulled away,

"Wait-" He said breathlessly, then delved a hand into his pocket, fishing out a small brass key.

Petra was flush, mad and mystified; "what's-"

She cut off as he unlocked the door to the broom closet, then he grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.

The broom cupboard in the office building was a room that Levi was intimately familiar with, and one that was about to become intimately familiar with him.There was a small, high window inside that spilled daylight into the room, softly illuminating the plentiful shelves, rows of hanging dust cloths, brooms, mops and now a pair of hurriedly undressing scouts, both enraged, though ultimately hopeless in one another's presence.

Levi stalled a moment, then the door slammed and locked, and two sets of arms locked themselves around the other once more, returning to their passionate, desperate grappling.

"You're filthy." Levi spat when their lips finally parted and Petra's angry blush deepened. Cute, even when she was fuming.

"…that's right…" She sounded uncertain, then a little mocking, "…bet you hate that don't you? Are you gonna clean me up?"

He froze, a small frown pinching his thin brows,

"I meant your shirt. What is that, soup?"

He grasped the bottom of the fabric faintly between his thumb and forefinger, where the material was splattered and discoloured.

Her mouth fell open and he could feel the violent thrumming of her heart against his chest.

"It's…" Gaze askance, her scowl intensified, "It's broth, yes…"

"Mm." He mumbled, "Reckless and a messy eater huh?"

"I wasn't reckless!" She was shouting again, "It was a necessary cours-"

With a brisk ripping sound he'd torn the shirt apart and flung it off to the side.

She glared at him and spoke venomously,

"Gee Captain, if you keep doing that I'm gonna run out of shirts."

As she stood backlit in her plain white bra, Levi couldn't see how that would be a bad thing.

With an incensed growl her pushed her, and they directly toppled to the ground, Petra's hair splayed out along the floorboards, their mouths furiously fastened together. Desire and anger bolted through him, and she returned his rageful affections with equal fervour.

They tussled, gasped and kissed, flinging off items of clothing until Levi's shirt was hanging open above her pristine body, and she was nude but for the bra, fervent amber eyes gazing up at him. He was rock hard. It'd been weeks since they'd been able to get so close.

She apathetically teased a line down his abs that rippled with her touch, then moved herself to sit up with the intention of swapping their positions, but he pushed her back down forcibly, bringing his mouth to her ear,

"No." He breathed, "Today, I'm in control."

Petra's glower melted away, her eyes returning to their signature wide innocence. Her breath quivered with her inhale,

"Oh."

She licked her lips with anticipation as he undid his trousers and freed his erection. His bangs were brushing her cheeks and his trembling, hot breath rolled across her skin as he joined with her. Wet, though not entirely ready for him, she quaked and yelped in both pleasure and pain.

He stopped, measuring her response.

"Go." She whispered, determination ablaze.

With a resolute exhale, Levi began thrusting firmly and fully into her. His jaw was tight, his eyes a hard wall of ice.

Petra submitted entirely to the beauty of him.

She cried out, feeling complete in love and hurt. And boy did she want to hurt. More than she already did. She slid her hands up under his shirt, digging her nails deep into his back, which was already hot and tacky with sweat.

With an indignant grunt he bit down onto her collarbone and she squealed, revelling in the searing pain, the ache between her legs, the visceral humanity of feeling a man's weight pressing her down into the floor. She wanted him to fuck her into the ground.

Rapture sparked up through her and she felt muscles begin to convulse, pulling him in tighter, stronger. Neither time nor space were ever on their side, and so they hadn't even kissed since the Night of the Wraiths…since the fateful events of the expedition that followed, and Petra could feel the culmination of it all, the sadness and worry, the desperation and grief, fear and rage exploding inside; cellular catharsis. She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed her thighs as tight as she could, imprisoning him as he rutted into her.

Levi hissed, claiming her mouth with his tongue once more, moaning into her with wanton abandon. He might've lost her. The very thought had sparked a carnal desperation to take hold of him, one that was so strong that even if someone had burst into the room, he was certain he wouldn't have been able to stop fucking her. He briefly slowed and pulled her arms up to either side of her head, gripping her wrists hard and driving his thumbs into her palms. She wasn't going anywhere, he'd see to that.

Feather-white daylight cascaded softly from the window, picking out topaz glimmers in her beautiful eyes and the beads of sweat forming on her brow, and Levi'd never felt so strong in his entire life as his did watching her in that moment. It was paradoxical how he could feel so in control, and yet simultaneously, so out of his damn mind.

"Ah! Levi!"

She screamed out her climax, clutching her fingers tightly around his thumbs, while her body vibrated around him. With a dry mouth he continued pumping into her, watching the tops of her breasts jiggling within the bra in fascination. Then, from deep within his chest, a low blissful 'uh' rumbled into her, and that miraculous feeling that he would never get used to overcame him. He spent himself vigorously, at long last alleviating the throbbing aching between his legs, then pulsed into her a few more times, gently kissing away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes.

Once he'd come to a stop, he swallowed, panting and brushed some sweat-soaked hair from her face. Gradually, she released the vice grip of her thighs, and eased her legs down, watching him all the while. His eyes skated to her collarbone, where he'd left a deep red bite mark and he touched it gently with his fingertips.

"Shit." He muttered, "You alright?"

She brought her own fingers to the mark and lightly prodded it, and gave him a stunned nod.

They re-dressed themselves in near silence. At some point, Petra remembered that she'd once again been left without a useable shirt, but when she turned to Levi, he was already holding out a basic white t-shirt from a pile of cleaning uniforms off of one of the shelves. He stood, not a hair out of place, fully dressed in his military garb right down the impassive expression. It was quite incredible really; his ability to reveal and hide himself seemed as operational as a tap. She had some whiplash from the suddenly somewhat clinical atmosphere.

"I didn't know they kept spare clothes in here." She said.

"'They' don't keep anything in here." He replied flatly and Petra blinked, remembering him pulling a small key from his pocket.

"So you…own this cupboard?"

"It's for general use. But someone's got to keep this shit in order. You can't clean anything properly if this stuff's dirty to start with."

If Petra hadn't been so overwhelmed and tired, she might have smiled at his compulsion. She imagined his insistence to the Commander to let him have a key, and to let him keep it in order. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

She took the t-shirt from his hand and pulled it over her head.

"Did you know?"

Levi was still. He thought about her question for a second.

"Yes."

She tucked her hair behind her ear, staring at the ground.

"Though I don't know how the information spread so quickly." He added, "Only a very few officers knew about the inquiry. That it somehow got to members of the public…it shouldn't have."

"Right." She said in a small voice.

His boots appeared in her field of vision, then his warm thumb tipped her chin up to face him.

"Pet…I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Eyes brimming with a line of tears, she kissed him softly on the lips, and he returned it. When they broke, she uttered quietly, shaking her head,

"It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault."

Again he kissed the tears from her eyes.

Once they left the cupboard their clothes concealed them not just physically, but what they'd done, how they'd felt for one another. But Petra's pains couldn't be hidden. No matter where she travelled to from this point onwards, the dull aches in her thighs, centre and neck would come with her, and she would know that it was real. That made her feel lighter.

It had been nearly a week since the intruders came, and the culprits had finally all been named in the press, though the scout's still hadn't completed their own internal inquiry about the status of the blade boxes, and who was culpable. Eld read the article aloud to his squad mates before drills that day.

All of the attackers were distraught parents turned extremists by their grief, but it seemed that there was something darker, more organised at play too. A connection to the Military Police, who'd provided them with specific gear, their guns and belts. Rumours of a 'support group' set up by said connection, one that actually used these parents' distress as fuel and redirected it into hatred for the survey corps, then convinced them to act upon that hatred in the name of taking down the Commander, and thereby the whole regiment. They'd met and consolidated their plans at one of the town's taverns, then left directly for the compound, and their civilian garb meant that they weren't seen as suspicious by the soldiers stationed at the entrance. Captain Levi had grumbled something about it most likely being linked to Noble funders who didn't believe in the scouts' cause. "Not the first time they've gone to extreme measures for this shit." He'd said, "Greedy pigs don't give a damn about anything but their own bellies and backyards."

This evening the wind outside was alive with a touch of frost, Eld smiled at its howling through the dark window. Its bellowing and blustering only served to enhance the coziness of their little common room. The fire spat and flickered beside the new blue armchair the squad had acquired from one of the other (now empty) dorms, and on which sat Gunther, book open, reading aloud some cheesy fairy story about a witch and a toadstool, while Oruo pottered in the kitchenette, dubiously making dinner. On the sofa, Petra was laid down with her head rested on Eld's lap, dozing in and out, while the Captain sat at the table, having taken apart his gear and was meticulously oiling it.

Occasionally, Eld had a strange feeling of being watched, but whenever he scanned the room, the other inhabitants were diligently focused on what they were doing. Weird.

"The old hag stopped and lifted up the troublesome frog by its hind leg."

Eld remembered how often Gunther waltzed off to the library to the storytelling club with James, maybe he'd picked up a few tricks from there. The guy's low, measured voice really leant itself well to storytelling.

"'Hey! I'm hopping here!' Said the small green frog.''

…Or maybe not.

"What the hell was that?" Eld asked with a smile.

Gunther frowned indignantly, looking up from the pages,

"That was the frog's voice, obviously."

"I'm gonna be honest buddy, you're not nailing it."

"It's called creative licence. What would you know about storytelling anyway?"

"I'm the audience, and the audience is always right."

"Customer. The customer is always ri-"

"Maybe you should get the Captain to help you out with the frog's voice."

Captain Levi gave him a strong look of warning.

"Alright, not the Captain." Eld knew when to stop a bad idea in its tracks. Sometimes. "Petra?" He nudged her a little from where she lay and she mumbled incoherently. "How'd you feel about playing the the frog in Gunther's story?"

She yawned, "I liked Gunther's frog voice. I thought it was great."

Eld shrugged, "Alright, each to their own." Then eyed Gunther, "Sorry man. As you were."

Gunther quirked a displeased brow, then returned to the book, clearing his throat;

"'Frankly my green friend, I don't give a damn.' Croaked the witch."

Eld laughed, "Hey Oruo, get over here - we need you to be the voice of the old witch."

"Motherfucker-" Oruo blurted out, and began shaking his hand frantically, "Don't talk to me while I'm tryna do this! I nearly cut my damn hand off!"

"Oh that's right, I forgot that you can't do more than one thing at a time." Eld quipped, and Oruo growled,

"Shut your-"

"Oruo." The Captain's low voice grumbled, "Be quiet. I can't hear the story. Eld, stop interrupting." The man's steely glare pierced Gunther, "Go on."

With a grateful tilt of the head towards the Captain, Gunther continued his story.

—

For the first time in several weeks Petra felt truly warm, inside and out. Gunther's low voice rumbled on, interspersed with Eld's silly quips, Oruo's complaints, and the sound of clinking as the Captain worked on his gear. Through half-lidded eyes, and with a half-smile she watched him. Sometimes he'd catch her eye, and though nothing of his expression would change, each time her spirit kindled in tenderness. That he was looking at her at all, and so often was all the evidence she needed of his feelings.

She thought of the past week. How through the chaos of events, though they still couldn't be together freely, he'd brushed her hands with the back of his when they stood side-by-side, tucked her hair behind her ear when they stopped on the same branch in drills, and even brought a steaming cup of cinnamon-cardamon tea to her room when she felt the sadness creep in one evening. That last one had taken some weaselling out of to Gunther, who'd inquired about it the next morning.

And today…well it was the best birthday she could've asked for, given the circumstances. Due to their smaller numbers, the Commander had authorised a slight pay rise to the remaining scout members, and that had been reflected in the gifts the squad had picked out for her: a small new leather-bound notebook (Gunther), some thick woollen winter socks (Eld) and extremely garish red lipstick, borderline purple (Oruo), that she'd tried her very hardest to accept graciously.

Levi handed her a folded piece of paper, on the outside of which was an…interesting drawing of a stick figure wearing a skirt, underneath some almost print-like lettering that said 'Petra' and nothing else. On the inside he'd written:

Happy Birthday.

I pay your salary every month, isn't that enough of a gift?

Levi.

P.S. I have another cleaning cupboard I need you to organise. Keep some time aside on Sunday.

She got some inappropriate flutters at that one.

On top of all of this, the squad'd also brought her a small cake from the local town, yellow iced and decorated with swirls of cream and a couple of cherries. She'd been spoiled rotten.

"The tiny elf gladly took the witch's toadstool broth and went on his way up the cobblestone path.

'So long partner!' He called out.

'So long!' Replied the old witch."

Petra bolted upright giving Eld something of a fright.

"Hey, booster-seat- all good?"

Petra stared into the fire.

'So long…'

The words formed clearly on Julia's lips, 'So long…'

Her mouth broke into a smile and she wiped the once again brimming tears away with a sleeve.

"So long." She said.

Notes:

sorry once again for the update time...its in the name! ive had to take on more work this year so my free time for writing/editing has dwindled significantly

thanks to dadgan for the wee prompt for the last scene! 3 3

of course there are three well-known movie lines crammed in in gunther's story at the end there too ^^

Chapter 19: Investigation Part 1

Notes:

once again thank you everyone so much for ur patience! 3

Chapter Text

A beam of morning sunlight streamed through the gap between two fine ivory linen curtains. The rest diffused through the thin fabric with a holy glow, and even the shadows it cast were warm grey, soft, inviting and mingling along the bedcovers with the golds and pure whites of sunrise. From a tree branch outside there was a pleasant rolling trill of birdsong, so delicate that one might be convinced that there were no problems in the world at all. Lazily bundled under a heavy goose-feather duvet, Levi's eyes were barely more than a fraction open, but that fraction was all it took to be overcome with the oddity of the perfect morning, the gentleness and transience of it. It was surreal…a dream surely…

Hadn't he once had a dream of this feeling? Of white powder and cotton sheets, clouds, billowing fog and warm rays of light glancing across his face…then a fireplace and a cup of amber tea, in which an orange posy idly floated without direction…

With a slow inhale he took in sweet notes of yesterday's vanilla.

Dancing beams through the curtains bewitched him. Light. Morning light and fulfilling rest…but…Levi was just an underground rat…

With a soft exhale he recognised slumber's haze releasing its grip, easing him into full consciousness.

What day was it? Didn't he have shit to do?

Had he finally earned his sliver of sunlight?

The key span on its keyring around the end of Hange's finger in a single smooth motion while they assaulted Levi with the sheer wideness of their grin. He scowled, hands in deep in his black jacket pockets as he trudged down the corridor towards his office, peppy scientist now in tow.

"Aren't you going to ask me about my key?" They queried brightly.

"Don't tell me you locked up some poor bastard to experiment on again." He muttered tonelessly.

"I'll have you know I procured a signed consent form for that." They clapped their fingers shut around the glinting key, halting it's jingling abruptly, "No, this is - well - let's just say a little birdie told me that Petra's birthday is coming up." They replied. Levi glanced askance. Somehow their grin got wider.

"A birdie."

"He's asked that I refer to him more generally as Moblit, can't imagine why. You should've seen the picture he drew of her! He's come a long way with his drawing skills since those awful band posters last year."

Levi resented that their long legs meant they could keep up with him so easily as he increased his pace.

"So what? Since when did the scouts celebrate birthdays?"

Hange cackled, "There's a reason they don't call you 'Humanity's funnest' Levi. In answer to your frankly revealing question, all the time - why - it was Mike's birthday just last month, and I'm certain I saw you at Erwin's do in October-"

"Get to the damn point four-eyes."

Racing in front of him they stopped, hands on his shoulders, looking straight into his eyes with their terrifying fervour,

"Didn't you get Petra a gift last year? A little birdie told me that-"

"Tch."

Levi glowered and tried to move past them, but they wouldn't budge their arms an inch.

"Now, don't quote me on this, but I'm pretty sure that when you care about someone, you're supposed to do things that demonstrate that you care. And a birthday is an ideal time to do such things."

"Care? Gimme a break."

"Ah, denial! A strong tack but I'm afraid one that won't wash with me."

Levi's shoulders dropped a little. Whether it was because Hange occasionally saw through his steely exterior, or the fact that they'd mentioned not washing, he wasn't sure. The grey of his eyes continued piercing into their chestnut ones, he hoped with strong enough contempt to crack their goggles.

"I'm simply looking out for ya Levi. It's not every day you find a person willing to throw themselves in front of a gun-slinging maniac for you - especially one who's such a good kisser. And I would know, I've-"

"Finish that sentence and you'll need a new pair of glasses."

"Threatening words from a man who doesn't care."

Levi snorted irritably. Hange continued to stare at him. Levi's jaw tightened.

"Alright." He breathed, "What do you want."

"It's not about what I want. It's about an opportunity for you." They took their hand from his shoulder, releasing the key once more and dangling it in the light, "I'm sure you're familiar with the guest barracks? Usually they're only used for visits from patrons and nobles; each has it's own washroom with freestanding bath, a king-sized bed complete with new sheets-"

"I'm familiar."

They stared at him.

He stared back.

"What?"

"This key is for one of those rooms."

"You want me to clean it or something?"

"Levi." Hange looked at him intently.

"I don't have time for your bullshit right now."

"Until the results of the enquiry are through, the scouts won't be allowed any visitors, nobles, patrons or otherwise. Only Scouts and Military Police are allowed in and out of the grounds, leaving this room-" They dangled the key suggestively, "vacant for the foreseeable future."

Levi blinked at them.

"Leaving this room vacant," They reiterated, "For whoever has the key to it to do whatever they please in it, with whoever they please."

Levi's eyes widened a touch, "That's-"

"Nope! Say no more! It's certainly none of my business what the key holder gets up to in their free time with this room. Perhaps it will need a clean after all." They winked and pressed the key into his hand, then their voice dropped a little lower, "What are friends for eh?"

Then they waltzed off down the corridor, lab coat sweeping around a corner, while Levi stood, dumbstruck, staring at the key in his palm.

An affectionate hum sounded from behind him, and he suddenly felt a warm hand trailing effortlessly up and down his back.

"Beautiful morning isn't it, Captain?"

A tiny smile pulled at his lips. The tenderness of her sweet voice bathed his mind in memories of the night just passed; of the limbs entangled, bathwater splashing, sheets whispering, gentle sighing. Rapture.

He rolled from his side onto his back, then to his other side so he could gaze up at his very own angel: amber eyes, copper hair glowing with the streaming sunlight, her bare shoulders, collarbones and tops of her breasts were free above the duvet as she half sat up, a splendid palette of whites, peaches and oranges.

A faint blush coloured her cheeks, and she was caressing him with her very gaze. She looked complete. He felt it too.

"Thought I told you not to call me that." He mumbled, bringing a hand to his dishevelled hair to push it from his face.

"You mean 'Captain?'" She replied, and he didn't miss the impish glint that had appeared in those shiny ambers.

"Mm." He mumbled.

She leant forward a little, granting him a view of her casually pressed together cleavage, and began pushing her hand through his hair as he had just done for himself.

"So you don't like it?" She asked, continuing stroking his hair. It felt so damn good. He watched her flatly as she did so. Under his unwavering gaze she smiled, then bit her lip in her regular fashion;

"You know sir, there are some men who would jump at the chance to have a woman call them 'Captain' in the bedroom."

"I'm not Bozad." He answered and earned her bright, musical laugh.

"I'm not so sure about that Captain, you've been dressing mighty similar recently."

Levi narrowed his eyes, "You tryna piss me off?"

"I'm trying to get a…rise out of you, yes."

"Sounds like you've been spending too much time with that goatee asshole."

She giggled, "You mean Eld?"

He closed his eyes, letting his breath come gently and fully, feeling her fingers brushing continually through his hair, lulling him back to rest.

"Do you wanna go back to sleep?" She asked gently.

"Maybe." His voiced rumbled contentedly.

The birds continued to twitter, and Petra continued her peaceful movements, drawing him into a relaxing trance.

Levi'd never had this. He'd never once gone to sleep beside someone, nor woken up next to them - at least, not since he was a young boy. It surprised him how naturally it'd come about, and if Petra'd been anyone else, he was certain it wouldn't have been possible. Again he was reminded of her unique ability to put him at ease, to bring him the peace of mind and gentleness that he eternally craved. He could feel the heaviness of sleep blanketing his brain once more, when her voice chimed again,

"What kind of shampoo do you use?"

His eyes eased open.

"Huh?" He croaked, "The hell kinda question is that?"

Beaming, she brought her face right up to his and placed a light kiss on his nose.

"I'm just interested. Your hair is super soft."

Levi frowned, mourning the loss of her hand massaging his scalp, his restful state, and instead begrudgingly brought himself to sit up against the headboard as she was, duvet falling away from his chest.

"If I don't get to know these things about you, then who does?" She continued, though her eyes had strayed to his newly exposed muscles.

So this was what it felt like to be ogled. It was a whole morning of firsts.

"Tch. Who gives a shit about stuff like that?"

"Me." Then her lips were on his neck, trailing up to his ear, "I know you have this whole 'cold, distant, glacier-man' thing going on," Levi quirked a brow at her phrasing, "but everyone likes to be known sir. Even if it's just what soap they use."

He turned his face into hers, "Why, so you can write a dumb little song about it?"

Petra snort-laughed and brought her hand up to his cheek, "Would you like that?"

He didn't reply, only let her kiss him on the lips fully and deeply, felt her hands roaming all over his chest. When she pulled away her gaze was fire;

"Well…?"

"Soap. Basic-ass soap."

Confusion arrested her doe-eyes.

"I don't believe you. It's too soft for that." Again her hand combed through his inky strands.

"Doesn't matter if you believe me. That's what I use." He stated flatly, "Now will you leave me the hell alone so I can sleep?"

Her hand slowed and she grinned, "Maybe."

Levi had never wished to be an artist before, but the view of her naked body ascending from the white clouds of the bed, decorated only in the beams of morning sunlight was one he wished he could paint. There needed to be a record of that shit. It was too beautiful not to be shared with the world. He wanted to rally everyone he knew in Sina's fancy-ass art gallery and point at his perfectly captured ceiling-to-floor length painting of her and say, "See that gorgeous shit? That's mine. None of you assholes get that."

For the first time ever, Levi wanted to gloat.

The next thing he knew, she was wrapped in a pale, thin linen robe and out the door.

Though he'd said he wanted to sleep, he didn't move, and his greyish-blue eyes never left the doorway that she'd walked through.

The morning felt almost wrong, absurd even. Musings about romance were all around him again, as though they were being tweeted to him by the birds outside, like suddenly this entire scene with him in it were something from one of Gunther's shitty storybooks.

Levi was only a tool, a deadly machine for the monied state to operate. He was useful in this life only for his physical strength, and his sole purpose was to throw his bleeding, sweat drenched-body head-first at the baying jaws of monsters. But…

Not even once before he'd met her had he pictured what the world would look like once the titans were eradicated. He'd never looked that far ahead. Looking into the future was dumb, no way was he, or anyone he cared about gonna live that long. But since he'd known Petra, this year more than ever before, pictures of some kind of future had come creeping in against his will…

He snorted - most of his feelings towards her were being felt against his will.

Yet, a personal, selfish reason to make it to that new world blossomed colourfully in his mind from time to time. The potential to have this; to have something worth having. Something that wasn't a new bar of white soap, or whiskey, or tea, and yet contained the same freshness, colour, and bliss.

He sighed softly.

Even now it was clear to him that they were operating on borrowed time. Just because he'd fallen irrevocably into his own fantasy, that didn't mean he was wrong to question it, and it didn't mean he was wrong about the nature of these things. This world wouldn't let any sucker inside the walls be too happy for too long, especially folks who were half decent. Levi was far from perfect, but through Petra's eyes he'd begun to see a version of himself he could live with.

The door creaked as it opened and Petra awkwardly backed into the room, porcelain clinking. She smiled at himsheepishly as she approached with a tray, upon which sat a brown china teapot and two matching cups that she then placed on the bedside table.

She sat on the edge of the bed,

"I think it'll still need two more minutes before it's up to your standard-"

Interrupting, he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her into the bed with him, pulling her flush against his naked body under the duvet. His arms clamped her back against his muscled chest and his nose greedily nuzzled her hair, he held her strongly, showering her with minuscule attentions. She gasped and laughed as his fingers hungrily squeezed at her arms and tickled at her tummy through the fine robe. The thin linen was already torturing him; he began to grow hard at the feeling of her warm, round ass through it as she brushed up against his cock within his embrace. They might not have forever, but they at least had these small moments.

"Never do that again." He warned into her hair.

"What?" And he swore he could hear her eyelashes flutter in surprise.

He kissed the crook of her neck deeply.

"Leave me." His voice rumbled, a little muffled.

"You asked me to!" She replied in mock-outrage.

"Yeah well, I'm messed up. You shouldn't listen to me."

"It's my job to follow your orders!"

"Alright." He continued burying his face into her, talking directly into her neck, "Then I order you to stop listening to me."

"Careful Levi," Her laughter chimed, "That one might come back round to bite you in the ass."

He growled, pulling her tighter up against his now fully hard erection, "Well we can't have that. If there's gonna be any ass-biting it should come from me."

She squealed, and he released his vice grip on her, flipping her onto her back and grinding himself onto her from above. Their tongues toyed with each other and she pushed her hips up to meet his thrusts and he moaned gratefully for the friction. This thin linen robe was a revelation. That he could just about see her tits through it, the pink of her nipples slightly dulled and the somewhat shadowy perfect shape of her, and that he alone got to know what was under it, was making him wild.

Petra moved a hand between their restless bodies to untie the the robe, but he stopped her.

"Leave it on." He commanded lowly and felt her shiver.

It was disorientating to Petra how quickly his right hand had moved from balancing himself above her, to being partially inside her. She was so turned on that she could feel the beginnings of a wet spot on the back of the robe, that was certainly going through to the bedsheets too. Before she could feel embarrassed about it though, she tried to imagine a single other person in the whole world who could writhe beneath his lithe, firm body, his sharp delicate features, icy eyes and soft hair, and not feel the impulse to beg for his touch. That was surely an impossible task.

She panted lustfully as he began to move faster, bringing his thumb to her clit and circling it at a building pace, like an artist painting her in sounds. He began sucking a nipple through her thin robe and she gripped firmly onto his hair, desperately moving her legs up and around him as explosions began detonating through her. She needed to grant him more access, he could have whatever he wanted, and she never wanted him to stop. She instinctually moved her hips against his masterful hand-

"Fuck!" She cried out, joints shaking as she neared her euphoria.

He stopped abruptly, darkness above her, bangs falling forward across his face; a glint of amusement in his eye.

"What?" She panted, hot, red-faced and furious that he would withdraw himself so close to her climax.

"Not often I hear you curse Pet."

Her eyes widened and she took an indignant breath in, but before she could say anything a light rap at the door sounded.

The pair stared at one another, slack jawed for a moment.

"If that's Oruo I swear to Maria…" She whispered through gritted teeth.

Levi looked over his shoulder to the door, to where a nervous voice called through the wood.

"Uh…Captain Levi?"

Moblit.

An awkward cough, then, "I-uh- I know it's Sunday sir, but Commander Erwin has called the Special Operations squad to the strategy room."

Levi sucked in a breath,

"Now?" He asked with a pronounced scowl that he was certain the man on the other side of the door could hear.

"Y-yes sir." Moblit responded, "T-the Section Commander sent me here to fetch you…"

"Right." Levi looked back at Petra's flushed, wonderful cheeks, "I'll be there."

"Great - I'll - ah - let the Section Commander know you're on the way."

The sounds of Moblit's boots pattering down the steps echoed as the couple once again stared at one another. Sighing heavily, Levi lifted his weight from her and walked through the door to the ensuite bathroom, almost certainly to wash his hands. It was something Petra wasn't ever offended by though, knowing him as she did. She sat up and started glumly gathering her belongings. Two minutes later, he walked back into the room to the desk, and began to unfold his clean clothes that he'd neatly placed on the room's desk the night before.

And just like that, the stolen time to enjoy one another was over again.

"Happy belated birthday." He mumbled, turning to her as he zipped up his trousers.

Petra, faffing with the clasp of her basic bra around her back, looked at him a little despondently, but nonetheless with a smile, "Thanks. I guess we'll have to find time to drink this tea later."

Around her neck, a small silver heart glinted at the end of a fine chain.

The atmosphere was tense and a little confused between the squad as they sidled through the doorway into the strategy room behind their stern Captain. Maroon curtains were draped across the back walls of the slightly-too-small-for-purpose space, bits and bobs scattered about, tall bookcases lined the walls containing books and folded up maps. They were often called in shortly before expeditions and presented with their main assignments plus the contingency 'last resort' plans, but never before had they been called in a whole month before the next scheduled expedition.

In front of Moblit hurriedly scrawling notes into his notebook, Commander Erwin stood poised, his large brows furrowed and a hand on his chin: the very statue of a musing man. Beside him Section Commander Hange hummed and frowned. The lunatic-genius duo were scrutinous, speaking lowly either side of the sand table positioned in the centre of the room, a map splayed across it with a couple of enthusiastic pins sticking out, and as Petra approached, she noted with some alarm that the map depicted the interiors of walls Sina and Rose.

The Commander's shrewd eyes flicked up to the forthcoming line of the Special Ops squad, who were trailing into the room behind their Captain like uncertain ducklings. Erwin's focused expression eased somewhat in recognition;

"Ah, thank you all for getting here at such short notice. Please accept my apologies for disrupting your day off."

"What is it Erwin?" Levi snarked, "Eyebrow clippers were sold out in town again?"

From the corner of her eye, Petra caught Eld push his lips together.

The Commander pointedly ignored the comment, and continued speaking with a gravity that, contrary to it's nature, seemed to make every member of his audience stand a little straighter;

"We are swiftly running out of time to investigate the incident with the survey corps malfunctioning blade boxes; the loss of life it incurred on the most recent expedition. Until the matter is put to rest, we are unable to partake in any expeditions for the foreseeable."

The jaws of the four team members had scarcely hit the floor when their Captain spoke;

"No expeditions? Why the hell not?"

"The attackers were members of a group who are now calling themselves the 'anti-scout alliance'. They are made up of not just bereaved parents but also various other members of the public who harbour anti-scout sentiments. Though generally speaking their numbers are unremarkable, the attacks they perpetrated last week have struck a chord with the public. It's whipped up something of an uproar and intensified the pre-exisitng anti-scout attitudes among the common folk. Simply put, public support for the survey corps is at an all-time low."

"So? Lack of public favour has never stopped the scouts before. Don't tell me you're scared of a couple loud mouths and drunks-"

"It's not just public favour that's the problem." Hange stepped forward, pulling their goggles down from the top of their head back over their eyes, "The issue has made it all the way to the capital. Erwin has received several letters from donors, including one from the office of the King himself. All of them contain warnings that they will cut, or even withdraw funding completely from the regiment unless we can prove that we weren't negligent on the most recent expedition."

Eld frowned, "Commander, Sir, does that mean the authorities are taking the side of the attackers?"

"No." Erwin looked to Eld, "Not exactly. But since the attackers themselves were members of the public, parents of dead scouts no less, it's not an easy position for the authorities to be put in. If we demonise the attackers in the press, then we ostracise the countless others who've lost friends and family members to the titans."

"Right. It's not in our interests to play down what grief can do to the human mind, especially since the scouts escaped the attack with no casualties." Hange added, "We need to remind the public that we are in the business of hope, discovery and freedom, rather than premature death."

As the four members of the squad looked across at one another, Petra was certain they were all thinking the same: they were in the business of all of those things.

"I see." Levi folded his arms, "You wanna prove that we weren't responsible for taking the faulty shit on expedition so that some dumbasses in the taverns will like us again, and the rich bitches up top continue to pay us."

"In a manner of speaking." Erwin responded, "The first-"

"Hold up." Levi held a hand out to the Commander, "You told us just last week that you thought some squad leaders took that faulty shit out on expedition on purpose to improve their stats. That would mean the scouts are responsible for what happened."

"I did say that. However, I've since been led to believe that certain scouts posted in the storage sheds the night before the expedition had accepted bribes to leave their posts in order for the regular gear and the faulty gear to be switched."

The room fell momentarily silent. The very idea that that might the case was undoubtedly shocking. The Special Ops squad threw concerned looks at one another.

Levi inhaled deeply, then approached the sand table, his grey eyes skating over the greens and blacks of the inked map,

"Huh. So, what's the plan?"

The Commander tilted his head to the squad, beckoning. A minute later, the map on the table was surrounded on all sides by forward leaning, concentrating faces.

Erwin pointed firmly at a point on the parchment;

"Hange and I will remain here at the compound. We will be conducting interviews of all soldiers in the log who are down as being posted in the equipment stores or maintenance sheds the night before, and morning of the expedition. We'll be looking for inconsistencies in their stories, trying to sniff out anyone who may have accepted bribes to look the other way."

"Perhaps you should take Mike with you then sir." Eld said quietly.

Levi's voice cut across Eld's, "You sure you'll be able to get it out of them? No offence, but someone who's betrayed their whole regiment isn't gonna admit to it just because you asked them a couple pointed questions. You'll have to intimidate them, scare them if necessary."

A shiver of equal fear and desire rattled up Petra's spine.

"That's why I'm bringing Hange." Erwin combatted.

Hange was leant forward, both hands on the table. Their eyes darkened, and an unnerving grin widened across their face;

"I'm the bad cop."

Petra saw the colour drain from both Oruo and Moblit.

Erwin continued,

"Levi, your squad will need to be split up. I don't mind how you decide it, but some of you will be headed to the Three Bucks Tavern in Ehrmich. According to the MP's who arrested the attackers, this tavern was the location for the initial gatherings of the anti-scout alliance. Find out what you can from the locals about the main players, they will be the ones with the strongest motive for switching the boxes. Whoever's left will travel to Factory city. There you'll find the plant that supplies the blade boxes to the military. Take a look at their outgoing shipments to the scouts, find out who transported the gear here originally, and look into their quality checks."

Petra cleared her throat, "Sorry Commander," Suddenly seven pairs of eyes were on her, she swallowed, "The faulty boxes have been in play since the summer, right? Are you asking us to go back that far?"

"That's correct. An operation to discredit the scouts like this would have taken quite some planning. Of course, it may have nothing to do with them, but it would be foolish to rule out foul play at the source without first investigating."

Petra gave a focused nod and bit her lip.

"Seems we got our work cut out then." Levi blinked flatly, "Petra, with me. We'll head to the tavern. Not sure I trust these blockheads to search for people instead of whatever ales they got on tap. Eld, take Gunther and Oruo to the factory-"

"Er, Captain?" Oruo interrupted, loosening his cravat somewhat anxiously, "If I may sir, I think it would be better if I come with you and Petra. The plant where they make the boxes is only one location, but Ehrmich is a big town and there's no telling where it will take you - it's easier to cover more ground in Ehrmich with more manpower."

Petra elbowed him hard and he winced, narrowly avoiding biting his tongue,

"Woman-power! No, just power, I mean-"

"It's settled then." Erwin ruled with finality, "Levi take Petra and Oruo to the Three Bucks. Eld and Gunther will head to Factory city; remain here for now so I can brief you on its location, you'll need special permissions to visit. Both places are a fair few hours ride, so to make sure we have enough time to investigate thoroughly, I'll expect you all to report back tomorrow evening. Moblit, take Captain Levi to the office for some funds for an Inn and stables for the night." He stood a little taller, "It goes without saying that this information is classified, it does not leave this room. Is that clear?"

"Clear sir." Eld replied, and Gunther, Oruo and Petra nodded with determination.

"Very well then. I'll see you all tomorrow for a report. Dismissed."

"Well, I'm not sure what I was expecting." Eld mumbled as he dismounted his horse.

It had been a long ride out, and they now found themselves halfway through a mountain pass, with rock and snow covered peaks surrounding them on all sides. Factory city's location was a well kept secret, due to the resources required for building military equipment, and now the pair stood in front of the outer brick walls, looking up at the large columns of steel, brick chimneys and iron that grew out from within them. Steam and smoke was being pumped into the air in rolling swells, and distant clangs and shouting could be heard.

"So this is where they make ultra hard steel." Gunther tugged his horse towards the entrance gate alongside his friend.

"It sure is big for a place with a supposedly secret location." Eld said.

"It is secret and It's an honour that we were let in on it." Gunther replied seriously, "Not even Captain Levi knows where this place is."

"Yeah - unless we tell him."

Gunther turned to him, aghast, "Eld you can't-"

"Keep your hair on, I'm not gonna tell him." Eld's lip quirked up, "It's too easy to set you off man."

Gunther snorted indignantly.

They drew up to the stone gate, housing a large bolted wooden door within an arch. A wiry old man with round glasses and a mean face leant out suddenly through a small booth to the side.

"Hold your horses!" Came his shrill voice, "I am assuming you pair have approved documents?"

"Nah we just found this place on a whim, hoping to see some sights, check out the local eateries-"

Gunther stepped in front of Eld, fishing the rolled parchment from the inside pocket of his jacket, "This is the letter of approval. We're visiting Metalworks 108."

The old man looked sour, snatching the document from Gunther's hand. Eld sighed.

"Hm." The old man grunted, "Survey Corps eh? Investigating? Shouldn't you be leaving that to the Military Police?"

Gunther frowned, "It's scout business, there's no need to get the MP's involved-"

"It's fishy to be sure." The old man pinched his nose, "I'm not sure I can let you pass without separate approval from a high ranking officer from the Military Police."

"What?"

Eld saw Gunther ball his fists up by his sides. Nothing quite got the guy angry so quickly as people bending or changing the rules. His friend's voice was getting louder by the second,

"The legal requirement is a letter of approval signed by a regiment Commander, any regiment Commander - which we have just provided!"

"Mm…usually it is," The old man drew out his words. He took off his circular glasses and began cleaning them, relishing in his tiny amount of power, "But the reason denoted here is an 'investigation'. The Military Police are the only soldiers qualified to conduct investigations. That's their job."

Steam was practically spewing from Gunther's ears, "Those aren't the rules! The only legal requirement for entry to Factory City is this signed letter, irregardless of rank, department or regiment. You can't bar us from entry when-"

"A signed letter and a valid reason for entry. I'm sorry 'sir' but I don't consider this to be a valid reason for entry to factory city, being that you are scouts, and not members of the Military Police, and therefore not qualified to conduct an investigation."

Gunther took a forceful, intimidating step towards the booth, "Not qualified my ass! We're the goddamn Special Operations-"

"Hey man," Eld pulled him back with a hand on his shoulder, "It's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Gunther spat back to him, "Did you forget how many hours we spent riding out here?"

"No but-"

"Fine, when we ride back into the compound, you can tell the Commander why we got nothing to show for ourselves."

"Gunther." Eld gave him a look and Gunther took a deep breath in, pulling a hand round his forehead.

Eld stepped passed him up to the Old man, who was watching with an infuriatingly gleeful expression.

"Look, we've come a long way to get here, and we've given you the required document-"

"I can't let you through without-"

"Yeah, yeah, without a valid reason I gotcha. But this really is just a run-of-the-mill check into gear quality, which is allowable within each branch's contract with Factory City anyway, and something the scouts are well overdue."

"I still need-"

"Listen, would you really want to waste the Military Police's time by getting them to check on a couple blades and straps made for the scouts? Don't you think they have more important things to do? Crimes to solve?"

"I suppose…"

"Wouldn't it be a horrible tragedy if a couple MP's were dragged from their post to run checks on scout equipment and criminals were left to freely roam the streets?"

The old man narrowed his eyes at Eld, then pressed his thin, pale lips into a hard line.

Eld continued, "So when I go down to Commander Nile Dok's office to procure a second letter of consent, which I will get, who should I say sent me there?"

The old man gave him a long, hard stare.

"….approved." He stamped the document firmly and handed it back to Eld, who flashed a warm smile.

"Leave your horses at the posts by the gate." The man said tartly, "I'll get Dunstan to escort you to Metalworks 108."

"Thank you sir, you really are too kind."

Oruo fluffed his cravat smugly. Though they'd put on civilian clothes for their visit, both Captain Levi and himself had kept their cravats on, a fact which Petra had chewed his ear off for on the walk over.

"A cravat Oruo?! We're supposed to be inconspicuous!" She'd nagged, deliberately keeping her voice low enough that their Captain wouldn't catch on…not that he'd have anything to say about their 'moronic bickering' anyway, as he often called it. Usually he ignored it, or voiced a light 'Tch.'

"Oh, so your beloved Captain can wear a cravat in civilian wear, but I can't?" Oruo'd replied, in equally frenetic, though hushed tones.

"Beloved?" Her voice was quiet and her eyes'd widened, momentarily taken aback. A part of Oruo had anticipated it, but the other part, the wishful part, hadn't expected her reaction to be so obvious. A second later her expression flickered back into its previous frown, but red painted her cheeks, "One person wearing a cravat could be seen as a quirky trait, but two - two people out of a group of three total strangers wearing cravats and suits to a run-down local pub on a Sunday afternoon is just…"

"Classy? Well-groomed? Showing impeccable taste-"

"Absurd! You're going to draw unnecessary attention to us." She'd pursed her lips, "Besides - you're the one with the 'beloved' Captain anyway! Look at you!" She gestured roughly to his cravat first, then to his whole person generally: to his slight baggy fawn-coloured suit with patches on the elbows. Even Oruo knew it didn't come close to the clean lines, sharp cut and fancy fabric of Levi's classic black suit, but it was the best suit he owned, the only one his family had been able to afford, so it would have to do even if it was ill-fitting, scratchy, and the wrong colour entirely.

Oruo'd eyed her basic moss-green long-sleeved cotton dress and heavy thick-soled brown boots. The dress was simple, but her golden eyes were bright with spirit.

"At least I don't look like a lost farm girl." He muttered with a raised brow and a head tilt.

"I'd take lost farm girl over 'haggard accountant' any day of the week." She rebutted and Oruo'd snorted angrily.

He quickened his pace to catch up with the Captain, and was now tailing Levi so closely behind him that when said Captain stopped abruptly by the door to the Three Bucks tavern, Oruo crashed into the solid wall of unmoving muscle that made up his back.

Naturally, he bit his tongue.

Captain Levi turned over his shoulder, "Hey - watch it. That's close enough. You tryna smell my shampoo or something?"

It could have been a trick of the light, but from his periphery she thought her saw Petra redden further. The Captain turned away and kept walking.

"Ow…" Oruo quietly bemoaned, nursing his tongue.

"Serves you right." Petra said snidely, "Didn't your mother teach you not to invade people's personal space?"

Oruo scowled deeply as they swung open the creaky old door.

The tavern was fairly small and dingy. As the three 'undercover' scouts graced the entranceway, the chatter of the punters stopped abruptly, and the whites of several eyes turned on them. A second or so passed before gentle murmuring started up once more. Oruo wanted to hiss "see" at Petra, but the Captain was already growling instructions at them lowly,

"Split up. Take different tables and ask direct questions. You think you've found out something useful, for Maria's sake remember it - write it down if you have to. You run into any trouble catch my eye and pull on your earlobe. Make it look natural. I'll come over."

"Do you want us to make up fake names and jobs sir?" Oruo queried.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you do. Pretend you're a bereaved parent who wants to join the alliance, or just an angry civilian pissed with the scouts, doesn't matter. Just find something." Then he stalked off towards a table of four at the dingy back of the room, hands deep in his black jacket pockets.

"Brief brief huh…?" Petra said with a small smile. Oruo's frown line deepened.

He approached a table mindlessly, then attempted to swerve away from it when he spotted (slightly too late) that it was populated with burly men. He didn't want trouble quite yet. Easier said than done however…

"Hey buddy."

A deep voice from behind him. Oruo winced. He turned back to the table and gave them an assured nod.

"Afternoon gentlemen." He said with confidence. After all, he was an elite scout.

The table tittered at his manner.

"Haven't seen ya round here before." The largest of the three men said, firmly placing his tankard down and a little froth splashed out onto the tabletop. Over the quiet guffawing Oruo just about picked out one of the guys mumble 'nice cravat asshole.'

"That's right, I'm new in town, looking for the ah-"

"What's ya name?"

"Oru - Oh, ah," Oruo coughed and cleared his throat excessively over further sinister chortling from the table.

"Oh-ah?"

"Karl. It's Karl." He said quickly.

That was a close call.

The main guy smirked, "Ok Karl. What're ya doing in a dive like this then eh? Looking for some company?"

The man nudged his friend. More chuckling.

Oruo scowled again, "I moved to these parts a mere day ago. I'm looking for members of the anti-scout alliance-"

The large balding man stood abruptly from his seat, "The fuck did you just say?"

The laughter had subsided and the table was silent, watching him. A bead of sweat appeared on Oruo's brow.

"The anti-scout all-"

"Yeah I heard you the first time motherfucker. What are you a pig? We don't know shit about that."

"Oi Sverre, he's dressed like a blind pig." The second man interjected with a smirk from his seat, the third began making oinking noises.

"No no, It's my mission to destroy the scouts. I'm an…accountant you see,"

"Oh yeah? Destroy the scouts is it?" The second man muttered wryly, "If I had a silver coin every time some feeble bastard came in here spouting that…"

The largest, Sverre, smirked, "An accountant? Ya planning to bore them to death?"

Oruo growled. He'd had just about enough of everyone's teasing today. He clenched his fists by his sides.

"You don't understand!" He breathed fiercely, then, with a delicate wave of his hand and the precision of a well-practiced actor, uttered the following:

"I lost my darling wife Petra to the titans in the recent scouting expedition. She was beautiful - though sometimes something of a nag - needless to say it simply wasn't her time to go. She was supposed to bear my children, sit in rocking chairs with me into old age. I'm devastated as I'm sure you can imagine, and I'd like to join up with the…with them. I must make the survey corps pay for taking my Petra from me."

"Like the sound of your own voice don't ya buddy?"

Oruo scoffed, "I will get my revenge on the bitch scouts that took my darling Petra away. With or without your help." He narrowed his eyes at Sverre, who was a good foot taller than him, "…If you're too chickenshit to direct me to the alliance," He said quietly, "Then I'll find someone who will."

Sverre's eyes flashed, and his posture relaxed, "Alright Karl. You seem pretty sure you wanna take down the scouts."

"It's the only reason I have to live anymore." Oruo spat. He was enjoying his new role.

Sverre smiled, "I like your fire. What you got?"

Oruo looked perplexed, "Got?"

"To offer."

A grin unfolded smugly across Oruo's face. From his inside jacket pocket he took a short single-barrelled shotgun, and span it around suavely on his finger. It was a model that the scouts had taken off of their attackers the previous week. He wasn't armed with the belt and bullets but, the presence of the same model of gun would surely be enough to convince any members of the alliance that they meant business. Captain Levi had said as much when he handed the guns over to himself and Petra before they'd left for the tavern.

Sverre nodded, and fished a hand into his jacket pocket,

"Ask for Luis."

Between his dumpy thumb and finger he held out a card. In a basic font 'CAULFIELDE PAWN SHOP' was typed out, below it in smaller lettering '5 Abbot's Mews'. Street name most likely. Oruo took it with a sincere nod and placed it, along with the firearm back inside his jacket.

"A pleasure doing business with you." He muttered and turned away.

"Wait a minute." The voice of the second man called out, as he stood from the table, "Karl was it? You said you moved here the other day. Where a-bouts did you move to?"

Sverre raised an eyebrow, "That's a good question."

The bead of sweat returned to grace Oruo's temple.

"Er…where?" He said, trying to push the tremble from his voice as he surreptitiously scanned the room for Captain Levi and began gently pulling on his ear lobe.

The third man stood from the table, completing his opposing line up of pumped-up crooks.

"I thought accountants was meant to be smart." The third man said, "Where a-bouts? What street?"

Oruo's eyes were trained on Levi in the corner on the room, his fingers still pulling on his earlobe, but the Captain still hadn't noticed him, and was instead staring, eyes burning, across at something Oruo couldn't see by the bar, due to his positioning in the corner of the room.

"Street - right…" He muttered, "It's just round the corner from Abbot's Mews. Across from the old church. It's a small, modest abode with a yellow door, can't miss it."

"Is that right?" Sverre uttered.

What in three walls was the Captain doing? Oruo'd been tugging his earlobe so hard for so long that he was close to ripping it the fuck off. Was he gonna have to subdue these three huge men all by himself? Not that he couldn't manage it of course, but it would be nice to know he had some assistance if need be. And need could very well be. The bead of sweat rolled down his face as Sverre's imposing frame approached him.

"Because," Sverre continued tauntingly, "I seem to remember seeing the address "Abbot's Mews somewhere before…now where was that?…hmmm."

Oruo swallowed, his eyes flicking between the distant staring statue of the Captain and the cold blue eyes of the now apparently monumentally large Sverre.

"Was it, perhaps, on that business card I just handed to you?"

Oruo blinked as Sverre withdrew and arm. He scrunched up his eyes anticipating the power of the hit to knock him cold in a single blow. Instead a high-pitched yell and the sound of a glass smashing forced his eyes open and in the momentary distraction, he ducked, dodging Sverre's lumbering swing. Oruo span around to see Petra stood in front of the bar with the end of a half-smashed bottle, and she was waving it threateningly about.

"Anyone else feeling lucky?!" She shrieked, and Oruo's eyes widened. The bottom half of her long dress was torn revealing her legs up to the knee, and two men lay passed out in front of the bar stools either side of her, one with a bleeding scratch across his face.

Unthinkingly he darted towards her just in time to see Captain Levi sweep her off her feet, throw her over his shoulder and haul her towards the door.

"Hurry up." He barked at Oruo who didn't need to be told twice.

It felt like the entire hollering bar had given chase out into the street.

Dark already, the torchlights of the black lampposts flashed through Oruo's eyes as they peeled down the road as fast as they could. It wasn't long however until the locals giving chase began to fade away, either falling too far behind or giving up running entirely. Military training had given the three scouts the edge, and allowed them to escape deeper into town, where they rounded into a deserted, dingy alleyway and stopped, panting into the dark.

Chapter 20: Investigation Part 2

Notes:

warning: cheese and really bad jokes incoming

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

An orangey-yellow glow from a nearby street lamp picked out the faces of the escapees in the tight, bricked space, somewhat cutting through the murk and bouncing off the filth coloured puddles. It picked out the oranges and honey-browns in Petra's eyes, and the golden-ginger strands of her hair.

"Shit."

Levi grumbled, leaning against the wall, then instantly pushing himself off it with an irritated grunt when he realised it was coated in wet sheen from a dripping pipe higher up. He'd roughly placed Petra down (having ran with her the whole way) and Oruo was stood in front of an old crate, scowling and brushing dust from his unshapely brown suit.

Levi removed a handkerchief from his pocket, and began methodically wiping the wall's grime from his hands.

This relatively quiet moment following their escape was quickly punctured by a vociferous growl from Oruo, who gave a final infuriated dust of his jacket, balled his fists and rounded on the redhead;

"So much for not drawing any attention to us! What part of 'undercover' doesn't make sense to you Petra?"

"Go to hell!" She instantly yelled back at him, her cute doll-like features having morphed into those of a cornered animal, "At least I bested them! You looked like you were about to get your skull caved in moron!"

"There you were chewing my ear off for wearing a cravat, when you were the one who threw the whole damn mission!"

The pair's yelling faces were now so close to one another's that their noses were practically touching.

Levi watched a small trickle of blood edge down the lower half of Petra's pale leg to meet her pulled up white sock. The flat line of his mouth twitched.

"They wouldn't listen to me! You'd react the same way if-"

"So they wouldn't listen, big deal, walk the fuck away." Oruo fired back, "You don't have to rise to every pathetic insult-"

She pointed a finger strongly into his chest; "Oh you're one to talk-"

Levi grabbed the fronts of both of their outfits in each hand and threw them forcibly apart. Oruo stumbled, catching himself with his hands on the wall and Petra lurched, then was bent double, hands on her knees. Levi let them collect themselves momentarily.

"Quit being so damn noisy." He uttered, "Just 'cos we're in a dark alley that doesn't mean every asshole around here is deaf. Have some sense."

Oruo's eyes gleamed at him through the gloom dejectedly. Petra was looking at her boots.

"The mission isn't done." Then under his breath, "Tch. Acting like a pair of fresh cadet brats."

Levi turned and walked further into the alleyway, pulling a hand around his forehead. Being turfed from the tavern was a set back, but this wasn't over, not yet. They'd find a way. They'd have to. One lead bust, sure, but there would be others. They fought man-eating monsters for a living for Sina's sake, surely they could obtain some information on the leaders of the anti-scout alliance and the perpetrators of the attacks. Some motherfucker knew something, and Levi was going to find out who, and what.

With a heavy exhale he turned back towards his two subordinates, who were watching him wearily, and pointedly avoiding one another's gaze.

"We got nothing." He said, "But whatever happened back there doesn't matter anymore. The only thing we need to be concerned with is is moving forward. Let's circle back to other taverns in the area, someone's bound to know something."

Petra only looked down to her boots again, but Oruo's face flickered with something.

"Uh, Captain…" The man began, then took a step forward, his right hand fishing in the pocket of his jacket, "We don't have nothing, sir."

Oruo held out a small business card.

Levi's shock was alive in Petra's expression where it'd failed to appear on his own. He approached Oruo and took the card from the man's hand, squinting at the ink.

"You should've led with this."

Oruo scratched the back of his head, mumbling;

"Right…I was waiting for your orders Cap-"

"A Pawn shop? They mention what's there?"

Face drawn, Oruo continued, "Right before our cover was blown, they told me to ask for Luis."

The metalworkers canteen was bustling with the afternoon rush, and Eld and Gunther had managed to secure a table in the corner of the loud room, where it was unlikely they'd be noticed or disturbed.

"That was close." Gunther mumbled over his tray of bland looking stew.

"Yeah." Eld agreed with something of a smirk.

Gunther narrowed his eyes, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

On their tour around Metalworks 108 and the nearby administration buildings with Edda (a blacksmith) Eld'd excused himself to go to the bathroom, only to instead pick the lock and slip into to the connected archive room. With only five minutes or so to scour the place for any evidence before raising suspicion with his absence, he hastily made his way around the tiny room, collecting a couple of interesting looking items from the folders belonging to the workers that Edda has specified had worked on the scouts' gear. When he'd then made to leave however, Edda and Gunther were suddenly and inexplicably stood directly outside the 'locked' door again.

Eld'd grit his teeth, certain he was done for: he'd broken into an archive room full of classified information and was holding some rolled up blueprints he'd swiped under his arm and the only way out was through a door what was meant to be locked. The second he waltzed through it he'd be clocked, and he didn't have any half decent excuse - which was unusual for him.

He'd creaked the door open and tried to catch Gunther's eye, to no avail. But, just when he'd thought he was out of options, something fantastic happened: Gunther started to flirt. The man rolled up his sleeves, tilted his head to one side and donned a lazy smile that looked wholly out of place on him. Momentarily dumbstruck by the bizarre display, Eld paused in the doorway until Gunther's eyes flicked to his with insistence…he had seen Eld hiding after all, and was now buying him time to slip away to stash the spoils before returning around the corner from the 'bathroom', mock-drying his hands on his trousers.

"Nothing. You just really pulled out the big guns is all. Which is great, they served us well in this case." Eld gestured vaguely to Gunther's arms, "Good thing you got those up your sleeve really."

Gunther scowled, "Huh?"

"The big guns? Sleeves? Because of…" Eld gestured to Gunther's arms again. "…Oh come on - that was a good one."

Gunther's scowl deepened, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure ya do. I'm talking about you becoming 'Mr Smooth' in the space of a split second." Eld imitated Gunther's booming, flirtatious laugh, then; "So… Edda…is that your natural hair colour?"

Through Gunther's scowl, his cheeks flushed crimson, "It was hot in there. We'd taken a tour of the smithy and I rolled up my sleeves because-"

"I've never seen you behave like that in the whole time I've known you. It was like watching a titan do ballet…totally surreal."

"I was biding you time to get out of that damn room unnoticed."

"Never thought I'd see the day when you were flirting with a woman and I was the one trying to come out of the closet."

Gunther's blush and scowl deepened, "I'd hardly call that flirting."

"Come on man, you might as well've asked her if heaven was missing an angel. Is that how you bagged James? Because with flirting as awkward as that I'm really starting to question how that all came together."

"It worked didn't it?!" Gunther petulantly folded his arms, "How'd you get in there so quick anyway? The room was locked."

Eld's smirk widened at Gunther's abrupt change of the subject. He couldn't torture his friend forever, entertaining as it was, they had shit to do.

"Remember that Sunday, late September-"

"You're asking if I remember an arbitrary Sunday three months ago."

"Not arbitrary. Notable. Notable because Captain Levi was in an unusually good mood."

Gunther raised a brow.

"Well, you'd gone off to the market with Petra, and the Captain taught me and Oruo a couple tricks of the trade."

"What do you mean? The underground trade? Illegal stuff?" The dark-haired man sounded concerned.

"Maria, the way you react you'd think he was teaching us drug trafficking. No, it was just some standard, useful back-pocket skills; how to quickly pick a lock, how to win an arm wrestle, how to throw a spinning knife at a sworn enemy with hawk-like precision…that sorta thing."

"…right." Gunther didn't look impressed, "So Captain Levi taught you to pick locks."

Eld nodded, "And it's a good thing too, or we might not've come across this."

The blonde pulled out a rolled up blueprint from inside his jacket and unfurled it between them across the table, which required some awkward reshuffling of their trays of food and water canteens. He deliberately placed it so it was right side up for Gunther, so the guy could read what'd struck Eld as interesting about the blueprint. It was fairly standard, but this one was doctored heavily in red ink and additional, pretty scrappy drawings. Eld watched his friend scan the document for a moment, then noted the moment when the man's eyes widened and he pointed at some of the inked scrawls.

"It - it's right here." He said, quietly flabbergasted, "It's all here."

"That's right." Eld gave a small, serious nod, "I couldn't believe it either. No way would it just be written down so plainly like that…and yet…"

"And this was just…there? In among the regular files?"

"It was in a specific file of a specific worker, and it was actually hidden at the back of a tab called 'medical records'; all the more reason I took it. Weird place for a blueprint to be, unless someone was trying to hide it."

Gunther cleared his throat, gave a cursory look around them, and when he was satisfied that no-one was paying them any attention, leant in, voice low, and read aloud;

"Insert three small nicks on the inside of each blade chamber; these should be invisible to the eye when scanned. Insert small pieces of metal in this shape (see fig. 5) to the mouth of the box, to be concealed under the top lip. These measures should somewhat obstruct removal of the blades." Gunther looked up at Eld, "It's sabotage."

"Sure is. Take a look at the top left corner."

Gunther squinted, and pulled the parchment up towards himself,

"Melvin Schuster." The man blinked a couple times, then searched Eld for something, "Is that…does something about that name sound familiar to you?"

Again Eld nodded sagely, "Yeah, but it's not coming to me why yet. I guess we gotta find this Melvin guy and ask him some questions."

Petra could barely keep up with him. Oruo was behind her, and she could hear his wheezing over their clattering footsteps through Ehrmich's winding back alleys. That two soldiers in peak physical condition, in the most well-regarded squad of the most perilous regiment were lagging behind so much…it reinforced the popular notion that there was just something innately different about their Captain, right down to his DNA.

Almost from the moment the name 'Luis' had left Oruo's lips, Levi'd bolted with barely so much as a "Let's move" to the pair.

As she ran, pain rocketing up each of her exhausted limbs and sweat foully clinging to her, she batted away her intrusive experience at the bar with wondering how Levi knew so precisely where he was going. There was a chance, she supposed, that he'd frequented Ehrmich when on business with the officers, enough to know its layout. Unlikely though, as the scouts business was usually conducted in Mitras, with Premier Zackley present.

Oruo pulled up alongside her, his bagged eyes flicking across to her periodically and his baggy brown suit billowing with the speed of their racing. They rounded a corner, and still he looked across. Petra began to realise that his eyes were not quite at her eye-line, but were instead focused quite significantly lower, in her chest region.

"Oruo," She spat between pants, "You pervert-"

"Wha-" He paled, and cold beads of sweat formed on his brow, "I wasn't - It's not what you-"

They rounded another corner, and at the end of this dank alley, a high wrought iron fence.

Up ahead, Levi did not slow down, rather he sped up, scaled and vaulted it with ease. Petra frowned. She sped up and jumped, but found herself sweating buckets, heaving herself up the fence, Oruo by her side.

While they struggled, Levi was disappearing into the shadows of the street ahead.

Keeping her voice low she ranted hushedly;

"I've had it up to here-" Petra quickly realised there was nothing to gesture to, then pointed angrily to the top of the fence, "With lecherous, disgusting, entitled-"

"Petra!" Oruo interrupted, dragging himself to the top, "Necklace. You have a new necklace."

Oh.

She glanced down at the small silver heart at the end of its fine chain. It must've bounced out from under the neckline of her dress while she ran.

She looked at Oruo for a moment, and he looked back. She quickly tucked the necklace back underneath the fabric of the dress.

"We're gonna lose him." She said firmly.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." He retorted, extending a hand and yanking Petra to the top.

Together, they jumped down the other side and started running again. A stitch burned in her gut, but she fought the urge to keel over. He couldn't be that far ahead.

"…what…uh…"

"Jeez Oruo would you just be quiet! We're on a mission if you hadn't noticed!"

At the end of the alleyway they stopped. Some passers-by wandered up and down the small street they'd ended up on. Horses hooves clopped pulling a rickety carriage over cobbles. No sign of him. Petra's head flitted left and right, scanning the dark road for his most likely path.

She huffed, "Can you see him? Any idea which way he went?"

A young couple laughed gaily and looked lovingly into one another's eyes as they passed under a street lamp. The woman was wearing a large floppy brimmed red hat, the man a tailored suit. Still nothing. Petra turned over her shoulder to Oruo who was moodily leant against a wall, arms crossed, eyes down.

"Oruo?!" She barked.

His eyes flicked to hers petulantly.

"What's wrong with you?" She pressed.

He pursed his lips, but only a few seconds passed before the sentence burst from him tetchily; "You told me to be quiet ok? You can't ask me to be quiet and then ask me a bunch of questions!"

Petra took an irritated step in, "I just meant-" Her shoulders dropped a little and she took a breath, "I just meant we need to stay focused on what we're doing. We've lost the trail."

With a low grumble Oruo pushed himself off the wall and swept past her onto the street. Petra watched him, brow twitching furiously.

He stopped a passerby and asked something, and the man pointed down the street diagonally. Oruo turned, face still grim and beckoned Petra.

"This way." He muttered and began pacing up the street.

"…what exactly did you ask him? 'Did you happen to see a speeding blur in a cravat just now'?"

Oruo drew out his words lazily as he plodded,

"Don't be ridiculous. Obviously I asked him the way to Caulfielde Pawn shop. Said I had a necklace to exchange." Petra pulled a face. "He told me it was shut now of course, but I reckon if we head over there we'll run into the Captain."

She blinked. A pang of guilt pulled at her. She knew she had a tendency to overlook Oruo a little. They all did, due to his general nonsense.

"I told you I wouldn't let us lose him." Oruo continued, "Also I figured we should keep to a brisk walk. If we rush down these streets we'll only draw attention to ourselves. When we get there we can search the surrounding area in case the he's waiting for us."

"He won't be." She replied, somewhat darkly.

Levi, for all his brilliance at bringing together and conducting the squad, always had to go off by himself. It was a point where they differed intrinsically from one another. He would say it was safer, that he was stronger and that there would be fewer casualties that way, but Petra still felt like it was needlessly reckless. He was her hero…he was so many people's hero, and his strength was indisputable, but his reluctance to accept help or work consistently as part of a team occasionally irked her. They were there because he trusted them, trained them up himself, so to still barrel off alone the second they fell slightly behind…

"Then we'll assess the situation when we arrive." Oruo added flatly.

Winding ways turned ahead of them and they mostly walked in silence. Street lamps burned, drunks shouted, stray cats sprinted from behind bins. The streets were emptying the nearer they drew to the shop. The air thickened or fizzed with something too, and it felt as though cheap curtains twitched as they walked. Whenever Petra checked however, there was nothing.

"Is your leg ok?"

Oruo's question took her aback, they'd been quiet for so long. And she hadn't realised he'd noticed.

"It's…uh fine, just a scratch from where he ripped my dress. Thanks."

"It's bleeding."

"Just a little. It's stopped now."

"…back at the tavern…what happened?"

Petra had never heard him sound quite so timid.

"They…" The cobbles in the road were suddenly the most interesting thing to her, "They asked me if the carpet matched the drapes."

He caught her eye and she caught his again. She felt the need to clarify;

"It's a euphemism."

"I - I know." He folded his arms across his chest; hunched, and sort of nervy.

"I mean, surely they weren't asking about that tavern carpet…I've never seen such a hideously decorated-"

"And, and, then they uh…" Oruo swallowed tightly, struggling more with his words than she'd ever seen before, "What did they do after?"

For a few steps she just watched him. He was making it clear that he either didn't want to or couldn't look at her. They turned another corner, at the end of the little street of low houses stood a church. It wasn't big by any means, but lit by the moon and starlight as a beacon at the end of the path it was somewhat imposing; eerily beautiful.

"They grabbed me." She focused on the road ahead again, "One pulled up my skirt, the other grabbed me um. Up. Further up."

Petra wasn't sure why she found it so hard to tell him these details. Perhaps it was that she was always so used to minimising her own problems for others' comfort and hoping they wouldn't press her further. But that had never really been the case with Oruo. She'd always been brutally honest with him.

"When I went to move to get them off that's when my dress ripped. I grabbed a bottle and uh…you know what happened then…"

They'd paced exactly three steps before he stopped abruptly and grabbed his hair, his face screwed up tight.

"Fffffuck." He growled, his voice growing louder, "Those bastards!"

"Oruo!" She grabbed his wrists, "It's ok now it's-"

"No it's - no it's fucking not. They took advantage-"

"Yes they did - but they didn't get very far did they?"

She searched him, trying to get him to open his eyes, to take his hands out of his hair and look at her, but she failed.

"Fuck! We're meant to protect you from shit like that - it's fucking-"

"Oruo! Keep your voice down! People are looking."

Small hazel eyes opening he scanned the street, two people looked on through their windows, one was stood in a doorway to their house.

Oruo threw his arms from her grasp and walked on ahead, shaking his head. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve while she caught up to him. For all his attempts to be like Levi, he could never be. Given the smallest prod, emotion poured out from him like a waterfall. Stoic, Oruo was not.

"It's not ok Petra." He muttered, "It's not ok. I let you down."

Cool night air filled her nostrils, and she was measured,

"You didn't let me down, you've never…but…" Another slow breath, "I don't need you to protect me. Any of you. I dealt with it."

He remained quiet. Whether he was taking in her words, or thinking about what had transpired before, was unclear.

She thought briefly of Hannah and Jules.

"You know me better than anyone. Do you really think I'd let those guys get away with it? Don't you think I'm strong enough to defend myself in a situation like that?"

Still he didn't respond. They were nearing the church. Small pebbles skittered along the road as he kicked them.

Petra wrung her hands, "I appreciate you sticking up for me. I always have. But we're a team - you nearly got decked back there yourself…would you say that I let you down in that situation?"

His voice was quiet, "No, but…"

"But nothing. We look out for each other, we've got each other's backs and we do our best. Those guys were assholes, but they weren't the first assholes I've knocked out in my life you know."

"Yeah." He said wryly, pointing his thumb to his chest, "You knocked this asshole out cold in cadets - week two of sparring training."

A fond smile blossomed on her lips, "Surprised you remembered. That concussion lasted a few days."

"I'll have you know I wasn't concussed. And I let you hit me."

"Yeah right, like how you let me bend your arm all the way around until it almost popped out of the socket?"

"Yeah. I let you. I'd let you do anything Petra."

They stopped dead in the street again. On her old friend's face, a look of complete resignation. A slight breeze stirred her short bob. The lines around his mouth drew deeper.

"…but it's nice to hear that you appreciate me."

Petra's heart was beating in her ears. The world at once was crashing and melting all around her, and at the same time it was simply an immeasurably still night on a cold street in Ehrmich district.

Always brutally honest with him, was she?

Petra was a bad friend. And she was a bad person. She would be lying if she stood there in her ripped dress and said to him that she'd never once noticed his affection. No; she'd noticed it and she'd done the same thing she always did to Oruo: she'd overlooked it, overlooked him. Pushed it away. Not taken him seriously. If she didn't pay it any mind, then the truth of it couldn't fully develop into a problem she needed to solve; it simply didn't exist, it wasn't. She could always find the plausible deniability about it, she'd been doing it for years. Her ability to deny it was at this point, an art form.

But, here he stood, demanding that she didn't ignore it any more.

"I'm uh…I'm sorry that that happened to you. At the tavern." He scratched the back of his head, like he always did.

"Oruo…"

"You don't have to say anything. I know you don't feel the same way about me. You never did. Didn't matter how much I wished…"

His eyes skimmed the ground. Her heart ached and pulled in her chest. For the first time, she wished she did too. It felt like it would be so much easier to love him fully than it would be to break his heart. But this man's heart was already broken. She broke it by ignoring what she knew to be true. Perhaps hearing it from her was his way out. Perhaps he could get some closure this way.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

What for, she wasn't entirely sure. There were so many things she could apologise to him for.

Tears brimmed, lining her lashes. Oruo's eyes were sunken and dark, but they shone a little with gratitude.

"I do love you Oruo, just…not like…"

"Levi." He spoke suddenly.

"Huh?" Blood rushed to her cheeks, "I - don't-"

Oruo gestured with his head to behind her. Petra turned around to see a short figure stood, hands in pockets, in front of the gates to the moonlit church. Breath caught in her throat. When did he…?

"Come on." Oruo muttered and grabbed her sleeve, dragging her alongside him towards the short figure.

Through the dark, their Captain's grey eyes pierced them, and as they got nearer, Petra noticed a small, brand new cut under his sharp cheekbone. Much less pristine than when she'd last seen him, he was somewhat dishevelled, and his voice cut crisply;

"Thought you'd be at the pawn shop by now. What took you?"

"We lost your trail sir." Oruo replied.

"I took a detour."

It was all he said. Bringing a hand out from his pocket he gestured with a thumb down the new street to a row of darkened shops. Hanging signs squealed on their hinges in the light night breeze. The third shop along, dimly lit by the stars and a single flickering street lamp opposite it, said:

CAULFIELDE PAWN SHOP

Pushing aside the gravity of the conversation she'd had with Oruo, Petra opened her mouth to ask for orders, but Levi had leant over and pulled up the leg of his suit trousers. Strapped to his calf above his sock, a brown belt with a loop holding a short knife. He swiftly removed it and repeated the action on the other side while his subordinates watched on, astounded.

How many other weapons did he have concealed about his tiny frame? Guns? Swords? Cannons? She almost wouldn't put it past him. In a moment of madness, Petra considered asking. Luckily, he beat her to speaking,

"Maybe it's a good thing you hadn't arrived yet." He said handing each of them the handle to a small knife, "Better you're equipped in case. We might not have our ODM gear, but we'll still have the upper hand with these."

Oruo quietly took the knife with a nod, but he seemed a little uneasy.

Petra mirrored her friend, locking her amber eyes to his steel, "…you really think we'll need these? They aren't titans sir. They're people."

"They're people who wouldn't hesitate for a second to blow off scouts heads with those short-barrelled guns of theirs. Assume a worst case scenario. Do you think they're gonna invite us in for tea? That's not how this works."

The underground bled through his words. It bled through him entirely.

Where had that cut on his cheek come from? The elbows of his nice black suit were scuffed and dusty. If Petra looked closely, a small spatter of blood marred his collar, and his breathing was noticeable…usually he was silent and statuesque, carved granite, even on the run…but…

"Captain, where did you-"

"Hide the weapons about your person. Somewhere they can be easily removed if needed. Let me do the talking." Levi turned and began walking towards the shop;

"Let's move."

Petra and Oruo glanced at one another worriedly.

"I hate it when he does that." She mumbled.

Melvin Schuster hadn't been hard to find, and he hadn't been expecting company. Especially the kind of company that were going to sneak up behind him, tie him up, gag him and drag him off to an abandoned stock warehouse that Edda pointed out as part of their factory tour. Or maybe he did expect that type of company…Eld didn't like to kink shame.

Melvin had dark hair and days old stubble. Young for a metalworker, but tired-looking behind his thick goggles. His pretty small build made the whole 'kidnap and drag him off' schtick a lot easier for the two scouts to achieve; once he'd rounded the corner behind a building and no-one was around, it didn't take much until he was incapacitated and bound to a chair in the dusty old warehouse.

"mghh…" The man mumbled uncomfortably through his gag.

"Yeah give us a second Melvy. Can I call ya Melvy?"

Melvin scowled.

"Ima take that as a no."

Eld unfurled the blueprint, while Gunther tightened the ropes fixing the guy's hands to the chair. Eld quirked a brow, remembering when the rest of the Special Ops squad had kidnapped him and tied him to a chair inside the Night of the Wraiths festival effigy. At least he knew from experience that Gunther-tied ropes weren't easy to get out of, or he never would've lost his goatee that fateful day.

"Right then." Gunther dusted off his hands, "First things first." He pulled the gag from out of Melvin's mouth, the slammed his hands down on the guys arms and glared intensely at him.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?!"

Gunther yelled it straight into Melvin's face.

"Ah - er…" Eld frowned from where he stood behind the chair and caught Gunther's eye, "Can I have a word?"

Gunther snorted, then stood up straight again, releasing Melvin's arms but throwing him a final intimidating look for good measure.

"Whats up?" He asked Eld quietly off to the side.

"Don't you think you're going in a little strong?"

Gunther grimaced, "I thought we agreed I was bad cop?"

"Sure. But maybe ease up on the yelling from the get go? Think of Hange's bad cop, all two seconds of it that we saw…" Eld waved his hand around vaguely, "Quiet, intimidating…a little unhinged. Right now you're going full unhinged. Build it up…or I dunno. We haven't even asked him a single question."

"I just did."

"That wasn't…" Eld sighed, "Just ease up ok?"

"Sure. Got it."

Eld and Gunther stalked back round in front of Melvin, who scoffed.

"Who are you two bozos then?"

"We're the two bozo's that kidnapped your sorry ass!" Gunther roared, "Wasn't very hard either you brainless-"

"Chill!" Eld grabbed Gunther's arm, "'Quiet and intimidating!' Honestly, I really thought that you'd nail that brief."

Gunther nodded and pressed his mouth into a hard line. He slowly raised his hands and took a step back, choosing instead to linger behind Eld, who shook his head.

"Ok." Eld held out the unfurled blueprint in front of Melvin, "Do you wanna tell me what this is?"

Melvin raised a single eyebrow, "Or what?"

Eld sighed again, "So it's gonna be like that huh?" He rolled the blueprint up again and handed it back to Gunther who was still glowering intimidatingly from behind him.

"Listen, Melvo, we caught ya already. I mean, what kind of simpleton writes his goddamn name on the evidence? The whole reason we're here is to give you an opportunity."

Melvin simply stared at him emptily. Eld crossed his arms.

"An opportunity to tell us why you sabotaged scout equipment before we shop you off to Nile Dok. I figure you can't have done this all by yourself. Someone must've helped you out…or maybe pressured you into it."

"They're gonna come looking for me soon." Melvin said, ignoring Eld entirely.

"Is that so? We better make this quick then." He stooped down beside Melvin's chair and put a comradely arm around the guy, "Come on. Why'd you do it?"

"Nice try bozo." Melvin sneered.

Eld playfully punched the Melvin's arm, "Rats. That always works on my brother Elias."

Eld caught Gunther's eyes briefly widen, then return to scowling, but something was ticking away through his mind. Huh.

"Fine Mel, you got me." Eld stood up and held up his hands, "I've never really done anything like this before. And I'm not a natural, clearly." He smiled, "One thing I will say for myself though; I'm pretty damn lucky as fellas go."

Melvin scoffed, "Sure you are blondie."

"I am." Eld continued to smile, casually pacing around the chair, "For starters I found your little 'designs' over there in under five minutes in among the files. Then I found you pretty swiftly afterwards. So, and I'm really just spitballing but, I'm guessing it won't be long until I find out what the hell's going on here."

"Scouts are dead." Gunther spoke plainly, "Because of you. Whole squads taken out by faulty gear you constructed."

For the first time some emotion flitted through Melvin's face.

"Why?" Gunther pressed. He stood strong as an ox, formidable, unmovable in front of his foe.

Again Melvin said nothing.

Eld frowned, taking a step nearer and scrutinising the man,

"Does that not mean anything to you? Countless lives ruined. Why do something like that? It doesn't make any sense."

"…titans…" The man uttered. His goggles had steamed up a bit.

"What?"

"They're dead because…because of titans. Not…because of me."

A crash sounded as Gunther smash-kicked a nearby rotting barrel, which collapsed into a splintered heap.

"They're dead because they couldn't use their fucking gear!" Gunther bellowed hotly. His voice reverberated around the hollow warehouse. He stood, shaky in the aftermath of his outburst.

All three men let the dust settle slowly. When silence had fully fallen once again, Melvin muttered;

"So…you're scouts. I guessed as much."

Eld clenched his jaw. Part of their slapped together plan was to reveal as little as possible about themselves, while trying to uncover as much as they could before returning to the compound with the blueprint. Well, it wasn't going too well. They'd learned almost nothing so far, but this guy had learned something about them. Then again, maybe hiding their identities wasn't all that important. Melvin certainly seemed to respond to the consequences of what he'd done, even show a little remorse. He wasn't giving off the 'evil-genius psycho' impression either, more like…disgruntled employee…disregarded nerd…

"You know Melvin, you don't strike me as the type to want to cause the deaths of so many soldiers."

Melvin's lips quivered a little as he opened them, "I didn't cause the deaths of anyone."

"Of course you did, that's not even a question." Eld rebutted.

"No, I-"

"So you're telling me you didn't redesign and construct this gear to make it faulty?"

"…"

"It's got your name on man. I mean, you might as well've carved a little portrait of yourself onto each vandalised blade box above the phrase 'Melvo was here.'"

"It's not like I'm head designer of gear. The gear I build makes up less than a fifth of what gets shipped out to the scouts."

Gunther growled unblinking, "So - It doesn't matter to you that a fifth of soldiers riding out on the last expedition were so slowed down by your 'project' that they couldn't remove their weapons in time before they were crushed to death?"

For a minute, Melvin was quiet again. Then he mumbled;

"…how many?"

Eld flickered, "Huh?"

"…how many…died…on the expedition?"

"In total, A hundred and two."

Melvin swallowed.

"A hundred and two lives." Eld reiterated, "But that doesn't come close to the number of lives destroyed by your neglect. It's also a hundred and two families and friends mourning the losses of those they'll never see again."

"They chose to be scouts." Melvin's voice was small, "They would've died at some point."

Gunther jolted, then refrained himself.

Eld narrowed his eyes, "Every living thing dies at some point. That doesn't mean you should help it along. There's a word for that: manslaughter."

Melvin sniffed.

Eld looked across at Gunther, "We're not gonna get anything out of him. Let him go down for the whole thing, I don't care anymore. Let's go back to base."

Gunther nodded grimly and walked towards Melvin, pulling the gag up towards his mouth.

"Wait-" Melvin began, "The anti-scout alliance. They…you should talk to them."

"Did they commission you?" Eld needled.

Melvin looked conflicted, "Something like that."

"Ok. And how exactly would one go about 'talking' to them?"

"They have a base in Ehrmich…" Melvin swallowed tightly, "A pawn shop by a church. I can't remember it's name." He looked squarely into Eld's eyes, "I didn't tell you this. You figured it out another way, got it?"

Eld narrowed his eyes, "Guess I'm pretty lucky."

Melvin nodded slowly, "I guess you are."

With a deep inhale Eld gestured to Gunther, "Gag him. We'll dump him to the MP's and head to Ehrmich."

Gunther nodded, "I just have one final question for him, if that's ok." He turned to face Melvin, "Do you have any brothers?"

Didn't take long for Levi to pick the lock of the dank, empty seeming shop. A rusty bell dinged as they shoved through the door. Dusty paraphernalia lay scattered about, half lit from the street lamp casting its eerie glow through the large shop window. Along the right hand wall was a long wooden counter. The door creaked and shut somewhat violently behind Oruo, who jumped.

Levi shot him a warning look, then returned his attention to the room.

"Luis…?" He asked, hand curling around the handle of the knife in his pocket, "You here? Got some…business to discuss with you."

The room responded with silent gloom.

Levi approached the counter and began snooping near the till. There had to be some documents or evidence of the alliance. Anything.

Petra drew a finger along the arm of a broken, rickety old chandelier piled on top of some books. Light from the street danced through its glass teardrops and she frowned at Levi, presenting the thick layer of dust that she'd swiped from the metal's surface.

"I can't imagine they make any money here." She said, "Who in their right mind would buy any of this broken, dusty-"

"It's clearly a front my dear." Oruo preened, lifting a chipped old vase to study it in the low light, "Who needs to resell wares when you can sell lies about the scouts, right Captain?"

Levi ignored him, instead digging the end of his knife into a slat in the run-down old till, which sprang open, ringing another high-pitched bell. The drawer was empty. Levi blinked.

Petra smiled, "Taking some pocket money to spend on more tea rations are we Captain?"

He fired her a hard look, "It's empty."

"You didn't answer my…"

Levi turned away, and began further searching the counter area.

"…question." Petra finished uncertainly.

A loud cacophonous chord rang out and they snapped their heads to Oruo, who'd sat on a derelict piano and immediately stood up again, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

"…thought it was broken…" He mumbled at the two scowling faces.

"And you decided to test out that theory by sitting on it?" Petra fired back.

Oruo pulled a face at her and turned away to nose around an outdated jewellery cabinet.

"Well; if it isn't 'humanity's strongest'."

From behind a door in in the back wall a man appeared. Smallish build, dark brown hair that was a little wild, heavy eye bags, unshaven and wholly unkempt, his white shirt was half unbuttoned and hanging off him, and he looked like he stank of smoke and booze. The image brought back memories of a tall man in a wide brimmed hat; memories Levi'd rather forget.

"Luis Schuster." Levi uttered, hopping easily back over the counter onto the main shop floor.

"Nice to see you dressed for the occasion, ankle-biter." Luis gestured to him.

"Wish I could say the same for you." Levi shot back. "You look like you rolled out the gutter. Shitstain."

From the corner of his eye he made out Petra and Oruo flitting between the two men in utmost confusion.

"Wait…" Petra muttered, "Schuster…Luis Schuster…" She glanced at Oruo who'd arrived at the same conclusion and finished off her thought,

"The dirty MP from the case last year…"

Luis smirked, "Didn't tell tweedle-dumb and tweedle-knee high who you were looking for? I'm devastated Levi, I thought I meant more to you."

"That why you indoctrinated grieving parents and convinced them to open fire on scouts? To get my attention? How sad."

Luis's smile widened, "Successful though wasn't it? You're finally here." He ran a hand through his greasy hair, "Kidding aside Levi, I didn't indoctrinate them, and no scouts were killed in those attacks."

Oruo snarled, "They would've been if we hadn't-"

Luis waved his hand idly;

"I simply helped people to see the survey corps for the sham that it is. Really, if you think about it, it was the scouts themselves that indoctrinated their children and loved ones with promises of freedom, when in reality their kids are little more than fodder to reduce demand for supplies within the walls. Only those idiotic enough to buy into Erwin Smith's deception join up." He flashed a sinisterly jovial look to Petra and Oruo, "Present company excluded, I'm sure."

"So, that's what this is…" Levi remarked, "Take down the scouts as revenge on Erwin, on me, for getting you banged up and losing your job?"

"Oh no no Levi, see, I don't need a job in the Military Police. I have friends and family everywhere; and now I'm simply a humble pawn shop owner." He gave a polite bow, "In fact, if you see anything here you like I'd be more than happy to give you money off. Call it a 'fool's discount.'"

Levi tightened his grip on the knife in his pocket, but his expression didn't so much as flicker.

"You always did like to run your filthy mouth. Damn trial dragged on for hours because of it. I guess six months behind bars wasn't long enough to shut you up. Rest assured this time, you'll go away for much longer."

"On what grounds? I'm yet to see any evidence of my supposed crimes."

"A quick sweep of this place's back room and these two witnesses to your little speech would beg otherwise." Levi nodded towards Petra and Oruo.

Luis stepped further into the room, "Ah, yes. But what you've done there 'Captain' is made an assumption that they will be leaving this place in tact."

Levi's eyes widened rapidly, "Get down!"

Two shots fired from each side of the room, and Petra and Oruo just about eluded them. One bullet obliterated a rickety old cabinet, and the other left a smoking hole in the wall above the counter. From the dark corners, men appeared instantly like phantoms phasing into view, a couple of them armed with the same bullet belts and short-barrelled guns from the attack on the compound.

Shit.

—

Oruo was sweating, he basically hadn't stopped since they ran out of the Three Bucks an hour or so ago. He was certain that he'd felt the speeding bullet graze the top few curls of his head.

"Hey 'Karl', long time no see."

"Sverre."

Oruo barely had time to gulp with dread before Sverre picked him up, yelled, "Accountancy this!", and launched him towards the jewellery cabinet, which smashed to debris as he crashed through it.

Oruo grimaced in pain, then, bursting out from the wreckage and barked,

"This is my best suit you motherfucker!"

Grabbing his knife and spinning it smoothly in hand, he charged back towards the stocky trio he'd met at the tavern.

—

Petra'd found herself in between a pair of assailants throwing wildly inaccurate punches in her direction. They didn't appear to be that well-trained in combat, but they were still bigger and stronger than her, so she needed to be careful. Levi'd taught her that. "Don't get complacent", he'd said, brown boot on her neck, her arm twisted back behind her and her wrist in his firm grasp. Something about it'd turned her on. Perhaps that was why she never forgot the lesson.

One of the pair of attackers carried a gun, but luckily, as she'd learned once before, these guns needed to be reloaded after each shot using the canisters on their belts, and that took a few moments. Before he could so much as reach down, Petra aimed a spectacular high kick that sent the revolver spinning through the air where it landed somewhere off in a puff of dust and broken wood of some ruined antique.

The next thing she knew, the knife Levi'd given her was in her hand, the blade glinting in tandem with the amber in her eyes as she lashed out madly, ripping through the sleeves of one of the men's shirts and leaving him a with a deep bleeding gash in his arm; "Argh!"

—

Locked in close combat, Levi's subordinates were thriving. It hadn't taken them long to each get the upper hand against their opponents even though they were outnumbered nearly three to one.

It was obvious to Levi that Luis was going to use this ruckus as a smokescreen to escape. It was Villain 101.

As expected, Levi'd spotted the slimy bastard slip out through the back door the second after the guns had fired, and no way in three walls was he letting the guy go. He sprinted towards the exit, punching one of Oruo's assailants square in the jaw en route. The man dropped to the ground, instantly unconscious.

Barely through the back door into the stock room, Levi's instincts kicked in: he jumped and rolled forward under a table in the middle of the room, out of the way of a stack of falling crates. No doubt they'd been pushed by Luis. The asshole fired a gun and the bullet glanced off the top of the table. Luis took a second to reload, and Levi used that dreg of time to launch the table from his position beneath it right as the gun fired again. This bullet ricocheted off the moving wood and into the wall, and Luis collapsed in a heap beneath the plank of split timber.

"Thought you could get away from me?" Levi growled, grabbing a fistful of Luis's greasy ass hair, and yanking him upwards with it, out from the table's detritus.

"Underground city scum, that's all you are." Luis spat back, "You don't belong here. You know it, I know it, Nile and Erwin know it - hell, even that little ginger fireball out there knows-"

Levi's knee made violent contact with Luis's gut. He coughed and spluttered, then spit hung out of his mouth in a long thin line which connected his lips to the filthy floor.

"Keep up the chatter if you want. We'll see how long you have a tongue left to flap."

—

On the shop floor Oruo held his ground as Sverre ran at him. At the very last second, Oruo side-stepped out of the way, leaving a speeding Sverre to crash head-first into the piano to a jarring composition of notes and clanging.

Oruo smirked and fluffed his cravat, "You were a little off key."

From across the room he spotted Petra, who was stood opposite a guy on the shop counter embroiled in fisticuffs. Sina damn it all! That was the coolest thing he'd ever said and she wasn't anywhere near enough to hear it.

Ducking and elbowing his current opponent in the neck he made to help Petra, right as her rival grabbed her shoulders and threw her off the counter into the middle of the room, where she landed in a heap on top of him.

Grumbling, the pair came to, only to find themselves surrounded.

—

Petra slowly stood, her back touching Oruo's as they surveyed three men that encircled them. At least if they went out now they'd done well: two of their attackers now lay unconscious on the ground, and both the guns were out of play.

"So," Oruo spoke under his breath, "When are you gonna tell me where you got the necklace from?"

Petra scowled, "You really don't have any sense of what's appropriate do you?"

"What can I say, I'm a curious man. It's one of my many wonderful traits."

The time for Oruo's candidness was over apparently. He'd returned to where he felt most comfortable: boast mode.

Their opponents circled them antagonistically.

"Maybe one of your many 'wonderful traits' could be learning when to bite your tongue. And no, I don't mean that literally."

One of the men rushed in, and Oruo decked him, while Petra lashed out at another with her knife. Over his shoulder, Oruo fired his next question:

"Do you love him?"

Petra's mouth went dry.

"…who?"

She ducked under a punch and pushed her attacker out the way.

It was a stupid response to his question. He knew she knew the answer to it. And the very fact of her asking it showed that she still wasn't being completely honest with him.

Oruo grabbed the shortest of the men's arms and flipped him to the ground. The guy groaned. Petra dodged another attack and kicked her assailant over.

Then the two scouts were once again stood back to back.

"Any imbecile with a pair of eyes can see that he loves you." He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Believe me when I say: I know what it looks like."

Petras heart was thudding.

Through her mind's eye, flashing images of the night she'd just spent with Levi, bathing, kissing, fucking. At the end of it all, her Captain producing a small box, the feel of his fingertips ghosting the back of her neck as he fastened the clasp. Now, the feel of the cool silver heart resting on the skin of her chest beneath her dress.

Their three opponents were gathering themselves and circling them again, conferring, dusting themselves down.

"As I said before." She replied, "This is hardly an appropriate time."

"Ho, ho, ho!" Oruo exclaimed with his signature swagger, "My dear, I'm merely ascertaining your contentment with the situation. It would be uncouth of me to allow a lady to be romanced by someone she had no intention of marrying."

"Do you know?" She responded acidly, "I physically can't roll my eyes that far back."

The time for conferring was almost up.

"Tell me you're happy."

Over their shoulders, Petra and Oruo caught eyes.

"I'm happy Oruo."

He gave her a tight lipped nod in response, "I'll concede to the better man."

They had a matter of seconds. The men's eyes flashed and their fists twitched. Grunting, they nodded to one another and began to move towards the two scouts.

"Hey, Petra!" Oruo shouted, "I got your back!"

Then, linking his arms in hers he leant forward, balancing her on his back and began to spin around, allowing Petra to kick each one of the attackers right in the head. Teeth, spit and blood sprayed from the faces of the men as her boots made contact with their skulls. She found herself smiling, one half of some deadly, deeply unenjoyable fairground ride: at least for its customers. She and Oruo really did make a good team.

Moment's later Oruo put her down and stood up dizzily, all the while the three attackers groaned from the floorboards.

Petra glanced at him; "Nice work."

He smiled, though his complexion was pallid and a little green, "S'why they call me the best damn soldier in the-"

From out of nowhere Sverre appeared and smashed the chipped vase over Oruo's head. He dropped to the ground like a stone.

"Shut the fuck up." Sverre growled.

"Oruo!" Petra cried.

From behind her an arm was thrown around her front and she was dragged backwards, a man's large, sweaty hand smothering her mouth. The doorbell dinged, and in ran five more men in scraggy, dark outfits, carrying an assortment of weapons that appeared to range from knives to lead pipes. Holy walls: not good. Where in hell were all these assholes coming from?

Petra flailed, to no avail. One man smirked at her, then began dragging Oruo's passed out body away. She wailed desperately through her captor's hand, trying to wake Oruo, as the other strangers made their way to the back door of the shop, the one Levi and Luis had disappeared through.

Petra kicked her legs, biting the hand of whoever had grabbed her. She would claw, punch and boot her way out of this to help her friend if that's what it took. But the man didn't let go, instead he crushed his huge arm tighter and tighter around Petra's ribs. She shrieked in pain.

In front of her, a body flew through the air, smashing through the large window of the shop front. Glass cracked fell like a wide waterfall out into the street.

Air rapidly evacuating her lungs as pressure increased around her, Petra fought to catch her breath through the man's hand. Another body went flying, crashing through the broken chandelier and piled up books in the centre of the room. Then more of them, three, four men, thrashing and kicking in a tumultuous scuffle.

Black spots began dancing in her eyes as she fought to focus, clawing at her captor's arm. One more body hit the ground and from behind it, Levi.

For a split second their eyes caught. His: blue, white, grey, sparking like midnight jewels, cold, hard, flat. Not a speck of fear graced them.

"Pet." She saw his lips move and felt her fire burn hotter within. Dredging up all she could muster, she threw the leaden weight of her leg backwards into the man in a feeble attempt to kick him off balance. She failed.

Levi was immediately embroiled again, flawlessly flooring whoever stepped into his path, but even so there were too many of them, and they kept getting back up.

The pain in Petra's ribs was now unbearable and her flailing limbs were rapidly draining of their power. She was becoming so oxygen-starved that she couldn't even gasp in pain. Body growing limp and useless, the dim street light through the shop front began to blur outwards, bleeding into her vision, and more black spots began to dance around it.

Was this how she went out? Life crushed from her ribs, just like so many scouts before her?

She supposed she'd always thought she'd go fighting side by side with her Captain, ridding the world of demons, but, she'd always secretly hoped it was somewhere green, and somewhere fresh. Somewhere where she could rest in a lush field between the trees, red hair splayed among the daisies, eyes up to the clear blue sky, to wherever she was headed. She hoped her friends would be there waiting for her. Then she could apologise for not taking down the motherfuckers who sabotaged them. Her eyes dropped shut.

…

Not a second later a high whooshing sound passed by her left ear, and she felt herself collapse heavily to the ground.

Vision still blurred she rolled onto her back, disorientated. Her face was being touched, moved, a firm thumb and forefinger gripping her chin. Sweat seemed to be pouring from her forehead and she forced her glassy eyes to focus on his face.

"Look at me." Levi said gruffly, "You're alright."

It was his eyes again, the same as they were before, only, much nearer, much deeper. Like staring into two still mountain pools. A weak smile grew across her lips.

"L-Levi…" She croaked, the pain in her shredded throat like sawing bread knives.

"You're alright." He reiterated, and she lifted her weak hand to his cheek. He stopped it with his own, but gave hers a gentle squeeze, then helped her to sit up, which, given the extortionate pain in her ribs, proved to be very difficult and slow process.

She couldn't tear her gaze from his face; his beautiful features specially chiselled by the goddesses, his dark, soft hair, the sharp point of his little nose and the bags framing his eyes. That she might not've seen that tired, deceptively young-looking face again…her ribs felt like they were cracking and splitting, and she cried out as she finally managed to sit up fully and he stabilised her with a hand on her lower back. It was then that she saw his hard expression flicker for the first and only time the entire evening; for a minuscule moment, she saw fear in his eyes.

"Petra." He said again, though it was unclear why.

"I'm…Oruo!" She gasped, grasping the front of Levi's sweat and dust covered shirt firmly. Somewhere along the way he must've lost his jacket.

"You're Oruo? Get this one to the medical tent right away, she's in dire need of assistance."

Petra looked up to see Eld stood over her, hand on his hips, and Gunther just behind.

"Yeah." Gunther added, "No way can the squad function with two Oruo's."

Petra's eyes widened.

"Oruo's fine." Levi said, still crouched at her side, and notably not removing her grasping hand from his shirt, "Out cold, likely concussed, but he's fine."

It was only then that she noticed them. MP's, there must've been around fifteen or so, wandering around the rubble of the shop's interior with torches, cuffing and dragging the half-conscious bodies of the anti-scout alliance out into the street.

"…when…?" She rasped.

"You can thank me later small fry." Eld said with a nod, "I'm gonna say that the payment for saving your life is one cold beer."

Petra blinked in confusion, "…huh?"

"Is that right?" Levi glanced up toward the blonde, "Then I must be owed several barrels-worth at least. Not that I'd accept it, mind. But you can start with a crate of premium tea."

Eld cocked a brow, "Touché, Captain. Touché."

Petra slowly let go of Levi's shirt. "Eld…you saved me? How?"

Gunther answered for him, "He threw a spinning knife at a sworn enemy with hawk like precision."

"That's right." Eld nodded sagely, "Got that fucker right in the eye too. He never saw it coming."

Gunther slapped his forehead with his hand, then mumbled something about it being a long day.

"Don't get complacent." Levi uttered, "Your timing was off. We could've done with the cavalry ten minutes earlier. Then your team mates might not be in such a sorry state."

Eld and Gunther shared a look not dissimilar to when they were given extra laps during training. An MP waved Eld over and he stepped away to talk.

"…Luis?" Petra asked in a small voice.

Levi turned his attention back to her, "Tied up out back. The MP's are taking him in for questioning, raiding the back room there. Pretty sure they'll find everything they need to put the pig away for good."

"Last year...when you told me about the trial...you said that that he got away with it..."

Levi considered her words for a moment, "What I said was: 'Nile Dok's an asshole.' Which is true." He gently lifted Petra's arm over his shoulders, "Think you can stand?"

Biting her lip and looking intently at him she nodded. She wanted to stand more than anything if it meant being right by his side. She was exhausted and traumatised, but she still wanted to feel the warmth of his body through his shirt. That desire would never go away, not even if she was crushed to death. Slowly, steadily he helped her to her feet, just as Eld approached once more.

"I think we're done here." He said, "The MP's have gathered them all up."

"Good." Levi nodded, "Then let's get the hell outta here."

From Commander Erwin and Section Commander Hange's interviews, it turned out that three scouts had accepted bribes from Luis Schuster to switch over the blade boxes with the faulty gear before the previous expedition.

The faulty boxes had been in play for a while, and had been being routinely constructed by Luis's little brother Melvin up in factory city ever since the new 'lighter' design came in. Bribery however, ended up being the only way for Luis to ensure that the gear was then used on a real expedition. It instantly proved to cause far more fatalities than a standard expedition, and the consequent losses inspired the perfect energy to whip up anti-scout sentiment, and start rallying the public for the downfall of the Survey Corps.

More shocking still was when the Special Ops squad dismounted the carriage that returned them to the compound to see the three guilty scouts being led away by MP's. At the back of the roped together line was the long, drawn face of Bert. Spotting Eld supporting Petra as she walked, tears streamed down the man's face, and he'd begun desperately yelling that he didn't know what the difference was between the two box designs, that he'd needed the money to send to his ailing father. Petra and Eld walked away silently.

The air today was crisp and wintery but the sun still shone brightly as Petra made her way to the graveyard, to two newly carved stones. She sat between them, laying a single twig of berries from the rowan tree on each grave and removing the newspaper Oruo had given her from under her arm.

"Right." She said with a small smile, "Who's ready for their horoscope?"

She flicked through the paper towards the back, mumbling, "Hmm let me see Hannah…scorpio right?" She squinted, bringing the paper to her nose, "'Your financial situation situation is improving very quickly, and you're becoming more aware of your place in the world.'" She glanced across at the grave to her left, "I guess it's easier to become aware of your place in the world if you don't move."

A grin widened across her face as she surveyed the plot of land, listening to the breeze, "I thought you'd say that." She looked to her right, "Ok Jules, what was it, Leo?"

Flipping the page back one she read, "'Sunshine, either a beautiful day or a glowing smile will appear for you. A friend will confess their love.'" She stopped and gave a single laugh, "It's funny it should say that you know…"

The sky was so blue today.

"I wish you were both here. You knew long before I did how I felt about him. You were so much smarter than me that way."

The wind stirred the strands of her hair and she looked up towards the wall.

"Because I do. I love him." She smiled, her cheeks rosy with the air's chill, "It feels nice to say that out loud to someone."

A sigh escaped her. Maybe one day she'd drum up the courage to tell him herself. To paint the future she imagined for them into words. For now though, it seemed too tenuous, and too difficult. Nothing was ever easy here. It felt as though the moment she committed it to words would be the moment it would be ripped away from her forever. It could be safe within the lips of the dead.

"Sagittarius…" She muttered, returning to the newspaper. As her eyes skittered over the page, she stopped. At the bottom was a small article circled in pen. Must've been Oruo but…why?

TWO CROOKS HOSPITALISED FOLLOWING SKIRMISH

Two members of the now defunct Anti-Scout Alliance were arrested today by members of the Military Police. There was a delay in locating the criminals, who had been active members of the Alliance, but they were eventually tracked down to Ehrmich general hospital. They informed officers that they'd been victims of an unprovoked attack not far from their local tavern, the Three Bucks. Following questioning, neither of the men could remember any details of their rogue assailant, and there were no witnesses to the crime, leading some to suspect that the attack itself was fabricated in an attempt to escape justice. Both men suffered extreme bruising and several fractured bones, but are expected to make a full recovery in jail. Military Police are not treating this attack as high priority.

Torvald Blom (38) and Angar Webstere (32) will spend the next four years in jail for a plethora of crimes including inciting violence, sexual assault and theft.

Beneath the article were two sketched portraits. Petra's heart stopped.

It was them. The same two men who'd grabbed her at the tavern. How strange. Oruo must've recognised them, and seen that they'd gone away for crimes and wanted her to know. But this rogue assailant…

She thought back to that night, to the Captain's disappearance, to the new cut across his cheek, the splatter of blood on his collar…

Surely not…

Dumbstruck she folded the paper up again in her lap, forgetting to check her horoscope.

Notes:

thaaats right it calls all the way back to the tiniest conversation in GW chap 24...lol

ok so this chapter was really really hard to write. most of the scenes were re written like 12 times or something and I still dont think ive nailed it, but i couldnt look at it any more hahaha so here you go!

hope everyone is having a nice april so far x

Chapter 21: Flashbacks

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"You sure that's everything?" Eld asked, one eyebrow quirked at Oruo, who'd just dumped four sackfuls of only Maria knew what onto the common room floor. Generally one normal-sized bag was enough to take home, but Oruo lived his life for one-upmanship, even when it came to something as mundane as winter break luggage.

"Yeah," Gunther grunted from his familiar leaning-spot against the wall, "What the hell you got in there anyway? Tongue-guards don't take up that much room."

Eld laughed, "I think at least three of those bags are full of cravats."

Gunther and Eld high-fived without looking: an increasingly frequent habit of theirs. Teasing Oruo was now as casually second-nature as blinking.

"Hrrmmph." Oruo sniffed, crossing his arms highly across his chest, "None of your damn business."

Petra, who'd been sitting at the table finishing off a letter, glanced up; "I worry for your horse, that's a lot of weight to take all that way."

"And that's just his head - imagine how much that horse'll struggle once all those bags go on there too." Eld jested, to the squads' rattling guffaws. He even caught the corner of Captain Levi's lip upturn a fraction from behind his aloft teacup.

Oruo grumbled, his upper-lip twitching a little. Since he'd been knocked out just over a week ago he'd been far more relaxed about shaving, and had the shadow of stubble gracing the lower half of his face. Eld assumed he was still slightly concussed from the ordeal; he seemed a little forgetful, and certainly more gullible than before - if that were possible.

"Whatever." Oruo waved nonchalantly, "You know Eld, I feel sorry for you. My family are at least looking forward to my arrival, unlike yours."

Eld breezed past Oruo's tease, "I gotta say I am a little jealous you only have one destination. Harriet and I have to try and visit both our families over the week."

"That's a lot of travelling." Gunther interjected, "It's a break, you're supposed to rest."

Eld shrugged, "Life is short. Gotta pack it in."

Petra returned her pen to the ink well, assessing Oruo, "And some of us pack it into four bags."

The room tittered again.

"What about you Gunther?" Eld looked towards the dark haired man, then nodded to his single, half-empty rucksack on the floor by his feet, "Oruo's taking a whole cavalry's worth of stuff, and you look like you've packed a razor and nothing else."

Gunther scratched his nose, "I got a change of clothes."

Petra wrinkled her face up. Eld cocked his head. Oruo stared blankly. Captain Levi set down his teacup with a clink.

"What?" Gunther frowned back, faintly affronted.

"A single change of clothes…" Eld started, "You're gonna stink up Stohess."

"Right." Petra chimed in, "The winter fair is quite a ride away - are you sure you won't need more than that? Plus James-"

Gunther held his hand up to stop her. She fell silent and he shook his head.

"You're not going." Oruo crossed his arms.

"I'm going home to see my family. That's it."

The silent squad waited for him to elaborate.

"That's it." He reiterated.

Eld narrowed his eyes.

"That's it? Last month you couldn't stop harping on about much you were looking forward to finally crashing the winter fair together."

"It's n-" Gunther pursed his lips hard, shook his head quietly and turned and walked out of the door.

The remaining squad blinked, dumbfounded.

"That was weird." Oruo droned, his eyebrow lazily cocked.

Petra stood up, "I'll check on him." She bustled quickly after him.

Eld looked to Captain Levi, who simply stared back and lifted his cup once again.

He scratched his head.

The moment just gone had been a return to a previous version of Gunther, the Gunther who never gave anything away, who barely grunted answers to friendly questions…it was puzzling to say the least. Gunther and James had always seemed so happy, but, Eld supposed, that didn't mean they were free of problems. Eld struggled to picture a time when he'd noticed any tension between the two at all…

August

Around sixty of the Scout's soldiers were spread out in a woodland clearing on plaid blankets, most lying on their backs and staring into the cloudless blue sky. The recent loss of squad Anna had hit everyone hard, and this summer day off couldn't have come at a better time.

Some members of the scout band had set up a small stage at one end, and were singing pared down folk songs and taking the odd request, but it was less of a show than it was a mellow soundtrack to the figures lounging in the mottled light of their woodland surroundings, chatting breezily and drinking old bottles of beer that had been scored by some of their number.

Eld sat up from his position on his back and made for his bottle of sun-warmed ale.

"I've never seen myself having kids." James said; he was the first of them to speak in a while.

"Huh?" Eld cocked a brow.

"What do you mean?" Gunther jumped in, "What made you say that?"

James looked at Gunther, concerned, then leant back in his chair, eyes to the sky, "On the way over Oruo was telling me about all his younger brothers and sisters. I was just thinking about it."

Eld glanced at Oruo, who shrugged.

"What a way to bring that up." Gunther scowled and his fists had clenched over his crossed legs.

"What? I didn't say I wouldn't consider it, just that I never saw myself having them before."

"I don't think I want to have this conversation surrounded by my squad." Gunther growled, his dark eyes burning, unblinking into the blanket.

"I was more curious," James rebutted, "As to everyone's general feelings about them. It's a big thing to think about as scouts right? Surely everyone's thought about it a little."

Eld slowly lowered the beer bottle from his lips.

"Uh…." He began.

"Children are the future." Oruo blathered, "Once I've found a suitable wife I'll waste no time in procreating."

"If you say the word 'procreating' to a girl you like, I'm telling you you won't be doing any." Eld quipped.

"Tch."

Oruo neatened his cravat.

Eld, Gunther and James snapped a look to him, then to each other.

"Nice cravat." Eld remarked with a swig.

"Is it new?" James queried, leaning forward in his chair.

"What this?" Oruo replied, "I've had it for years."

"Really?" James laughed, "I've never seen it before."

"I used to only wear it for special occasions. But I've since decided that there weren't enough special occasions, and that life has the potential to be too short." He picked up his bottle, "Not that it will be for me, you understand. But it's considerate to give other folk something pleasant to look at in case they don't stick around."

"Hold up - let me make sure I've got this right." Eld began, "You're wearing your old cravat that you've had for years for our benefit, in case we die soon? Because we think it looks good?"

"It's not a difficult concept to grasp Eld. Though I should admit I'm not surprised you're struggling with it." Oruo cradled the back of his neck with his hands, leaning his head back a touch, "That, and it's been a marvel when it comes to picking up women. With this on, I'll have a wife in no time."

"For procreating." James added and Eld chuckled.

Gunther abruptly stood up.

"I'm going to make a request." He said suddenly. Then he was off, pacing hotly towards the band.

"What's wrong with him?" Oruo loudly blurted.

"Keep your voice down." Eld muttered.

James grimaced, watching his partner storm off, "I didn't think that would be such a touchy subject for him. Especially since we'd, you know, have to go down the whole adoption route."

"Mm." Eld nodded, "I guess it is kinda a big deal."

"Yeah. I wasn't saying I wouldn't ever do it…just…" James looked at his shoes. "I dunno. It's always felt to me like the world could end any minute. The walls will come crashing down and that would be it. And then I'd have to look into a child's eyes and say: 'I'm sorry. I can't protect you from this.'"

The song ended and light applause littered the clearing.

…

Eld opened his mouth but found that no response he might form could ever be adequate.

"It's too hot." Oruo uttered, tugging at his cravat.

James sucked air in through his nose;

"Who's the new kid in the band? The one with the long face and the guitar?"

"His name's Jean." Oruo proclaimed, "He's a rookie cadet. Hangs round Petra like a fly on shit."

"He does not." Eld replied.

"Tch. He does." Oruo contradicted.

"She gives him guitar lessons. Of course he's gonna be spending some time with her."

They were loudly shushed by the approaching Gunther, who came to sit back down by James. He stubbornly turned to face the band.

Seconds later, a high note on the fiddle soared, followed by the chugging of acoustic guitars, the drone of a bowed bass, and Moblit's picked notes on his banjo. It was Petra's sweet voice however, that sounded through the trees;

"There are some who would say that she has no direction,

Her father he cried as she walked up the street,

She passes the river to catch her reflection,

Parading the backwoods to her own drumbeat,

It would be so easy to turn back…

Oh, but she won't,

Oh, but she won't."

Hannah and Jules were sat either side of Petra as she played, and joined in in harmony for the chorus, Hannah taking the low line and Jules the higher;

"I'll go anywhere long as it's with her,

She can take me wherever she roams,

With our horses, her smile and my small flask of liquor,

As long as I'm with her I'll always be home."

In the common room, the frown line deepened between Eld's brows.

"Hey Captain…you ever think about having kids?"

The man gently stilled from drinking his tea. Then after a further moment,

"More brats means more mouths to feed."

Eld quirked a brow.

"Besides," the Captain continued, "No bastard in our profession should bother considering it. They wouldn't if they had two brain cells to rub together."

Ever a realist.

—

Petra couldn't find Gunther anywhere. He hadn't gone to his room, and the bathroom was free, he must've walked straight out the door. She chewed on her lip. Perhaps it wasn't something he was ready to discuss. She supposed sometimes there were things even her closest friends liked to keep to themselves - hell, she'd be lying if she tried to pretend she wasn't keeping things from the three of them…

Seconds passed of her idle thoughts before she made her way back to the common room - to Oruo's loud blathering;

"I agree wholeheartedly. There would be nothing I'd consider less wise than to try and raise a brat as a scout. You'd have to be out of your senses. It's a madman's game - a maniac's pastime - a crackpot's-"

"No luck?" Eld interrupted, eyeing her.

Petra shook her head.

Concern shifted through him momentarily, then he returned to Oruo, "That's not what you said in the summer."

"Eh?" Oruo barked.

From her periphery she felt Levi move, neatly gathering his teacup and saucer, a blur of his suited shape shifting towards the kitchen.

"In the summer. Remember - that conversation we had on the August bank holiday, where James mentioned he wasn't sure about having kids." Eld speared Oruo, "And you were saying how you couldn't wait to have them."

Oruo fumbled with his cravat, talking into his chest. "I…I mean, that was a long time ago and I…have since…thought…differently…" His sentence petered out sadly.

Eld's left eyebrow was excruciatingly raised.

Petra gathered her letter from the table, "Oh." She mumbled, "Do you think that conversation has something to do with it then?"

"Not sure." Eld replied, "But it's the only time I've ever seen them fall out."

—

Levi watched the water tackle the dregs of tea from his cup at the sink.

He was trying his best to ignore the conversation since it has taken this…turn. Unfortunately it had bred within him an image that he was now testily trying to expel, one of a tiny child crowned with wisps of red hair, swaddled in lithe arms beneath the beaming rosy cheeks of it's young mother. Moronic.

"I don't remember that." Petra said.

"You were playing your little songs." Oruo responded, "The tinkly ones with all the strings."

Her face dropped into a scowl. Levi tuned out his three subordinate's ensuing idiotic bickering as he promptly skipped over the thought that her cute angry pout might be inheritable. Damn it. It seemed that once you started down the path of 'feeling something' for someone, there was no turning back…

Levi never really knew what to do with himself on these summer bank holidays. It was too hot to work in his office for too long, town was always disgustingly busy and the gyms were all locked up for the day.

Dappled sunlight brushed over the high tree branch where he was sat, his back against the trunk and his eyes glued to the clearing below, to the band playing their folksy songs.

"I'll go anywhere long as it's with her,

She can take me wherever she roams,

With our horses, her smile and my small flask of liquor,

As long as I'm with her I'll always be home."

Huh. Maybe Petra liked girls like Isabel did. That would be good, might solve his problem. No, that was dumb - even if she was into guys she wouldn't be into an ugly runt like him, yet he still found himself indulging the fantasy.

He lulled his head back and shut his eyes, allowing the warm bath of harmony ease him. He'd have to be careful not to fall asleep up here - which was something he didn't feel often.

He'd jumped the gun on that thought.

The high pitched steel whizz of wires punched through the air, and he bolted upright, a hand subconsciously coming to his blade.

"Relax Levi, it's only me!" Hange beamed, plonking themselves down on the branch near him.

"I was relaxed." He growled, "You doing a shitty experiment on how to piss people off?"

"Specifically it's to do with how cranky old men react to beautiful music."

He grumbled incoherently and leant back against the tree, crossing his arms.

"Why is it that you don't join us on the grass?" They asked, removing their glasses and cleaning them with the fabric of their shirt.

"Tch."

"I think I know." They said.

"If you know then why bother asking." Levi grunted.

Their eyes fell onto Petra as she played and sang in the distance.

"It's because you don't want to get caught staring do you?" A small smile spread across their face and they replaced their glasses, "Can't say I blame you there."

The observation was plain as it was gentle, it drifted softly on the summer breeze, but Levi's body seized up. Four-eyes was intently focused on the band as they continued to play to the crescendo of the song. Moblit had begun to sing echoes to the main melody;

"I'll go anywhere long as it's with her,

(as long as it's with her)

She can take me wherever she roams,

(wherever she wants to go)

With our horses, her smile and my small flask of liquor,

(as long as it's with her)

As long as I'm with her I'll always be home.

(I'll always be home)."

—

Hange glanced back at Levi whose arms were folded and whose face was set in its customary blank expression - but there it was, exactly as they'd estimated, cast down to the stage below: the stare. The ardent, near blinkless stare of a man in love. Or, perhaps it was more accurately described as a boy in love.

It warmed their soul, it was like being transported back to a simpler time; this silly, hopeless boy, hiding out in a tree so he could watch a pretty girl. Because if they took away all the 'strongest' titles, the hours upon hours of training, the terrifying reality of their lives as scouts, that was really all this was; young, shy love. A boy who didn't know what to do with feelings he didn't understand.

"Levi, you should-"

"No."

"But I haven't even-"

"No."

Stubborn. Hopeless. They sighed heavily and stood up from the branch.

"So quick to shut things down without exploring the possibilities. You'd make a terrible scientist." They shook their head, wondering if Petra had even the smallest clue of the effect she had. From what they'd seen, the woman was just as oblivious to Levi's feelings as she was about her own attractiveness.

"If you feel like joining us, you should." They swung off on their gear.

—

Levi didn't watch them go.

The single fiddle had become three as a new song began, playing lush, soaring strings, the chords of the guitars swelled and dropped dynamically and Nanaba had joined, hitting her hands against a wooden crate to keep rhythm. Petra beamed as she strummed along, and Moblit sang in his sweet tenor;

"I never thought it would happen to me,

I missed my chance to live normally,

The countless warnings that I didn't heed,

All the advice thought that I didn't need,"

And again, an abundance of harmonies joined in for the chorus,

"And now it's too late,

I've fallen in love,

There's no going back, she's all I think of,

It's too late,

My heart's enchanted,

Wish I hadn't taken my freedom for granted."

"Um…Captain?"

Levi stirred to her huge round eyes.

"…huh?" He grunted.

Her wry smile unfurled and she needled him with a typical dose of lightheartedness,

"What were you thinking about? You've been washing that same tea cup for several minutes, it's a lot - even for you."

He blinked flatly, noticing that it was only the pair of them remaining in the common room.

"Where is everyone?" He replied.

She folded her arms, "Headed to the stables - you know - to leave for the winter break?" An awkward moment passed between them until she took a single step in, then continued facetiously;

"You do know what winter break is don't you Captain? I'll explain. It's when everyone gets a couple of days away from work and drills to relax. Ok now let me explain what relaxing is-"

"Shut it." He responded, tilting her chin up to bring their faces close, then side-eyed the kitchen counter, still strewn with the morning's coffee mugs. "So you're all comfortable leaving this place like a pigsty then, huh?"

Her irises glinted, "Think of it as a winter gift to you sir. We all know how much you like to clean."

He snorted. His eyes lingered on hers for a moment, then dropped his hand.

"I'll be going then." Petra saluted fervently, "I hope you have a great winter break Levi, um…Sir."

He stared at her at length, then stepped in ever closer and pecked her lightly on the nose. It was barely a tap, the lightest touch, but the blush flooding her cheeks was a little early birthday present to himself, something to tide him over while he spent the next few days alone in the barracks.

"Go on then." He uttered. For a tender, rosy-cheeked second she looked back at him, then he dismissed her with a curt nod.

Gunther was frozen again by his horse, reins loosely in his grasp, staring dumbly at the stable wall.

No…

No.

Surely not.

It was the third time he'd stopped in such a way since witnessing it. His horse snorted at him - are we going or what?

"Yeah - Sorry." He grumbled under his breath, leading it outside.

Together they trotted down the dirt path and out towards home.

Until he'd seen it, Gunther'd been absorbed by his own predicament; by his flat, half empty rucksack and the meaning of it, his failed attempt to keep his squad mates from noticing or commenting on it. He now found himself wholly distracted in a different way.

Birds tore through the cold air overhead like arrows and he struggled to tell the bracing chill and blustering noises of the wind from the thoughts whirring around his brain.

He supposed it was good that Eld and Oruo had gone already; that after he'd brusquely left the common room to avoid interrogation and walked the perimeter of the barrack buildings, he realised he'd left the unoccupied rucksack in question behind in the common room and he'd have to retrieve it before he could leave for the break. If he saw either of them now he wasn't sure he'd be able to contain what he'd witnessed, but felt equally convicted in his desire to avoid talking to anyone.

How could he in a single breath have said; "Hey Eld, Oruo - James and I broke up - Oh and I just saw Captain Levi kiss Petra."

Putting it in so plain a way jolted him and his horse whinnied at the shift.

The break-up with James was one thing, it had been a long time coming. It took the pair of them several months to completely accept it, though they'd both known that their horizons had diverged and they were looking in different directions. The unravelling was such a slow and gentle process it was impossible to pinpoint any moment that led to the change either, it simply faded away, as day does to night and you are struck with the realisation that everything looks different.

Gunther had been surprised at his own dealing with it too, expecting to shed a tear following the final conversation or even in the quiet of his room after drills one day, but he instead found a measure of peace in the decision, a tranquil sadness existing alongside his daily routine without being insurmountable. In any case, it was a sadness he wanted to share with them in his own time and certainly not in the rushed final moments before everyone left for home.

But Petra and the Captain?

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes he wouldn't have believed it. He certainly didn't believe it in the minutes that followed as he stood hiding from them in the cleaning cupboard, staring at the door. Gunther wasn't an absurd fantasist. He didn't make stuff up. It could mean one of two things: he was losing his mind after too many years subjected to countless horrors and now was seeing things that weren't there, or…it really had happened.

In the split second he'd watched the kiss unfold, it'd seemed entirely consensual, which was of some comfort - if it was possible to find comfort in so unsettling an action. Petra'd smiled and blushed, she seemed happy; plus Captain Levi was a good man, Gunther knew that to be true in his bones.

But, how long had this - whatever it was - been going on? The nature of the peck was informal - it suggested it wasn't the first time.

Why hadn't Petra told him about it?

He supposed there were some things even close friends liked to keep to themselves, hell, he'd be lying if he tried to say he hadn't kept his break-up from his three squad mates.

Gunther's fists were gripping tightly into the fabric of his trousers as he sat by James under the summer sun. He couldn't believe James would bring up something so damn sensitive as whether or not they should have kids in front of everyone. He took a swig of warm beer. Even the beautiful sound of Petra, Hannah and Jules singing his favourite song wasn't doing much to distract him, and though he could sense James's eyes burning into the side of his face, he felt no urge to ease the man's nerves by looking back at him. If he looked back he'd only be charmed into calming down.

At some point he vaguely became aware of Hange approaching their lazing group, clunking a little as they strode in their ODM gear.

"Is this going spare?" They asked, plucking a bottle of beer from a wicker basket.

"Sure." Eld gave them a polite nod, "Go ahead."

They grinned and popped off the cap, then proceeded to glug the entire bottle down in one. With a wipe of their sleeve they mindlessly threw the empty bottle behind them and dusted their hands together, seemingly oblivious to the raised brows that surrounded them.

"Thanks a bundle, I really needed that." They sighed, "Sometimes your squad leader can be mighty short-sighted you know."

"Captain Levi?" Eld asked, "How do you mean?"

Hange nodded with their head up to a nearby tree branch. The men turned their heads to spot the Captain sat overlooking the clearing. It was unusual to see him taking an actual day off, Gunther thought.

"Oh, you know…" The section Commander responded evasively, "The usual. The same grumpy, tired old man. Though maybe one of you would be able to convince him to join us down here and actually have a little fun for once in his life."

Gunther felt himself start to smile at the absurdity, and Eld barked a laugh, "Yeah, I'll bring him a warm beer, put my arm around him and say 'hey buddy, how's it hanging?!'"

"How could he resist?" James said with a grin, and Gunther struggled to ignore how cute and funny he was. But ignore him he would, because James needed to know that Gunther wasn't happy with him.

Hange laughed and took their leave to pester another group of unsuspecting scouts. James and Eld continued making quips at the Captain's expense, coming up with more and more elaborate ruses to convince the man to 'party', and over the top of it all Gunther's ears pricked up to the sound of Oruo's quiet mumble;

"He always watches her."

He'd said it to himself. Then he was fiddling with his cravat. After a couple of seconds he picked up his beer and caught Gunther's eye, and with a slightly forlorn smile he said, "Cheers."

Gunther let out an exasperated sigh. Goddesses above: Oruo was right. He'd been saying as much the whole time, and they had completely ignored him. A regular Tiresias. It was going to be a long ride home.

Snow had fallen heavily today. It usually did on Levi's birthday, enveloping the ground in a thick white blanket for his morning ride. Each year when it came around the same thought struck him - of those who had never seen it, and never would.

He dismounted by a small stream in a woodland area a couple of miles from the compound. His boots hit the white carpet with a pleasant crunch, and he gave his horse a gentle pat and a carrot before making his way down to the brook.

The surface of the water was completely frozen. It was a subject of fascination to him, that it could be so still and yet depict the history of its own rapid movement in icy peaks and troughs; a glacial fingerprint of the river's course, a memory of water.

He sat down on the frosty bank with a rough sigh, noting how uncharacteristically pensive he could become on this stupid day each year, when he formally aged. It had gotten worse too since he'd been so undesirably encouraged towards romance by a certain few 'friends' of his. One tall blonde bastard in particular seemed to delight in infecting Levi with his poetic musings and idealistic tendencies.

To his side sat a short but widish stick forking outwards into smaller twigs. After assessing its cleanliness he picked it up, taking from his right pocket a little knife, one that had once belonged to a dear friend. Then he began removing the small twigs that adorned its flanks and gently shaping the wood.

826

It was dark, damp and smelly in their tiny room, but Levi never noticed any of that when his mother came into it. By and large the days were all the same, divided into the times when she was there, and the times when she wasn't. Today she was there, and Levi was ecstatic.

"Who's my special boy?" She beamed, lifting him into the air while the ladies who were called Edie and Aislin laughed brightly from the doorway.

She span him around quickly and Levi was suddenly dizzy.

"Put me down!" He cried, "I want to be on the floor now."

With a bright laugh she obliged, placing him on the floor where she knelt before him and nuzzled his nose. He wrinkled up his face, both wanting her to stop and never wanting her to in case that meant she would leave the room again.

"Today is a very special day."

He blinked at the eyes that matched his own, then watched as from behind her back she brought out a handkerchief that seemed to contain something, tied up with a brown string.

"What is it?" He inquired.

"Happy birthday Levi." She smiled, pressing the object into his hand, "It's a present for you."

"Happy birthday Levi!" The women chorused from the doorway, shuffling their drab patterned skirts.

Levi looked at the handkerchief bundle in his hand dumbly.

"Here - untie the string." His mother was saying, guiding his small pudgy fingers to pull the end. The string eased and the fabric fell away, revealing a carved wooden bird. Its black painted beak was open like it was singing or cawing, and its wings, clasped against its sides, were stained a fading dark greenish hue.

"A bird!" He grinned.

"Just like the one we saw - do you remember?"

How could a boy who never saw the sun forget his first glimpse of it? On the outskirts of town he trotted clutching his mother's hand urgently, like she might take off into the air if he wasn't tethering her down, and there, in the near distance, through a small dirt tunnel way beyond all the stink and mess of sprawling slums, a ray of white-yellow molten daylight snapped in, its edges sharp as shards of a broken mirror, its vibrant brightness unlike anything his pallid hollow irises had absorbed before.

"Yes! Yes!" He chirped, pulling the wooden bird to his chest, biting his lip as it dawned on him he would need to think of a name for it.

She ruffled his hair with a hand, "You'll need to think of a name for it."

"Pip!" He replied, thrilled that he'd had the same thought as his mother.

All the ladies laughed,

"Pip?" Edie exclaimed from the doorway, "I've never heard a name like that."

"Weird." Aislin chuckled.

As his face fell, his mother placed a warm hand on his shoulder,

"Darling you call your new friend whatever you wish."

"Pip." He said again quietly, though the smile returned to his cheeks.

His mother had walked a little ahead of him, one hand in his, the other stabilising herself on the compacted dirt wall, constantly looking back to check he wasn't stumbling on the uneven ground. Her long hair fell in tousled loose waves around her, and her skin, usually so sallow, was acquiring brilliance with each passing step towards the sunlight.

He could still remember the exact moment the beam hit his face. His eyes had shut instinctively, unused to the sheer brightness, and the inside of his eyelids were suddenly red instead of black. His face was hot, though he wasn't angry or embarrassed, and when he eased open his eyes once more he saw his mother twirling in it, smiling. The hole was reasonably wide and deep, though certainly too steep and unstable to climb up to the azure sky above, to the unfathomable world beyond.

A thousand colours burst forth, and within each were countless new hues; the earth that cradled them was russet, red, umber and tawny brown, and as he looked upwards, framing the magnificent cerulean-cobalt oval of the sky, tufts of emerald hair were falling towards them. His mother had then explained to him that it was called grass, and that it was a plant that grew all over the surface like a giant furry rug. He'd asked why it didn't grow where they lived - wasn't it silly that so many people in the underground froze on the cold hard ground when they could just put down some of this magical plant and everyone would have a warm green rug to lie on? He felt his shoulders drop as she explained that the grass, like most plants, needed the sunlight to grow - it would shrivel, yellow and die in the darkness of the underground. It was then that he noticed the filth that clung to her shapeless gown: the streaks of grey and black on it, some patches yellowing, and the bottom hem had absorbed the scum from the streets. He observed the sheet-whiteness of her arms, how the marks that decorated them were colourful too, fading blues and yellows, how the bags under her eyes weren't just grey, they were also tinged with purple.

That was when he heard it: Pip! Pip!

Not three metres from the pair of them a small bird hopped, cocking its head, staring at them with its beady little eyes. It's beak was black, its wings and body a luminous turquoise green, and the feathers of it's head faded from a deep red into orange and then yellow down its back. It was amazing. He ran to it, chasing it as it hopped and pipped around the open cavern and his mother chuckled until it eventually flew away to the freedom of the big blue sky. The pair of them had sat for hours until the light began to fade and they had to leave in order to see their way back through the tunnel that had brought them to their warm, colourful paradise.

Levi clutched his new present tightly to his chest.

Shavings of wood curled down onto the snow in small piles as he worked, trying to remember the angles of it's head, the ways the wings curved and snapped back. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.

He was stilled by the sound of his horse snorting somewhere behind him, and turned over his shoulder to see her walking towards him, leading her own grey mare by the reins.

A copper angel in a sea of white between the black trunks' rakish angles, she trudged, brightening as she called out to him with a wave;

"Happy birthday Levi!"

Through his surprise, he felt a sharp pain in his left hand - his right still wielding the carving knife had in his momentary distraction caught the skin between his thumb and index finger and made a small cut, on the line of which beads of blood began to form. In a pinch, he stood and turned to her, throwing the knife and his handiwork to the ground, then whipped a handkerchief from his pocket and held it against the cut.

Leaving her horse by his, she journeyed down the bank to him, eyes widening has she took in the handkerchief.

"You should be at home with your family." He said stopping her in her tracks.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"It's nothing."

"Levi."

She moved to him and took his hand in hers, and he was surprised at how easily he allowed her to move his arm around.

"Pet." He uttered, but her eyes were down as she pulled a bottle of cleaning alcohol and a fresh handkerchief from the inside pocket of her green woollen coat, all the while holding his injured hand firmly in place. When she was done cleaning his wound she thrust the handkerchief into his hand.

"It's only small, but you should still apply a little pressure with this." She said, finally bringing those sun-flecked eyes to look at him.

"I know." He responded, "It's nothing, as I said."

Her eyebrow quirked, "Well it might've been something if I hadn't cleaned it. It would've gotten all infected-"

"Petra." He reiterated, "Why aren't you at home with your parents?" - but her arms were flung intrusively around his neck and he found he didn't mind as her lips crashed onto his and she pulled herself to him, pouring in her previously withheld affection. For some minutes they stayed interlocked this way until they were thwarted by the unfortunate need to breathe.

"I saw them for a couple of days." She said, easing her arms from their position cradling him, "I'll see them again soon enough."

It wasn't true, and he knew she knew it, but he didn't want to undermine her by voicing it. What would be the point? She was here now.

"I thought maybe the best present I could give you was to be here. You know it's so rare we get to spend any time alone together."

He looked at her flatly. Suddenly his winter break was looking a lot less bleak.

"What's that?"

She was pointing at the ground, where the half-bird carving lay amid wooden shavings by the impress in the snow where he'd been sat.

"Ass-print." He muttered, but she hadn't heard him and was already kneeling, arm outstretched towards his misshapen wooden bird.

"Did you make this?" Her round eyes arrested him. He didn't reply, but watched her turning the object around in her hands. "A bird right? It's great."

He refrained from rolling his eyes. It wasn't great, but it was so very Petra to try to make others feel good. He felt himself soften,

"I had one like it as a boy."

His revelation was rewarded with a beautiful smile. He muttered, "Pip."

"Pip?" She said, "That's a nice name."

The next thing he knew he was smiling.

His 'plan' today was a risk, but Gunther was almost certain it would pay off. It had to, he'd gathered sufficient evidence:

Petra was back from winter break first - and she was never the first one back from visiting home; Gunther actually lived the nearest to the compound.

There were the signs about their quarters, her toothbrush and facecloth already laid out in the shared bathroom, both damp from what looked like a few days use. (He'd even done a sniff check, then immediately felt weird about it).

Fresh snowdrops were sitting sweetly in the blue vase on the kitchen table.

The fact that when he'd sauntered into her room to greet her, her bag was already fully unpacked.

The relaxed glow she generally had about her, that she seemed incredibly well-rested.

That final point Gunther wasn't too sure on, since he was actively looking for evidence of a love affair, there was a chance he was editing more colour into her cheeks, more brightness into her eyes to describe what he already knew to be true; that Petra and Captain Levi were… 'getting it on'.

His chest tightened at his own phrasing. He was ever uncomfortable talking about sex, even in his mind. Friends at school had often called him a prude, not to mention James'd frequently joked he was a 'goody-two-shoes' - but Gunther'd always found 'hot-gossip' to be distasteful. There was nothing wrong with minding one's own business.

…in this case though, the business in question was fascinating to him. It was an outlier, an anomaly - and that provided enough justification for his investigating it.

Upon his return to the barracks, his instinct on the matter had been to ask Petra about it straight-up the moment her saw her. When the time came however, he'd hesitated, wondering if he wouldn't find confrontation easier alongside Eld and Oruo.

If Oruo already knew (as Gunther'd suspected), then that just left Eld…and this was a matter of discussion for the whole squad was it not?

—

Eld grumbled;

"Gunther. Why am I here?"

"You owe Oruo something."

"What?" His bafflement was increasing by the second. "The hell I do - what? And why?"

"Just - Shut it." Gunther frowned, "Be quiet. You'll see."

From across ODM run three he could see Oruo, his self-satisfied grin somehow visible even from this distance. The three men were positioned in the upper canopy of the winter-bare tree branches either side of the end platform. In the distance, the faint trickling of the brook could be heard.

"This better be worth it man." Eld scowled, "If the Captain finds out we never made it out to oversee Amaya's new squad today, I'm throwing you under the horse and cart."

"That's dramatic." Gunther said quietly.

"I mean it. I'm not getting on the wrong side of the Captain on the second day back."

"What part of 'shut-it' are you not getting? At this rate you will be the reason he sees us up here."

Eld pouted. He couldn't deny that, but neither could he deny his agitation.

Scouts were often left in the dark from command, but Gunther and Oruo were his teammates; they were meant to be on the same page at all times, and instead they were withholding something from him and dragging him out of his position today. Every time he pestered them for answers they were spectacularly evasive, and where Gunther remained stoic, Oruo took an irritating pleasure from Eld's ignorance. When Eld'd eventually ordered him as his superior officer to tell him what the hell was going on (a card he personally didn't like to play), the jackass had tapped his nose and zipped away between the trees. He huffed, folding his arms.

"They're coming." Gunther muttered almost inaudibly and signalled to the pair of them to conceal themselves behind the tree trunks.

Sure enough, moments later the zip of wires was heard, followed by the tiny shapes of the Captain and Petra spinning faultlessly through the air, and coming to land on the final wooden platform in perfect unison.

Eld squinted at the green cloaked dots. It was hard to make out, but Captain Levi seemed to be giving his regular post-run critique, he gestured somewhat with his blades, possibly talking about ideal strike position.

About five minutes passed of this and Eld started to wane. Gunther had a bead of sweat on his forehead, his eyes squinted towards the small pair.

"What are we-"

"Shh - just wait." Came the hissed reply, the man's dark eyes never leaving their distant squad mates.

Eld sighed. His eyes began to wander to the grey-whiteness of the sky and the way the bare black branches forked across it like veins. He could feel a tension headache coming on. If he had to wait around pointlessly much longer he-

"There!" Gunther voiced and Eld snapped back to reality just in time to see the Captain's hand, a tiny pale spec in the distance move up to Petra's cheek. Gunther was looking at Eld now, a slightly crazed light fizzling in his gaze, like the one he had when he got a question right in the pub quiz-

"What?" Eld shot back, "I don't get it, what am I looking at?"

"Eld." Gunther reiterated, urging him to look down again.

The tiny, distant Petra took a step in and then all of a sudden her face was obscured by the back of Captain Levi's head.

Immediately full of focus, Eld shot up from his lazy position to squat on his haunches, a hand keeping him steady on the tree trunk;

"Is that? …are they?" He whispered fervently.

From across the clearing Oruo was doing an unsettling victory dance atop his tree branch.

"Kissing?" Gunther muttered back, "Yeah. And it looks like there might be some tongue going on."

"Tongue!" Eld abruptly shouted, and like a dumbass took his hand from the trunk, instantly losing his balance and falling forward. The dead leaves and the dirty forest ground started rushing towards him, then he jolted still and found himself hanging in place. A glance back found a furious Gunther gripping the back strap of his harness, and shaking his head.

"Sorry…" Eld mumbled, heat rushing to his face.

"Hey Shitbrains."

It could have only been a matter of seconds, and Eld didn't even hear a single wire but Captain Levi was in front of him. Grabbing the front of his shirt, Levi hauled Eld back onto the branch and Eld found himself in shocking proximity to his Captain's scrunched up nose and dramatically furrowed brow.

"The hell is this?" He spat, practically vibrating, though his tone remained low and sinister; "Aren't you meant to be on run six? Or did you forget where Amaya's squad were training today?"

"Did you forget something in Petra's mouth sir?"

Rats. Sometimes Eld found his own mouth was moving before he'd considered the consequences of it. He closed his eyes resolutely, surrendering to whatever onslaught Captain Levi had in store. Goodbye second in command rank. Goodbye Special Ops squad. Goodbye scouts, even. Maybe he'd get a job in the Garrison. Maybe now he could help Harriet open up that bakery she'd always wanted called 'its a bun-derful life'.

Seconds passed in silence. He eased his eyes open and saw Levi stood before him, still as a statue, his head leant to one side and his eyes staring blankly off into the woods. A light breeze stirred his dark hair. He was deep in thought. Eld took the opportunity to slowly get to his feet. Behind him Gunther stood with an unreadable expression, and in a nearby tree Oruo and Petra were side by side, the former was smirking and the latter white as a sheet.

Eld cleared his throat, but before he could form a syllable Levi spoke;

"Call it even?"

The hard grey gaze met Eld's.

"Huh?" Eld fired him a puzzled look.

"This is it. It's done. I won't write you up for insubordination and I'll overlook you shirking your duties on the condition that this does not get mentioned again. To anyone. You understand?"

Eld met him with with an equally hard gaze. It felt like he was making an underground deal with his Captain.

"Understood, sir."

Levi nodded. "The same goes for the rest of you. Unless you wanna spend the rest of your days as bait for Hange's titan experiments I'd suggest you keep your mouths shut."

The squad looked suitably startled at the turn of events as their Captain bade them to return to the top of the run, and instructed them to complete it in silence. The man himself had taken off to oversee Amaya's squad in place of them. None of them dared to speak through the afternoon's drills, in case Captain Levi had in fact hung about and was surreptitiously watching them. This didn't however stop Eld and Gunther from looking emphatically over at Petra, who's cheeks were such a deep shade of crimson there was almost no difference between her skin and her hair. Oruo was the only person who seemed to work through the afternoon's exercises in a somewhat normal fashion.

Petra couldn't believe they'd been caught. They were usually so careful. She supposed a few days spent together in winter-break bliss might have made the pair of them a little too comfortable. Drawn them into a false sense of security. She had found that it was an unwelcome shock to go back to the regimented, secretive lifestyle they'd had only a week or so beforehand.

She was never going to live this down. Threats from the Captain or not, her squad were going to tease her until the day a titan murdered her, she'd seen it in Eld and Gunther's expressions throughout the afternoon. 'Later. I'll talk about it later,' she'd said over and over again on the trudge back to the barracks, until Eld had literally twisted her ear and gotten her to agree to explain herself over a pint.

"Captain Levi huh….?" Eld mused, "I always knew you liked a challenge."

"Keep your voice down!" She rebutted, looking frantically around the pub to make sure nobody else had overheard him.

Eld and Gunther were leaning forward a little across the table. They had the kind of insistence and sparkling eyes that reminded her of Hannah and Jules, and for a moment she wondered if they'd been possessed by the spirits of her old friends. Oruo was sat as though he weren't really listening, one hand draped over the edge of the booth they were sat in.

"Chill out small fry, no-one can hear us." Eld scratched his goatee.

"Yeah it's rammed in here." Gunther said, "Besides even if they did overhear, no-one would have any idea what we were talking about."

Petra bit down on her lip.

"Booster seat. Speak." Eld commanded.

"What do you…want to know?" She ventured.

The questions came immediately, and pretty much at the same time.

"Are you staying on our squad?" Asked Eld.

"Can you wrangle us a pay rise?" Oruo drawled.

"Does he treat you well?" Gunther said with some force.

There was a short pause.

"Right." She took a long swig of ale. "Well first questions' first - yes I'm staying on the squad. Unless it makes any of you uncomfortable to have me?"

The three men shook their heads.

"Glad to hear it." She smiled, "No Oruo I can't wrangle us a pay rise. Gunther…yes, he does." She felt her face heating up again, "He's…"

"...Wonderful?" Gunther finished the sentence for her.

"Wonderful."

The evening rolled on and the clientele of the tavern got drunker and drunker, while the men of the Special Operation's Squad relentlessly made fun of her. She'd expected nothing less. What she wasn't expecting however, was for Eld to haul Oruo up onto a chair after the bell had chimed for final orders and for him to shout in his fullest voice across the whole tavern:

"Ladies, Gentlemen, Scouts! Please may I present Oruo Bozad, the smartest soldier in the whole Survey Corps!"

Oruo gave a low bow and the tavern erupted in cheering and yelling.