Chapter 45: Trust

What have I done to you?

The night, cheapened by her affairs with the day, afforded only four hours of rest between the day before the sleeper's wedding and the moment itself. Cheated of some sanity which might make the drunken hours bearable and relaxation which might clarify a vexing vow, the bride awakened at midnight and sat awake, pondering the four hours, each stretching into a month each. She rolled them around in her head, confiscating and killing any thought threatening to tear her away from the altar.

Hour one – Hajule and Larmie sat at the foot of her bed. She could hear their bodies shifting in the bedroom across the hall, and one of them went to the kitchen at some point in the night to get a cup of water. A sense in her gut said that these were just their figures, and that the figures at the foot of her bed were the essence of her parents, their true selves that they could never reveal to the world. Hajule, and Larmie, who tried for years and years to have a child and failed. Hajule, who wondered if something was wrong with her body, that she could not bear a child and carry on her husband's line. Hajule, who worked tirelessly to build up the family farm so that, at least if the estate passed to a trusted worker, they would have some reason to speak well of her husband. Larmie, who wondered if something was wrong with his body, and if his wife regretted marrying him, if he should leave her to release her to a better man. Larmie, who worked tirelessly to make life comfortable for his beautiful wife so that, at least in her misery, she might be in a farmer's luxury. How many farmer's wives had their own horse, for pleasure, removed from work? How many farmers came back from the fields to find repairs finished, new waterways dug, and all the evening chores completed? Exhausted by days, then weeks, then months of work, only a fierce thunderstorm reminded them of their passion for one another, and of that came Jamie. Of him dissolved all the worry, fears, and regrets built from saddling a loved one with an unwanted life.

Their essences told the story. Although their mouths had never delivered the truth, she knew it was a thunderstorm that drove them back to one another. She felt the decades of marriage, of people wondering what was wrong with the two, that they didn't have any children. She knew all the questions dissipated, that the whisperers silently apologized, when Jamie was born. She knew there would be no apologies, even from her own family, when her body refused the task. Perhaps it was a relief to Levi, with all the devastation he'd witnessed. Perhaps he rejoiced that he would not participate in bringing another doomed life into the world. But her neighbors, her coworkers, her friends, and her family would never venture beyond the walls, and they would never forgive her for this transgression.

Then I shall carry on this life with my mouth closed. I shall never acknowledge the scorn.

Hour two – knuckles wrapped against the window. Edie tossed and turned in her sleep to see two ghastly figures beyond the glass, staring at her in an empty gaze. One figure's skin sagged as if melted, its eyelids bending down to its chin, and its chin stretching halfway down the torso. The first figure wore no clothes, and Edie knew this, even though only his waist up was visible from the window. His chest, sagging as it was, showed each bone and joint, clear in the moonlight, and cast a stick figure shadow along the floor. His four-inch nose rose and fell with each breath, and puffs of chilly wind condensed on the glass. Both his knuckles knocked, announcing the arrival of himself and his compatriot, and the rhythm matched his perpetual swaying, back and forth, back and forth. He drew close to the window, so that his flabby nose and chin touched the wall, and then back again so that he might fall over. There was no sound of wind. He held no weapon nor threat, only a vague feeling that this must be killed.

The second figure wore an encompassing hood, darker than the filthiest shadow, and it absorbed all the moonlight. His shadow, a morphing blob, shifted with the first figure's sways. His arms, if he had them, rested at his sides under the cloth, and his face was absent. His eyes, though, shone as stars. They contained every light knowable to any creature and changed in wisdom the longer they were beheld. At first, the stars shone blue, as an early morning sky. Little by little, wisping clouds as streaks of white brightened the stars, and suddenly, the beholder was no longer looking on from a bedroom, but in the sky, with the first figure's moving her limbs like a marionette. She'd looked in his starry eyes too long. They shifted with the sunset, fierce flashes of neon, scarlet, and royalty, until they rippled into a deep blue, blacker than the deepest sea, and the first figure opened its flabby mouth and, from behind, swallowed you whole. The eyes, less and less distinct in the black cloak, disappeared. The figures still existed beyond vision, but Edie felt in her pocket for a blade that never left her, and pinned the first figure against the ocean floor. Then she swam, swam, swam toward the stars, took hold, and pulled herself home.

Hajule and Larmie still stood at the foot of the bed, unblinking, and the figures still stood at the window, knocking. She held her lips tighter together and stared at the ceiling.

I would rather die on account of this man, to protect him from war and death, then drag him down.

Hour three – her fiancé lay next to her. But this was the man without his soul, with only his body left over. He had no conscience as associated with the spirit or reason associated with the mind, only his instinct and expectation. He had his senses and native intuition. He ran his fingers from her cheek to her torso, bounding over every curve. His touch wasn't unfamiliar. He'd been well allowed to caress her, hold her, and kiss her. But when he reached her waist, he stopped and lay his palm flat.

"I'm not half-dead now," his flesh whispered, "not how I was when we last lay together. I know you're lying to me. I can feel it on your skin. I can read it in your muscles. Your scent gives it away." His body pressed against her hair and breathed deeply. "My thoughts won't always be around to lie. How long do you think you can hide this from me?"

Then I shall hold myself always, upright and ready, to fulfill every expectation and desire. I shall leave no cause to wonder.

Hour four – the shadowman lurked in the corner. Still asleep in the fourth hour, she could see him, as if in a rocking chair, leaning back, then forth, without a sound. Her muscles tensed, sure that squeaking wood would send her bolting out the window, but the shadowman was cool, collected, and silent. He had no reason to pounce, to give chase, or even remind her that his clammy fingers lay claim to her soul. The sixty minutes drudged by, an hour each in their own regard, every second requiring an innocent verdict to be released. The faceless victor held out his allotted time, aware of the clock on his wrist and her appointed witching-hour rising, but he sat regardless. Time bothered him not.

Halfway through the hour, bits of his crusty exterior began to chip off. The first layer, removed an ounce at a time, lightened his visage but revealed nothing new about his figure. With fifteen minutes till waking, the colors of his garment shifted from curtailed black to a smoky gray, each line defined with separate shadows and exactness. This was his last play, to remind her mind who he was and stamp his image on the lenses of her eyes. When she accepted the captain's hand and gave her existence to him, she would see the shadowman's physique and make the promise rudimentary.

Then I shall make this promise with my eyes closed. I shall never entreat the shadows.

With the fourth thought executed, Edie sat up in a cold sweat. Her parents melted away, the knocking ceased, the soft fingers vanished, and the shadowman…though her whole body shook and the shadowman's form still crouched in the corner, she knew the battle was won. He could sit there as long as he pleased, but she would marry the captain, come what may, despite his misgivings and her sins. In the best of scenarios, she attained a merciful seat on the jury otherwise condemning her. In the worst, she chose the swiftest of executioners, with a quick blade in close quarters. The fatal breath would be to call the whole affair off, to enslave his mind without his body, and leave half a man. If he went on the field in such a state and halved, he would never know his attacker's true form, and she would have no way to apologize. In marriage, and in death, she kept his enemies close.

The sun scarcely lit the violet sky with any hint of daytime, but Edie rose regardless and drew water from the well. Standing underneath the holed bucket, she shivered as streams of warmed ice cut off circulation. The pain sufficed, to seal the thoughts for another late evening and prepare for the horrors of the day. Lying to the man she loved, lying to her family, lying before all those who took the trouble of caring for her. They were better off sealed away.

Back in the house, Hajule and Larmie began to wrestle out of a deep sleep, and Edie retreated to relish a few final moments of lonesomeness. She dressed in a light blue dress, simple, for traveling, and slipped the bodice over her head. She took in a breath as the strings tightened and pressured her chest. Her hand rested slightly over her stomach, and her eyes met their double in the mirror. In, out. In, out. Each breath labored to hold any troublesome thoughts down.

Hajule had warned her about cold feet and uncertainty at the brink of marriage, and Sari and Tinnul had affirmed it. They all described a chilly feeling along with butterflies and the thoughts that perhaps they could not manage being a wife. All three also said that once they were at the altar, facing their intended, the thoughts dissipated. Edie expected no such grace for her soul.

Brushing her hair in the mirror, she practiced holding her head high, relaxing her shoulders, and breathing at a usual rate. "Not the first time you've had to pretend at some official ceremony," she murmured. "Only now all eyes are on you."

Hajule started the parade off early.

"Good morning, darling!" her mother began, throwing the curtains wider and opening the glass. "How wonderful that you're already up and moving. I imagine you could hardly sleep a wink last night, hmm? That's the evening before, I assure you. Not to worry, the excitement of the day should carry you forward." She stepped behind Edie, wrapping her arms around her waist. "How are you feeling?"

"Ecstatic."

"I know! Months of preparation leading up to one day. Well, we'll put on a party that all his Scout friends will never forget, hmm? But it's all about you and your captain, I know. All the same. Lana and Karmen arrived yesterday and will be heading to the chapel soon, in plenty of time to help with the floral and other decorations. Besides, your father needs someone to hold him back. I'm not sure when Jamie will arrive, likely with the rest of his regiment. Oh, I hope they don't give him any grief about his cadet leave. You know how stingy they can be with time."

"Indeed."

Hajule spun around the room, folding blankets and straightening the immaculate quilt. "Now, we've got to go through the list and make sure we have everything we need. It's a two hour ride to the chapel eastward, so if there's anything forgotten, you'll have to do without."

"How much could a person need to get married?"

"More than you'd expect. While the day is about you, there are plenty of people coming who have poured into your life and future, and although they want you to have a happy day, I want you to be ready for an undercurrent of expectations. Our lovely neighbors and friends are bringing gifts and heirlooms and want confirmation that it's all going to a good cause. Now, you know my perspective on such things, to stick it to the sticklers, but there is a certain amount of gratitude with all of the household goods that you're receiving free of charge."

Edie forced a laugh. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"Someone might not like the table settings, or the flowers, or think that your dress doesn't have a long enough veil—"

"I'm wearing your veil."

"Yes, yes, but someone who wasn't at my wedding and who isn't kind enough to ask might make an offhanded comment about how horrid it is that you couldn't find a decent dressmaker who designed a veil long enough to cover the whole church, and they might even say that within earshot of Katra, and we may have a catfight on our hands."

"Hajule. Really."

"You never know! But you are, in your way, the gracious host. Although your father and I will facilitate as much as possible, people look to you now to lead. You will have your own house, your own way of doing things, and people see you as a bright, young figure. Not only have you won the heart of one of our community's heroes, but you yourself are one of those heroes. Now you will be a wife, and, some day, a mother, and lead the next generation into what I hope is a shining future, all things considered. It's your first impression."

Edie sighed to herself, turned, and held her mother's hands still. "It's going to be a wonderful day."

"I know, it's only that—"

"People will be happy, civil, and keep their comments to a minimum. You're talking as if you invited highway robbers to a wedding. These are our friends and family."

"Yes, and if you had known some of them as I know them, then—"

"Let's give them the benefit of the doubt." Edie squeezed Hajule once more, then held her shoulders. "What about that list?"

"Yes!" Hajule snapped her fingers and hurried to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder as she went. Edie took one last, long look in her bedroom mirror and followed.

When I led that titan away from our home, I never intended to be anyone's hero. I just wanted to protect Jamie. How terribly disappointed people will be when they realize I'm no one to look up to. How awful when they realize the triumphant Scout married a casket. Perhaps I should have jumped off Dia, let her run on to safety, and let that titan eat me. I would have been remembered fondly, Levi still would have saved the village, and all would be well with the world. Except, perhaps, Jamie would have never joined the Scouts, if not for Amile's training and meeting the Commander at Corini's wedding. He would have been terribly unhappy as farmer, inheriting the land. I can't stand to think of him as unhappy. No, it was the right thing to do, to lead that titan away and wait for help to arrive.

Twenty minutes of scurrying later, Edie and Hajule held each other at gunpoint in the living room, with Larmie practically collapsed in the corner. Hajule held a piece of parchment in her hand, her other finger pointing, and Edie held her ammunition in a light wooden crate.

"Wedding dress?"

Edie held up a velvet bag. "Check."

"Veil?"

"Inside the bag."

"Jewelry?"

"Also in the bag."

"Are you—"

Larmie began sobbing in the corner, as far as Edie could tell. She took a deep breath. "We have checked five times already. The earrings, barrettes, and your mother's bracelet are all in the bag."

Hajule put the sixth check next to that item on the list. "Shoes?"

Edie held up the straps. "Check."

"Perfume?"

She held up the bottle.

"Your overnight bag?"

"I don't have enough hands to hold it up, but I'm staring at it. And yes, I checked it once a day for the past two weeks, at your bequest, to ensure nothing was missing. There's soap, a towel, clothes for three days, underclothes for six, comfortable shoes, and a knife."

"A—"

"We'll be in the woods, Hajule."

"And he's a Scout, dear. When it comes to defense, I doubt you're the first line." Hajule checked thrice more, then gently set the list in the crate. "I believe we're ready to go."

"I should hope so. I've practically got all my possessions in here."

Hajule nodded, her mind absent. "You'll find out how necessary that all is tonight. We haven't talked much about your wedding night, and I don't want to bore you with any details, but let me assure you, all the undergarments are necessary."

Larmie rubbed his forehead, nursing a headache, and squinted suspiciously.

"You do know how the marital act is done, yes?"

All of a sudden, he jumped up from the corner, loudly announced, "I'm getting the horses ready!" and strode out the front door, leaving a resolute slam behind him.

Edie smiled a bit and nodded. "We live on a farm, mother. Removed from that, I'm not a child."

"Yes, yes, but it's quite a different thing with your husband. Now, you'll have to find out for yourself what kind of man the captain is and what he desires, but one way or another, there will be a moment of passion between the two of you tonight. Now, have you felt any inclination one way or another? Do you feel it will be enjoyable, or is there a twinge of discomfort at the thought?"

With a heave of the crate over her shoulder, Edie headed to the door.

"Just know that I love you and want the best for you!"

"I know, I know. I'll come to you straight away with any questions."

"Yes, well…good." Hajule seemed quite satisfied with the conclusion.

I did promise Jamie. I promised him wholeheartedly that if the captain asked for an evening of my time, that I would accept. Jamie wouldn't take no for an answer, and it was an honorable thing to honor that promise. He is my brother, in all manner of things, and knows me better than anyone else here. It was a good thing to grant him that request and go through with it. But after that first evening out…why did we continue? Why didn't I have the strength to break it off then and there? And when we met Petra, and the rest of his squad, people who could look out for him if not for me, why was that not enough to satiate my care? Why do I get a feeling in my gut that they won't be able to protect them? That for all their skill, there are worse monsters he has yet to face, and they can't guard him? That he can't guard them? Then it was the right thing to do, to stay with him, to protect him as best I can.

Before climbing onto the wagon seat, Edie took out her knife and cut off a single sunflower head, one smaller than the rest to add to her bouquet. The restless night began to catch up with her, and between the lulling of the wagon and the couple's soothing chatter, she fell in and out of wakefulness, hearing bits of stories in lucid moments.

"…do you remember that one man at our ceremony? I think he was a friend of your father's, from out of town or something, and he invited him without asking your mother. Oh, I remember how livid she was. Not only were the seating arrangements amiss, but he had such a loud voice and drew everyone's attention. Not mine, though. Oh, yes. I was beyond nervous at that altar. But all of it melted away the moment the doors opened and you stepped through with your oblivious father. You were so stunning, so serene, that every fear melted into assurity."

"Oh, Larmie."

"It's true!"

"I remember when the priest pronounced us man and wife, and that supercilious man clapped and cheered as if we were his closest friends."

"What was his name again?"

"I couldn't say."

"Your mother likely talked about that day on his deathbed, rest his soul."

"Indeed. I wish Jamie and Edie had met him."

"So do I."

When he was injured, I didn't even think. I should have stopped and paused. Yes, there is where my mistake was, a moment of absentmindedness where my emotions carried my actions instead of my thoughts. If I had been more logical at that time, I would have received that message calmly and realized that there was nothing I could do to help. Either he would recover, or he wouldn't. Crying and sitting at his bedside wouldn't change that fact. I gave into the impression that he was my world, and that losing him was an inconsolable grief. It is, and the heavens know it to be true, but I pledged that knowledge safe within my soul. I betrayed myself in that moment. Perhaps without that confirmation, he may have never proposed. I would have never had to say no. I would never have gone back on my word.

They arrived at the chapel, greeting the resident priest and his page, who sputtered some nonsense about what a happy day it was, how the sun shone on their union, and how most everything was in place for the joyous occasion, how the beloved family could rest in their happiness. Edie nodded along, smiled along, and constrained her thoughts.

Nothing to be done about a moment's error now. I let myself fall in love with a good man, but worse, I let him know it. I don't give a damn about people's expectations or what they think of me, but Levi…he's caged.

"Oh, one guest arrived prematurely. He didn't share his name or any relation, just barged in and insisted on staying. I assume he's with you, but didn't—"

All of sudden, the doors of the chapel burst open, and out ran a young man, straight into Hajule's arms. After a brief cry of shock, she burst into tears and squeezed him rapturously. Both of them were soon drenched in the first of the day's waterfalls (assuming Hajule and Larmie didn't share a teary moment before emerging that morning), and Edie felt gratitude that neither of them wore their nice clothes. "My son, my beautiful baby boy," Hajule murmured over and over. Soon, she released him, and he and his father embraced. Larmie held in his tears but held his son for a few minutes, whispering softly to one another, while Hajule clung to Edie's arm and cried on.

Eventually, Jamie was free of his parents' grips and turned to her. "Edie." His eyes quivered, just for a moment, and he wrapped her in his arms. "Thanks for today."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Not only do I get a free day off, but you're giving me the biggest one-up on anyone in the cadet corp."

"Really? I thought you'd be the center of ridicule."

"Oh, all that is just jealousy seeping through. Anyone would be thrilled to have you as a sister."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He leaned in closer so only she could hear. "Ever since you visited, they all know what I already did. I've got the best family and the coolest sister."

She sniffed and remembered her resolution from just a moment ago. "Quit it, Jamie. I promised myself I wouldn't cry."

"Good luck. Everyone else will be nothing but waterworks."

"Should we tell them it isn't a funeral?"

"But it is. The death of your freedom."

"As if I had that to begin with."

Jamie had begun to let go, but at that last statement, he held onto her shoulders for a moment longer. He stared curiously at her face (she wasn't used to this new height), but shrugged it off and let go. "As I understand it, there's a bridal suite upstairs."

Hajule wiped snot on her husband's sleeve. "Yes. We ordered some brunch from the nearest town to be delivered. It should be there already."

"Well, if anything is missing, let's blame a raccoon."

The four trudged up the stairs with baggage for days, chattering as they went. Jamie recounted the name of every cadet in his class and dredged up every detail already known from his letters. Larmie talked on and on about some new hires, some new migrants from another farm, and some new neighbors who planted fruit trees in their backyard. He pulled Hajule in as a witness for the wildest stories. Hajule ignored his petitions and talked on and on about who had moved from their community, how the market outside of Sina had grown, and a recent housefire that caused a little stir. Edie listening to it all, privy to all the stories from experience, hearing it months ago, and letters. All three of them seemed to forget what they'd written about and even events that all four had been present for before Jamie left, occupied more with sharing than with novelty. The bridal suite sprung to life as they spoke. Jamie and Larmie unpacked all their necessities, and Hajule got to work on the bridge.

She spun half of Edie's hair into a bun, and the rest fell just above her waist. With heated metal rods, Hajule carefully curled small ringlets, and when complete, she ran her fingers through them and separated the clumps. She positioned a few strands to hang over her shoulders, and gave her approval. With the work complete, the family sat down to eat.

"Lana and Karmen arrived a little while ago. I saw their horses pull up, and they have some trinkets with them. They're going to make sure that things are in place for the ceremony," Hajule said through mouthfuls of sandwich. "I'm sure they'll be up here to pay their good wishes at some point."

"Captain Hange came by the Cadet Corp to relieve me and Amora earlier, and she said that Commander Erwin and Captain Levi were staying in Ehrmich for the week to get things ready. They've been between Karmen's cabin and Scout business on and off, but they made sure nothing was planned for yesterday or today. He should be here in two hours, at the latest. Captain Hange and Amora had to take care of something south of here, close to Trost, before coming up. They'll have to get ready here."

"Amora, that's the girl in your corps, yes?" Larmie asked.

"Mm hmm. She's dead set on becoming a Scout now and said it'd be a huge favor to come along. Commander Shadis said that two of us had to be relieved and travel together, and nobody else wanted to wear a suit."

"She didn't mind?" Edie teased.

"Shut up. She's going to wear a dress."

"All the same, I thought she was going to join the Military Police."

"Yeah, she was set for it, too, but meet—hearing about you changed her mind."

"Huh." Edie feigned grabbing a napkin and leaned in close. "You still got a crush on her?"

"I asked politely before," Jamie said through gritted teeth.

"Then I assume you can do it again."

The wrestled for a bit before Larmie cleared his throat and spoke up. "Everything's in place, then. The food, the flowers, the guests, the ceremony, and the Scouts. What more could a wedding need?"

Hajule's eyes grew wide. "The rings!"

"Commander Erwin has them," Jamie reminded her.

"But if he—"

"Mom." Her son sighed. "The commander literally plans military operations with cunning precision and detail to ensure the least loss of life possible, planning for the most minute of situations and possibilities. He's probably got a ten-step program to ensure the rings are right where they need to be."

"Which is—"

"In his jacket pocket. Mom." Jamie put a hand on her shoulder. "Everything's in place and is going to be fine. I don't know why you're freaking out, anyway. If anything, Edie should be losing her mind."

"Did that when I came off the mountain."

"You mean when you became a Cartwell," Jamie said sideways.

"Yes, a Cartwell," Larmie announced, putting a hand on Edie's shoulder. "That's what you are and always will be, you know? No matter what that priest announces when you two are married, you are always a Cartwell. No matter what."

"Thanks, d—"

He wasn't finished. "I know how it goes, setting up your own home and being wholly devoted to that, but I don't want you to think for a second that you're forgotten here or don't have a place. Your mother and I—this goes for you, too, Jamie—think of you constantly when you go away. We worry for your safety (especially you, Jamie), wonder if you're successful in what you're doing, and pray for your happiness in all things. And if things ever don't work out, for whatever reason, whether the Scouts aren't for you, or if this marriage is not how it needs to be, then you always have a place in our home. There is no shame in trying something and not bringing it to completion, because that is never the goal in life. Our goal is this, here, our family." He held his children's hands, one each, and they took hold of their mother's. "And our family is strong, full of life, and brimming with joy. We hold onto each other, in sickness and in health, and, for lack of any better terms, we are stuck with each other. There is no disagreement or disappointment that will ever tear us away from each other, no name change or change of address. Even if one of you moves to Nedlay and the other to Klorva, we are all together in spirit, bound together in our souls. Do you understand?"

"You're loopy, dad. But yeah." Jamie had broken his promise, too, and spouted a few tears. "I love you guys, so much. You don't understand how much it means to…well, I love you. That's all."

"You saps," Hajule sobbed. "We're supposed to have a happy day, to celebrate this…oh, you all are saps. I'm so sorry, Edie, we're all a wreck."

"Better together." She pulled them all in for a mess of a hug. She squeezed her eyes shut and pretended, just for a moment, that she was their firstborn, and this was a happy day. It was worth it, all the imagining, to offer one moment where one family came together and realized what a miracle it was to be together. "Even if I can never really be a part," Edie whispered to herself, "I hope you all think of me fondly."

They lingered for a while, stuck in their clump, until Larmie left to check on Karmen, and Jamie went to explore the chapel, and Hajule left to find safety pins for a stray sash.

A trail of ladies, on their way to their seats, stopped by the see the main attraction. Katra came first, professing that she just wanted to see the dress and make sure all the hems held up, but she visited for twenty minutes and chatted endlessly about her date downstairs. He was strapping, kind, but new, and she needed a moment alone after the hour's journey. Edie sat by the window, listening halfway, and gazing at the arriving guests. Hajule came by at some point and took her back downstairs under the guise that she had to meet this new gentleman. Tinnul stopped by—a more expected visit, as the matron of honor—and dropped off some freshly baked cookies. The drop-off took half an hour, punctuated by Corini walking in blind, his hand pressed firmly over his eyes. After repeated assurances that no one was naked, he still kept his vision obscured and dragged his wife away. Lana, by far the most understanding, stopped in for three minutes and twenty-four seconds exactly, only long enough to pass on an extra key to the cabin and make sure she knew about the sleds in the shed. Sari stayed the longest, but she and Hajule engaged in conversation while Edie stayed by her window, still in her plain clothes, still staring at the arriving guests. Most of the Scouts arrived while Sari went on and on (although Levi and the Commander had arrived much earlier and disappeared from view. There was no groom's suite, and she wrought her wrists wondering where he was, wondering if he'd slipped from the church when no one was looking). Hajule came in and out, updating the bride on what was going on downstairs. Edie wished she had a guard at the door to make sure it stayed locked, but no such luck. She would never enjoy silence again, it seemed.

Twenty minutes until the ceremony began, three more guests graced her presence. She could tell they were Scouts based on their regular footsteps up the spiral stone staircase; all others struggled to maintain a steady pace on irregular grounds. Also, they knocked on the door and actually waited for an answer, something only Corini had been gracious enough to do. Edie draped a robe over her dress and called that they could come in.

"Just wanted to let you know that everything looks perfect down there," Hange said upon entrance. "Jamie mentioned that you'd been locked in this tower for hours."

"It's been alright," Edie lied. "Kind of relaxing."

"Well, it's all in order. Levi's in his former wear and looking the best he can. Not to mention, the chapel is gorgeous! Your family really went all out."

The bride nodded graciously and looked to the other two ladies. "Amora, right? I don't believe we've met."

"No." A smile flickered on the cadet's face. "There would be no reason or method for us to have met before this moment."

"No, indeed."

"Congratulations. The captain's a lucky man."

Lucky, not fortunate. "I'm glad that Jamie has made some close friends in the cadet corp. He says you're planning to join the Scouts when you graduate."

"Yes. That's not for another two years, of course, but it's important to plan for the future."

"Of course. It's good to know there's such dedicated recruits in the corps."

"Even more so!" Hange exclaimed. "Would you believe the kind of ingenious crap these kids are coming up with? Five minutes in that sticking camp of hormones and sweat, and I heard three brilliant ideas to capture titans!"

"You mean…kill?"

"God, no! They're working on ways of bringing them back to our camps for study."

"Oh." Edie managed a smile. "That's great, Hange."

"In fact, Petra, didn't you say that one of your guys thought of a mesh metal that might be able to suppress a titan's strength?"

"Yeah, Oluo. He thinks that—"

"No time to waste! There's fifteen minutes till showtime, and we can't waste a second! Good luck, Edie!" Hange grabbed Amora by the arm and barreled out the door.

Petra remained, and gingerly touched Edie's arm. "I think what Hange is trying to say is, thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Of course. It's not something we regularly discuss, but you've changed the captain. Not that you've made him soft, or anything, or bad at his job, but you've made him happy. Before he knew you, he used to sit by himself when Erwin wasn't around, preferring quiet and not really wanting to join in with all the tomfoolery some of us get up to. He used to look so annoyed whenever we pulled him into it, but now…he's got this soft smile, whenever everyone's cutting up, and I can tell it's because of you. Whatever held him back from enjoying himself, and appreciating little things like that, well…I think you've helped him more than you know. You two are going to be very happy together."

Edie blinked, holding in her emotion. "Petra, I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. But I wanted to promise you." She held her right hand in a fist over her chest, and her left behind her back. She stood tall in the salute and bowed. "I promise I will keep him safe on the field, and bring him back to you. We all do—Oluo, Eld, Gunther, and me. We've always looked after him, but all the more now."

"Thank you."

"I hope you won't be too anxious when we're on missions." Petra relaxed her salute. "Good luck out there."

Edie couldn't find anything to do between that promise and the next. When Larmie knocked on her door to take her to the aisle, she still wore the robe and stood in the same spot. She checked her trimmings, put on a demure smile, and joined her father. He made some sappy observations on the way to the closed doors, and they waited for the music to change.

A hundred butterflies took flight, incomparable to the thousands of demons sharpening their knives. Larmie's touch was unrecognizable in the midst of all the movement, and his voice beyond all the noise. She thought she felt him kiss the top of her head, but that might've been a devil dripping poison from above. Strange things to occur in a church, she thought, before the priest's page opened the door, and deafening music added to the clamor.

People towered as redwoods, filling every inch of the aisles, pressed close together and ready to combust. If a single spark jumped from the candles on one of their bushy hats, she knew the whole chapel would be in enveloped in flames. Larmie intended to stretch out the moment of her singleness as long as possible, walking as a child to a consequence. The trees morphed to a jury, pressed up close, their eyes and attention on her. She kept her gaze forward, unwilling to see their disappointment and the guilty verdict. In her peripheral view, she noticed some looking back and forth, from her to whoever was on the opposite end of the aisle (too many tall heads blocked her view), and their thoughts reverberated in her head. The victim, and the defendant, soon to be reunited as justice is done. "Ten more steps," she whispered to herself. "Only a thousand miles."

The demons chiseled, the devil dripped, the specters knocked from each stained glass window in the chapel, and the butterflies turned to ravens and beat their wings against her head. They cawed, and hissed, and grabbed at her dress, and Hajule's beautiful veil, with their terrible claws.

"We are gathered here today, in the sight of the gods, to join this man, and this woman, in holy matrimony." Where was that voice coming from? Beyond the swarm of creatures, holy and unholy alike, came the crotchety voice of an old man. "Who gives this woman to be wed?"

"Her mother and I." Another kiss, or another splatter of demonic slime, landed on her head. Too bad. And after Hajule spent so much time on her curls. They had no shame.

They pulled her back as Larmie put her hand in another's, and her second joined. Slowly, another drew closer, kissed her cheek (this time, she was certain it was not devilish), and stayed close to her ear.

Edie blinked, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Levi," she murmured, barely audible, certainly not above the priest beginning his mantras.

He kissed her cheek once more, and held her hands tightly. He was trapped here, willingly, bodily able to remove his hands from hers, but becoming bound with each syllable. The vows would come, and he would be tied to her side. Though no command had been given, he leaned close to her ear once more.

"You look perfect," he whispered, "like peace in paradise."

"Paradise," she repeated. Inhaling, all the creatures drew near, and exhaling, they found their exit in windows, grates on the floor, and shadows in the rafters. "Thank you."

The chapel came into crystal view, all the decorations and architecture finally visible. Nearly two hundred people packed into the chapel, by her estimation, and she supposed that Larmie and Hajule did exactly what her adoptive grandfather pulled. A green pox stuck out in the back of the church, leaning to the left, where two dozen Scouts sat proudly, erect, gazing at the altar with pride in their eyes. She recognized Hange, Amora, and Levi's men, but many others were nameless. Tears nearly welled up again when she saw Domo sitting with their company, his chin held high. All the Scouts wore their formal uniforms and complemented the laymen, who wore fine dresses, tailored suits, and bright smiles. The arches of the marble chapel captured and resounded the spring colors and the greens, and kaleidoscopes poured from the stained glass. The flowers were lovely, and the trimmings beautiful, but the light made the whole church heavenly.

Larmie joined Hajule in the front row, and Jamie sat on his mother's right. He wore his cadet uniform, proudly so, and grinned with his teeth showing. He bounced a little, like he used to do when she'd first come to the farm. She recalled his little figure, once shorter than her, and his messy clumps of hair, unbrushed when he could get away. How long it had been, that now his hair should be perpetually combed, cut sharply, and his shoulders adorned with a proud regiment. He looked nearly grown up.

Her beloved clasped her hands fully, and, at last, she took him in. He stood a few inches taller than her (she'd refused heels, naturally) and gazed at her. A white collar shirt and black jacket gave him a classy look, but per both of their wishes, he wore a mint condition cloak, a deeper hue than any of his comrades. His eyes didn't shine wistfully like the rest of the congregation, but looked serene, like a calm before a storm, with wisps of wind blowing away any uncertainty. She breathed again, slowly and carefully, and took peace in the breeze. She determined to be the best of tortures, and the finest of prisons.

"The gods ordain marriage as a holy institution, for the purpose of companionship, for the avoidance of evil, and for the procreation of children. Marriage is a holy bond between a man and a woman, in which the man retains his manhood, and a woman achieves her womanhood. This sacred process is only one way in which we may serve the gods, to honor their rule, and to declare upon ourselves their dominion." The priest paused to bow his head at a figure affixed over the door. "But as all those in this room who are bound to a partner know, marriage extends beyond service to the gods. In a mystical way, when two become one, their love for one another grows into a matchless wonder, if it is cultivated and grown. A man and his wife must join together and stay close, watch for weeds which spring to separate, and tend to their joint garden. They must share their deepest secrets, fears, and wonders. They must protect one another from the vilest of the world. They must join in body to bring new life to the world.

"If any person here sees any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Edie half expected the shadowman, or a hundred other discontent figures, to rise from the back rows or burst through the doors. But she kept her eyes trained on her beloved, kept breathing, until the priest decided that they'd been tortured enough.

"Marriage is a covenant made with the utmost seriousness, and in that terrible consequences for breaking. Likewise, this covenant holds countless blessings in its upholding. Captain, Edie, are you both willing to take up this mantle and uphold it?"

"Yes." They responded in unison, though Edie thought hers was a little quieter than his.

"Then look upon one another as you make this promise." They were already facing one another, and Levi repeated the priest's words. "I, Levi, do take you, Edie, as my lawful wedded wife. In sickness and in health, in joy and in mourning, through the fiercest of storms, to have and to hold, until death do we part."

Her heart welled up within her, as the priest asked the same of her.

"I, Edie, do take you, Levi, as my lawful wedded husband. In sickness, and in health, in joy and in mourning, through the fiercest of storms, to have and to hold, until death do we part."

Whenever that will be. She imagined most brides didn't see marriage as such a temporary commitment, either through their deaths or their husbands. Perhaps for others, marriage was a thirty, forty, even fifty year covenant. For her…she just prayed Petra and the others would keep their promise.

"Now, for the rings."

Her eyes finally registered him, though he'd been towered behind Levi for the whole ceremony, the only other pretending face in the whole building. The commander, dressed similar to the groom (except in a used coat), handed over the rings with a tight smile. Their eyes met, and Edie heard an appointment being made for later that night. She hadn't seen him or talked to him since the day he came to the farm and dreaded that moment.

His back to the war, Levi put a silver band on her finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Edie returned the sentiments with an identical band.

"The gods are our holy protectors, those who erected the mighty walls which protect us from dangers outside. Although our faith is tested, we stand united against any who seek us harm. As a testimony to his faithfulness, the couple will unite their hands in an unending cloth.

The cloth, a gray, knitted infinity scarf, was woven by Katra to match the greens of their home. Levi twisted the cloth once, and they each put a hand through the open ends, like a lawman's restraints, except he held hers willingly.

"In the sight of the gods, I call mercy and prosperity upon this couple. As they have honestly and willingly professed their love and sworn off all others, call down blessings upon their home." He bowed once more to the hung fixture, removed the cloth, and turned them to face the congregation. "It is my great honor and pleasure to present Captain Levi and Edie to you, man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

The captain gingerly put his hands on her cheeks and softly kissed her, for a briefer moment than she expected, and applause deafened the church. Hands clasped together, they walked down the aisle and out the doors, and he led her to the left. Through hallways, turning once left and twice right, they came to a small waiting room with a dresser, draped changing area, and two seats.

"We can greet everyone later," he explained, and kissed her hands. "How are you?"

"I'm married to you," Edie admitted, brimming with a giddiness she couldn't control. "Couldn't be better."

"Jamie mentioned that the last few days have been difficult."

"Only today, really. There's been a lot of…people around."

"Not our fondest moments."

"No. Hajule's entertained most of them, though."

"I thought about coming and sweeping you away for an evening, either yesterday or the day before, but I didn't want anyone to look on you with impropriety. Erwin advised against it."

"He's a wise man."

"He has his moments." Levi kissed her hands again, eyes full of understanding. "You were in another world, walking down that aisle."

"I'm not used to having so many eyes on me."

"It's suffocating, I know. Their expectations don't matter." He put a hand on her cheek. "Only you and I."

"Good."

The moment stretched into a million, and she struggled to figure out what was running through his mind. His eyes flowed with sincerity and care, as they always had, and she wondered what kind of monster the night's sleep had come up with to block out his love for her. This Levi, body and soul, loved her, and no nightmare could change that. No imagined one, at least. Time would tell what the real one would wring. That in mind, his hand on her cheek sent shocks down her spine and set her skin on edge. They were alone, and married, and a good four rooms hidden away from any of their family and friends. She had promised him health and happiness, despite his awareness that nothing could come of their union. Breath stuck in her throat, in anticipation of the infantry's advance.

But the shots never came. He let go of her cheek and retreated to holding her hands. "We'll rejoin them whenever you're ready, and we'll leave whenever you want. There's no obligation."

"Right. Thanks." She breathed deeply as the sensations subsided. "Just a few minutes, then."

He doesn't want to touch me, teased the first thought. Bound in a marital covenant, and he doesn't want to touch me. I was clear, right? I told him that there is no chance of us ever having children and starting a family, so no danger of being saddled with a baby after mere minutes of marriage. But he still doesn't want to touch me.

"I'm going to find us something to drink, okay?" He kissed her forehead. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Alright."

It's obvious, isn't it? He does love you, and he made a promise that he wanted to marry you, and honorable Scout that he is, he doesn't go back on a commitment. Fight till the last man standing, right? So if he said he wanted to marry you, with a ring to boot, then damn it, he'll do it, whether it makes him disappointed or miserable or anything. All that talk about not wanting to bring a child into this miserable world was just talk, to make you feel better and assure you that he loves you for you. Sure, he does, and he's happy now, but he can't stand the thought of making love and having nothing come of it, ever. What's the point? It's all obligation, fulfilling orders for him. So long as you're happy, he's achieved his goal.

Edie pondered this for a moment more, then bit her lip and shook her head. "No. He loves me, and he doesn't think he's trapped. Not now, at least. He would tell me if that was true."

But as they left the room, rejoined the congregation, and celebrated, each touch seemed to confirm the theory. Although they linked constantly to each other's arms, the captain never placed his hands in an unseemly place. For their first dance, he held one of her hands firmly and placed his other high on her waist, lightly, and released as soon as the music relapsed. As they ate, he moved her hair out of her face but never reached under the table to tease, as she thought he might. He assured her with his words and affectionate gaze that all his promises were made of his immediate free will, but his restraint reflected a symbiotic truth.

He loves you, yes. He is not the monster from his nightmares. But you have trapped him, in ways his honor cannot escape. You ought to have told him resolutely, that day in the trees, that he would regret this, that his desire for a legacy would one day outweigh his love for you. He's realized this now, no doubt. I wonder if he will ever want to hold you at all.

There was no time to discuss it now. Streams of happy congratulants, half of whom Edie didn't recognize, came to wish happy tidings. She heard name after name of wonderful Scouts, who had known Levi for varying amounts, but all of whom held him in immense regard. They all reiterated what Petra said earlier, that he was not the same man that he had been, how much of a difference she had made, how happy they were that they were together. Another drop of oil seemed to slide down her throat with every observation they made.

At least some brought something of value.

"Congratulations to the happy couple, surely so happy because of their shared love for the supreme beverage," Hori announced, setting down a fancy yellow tin with a chestnut-colored bow. His nephew skulked behind him and murmured something slightly positive and adjusting his tight collar. "You both are welcome to come by the shop at any time for refills, on the house."

Levi accepted the gift and sniffed the contents. "Echinacea?"

"With dried lemon rind. Too many people harp on the wonders and joys of marriage, and while they are to be had, so come the hardships of life. This is to ease that first sickness, whichever of you it shall befall." Hori clasped his hands and bowed, elbowing Lee in the process. "Many happy returns."

"Thank you," the captain answered for her. She managed to nod and smile.

His four closest comrades came next, all in a near perfect line behind Eld. Levi's second in command clasped his hand and shook resolutely. "Congratulations, captain. We're all truly happy for you." He turned to her, took her hand, and kissed it. "Thank you, Edie. It's difficult to explain, but you've brought something to the regiment. It's not very often one of us survives to adulthood, much less manages to build relationships outside the regiment, much less convince one of those relationships to get married."

"I'll take that as a compliment?"

"Take it as hope. Maybe now we won't always be marching to our deaths."

"Yeah!" Oluo butt in. "If the captain can get married, there's hope for the rest of us!"

"Just us," Gunther added. "Not you. You've got to take regular showers if you expect a girl to want to share a house with you."

"Excuse you. I've cleaned myself exponentially more since being under the captain's command."

"Yeah, because anything more than zero is impressive." Oluo rolled his eyes.

Petra had little else to add, only to shake her captain's hand, hug Edie, and whisper, "we'll keep our promise," in her ear. They all smiled giddily and went on their way.

Edie leaned close to her husband and whispered, "did you threaten them or something?"

"Under penalty of death." He looked deathly serious. "No nonsense."

"You know Hajule and Larmie wouldn't care if they had a little fun?"

"Oh, it's not your parents. I won't have them making fools of themselves in front of the regiment."

"I am glad you invited so many."

"Mm hmm." He covertly pointed to a few, mainly in a crowd. "They didn't believe you were real."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Hange wasn't exactly helpful."

"I can see that."

He laughed, but despite the sudden burst, only kissed her hands again, and went on eating.

After a few hours of eating, drinking, and meeting, Larmie and Hajule walked to the head of the room, arm in arm. The room quieted down (though Edie spotted Petra jabbing a jabbering Oluo in the gut). "Thank you all for coming tonight. Our friends, old and new, thank you for coming to celebrate this wonderful marriage. Hajule and I couldn't be happier to give Edie away in marriage to this wonderful man, who I know some of you met today, and some of you have known for what seems like a lifetime." He lifted his glass around the room, as the adorned Scouts mingled with all the other guests. "From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for your service. I know there are many who scorn what you do, so I will resolutely declare that you always have a place in the Cartwell house." He and others drank to the Scouts' honor. "But we are not here to celebrate well-being, but this wonderful couple here.

"Edie, Levi. Both of you have seen incredible adversity in your lives and overcome, through whatever means necessary. You both care fiercely about your family and friends, about your comrades, and that will aid you well in marriage. Look after one another, comfort one another, and stand by one another through thick and thin. Whenever challenges arise that may seem to tear you asunder, remember this moment, absent from tragedy, when you promised to have and to hold." Larmie lifted his glass once more and held Hajule close. "To Captain Levi and Edie."

Most of the congregation repeated Larmie's benediction, but many of the Scouts responded, "To the captain and his wife!" before taking a drink.

Mr. Solway a speech (with his wife's frequent interjections), Jamie told the story of the titan rampaging their town, and Hange told a story of how Levi once saved an operation, twenty lives, without a single casualty (Edie had heard the story thrice before, but many in the crowd were in wonder and astonishment). The talking subsided, and many couples took to dancing, including the captain and Edie, until a tap on his shoulder paused them.

"Hange wanted to tell you that you owe her one shot," Commander Erwin reminded in a towering tone.

Levi sighed, the first bit of discontentment all night. "Right. I'd promised her years ago that if either of us ever got married, we'd have one glass of wine."

"Devastating," Edie agreed.

"I know. We'll be leaving soon, so I'd better get this over with."

"Not to worry," Erwin said. He took Edie's hand out of Levi's. "I'll keep her company."

With that, Levi went to find Hange, well out of earshot. She and Erwin danced for a few moments in silence, before he bent his head slightly and spoke in a tone only they could hear.

"I dearly hope you've thought this through."

"I have. This is what he wants."

"People want all number of things. It doesn't mean they're healthy."

"No. But it's Levi. He knows what's best for him."

"Does he? Do you truly believe that?"

Erwin raised his arm, and she spun outwards with a cheery smile, then back in. His gaze remained serene. "No."

"You destroyed him. Then, a mere month later, he jumps on his horse and rides to you, coming back with a wedding date already established. Now, tell me, how does a man change his mind that quickly?"

"I don't know."

"He didn't tell you why he pursued?"

"No."

"Well." Erwin stared over her head for a moment. "One of life's great mysteries."

"I didn't chase after him, if that's what you're wondering. I said my piece, and he wanted to marry me. That's all I know."

"I asked you before if you loved him."

"I do."

"I asked you if you would stand with him no matter what."

"I will."

"Has he shared his past with you?"

"Not all of it." She sighed briefly. "I know it's not pretty, I know it's not dangerous, and I know it could very well resurface in the future. Is there anything more you think I should know?"

Erwin pondered this for a moment. "Not at this time."

"Good."

"I don't trust this in the slightest," the commander informed her. "You've gone back and forth with your affections, from sincere to uncaring, but for whatever reason, Levi overlooks this. I don't."

"I know."

"From this moment on, you cannot be uncaring."

"I won't be. I was…I was unsure if this is what he wanted, but now that I know—"

"Good."

"I'll take care of him, I promise." Edie paused their dancing to look Erwin full in the face. "You won't have to put him back together again. If he ever falls apart, we'll both be there to help him."

His eyes betrayed his thoughts, that he really didn't believe her, but given that she was the bride, he lied with a smile. "Good. That's all I wanted to hear."

Just a nine o'clock, a hundred voices joined to say that it was time to go, that the time for celebrations was complete. Hajule brought her traveling bad, and Jamie gave her the longest hug of a lifetime. Larmie bustled from place to place getting things ready, and Hange retrieved his horse. Levi stood at her side through all of it, as every guest leaned in to kiss her cheek, bid them luck and safe travels, until finally they were on his horse and galloping down the road to the mountain. He leaned over his shoulder and called, "you can sleep if you need to; I'll be fine," and her body took that as an order.

Close to midnight, they arrived at the cabin and got everything settled, most importantly sorting their clothes in the dressers. Although she felt sleep coming on again, her husband whisked from room to room, chipper as could be, making sure everything was in place. Edie made sure to put the extra key on top of the dresser and changed into her nightclothes. She sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. He called joyful discoveries from different parts of the house, but stayed away.

When he returned, he was dressed in his own nightclothes, shirtless.

Edie's breath stuck in her throat as she traced him around the room. He slid onto the bed, under the covers, and kissed her gently, quickly. "Sleep well, love." And he lay on the bed, facing the wall.

…oh.

That was that, then.

Edie, more tired than mournful, lay down, too, her back to her husband.

What have I done?