Short story 4: Love at first sight
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April 847 - Stohess
Jacqueline Tennison strode along the main streets of Stohess, her pace brisk, almost a march. She walked alongside the canal, where, in the clear water illuminated by the sunlight, darted the swift and elusive shapes of the fish that made their home there. The flowing skirt of her pastel blue dress, made of soft and precious fabric, rustled around her slender ankles; a turquoise velvet purse hung from her arm, on which rested a languid hand gloved in white lace; and a wide-brimmed white hat cast shade over her fair and delicate complexion. Despite being only seventeen, Jacqueline Tennison radiated a disarming beauty that captivated boys and men of all ages.
I'm monstrously late. If I don't hurry to get to the meeting place, this time I'm in real trouble.
Jacqueline came from a family of dukes that was firmly counted among the most prestigious and wealthy families within the walls. As such, there were certain rules she was expected to follow - never contradict a man, never appear smarter than him, or put him in an awkward position - and traditions she was to conform to - marrying the man her father chose for her and bearing him numerous children to carry on the family name. Beyond that, however, Miss Tennison enjoyed a freedom unknown to her peers: she was allowed to go out accompanied by a governess - who, handsomely paid off by Jackie, often disappeared into a tavern, leaving her entirely alone -, to maintain friendships with young men of her own rank, and to do practically whatever she wished. Her father had granted her these privileges to avoid having to concern himself with her and what she did - a responsibility that, before her passing, had belonged to Jacqueline's mother. These freedoms would last until her marriage, or at least until she caused trouble. Duke Tennison tolerated anything that allowed him to dedicate himself to his vineyard without interruption and fiercely hated anything that distracted him from his favorite pursuit.
The governess accepted the money without comment but had imposed one strict rule: Jacqueline had to appear at the meeting point at the appointed time, as punctual as a clock, or the governess would report their arrangement to the Duke. Jackie knew this, but her meeting with the Marquis Gemini had run long, and not at her insistence…. She had never met a man more vain or self-absorbed. She had spent three full hours in his apartment, an interminable period during which only ten minutes had been dedicated to sex; for the rest of the time, the Marquis had shown her his stamp collection one by one, his eyes shining with enthusiasm and a competence he had unfortunately failed to demonstrate in handling a woman's body in bed.
God, what a boring man! And how awful he was at making love!
And yet...
And yet, Jacqueline needed him.
Not him specifically. No, she would gladly have done without Marquis Gemini if only she could have found an elegant way to break things off without risking a scandal.
No, she just needed a man. Any man, it didn't matter his social class, intelligence, or age, as long as he could hold her in his strong arms, give her some warmth, make her feel alive again, even if only for the brief span of an embrace.
For some time now, Jacqueline had felt nothing but cold. In her hands, her feet, her limbs, her stomach, her head, her heart. Ever since Chloé and her mother had passed away. Her body still moved, stubbornly; it still sent her the impulses necessary for survival, which she fulfilled absentmindedly; it was still alive, but her soul had abandoned her. It had stayed behind, in Shiganshina, among the ruins. The Titans had devoured it.
Jacqueline was doing her best to act like a normal girl her age. She pretended to still have a heart, to take pleasure in music, to be grateful to her father for the comfortable life he provided for her and her brother. She tried to convince herself she still had the will and a reason to live: to enjoy herself to the fullest with men and love, experimenting without taking anything seriously.
Jacqueline was a good actress. Yet, in the darkest hour of the night, the realization that sooner or later the curtain would fall and she would have to face herself, unmasked, in the theater's dressing room haunted her.
That afternoon, however, more immediate concerns weighed on Jacqueline.
This can't be happening! Because of that pathetic man and his ridiculous stamp collection, I'm going to be late for the meeting and get myself in trouble.
With a surge of determination, Jacqueline made a decision: like a soldier, she turned into the first side street, cutting a perfect right angle. The shortcut, which would save her at least five minutes, would take her through the seediest part of the city, but she didn't give it a second thought.
To hell with it, no one's going to attack me in broad daylight, right? This is Stohess, after all!
Later, Jacqueline would tell herself that thought had jinxed her. She hadn't been on the shortcut for more than a few minutes when a hairy, dark-skinned man hurried past her and blocked her path. A blade of light cutting through the rooftops of the narrow alley, so close they almost touched, glinted on the knife in his hands.
Jacqueline flinched, ready to run, but another man, even filthier than the first, was blocking her escape from behind.
"Be a good girl, sweetheart, and nothing bad will happen to you," the man with the knife said, his bearded face twisting into a sneer. "Hand over the purse and the jewels. Quickly."
Jacqueline, pale, raised a hand to her neck, where the necklace that had belonged to her mother hung. She would never give up that memento of her, even if it cost her life. "Leave," she hissed, backing up until she was pressed against the wall. "Leave me alone! If you touch me, I'll scream."
The unarmed man let out a crude laugh. With a surprisingly swift leap, he closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the arm. Under his rough and invasive grip, the silk of her exquisite blue dress tore with a sharp sound.
"Scream all you want, if it makes you feel better. No one's coming to save you."
Jacqueline, however, couldn't find the strength to scream. She had already resigned herself to the worst: that seventeen-year-old girl, who no longer had any reason to live, didn't have the energy to fight back against this violation, nor any reason to do so. Horrified, she stared at the dirty, wrinkled face of the man gripping her arm.
"Let me go…" she murmured faintly, without conviction. "Someone… help me…"
A white hand with perfectly manicured nails emerged from the darkness of the alley, clamping down on the writs of her assailant, who let out a cry of pain and released his grip. Immediately after, a powerful hook landed in his stomach, making him double over in agony.
Jacqueline held her breath.
Her savior was a young man dressed in a soldier's uniform, with refined and elegant features. His face was framed by fine black hair, his almond-shaped eyes radiating an intense, piercing gaze. One detail stood out and sharply contrasted with the ruthless efficiency of his actions: he was rather short: Jacqueline, to her surprise, noticed that he was a few centimeters shorter than her.
"Hey, who the hell do you think you are, bastard?!" The man with the knife lunged at Jacqueline's rescuer with fury, but it was futile. With the same surgical precision he had used to take down the first thug, the soldier blocked the knife swing, seized his attacker by the shoulders, and threw him to the ground, slamming his back hard against the stone-paved street.
As he moved, the cloak draped over his shoulders billowed, revealing the emblem of the Survey Corps hidden among its folds.
The young man straightened as if nothing had happened, adjusted the cloak that had twisted during the fight, and cast her a frosty glare full of contempt. "Get back to the main road. It's dangerous here."
Jacqueline's heart, which had remained cold and indifferent for countless years, tightened. She, who was hungry for life, who was desperately searching for a reason to keep opening her eyes every day and believed she might find it in the warmth of a man's embrace, was now convinced that she had finally stumbled upon the answer she sought. This soldier was perfect. He would surely be able to resurrect her dying soul, similar to a brazier not revived at daybreak.
"Wait!" Jacqueline exclaimed, taking a step towards the soldier, who was already walking away. She stretched out a hand as if to hold him back. "Please, let me thank you for saving me. You might not realize it, but I…"
"I know you're a noble," he cut her off brusquely, his gaze once again filled with pure disdain. "I don't want your money." Then he turned and disappeared into the depths of the city's underbelly.
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February 850 - Trost
"As soon as I got home, I told my father the story. We bent over backward to find out the identity of my savior. Comparing the entries into the city and using my description, it didn't take long to figure out who it was. A soldier of the Survey Corps, strong as hell, but gruff and short." As she recounted the conclusion of the story, Jacqueline shook her head, amused. She planted her elbows on the table and rested her chin on the palm of one hand. "And that's the fairytale of how I met Captain Levi."
"Wow, Jackie, what a story! Truly incredible!" Mizuki clapped her hands, delighted. "I expected the captain to make a strong impression when saving you, but I didn't think his appearance was so epic."
Lavinia, seated next to Mizuki, rolled her eyes. "Please. Epic appearance? Strong impression? That man has the tact of a Titan."
"What can I say? It was love at first sight." Jacqueline took a long sip of tea and sighed contentedly as she recalled the origins of her crush on Captain Levi. "I saw his muscles in action, and I never forgot them. The rest is history. I pressured my father to invite him to the annual meeting with Commander Erwin Smith. We met again in 848 and then in 849…"
"The famous invitation to Tennison Mansion in 849! The beginning of a friendship!" Mizuki beamed at the memory.
Lavinia shot her an irritated glance, but Jacqueline nodded. "Yes, and a blow to my pride… Oh well, I endure it because I care about you. Even though giving up the captain's handsome face wasn't easy."
Even those words - the comment about caring for Mizuki - drew Lavinia's scorn, which she swiftly redirected towards Captain Levi. "That man is already full of himself, even without being worshipped like this, you know?" she said, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.
"Anyway," Mizuki said, furrowing her brow as she twirled her teacup between her hands, "The captain assured me he didn't know you were a noble. Otherwise - his words - he'd never have helped you! Actually, let me correct that: he explicitly said that if he'd known, he'd have let them slit your throat! What a liar! I said it before, he'd never leave anyone in trouble, not even the King himself!"
"Twice the liar!" Jacqueline declared dramatically. "He knew perfectly well. He practically insulted me because of my noble birth!"
"I've been saying for a while now that, aside from his superhuman strength, that guy has no redeeming qualities," Lavinia muttered.
"Hey, you three. Are you planning to keep talking about me as if I'm not here much longer?" Levi slammed his teacup on the table and shot a withering glare at the three women.
He was particularly irritable that evening. Just half an hour earlier, he'd been sitting at a table in the canteen hall of Headquarters with the brat. It was rare for them to spend time alone outside his office, and he had been savoring every moment of it. Mizuki was chattering endlessly about some affair between Daniel, Michael, and Susan, a love triangle that, according to her, was about to explode and cause a scandal within the Corps: "Are you following me? Michael saw Susan training with Daniel, and then he figured it out. Not because they were training together, but because of the way she touched his hands while showing him the correct way to control the gas... Oh, Commander Erwin is going to have a field day sorting this mess out! He'll have to use all his diplomacy!" It was a topic Levi didn't give a damn about, and yet he listened to her attentively, because he loved listening to her, no matter what the subject was; he loved the sound of her voice; he loved the way she'd ask if he was still following her, with sparkling eyes, at the end of her rambling stories.
Then, the idyll had shattered.
Lavinia had joined them, glaring defiantly at Levi as she clung to Mizuki. And the worst was yet to come: ten minutes later, Jacqueline had shown up as if nothing were amiss, drawing every man's attention to the breathtaking neckline of her dress. Ever since she'd moved to Trost, she often frequented the barracks to chat with Mizuki, despite being barely tolerated by those closest to her - namely Levi and Lavinia, for obvious reasons, and Petra, who struggled to remain polite but couldn't stomach her aristocratic airs. Until now, however, she had never managed to slip into the building at night, when access was restricted to soldiers.
"Honestly, Captain! I've already heard your version of the story; now I wanted Jacqueline's!" Mizuki tried to placate him, absentmindedly stroking Lavinia's back as the latter leaned against her.
"Attention-seeker," Lavinia hissed through her teeth, clinging even closer to her friend with her usual competitive air towards Levi.
Jacqueline covered her face with her hands in a gesture of feigned affectation that ended up looking rather ridiculous. "Please try to understand, Captain, it was necessary for you to remain silent! It's not easy for a young lady to recount the story of her failed love in the presence of the man in question, especially when that man is likely to add his own biting commentary!"
Mizuki shook her head indignantly and cast the captain a reproachful look.
"Tsk." Feeling like he was being mocked, and not even too subtly, by those three girls who still smelled of milk, Levi changed tactics, hoping to chase Jacqueline away. "Anyway, what the hell are you doing here? This is a barracks, not a reception hall."
Unfortunately for him, Levi had miscalculated. He'd grown accustomed to the brat's cheekiness, but nothing could have prepared him for Jacqueline Tennison's astounding audacity. "I'm a taxpayer," the former noble chirped, inspecting her nails. "As such, I have the right to check how public funds are being spent. That's how I managed to get in."
"The truth is, she's sleeping with Richard, who's on gate duty tonight," Lavinia contradicted her pragmatically. Though Levi, in her eyes, was the most dangerous rival at the table, her strongest feelings of irritation and hostility were directed at Jacqueline, whom she saw as the worst kind of threat. To Lavinia, Jacqueline's sole goal was to take what little space she still held in Mizuki's heart. And so, all her sharpest, most venomous barbs - disguised as casual remarks - were aimed squarely at her.
"What? Richard?" Mizuki blushed furiously, though her embarrassment didn't stop her from giving Jacqueline a look that was equal parts admiration and disbelief. "But aren't you sle… I mean, haven't you… I mean, aren't you intimate with Seth?"
"I sleep with, have sex with, and am intimate with both Richard and Seth," Jacqueline clarified matter-of-factly. "I'm not monogamous, and I've never claimed to be. Each of them has qualities the other doesn't, so they balance each other out. You understand? Richard is… well, long, but he doesn't know how to use it. Seth, on the other hand, is ridiculously small, but… wow, does he know what he's doing. Follow me? Besides, I need some distraction after being forced to accept the love between you and the captain! What? Should I lower my voice? Mizuki, are you okay? You're so red you look congested…"
The situation had spiraled completely out of control. Mizuki was gesturing wildly, stammering incoherent, nonsensical phrases before pausing to catch her breath; Jacqueline was laughing heartily, showing off her perfect, dazzling teeth; and Lavinia was glaring at the scene with clenched fists, her cheek stubbornly pressed against Mizuki's arm.
Levi had had enough.
And to think, the evening had started off so well.
He stood up and headed towards the kitchen to wash his teacup. Before leaving the table, however, he cast one last glance at the three girls, focusing especially on the ex-duchess.
The first time he'd seen Jacqueline Tennison, two details about her had struck him. First: she was a noble, and a rather reckless one, too, given that she had ventured into the slums of Stohess wearing expensive clothes and jewelry. Second: that she looked like a walking corpse. He could still recall the discomfort he'd felt at her apathetic, detached demeanor, as though she cared for neither herself nor the world around her, a demeanor that not even an attempted robbery had managed to shake.
The young woman now sitting in the barracks illegally, her eyes brimming with laughter-induced tears, was unrecognizable.
She was alive, that woman. Still fucking noble, but alive.
And it was highly likely that the hand responsible for planting the seed of her rebirth wasn't far away.
Levi turned his back on the group and slipped away. The sounds of chatter and laughter accompanied him gently as he stepped into the icy, deserted hallway and made his way towards the kitchen.