#erejeanweek

"My mum told me another story about the doctor!" Connie's voice was hushed but shaking with excitement. "She said there once was a pair of young lovers who loved each other more than life. But their parents wanted to keep them apart. They arranged for them to be married to different people and the lovers had no choice but to obey their parents' will."

Gasping and mumbling all around as Connie took the time for a dramatic pause.

"But the night before the ceremonies were to be held they ran away together, deep into the woods until they found the hospital. And within, the doctor." Another pause but this time the children hushed each other when either of them wanted to speak up or ask what happened to the lovers, giving Connie time to build the suspense even more.

"The lovers told him about their suffering and he saw how deeply they loved each other. Of course he did not have the power to change the will of their parents or the fact they were to be married to strangers come morning. But he suggested an intervention that would allow them to be together, even while they were being pulled apart."

Slowly the first kids began to understand where the story was headed while others struggled to follow, unable to imagine what kind of horrible intervention it was the doctor was proposing. But when none of them said a word Connie continued and his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Desperate as they were the young couple agreed to have the surgery done. The doctor started with the young man, cutting open his chest and prying apart his ribs so he could cut out his beating heart. Then he did the same to the woman, until both of their chests were hollow and empty. Then he ... exchanged their hearts. Sewing his into her chest and hers into his."

More gasping, horrified cries and protests, but Connie pressed on.

"That's how it happened, how he exchanged the lovers' hearts so they could always be together."

"Did they ... did they survive?", asked a pale girl with dark pigtails. Connie nodded solemnly.

"Oh, they survived the surgery. But the young woman's new husband was terribly jealous of the man whose heart was now beating in his bride's chest. He snuck out one night, barely a week after their wedding, and stabbed a dagger straight through the young man's chest so he would never tempt his wife to become unfaithful to him. But as the young man died, slowly bleeding out in the tavern, so did the young woman whose heart had been pierced by the dagger. The doctor's promise had been kept. They had stayed connected until their last shared breath, when both their hearts gave out."

"And you really think this hospital is somewhere out there in the woods?", Eren asked once Jean had finished his story, his explanations about the hospital and the little doctor parents had been telling their children about for decades. Jean worried his lower lip between his teeth. It was bitten almost bloody by now. He shrugged.

"I don't know", he finally whispered because who was he to decide whether the hospital was really just a scary story to keep the children of the village in line? What if it wasn't? "But I know that I can't go back. I can't just go back to my life the way it was before and pretend you never happened."

It was quiet between them for a while, Eren's red rimmed eyes studying Jean in the warm afternoon sun. He was so beautiful, so full of live, even struck with grief. Even desperately searching for exits he could not find.

Jean knew that even if he asked Eren to stay, his father would never allow it. He was too dependent on his son to help him with his work, travelling from town to town. Besides they both knew that even if Eren found a way to stay they would not have the happy future together they had tricked themselves into believing in over the summer.

Jean's parents expected him to give them grandchildren one day, they expected him to carry on the legacy of his father's shop and raise his own children to do the same. As it had been in their family for generations.

But if they really did find the old hospital deep in the woods, if they could talk to the little doctor and ask for his help ... maybe he could offer them a way to stay connected for the rest of their lives. And even if they had no other future together than drawing their last breaths at the same moment, then it would still be worth it.

The one to break the silence after a long while, when the sun had already moved enough to dip his face in shadows, was Eren.

"Let's do it right now", he murmured, bright, bright eyes finding Jean's. They held the same determination Jean had fallen irrevocably in love with months ago. "If that place exists let's go find it right now."

He got up from where they were sitting underneath the oak tree and wiped his fingers on his rough trousers. Then he held out his hand for Jean. Without hesitation, without even thinking, Jean took it.

~

They reached the hospital long after midnight, first having followed the paths deeper into the forest than Jean had ever dared, then making their way through the underbrush where human's barely tread. But Eren's determination kept them going along with the tales of his childhood Jean recalled for his lover, trying to decipher hints of where to turn, in which direction they had the best chances of finding what they were looking for.

After hours of searching in the darkness, when Jean was close to giving up, finally willing to admit that the stories he remembered were nothing more than that, the brick walls covered in ivy appeared in front of them, trees parting to give way to a massive building with two sprawling wings and a centre part with a huge main portal.

Jean's steps came to a halt at the sight of the hospital, mouth forming quiet words of disbelief as he stared up the thick walls, taking in the blind windows and only partly decked roof. Some of the tiles had fallen and burst all over the ground next to the building.

"It's true", he whispered and his knees began to buckle and shake, "it's all true..."

He remembered the other stories, the ones about disfigured creatures roaming the grounds, about horrible experiments carried out in the basement, and his heart leapt all the way into his throat.

Eren looked at him, eyes flicking between Jean and the building in front of them, before gently tugging him along towards the main portal, the only entry they could see. He had not let go of Jean's hand since first grabbing it to help him stand after their conversation. Despite his inner refusal Jean let himself be tugged along, squeezing Eren's fingers tightly as they pressed on.

It didn't take long for two figures to appear from the darkness, framing the entryway. They were tall and looked like regular men but something about them was off, something to do with their proportions or their faces, with their too pronounced jaw lines and too straight noses. The longer Jean looked at them, eyes flicking between them, the harder it was for him to tell what about their appearance caused the growing discomfort at the pit of his stomach.

They came to a halt at a mostly safe distance, right at the bottom of the few stairs leading up to the portal.

"We want to speak to the doctor", Eren called out, his voice even and loud enough to be thrown back at them from the walls almost surrounding them. "We're interested in a certain ... procedure."

For a long moment the ... guards, Jean supposed, didn't react.

Then, as if on a silent order, they both reached out at the same moment to grab one door handle each, pulling open the heavy wings of the portal with a deafening screech that echoed deep into the cavernous corridors of the hospital. Jean had to suppress a violent shudder at the noise, nails digging into Eren's fingers, the only anchor he could find that very moment.

Then Eren was already tugging him along again, up the worn down steps towards the dark maw of the building.

Jean tried to not look at the guards as they passed them, huge figures towering over them, but his eyes still flicked up to their partly hidden faces, trying to catch a glimpse of their gazes ... and failing. Where he had expected to meet stern eyes he only found hollow darkness within empty sockets.

His heart thumped against his ribs and he almost tripped over his own feet, quickly stumbling after Eren into the building, away from the looming figures with their empty faces.

"Did you see that?", he hissed as soon as the doors had closed behind them with the same bone chilling noise from before. "Did you ... they ... their eyes..."

"Yes", Eren hummed back, attentive gaze already taking in their new surroundings while Jean was still trying to get his shivering under control.

"It means we're in the right place."

For a moment that gave Jean pause. Of course they were in the right place. How many hospitals deep in the woods could there be for them to find the wrong one? But then he understood what Eren really meant and his heart thumped heavily in his chest once more. As a boy he had never heard a story about the guards at the gates of the hospital. But then again what place would be guarded by blind giants with these strange, non-human proportions to their bodies? 

If the doctor really existed, if this was were he lived and conducted his experiments, then the guards must be part of those. A sign they had come to the right place to seek for help.

Taking a deep breath that only made him slightly less jittery Jean allowed himself to look around as well. They were standing in an ample entrance hall that was only sparsely lit by the moonlight filtering in through tall windows, blind and cracked. The patterns of the floor tiles must have been beautiful once, Jean could make out vague shapes of vines and colourful flowers, but most of them were cracked and covered in thick layers of dirt and dust.

Right across from the door they had wandered through were two enormous staircases laid out with old, dark carpet, winding their mirrored way into the upper levels of the building. Behind those an arrangement of what must have once been beautiful stained glass windows Jean had only seen the likeness of once before when he visited the cathedral of the capitol with his mother. Now those windows were splintered and dusty, barely letting through any of the moonlight.

Far above them, under the distant, dark ceiling, hung a chandelier with burnt out candles. It looked strangely asymmetrical, as if parts of it had fallen off, and Jean felt the urge to step out from underneath it lest another cluster of sanded glass took this opportunity to rain down on them.

Eren didn't seem to share his concern. His gaze was flicking around the entrance hall, peeking down the adjacent corridors to both sides, before shaking his head with a grumble.

"Doctor!", he called out, sudden and loud enough for Jean to jump next to him. "We have a job for you! Come out! Let's talk!"

While the echoes of Eren's voice slowly grew quieter Jean was still shaking where he stood, not even the touch of his lover's fingers intertwined with his own able to keep him calm anymore.

For a long time there was no answer, only the deafening silence of the old hospital pressing down on them from all sides. Jean caught a quiet, terrified part of himself hoping the building would stay silent. That he would never have to face the doctor, never see for himself what this figure he had only known from scary stories all his life was truly capable of.

But that would mean they had come here for nothing. Worse yet, that would mean Eren would leave and Jean would have nothing to remind him of their summer together but his own memories, for the rest of their lives. That seemed like a much more cruel fate than facing down some hermit doctor in a dusty old hospital.

Next to him Eren seemed to get more agitated the longer they were waiting for something to happen in the oppressive silence of the entrance hall. He began to tug Jean forward, left and right across the dusty old floors, without ever being able to choose a direction to head into. How could they tell where exactly in this sprawling building the man they were looking for was hiding?

So after a while of aborted tugging and turning Eren came to an abrupt stop and took another deep breath.

"We know you're here!", he shouted, this time loud enough Jean could swear he heard the chandelier far above their heads clink and rattle. "Show yourself! You have two new patients!"

How surreal, Jean thought while watching Eren shout for the doctor, that he would ever find himself in the situation to willingly become a patient in the hospital deep in the woods. He regarded the absurdity of the situation with a detached kind of interest and slowly felt himself slip away. The longer they waited the less real their situation seemed until at one point Jean was close to bursting into laughter for no reason at all.

But all that disappeared when he heard the muffled noise of steps on carpeted stairs and his eyes found a small figure descent the staircase to their left. From one second to the other Jean was back inside his body, back in the entrance hall of the hospital, about to face down what could only be the doctor.

The man who appeared at the upper landing of the stairs was indeed of a short figure, his body hidden behind a floor length surgical gown and a white apron, both carrying dark stains Jean didn't want to think about too much. He was wearing gloves as well that covered his hands and forearms all the way up to his elbows, the upper parts the same pristine white while the fingers and palms were stained in a similar fashion as the apron.

His hair was hidden under a surgical cap, his mouth and nose covered by a white mask and there was a strange piece of equipment strapped in front of one eye. An array of meticulously cut lenses in different sizes, all layered atop one another, making the eye that peered at them from behind them seem huge and owlish as it blinked at them. If it hadn't been for all of the blood covering the man the lenses would have made him look almost comical. Like this it only worsened his appearance, made him look even more horrifying.

He didn't say anything until he had reached the bottom of the stairs where he deftly removed one of the gloves - Jean could swear he saw the fresh blood glisten in the moonlight - before pulling the mask away from his face, letting it snap under his chin. His nose was wrinkled and his lips pursed as he studied them for a moment, then clicked his tongue at them like an impatient mother.

"Two noisy patients", he commented and his voice was low and gravelly, much more so than Jean would have expected looking at his mostly unassuming form. "Say brat, do you scream like that wherever you go? There are people here trying to recover."

For some reason those words sent a cold shiver down Jean's spine. Standing in this old hospital was already frightening enough even if one assumed it was empty. But to think some of the old rooms were actually inhabited by patients this very moment? That they were not alone here with the doctor and his nightmarish guards? He had not considered that before, as deserted as the place looked, but for some reason it made him feel uneasy. Even more so than he had already been.

"Sorry, I must have missed the reception. Would you be so kind and point me to it?" Eren's words were dripping with sarcasm and Jean was this close to slapping a hand over his lover's mouth before he could say anything else that might get them in trouble. But the doctor only huffed, whether in annoyance or amusement Jean could not tell.

"Careful", he growled at Eren before his sharp grey eyes flicked over at Jean, both the normal one and the disgustingly enlarged one behind the many lenses. "Why are you here?"

Jean swallowed at being addressed this directly but the tightness in his throat didn't want to disappear. He forced himself to speak either way.

"We heard you can offer certain ... procedures. For couples."

Grey eyes wandered between them, studying Eren's cocky face closely before returning to Jean's, taking a close look at his cheek bones, the shape of his nose, the arc of his lips. Like he were studying an interesting specimen, curious but detached.

"You'll have to be more specific", the doctor said, his voice even. Behind his thin lips his teeth were shimmering white and perfectly aligned. Jean was still searching for the right words, for a description of what they had come here for that didn't make him want to turn on his heels and run home without looking back, when Eren was already speaking.

"The heart exchange", he blurted and how his voice could sound so even and assured Jean would never understand. But he was endlessly grateful for it still. "A transplantation. His heart in my chest, my heart in his."

When he said it like that, with such confidence and trust, such certainty, Jean remembered why they had agreed on the idea in the first place. For a moment not even the doctor's knowing grin could scare him.

"Ahh, that kind of procedure. An interesting choice. Only made by the ... truly desperate ones."

Without warning the doctor reached out then, grabbing Eren's chin with his bare hand and slowly turning his head from side to side, studying him even more closely. For a moment Jean could feel his lover tense beside him and he had a feeling Eren might slap the doctor's hand away any second now.

But instead of showing any protest Eren allowed the shorter man to study his face for an uncomfortably long time. When the doctor finally let go he was wearing a subtly pleased expression, nodding to himself.

"You two will do nicely. I can give you what you're looking for. Connect your fates until you share your very last breath."

Something inside Jean's chest fluttered at that promise. Maybe his heart was excited as he was for its new home inside the man he loved.

"Thank you", he breathed, eyes flicking over to Eren who seemed just as elated as Jean felt. It had been worth it, their search through the woods, Eren's insistence to press on for both their sakes. No matter how unsure the future was, this was their chance to set it right the only way they could and ensure they would stay together.

"Now ... the only thing left to discuss before we start: Payment."

The single word settled heavily in Jean's stomach, sending cold trembles along his arms. Payment? None of the stories he ever heard as a kid had ever involved any form of payment. As far as he knew the doctor was looking for volunteers, not customers. But maybe the stories had not been entirely accurate. Or maybe the doctor had changed his policies over the years.

"Payment?", Jean repeated, voice quiet, unsure. "We ... we don't have anything. We didn't bring anything we could offer you, I'm..."

"Oh, don't you worry", the doctor cooed in a tone of voice that seemed entirely unbefitting to how he had presented himself before, his attention turning back on Jean. Before he could twist away that hand had grabbed his chin as well, tilting his head so the doctor could peer straight into his eyes, inspecting them through the layers of lenses in front of his face.

"You have plenty to pay me with, young boy..."

~

They left the hospital early in the morning two days later, the procedure they had come for a success. Jean could feel himself getting stronger each hour, the familiar rhythm of Eren's heart in his chest thrumming him along. Hidden deep in the woods they had forged a connection that would outlast their physical separation, that would hold them together even as they set out on different paths for their lives.

The price the doctor had asked of them was nothing compared to what they had gained, a kind of payment they had both been happy to grant the doctor in exchange for carrying out the procedure as planned.

When the heavy doors of the hospital fell shut behind them Jean glanced up at the guard to his right. He was not surprised to find a familiar green eye looking down at him, a gaze he had caught countless times over the summer. When Jean turned his head to look at the other guard a single eye looked blankly back at him, warm honey he had known from mirrors all his life glistening in the morning sun.

A small price to pay, he reminded himself as Eren tugged him away from the hospital and towards the treeline, for love.

~

He had been travelling for most of the day, the sun beating down on his burnt neck, forcing him to work his way through his water supply more quickly than he had calculated for, and the only sign of life he had seen were the hulking, moving outlines far on the horizon. The danger of being detected by the monsters was ever present but never did any of the shifting shapes move closer, keeping their distance as they roamed the once fertile land.

It was close to nightfall and hunger was stabbing painfully through Jean's stomach when he finally saw the familiar shapes of Shiganshina's gates appear behind the top of a flowing hillside. The town was much smaller than he remembered. Partly due to him having been barely fourteen years old the last time he had visited, partly due to entire streets of houses having collapsed under the onslaught of the Greekin.

As he made his way through the rubble Jean recognized certain corners and buildings, memories of the happy summers he had spent out here, so far from the cold, dark walls of the academy. He remembered the stairs leading to the market place that he would race up and down while playing catch with the other children, remembered Armin's house where they would sit on the steps in front of the door and read together. Remembered the old church, the bells ringing out around dinner time. Remembered the street corner where he had first run into the green eyed boy he would kiss many summers later, under the shade of the sturdy oak tree just outside the gates.

The oak tree had long since been burned down, only a charred stump remaining where it had once stretched its mighty crown into the sky.

Jean was not able to make out where Armin's old house had once stood, among the rubble of the buildings that had collapsed during one of the attacks. The church had been reduced to burnt out remains, the bare skeleton keeping part of the structure upright, threatening to collapse at any gust of wind strong enough to shake it.

But the corner where he had first met Eren, barrelled straight into him running to make it to his lesson on time only to get right into a brawl with the moody boy, that corner he found almost untouched. And when he rounded the corner and peeked into the alley that lay behind, a leaden weight began to loosen its tight grip around Jean's heart.

The house was not exactly like he remembered it. The roof had partly collapsed but the walls seemed to still be intact. If he was lucky, and Jean always hoped to be, he would be able to find what he was looking for. The front door was barely hanging on its hinges, creaking ominously as he pushed it open and stepped into the house. In his memory it had been much larger but memories could be deceiving. He had been just a boy back then, enjoying his summers without a care in the world about what was creeping up on the horizon. Now he knew better and he needed to be prepared.

The steps leading down into the basement were creaking under his boots, the noise loud enough to make him flinch. He dearly hoped there was nothing hiding in the ruins around him that might be interested in investigating the disturbance.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs Jean wrapped a careful hand around the door knob and tried to turn it, but of course the door was locked. Examining it for a moment he decided that it seemed to be much more sturdy than the front door and had survived the years of decay without much damage at all.

Years ago, when Jean had still spent carefree summer in Shiganshina he only had to reach out and mutter an incantation for locks of any kind to spring open for him. This one had posed as little a problem as any other ordinary lock and he remembered sneaking down here at night with Eren, eager to find out just what his father was hiding behind that unusally sturdy door. Neither of them would have expected just what they found after Jean had whispered the door open.

Nowadays Jean had to use much more traditional methods.

The lockpick was a familiar weight between his fingers as he pulled it from his bag and inserted it carefully into the keyhole. But he had only been working to pry open the rusty old lock for a few minutes when he heard the creak of floor boards behind him.

Before he could compute the cold shiver running all the way from the back of his head down his neck and spine, let alone try and turn around to see who or what was approaching, he heard a familiar metallic clicking noise. Then there was a voice coming from the upper landing of the staircase.

"Step away from the door."

With no real way to defend himself, gun strapped to his thigh but too hard to remove and whirl around before a hole was blown through his skull, Jean followed the command. He went so far as to slowly raise his hands above his head, making sure the man at the top of the stairs could see the object in his hands was not a weapon. Then he took a slow step back, still facing the heavy basement door.

"Look, I don't want any trouble. I just came here for a book and then I'll get out of your hair."

A dry laugh full of sarcasm.

"You're gonna get out of my hair, period. There's no way I'll give you anything behind that door."

That gave Jean pause. He took a shallow breath, narrowed his eyes. If the basement still contained what he had come here for it would be useless to most people. Dusty spell books and incantations only those with a suitable background would understand. Only those practised and well versed in the arcane who had studied the subjects long before humanity had lost the Iris.

Aside from fellow former sorcerers there were few people who would care if Jean broke into this basement to retrieve a dusty old book. And only one his mind immediately jumped to.

"Eren?"

His lips had formed the name, so familiar yet distant like a memory almost lost to time, before he could consider just how likely that suspicion was.

The floor boards upstairs creaked like the other man had shifted his weight. He gave no indication if Jean was right, though.

"Turn around", the voice bellowed and Jean slowly followed the command.

On the top of the stairs, backlit by the orange glow of the setting sun, stood a man of roughly the same age as Jean. His clothes were stained and tattered, his hair a mess, his jaw stubbled. But those eyes Jean would recognize anywhere.

The man seemed to recognize Jean in turn, his hard expression shifting into confusion as he slowly lowered the gun that had been steadily pointed at Jean.

"What ... what are you doing here?", Eren asked, his voice much quieter than the command he had snapped before.

This was not at all like any reunion Jean had ever pictured in the privacy of his bed. Yet his heart was thumping against his ribs all the same and it was not just because of the barrel he had stared straight into moments ago.

"I told you: I'm looking for a book." A brief pause. Then he added: "I heard your father won't need it anymore. I'm so sorry."

For a second Eren's face twisted into something hard and unforgiving that almost turned him unrecognisable to Jean. Maybe he should not have mentioned the old man. Or his death.

The message of Master Jäger's end had reached Jean mere weeks ago even though the event itself had come to pass months before. The old sorcerer and the handful of his guards had been attacked by Greekin on their way to Shiganshina, caught outside without shelter and overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies crossing their way.

But the circumstances of his death had made Jean suspicious. There were whispers on the streets about something in the destroyed settlement that would tempt the old man to hire personal guards and leave the secure walls of the Bastion. Something that would help him rebuild what had been lost. Even though nobody Jean talked to seemed to believe in any of the rumours they still circulated. They still gave hope to those who had lost it.

Maybe it was the most foolish thing Jean would ever do but he could not resist undertaking the same journey, needing to find out just what Master Jäger had been on the hunt for. What he had not gotten the chance to rescue from his basement while fleeing the city.

"His books are not here anymore", Eren said, his voice still cold. But there was something in his eyes, still as expressive as they had been all those years ago, in the blistering summer heat under the old tree just outside the gates. "I took them away."

"Away...", Jean mindlessly repeated, then blinked once, twice. "Where did you take them?"

Eren had never seemed very interested in his father's research. Even when they had been kids quietly sneaking into the basement the intrigue on his part had stemmed from the secrecy, the hidden things he could uncover where his father went to work without him. Once they had broken in and his father's lab had turned out to be a whole lot of books and not much else of interest to him he had been disenchanted rather quickly.

Unlike Jean who would have spent hours upon hours sifting through the notes and scroll and books on topics he could not even find in the grand library of the academy if it hadn't been for Eren's mother catching them in the act. What he had caught glimpses of during their brief foray into the basement though had stayed on his mind for all the years to come. And he still remembered it now, well enough to leave the secure walls of the Bastion in search of the knowledge he had once been kept from soaking up.

Enough time had passed after his question that Jean decided Eren wouldn't answer him like that. Not without being properly persuaded at least.

"Back in the Bastion of Dawn there was word on the street your father worked on restoring what we lost. A kind of ... artificial Iris that would allow us to connect with the arcane again, that would give us a fighting chance against the Greekin. Whatever he wanted to come here to look for was important enough he risked being killed. It must be something valuable, something that can help."

Instead of showing the reaction Jean had hoped for, maybe relief or excitement, Eren only scoffed, rolled his eyes. That he did not raise the gun again out of sheer annoyance was the only good thing Jean took from that kind of reaction.

"Because sorcery helped us so well the first time we got attacked", he mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

And with that Jean understood the sudden hostility.

He had heard about the fall of Shiganshina, how the few villagers gifted with a connection to the Iris had stood in the way of their attackers, had tried to defend the settlement long enough for a successful evacuation. But they had fallen much too soon, leaving the village defenceless as the Greekin approached. More than half of the population had been razed, Eren's mother among them.

Grisha Jäger had travelled for an emergency meeting at the old capital mere days before the attack, leaving the less trained magic users to fight for themselves. Had there been more sorcerers, or simply ones that were better trained, maybe Shiganshina would not have fallen that fast. Maybe more people could have been saved.

But the tragedy had gotten lost among the many others and Jean had pushed it away, assuming Eren had fallen alongside his mother and their childhood friends, slain on the dusty streets of Shiganshina.

"I had a feeling some thief would come to search for his old stuff sooner or later. But I never expected it to be you..."

Jean's arms and shoulders began to ache but he didn't yet dare lower them. Not while Eren was still holding that gun and was this obviously pissed. He did try to gave a nonchalant shrug though, not sure if he really projected the ease he wanted to with the movement.

"Why not? I learned from him, I know his work. If there's anyone who can finish what he started it's me."

Another scoff but this one did not carry quite as much heat.

"You always were a cocky asshole." The grumble was low but Jean liked to imagine it carried traces of old fondness. It was the only thing giving him the bravery to utter:

"And you always liked that about me, if I remember correctly."

Eren didn't visibly react to the words but, once again, neither did he raise his gun to shoot Jean for his audacity. That was as good a sign as any, Jean supposed.

"The only thing I liked about you was how you'd leave me the fuck alone come autumn."

The words were harsh but they didn't bite Jean the way there were probably supposed to. Not when he remembered their kisses underneath the oak tree and the way Eren's eyes had glistened suspiciously the last time they said goodbye to each other standing underneath the sturdy gates.

That had been the last autumn of peace before the Greekin attacked in the following spring, weeks before Jean was supposed to travel to Shiganshina to continue his studies with Master Jäger.

Jean let out a tense breath through his nose. Eren had always been more stubborn than anyone else he'd known. This song and dance didn't help and time was ticking by fast while they were standing here. The sun was already dipping low against the horizon and he really had not planned to be here after it set.

"Are you gonna tell me where you took the books or not?"

For a moment Eren hesitated and it seemed like he would evade the question, dance around the subject even more. Tell Jean to mind his own business, to leave and never come back.

But in the end he let out a long, slow sigh, shoulders sagging.

“It’s quite a way. Didn’t want anyone to just stumble over them while searching the ruins.”

So Eren had taken them away from the village? Several backpacks worth of old books and scrolls? No matter what he said he had to see the inherent value in his father’s notes or he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to protect them. Let alone from made up thieves.

He wouldn’t have done that, taken the books to a secure location instead of destroying them, if he didn’t think someone could make good use of the collected information.

“How far did you take them?”

“Two days west”, Eren shrugged, his piercing eyes trailing down Jean’s body, bruised and dirty from his travels. “Maybe three, considering the state you’re in.”

Of course. It was suitable to Jean’s luck that just after reaching what he thought was his destination he would find out he still had three more days of travel before he could find what he was looking for. But then again it had been his inherent luck that Eren even found him here. Otherwise he would have broken into an empty basement and never found what he set out to retrieve at all.

In the end, Jean gave a grim nod, ready to keep going on his journey until he had found the valuable information he was hunting.

“I’m not going back before I have the notes”, he said and Eren’s expression shifted again. His challenging stare softened, a smirk appearing on his lips that could almost be called proud. There was still that old fondness lurking behind his green eyes as he stepped back and nodded for Jean to follow.

“We should get going, then. The sun is setting and the next suitable shelter is at the other end of the village.”

He didn’t have to tell Jean twice. Taking two steps at a time he climbed the stairs until he had reached his childhood friend at the top. As they turned toward the open door they fell into a rhythm of quiet steps that was more comforting and familiar than anything Jean had been able to build even in the safety of the Bastion of Dawn.

~

While he explained the situation with as few words as possible Jean carefully stepped closer towards the slave. Fingering along the stolen key ring he found the one that would open the rusty padlock keeping the chain in place, looped through the ring at the back of the collar.

"Mother is the only one who believes in my innocence. But with father dead and Reiner seizing control of the castle her influence is dwindling. She'll be safe here. But we need to leave or we'll both be hanged come morning."

Once he had firmly grasped the correct key he reached for the padlock. But before he could try and slot it into the keyhole a heavy hand came up and slapped his fingers aside. The slave's bright eyes were burning as he turned towards Jean, twisting the back of the collar and the padlock keeping the chain in place out of his reach.

When he spoke it was with a growl that sounded like it belonged this deeply under the earth, like it came from the heart of the mountain instead of his body.

"And why should I trust you, little fox?" His accent was thick and harsh, typical for a man from the savage tribes up North. Just like his stocky build and darker skin and bright eyes were showcasing his lineage. "Who tells me you're not here to lead me to the gallows yourself?"

For a moment Jean didn't have a good answer to that. He wasn't sure what the slave had noticed of the chaos breaking out all over the castle, of the guards being sent out to capture Jean and throw him into the dungeon right along his obedient servant who had supposedly killed the King on his command. The slave had been seized and taken away into the mountain immediately upon the discovery of the King's body. He probably did not know about the guards patrolling above them to find Jean.

This would have been much easier had Reiner only planted the bloody dagger on any of the slaves that had been serving Jean for years and years. The people who had helped raise the prince, who had kept him company and made sure his needs were met at all times. Those would trust Jean to the ends of the earth, they would offer their throats for him to open with his rapier if only he promised them it was necessary.

But this new slave that had only recently been caught wandering their lands and offered to the prince as a gift, this savage who had known freedom all his life and still needed to get used to working at a King's court, he didn't trust Jean to do as much as shake his hand. Let alone lead him out of this cell when the promise of the gallows was hanging over his head.

Finally he stepped back, offering his palms in a gesture of peace.

"I could have fled the castle on my own, I could have left you here to die come morning. But my half brother chose to involve you in this, he chose to burden your reputation with regicide. We have a common enemy now. So once I regroup and figure out a plan I thought you might want to join my revenge on him."

The slave looked at him for a long moment. Long enough that Jean began to wonder just how deeply the guards were sleeping and when his charms would wear off. He came to the conclusion that they maybe had a few more minutes at best but the slave would not agree to his proposition. There was one more thing he could try, though.

"Reiner, my half brother, was the one who gifted you to me."

He was met with an almost imperceptible nod then and the slave turned to offer up his neck and the padlock keeping the rusty chain in place.

Jean inserted and turned the key with one hand, catching the heavy chain with the other before it could fall to the ground with a deafening, echoing rattle.

"But I have two conditions, little fox", the slave said, his voice quiet and serious as he began to pace the narrow cell, rolling his shoulders as if he had been weighed down by more than just the chain around his neck.

It did not escape Jean that he had used that strange nickname again. Of course he knew it was alluding to the same animal that was depicted on his family's coat of arms. But nobody except for the slave had ever called him that. Maybe it was because of the traditions of the northern tribes that were closely depending on the animal gods they worshipped. Jean wondered if there was a tribe that worshipped foxes and if so what his slave's opinion of that tribe was. Whether they were allies or at war with each other.

The slave himself seemed to be from a tribe that worshipped wolves, at least if the stylized tattoo of a wolf head across his entire upper back was any indication. Jean had seen it more than once which was partly due to the savage's habit of wearing as few clothes as he could get away with, not used to the warmer climate of the area.

Swallowing at the memory Jean shook his head and pulled himself back into the present moment.

"What are your conditions?"

He really hoped these negotiations would be swift. If his calculations were correct they did not have much time left until the guards on the upper levels of the dungeon started stirring.

"You are going to stop calling me Noah. Your half brother gave me that name and I despise it. My real name is Eren and you are going to use it from now on."

That was a condition Jean could easily live with so he nodded, quietly counting the ticking seconds at the back of his head. While he did so he watched the slave, Eren, continuing to pace the cell, beginning to stretch his arms over his head and twisting his spine back into place, then stepping forward in deep lunges to warm up his legs.

Jean supposed it was not a bad idea to warm up before they tried to escape, even though it looked utterly ridiculous.

"Second", Eren continued, rolling his head from side to side, the bones cracking audibly, "I'm not leaving here with you."

For a moment Jean felt himself bristle, his eyebrows knitting together at being taken for a fool by a mere slave. But then the savage continued:

"You're leaving here with me."

With that Eren crouched down to place both hands onto the dusty ground, spreading his fingers wide. The next moment something about him started changing, shifting in the low light of the torches burning out in the corridor. His skin rippled and moved and then dark fur began to sprout on the backs of his hands and along his bare arms, racing down the back of his neck and covering his cheeks. His nose was shifting, his entire face growing longer, teeth sharper, eyes bigger. His hands and arms, his legs, his back and his feet, it all began to ripple and shift and knit together in new forms, clothes ripping as he went.

It was a spectacle Jean had only ever read about in ancient books and secret scrolls hidden deep within the castle's library. Books about the bloody, savage magic of the northern tribes. About sacrifices and curses and forbidden rituals invoked deep in the dense woods at their northern borders.

He hadn't believed most of the stories he'd found but least of all had he believed the descriptions of shifters, nature bound magicians who could take on the form of animals. Even with everything he knew about magic and its many breath taking uses that seemed to be on the wrong side of impossible for him to grasp.

At least until Eren's bones stopped cracking and the once stocky slave turned around inside the cell that could barely hold his body in its present from.

Because before Jean stood a massive wolf with thick fur as dark as the blackest hours of the night and eyes so bright and green there was no doubt who they belonged to.

Eren took a moment to stretch his changed limbs and shake his body before stepping closer towards Jean who took an instinctive step back until he collided with the bars of the cell. The wolf snorted a soft noise and pressed his cold snout against Jean's arm. His lips pulled back in something that would be a grin on a human face but only bared the wolf's gleaming fangs, each of them longer and sharper than any of Jean's fingers.

Around his neck, hidden deep in the thick fur, Jean could see the glint of the metal collar straining against his new form.

Without a word Eren shifted and crouched down until his fuzzy chest was almost brushing against the dusty floors. First the prince thought it to be a gesture of submission but of course that did not feel right. Instead he understood after a moment - Eren wanted him to climb onto his back.

You're leaving here with me.

For a moment Jean hesitated, eyes flicking along the massive, frightening shape of the wolf's body that could crush and maul him in dozens of different ways. But then he remembered the guards about to wake up from their involuntary nap. Remembered the gallows waiting for them both.

So he dug his fingers deeply into the thick fur and climbed onto his slave's back. It was different from making it onto the back of a horse but Eren was patient with him and waited until Jean was situated safely, curling trembling fingers around the metal collar. Then he began to move, first slowly trotting out of the cell, giving Jean the chance to get used to the movements of his body.

Then he leaped forward towards the stairs and up into the higher levels, towards where the thick walls of the castle would try to keep them contained. And beyond those: Freedom.

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If you liked this snippet please read the Iron Breakers books by Zaya Feli because it was inspired by them big time!

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