花樣年華

Your father hardly reacted at your tantrum, but your screams were enough to snap Levi’s attention back to you. Any signs of grief were wiped clean from his features as he stepped forward with a hard expression.

“As do I,” he said tightly. “Do not doubt that.”

Your wild eyes turned to him mercilessly. “Then why the delay?” you demanded, directing your anger onto him now. “Why are we doing nothing?”

But it was your father who answered you, forcing your attention back on him.

“Walking into enemy territory is no easy feat, darling. But most importantly, I will not risk your safety simply to prove a point. If you were to be captured—”

“I won’t!”

Ymir sighed as he rose from behind his desk and moved to his mini bar to prepare himself a drink, sidestepping his chessboard on the floor. “Your conviction alone does little to comfort me.”

You scoffed, unable to stand such humiliation any longer. “I have no desire to comfort you.” Your eyes snapped to Levi. “Or you. To hell with this. I don’t need you.” Walking cane in hand, you turned for the door. “I’m doing this, with or without you.”

But as if on cue, Levi moved to block your exit, forcing you to a halt. His eyes were still tinged with grief but they were fully focused. On you. Warning you against moving. It’s how you knew there was no chance in hell he was going to let you walk out that room in the state you were in by yourself.

All the same, it would be unlike you not to try. But before you could have the chance to threaten him, your father spoke behind you from his mini bar. “You’re right,” he conceded, which took you by surprise that you found yourself stealing a glimpse at him over your shoulder. “There is not much I can do or say to stop you.”

You waited for him to continue as he drank from his cup, the ice clinking in his glass, knowing he wasn’t finished and was trying to draw you in.

“So at least make use of the risk,” he went on seconds later, “and kill two birds with one stone.”

You locked eyes with Levi, hoping to catch some information about what your father was talking about, but his gaze revealed nothing. Slowly, you turned to face your father who stood watching you expectantly from across the room.

“Alright,” you drawled reluctantly, eyes narrowed. “I’ll bite.”

Your father gave you a winning smile. “I need intel from Pieck Finger. And Porco Galliard is the only one who knows where to locate her. Neither my men or Sasha and her little web of spies have managed to get much information on her. That woman is as clever and sly as a fox. There’s no way to find her unless she wants to be found.”

You paused. The leader of the Cart sector? “Pieck was involved in the attack?”

Ymir shrugged. “More or less. She is right hand to the man who ordered the Galliard brothers to strike. Her boss wants my downfall as much as Erwin Smith, if not more.”

Your grip on your walking cane tightened. “More than Erwin?” you asked, throwing Levi a dubious glance. “Who is it?”

“The crime lord of Marley himself,” your father replied casually. “Zeke Ksaver.”

Your frown deepened, thinking back to the night at Lord Reiss’ charity party when you first met him. Of how warmly he’d greeted your father, like an old family friend, and how uncomfortable he’d made Eren. “I thought he was your business partner, not your enemy.”

Ymir shrugged again. “It seems he can’t handle a little competition, so he’s set on eliminating the threat. Not that I can put it against him. I’m doing the same thing. But with her intel on him, we can bring him down. She has the proof we need to finish him off.”

Something about what Ymir said disturbed you.

Not that I can put it against him. I’m doing the same thing.

Your stomach plummeted as realization dawned on you.

Your father prided himself in outsmarting his enemies. By understanding how their minds worked, he was able to predict how they were going to react which meant…

“You… knew he was going to attack,” you said quietly. A statement, not a question.

Ymir heard the accusation in your tone, the rage. “I had my suspicions,” he admitted regrettably. “But I never deemed him foolish enough to act on it.”

You broke out in a sharp, mocking laugh. “I can’t believe it! So that’s what this is. You’re not doing me a service. I’m cleaning up your mess!” You pointed a finger at him. “You underestimated your enemies.” You waved a hand between you and Levi. “And we paid the consequences.”

“What happened at the pub was a tragedy,” Ymir stated, “but it was inevitable. My enemies believe you’re as much involved in this business as I am. You cross over to Marley and you’ll only be solidifying that.”

“Then so be it! Their attack against me, my town, my people, was an invitation for me to come out and play, right? Well this is me making my move.” Your voice dropped a few degrees. “And I intend to wipe the board clean.”

You turned to leave, determined to have the last word. But stormy grey eyes stared back at you. Levi was blocking your exit yet again.

“Get out of my way,” you said briskly.

“No,” Levi said, voice thick with emotion. He stepped closer and you braced yourself for a wave of intimidation, but you were taken aback when his features softened instead.

“Please,” he added so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him had he not been standing right in front of you. He raised a hand to caress your cheek lovingly. “You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone.”

You slapped his hand away before you could lean into his touch. “Yes, I do!”

Levi’s gaze had been pleading and full of concern for you that you might have easily caved had you and him been alone. Your fiancé knew how much you longed for his affection; he knew how vulnerable it made you. But you couldn’t let him use it against you. So you looked away and turned to your father instead, moving out of Levi’s reach.

“Father, it's the only way,” you insisted. “After this, none of them will dare lay a hand on me ever again. And not because you command it.” You turned to Levi. “Or because you enforce it. But because they know what I will personally do to them if they so much as try. I want them all to be afraid of touching me.” Your voice turned dark, eyes murderous with intent, as you shoved against Levi’s shoulder to reach for the door. “And they will.”

Even if I have to forsake whatever scraps of humanity I have left to do it.

That encounter with your father was over a week ago, but the wait is now over.

Tonight — tonight you will finally set things right.

You stand in your room, alone, fully armed, and with a shot of whiskey in your hand. You swallow it down in one go and pour yourself another shot. The liquid burns down your throat and almost instantly you feel the alcohol still your nerves, allowing your mind to rid yourself of all unnecessary emotions. Fear, doubt, compassion—feelings that might have once made you second guess yourself — are silenced. By the time you’re out the door, your eyes have hardened, and you’ve steeled your heart against the horrors of the coming night. So certain you are that your actions tonight are justifiable, and necessary.

Outside, a distant rumble echoes through the city—a storm gathering strength as dark clouds swallow the last remnants of twilight.

You’re making your way down the wooden stairs, the sound of your black walking cane muffled by the royal-red runner rug, when you hear a crash on the first floor. Your leg has healed nicely so you hardly wince as you rush the last set of stairs to veer in the direction of the commotion coming from Jean and Connie’s room.

“Has she lost her mind?” you overhear Jean exclaim hysterically from outside the hallway. “She can’t! Why are you letting her do this?”

As you walk into the room the faint scent of antiseptic hangs heavy in the air, mixed with the faint smoke of cigarettes. Across the room Mikasa holds Jean upright and forces him back to bed. His middle is wrapped with a fresh bandage but there’s faint traces of blood starting to stain his left side from the area he was stabbed—most likely from the abrupt movement he took seconds before as you notice his cup of glass lies broken on the floor near Mikasa’s feet.

Connie sits upright on the bed beside Jean, one arm in a sling, eyes full of fatigue but still alert while Sasha and Historia stand at the foot of his bedside. The girls have taken turns caring for the boys, monitoring their recovery and making sure they’re healing the way they should. Though you’ve noticed Mikasa in particular hasn’t left Jean’s side once.

When you realize there is no visible threat nearby—just Jean being overdramatic as always— the tension in your shoulders eases and your posture takes on a more relaxed stance. Mikasa and Sasha spare you the need to make yourself known. They turn to you as they sense your presence at the door. Jean and Connie follow their gaze and Jean’s eyes turn ablaze once more as they land on you.

“She’s lying, right?” he questions you aggressively, pointing to Sasha who must have been the one to announce to them you were leaving. He tries to make his way towards you, but Mikasa gently yet firmly pushes him back to bed. “Tell me she’s lying. You’re not actually going to take part in this, are you?”

“It was my idea,” you answer flatly.

“That’s suicide!”

But his sudden exclamation has him bending to the side in pain.

“Jean, you need to calm down,” Mikasa urges him softly. “Your wounds are still healing.”

Jean shakes his head, eyes closed as he stifles down the pain before glaring up at you. “You can’t just waltz into enemy territory and expect to come out of it alive,” he argues in between his teeth. “Especially in the condition you’re in.”

You frown, the sound of rain pattering against the window mildly distracting you. The rain is starting to pick up.

“I’m more than fine,” you snap. “Worry about yourselves.”

You turn to leave, knowing that the rain was going to cause delays for you, but not before giving both Jean and Connie a meaningful look. “You both belong at my side, so rest and get better quickly. Pieke wants to start a war, and I will need you all at your best to help me finish it.”

“Then wait for us,” Connie’s raspy voices cuts in, making you pause at the door’s threshold. “Don’t start anything without us. Please. We can’t protect you from here.”

Historia finds the courage to step forward as well. “Why can’t Levi just take his people and go? They’re more than capable in handling this on their own. You don’t need to go with him.”

Your eyes cut to her sharper than any blade. “Yes, I do. It has to be me.”

“And what will you do if Eren betrays you?” Sasha asks with a deep scowl, arms crossed over her chest defiantly.

You poke the inside of your cheek with great annoyance. For days you had found it odd Sasha hadn’t brought him up before, to you or anyone else, knowing how strongly she felt about Eren after her recent findings about him. But now you realize she was just waiting for the perfect moment to do so. And based on your cadre’s reaction, she’s succeeded quite well.

“Eren is going with you?” Jean asks, outrage peaking. “Why? No one trusts him!”

You slide your deadpan gaze over to Jean and offer him a tight smile. “Well, that's rather unfortunate, isn’t it? Seeing as how my father has rewarded him for saving my life. Yet again.” Your cadre are too stunned to react as you pull up your sleeve and show them your tattoo of the centipede on your wrist. “Eren Yeager now wears the family mark on his arm; like it or not, he’s officially one of us now.”

“Is that why you’re protecting him? Because of your father?” Sasha questions you skeptically. “Or has he perhaps finally won you over?”

Hearing the bitterness in Sasha’s voice, you drag your eyes over to her, recalling the night she came to you shortly after you’d woken up to report what she had learned from her spies about the attack on the Red Rose and the possibility of a two-faced rat living amongst you.

You give her a wolfish grin, knowing full well who she suspects. “You think my judgement has been compromised?”

Sasha glowers at you. “I don’t know what to think. I gave you a reason to stop his initiation from happening, so he could never be one of us. But you did nothing. You let it happen.”

“What are you both on about?” Jean asks, unable to follow along with your conversation.

“Tell them,” Sasha insists, gesturing to the rest of the people in the room. “Tell them what I told you about him.”

Historia steps closer, eyeing you and Sasha nervously. Her overprotectiveness towards Eren slipping out. “Tell us what?”

They all look to you expectantly, completely riled up—as Sasha knew they would be since this is how they usually get when Eren is involved.

You roll your eyes before sighing, exasperated. “Sasha is under the impression that there is a traitor amongst us.”

Your cadre immediately tense, deeply unsettled by the news.

“Not just anyone,” Sasha adds hastily. “Eren,” she declares firmly, confidently. “Eren Yeager is a spy for Marley.”

Days after the attack, Sasha had gone to you to inform you of what she’d learned. Out of the handful of spies she had stationed across Marley, one of them, a young woman—Kaya— had overheard that not only were Porco and Galliard’s gang planning an attack, but that they had received confirmation by someone close to you of your whereabouts, giving them an exact time and location to target you. But Kaya had been caught. By the time she managed to escape, her warning had arrived too late.

“You have no proof,” you calmly remind her.

Sasha bristles. “I know what I saw.”

“Well, what did you see?” Jean demands impatiently. “What did he do?”

Sasha raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say, Will you do the honors, or should I? You raise an open hand for her to continue and tell them all herself. She’s clearly just dying to do so.

But Sasha expresses no gratitude or glee, maintaining a rather grave expression as she turns to face your cadre. “On the day of the attack, after we came back from the cemetery and you all headed towards the Red Rose, I followed Eren into a different pub on the other side of town. He said he was going to meet Isabel and Furlan there.”

Sasha pauses, waiting for them to absorb the information.

“And let me guess?” you say dryly, cutting to the chase. “They weren’t there?”

A muscle in Sasha’s jaw twitches. “No,” she answers through her teeth. “They weren’t. He was there to meet with someone else. I didn’t get a good look at the guy that showed up, but whoever it was left him a message.”

“And what did this message say?” you ask pointedly.

Sasha glares at you, realizing you’re trying to discredit her accusations, before reluctantly admitting, “I don’t know. Eren burned it all up before I could get the chance to read it.”

You hum regrettably. “Pity.”

“I didn’t have to read it to know it had been a warning!” she snaps, bristling at your dismissive tone. “Telling him to stay away from the Red Rose because it was going to get bombed.”

You nod thoughtfully, ignoring the anger radiating from her. “And how are you so certain this guy came to see Eren in the first place? You told me they didn’t speak or even interact with each other.”

“The guy left the note inside a newspaper on a bench in passing. I saw Eren pick it up right after.”

You nod skeptically. “Right. Well, if that’s all you’ve got…”

You start to turn away.

“Why else would he destroy it after reading it?” Sasha continues to argue. “It was evidence of what they were planning! Of his role in all this.”

You pause, glancing at her over your shoulder. “Evidence that you don’t have.”

“Why do you keep defending him?!” Sasha exclaims resentfully, taking a dangerous step towards you that makes Mikasa nervous enough to move between you. “Kaya is dead because of him!”

You whirl on her.

“No,” you correct sharply, shoving Mikasa aside. “Your little spy is dead because she was not as skilled at her job as you thought she was. She got herself captured and tortured by the enemy. Who knows what information she gave up before she escaped—if that’s what even happened.”

Sasha stares back at you with wide eyes, utterly appalled by your words. “Kaya came back to me bloody, broken, and barely conscious. Her last words to me? ‘Anya is in danger.’ She kept repeating it over and over again. You think she would have wasted her last breath to warn us—warn you—before betraying us to them?”

You hold back on replying and study your wraith for a moment longer as she scowls back at you. Her indignation is the only power source giving her the courage to talk back to you so boldly. If you keep provoking her, you might end up saying something out of line not even she will be willing to forgive.

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” you say as thunder rumbles outside the window, its ominous presence drawing nearer.

You turn to the door with finality, needing to put an end to this conversation. But Sasha is not finished. Before your cadre can react, Sasha takes advantage of the thunder to mask her footsteps and strike, but it's her breathing that gives her away.

By the time she’s grabbed hold of your elbow, forcing you to turn to her, you’ve pulled out a dagger and angled it at her neck.

Everyone in the room collectively holds their breath, the tension in the room overwhelming. But much to her credit, Sasha holds her ground and meets your gaze dead on despite the sharp blade against her neck.

“Careful, now,” you warn her softly. “You’ve lost a comrade, and for that you have my sympathy. But don’t push it.”

“This isn’t just about Kaya!” she growls back, glaring at you. “If you don’t put an end to him I. will.” She enunciates her last words. “He can’t. Be. Trusted.”

Your features soften slightly.

You know she never had any intention of hurting you. She only wishes for you to listen and see reason. But you also know she’s not going to let Eren off the hook anytime soon unless she has solid proof that proves he’s innocent. And to be honest, at this point in time you really don’t have a solid argument that can hold against her accusations.

After Sasha revealed to you what Kaya had learned in Marley, you couldn’t help but think back on Eren’s behavior when he met Zeke Ksaver at Lord Reiss’ charity event, of how on edge Eren had been at the sudden sight of him. Had there been any hint of recognition between them during their interaction that you had missed? Not to mention how strange he had behaved when you both came back from seeing Casamere that one night…

That nagging feeling that he is hiding something, a dangerous secret, has never left you. Were it anyone else, you would have trusted your cadre’s judgement and done away with him long before he had the chance to get this close.

But his fate is not up to you to decide anymore.

Nor Sasha’s.

You let out a heavy sigh and begin to withdraw your weapon. “Whether Eren can be trusted or not matters little to my father. If Eren does have ulterior motives… then we must, for the time being, let them… unfold.”

Sasha looks ready to explode. “What?! And do nothing?”

But before things can turn murderous, Mikasa lunges forward and puts herself in front of Sasha, pushing her away from you.

“Sasha!” Mikasa chides, hands at her shoulders. “That’s enough!”

Sasha resists her hold. “You’re just going to let him take us down one by one—” She points to Jean and Connie wounded in bed behind her— “until there’s none of us left?”

The slight hitch in her voice makes your eyes narrow, and you tilt your head with slight confusion. “Is that what this is? You’re afraid? Of him?”

Sasha has never been one to fear death or dying. Let alone one man—none of your cadre do. But a swift glance around the room and you realize, they’re all giving off the same energy.

“He’s dangerous,” Sasha says, “but not in the way you and I are dangerous.”

Your eyes narrow. “Then in what way?”

You can visibly see the moment the anger leaves her body as her shoulders drop, surprising you. There is still bitterness in her fiery eyes but there is also a wave of defeat that’s hitting her hard.

“You’re letting him in,” she says gloomily. “You don’t let strangers in the way you’ve done with him. Let alone let them talk to you the way he does with you.”

You’re taken aback for a second, expecting to hear something more intense, before chuckling softly with an air of nonchalance, fully aware of your people’s eyes on you. You turn for the door.

“Father always did say keep your friends close—” You glance at her over your shoulder as you go. “—And your enemies closer. That’s all this is.”

Your cadre exchange glances, none of them convinced. But the wind has picked up outside, rattling the windows and sending rain pounding against the roof like drums of war. There’s no time to convince them further. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

You salute Jean and Connie a hasty farewell and walk out. You don’t wait for Mikasa and Sasha—the only members of your cadre you’re taking tonight— to follow after you as you step out into the hallway leading to the foyer. Those two will follow despite them not supporting your decisions tonight.

Historia follows close behind you into the hallway. “You shouldn’t be traveling in this weather,” she advises desperately. “It’s only going to get worse throughout the night.”

You scoff dismissively. “A little rain never hurt anyone,” you say, opening the front door as you hear Mikasa and Sasha grab their coats behind you.

But as soon as you say that a flash of blinding white light tears through the dark sky — a jagged spear of lightning that seems to split the clouds apart. For a split second, the world is bathed in a harsh, electric glow, followed almost instantly by a deafening crack of thunder that shakes the ground. The sound rolls and echoes, deep and violent, making you all freeze in place as windows rattle. A surge ripples through the power lines — and then, silence. The hum of electricity dies, the lights in your home flicker once, twice, and then the whole town plunges into darkness.

“No, but a little lightning might,” Sasha mutters under her breath before snatching the car keys from the table by the front door and walking out into the storm to start the car. Mikasa follows right after, no hesitation in her strides either.

You linger at the door to face Historia, knowing that the power outage has only brought her even more distress.

“We’ll be back in three days' time,” you say to her with as much reassurance as you can muster to ease her worry. “Light some candles.” You jut your chin over her shoulder, to where Jean and Connie lie in their room. “I leave those two in your care.”

You turn to leave but Historia grabs hold of your hand, keeping you at her side for a moment longer. “Anya—” She struggles finding the right words to say before settling on two.

“Don’t. Die.”

Her tone is firm, but her eyes are lined with unshed tears as she looks up at you the way you imagine a sister looks at her sibling going off to war and begging them to return home safely.

You smile ruefully before gently taking her hand and easing out of her hold. “I never do.”

As you finally step out into the storm and make your way to your vehicle where Sasha and Mikasa wait for you inside, the rain has intensified, hissing as it strikes rooftops and asphalt. The faint smell of ozone lingers in the air — sharp, metallic, and charged — a reminder of the immense power that just tore through the atmosphere.

It almost feels poetic, this chaos. As if the storm itself were greatly aware you plan to do the same once you reach Marley; every drop of fury, every ounce of destructive power you carry within you, you will unleash upon your enemies like lightning.

You will make yourself a reckoning.

The drive down to the docks feels like driving inside a tunnel of water, every street is swallowed by sheets of rain. The windshield wipers drag back and forth as lightning cracks across the sky, white veins splitting the dark clouds, and for the briefest flash the entire street lights up—slick pavement, trees bent low under the wind, flooded gutters, the outlines of swaying power lines. Then it’s gone again, swallowed by night.

Sasha sits in the driver’s seat with Mikasa in the passenger’s seat and you seated behind Sasha. They look tense, the severity of the storm is too wild and unpredictable for their liking. Much like you. But the thunder masks the hum of your vehicle’s engine perfectly, making it near impossible for any Marleyan spy stationed across town to track down your whereabouts and warn their people of your plans.

As you get closer to the docks, the smell of salt and diesel cuts through the rain, mixing with the sharp tang of ozone from the lightning strikes. The storm is louder here, the open expanse of the waterfront giving the thunder room to roll endlessly, echoing between warehouses and cranes. Forks of lightning claw at the horizon, throwing the skeletons of ships and stacked containers into stark relief. It’s a perfect place for business. A perfect place for blood. But once Sasha brings the car to a stop near the edge of the pier and kills the headlights, you step out into the storm and stride forward without bothering to look over your shoulder for any potential enemies lurking in the dark.

You have nothing to fear here. These are your father’s shipping ports. And only his men are allowed entry into these parts of the pier. How your father managed to strike a deal with the king of Paradis himself is still unknown, even to you, but through his deal with the royal crown, Ymir was granted a prestigious Empire Export License that gave his company unrestricted access to trade routes and prevented his shipments from being searched. It's no wonder his importing and exporting of goods is one of his most profitable sources of income. ****By setting up a legitimate transportation business, Ymir found a way for the docks to serve as the final hub in a complex scheme that disguised illicit profits as legitimate business.

And what a beautiful scheme it is, you think as lightning cracks again, briefly illuminating a large, navy-blue merchant vessel docked at the pier. It has the words “Y & Co.” branded on the side of the ship, one of your father’s main merchant ships — and the one he has specifically routed to transport you and your crew into Marley undetected.

It’s really here, you think as you stare at the ship with a mixture of awe and mild surprise. Just like he said it would be.

Waiting for you.

But then your mood darkens as you notice the two figures standing under the floodlight by the front of the ship. The bulb buzzes and flickers in the rain, casting them in broken flashes, but you don’t need to see their features to know it’s Levi and the captain of the ship, Kenneth Brown, fully prepared with some half-assed excuse to not let you board, or better yet — let the ship leave harbor.

You catch movement above the cargo deck that momentarily diverts your attention. On the railing of the ship’s deck stands Eren. You recognize his tall and lean frame even from this distance. He watches over you with anticipation no doubt. Hoping that Levi will manage to change your mind and make you realize this whole mission is complete suicide. But the fact Eren is already aboard the ship means the rest of Levi’s men must be as well. Making this conversation you’re about to have with Levi ultimately pointless.

Still, you know he owes it to his crew to at least try and make you see reason one last time before they all risk their lives traversing into enemy territory.

Your fiancée steps forward to greet you first, his subtle attempt to keep the captain a safe distance away from you. He watches you with that deadpan expression he always wears before his eyes flicker behind you to where Mikasa and Sasha now stand, flanking your sides. Like you, Levi and the captain wear dark trench coats and newsboy caps to shield them from getting completely soaked, but the material’s not waterproof. You would know. You can already feel your clothes underneath clinging to your frame. But Levi and the captain appear stoic and unfazed. They look as comfortable standing there as if they were standing outside on a warm, sunny day.

“Is there a reason why the captain isn’t at the bridge of this ship,” you demand irritably, rain pouring down your collar, “or does he just enjoy having us stand around in the rain like wet dogs?”

“The captain’s spooked,” Levi says flatly. “He says he won’t take her out in this weather. Not tonight.” His voice comes low, steady, carrying even through the hiss of waves crashing against the pier behind him and the growl of thunder.

Your jaw tightens, your eyes locking with the captain over Levi’s shoulder as the thunder cracks overhead, rattling through the steel hulls stacked around you. “That ship sails.” You slide your hard gaze back to Levi. “Storm or no storm.”

The captain steps forward without breaking eye contact from you, resting a hand on Levi’s shoulder to signal him to step aside. “I strongly urge you to reconsider,” he says to you in an equally respectful but quietly powerful tone—a diplomatic approach that usually works well when dealing with others, but unfortunately for him, not with you.

Your eyes narrow. “If you won't do it, then you forfeit your title as captain of my father's ships, and I will find someone else better and less of a coward to take your place.”

The captain is close enough now for you to make out his salt-streaked beard and dark blue gaze. He gives a slow shake of his head, water spilling from the brim of his hat. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen hulls split in less than this. Men swept overboard. Running contraband’s one thing but running it through the mouth of hell’s another.”

Lightning lights the dockyard white, catching the unease in his eyes just for a second before the dark closed back in. You stepped closer, your voice lowering. “We’re not paying you to give sermons about the weather. Get behind the wheel and point that ship east. Otherwise, it’s not the storm you will need to be worrying about, but me.”

The captain holds your menacing gaze a moment longer, weighing in on your threat, before ultimately seceding. “I will ready the ship. But I cannot guarantee your safety or anyone else aboard once we cast off.”

You smirk. “Perhaps you cannot, captain, but I can.”

Thunder crashes again, loud enough to shake the steel containers.

“You see, I made a deal with Death long ago,” you continue darkly. “She will not take me with her until I have taken up my revenge against all those who have wronged me. And vengeance waits for me on the other side of these waters. So, fear not, Captain. Death will grant us safe passage across. You have my word.”

Whether the captain believes your words or not matters little. There was enough confidence in your voice for him to nod, turn around, and take his leave to board the ship.

You start to follow but Levi remains planted in place, fixing you with a cold, hard stare that you can’t ignore.

“You understand there is no turning back after this?” Levi says to you as you try to walk past him.

You offer him a tight lip smile. “Death has sent me on a mission, Levi,” you say in way of reply, “and she’s calling my name. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

Levi works his jaw as you walk past him, his muscles tense, but he doesn’t move to stop you. Which means your father has ordered him not to intervene. You can’t imagine the torture your fiancé must be in to have to watch you walk straight into danger—to have to knowingly let you— but to realize that you have your fathers support is more than refreshing. He needs you to succeed as much as you do.

And you have no intention of letting him down.

Eventually Levi makes his way onboard and the captain hoists anchor. Everyone seeks shelter below deck, but you remain above deck for a moment longer, your eyes set on the dark horizon ahead. Somewhere behind the violent waves and vicious storm is your landing destination: Marley.

After coming down from the cemetery, your cadre had been too caught up with their emotions to be alert of their surroundings, which is why none of you picked up on the fact that somewhere along the way you were all being watched. Your enemies took advantage of this, and when they found the perfect moment to strike, they did not hesitate to make their move.

Your vision is blurry and your eyes sting from the smoke as you search for your cadre now. But no matter where you turn, all you see and feel are the uncontrollable flames roaring and crackling around you, threatening to devour you the way it does the Red Rose. The pub named in your mother’s honor.

“Anya!”

Your head turns in attention. Someone is calling your name against the raging flames. Assuming their voice is near an exit, you use it to guide you out of the pub, wincing every now and then from the applied pressure to the open wound on your leg.

You try to maneuver your way from the growing flames as fast as you can, but by the time you reach the section of the pub near the bar, you’ve inhaled too much smoke. Your breath is too ragged, and you too weak and too tired to carry on. You collapse on the wooden floor in defeat.

But that’s when you notice him. The short blond-haired man with the thin mustache and warm, kind-hearted eyes.

Hannes.

He lies completely still near the edge of the bar by your feet.

You try to call to him but all you can muster is a violent cough. You inch towards him with whatever strength you have left. But by then, you already know he’s gone. The hand grenade that crashed through the window landed dangerously close by and based on the severe injuries to his body, he died on impact.

The guilt that strikes you across the chest is sharp and deep as you stare at his unmoving body before you. Hannes had always looked out for you growing up. And a great part of that you think was because you reminded him so much of your mother.

He always liked telling you that.

“Anya!”

Strong hands pull you to your feet then, and though you’re barely conscience, you can still recognize Mikasa’s hold on you as she throws one of your arms over her shoulder and half-walks half-drags you out of the burning pub.

As soon as you’re out of the Red Rose the fresh air that hits your face and lungs tastes like heaven to you. But the sound of gunshots is heard dangerously close. Mikasa hands you over to someone else while you slowly come to your senses. Someone far more petite and with fine blonde hair. Historia.

“She’s injured!” Mikasa tells her, loading her gun. “Get her out of here! I’ll cover for you.”

Historia attempts to guide you away but you push her away.

“No!”

Startled by your sudden outburst, Historia loses her hold on you, but without anyone to support you, you fall to the ground. This is fine though. You need a moment to gather your bearings. Your strength. So you stall.

“Who is it?” you demand roughly.

Mikasa kneels beside you, her voice desperate, pleading. “Anya, we’re outnumbered. And without ammo. Levi and his men will be here any minute with backup. We just have to hold them off till then. Leave this to us. You need to get away from here. It’s you they want.”

You lift your heavy gaze and lock eyes with Mikasa. “Who. The. fuck. Is. It?” you growl icily through your teeth.

Mikasa holds your gaze longer than most would dare. If only because she knows the moment she gives in and tells you what you want to know, you’re taking over. There’s not much she can do to change your mind and she knows this which is why she ultimately lowers her gaze with a sigh.

“Rebels and allies of the Colossus sector,” she admits reluctantly. “Just like Armin said.”

“Names, Mikasa. I want names.”

“Colt Grice. Porco Galliard. And…Marcel Galliard.”

You smirk weakly. “Marcel? Leader of the Jaw Sector himself. What an honor.”

You move to stand but Mikasa takes your arm to hold you in place. “We’ll take them all down for you, Anya. I swear it. But we can’t do this alone. Connie is severely wounded. Sasha isn’t here. Historia and I are down to our last bullets. Jean is barely holding down the frontlines with a handful of your father’s men. Please. Just until Levi and his people arrive.”

Mikasa’s dark hair is plastered to her face with sweat and some parts of her clothes are burnt, and her skin, red with burn marks.

You’re at a disadvantage. You know that. Mikasa doesn’t need to lay it out for you. But behind her the Red Rose is being engulfed in flames. And you think of Hannes, of the way his flesh is melting and burning to the bone as you speak.

“You look just like your mother,” Hannes would say to you whenever he was drunk enough to reminisce on the past, an endearing smile on his face. “But that rage,” he would then add with great sorrow, his smile fading. “Your mother never wore that anger.”

Your hands curl into fists now against the piles of ash gathering on the ground.

You were right, Hannes. This rage is the one thing I get from my father. And… the one thing moving me forward.

“I don’t need reinforcements,” you tell Mikasa quietly, subtly tilting your head to the side to scan the area in search of your next targets. “I’ll kill them myself.”

Without warning you reach out and swipe Mikasa’s gun from the holster under her arm and run straight into the cross fire.

Historia screams. “Anya, don’t!”

Mikasa rushes to stop you but bullets are shot in her direction from a building to the right that force her to draw back and take cover.

You manage to avoid getting hit long enough to dive into an abandoned winery shop nearby. The overturned chairs and broken wine bottles inside the shop tell you the customers and business owner fled the scene the second the explosions at the Red Rose went off and the sound of gunshots were fired.

The rest of the shops on this side of town are just as dark and deserted. And you hate the sight of it. Your father had promised this town his protection from turf wars against other rival gangs. And he had. Whatever businesses he had pertaining to other crime bosses, he always made sure it stayed far out of town.

Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned—much like tonight’s turn of events—but the townsfolk at least know the drill: stay vigilant and don’t get caught outside your homes. Close the doors and lock the windows. And no matter what happens, stay inside.

Keeping an eye out for Colt and the Galliard brothers, you swiftly check the magazine on Mikasa’s pistol before popping it back in. The cartridge is already half empty. Guess you’ll have to be a bit more selective over who dies by your hand tonight.

A bullet hits glass across the street, catching your attention. You turn just in time to see Colt Grice dodge the bullet aimed for his head and disappear into an alley.

Seconds later another figure lurks from the shadows and chases after him.

Jean.

Ignoring the pain on your leg as you apply pressure on it to stand, you break into a run and chase after them. When you finally catch sight of them again they’re exchanging blows at the end of the alleyway. Weapons no where to be seen.

When Jean lands a punch seconds later that sends Colt to the ground, you slow down, thinking he’s got him. But then, almost as if it were happening in slow motion, you watch as Colt subtly reaches for something on the ground beside him. Jean, oblivious to this, grabs him and yanks him to his feet to finish him off but the second Colt has Jean in front of him, he takes the weapon in his hand and rams it deep into Jean’s side.

Jean’s body goes rigid with shock as Colt then rudely takes the knife out of Jean’s side and kicks him to the ground.

Colt then moves for a killing strike but you beat him to it and release a single bullet that hits him on the chest. It’s not enough to kill him. Just enough to get his attention. To make him see you. To let him know he’s about to die. And that you’re the reason why.

The next two bullets you release in his direction aim true and are the ones responsible for stopping his heart. His body lands on the ground with a heavy thud soon after.

You then sprint over to Jean bleeding out on the floor in front of you.

“Jean?”

His face is twisted in pain as he cradles his side, trying to stop the bleeding. But at the sight of you, relief washes over his face. “Anya? You’re alive.”

You assess his wound and conclude it’s not too deep. He’ll live for another day. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ll take it from here.”

Concern immediately takes over his expression as you leave his side to gather Jean’s and Colt’s guns that were discarded on the ground during their fight. But they were discarded for a reason. They’re all out of ammo.

Fucking hell.

If you get out of this alive, the first thing you’re going to do is stow away weapons all across town as backup for instances such as this.

“No—” comes Jean’s labored protests. “Wait.” His eyes suddenly widen at something over your shoulder. “Anya!”

The warning in his tone is enough for you to turn on your heels and fire in the direction of whoever has come up behind you. Your attacker manages to dodge your shots by taking cover behind a nearby dumpster but your stray bullets have given you time to move away. And by drawing the attention to yourself and putting distance between you and Jean, you’ve kept Jean safely out of harm’s way.

For now, at least.

Against the dim lit alley you can’t identify who the attacker is, though you have a hunch. All the same, you’re in a bad spot. The alleyway leads to a dead end and you can’t climb up through the fire escapes because your leg is too fucked up for that…

You know these streets well, though. You could run circles with him if you wanted to… but you don’t have the energy or the bullets to spare. Your only chance of getting out of this alive is to lure him out and confront him head on.

Keeping to the shadows of the night, you lurk in waiting, letting the lamp post flickering in the middle of the alley serve as battleground between you and your pursuer since neither one of you can strike without revealing yourself to the other first.

“Terribly sorry about your friend!” you call out to him from the dark. “But he did stab one of my own.”

Heedful steps sound against the cobblestone pavement, moving closer to the light. “You and your father have done far worse than that,” a deep voice growls back. A voice you recognize. It belongs to the leader of the Jaw Sector from Marley, Marcel Galliard. A close ally to Bertholdt and the Armored Sector.

Marcel walks under the light moments later, revealing his well built figure. His short, dark hair is swept back and he’s got a dark coat on that hides more weapons than the loaded gun he has out in front of him. There’s nothing memorable about his face other than the fact he’s got an upturned nose and seething grey eyes that peer into the darkness in search of you.

“Only to those who deserve it,” you respond coolly, moving from the shadows with calculated stealth until you have him within range. “And you did blow up my pub.”

You pull the trigger.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four. You don’t stop until you run your cartridge dry. But the bastard’s got to be wearing a bullet proof vest on or something because all the real damage you inflict on him is from a bullet that hits his right hand, forcing him to drop his gun and cry out in pain as blood begins to pool to the ground from the wound on his hand.

Damn it!

You really should have aimed for the head.

Unsheathing a blade from your wrist, you get ready to strike. If his middle is padded up, you’ll need to go for the neck. But Marcel is a lot closer than you realize and he lunges for you, successfully blocking your hand mid-swing as you try to jab your knife into him. Using size and weight to his advantage, he tackles you to the ground until he has you pinned under him, easily knocking the blade out of your hand.

His face is twisted in a cruel snarl as he glares down at you. He raises a fist to strike. But adrenaline has your body reacting faster than your brain and you take advantage of his momentum to thrust your hips forward, pushing him over you and throwing him off balance. Once you slide under him, you scramble back to your feet, swiping the gun he dropped earlier in the process. You turn to fire at him but Marcel appears close behind you that you have no time to react.

He punches you so hard against the jaw you’re knocked straight to the ground. You think you actually pass out for a second.

As you come to, you sense him approaching. Slowly. Dangerously. Like a wolf sizing up its prey. And you groan. Because right now, you are.

Your survival instincts, however, are still kicking.

You have to move, Anya. Nobody is coming to save you. Get up!

But you’re alone, injured, lacking weapons, lacking stamina. You can’t survive this fight. You won’t. And Marcel knows this. It’s why he doesn’t bother with drawing out any more weapons. He’s dragging this on, wanting to toy with you first.

“You know,” Marcel taunts, that hateful look in his eyes unwavering. “I had planned on keeping you alive. To use as leverage against your father. But I think your death will send a stronger message. Don’t you think?” He picks up the blade he’d knocked from your hand earlier as he approaches and twirls it with his left hand. “After all, there is no reasoning with a monster is there?”

You manage a faint laugh, blood trickling from your mouth as he looms over you. “You’re right. He’ll just murder you and feed you to the dogs.”

Marcel laughs dryly. “Not if I kill him first.”

Your twist away from him in disgust and attempt to crawl away, eyeing the gun he dropped a few feet away. “Good luck with that.”

Marcel reaches down and roughly drags you back by your injured leg before you can get far, making you scream out in agony.

“I don’t need luck,” he says confidently, turning you over to face him. “I have you.”

Without waiting for you to recover, he kneels forward and aims the knife in his hand at your chest.

On instinct, you raise your hands to block him, pushing against his wrists with all the strength you have left while he presses further down. But the smug look on his face tells you he’s hardly breaking a sweat. He’s enjoying watching you suffer.

And then, just as you feel the tip of the knife break skin, a shot is fired.

Marcel’s body goes limp against you. When he starts falling towards you, you hastily shove him to the side in panic. He collapses on the ground beside you, dead. A bullet straight to the head.

You stare at Marcel’s corpse with equal parts shock and disbelief. When you turn around in search of where the gunshot came from, you’re even more surprised to find neither Levi or your cadre there, but Eren.

He stands behind you at the alley’s entrance holding a gun out in front of him, looking just as shocked as you are by what he’s just done. But once his eyes find yours, he snaps out of his shock and rushes over to you.

“Anya!” He’s not prepared by the state you’re in though and he curses under his breath as he comes to kneel beside you, getting a closer look at you. His eyes run down your face and body, unable to mask his pained expression at the sight of all the blood and injuries he finds on you. He then sucks in air through his teeth as his eyes wander further down. “Your leg.”

He hastily rips a piece of his shirt and starts wrapping the cloth around your injured leg, trying to stop the bleeding. But you note his hands are shaking, making it difficult for him to complete this one task. He’s clearly still coping with the fact he just killed someone. For you. And not just anyone. A crime boss of all people.

As he struggles to bandage your wound, you catch movement from your peripherals. A tall, dark figure stands at the mouth of the alley. You swiftly reach for the gun that Eren had shot Marcel with and point it in their direction, startling Eren. It’s not until he follows your gaze and spots the approaching figure that he understands what’s happening.

But whoever it is coming towards you carries his gun at his side. They’re not attacking, and for a brief moment you hesitate pulling the trigger. You wait a bit longer until the flickering lamp post illuminates his features and you realize its Porco Galliard, Marcel’s brother.

Porco’s voice sounds small in the darkness as he calls to his older brother, making out his figure under the flickering lamp post.

“Marcel?”

But the moment he gets close enough to Marcel’s unmoving body, whatever hope he carried of finding his brother alive extinguishes like a flame.

He’s close enough for you to see the grief settle in against his features first. Only for it to get overrun with rage as his eyes flicker over to you and Eren. But before he can dare raise his gun at you, gunshots are fired in his direction from the building’s second floor on your left, forcing Porco to draw back and rush out of the alleyway.

You manage to catch Levi, Furlan, and Isabel climbing down the building’s fire escapes before your strength finally gives out. Eren catches you before your head can hit the ground and cradles you in his arms, but your eyes feel heavy. You struggle to keep them open. You faintly hear Furlan and Isabel swiftly run past you and Eren, hot on Porco’s trail before disappearing out of the alley.

You sense Levi’s presence seconds later.

“Fuck!” You feel Levi’s leather gloved hand hold your face, assessing your wounds. “She’s lost a lot of blood. Get her out of here,” he orders Eren. “Now! I’m going to kill that bastard.” Levi stands to leave. “Go! There’s a car waiting on the other side of the building. Get her home!”

You try to reach out for Levi, wanting him to stay with you instead, but all you feel is air. He’s already gone.

“It’s okay,” Eren assures you as he lifts you up in his arms, holding you close against his chest. “I’ve got you.”

Unfortunately, Eren doesn’t make it very far before an abandoned car explodes nearby from a hand grenade that throws you both into the air. You land on the ground half conscious with Eren a few feet away.

You hear him groan as he slowly comes to, lifting a hand to his head, before he suddenly tenses. You see him look around with wild eyes in search of you amidst the fire and smoke from the explosion, but you don’t have the strength to call out to him. Not that it takes him long to locate you, though. Once he does, he stumbles towards you.

“Now’s your chance,” you muster out weakly when he’s close enough, coughing up blood in the process. “Leave this place.”

Eren frowns. “I’m not leaving you here.”

You glance at the blood scurrying from his head. “You’ll die….if you stay here.”

He gently wipes the blood from your mouth before picking you up as carefully as he can so he doesn’t make your injuries worse. “Dying isn’t really on my to-do list tonight. Nor is it on yours.”

As he carries you away to safety in his arms, the gunshots and chaos of the ambush fade out. Your eyes feel heavy and they start to flutter, threatening to close. You don’t know if it's the loss of blood or what, but you’re suddenly very cold and Eren feels so warm against you that you can’t help curl up closer to his chest.

You hear a vehicle pull up a few moments later. Eren’s reassuring green eyes are the last thing you see before darkness takes you.

—

You don’t know how long you drift in and out of consciousness for, but during that time all you’re mildly aware of is that you’re back in the safety and comfort of your room. A figure sits in an armchair at your bedside but you can’t see his face. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and hands on his head. You think its Levi but you’re too tired to open your eyes fully to confirm. You ache all over and you’re so tired all you want to do is sleep. You don’t even have the strength to speak.

You swiftly drift back to sleep.

—

Faint voices break through your slumber. Muffled. Distant. Like they’re in another room behind closed doors.

You recognize Eren’s voice. He sounds upset. “Why are you so against me?” he demands to know with open resentment. “If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Yes, how lucky are we,” Sasha agrees, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “that you arrived when you did.”

“You do that quite a lot,” Mikasa points out. “Show up right when she needs saving the most. A. Gallant. Hero.”

Eren scoffs in frustration. “All I want is what’s best for her! Which is more than I can say about all of you.”

There’s a loud thud and you hear Eren grunt. Mikasa has slammed Eren against the wall. “You think you can just drop in here and what?” she hisses at him. “Magically fix years of trauma by filling her head with a possibility of a different life? A better life? Free of crime and corruption?”

You hear Eren struggle against her hold. “Get off me!”

“You think she’ll turn her back on her family and choose you?” Mikasa continues. “You think that’ll make her happy? You think that’s what she wants? You don’t know anything about her! If anything you’re going to get her killed—”

“Me?!” Eren shouts incredulously. There’s some bit of struggle as you hear Eren shove Mikasa back hard enough to get some space from her. “I’m the one who’s been saving her all this time! Not you or Jean or Levi. Me. You all let her have her way, regardless of the danger it puts her in. But that girl is suffering. She is in pain. **And you all turn a blind eye to it. If you cared for her at all you would put an end to this stupid vendetta of hers that’s poisoning her mind instead of encouraging it.”

“You self-righteous prick!” comes Sasha’s outburst before lunging forward to attack him, though she must have only managed to get in one swing before Mikasa intervenes again.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend the kind of life we’ve lived,” Mikasa growls at Eren dangerously low. “The things we’ve seen and had to endure.”

“So why keep living this way?!” Eren bites back. “You’ve all spent so much time underground, you’ve forgotten what it's like to live without fear. Without suffering. You’re all chained to this way of life that you no longer wish to live a life without it. You’re all slaves to it. Prisoners. Because you choose to be.” He grunts gently as if struggling to rise to his feet. “You may all have surrendered to this way of life, but I’m not giving up on her. I won’t let her give up.”

His footsteps start to recede down the hall but Mikasa calls to him, sounding defeated, almost sad. “She’s going to break your heart.” A pause. “You know that, right?”

He takes a moment to respond. “Perhaps,” Eren finally concedes. “But it’s hers for her to break.”

As the sound of Eren’s footsteps fade down the stairs, darkness befalls you once more.

—

When you come to your senses again a few hours later, you’re more alert than before and with enough strength to stay awake for longer than a few seconds.

To the left of your bedside sits Levi, silently keeping vigil. You don’t think he’s moved since you were brought back home. But he has this distant look in his eyes that tells you he’s not really here with you. He’s somewhere far far away.

You call to him tentatively, trying to anchor him back to you. “Levi?”

The moment he hears your dry, raspy voice he snaps out of his trance and turns to you, his attention now focused solely on you. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?” His eyes scan your body, in search for any untreated wounds. “Are you still in pain?”

There is a level of concern in his voice, but it’s also thick and heavy with grief, and you immediately tense. Looking at him more closely you notice his eyes are bright red and swollen, and your stomach plummets. Levi is mourning.

You reach out to him, wanting him closer. Once he’s within reach, you rest your hand against his face and with eyes closed, he leans against your touch instantly, as if in desperate need of it.

You’re almost too afraid to ask, but you need to know.

“What happened?” you ask softly.

Levi stiffens and you immediately regret asking as he slowly starts to slip out of your touch. His jaw clenches as he struggles to voice the events that proceeded after you blacked out.

“Porco. He got away.” His hands curl into fists from where they rest on your bed, angry and frustrated. “After I saw you in that alley—” He closes his eyes, as if wanting to shut out the image of the state he found you in: bloody, bruised and broken. ”All I wanted to do was kill him. That’s all I was thinking. I didn’t realize we had followed him so close to the town border until…” He lowers his head, ashamed. “Furlan and Isabel—”

Your blood runs cold as his voice falters, and you realize what he’s struggling to say next.

Levi shakes his head with despair. “If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be here.”

You stare at him in momentary disbelief.

Furlan and Isabel are…dead?

That can’t be true. Those two are some of the most skilled, strongest, and fiercest people you know. They can’t be dead. They were Levi’s best mates.

But…

There is no other way to explain the immeasurable pain and sorrow you see in Levi’s eyes.

And it terrifies you—what this loss will do to him.

What it has already begun to do.

You reach out for him, wanting to comfort him. “Levi…” But you’re at a loss for words. There’s nothing you can say to him that will make him feel any better.

“They were my partners,” he says with deep remorse. “My soldiers.” He runs his hands through his hair. He’s still in the same attire he was in during the ambush. There’s small cuts across his clothes and dry blood on his hands, but something tells you it's not his but Furlan’s and Isabel’s blood that stains his hands red. “It’s my fault.”

“Levi, stop.” You reach for his arm, pulling him towards you. “Come.”

He does as you say without protest and your mattress shifts under his weight as he joins you. He lets you hold him until you eventually hear his breathing slow down and he falls into a dreamless sleep. Completely exhausted.

Your heart aches for him. You haven’t seen him look so devastated and downright broken. Not since the night his mother died.

And you have never felt more helpless.

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep again until you wake up some time later to the sound of water running in the bathroom. Levi’s side of the bed is empty so you can only assume it’s Levi showering in the other room, but after the water runs for longer than usual, you find the need to get up and check on him.

As you throw your legs over the side of the bed, every muscle in your body aches in protest. Worse still is when you come to stand on your own two feet. Your right leg, the one that had been sliced open across the thigh during the bombing of the Red Rose, has been cleaned, stitched up and bandaged. But fresh blood oozes out as you put pressure on it with every step you take.

Biting back a wince, you cut across your room to the bathroom in search of your fiancé.

You find Levi sitting in the bathtub, fully clothed, and with a blank expression on his face. All the while the water from the shower head continues to fall down on him like rain.

It takes all your willpower not to cry at the sight of him like this, looking so hopeless and utterly defeated. If you could take his suffering away and bear it yourself, you would. But you can’t. All you can do is comfort him and remind him he’s not alone. That, for what it's worth, he still has you.

You make sure you’re completely composed before approaching him. But when you reach into the tub to turn off the water, Levi doesn’t react to your presence.

He’s completely shut down.

“Silly boy,” you tell him gently, fighting back a wince as you bend down to sit on the edge of the tub. “You’re supposed to take your clothes off first.”

Carefully, you start to unbutton the wet shirt plastered to his body. When he remains unresponsive, you reach for the towel closest to you and gently dry his hair. Unable to take off his trousers while he remains sitting in the bathtub—not to mention his shoes which he also didn’t take off when he climbed in—you drape the towel over his shoulders like a cape to keep him warm.

Using the edge of the sink to support you, you stand. “Come on. Let’s get you changed.”

Levi doesn’t move.

“Levi, please,” you urge him, your voice nearly breaking. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Hearing the concern and desperation in your plea seems to break through to Levi. When he finally looks up at you his eyes are as bright red and swollen as before. But he’s snapped out of his daze. Recognition and awareness settles back into his features.

“I’m fine,” he says hoarsely, slowly standing to his full height. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You shake your head, not needing his apology, and wrap your arms around his neck so fiercely and without warning he almost loses his balance in the tub. “I’m here,” you murmur close to his ear. “You can talk to me or not, but I’m here.”

He’s slow to respond, but slowly his arms wrap around you so tightly it's like he fears you'll leave him too if he lets you out of his hold. You caress his head gently in consolation as he burrows himself against your neck to hide the tears he can't stop from falling.

When he finally feels ready to stand on his own, he pulls away slightly, but still keeping you at arms length. He opens his mouth slightly, wanting to say something, but he’s searching deep into your eyes, as if they’ll tell him whether to continue or not. Ultimately, whatever he sees in them tell him to withdraw and he closes his mouth with a shake of the head.

You frown at him curiously but all he offers is a tired, meek smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. To appease you from looking further into it, he leans in to kiss your brow. “I’ll be fine, love. You don’t need to worry about me.” He then glances down to his waist. “I do think I need some new trousers, though.”

You laugh faintly at the way he manages to steer the conversation but follow his lead and start to move for the door. “I’ll get them. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

But Levi catches you by the elbow before you can. “No, don’t.” He’s noticed the red spotting on the bandage from your thigh as he steps out of the tub. “I can get them. You should be resting.”

“No, Levi, please.” You rest a hand on his arm keeping you in place. “Let me take care of you.”

He swallows thickly at your words and before he can protest any further you slip out of his grip and set off in the direction of his room for a fresh set of clothes for him.

As you make your way down the hallway to his room you note the stillness of the house. You don’t know what time or day it is. You’ve lost all sense of time since the attack, but the clock in the hallway tells you its near four in the morning. You glance back at your room to where you’ve left Levi and contemplate things for a second before deciding to venture downstairs.

Ignoring the pain from your leg as you make your way down the stairs, you pass by your cadre’s rooms, needing to confirm they were alive and well. After learning of Isabel’s and Furlan’s passing, you figured Levi would have mentioned if you yourself had suffered any losses, but considering the state Levi was in and how he wasn’t really relaying too much information, you wanted to see them for yourself. Mikasa, Historia, and Sasha had rooms in the second floor while Jean and Connie were down on the first floor. After visiting each of their rooms, you only found Sasha’s bed empty, but this did not concern you as much. She was most likely out on watch somewhere. She was the only one who hadn’t been there at the pub during the attack and she was more ghost than human, anyway. That girl couldn’t be touched unless she herself wanted to.

Reaching the first floor, you glimpse through the windows in search of where the guards are posted tonight. And sure enough, Sasha is amongst them.

Once you’ve taken note of the number of guards on patrol, you head over to the kitchen to boil some water for Levi. You figure some chamomile tea might help induce sleep and lessen his insomnia. Though you’ve never been one to rely on tea the way Levi does.

As you wait for the water to boil you head into your office and search through the drawers of your desk for the bottle of painkillers you remember tossing in there a while back. Once located, you’re about to close the drawer shut when you notice another bottle of pills roll out that calls your attention.

You reach for it and twirl the bottle in your hand. You ponder things for a moment before taking both bottles with you back into the kitchen. You serve yourself a glass of water, toss a few painkillers into your mouth and wash them down with a glass of water.

When the water on the stove finally comes to a boil, you prepare Levi’s tea and pop open the lid from your second bottle. You give it a shake until a white small round pill falls into the palm of your hand. You drop it into Levi’s tea and stir it until it dissolves completely. Then, despite Levi not adding sugar to his tea, you add two teaspoons to mask the taste of the pill.

The sugar is just about dissolved when you hear footsteps approach.

“What are you doing?” Levi asks behind you.

You turn back towards the sound of his voice and find Levi standing in the kitchen doorway.

“I made you tea,” you answer promptly, sounding pleased with yourself. But then you look him over and find he’s wearing a new pair of clean clothes. “And you already changed. Sorry.”

You cut the space between you to hand him the tea. He glances down at the cup in your hand, looking guilty. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You raise the cup closer to him in encouragement. “It’ll help you sleep. Drink it.”

He takes it with a small smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.” You watch as he takes the cup from you. He takes a small sip, pauses, before drinking some more. He glances down at your leg. “You shouldn’t be applying pressure to your wound. The stitching will—”

“It’s fine.” You gently cup his face in your hands to reassure him. “Levi, I’m fine. Come on.” You take his now empty cup and leave it on the kitchen counter. You then take his free hand and start guiding him up the stairs. “Let’s go to bed.”

The sleeping pill takes effect faster than you expect so that by the time you both make it back to your room, Levi can barely keep his eyes open. He climbs on your bed first and moves closer to you in search of your warmth when you join him seconds later.

His slow and steady breathing is enough to lull you to sleep, but you’re not the one who needs rest right now. Gently, you brush back a front lock of hair from his face before moving down to caress his cheek.

Levi is strong. As much as he is hurting now, he will survive this. Even when sometimes surviving demands the worst kind of pain.

It’s near the crack of dawn when you arrive at the Founding Sector’s train station. The platform, desolate — save for you and the vendor at the ticket booth. You wear your usual long dark coat and a black newsboy cap low enough to cover your eyes and hide much of your facial features.

Taking advantage of the fact all your cadre were accounted for, with the exception of Sasha, and Levi completely passed out in your bedroom, leaving the house undetected was easier than you could have hoped. Not to mention the backstreets are desolate at this hour and you only catch a handful of merchants traveling the busier roads, getting ready to open up for business.

You rest some of your weight on a long, black cane you found leaning against the coat hanger by the front door on your way out. The painkillers you took earlier keep the pain level to a dull ache. But you’ve brought the bottle with you just incase you need a reload.

You stand at the platform waiting for the train heading towards the Karanes District with Bear perched languidly on your shoulder.

Bear lets out a long, low-pitched meow that tells you he’s not entirely happy being here with you, as if he were disapproving of your decisions tonight.

“Hush,” you hiss back. “I make the choices here.” You then add under your breath begrudgingly, “Stupid as they may be.”

You were attacked in your own town, your own pub, less than forty eight hours ago. To travel alone while you’re still severely injured is both idiotic and reckless. But it's also quite possibly the last thing anyone expects you to be doing, especially after the rough state you were last seen in. And it’s not like you’d expect any of your people to let you out of your room if they could help it. They would make you wait until you recovered, perhaps days or weeks and your fragile state of mind wasn’t willing to wait.

After the ambush on you and your people, you needed reassurance and a sense of control. To remind yourself that you still have the upper hand. Over someone, at least.

When the train arrives, you’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice when someone else gets on the train after you. Wanting to keep his presence from you unknown, he takes the passenger car next to yours and maintains his distance, watching you from afar and out of your radar for the entirety of the ride.

Once the train pulls up at the Karane’s district a short time later, you get off the train with Bear nestled comfortably in your bag. There’s a handful of morning commuters scattered throughout the platform, but they’re too caught up in their own life schedules to pay you much attention as you make your way across the platform. You try not to think about the last time you were here as you pass the same pillars you and Eren had sought shelter against the coppers targeting you not too long ago at this very station.

Eventually the station leads out into the city streets and you easily blend in against the crowd as you venture your way into the streets that will take you to Cas.

The boy will be on his way to school right about now. Normally, he gets driven to school by his own personal driver. But today is Friday. And not just any Friday. It’s the third Friday of the month. The only day of the month in which his father himself personally walks him to school.

Thanks to Sasha’s spies, you know where the boy lives, where he goes to school. You know the route they take. And you know they’re always well escorted, with two cops in front of them taking the lead, and two cops at the back.

Of course, this is of little concern to you. You have no intention of interacting with them.

When you arrive in front of the boy’s school, it's exactly as you imagine it. Hillside Academy: a private, luxurious looking academy, heavily gated and highly exclusive, meant only for the children of the social elite reigning from this district.

Strolling past the academy’s gates, you turn the corner into the street you know Cas and his father take to get to school. A glimpse at your watch tells you you’ve arrived before them so you let Bear out of your bag and let him wander the streets out in the open with you. When you look up again, you see father and son rounding the corner, making their way towards you.

Erwin Smith doesn’t notice you. He’s too busy giving his full attention to his one and only child striding along beside him to pay attention to anything else. And why should he? He’s got his little men in uniform acting as his first line of defense.

All the same, you continue strolling towards them like any regular civilian out for a morning walk. Perhaps the walking cane makes you look all the more harmless because it’s not until they’re less than five feet in front of you that Erwin’s cops signal you to stop where you are and to move down to the bottom of the sidewalk for Erwin and his son to pass.

You do so without protest and wait patiently for them to walk past you, making sure to keep your cap lowered over your face and your sleeves pulled over your wrists to hide your centipede tattoo from peeking out. Bear follows you down the sidewalk and brushes the side of your leg affectionately.

Seconds later he catches Cas’ scent walking past them. Recognizing him, Bear pauses and meows to Cas in greeting, but the moment he gets ready to pounce after the kid you catch the black fur ball and hold him steady in your arms.

At the sight of Bear, Erwin shields Cas and keeps the boy to his left while throwing Bear an appalling look, as if he were some kind of feral animal out of control.

Not to say he hadn’t been at one point. But still.

Rude.

Cas, however, treats you the way he would any other stranger and doesn’t offer you or Bear a single glance in your direction, and you smile from underneath your cap as they walk past.

As you finish walking down the street, you make a turn at the corner as Erwin and Cas disappear into the academy gates. You then lean against a lamp post nearby and wait with Bear wandering nearby.

Five minutes later, Cas appears from around the corner heading straight towards you and tackles you in a hug. He’s managed to sneak past the school guards not too long after Erwin dropped him off and you can’t help be impressed.

The boy barely reaches your waist but when he brushes against your wounded leg you fight back a curse. You rest your hand on his shoulder in warning. “Easy there, kid.”

Cas loosens his hold on you immediately and takes a small step back. “Sorry. Are you hurt? Why are you using a walking stick?”

You force a smile. “I’m fine. I just had a little fall. I’ll be better soon.”

Bear appears then and starts meowing at Cas, rubbing himself against the boy’s leg affectionately. Cas’ face brightens at the sight of him and scoops him up to embrace the fur ball.

Cas giggles in delight as Bear purrs and bumps his head against Cas’ face repeatedly. You recall the way Erwin reacted at the sight of Bear. “You weren’t kidding when you said your father hated cats.”

Cas’ smile fades a little as he sighs sadly. “Yeah.”

“Well, we definitely need to continue keeping our meetings a secret from him then, don’t we?”

Cas’ smile quickly returns and he nods, a sly glint in his eye.

You nod in the direction of his school. “You should head back before they notice you’re gone.”

“Okay,” he grumbles begrudgingly. “Will you be at the park later?”

“Not tonight. But we will visit you again soon.” When you notice how crestfallen Cas looks you tap his chin playfully and add, “I promise.”

The boy’s face lights up like sunlight and without warning throws his arms around your torso in a hug. More gently than before but still with the same amount of emotion. He then races off with a wave. You wave back at him, mirroring his excitement on your face until he disappears around the corner. Only then does your cold, calculated gaze return.

But you don’t realize how much of your attention Cas had taken from you because you don’t sense eyes on you until you’re alone.

As you turn to your left—in the direction of where you feel the presence is coming from—you find Levi standing across the street from you, watching you.

No, not watching.

Glaring.

His sudden presence throws you off for a moment, but you quickly recover as he wastes no time crossing the street to make his way towards you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “Does your father know about this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you reply dismissively, your expression impassive. You try to walk past him before he can get any closer, but he steps in your path.

“He could have recognized you.” He points behind you knowing he’s referring to the spot where you crossed paths with Erwin. “He could have killed you!”

You smile playfully. “Not if I killed him first.”

Levi’s face only hardens. “He was less than three feet away from you. You were close enough to pull the trigger.” He takes a step closer to you, eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t. Why?”

Your eyes give nothing away as he searches them for an answer, but Levi knows you all too well. He knows how your mind works and what you’re capable of. When he ultimately connects the dots, his face pales slightly and his voice turns hard. “What do you plan to do with that kid?”

The disapproval in his tone is all you need to hear and you sidestep him without a word.

This only irks him further.

“Anya!”

He attempts to grab you by the arm but you roughly break out of his hold. “Do not ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to!” you warn him with a snarl. Levi’s terrified by the darkness he sees in your eyes, in your heart. Of the control it might have over you that would have you harm a child. But what Levi doesn’t realize, or refuses to believe, is that your sense of morality is complete off the table now.

“He’s a child!” he hisses back.

You scoff, turning your back on him to resume your walk back to the station. “What’s your point?”

“He’s innocent!”

His words have you seeing red and you snap, whirling on him. “So was I! But I’m not going to wait around until they have buried everyone I’ve ever loved six feet under ground. Will you?”

Levi flinches, the wound of his friends deaths painfully fresh.

“It’s either us or them,” you remind him coldly. “That’s how its always been. The attack on the pub is just a reminder of that. So go ahead. Tell my father, if you want. It’s not going to change anything. He can’t stop me. No one can.” You lock eyes with him. “Not even you.”

You don’t give him time to argue back as you brush past him with enough force to make him step back. He doesn’t stop you though as you swipe Bear from the ground and stride off back to the train station.

Levi is just as angry but follows after you a safe distance behind, knowing that you both need space apart to cool off. At this point, tying to fight you on this matter is a lost cause. This is the one thing you will not be swayed over, no matter how much he urges you otherwise.

But… if you take that away? Where does that leave you? What will happen to you once it’s all over and done with? You’ve carried on your whole life with this personal vendetta, not caring about anything else other than being able to see it through…

He fears that’s all there is to you.

On the train ride home, he sits at the far end of the compartment opposite you. He watches you closely as you gaze outside the window, blatantly ignoring him, while he desperately tries to find any remaining traces of the girl he remembers from before dwelling somewhere within your features.

But everything about you has turned sharp and cold, all softness in you, faded. It’s practically nonexistent. When his eyes wander down to your faint laugh lines, he tries to recall the last time he heard you laugh.

He can’t.

It’s been so long since he’s genuinely heard you laugh, a laugh that wasn’t laced with vicious sneers or full of mock cruelty. The realization of this strikes him with great despair. Can he even remember it? Your laugh?

But most disturbing thought of all: is it really too late for you? Is the girl he’s cherished since he was a boy truly be lost to him forever?

That dark look in your eyes tells him you are.

But that heart of yours… shielded and protected under layers of armor. Levi knows that heart, knows your soul. And it’s what assures him that the girl he remembers from before still lives somewhere inside you, stashed away and chained behind locked doors.

And unbeknownst to you, Levi fully intends on breaking her out. He has lost too much for him to keep watching you go on like this. Too many close calls. This way of life has become too much, so whatever price he has to pay to protect you and keep you safe, he’ll pay it.

Stumbling to your feet, you venture off in the opposite direction of where you’ve left behind the unidentified corpse. But it seems that no matter where you turn, dead bodies follow.

With no end to this in sight, panic creeps in. And in your desperate search for an exit, you lose your footing and fall to the floor, face forward.

Right next to a dark-haired corpse. It’s mildly decomposed head stares back at you.

You freeze. Blank stormy grey eyes look back at you.

Mikasa’s eyes.

You jump back, your eyes glassy and stricken with fear because you’re unable to comprehend why her body is lying there before you.

But she is.

And She’s. Not. Moving.

Beside her is another body. And another body.

You look around you. You’re surrounded by the dead. There’s no end to them in sight. Worst of all? They’re all faces you recognize. Jean. Armin. Sasha. Historia. Connie. Furlan. Isabel. They’re all here.

You shake your head, refusing to accept this as you walk forward aimlessly.

"No. Please, no…”

When you come across your mother’s unmoving figure next, you swear your heart stops beating. She still lies in the same position you remember seeing her last as a kid. Crawling towards you on the ground with an array of bullet holes on her back and her hand reaching out towards you.

You numbly move towards her. Not caring that she’s more bone than flesh and reeks of nothing but decay. But as you draw nearer, your heart plummets. An indescribable noise escapes you.

A nightmare, you think. This is a nightmare.

Because lying right next to her is your father. Dead. His heart carved out of his chest.

You know where you are now.

You’re in a graveyard. A graveyard of your own making. Everyone you’ve ever loved and cared for lies dead here. Because of you. Everyone, except—

The sound of footsteps dragging against the ground is heard nearby, sending your body on alert. You take in your surroundings closely until a figure emerges from the mist behind you.

“Anya?”

Your heart catches in your throat. It’s a familiar voice. Weak and hoarse, yes, but it’s a voice you’ll recognize anywhere.

“Levi?”

You move on instinct and rush to him in relief as he comes into view, but he collapses where he stands before he can reach you. You shake your head in between sobs, terror gripping at your chest as you rush forward and fall to your knees before him.

“No!” you scream, cradling him in your arms. “No no no no! Please, no!”

He’s heavily bleeding and severely bruised and broken, but alive. Still alive.

“Levi, I’m here,” you reassure him amidst your crying, holding his face with a trembling hand. “Stay with me. Please. Please!”

But Levi’s voice is hitched, he’s struggling to even breath and his eyes are glazed and unfocused. When he opens his mouth he coughs out blood and you already know what’s coming next even though you refuse to accept it.

“No, wait!” you implore, your voice breaking. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t. Please!”

Levi doesn’t listen. Slowly, his eyes close shut and you feel the moment his soul leaves his body as he turns terrifyingly still and limp in your arms.

“NO!” you shriek, shaking him. “Wake up! Levi, wake up! Please!”

But his skin is turning deathly pale the longer he remains unresponsive and his body grows terribly cold and heavy against you.

You’re sobbing onto his chest—clutching onto the fabric of his tattered shirt so tightly your knuckles turn ghostly white, as if holding him close will keep him with you just a little bit longer— when you sense the girl in the bloody dress appear again somewhere to your right.

Your red, swollen eyes slowly veer towards her. She is crouching down over a body lying still on the ground. A body with fading green eyes watching you helplessly from afar.

Eren.

“No!” you cry out in protest, surprised to still have a voice after all your crying. “Leave him!”

Your legs feel heavy and numb amidst your grief, your body slow to react and unwilling to cooperate. Refusing to leave Levi’s side. Nonetheless, you force yourself to move, to rise.

“Please—”

You extend a hand out in front of you, urging her to stop. Except when you do, you find your hand covered in blood, making you pause in horror. You look down at your other hand. They’re both stained with blood.

You glimpse over at the girl’s hands, which are also dripping a crimson substance, and it’s like looking in the mirror. You match her reflection perfectly.

Behind you, a sea of blood approaches, taking with it all the corpses lying on the ground at your feet.

The red water rises higher and higher the more it draws near…

Until finally, it arrives.

And swallows you whole.

When you wake, you jerk up so quickly you double over. Heaving in deep, harsh, gasping breaths. So overcome, so relieved to be able to get oxygen into your lungs, you’re unable to register anything around you until you feel Levi’s familiar hand on your back and his deep, rough voice.

“Anya? What’s wrong?”

You turn to him in surprise amidst the darkness of your room. He’s half awake, his voice is groggy and his hair is ruffled, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t hold back the tears as you violently fling your arms around his neck, overjoyed with relief to find him alive and unharmed.

“Levi!”

Your whole body is shaking against him, your skin going from hot to cold too quickly as your body struggles to catch up with the fact you weren’t really just drowning in a sea of blood.

Levi tenses in your arms for the briefest of seconds, startled by the state you’re in. But he quickly pulls you in and holds you tight. Letting you lean on him for strength, comfort, support—whatever it is you need. You know he’ll provide it for you without fail.

“You’re okay,” Levi says gently, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. “It was just a bad dream. Everything’s alright.”

You pull back enough to search his face and run your eyes over his body for any sign of those cuts and bruises you’d seen on him in your dream. “You’re really okay?” you ask again, still refusing to trust your eyes.

You ignore the level of concern in his gaze as he nods, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

But you still look to the door apprehensively. Unable to get the image of all those corpses lying still in that misty graveyard, staring back at you with blank, empty eyes. Dead eyes.

“Mikasa?” you croak out. “Armin? Everyone?”

“Everyone is fine,” he assures you earnestly. “It was just a bad dream. I promise.” He kisses your forehead and pulls you into his arms again.

“This is real?” you ask, resting your head against the crook of his neck and balling the fabric of his shirt in your fists. “You’re here right now?”

He rests his solid warm hand over yours. “Yes. It’s real. I’m here.”

That night you fall asleep in his arms, inhaling in his familiar earthy and faint leather scent, listening to the beat of his heart as you burrow yourself closely against his chest. The warmth that radiates from him, and his heart’s steady rhythm is enough to lull you to sleep, if only because they’re the only two things you trust to assure you he’s still very much alive.

—

Later that afternoon after a late morning start, your father’s message regarding Lord Wald comes via Mikasa and Eren. They arrive with a look that tells you Lord Wald has done just as you’ve expected, and now you’re left to determine the poor nobleman’s fate.

Levi was supposed to have been the one to meet with Ymir to discuss over the details earlier that morning, but after your dream last night, your fiancé refused to leave you alone. So he sent Isabel in his stead, and she came back with Mikasa and Eren to serve as Ymir’s envoys.

You receive them in your office, a glass of whiskey half empty in your hand. Levi stands to your right, leaning against the bookshelf behind your desk while you sit in your leather chair as Mikasa reports the situation.

You avoid looking at her as she does—her and Eren. You’re still pretty shaken up from having seen them dead in your dreams last night. Though at least you’re in better control now, and you make sure not to let your uneasiness slip in front of them.

“He’s a proud noble,” Mikasa is saying. “He’s not one to appreciate being threatened or humiliated the way he was. He’s likely trying to establish his dominance by denying your father’s demands.”

“Of course he is,” you drawl, tracing the rim of your glass with a finger in a bored manner. “But my father gave him a deadline and he failed to deliver.” Your brows scrunch down, sarcasm shifting your tone. “Bit rude, isn’t it? He’s supposed to be a man of honor and high class.” Your eyes slide over to Eren who wears a sullen expression. You smirk. “Isn’t that right, Eren?”

Eren’s jaw clenches, glaring at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but Mikasa cuts him off before he can get the chance to speak his mind.

“Your father’s made the arrangements for tonight,” she says plainly. She then flickers her gaze over to your fiancé and you catch a hint of resentment in her eyes. “Levi and his men will be monitoring from the sidelines,” she says before her eyes slide back to you. “But you’ll be leading the job. If you succeed tonight, Ymir will restore your authority over the sector and your confinement will be terminated.”

Eren suddenly tenses beside her, taken aback by Mikasa’s words. “If she succeeds?” he repeats with a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’ll happen if she fails?”

“I won’t,” you assure him arrogantly, but that only rewards you with a glare from him.

“Humor me,” he says tightly.

You chuckle dryly. “Fine, then. I fail—” You shrug casually. “—I’m as good as dead.”

Either by Lord Wald’s men, Pixis’ men, or your own hand. Didn’t matter.

Better dead than one of their bloody prisoners.

Eren’s eyes widen and he swallows, stricken. “So then don’t do this,” he blurts out, as if it were that fucking easy.

You down the last bit of whiskey from your glass in one swing. “Not an option.”

“Yes, it is!” Eren insists desperately, marching towards you until he stands over your desk. “Anya, you don’t have to do this. Let your father handle this. This is his problem, not yours.”

A muscle in your jaw twitches. “On the contrary. That lord disrespected my father, my family.” You rise to your feet. “And by extension: me. He’s not the first to do so, but his defiance works in our favor just the same.” You step away from your desk to fix yourself another drink across the room. “He’ll serve as an example for the rest of the high lords once I’m through with him.”

Eren’s face pales, shaking his head. Failing to hide how appalled he is by your words and cold-blooded behavior. He then looks to Mikasa and Levi with equally deep aversion. Unable to comprehend why they were supporting you and letting you go through with this when it was only leading you down a darker path.

Frustrated and upset with everyone in the room, Eren fixes you with a final hard glare before turning on his heels and storming out, slamming the door behind him.

You refrain from flinching at the sound even though the look of disappointment on Eren’s face as he walked off is just as bad, if not worse. It had been directed solely at you, after all, which is why it’s left such a foul taste in your mouth. But before Mikasa or Levi can notice how much of a lingering effect Eren’s exit has had on you, you turn to them with a fixed expression and let Mikasa run through the rest of the details with you.

A short time later, you’re down in the basement collecting your weapons of choice and stuffing them in a black duffle bag from out of your armory. Levi prepares his own weapons a few feet away, but you can still sense him watching you closely.

“Do you still want to do this?” he asks you softly as you finally zip up your bag, having rounded up everything you need.

“Yes,” you reply without pause, throwing Levi a sideways glance. “Why? Getting cold feet?” You smile wryly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Levi throws you a dark look. “Don’t start.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever.” You throw the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “I don’t need you to come along, anyways.” You move for the stairs leading out of the basement. “I can handle this on my own.”

Your father had promised you freedom after this. Nothing was going to get in the way of that. Least of all your demons. Night terrors be damned.

Levi pulls back on one of the handles from your bag before you can reach the stairs, forcing you to step back. “I know you can,” he says, taking your bag from you with his free hand and hauling it over his own shoulder. “But I’m still coming. Besides, you heard your father’s conditions. You want back in, you have to listen to me.”

He smirks in amusement when you glower at him.

“Go get changed,” he then says, nodding to the door. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

As Levi takes the bags of weapons to the car, you head up the stairs to change into more suitable attire for tonight. When you finish dressing, you hear footsteps in the hallway outside your room. You think its Levi coming to check on you, but as you step out of your room, you find Eren standing at the end of the hallway, blocking your access to the stairs.

You frown, noting the open window at the end of the hallway. Did he sneak in by climbing the fucking wall?

The moment he spots you, Eren’s back straightens in attention. “Anya.”

You sigh, knowing why he’s here.

“Fuck off,” you mutter halfheartedly, brushing past him to avoid looking at those captivatingly green eyes of his.

But you don’t miss the way his brows crease down as he takes in what you’re wearing. The black tailored suit and coat and dark gloves he’s seen you and your people wear before for evenings such as these.

Nonetheless, you start down the stairs, taking no more than a few steps before he stops you.

“Anya, please,” he implores, his hand firmly clasping your arm. “Don’t go.”

“Let go, Eren,” you warn him in a dangerously low tone, keeping your back to him. But Eren doesn’t heed your warning and hastily steps in your path, forcing you to meet his hopeful gaze.

“Stay with me,” he pleads again, almost petulantly. “You have enough blood on your hands. You don’t need to add any more.”

You roll your eyes at him and sharply break out of his hold. “Nice try, pretty boy.” You shove him aside and resume your way down the stairs.

Eren follows after you. “Please, Anya!” he calls behind you. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know it doesn’t. You can stop it. All this violence and unnecessary bloodshed, let this end with you.”

Your laugh is sharp and cynical but your pace doesn’t slow down for him.

“You can’t tell me you enjoy this!” Eren accuses reproachfully. “Hurting people.”

You stop in your tracks, hearing the rancor in his voice and knowing you need to use this to your advantage.

“And if I say I do?” you ask, your voice dropping down a few degrees.

“I don’t believe it.”

You clench your jaw, hating how the longer he stayed by your side, the more he got to witness the darkest sides of you. The parts you hated and wished he never knew existed.

But this is who you are—or at least, who he needs to believe you are.

Slowly, you turn towards him and meet his bright green eyes with dark, malicious intent. “You don’t believe it when I say I crave it? That it brings me great satisfaction to hear my enemies cry out and beg me for mercy? You don’t believe me when I tell you that seeing them bleed out, seeing the life leave their eyes, is my favorite part?”

Eren glares at you. “You’re lying.”

You smile cruelly. “Come see for yourself then, if you’re so sure I’m lying.”

You turn and resume walking down the stairs, but Eren doesn’t take the bait. For a while he doesn’t move or speak, even when you can sense him watching you from behind, his eyes burning into the back of your head.

It isn’t until you’re more than halfway down the stairs that he finally says, “This isn’t going to get you your freedom back, you know.”

You pause mid-step as he goes on, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion. “Unless you learn to let go of all that hatred and vengeance you carry in your heart, you’ll never be free.”

Your nails dig into the palm of your hands as your hands curl into fists at your side. You don’t know why but hearing him say this depresses the hell out of you.

Perhaps its because you knew he would try this—try to save you. And honestly, maybe this is why you let him live. Because you wanted him to tell you that you were worth saving despite all your crooked ways. That you could have a chance at a good life, away from all this. With him.

A part of you desired that, you won’t deny it. But there was also another part of you, a greater, vindictive part who sought vengeance. Justice. For your mother’s death. For Levi’s parents. For the once bright and beautiful life rudely taken from you. And for the darkness that took its place.

In the end, that part of you always won.

Without sparing a word or second glance in Eren’s direction, you resume the last set of stairs and cut across the foyer to the front door.

Tonight requires you to leave all forms of sentiment behind. So you carve out your deadbeat heart and leave it for Eren to hold while your demons roam free in its place.

—

It’s nearly two in the morning when you finally make it back home after completing your father’s assignment.

You’re envisioning the shower you’re going to take as you walk through your front door before crashing for the night, Levi following close behind. Only for you to find your entire inner circle standing in the foyer, anxiously waiting for your return.

Not that this bothers you.

Seeing them all back where they belong, here with you, serves as a reminder to you that tonight was worth it.

Your cadre must have heard your car pull in at the front of your house for them to be lingering by the entrance so attentively. The relief that washed over them at the sight of you at the doorway is evident, and you feel the tension that had been building up in the room subside.

Mikasa steps forward to greet you first. “You’re home,” she says in open relief.

“Yes…” you say, trailing off as your attention shifts to Eren standing beside Historia by the staircase. “Except for that one.”

Everyone turns in Eren’s direction but the guy doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is drawn to the dried blood on your hands and ruined clothes. When his eyes finally look up to meet yours, you steel yourself against the appalled look on his face.

Fuck. He really needs to stop looking at you like that.

But Eren’s confirmed what he needed to see and marches for the door without a word, jaw tight.

You scoff as he roughly bumps past you. “Something you wish to say?” you ask him coolly, even though you’re afraid of what he might say to you when he looks as upset as he does.

You’ve already provoked him though. His footsteps stop short behind you. It’s too late to take it back now.

“No,” he replies, choking out the word as if its being yanked from his throat before then adding in a spiteful tone, “I hope you sleep well tonight.”

You sense his eyes on you and you glance behind you to find him watching you over his shoulder bitterly. So you smile at him shamelessly. “Like the dead.”

He scowls at your remark before storming out the door, disgusted by the flippancy in your behavior despite the visible traces you bare on your person, telling him of how you experimented with all the different ways you knew to kill a man.

And yet, once inside the privacy of your own room, your highly composed mask falls away as you rush to the bathroom to wash away all evidence of tonight’s transgression from your skin and clothes. You try to resist it but shame and guilt course through you—emotions you hadn’t felt hours ago— as you stare down at your blood stained hands, at the water filling the sink a diluted shade of crimson.

You look up at the mirror on the wall in front of the sink, loathing the reflection staring back at you. Behind you in the darkness, your demons have been watching you closely since you arrived, having stirred from their slumber.

The minute the reflection of the girl in the white dress appears through the mirror, you want to punch the glass until it shatters. Perhaps you do, because moments later the darkness surrounding you begins to cave in around you as your demons stalk forward with calculating precision, seeking for an opportunity to attack.

They find it.

They pounce.

—

The days that follow prove to be more than detrimental for your crippling state of mind. You avoid the mirrors around the house at all costs, afraid to find the monster Eren caught a glimpse of the other night staring back at you. But even without looking at your reflection in the mirror, you know the red rimmed eyes are there and the dark circles under your eyes have turned far more prominent than before.

All the while your darkness grows heavier, infesting your heart and soul, dragging behind you like a well worn cloak.

But perhaps most damaging of all is Eren and his unwavering morality you can’t seem to grow immune to.

How can he make you feel so ashamed by your actions with a simple look? Disappointing him shouldn’t bother you or affect you in any way. And yet he’s made you hesitate, made you doubt, made you question your principles far more often than you care to admit.

So when you overhear Eren one day talking to Historia in your father’s office about wanting to take up your family mark and devoting himself wholeheartedly to House Ymir like Historia and the rest of your circle, you panic.

Knowing that the only person more against this than you is Levi, you stay up waiting for him that night, a switchblade twirling in your hands absentmindedly, until he arrives near the crack of dawn.

Not that you’re usually asleep at this hour. As of late, these nightmares of yours have offered you little peace of mind to provide you with a proper nights sleep.

The moment Levi opens the door to your room and finds you wide awake, still in your work attire with a blade in your hand and pacing across your room restlessly, he tenses.

“What’s wrong?” he demands, concern laced in his tired voice.

“Eren wants to swear his loyalty to my father,” you divulge anxiously as he approaches you. “To the Ymir clan.”

To me, you don’t say.

Levi stares at you for a second, taken aback by the abrupt mention of Eren. But after realizing you’re in no real trouble, his muscles relax and he sighs in relief. Cutting the space between you, he smirks dryly. “I thought he already had.”

He reaches out for you but you move away before he can and you resume your pacing, the switchblade in your hand still moving. “You know what I mean. He wants to seal it in ink. Officially. For the whole bloody world to know that he belongs to us.”

Levi frowns, pausing where you’ve left him in the middle of the room. “Ymir doesn’t trust him. He won’t allow that.”

“He will if Eren keeps this up,” you grumble, slowing down your pacing as Eren’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

Are you? he had once asked you. A monster?

“Keeps what up?” Levi asks, coming up behind you and sliding his arms around you while gently taking the switchblade you hold tightly in your hand.

“Getting under my skin,” you admit quietly, letting Levi take the blade from you before turning in his arms to face him. The eyes looking back at you are soft and vulnerable, though dim and full of fatigue. Wanting to smooth out his rough edges, you raise a hand to caress his face tenderly and he closes his eyes in comfort, leaning against your touch lovingly.

“I need him away from me,” you tell your fiancé earnestly. “Do what you must, but I can’t have him on my team, Levi. He’ll just end up messing everything up.”

Levi nods in agreement and rests his forehead against yours, putting you more at ease because you know how much Levi doesn’t trust Eren near you. So you know he will do whatever he can to keep him away.

And yet not even Levi’s favoritism with your father is enough to change his mind about Eren.

After meeting with your father the following day, Levi informs you that until whatever it is Ymir wants with Eren to unfold, the guy was here to stay. Much to his and your great displeasure.

Levi did manage to convince Ymir to take Eren under his squad, at least. That way Isabel and Furlan could keep an eye on him next door whenever Levi couldn’t.

Still, you did your part to limit your interactions with Eren as much as possible so he’d grasp the idea you didn’t want him near, and thus refrain from wanting to swear his loyalty to your clan. It helped that he was not permitted inside your house (you had made sure all the doors and windows he could sneak in through like he had before were barred or heavily guarded), but there were times in the office or at the pub or on your way through town where you would have to blatantly ignore him while Mikasa or Jean kept him at a distance or walk in the opposite direction when you were alone so as to completely avoid him.

It was foolish to think this would work on him for long when it had proven unsuccessful in the past. If anything, by pushing him away from you and your circle, he was forced to bond more closely with Furlan and Isabel which was something neither you or Levi had anticipated.

To some extent at least, you could understand it. Eren arrived into town feeling like an outsider and you could tell that he longed to feel included. He wanted that sense of belonging. Even if it was with crooked people like you and your family. So it really came as no surprise when, after having had enough with being tossed aside and ignored by you, Eren forced his way into your home with the help of Furlan and Isabel while you trained down in the basement with Jean and Mikasa one late evening, demanding a word with you.

The moment you hear Isabel trading off insults with Connie and Sasha upstairs, you exhale sharply and take on a more relaxed stance, preparing yourself for what’s coming.

Or rather, who.

Jean and Mikasa are the only ones in the training room with you so when they first hear the commotion upstairs, they straighten in attention. Bodies on alert. All the while you twirl the metal rod you had been wielding against Mikasa during practice around mindlessly, tense and slightly irritable.

When Furlan and Isabel appear walking down the stairs of the training room with Eren at their heels, you keep your rod still at your side.

Isabel looks down at Mikasa and Jean distastefully as they take on a protective stance in front of you, expressing their disapproval at Furlan and Isabel’s unannounced presence. Immediately you feel the tension in the room build between Jean and Mikasa and Isabel and Furlan as they line up against each other.

Isabel and Furlan are one of several members in the Ackerman clan who heavily opposed the idea of their Ackerman leader bowing down to another clan leader. They still hold onto the belief that the Ackerman clan are the most powerful clan of them all and should be feared and respected rather than pitied and regarded as nothing more than mere bodyguards to the Ymir clan, when it is because of the Ackermans that the Ymir Sector is still standing at all.

This has caused a rift between Levi’s men and yours that neither you or Levi’s union has been able to mend. And with neither clan willing to work together or trust one another, the more damage both parties inflict to House Ymir’s reputation against the growing threat of the rest of the crime gangs.

You don’t approve of Isabel’s and Furlan’s views against your family, but of one thing they are right about. You will always be indebted to the Ackermans for coming to your family’s aid when they did. You will not deny them of that honor. But what most Ackerman’s refused to accept is that whatever power and strength they once had before, House Ymir now had tenfold.

Adding Eren into the mix has, regrettably, only made things worse. For both parties.

“Get. Out.” Jean enunciates in warning, blocking them off at the entrance. “You have no business here.”

Furlan bristles at Jean’s tone but he holds his ground and lets Isabel do the talking.

“Sheesh. How rude,” she chides. “Do you talk to all women that way? No wonder you’re always in such a foul mood.” Her eyes slide over to Mikasa standing behind him and a dark grin creeps up at the corner of her lips. “Maybe Mikasa can help you out in that department.”

“Levi isn’t here, Isabel,” Mikasa cuts in calmly before Jean can retaliate. “So I suggest you and the rest of your party leave. Now. You know better than to bring him here.”

Isabel glances over at Eren over her shoulder, knowing Mikasa is referring to him, before turning to smile sweetly at her. And then at you. “No, I don’t think so.”

Isabel steps forward, leading Furlan and Eren further into the room, sidestepping Jean and Mikasa. The second they do, Jean moves to grab them, but you voice against it, refusing to be the one to incite violence between both houses.

“Leave them,” you say dismissively. “We’re finished here anyway.”

You move to put your weapons back in its place at the back of the room, but Eren steps forward.

“No,” he says firmly. “You’re not leaving until I speak with you.”

You turn to raise an eyebrow at him, taken aback by the command in his tone. “Excuse me?”

Mikasa holds Jean back before he can make a move on Eren. Though Jean’s glare is just as dangerous. “Careful how you speak to her,” he growls in warning.

Isabel laughs and goes to stand beside Eren, resting an arm over his shoulder languidly. “I know this is hard for you all, but would it really kill you lot to be less hostile and a little more civil with the poor guy?” Her words get directed towards you as she adds, “What has he ever done except save your life?”

You glower at her, fighting against every muscle in your body wanting to smack that stupid little smirk from her face.

“If Eren’s asking at all,” Furlan hisses, coming to flank Eren’s other side, “it’s out of courtesy. At the end of the day its Ymir who’s going to decide this.”

“Decide what?” you demand through gritted teeth.

When all three take too long to reply to you, Jean snaps. “Speak for fucks sake!”

Isabel and Furlan turn to Eren who locks eyes with you and says, “I want to take up your family’s mark.”

The metal rod you had been holding in your hands clatters to the floor.

“No,” you answer sharply with a scowl, your tone cold as ice, before walking right past them in favor of the door.

“I’m ready,” Eren insists, trailing after you.

You scoff over your shoulder. “Like hell you are.”

“He completed his training —” Furlan points out behind you, trying to help Eren’s case.

Except this stops you dead in your tracks.

“Training?” you repeat, your voice trembling with growing rage. You should have fucking expected this. Eren was a charming lad. If he had managed to bond with Levi’s pals so well and so quickly, of course he would have found a way to convince them to train him. You slowly twist to face Furlan and Isabel. “You defied my orders?”

Isabel loses her playfulness and steps forward with arms crossed, approaching you in that menacing way she approaches her enemies. “You’re the one who spared him and brought him into this,” she hisses at you roughly. “He should be able to fend for himself.”

“And we do not listen to you,” adds Furlan hotly beside her. “Training him were Levi’s orders.”

You let out a noise that’s something between a scoff and a laugh while you shake your head and poke the inside of your tongue with indignation.

“Why are you so against this?” Eren asks in that soft-natured tone of his, brazenly stepping closer to you. “Everyone thinks this a good idea. Why don’t you?”

“Because I have no need for you!” you shout at him with enough spite to make him flinch.

Exasperated and refusing to show remorse, you turn away from him towards the stairs leading out of the basement, but Eren hastily steps in your path.

“Please,” he urges once more, “I just want to stay by your side longer. Why is that so bad?”

You falter, completely taken aback by what he’s said that you find yourself struggling to find your voice again. Why did your heart flutter at such words?

But the moment is fleeting, and you quickly come to your senses.

“Step aside,” you order hoarsely, swallowing down the unwelcoming feeling in an attempt to drive it out of your system.

Eren scowls, gaze unyielding. “No. Not until you agree.”

Your eyes narrow, keeping your eyes leveled to his for a moment longer, waiting for him to give in. When he refuses to relent, you nod.

Very well then.

You shift to a more relaxed stance and start to turn away, as if giving in to him. Then without warning, you swipe one of your blades from out of its sheath and lunge for him. He reacts quicker than you expect and dips out of the way, causing your knife to sail over his shoulder and miss him by a few inches. Taking advantage of your loss of momentum, he grips your arm, yanking you forward and flipping you around the side of his body. You’re airborne for a heartbeat before you smack into the training mat, your back taking the impact, hard. He takes the dagger from your hand just as swiftly and throws it aside.

You lie on the mat blinking, stunned. Trying to process what just happened. He looms over you as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“I can fight,” he assures you adamantly.

Mikasa and Jean rush forward when they realize what happened, ready to murder Eren, but you beat them to it.

Reaching for him, you pull Eren by the collar and dig your foot on his hip, determined to prove a point. Utilizing his own momentum, you lift him up, making him fly over you and land on his own back. Right in front of Mikasa and Jean who come to a quick halt.

Eren groans as the air is knocked out of him, his face red and twisted in pain, but you don’t give him time to recover. Discarding all your knives from their sheaths on the side of the mat, you stride towards him with raised fists, hating him, hating yourself, for having to take it this far.

When Eren sees you approach with dangerous intentions, he hastily stumbles to his feet and takes up a defensive stance, bracing himself against you as you hit him with a series of violent and angry punches.

“You think you can survive this place now that you’ve got some reflexes and fighting moves drilled into you?!” you taunt viciously. “You think that’s all it takes?!”

Fragmented images of your ever-present nightmares invade your mind with each successful strike of yours that lands true, their impact expressing your frustration. Images of your mother and father lying cold and dead in some forsaken gravesite. Of Levi, Mikasa, and Armin staring back at you with blank, soulless eyes. Of Eren’s fading green eyes…Of his blood on your hands, splattered on the dress of that wretched girl who refused to stay buried; that weak and stupidly naive little girl who insists on haunting you forever, never letting you forget the weight of your sins.

Eren attempts to block as many of your attacks despite you closing in, and though he evades a few, you still land far more than he can dodge. Reaching exertion, you finish your attack with a high spinning kick that knocks him to the ground. He lands on his back with a heavy groan, watching you warily as you circle around him.

“I need someone who will do whatever it takes without question,” you say to Eren roughly, your chest still rising and falling rapidly from all your pent up rage. “Who won’t hesitate to pull the trigger when I command it.”

Eren slowly attempts to roll over onto his hands and knees as you speak, showing you his face. You grit your teeth to refrain from grimacing as his face twists in pain at the motion while also blatantly ignoring the blood that spills from his mouth and now pools on the floor in front of him.

Taking advantage of where he’s facing, you come up behind him and yank him by the back of his hair, forcing him to look at Mikasa and Jean as they watch you both from the sidelines while they hold back Isabel and Furlan from interfering.

“You see them?” you hiss into his ear as he groans in protest against your hold. “There is a special kind of darkness in each of them. A darkness that can’t be taught. Know why? Because they have nothing left to fear. The worst that could possibly happen to them already has. There is only anger left in their eyes. Anger and an insatiable desire for blood.”

You release him carelessly and without warning, making him land on all fours. His eyes remain downcast as he tries to collect himself.

“But when I look at you,” you continue, crouching down in front of him and lifting his chin with a finger so he can meet your gaze, “I see none of that. You are nothing but a waste of my time. A liability. And I will not have any of them risk their lives to save someone who doesn’t belong here in the first place.”

But Eren surprises you with a soft smile, and you tense at the sight of it.

“You did,” he points out. “You risked your life for me. That night at the train station in the Karane’s district.”

Your jaw clenches, unable to deny it because he’s right. You did go out of your way to protect him. By making yourself the main target and drawing the attention away from him, Eren survived the ambush from those coppers without a scratch.

Still, you refuse to give in to him so easily. If only because you know how much that goodness in his soul will always weigh him down, will always make him hesitate when the choice needs to be made.

“You will never be ready,” you snarl at him with finality, rising to your full height. “Do not ask again.”

Turning your back on him, you walk away to pick up your blades from where you tossed them. But your hands are unsteady as you slide your knives into their holsters. You tell yourself its the adrenaline rush and not the sight of Eren’s blood on your hands and the uncanny resemblance it has to your dreams.

But it doesn’t matter.

You’re no stranger to guilt’s familiar touch. You know what follows.

Storming out of that basement, you head up to your room with trembling lips and eyes rimmed with tears. You barely make it to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, before you fall to the ground on all fours and break down into uncontrollable sobbing.

“FUCK!” you scream out into the darkness of your room. This isn’t how things were supposed to go! All you had wanted was to protect him. Protect him the way you wish the world could have protected you.

But as it turns out….it was you he needed most protecting from. You who was causing him the most pain and torment. You who was inflicting the most harm.

“You were supposed to stay away,” you mumble miserably, head cradled in the palm of your blood stained hands. “Why didn’t you listen?”

Needing to rid yourself of this overwhelming pain and guilt and self-loathing, you raise your head and look around the room in search of something to help make it all go away.

You force yourself to your feet and cut across the room to your bedside table and open its drawer. You pull out the silver flask stored in there but it comes out empty when you unclasp the lid open. Tossing it aside you move to your closet, remembering of the flask you carry around in your coat that you had refilled not too long ago. You whimper with relief when you find it and hear the liquid slosh around inside.

Without hesitating, you unscrew the lid and bring it to your lips. Taking in a gracious amount of pure, undiluted whiskey, you let it run down your throat until you have enough in your system to soothe your nerves.

Once calm and more resilient to your emotions, you move for the bathroom and turn on the hot water from the bathtub. The water is scalding to the touch but you don’t bother regulating the temperature. You let the tub fill up as you undress and turn it off after it fills. Leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor next to the tub, you swing your legs over and lower yourself until everything below your shoulders is submerged in water.

As you sit there, staring at the wall in front of you with a detached gaze, you see the girl in the white dress standing by the bathroom door from the reflection of the bathroom sink. Not wanting to deal with her dreary presence, you slide underwater so you don’t have to see her, hoping that when you come back up for air she’ll be gone.

You last twenty seconds underwater, thinking of nothing but the panic of your lungs as they start to cry out in protest the longer you deprive them of oxygen, before finally rising to the surface again. When you do, the girl is gone.

Noticing the pack of cigarettes on the floor that fell from your clothes, you reach for your lighter beside them and take out a cigarette to light it.

Once you blow out your first puff of smoke, you close your eyes and rest your head against the back of the tub, feeling a lot more relaxed. You almost manage to doze off until something wet splashes on your face. Like a water drop. Then another.

Slowly, you draw your eyes open to wipe at the wetness, but as you pull your hand back, you notice your fingers are smeared with crimson.

Again.

You frown. Strange.

When another drop falls, splashing on the water in the tub and causing it to ripple, you look up. Instantly, your body runs cold.

The ceiling is saturated in red and you know its blood. It pools in place and falls in heavy drops above you, slowly gliding down the walls.

You heart starts to race. Fright bubbles inside you.

When you glance down at the water in the tub again you scream and jump to your feet in complete horror. The water in the bath runs red with blood. Thick, dark, sticky and swirling in endless ripples. You tumble out of the tub in haste and onto the wet, cold tile floor.

You shake your head and start to crawl away but the hallucination refuses to disappear no matter how many times you close your eyes to it. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real, you repeat to yourself like a mantra. But the more you go on saying it, the less you believe it.

In the other room, someone bangs on your bedroom door, calling your name. But the door is locked. You can tell by their shouting they’re desperately trying to get in, but you make no move to let them in.

You remain folded in on yourself, dripping wet, cold, and naked, in the corner of your bathroom.

Shaking.

Crying.

Terrified.

Muttering over and over again to yourself, “What’s happening to me?”

You don’t know how much time passes before you finally register the voice calling to you from somewhere in the distance.

His voice sounds murky, muffled. Like he’s deep underwater. But then you feel firm hands shake you to attention. You blink slowly, as if coming out of a daze.

Levi’s face comes to focus and you feel his hands cup your face in worry. “Are you hurt? What happened?” he’s saying, eyes wide in alarm. “The second I got home, I heard your scream.”

Levi’s words seem to flare your senses to life and anchor you to the present. Levi’s crouching in front of you, a bathrobe wrapped around you that hadn’t been there before. Over his shoulder you notice he’s broken the door down to your room. But its the furtive glance you give the bathroom ceiling and walls that fills you with dread.

There’s no traces of blood.

Anywhere.

You jump to your feet and sprint for the bath tub to check the water, startling Levi in your haste. But the water is crystal clear as well, no traces of blood in sight.

Levi approaches you carefully. “Anya? Are you alright?”

It takes you a second to find your voice and say, none too convincingly, “I’m fine. I… slipped… and fell.”

Levi frowns. Your voice sounds distant, off, like you’re mentally not quite there with him yet. “Are you hurt?”

A beat passes. “…No,” you answer faintly. Trying to process what happened, what you saw. If it had been real at all or if it had all been in your head because…it sure as hell felt real. And yet…

“Anya, look at me.”

When you don’t seem to hear him, Levi’s fingers turn your face to him.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Slowly, your gaze shifts to him. Anxious grey eyes stare back at you. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? You didn’t hit your head anywhere when you fell, did you?”

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You want to tell him how afraid you are. That the control you once had over your demons is slipping. That they’ve taken advantage of your growing weakness and are concocting an attack against you, threatening to overthrow you so they can run amok.

But the words refuse to form.

“I’m… tired,” you say instead, your shoulders sagging in defeat as you feel a lump forming in your throat. “I’m so tired.”

Your voice breaks at the end and you close your eyes, bringing your hands to your face to hide behind them in shame as you cry.

You don’t see the heartbreaking expression in Levi’s face as you break down in front of him, but you can hear the deep lament in his voice.

“I know,” he says to you softly, lifting you from the cold hard floor and carrying you to your bed in one gentle swoop. “I know.”

He holds you close in his arms throughout the night, not once letting you go.

Until morning comes, anyways, and you wake up alone.

He’s left early in the morning. You’d stirred awake when he had, sensing his absence immediately. But you had made no signs of letting him know.

As you felt him gently kiss your brow goodbye, you had heard him talking to Mikasa at the door as he was walking out of your room to leave, telling her to make sure you took it easy and stayed home.

But…

To do that meant giving in to your demons.

And you refuse to do so.

Throwing the sheets to the side, you swing your legs over the bed and get ready to leave.

If your demons want to toy with you, play mind tricks with you, try to get you to submit to them, then why can’t you do the same to them? They needed a not-so-gentle reminder of why you were allowing your soul to darken in the first place. That this was your choice. You were letting this happen, not the other way around.

It’s almost noon when you arrive downstairs dressed in your regular black tailored suit and coat. But you’re not as loaded in weapons as usual — there’s no need where you’re going.

Making your way over to where you hear your cadre gathered in the dining room for lunch, you feel the tension in your muscles ease at the boisterous noise coming down the hall from their presence.

They greet you when you walk into the room like normal, but Mikasa notices you’re dressed to go out and she stands with narrowed eyes. “Where are you going?”

You ignore her and direct your attention to the rest of your cadre. “I need black dahlia’s,” you casually announce to the room.

Utensils clatter against the table as you obtain your cadre’s sudden undivided attention. The dark crimson flowers you speak of give them a clear indication of what your plans are for today and an air of melancholia fills the room.

Your eyes wander across the room and rest on the blond girl sitting beside Sasha. “Historia. Care to fetch some for us?”

Historia nods and rises from her seat. Jean offers to accompany her as she moves for the door and they leave together, assuring you a speedy return. As they disappear out the door, your eyes slide over to Mikasa and wait for her opposition.

But it never comes.

Perhaps she’s comforted by the fact you’re allowing her and all of your cadre to accompany you. Or maybe that distant, somber look in her eyes has something to do with it. Sasha and Connie wear the same look, as if reminiscing on past memories, and you look away, unable to look at them for long.

“Get ready,” you say to get them moving. “We leave the moment they return.”

When Historia and Jean each return with a bouquet of flowers in hand half an hour later, you lead the way out, taking Jean, Mikasa, Historia, Sasha and Connie with you.

The morning air is cold and unwelcoming as you all step out in the street, but you need the walk and fresh air to clear your head from the monsters still lingering within. You need more than just the memories of the night your world turned upside down to give you strength. The Founding Sector’s Memorial Park is the last card up your sleeve you have left to play.

This has to work.

The memorial park itself is located uptown and about a twenty minute walk away from where you reside. But you sense him behind you long before leaving the outskirts of your neighborhood.

Sasha and Mikasa are the first to pick on his presence after you.

When Jean sees them both pause, he turns in the direction they’re looking over their shoulders and spots Eren standing in the middle of the road behind them a few feet away, trailing after your group like a wounded puppy.

Perhaps because he is.

He’s got a small bandaid on his left cheekbone and a bruise on his lower lip from where you kicked him last night. He also walks with a slight limp and you don’t miss the way he wraps an arm around his middle either, sore from all your punches.

“How much beating do you have to take before it gets into that skull of yours to back off?” Jean snarls, starting to move towards him.

“Wait,” you tell Jean calmly with a tilt of the head before he can reach Eren, your expression calculating. When the monsters in your head first broke free from their cages and made you question your morality, they had taken a physical toll on you until you collapsed. But when you came back to your senses… Eren had been there to help you keep them at bay with just his presence.

Could he… do that again now?

“Leave him,” you tell Jean, making him stop in his tracks before reaching Eren. “This will be good for him.”

The surprise on your cadre’s face at your command mirrors Eren’s, but you ignore them all and start to turn back around and resume your walk up north in the direction of the memorial park.

“Where are you going?” Eren questions warily, clearly determined to thwart whatever evil plans you have in store as he manages to catch up with you.

You chuckle dryly. He’s assumed that because you have all of your cadre with you, you’re out to cause mayhem.

“To visit some old friends,” you reply.

He frowns. “Your definition of ‘friends’ isn’t really—”

“They’re harmless,” you reassure him with a weak smile. “I promise.”

When you and your inner circle finally arrive at the Founding Sector’s Memorial Park, the sun’s warmth has reached its highest peak, which isn’t much considering it’s late into November.

Eren stops short a few paces behind as you enter, his face paling as he stands at the cemetery’s black gates, not thinking this place was where you were headed.

“What’s the matter?” you ask him over your shoulder. “Never stepped foot in a cemetery before?”

Passing the gateway, Historia hands you a handful of black dahlias and distributes the rest to your circle. You all then disperse wordlessly throughout the cemetery to give respects to all the fallen friends once under your command.

As you make your way through the cemetery and pass the gravestones of your fallen comrades, you place a black dahlia in each of their respective graves with a heavy heart.

Your memories of that night when your home was invaded haunts you always.

But so does this.

Seeing the names engraved on the headstones of those who sacrificed their lives for you over the years is a harsh reality, a painful reminder of what you owe them—of the promise you made to them as you sent them off to die for you.

It’s also exactly what you need to take back the reins from those trying to take it from you.

Not that this sense of empowerment lasts very long, unfortunately.

You’re down to your last set of black dahlias when Eren finally finds you. His steps are heedful as he draws closer. His voice, mild. “These old friends of yours…” he begins to say as you place your second to last flower on a grave. “They’re…?”

“Dead?” you offer dryly. “Yes.” After a short pause, you throw him a tight smile as he comes to stand beside you. “Because of me.”

His head turns to you with a frown. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I gave them orders to follow, knowing it would result in their deaths, and I let them go anyway.” You glance over at your cadre standing in front of the gravestones of their fallen friends a notable distance away and add faintly, “They all hate me for it. The grief they carry is because of me.”

Eren remains quiet, following your line of sight. Jean has his back to you a few feet away as he stands in front of Marco’s grave, but he doesn’t need to face you to know the amount of pain and grief etched on his face. A few rows ahead of him, Historia is doubled over in front of the grave of that girl with brown hair and freckled face that saved her from the brothel.

“You know,” Eren says gently, breaking your focus away from them, “considering how overprotective they are over you, and willing to do just about anything for you, I find that hard to believe.”

A soft smile appears on your lips that leaves just as quickly. “I don’t doubt their loyalty to me. But I'm sure they harbor some form of hate and resentment for sending off their friends to die for me.”

You turn away to take the lead up to the higher level of the cemetery, to the grave at the top of the hill made of fine marble. Eren follows.

“That’s the thing about this life,” you continue to say to him as you arrive to stand in front of the lone grave with your mother’s name engraved in a cursive font. “We get attached to things.” You stare down at the marble stone with hard eyes. “And then, when they’re taken from us, we’re left longing for them.”

“Is that so bad?” Eren asks. “That’s what makes us human. You’re supposed to feel things.”

You kiss the last black dahlia in your hand and place the flower on your mother’s grave. “Unlike you,” you reply back, your voice lacking its usual venom, “I don’t have the luxury of living that way. In this line of work, to show weakness is to get killed.”

He nods and smiles sadly at you as you continue watching over your mother’s grave with deep longing. “So you keep saying.” He starts backing away. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, getting the sense you want to be alone, even though that’s far from the truth.

You don’t want to be alone. You don’t know what it is about him, but the need for violence sleeps when he’s around. With him near, your mind is silent.

And its comforting, this silence.

But with every step he takes further away from you, the more of his light he takes with him. Leaving you cold and alone in your ever-growing darkness.

Images from last night invade your mind, reminding you of the blood dripping from your bathroom ceiling, of the blood sliding down the walls, of the water in your bathtub turning red with blood, threatening to drown you whole, and you panic.

“Wait!” you call to him before you can change your mind.

One second passes.

Two seconds.

Finally, you say: “I accept your offer.”

Eren stops dead in his tracks.

Slowly, he turns to you, as if still not quite believing what you’re saying. “My offer?”

You take a step towards him. “Didn’t you want to prove to me I’m not a complete monster? That somewhere buried deep down under all my shit is a human heart? That the world isn’t complete shit? Or have you already given up on me?”

His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why? You were so against it before. What’s changed?”

You smile dryly. Because I’m on the verge of falling apart, you don’t say.

“You owe me a bottle of scotch,” you say instead with a carefree shrug. “The one you broke saving my neck.”

He smiles in slight amusement, but he doesn’t take the bait. “If you are accepting my offer, you have to be willing to let me get close. Do I have your permission to do so?”

You slide your hands in the pocket of your trousers and stand your ground. “Yes.”

He walks closer and you don’t step away.

“You really won’t push me away anymore?” he asks.

“No.”

As if to test you, he starts to raise a hand as a means to reach out to you. But before you can feel his warm hand caress your cheek, he spots movement behind you and you watch him glance over your shoulder warily where you sense Sasha’s wraith-like steps approaching behind you, eyeing Eren closely.

Eren swallows and quickly withdraws his hand, backing away from you and throwing you an accusatory look for lying to him. You answer him with a crooked grin. “I didn’t say anything about them.”

Brushing past him, you make your way back down the cemetery, collecting your cadre as you go.

An overcast is beginning to set in that deeply unsettles you. The cemetery, the fog, your cadre. It all resembles too closely to your nightmare for you to want to stick around longer than necessary.

You collect Jean at the end, who’s eyes are bright red with grief. You rest a hand on his shoulder before passing, signaling for him that you’re getting ready to leave and that he follow when he’s ready.

Reaching the threshold of the graveyard’s black gates, you don’t have to look back to know your inner circle are all behind you as you walk out of the black gates and following after you as you lead the way downtown.

When you arrive into the heart of town a few minutes later, you’re relieved to find the fog is not as dense as it was in the graveyard so you feel more at ease being back inside the city walls.

Or you had started to, at least, before Eren excuses himself halfway into the city, muttering something about meeting Isabel and Furlan at a pub east of town.

You exchange a meaningful look with Sasha when he does and she wastes no time in subtly following after him. You may have accepted to let Eren get close, but that by no means meant you trusted him. You weren’t that stupid.

As Sasha follows after Eren east of town, you and your cadre veer down north in the direction of the Red Rose. It’s already sometime past three in the afternoon, but the light mist and dark clouds keeping the sun at bay make the day seem later than it actually is. Still, your cadre need some cheering up after such a bleak afternoon spent at the cemetery so the Red Rose is the best you can offer them.

You’re all having drinks, seated in your usual spots at the back of the pub, waiting for the food you ordered for dinner to arrive, when something crashes through the window and lands a mere five feet away from you.

In the two and a half seconds it takes you to identify the bulbous shape that’s landed in the center of the pub, Connie shouts “Grenade!” and everyone runs to take cover. From your peripherals you catch Jean lunging for you protectively, but before he can reach you, the grenade goes off and the explosion that follows throws you and everyone within close proximity of it into the air.

You land across the room and crash violently against a wooden table that knocks the wind out of you as it breaks under you from the impact. Two more explosions are heard nearby and the pub goes up in flames, catching fire and spreading fast around you and devouring everything in its wake without mercy.

Panic and chaos swirls around you while bright, scorching flames dance at your feet, inching nearer. And yet, despite all this, you continue to lie on the floor, as if caught in a daze, struggling to grapple with the reality of the situation.

Was this really happening right now? Or was it all a dream? Could this just be another hallucination conjured up by your demons to mess with you? You don’t want to believe your enemies could have outplayed you, but there’s really no denying it right now.

This is real. This is happening. Your enemies have made their move.

The Red Rose was under attack.

Without waiting for him to reply back, you commence up the stairs to the manor, ready to get this over with. But Levi easily catches up to you and takes his place at your right, hooking your waist with an arm to secure you back at his side.

“Don’t stray,” he hisses at you in warning, taking the lead up the stairs. “We’re here together, love. Remember that.”

You tsk irritably. “So I’m on a leash now?”

Levi clenches his jaw beside you as you reach the front of the stairs. “If that’s what being engaged to me feels like to you,” he says bitterly, “then yes.”

You glower at him. “That’s not what I meant,” you say crossly, even though you still feel a pang guilty that he took it that way.

But Levi is no longer paying attention to you. He’s noticed someone up ahead that’s made him go tense beside you. Before you can follow his gaze, Levi subtly steps in front of you, forcing you to come to a stop before him. He leans in, making it appear like he’s kissing you on the forehead affectionately—which he is—but he’s also muttering to you under his breath.

“The Commanding Chief of Police is coming this way,” he informs you tersely. “For your father’s sake, love, do play nicely.”

Sure enough, as Levi steps away, you see a bald man with a structured build in a forest green uniform and wearing a matching colored hat making his way towards you. He has gold, hazel eyes and a distinguished mustache, with light skin and notable wrinkles under his eyes.

Your jaw tightens at the sight of him. **

Dot Pixis. Erwin Smith’s superior.

You’d never met the chief of police in person, but you knew of him. The highest commanding officer of Paradis with over thirty years of experience under his belt. Master tactician, sharp as a fox. There is no one else more qualified to look over this rich-infested district than Pixis. Nor is there anyone more capable of tearing your father down, if given the chance.

This very fact puts you on edge. Levi senses it and rests his hand at the small of your back, subtly reminding you of his presence at your side and telling your body to relax. That you are not here to threaten. Or attack. You’re here to play a part, and you must act it well. So whether you like it or not, the curtains have been drawn; it’s time to act.

Squaring your shoulders back, you straighten and force your sharp, siren gaze to soften. By the time Pixis comes to stands before you, a coy, welcoming smile curves your lips.

“Mr. Ackerman!” the old man says to Levi in greeting. “Is this beautiful young lady who I think it is?”

Levi gives him a small smile in confirmation. “Commander.” He then gestures to you with an open hand. “I’d like to present to you my fiancée, Anya Ymir.”

You automatically offer Pixis a gloved hand for him to take and you try not to recoil when he takes it and bows his head down to kiss it out of chivalry.

“Dot Pixis,” he tells you. “At your service, my lady.”

“It is an honor to meet you, sir,” you muster out politely. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And I of you. Truthfully, I’m surprised your father and fiancé even allowed you to grace us with your presence this evening.” Pixis turns to Levi. “To what do we owe such a pleasure?”

Levi opens his mouth to speak but he gets cut off by a deep voice behind you.

“You’ll have to forgive me for that, Commander.”

You and Levi turn simultaneously to find your father walking up the last set of stairs in your direction, looking as confident and powerful as ever in a dark tailored tux, black collared dress shirt, and black patent shoes. The proud look on his face as he takes in your attire before resting on your mother’s necklace with a smile of approval has you smothering down a smirk, but he’s easily boosted your confidence tenfold.

Your eyes then slide over to his right, to where Eren follows closely behind him. He’s wearing a similar dark tailored tuxedo over a white button up shirt and bow tie like Levi, but you’ve never seen this look on Eren before and you can’t deny that he looks all the more handsome in it.

At the sight of you, Eren halts in surprise, looking absolutely enthralled by you.

You swallow nervously, trying to steel yourself against the heat of his gaze. Because you shouldn’t care how he looks at you. You shouldn’t care that he’s looking at you with those heavenly green eyes of his like you’re the only person in the room, like you’re the only one that matters—but you do. You can’t help it. And you hate yourself sick for it, because of course, none of this goes unnoticed by Levi.

Your fiancé responds by wrapping his hand around your waist possessively to pull you closer to him, causing you to rest a hand against his chest to keep you balanced from the sudden shift. Eren gets the hint and hastily looks away, swallowing down the agony from having to see you at Levi’s side and being reminded that you’re already well spoken for.

Eren’s pained expression gives you an uncomfortable tightness in your chest, but the feeling quickly passes as Ymir draws your attention back to Pixis by coming to stand beside you to face the chief together.

“But as my one and only child,” Ymir continues to say coolly, “Anya is very precious to me. I can’t have her in the company of just anyone. As I’m sure you understand—” Ymir gestures towards Pixis with a raised brow “—being a father and… grandfather now, I believe?”

Pixis gives your father an even smile. “A baby boy, yes.”

Ymir smiles, not missing a beat. “Congratulations. I’m sure your son and his wife are overjoyed with the newest addition to the family. Please, do give them my regards.”

You study your father’s interaction with Pixis closely. As polite and civil as this conversation sounds between Pixis and your father, there’s an unspoken message being sent between them with this particular exchange of information.

I can get my hands on your own, Ymir’s icy blue eyes seem to say to Pixis, just as easily as you can get your hands on mine.

Pixis’ tone is measured as he replies, “I will be sure to let them know.”

Ymir nods. “Good man. Now if you’ll excuse us.” Your father turns to you and offers his left arm for you to take. “There’s a handful of people I need to introduce my daughter to this evening.” Ymir kisses you on the crown of your head. “Come along, sweetheart.”

Levi is forced to release you from his hold and step back as you reach out to link your arm with your father’s instead.

Pixis smiles. “Of course. Enjoy your evening.” He steps back and waves you all forward, removing his hat and bowing his head respectfully as Ymir begins to guide you away towards the manor to join the rest of the guests inside. “My men and I will be patrolling the area,” Pixis adds on as you go. “If there is any trouble, I assure you we will do everything in our power to make sure the ones responsible are held accountable for their crimes. Everyone’s safety this evening is our number one priority.”

You and Levi come to a halt the same moment Ymir does, having heard the underlying threat in the Commander’s words.

When you glance over your shoulder you find Pixis fixing you all with a knowing look and you watch your father closely beside you, awaiting for his next move. But there’s an easy, carefree smile on Ymir’s face as he glances over his shoulder to Pixis.

“And we thank you for your service, Commander,” Ymir replies back mildly before resuming the way into the manor with you and Levi at his side, Eren trailing close behind.

“He just threatened us,” you hiss at your father through gritted teeth, struggling to hold down your anger.

“And he certainly won’t be the last,” Ymir assures you dismissively as he guides you past the entrance hall and into the ballroom where all the guests are gathered.

You want to say more but the elegance and splendor of the ballroom before you distracts you completely. The room itself spans over seventy meters long and is adorned with colossal arched mirrors opposite various windows that overlook the gardens outside. Gilded ceilings and statues border its marble walls while dazzling glass chandeliers hang from the vaulted, ornately painted ceiling depicting the history of Paradis and the monarchy’s illustrious rule.

The glorious moment, however, is short lived.

The second you and your party walk into the room, heads turn. Your fingers naturally curl tightly against the fabric of your father’s sleeve, seeking comfort and trying to remain as poise as possible despite your uneasiness.

It’s not that you’re not used to the attention. In fact, you normally relish on having this kind of effect on people with your mere presence, but the look on these peoples faces isn’t one of fear or wariness, like you’re so used to eliciting. This crowd has a look of unmasked scrutiny and contempt that sets your teeth on edge.

Your father, however, pays them no heed and continues to parade you across the room with the same air of authority and confidence he always carries, letting the crowd part in half for him like they always do.

That’s when the reality of where you are really sinks in.

Being the capital city of Paradis, Mitras is home to the king of Paradis and his nobles. You shouldn’t be surprised by the amount of lords and ladies present. Of all the government officials and powerful businessman, both domestically and abroad, mingling freely under the same roof as you. But you are. Which is why you’re thankful it’s your father standing beside you right now because some of that confidence manages to rub off on you, and you will yourself to replicate his arrogance, even if its nothing more than a ruse. Because these are the kind of powerhouse individuals your father is after. It’s why he chose to reside here along with them instead of back with you in the Founding Sector. And why he’s got that hungry look in his eyes as he takes in the crowded room, like a boy in a candy store ready to dig in and take his fill.

Power calls to power, after all.

Halfway across the room, a small middle-aged woman dressed in a fine silk kimono stops your father to greet him. She’s got small facial features, thin eyebrows, and black hair neatly kept in a bun. Ymir kisses her offering hand politely and introduces her to you as Kiyomi Azumabito, an international ambassador from a small, independent country called Hizaru.

As Ymir and Kiyomi exchange pleasantries, you spot Furlan and Isabel amongst the butlers, serving guests drinks and strange-looking delicacies. You glance over at Levi hovering behind you who has noticed them as well but gives no sign of recognition in his deadpan gaze — not that there would be when Furlan and Isabel are clearly meant to be undercover.

While one of these house butlers passes by, you swipe a glass of champagne from his serving tray and swallow it down in one go. Ymir doesn’t notice but Levi and Eren do and you sense their judgmental eyes on you from behind.

You blatantly ignore them.

As another butler passes by, you discard the empty one on his tray in lieu of a full one, but Levi snatches it before you can take it. You don’t have time to reach out for another because Levi quickly ushers the butler away.

You frown at him for doing this but he nods to your right and you reluctantly follow his gaze. A short, overweight nobleman with a round face, short black hair, and a light mustache is making his way over to your group with a wide and excited smile on his face.

Your father notices him too. “Lord Reiss!”

Ymir greets the high lord with a firm shake of the hand before beckoning you forward to greet the host of tonight’s event. When your father informs him of your engagement to Levi, Lord Reiss frowns and takes your left hand to inspect it.

“Is she, now? Well, where’s the ring?!” He then winks at you and leans in close for you and your father to hear. “You have been hiding her from the world too long, Ymir. You know, the king is in search of a bride for his oldest son and heir. I have no daughter of my own or I would have sent her to court long ago. But you, my friend, are blessed with a golden opportunity!”

You tense as Lord Reiss’ gaze falls to you meaningfully, making your eyes narrow suspiciously.

Is he…mocking you?

You, a girl with no real title, winning over a crown prince? You nearly laugh out loud at the notion, but Lord Reiss speaks with assertiveness as he directs his next words to your father.

“If you desire,” he offers rather slyly, “I can request an audience for her with the king.” He shrugs. “And who knows? If such a union were to come to fruition, I’m sure we can find a way for you to repay me the small favor.” Lord Reiss throws you a nefarious grin. “Though I’m sure she’ll do well in court. They value beauty above all else, and beauty like hers is fit for a queen. She was born to rule.”

Ymir smirks proudly. “She was born to rule indeed.”

You stare at your father in disbelief. Were you hearing this correctly? Is this why your father wanted you present at this event? To catch the attention of the royal court’s influences?

You turn to Levi behind you, waiting for his opposition. Him and Eren were close enough to hear the conversation despite Lord Reiss trying to exclude them from it so you know he’s heard everything. But Levi’s grey eyes are blank and void of emotion. Unlike Eren—who looks horrified by the idea of you marrying into the royal family—the only sign that tells you Levi’s remotely bothered by this is the tightening of his jaw and the faint traces of a scowl across his face.

Still, he makes no move of interfering.

And you don’t understand why.

“We’ll discuss this further another time. I’ll be in touch,” Lord Reiss says, clapping your father on the shoulder with finality before stepping away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to the rest of my guests. But please, make yourselves at home and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Your gloved hands curl into fists as you watch the noble go. You wait until Lord Reiss disappears amongst the crowd before turning to your father with a scowl.

“There will be no future talks of this, Father,” you tell him matter-of-factly. “I suggest you make that clear to him before this goes completely over his head and he tries to—”

“Silence.” Ymir commands roughly under his breath, sharply cutting you off while his eyes remain fixed on the people nearby. “We will not speak of this here.”

“There is nothing TO talk about!”

“Enough!” Ymir growls impatiently. “This is no place for one of your tantrums.”

You turn to your fiancé for help. “Levi!”

But Levi averts your gaze, quiet. Unwilling to speak against your father. And the betrayal hits you like a hard kick to the stomach.

You stumble back, feeling nauseous. Would Levi really stand aside and allow you to marry someone else if it meant respecting your father’s wishes?

You shake your head.

Fuck.

This.

You turn to leave, blinking back the tears welling in your eyes. But before you can take more then a couple steps, Ymir snatches you by the wrist and anchors you in place. “Do not forget why you are here,” he hisses in your ear. “Must I remind you what you stand to lose if you disobey me?”

You’re about to retaliate when someone calls for your father over his shoulder, drawing his attention away from you. As Ymir turns to face them, you catch a glimpse of a man with receding gray hair in a well decorated military uniform and a refined, middle aged woman at his side.

“General Zackly,” Ymir says, greeting the military official with a respectful handshake and the woman beside him with a kiss on the hand. “My lady.”

You raise an eyebrow at the military name, your interest momentarily peaked. General Darius Zackly was a name you’ve heard quite often and one who plays an essential role in your father’s plans regarding the expansion of his manufacturing business. Armin had once predicted that the threat of war would aid in your father’s ambitions to supply and manufacture weapons for the military, and based on the way the general looks so pleased to see Ymir, Armin was right.

Your father then turns to you with a smile so charming and radiant, you’re briefly reminded of why it’s so easy for people to get so taken with your father and want to say yes to him for everything.

Not that it works on you, of course. You remain every bit upset.

As Ymir introduces you to the general and his wife, Lady Irene, you take in the general’s sunken and tired-looking eyes. He wears glasses and has noticeable wrinkles on his face, as well as a gray scruffy-looking full beard and mustache. Not to mention he is also rather short for a man of such high status and power. He barely reaches your father’s shoulders, but that doesn’t seem to deter the man’s confidence or authority. You overhear Zackly asking your father about the progress of a shipment but you can’t really focus on the details because you’re still reeling from your previous encounter with Lord Reiss.

Zackly’s wife notices how flushed your cheeks are and looks to you with concern.

“Darling, are you alright?” She waves her hand in front of you like a fan to provide you with some air. “Do you need to lie down for a minute?”

Your eyes dart over to your father who watches you closely as all attention is drawn to you. “I’m alright,” you reply to her politely. “Thank you, though.”

“Are you sure?” Lady Irene smiles sweetly. “We can leave these men here to talk business while us ladies explore the gardens and get some fresh air.” She begins to lead you away. “Is this your first—?”

But your father takes your arm and holds you back, preventing Lady Irene from taking you anywhere. “My Lady,” he intervenes politely. “Thank you for your concern, but she is perfectly alright here with me.” He nods at Zackly. “General, I’ll keep you posted. Please excuse us.” Ymir’s hold on you never eases up as he ushers you forward. “Come along, sweetheart.”

You try fighting against your father’s iron-like grip as soon as he puts some space between you and the Zackly’s. “You can’t keep treating me like this!” you argue resentfully. “I’m not a child anymore!”

“I will stop treating you like a child when you stop acting like one.”

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to stifle down your indignation as Ymir introduces you to another nobleman shortly after. But the most you can muster is a false smile before turning away, losing interest and not caring how rude it might appear to everyone around you.

You’re not used to entertaining such company as your father is, after all. The last time you ever attended one of these social gatherings was when you were twelve—when you realized you didn’t want to take part in such insufferable displays of dominance and frivolous activity. Your father had acceded to your wishes then. Had never thought it necessary for you to join him because it had never been in the cards for you.

So why was he all of a sudden changing the layout of the game?

Your father was an ambitious man, yes. But the crown?

Impossible.

It was beyond reach. There’s no way the Ymir clan could ever attain such level of power.

Except…

Your father has risen higher than any man of his background ever could. And you fear how long he’s had this idea brewing in his head. When exactly had it stopped being a mere pipe dream for him and become something more tangible?

Lord Tybur, an influential and powerful high lord from Marley, is the last person you stomach meeting tonight before you decide you’ve had enough.

You know your father’s guards are most likely on standby near the main entrance and will escort you back inside if they see you step out. And there’s no way of going out back through the servant’s doorway when Isabel and Furlan are annoyingly stationed. So you’ll have to improvise.

Taking advantage of the fact that your father has lowered his guard around you after playing docile around him for a while, and with Levi preoccupied with another nobleman, you turn on your heels without warning in search of an exit.

Ymir promptly reaches out to pull you back the second you do and when he fails, Levi rushes forward. Eren is the only one smart enough not to try.

“Anya!” Levi snarls when you roughly yank your wrist out of his grip and storm off.

You flip him off without looking back, swiping a glass of champagne from a butler walking by in the process. You down the drink in one go, ignoring all the hypercritical eyes and ears in the room as you do.

You’re furious and you’re hurt as it is. With your father, with Levi, with the world. You couldn’t care less about anything else.

Eventually you meander your way through a set of double doors leading out into a patio overlooking the garden.

Lacking a coat, the brisk November air slices through you like a freshly open wound as you step out into the night. You’re too emotionally unhinged to let it deter you though as you cut across the open area in search of a means to escape from this hellhole.

There’s a few guests scattered around the garden, taking leisurely strolls with their partners. Many of them begin to greet you as they see you approach but stop halfway when they notice the murderous look in your eyes.

You’re halfway through sweeping the area when you hear the familiar apprehensive footsteps behind you.

“There’s no way out through here, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Eren warns gently against the darkness of the night. “It’s gated all around.”

You halt in your tracks.

To be honest, you knew of this fact way before you’d even tried to break away from your father’s side. The moment you stepped foot inside this manor was you submitting to this truth, but hearing Eren say it depresses the hell out of you. And just for a moment, because it’s just him and this whole evening has been mercilessly wearing you down, you let your walls down.

You turn to him, your eyes pleading. “I need to get out of here,” you whisper desperately. “Please, get me out of here.”

Eren’s expression crumbles at the unsteadiness in your voice, at the frailness. Without hesitation, he moves towards you, ready to do as you ask.

Until Levi’s deep and sharp voice cuts through the night behind Eren, startling you both and making Eren freeze in place.

“I suggest you run off and tell Ymir we’ve located his daughter,” Levi warns Eren, coming to stand into view a few feet away from him. “Before you do something you will undoubtedly regret.”

Eren has his back to Levi but you know he can sense your fiancé’s glare radiating behind him, letting you know Levi had overheard you talking to him. Still, much to his credit, Eren looks at you with a torn expression, not wanting to leave you alone with Levi.

But reality ultimately sinks in for him and Eren’s shoulders begin to sag in defeat. You shake your head at him when this happens, silently begging him not to listen to your fiancé, wanting Eren to take you with him instead.

“Now,” Levi barks out impatiently when Eren lingers too long.

Eren frowns at Levi’s command but treats his departure like he were ripping off a band aid. Eyes shut regretfully, Eren hastily turns on his heels and forces himself to walk away from you in search of your father. He never once looks back.

Levi‘s eyes follow after Eren suspiciously as he walks past him before his deadpan gaze jumps back to you. “You were warned against acting out tonight,” he grits out, cutting the space between you. “How many times did I tell you to —”

You roll your eyes and turn to walk away before he can reach you. “Fuck off.”

Levi growls. “Now is not the time to act like a bloody brat!” He rushes after you before you can go deeper into the gardens. “Anya!” He reaches for your arm to make you stop, but you whirl on him before he can get a good grip.

“How long have you known?” you demand from him viciously, forcing him to draw back as you advance on him instead. “Just answer me that. How long have you know?”

Levi’s frustration leaves him the moment he sees the hurt flash across your face as you look up at him expectantly, knowing what you’re referring to and are anxiously waiting for an answer.

“I swear this is the first time I’m hearing of it.”

You shove at his chest with fists full of rage. “Liar!”

Levi flinches, hating that you don’t believe him. “I’m not lying!” He tries to reach out to you, trying to stop you from walking away from him, but there’s no pulling you back in at this point. You slip out of his hold and force him to stand by and watch as you walk around aimlessly in front of him, your eyes wide with hysteria.

“This has been the plan all along, hasn’t it?” you say with sudden realization, finally making sense of things. “Why he’s been prolonging our engagement. So he can marry me off to the crown.”

Levi shakes his head, pained. “That’s not true—”

“Maybe he’ll even get lucky and they’ll bestow him the title of Duke. Then he’ll be just like them right?” you sneer, pointing in the general vicinity of the Reiss manor somewhere to your right. “That’s what he wants, isn’t it?”

Levi takes a ginger step towards you. “Anya, lower your voice.”

You draw farther away. “Why should I?” you say even more loudly. “It’s a grand plan! Everyone should hear of it! ‘What a brilliant man!’ they’ll say. ‘He did really well for himself.’ He’ll be the prime example of what a middle class businessman can achieve, if they just work hard enough.” You laugh dryly. “Oh, I can just see it now. He’ll be eating it all up! With people marveling at his feet.” Your eyes sharpen as your gaze locks with his and you add in a tone laced with venom, “Just the way you do.”

Levi’s eyes narrow at the snide comment. “What are you talking about?”

You shrug. “You seem perfectly okay with this. And why shouldn’t you be? You’ll finally be free of me forever—”

“Don’t be absurd!” he snaps at you. “Of course I’m not okay with this! But you know as well as I do that Ymir needs more than just strong influences to make this happen.”

You bark out a laugh. “Are you serious? Look around you! My father’s network runs deeper than any ocean. It’s taken him years, but trust me, he’s got all the right friends in all the right places.” You resume your pacing. “Now it’s only a matter of time. Soon I’ll get married off to some pompous prince, get locked up in some golden royal cage so I can’t cause trouble for anyone. I’ll be nothing more than a pretty puppet with the hands of the royal court pulling my strings. They’ll keep me under their control, docile and complacent. When the old king dies, the country will have it’s new king and queen, and everyone will live happily ever after, right?”

Levi shakes his head, his jaw taut. “That’s not going to happen,” he insists through clenched teeth. “Ymir wouldn’t break off the engagement like this. He’s a man of his word.”

But even as he says this, Levi sounds uncertain. And for good reason.

You yourself would have thought that no matter how inclined your father seemed by the idea, he wouldn’t break the pact he sealed with the Ackerman clan years ago—out of gratitude and respect for his fallen friend. If he did, surely, the Ackerman clan would retaliate. They’re lethal regardless of the small numbers they have.

Except…

Ymir would have the royal crown supporting him. All his past crimes would be pardoned. And with the military after them, the Ackerman clan would be silenced indefinitely.

“You know him as well as I do, Levi,” you tell him flatly. “We know how his mind works and we know what he wants. And… we very well know the great lengths he’ll go to get it.”

Levi shakes his head. “You’re wrong. This is different.”

A flicker of annoyance flashes across your features by his stubbornness. “Levi, he’s going to break off this engagement.”

“No.”

“Whether you like it or not doesn’t matter. In the end, we’re nothing but pawns in this little game of his.”

“Is that what you think of yourself?” an approaching voice says in bewilderment. “A mere pawn?”

You look over Levi’s shoulder to find your father walking into the clearing before you, with Eren at his heels, avoiding your gaze.

“You were the one who had wanted to join in on this game of power and vengeance, darling,” Ymir points out almost mockingly. “So here I am, putting you on the playing field, as you wanted. And not just any piece. The most powerful playing piece on the board.”

You scowl, stalking towards him. “No. This is what you want. To build your legacy.”

“Yes,” Ymir replies back firmly. “And my legacy is you.”

You stop dead in your tracks, momentarily taken aback by his words. But just before they can mellow you over, you snap out of their hold with a shake of the head. You refuse to be so easily swayed.

“Then what of Levi?” you demand, gesturing to your fiancé standing across the clearing, watching your father with anticipation. “And the Ackermans? You would turn your back on them for power and glory?”

Ymir gives Levi a long, evaluating look before finally saying, “I will forever be in debt to the Ackerman clan. They are family.” Ymir then turns to you. “And we honor and value family and loyalty above all else, do we not? That will never change, no matter what happens. Understood?” He then extends a hand out for you to take. “Now come, I’ve saved the best of tonight for last.”

You turn to glance over at Levi warily, neither of you quite satisfied or certain of where this has left things in terms of the future. Ymir expects you to trust him and have you believe that he’s doing all this for your benefit, for the family’s benefit.

So why don’t you believe him?

—

On your way back to the manor, your father unbuttons his jacket and takes it off to drape it over your shoulders after hearing you sneeze just moments before. Whether he did this as a form of affection or because he’s trying to win you over is unclear to you, but you accept it all the same. Once bundled up, he resumes escorting you across the garden and up the stairs to the patio. Levi and Eren following suit.

As you arrive in front of the double doors leading back to the ballroom floor, you brace yourself, knowing you have no other choice but to get back in there.

Ymir notices this.

“You look just like your mother,” he says to you with as much casualness as if he were conversing about the weather. But when you look up at him, his eyes are soft and warm at the mention of your mother, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of the man he was before your mother died. His gaze is rueful as it then falls to the diamonds around your neck. “Wear them proudly.”

You eye him strangely. This is the second time tonight your father has complimented you so openly and you don’t know what to make of it.

Your father doesn’t notice your reaction though, and reaches out to open the door for you, waving you forward. The second you step back inside, you grimace internally as you’re immediately bombarded with the liveliness and bustling noise of the room. But the champagne in your system has worked its magic into your bloodstream. Your agitation has, for the most part, simmered down.

All that is left to be placated is your curiosity.

You glimpse over your shoulder at Eren walking behind you. His purpose here in particular. But given that oblivious expression on Eren’s face, it’s clear that even he doesn’t know as to why your father requested his presence here tonight.

So he does as you do now. Follow silently and without question as Ymir begins to lead you to the far back of the room and down a hallway to the right, away from the main event and its many guests. The hallway itself is adorned with random, overly-valued sculptures made of delicate marble. And you struggle keeping your intrusive thoughts from taking over as your fingers twitch with the desire to push one off its pedestal. For no reason in particular. Just to see what would happen.

But then your focus snaps back to attention as the door at the far end of the corridor opens.

A tall man with blue eyes and wearing circular glasses steps out of the room. He’s got shaggy blond hair and a matching mustache that connects down to his beard. He’s also got broad shoulders and a well-toned physique that can closely match your father’s.

You frown at him oddly. There’s something familiar about his face that jostles your memories. Which is strange because you're certain you've never seen this man before in your life.

As blondie spots your father coming down the hallway, a wide smile breaks across his face, his arms stretching out to welcome your father. “Well if it isn’t Thomas Ymir!”

Before your father can greet him in return, something shatters loudly behind you. You turn around the same moment Ymir and Levi do and find Eren with a pale and horrified look on his face.

Your eyes instantly widen as you realize why. Lying on the floor is one of the marble busts you all passed by moments before, now in pieces by his feet.

Levi pulls you back so you don’t step or slip on one of the shards scattered on the floor as you snicker in amusement. “Someone’s had a little too much to drink,” you tease Eren, thinking that might help him relax a bit since he continues to stand tense and frozen in place before you.

For a moment you think such behavior reasonable. He did just single handedly destroy a valuable work of art belonging to a very powerful high lord, after all. But at a closer look you realize his eyes are not drawn to the irreparably broken sculpture before him, but rather at the tall man in glasses down the hall facing your father.

Your voice seems to break Eren out of his paralysis though and he begins to draw back, excusing himself and mumbling something incoherent about informing someone about the broken mess. He then turns the corner and disappears from the hallway.

The second he does, Blondie bursts out laughing.

“Did you see his face?” he asks your father. “Young lad nearly pissed himself! Where did you find this guy? He looks hopeless!”

Ymir doesn’t join in on the jest, merely smiles politely at Blondie before replying, “He has his purposes.” Ymir then turns and beckons you to come forward so he can introduce you to him.

You sigh inwardly, but adhere to him all the same.

As it turns out, the guy’s name is Zeke Ksaver, one of your father’s business partners from Marley. And based on the traces of tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve and the thick gold ring he wears on his right index finger with an ape signet in the center, he’s none other than the crime lord of the Beast Sector in Marley. Not an enemy of your father’s per se, but a rival all the same.

“Ah, yes,” Zeke tells you after Ymir introduces you to him, “I’ve heard all about you.” There’s a dark gleam in his eye as he sizes you up and it rubs you the wrong way as he then adds, “What an absolutely stunning, murderous little thing you have here, Ymir.”

Levi growls lowly beside you, his radar going off as well. “Careful how you speak of her, Beast.”

The second he hears Levi, Zeke points at your fiancé excitedly. “The orphan! Yes? Levi Ackerman. Your skills and talent are quite admirable, son.” He extends a hand in front of him for Levi to shake in greeting, but Levi gives no signs of taking it.

This doesn’t faze Zeke in the least. Withdrawing his hand with a mere shrug, he bids your father farewell and takes his leave.

You scowl after him as he goes with your arms crossed over your chest.

Something was really off about that man. Of that much you were certain of. Your disgust only increases when Eren decides to return with the clean up crew just as Zeke is about to turn the corner out of the hallway. He pats Eren on the shoulder as he passes which makes Eren flinch and you catch his eyes flicker nervously in your direction.

You throw invisible daggers at the back of Zeke’s head with a glare. “You keep the most horrid for company, Father,” you remark, not bothering to hide the distaste from your voice.

“You’ve seen nothing yet, darling,” your father replies vaguely. “Now, come.” He turns towards the door Zeke came out of moments ago and reaches for the handle.

“What’s in there?” you ask.

“Unfinished business,” is all your father says.

—

You obediently follow your father inside with Levi close behind you. Eren trails in moments later after leaving the house staff to clean up after his mess. But after you realize the kind of room it is, you wonder if he’ll end up walking back out.

Ymir has led you into an entertainment room that consists of pool tables and other recreational activities for guests to utilize at their disposal during their stay.

You look around the room full of old men drinking and smoking and playing poker or throwing darts with a frown. “I don’t get it,” you say to your father. “Why are we here?”

Ymir gives you a crooked smile. “To deliver a message.”

You follow after him as he moves further into the room, scanning the crowd as he goes, clearly on the hunt for someone. You have no intel over who your father’s after, but you don’t really need it.

In a table at the far end of the room sit a couple of old geezers playing poker. One of them glances up from his cards and notices Ymir walking towards them. And when the old man's face turns sour, you know Ymir has located his target.

Ymir stops in front of his table, his hands in the pocket of his trousers, appearing calm and relaxed. “Lord Wald,” your father says, addressing the fat noble in the center of the table.

The noble in question is an overweight man with a round face and a balding head. He’s got wavy blond hair on the sides, gray eyes, and a blond mustache curled at the tips.

Lord Wald forces a smile. “Ah, Mr. Ymir. I’ve been meaning to ring you up. I’m afraid I have bad news.”

Many of his buddies beside him snicker at this which unfortunately only serves to boost Lord Wald’s confidence, mistakenly giving him the impression that because he’s with his rich and powerful pals right now, he’ll be safe from your father’s retaliation.

“We agreed to fifty thousand for completion of business,” Lord Wald says flippantly. “But my wife and I’ve had a bit of misfortune in the market exchange, you see.” He pushes a couple of chips from the center of the table in front of Ymir. “There’s twenty here. You’ll have to wait for the rest.”

You scoff in disbelief, your blood boiling at this dismissive treatment. As if your father were nothing more than some street dog willing to accept any form of food with an excited wag of a tail.

But Ymir doesn’t react to this news at all. It’s almost as if he’s been expecting to hear this, which catches the nobles at the table off guard when Ymir glances down at the chips on the table, but does not move to take it.

Ymir then begins to slowly circle the table the way you know predators circle their prey, all the while his voice remains pleasant and mild. “After my people completed their task, they collected all the photographs, letters, and cheques that were causing you concern. I now have them in a safe place.” After a meaningful beat, Ymir locks eyes with Lord Wald and adds with a tight smile, “For now.”

Lord Wald’s face turns scarlet red as the rest of the nobles turn to him curiously and with raised eyebrows.

You can’t help but smirk. Your father's voice never once rose as he spoke, but everyone had understood what Ymir had insinuated if Lord Wald didn’t do as your father says.

“On Monday, you will give me the fifty thousand we agreed upon,” Ymir says with finality. “In cash.”

But just as Ymir turns to leave, Lord Wald jumps out of his seat, flipping his chair out from under him and looking barking mad. “How the bloody hell did a man like you get into a position of trust?! In a place of power and privilege?!”

You react impulsively, stepping forward with hands curled into fists, ready to climb across the table and take a swing at the bastard. But Levi puts a hand in front of you in warning to keep you from interfering.

“A man like me?” Ymir repeats dryly. “A man like me?” Ymir steps forward and leans over the table separating him from Lord Wald, eyes piercing. “I’ve seen the photographs, my lord. Monday.”

—

Not long after this encounter, Ymir has Eren fetch for his coat, having completed his business for the night. Even as you all cut across the room to head out, Ymir retains that same charismatic presence about him as he says his farewells to his business partners and acquaintances.

All the while you remain livid.

Once you get a clear view of the door leading outside to the open air—to freedom—you walk out, not waiting for your coat or for your father to finish with his last parting wishes to Lord Reiss or whoever the fuck he’s saying goodbye to.

The second you’re out of the manor and on the curbside waiting for your car, the pent up frustration and emotions that had been building up inside you since the social event first started came rushing to the surface.

When Levi gets to you seconds later with your coat, you’re pacing back and forth, struggling to keep it down. “Fucking bastards,” you keep cursing out loud to no one in particular.

“Oi,” Levi warns, urging you to quiet down. He approaches you, trying to get you to put on your coat, but your skin is hot and burning with fury. You’re anything but cold.

As Ymir finally comes down the stairs of the manor to join you with Eren close behind, you can't do it anymore. You go off on him.

With lethal strides, you march up to your father until you stand face to face with him, startling Eren behind him with your intensity.

“Never in my life will you make me go through that again, understood?” you say through bared teeth. “Lock me up, disown me, I don’t fucking care. I refuse to be looked down upon like that again.”

“Anya, this is not the place for this,” Levi hisses in your ear, trying to pull you away from your father, but you roughly shove him aside. There’s no one out here right now except the four of you, but even if there were, you’re far from caring.

“How can you stand them?” you ask your father incredulously, pointing to the manor behind him. “They’re worse than us! Politicians, fucking lords and ladies. They’re all worse than us! But you want me to grovel at their feet like we’re somehow beneath them?”

Ymir offers you no reaction. He stands before you in that same relaxed manner he’s been in all night, looking down at you calmly, patiently, as if waiting for you to finish with your tantrum like any parent might do with their kid when they’re causing a scene in public.

This only pisses you off even more. You shove at his rock hard chest even though he hardly even moves. “Talk dammit! You saw the way they looked at us! No matter how legitimate we become, we will never be seen as their equals. Why can't you see that? Why do you insist on—”

Levi steps in. “That’s enough, Anya*.* Let’s go.”

Behind you, both your car and your father’s car have arrived and Levi starts to drag you to your car while you try and resist him.

“No, stop!” you cry out. “Let me go!”

“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder,” Levi warns impatiently, caging you in his arms from behind. But before Levi can attempt to shove you into your car, Ymir speaks, and you and Levi stop your wrestling.

“You’re right, Anya,” your father begins to say, moving slowly to the car parked behind yours. “We can’t change how they perceive us. We can only show them what we are capable of.”

You watch anxiously as his driver opens the door for him and your father steps inside. But he doesn’t enter fully. He keeps his right foot outside on the ground and rests a hand against the open car door in front of him to face you. “Perhaps our friend, Lord Wald, is in need of a little demonstration?” he says, throwing you a meaningful look. The small smile on his lips, encouraging. “Care to do the honors?”

You blink for a moment, confused and at a loss for words. Unsure of what to make of this. Was he saying what you think he was saying?

Unconsciously, your eyes slide over to Eren standing beside him. He is looking at you beseechingly, silently begging you not to do this. But then you recall the look of contempt and disrespect all of those nobles had casted in your direction at the sight of you. The way Lord Wald and his buddies snickered at your father, fully intent on making a fool out of him before your father had gone and given them a quick reality check.

Sasha’s scowl deepens. “My spies have told me there have been rumors going around the Colossus Sector. Of rebels trying to instigate an uprise against Armin’s leadership—people loyal to Bertholt’s family. Before we left, I confirmed this with Armin.” She steps forward and hands you a piece of paper while Jean and Connie exchange glances. “He gave me the names of the ones he suspects are leading the revolt.”

You take the paper from her and find two names written in Armin’s slanted handwriting. You read the names aloud. “Colt Grice and Marcel Galliard?”

Sasha nods grimly.

You recline back on the couch, cards still in your hand, and though you appear relaxed, your muscles are taut. You poke at the inside of your mouth with your tongue, annoyed. “My father knows about this?”

Sasha looks uneasy. “When Ymir questioned him about the rumors, Armin assured him there was nothing to worry about. That the situation had been handled.”

“But it hasn’t?”

Sasha remains silent.

You nod. “So he lied to my father.”

“Considering your current situation, Armin didn’t want to worsen your situation by telling your father just how actively his enemies are plotting his demise. But Armin thinks these loyalists will make their move soon and urges we be on high alert for any suspicious activity.”

“Annie and Reiner have been awfully quiet since Armin took over the Colossal sector,” Jean points out.

Sasha gives a small shake of her head. “There has been no evidence tying them to these rebel groups.”

“They were close allies to Berthold,”Jean argues back. “Do you really think they’d stand by and let him be humiliated and stripped of his power the way he was without doing something to avenge him?”

“Maybe it’s one of the other sectors allying against us?” Connie offers.

“Regardless of who else is behind it,” Sasha cuts in, arms crossed against her chest, “we have the beginnings of a rebellion in our hands. And Bertholdt’s loyalists are leading the charge. That much we know to be true.”

You rub your temples, fighting off a headache. You’re growing agitated so you reach for the bottle of scotch in front of you to pour yourself a glass.

“It is to be expected, isn’t it?” Connie says absentmindedly. “After the way their leader was treated.”

You down your drink in one swing. “No,” you correct harshly with a growl, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “This is what happens when we choose to let them live.”

If your father had just let you kill them all, this would have never happened.

“It was the only way to gain legitimate power over their territory,” Jean reminds you carefully, as if hearing your very thoughts.

You roll your eyes and toss the rest of your cards on the table in frustration, signaling the end of the game.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?” Connie asks. “They’re not stupid enough to step foot here.”

“Armin thinks they are,” Sasha tells him, “which is why he’s sent a warning.”

You rise to your feet, dropping your cigarette in the ashtray. “Then I trust you all to deal with them accordingly,” you say to them through gritted teeth, “before my father decides to lock me up in here for the rest of my life.”

You snatch the bottle on the table by its neck on your way out the door, needing to drown in your frustrations. Hating that you had to rely on others to dispatch your enemies for you while you were trapped in here like some domesticated animal incapable of surviving on its own out in the wild.

But the moment you pass Sasha at the door, she swiftly takes hold of the bottle in your hands, holding it hostage from you and keeping you in place. You frown at the intervention and when you try yanking it back, she gives you a knowing look.

“Fine!” you growl at her viciously, shoving the bottle at her chest. “Take it!” You wave your arms dramatically in the air, gesturing to your surroundings. “Take everything away while you’re at it! Everyone’s doing that already, right?”

You storm out of there and up the stairs to your room the way a child behaves when denied of her sweets, but Sasha, Jean, and Connie know this is more than some childish outburst or tantrum.

You don’t notice the pained look on their faces as they watch you walk away from them, but it’s there. Plain and visible to see. They hate seeing you this way. They know you’re hurting and lonely and struggling with the darkness threatening to consume you, but they have no power or say to alleviate your suffering. All they can do is watch over you helplessly and hope you don’t stray too far away from them they can no longer reach you.

—

Later that night, you’re taking out your frustrations in physical combat and trying to gain back some sense of control with Jean down in the basement. You’ve been at it for the past two hours without pause. You’re both tired and drenched in sweat but you haven’t called it quits yet and Jean knows how much you need this so he won’t stop until you do.

He’s holding a body pad in front of him to serve as your target and to shield him from your kicks and punches. You’re about to throw another series of hits his way when movement over your shoulder catches Jean’s attention. He straightens and bares his teeth, turning hostile.

“You,” Jean snarls over your shoulder in disgust.

Your back is to the door so you don’t see who it is that’s just walked in, but you know there’s only one person that can get Jean riled up that way. You let your fighting stance fall and turn to the door behind you to find Eren walking down the steps leading down the basement. Historia follows right after him, both of them still in their office attire.

Eren’s bright green eyes are blazing and firmly locked on you as he cuts across the room to confront you, looking every bit upset.

“You’re being targeted?” Eren asks you angrily. “You knew about this and you still left last night?”

A muscle in your jaw twitches at the bold accusation, very much aware of Jean’s presence behind you. You’re not facing him but you can imagine the level of shock on his face at Eren’s words.

“He was with you last night?” Jean demands. There’s a hint of jealousy in his voice mixed with outrage at hearing how you let Eren accompany you rather than someone from your inner circle. But instead of answering him, you throw an accusatory glare at Historia who stands beside Eren like some mother hen guarding over her chick despite him towering over her. Connie must have told her about Armin’s warning regarding Bertholdt’s loyalists and for some reason found the need to tell Eren about it.

Yet the girl doesn’t look as apologetic as she should.

“If Eren’s the only one Ymir is allowing to be around you,” Historia reasons with you, “he deserves to know.”

You scoff dismissively. “What good is he going to do? He needs more saving than I do.”

Eren’s cheeks flush at the memory of what happened at the train station the night before and he averts your gaze, ashamed.

You smirk, his reaction proving your point, and you turn away to practice your knife throwing with the cardboard shooting target stationed at the back of the room, thinking you’ve put an end to this conversation.

But Historia is quick to follow after you, not at all done with you yet.

“So train him,” she urges as you collect some of your favorite daggers from where you had laid them out on a nearby table with the rest of your weapons and holsters. “There’s no harm in him learning how to fight.”

You ignore her as she continues to talk, taking aim and releasing a few of your blades at the intended target in front of you, each of your daggers hitting home with deadly precision and landing with a sharp thud.

“If you give him a gun and some time to practice he—”

“Enough Historia!” you cut off, whirling on her and slicing the air between you with the remaining dagger in your hand to silence her.

She backs away, unnerved by the weapon in your hand as you take a menacing step towards her. “Despite what you like to believe, I am not running some damn charity ward. If I invest my time in someone, it’s because they have something worth investing.” You point to Eren behind her with the blade in your hand. “And he has neither the strength, the skillsets—least of all the spine—needed to survive here. You want to hand him a gun to play with? Be my guest. But when it comes down to it, he will never have what it takes to pull the trigger.” Your eyes lock with Eren. “No amount of training or fighting will change that.”

Losing your desire to continue training, you leave for the door, clutching the blade tightly in your hand to keep you from completely losing it as you roughly brush past Eren and Historia.

Eren curls his hands into fists and grits out quietly, “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

You stop in your tracks, unable to let this slide. “Oh, you’ve shown me exactly what you’re capable of,” you drawl out dryly, turning on your heels to face him again. “And you, Eren Yeager, really don’t want to die.”

Eren lowers his gaze, flexing his jaw, unable to deny the way he cowered against death the night before.

“Not that there’s any shame in that,” you add with a shrug. “All men fear dying, especially when death is staring you in the face. You reacted just as any normally sane human-being would react.”

Anger quickly replaces Eren’s shame as his eyes snap to you. “And what of your reaction? Why put yourself in that position at all? To prove a point? Your father trusts me to keep you out of—”

“My father?!” you snarl incredulously, annoyed by his own ignorance. “Have you not realized it yet?” Your head tilts to the side as you commence to approach him. “The sole reason my father assigned you to me wasn’t because you asked him to. Or because he saw some godly potential in you.” Eren frowns as you draw nearer, subtly noting how violently you’re swinging the blade in your hand as you speak. “Make no mistake. My father wants you dead. If he agreed to your request, it was to punish me. Because he thinks you have some hold over me.”

Eren braces himself as you come to stand before him with eyes cold and hard as stone. “But he miscalculated. Whether you live or die makes no difference to me.”

Fighting back a flinch, Eren forces himself to swallow down your words.

Historia, on the other hand, is a different matter. “So you’re just going to let him die out of spite?” she asks in disapproval, unable to tamper that caring nature of hers. “He’s risking his life for you! The least you could do is provide him with the means to survive.”

You flash her a crooked smile. “OR I could just kill him now. Why prolong the inevitable, right? We all know his number was up the day he crossed my path anyway.”

Historia glowers at the suggestion, hating that you were mocking her, before exhaling sharply, her fists still curled tightly at her side.

“Fine,” she hisses through her teeth. Without warning, she turns on her heels and moves with fierce strides towards the armory room in the back of the training room. “If you won’t train him, then I will.”

But the dagger is out of your hands and strikes the wooden door of the armory across the room like lightning, making Historia freeze in place as it lands inches away from the side of her head.

“No,” you tell her firmly. “You will not.”

Eren whirls at you, eyes wide with alarm, but you ignore him as your gaze slides over to Jean in warning.

“None of you will,” you say to him. “Is that understood?”

Historia turns, aghast. “Then you’ve sentenced him to die!”

You throw Eren a meaningful look, reminding him that you had given him the chance to leave last night and he refused to take it. “He has done that himself.”

“To protect you!” Historia cries out, moving towards you, but Eren quickly steps in her path, holding her back.

“Historia, don’t,” you hear him urge, wanting to calm her down. “Please, stop. It’s okay.”

You watch her struggle in Eren’s arms with a look of disgust. “You have heart, Historia—I’m painfully aware of that,” you say, taking a few steps forward to look down on her. “And I tolerate it because you are useful to me and my father. But if you don’t like how I run things, by all means.” You point to the stairs leading out of the room. “There’s the door. Leave.”

Historia stumbles back, stricken. Your threat hits home, making her look over to Eren helplessly because as much as she wants to help Eren she won’t go against you. She feels too indebted to you for all you’ve done for her to try.

Just then, the door to the basement opens and Levi comes walking down the stairs. Alone. He’s still got his dark coat and gloves on which means he’s come straight from dealing with underground business. Still, he doesn’t look hurt or covered in blood so whatever type of work it had been was done quickly and clean.

His deadpan gaze does a quick survey of the people in the room before resting his grey eyes on you.

“We need to talk,” is all he says to you, but based on that dark look on his face, you’re sure as hell not going to like it.

Jean and Historia get the hint and start to leave. Eren starts to follow right after but Levi throws a hand over Eren’s chest and shoves him back.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” Levi growls at him.

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms over your chest while Eren, Historia, and Jean all frown in confusion. But Eren does as he’s told and stays put while Historia and Jean leave the basement to give you all some privacy.

When its just the three of you, Levi exhales sharply. “Lord Reiss is hosting a charity event this weekend,” he begins to inform you slowly, “and your father has been invited to attend. He expects you, me, and Eren to join him—”

You let out a sharp laugh and walk away before he can even finish his sentence. “Like hell.” Just the idea of being trapped in the same room as those duplicitous, stuck up fiends with their false smiles and empty laughs was suffocating enough.

“Anya,” Levi chides behind you.

“No.”

“This isn’t a request.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going.”

“You will if you want him to terminate your confinement.”

You stop dead in your tracks, hands curling into fists at your side. Annoyed that your father knew you wouldn’t be able to turn away from this.

“He doesn’t need me there,” you insist through clenched teeth, keeping your back to him. “You’re his business partner, not me,” you add petulantly, glowering at him over your shoulder before resuming your exit. “You deal with them.”

“You’re his daughter and heir,” Levi counters. “He needs you there at his side, to support him.”

You turn on your heels to face him. “Support him with what?” you demand. “He knows I detest the whole lot of them. I have no reason for being there…” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow, offering him a sly grin. “Unless he wants me to burn the place to the ground? If so, I’ll gladly help him with that.”

Levi replies to you with a dark smile of his own. “Darling, if you so much as threaten anyone or give off the slightest impression of looking someone the wrong way, your father will not hesitate to take you back to the countryside. And I, for one, will do nothing to stop him.”

“Do it and you’ll be dragging my dead corpse back with you,” you snarl, eyes unyielding. You refuse to step foot in that cursed place for as long as you live.

Levi growls in distaste at your threat. “Then do as you’re told.”

Before you can counter back, Levi turns to Eren. “As for you. Despite my deep opposition, Ymir insists on keeping you as part of the company.” He shoves a manila envelope at Eren’s chest for him to take. “You have until the night of the event to familiarize yourself with the guest list and the names of the ones highlighted. If you’re as good as they claim, you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. So find yourself a suit worthy for the night. This is a black-tie event, so play the part and act like you belong there.” Levi’s sharp gaze cuts to you and adds, “Both of you.”

You answer him by flipping him off and walking away.

—

On the night of the charity event, you make your way out of your room with a deep sense of unease nestled in your chest.

There’s a reason your father wants you present at this event — it can’t be solely just to torture you. But if you don’t see this through, as your father evidently wants you to, you won’t ever know why. So you force yourself down the hall towards the staircase whilst ignoring the way your insides burn at the thought of what this night might entail.

As you reach the head of the stairs, you find Levi waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase looking aloof and dangerous as always. But bloody hell, even from this distance he looks more handsome and more human than you’ve ever seen him. And you don’t think its possible but you feel yourself falling even more in love with him.

Your fiancé wears a finely tailored black tux over a white dress shirt that makes him appear sharp and elegant. Nothing like the dark tailored suits he usually wears when out in the field that give him a far more lethal, rugged, and intimidating appearance. His dark curtained hair that usually hangs over his eyes is parted to the side and combed back, giving him a more boyish, princely appearance that painfully reminds you of when he was a boy…Perhaps because his mother used to style his hair in that same manner. The bow tie pinned at his collar doesn’t help in the least.

You would have stood there and admired him all night long, but your black heels announce Levi of your presence at the top of the stairs and he swiftly turns to you in attention, ready to escort you to Lord Reiss’ estate—not only as his fiancée but as the daughter and heir to one of the most highly influential businessman of his time, Thomas Ymir.

But Levi is not prepared by what he sees before him.

As a testament of your father’s well-established nobility, you wear a strapless, skin tight black dress with a high molded waist-line and elbow length black gloves, all made of the finest material. Your long hair is held up with hairpins sharp enough to stab a man’s arteries and fashioned in a loose up-do with a few stray strands left at the front to frame your face. But underneath, strapped to your thighs and tucked inside your gloves, are daggers of all forms, sharp enough to pierce a man’s heart.

The second Levi catches sight of you, he swallows heavily, looking stunned and completely mesmerized. Yet it’s the way he watches you descend down the stairs, eyes running down the length of your figure that makes your stomach twist with longing. And you suddenly think, maybe this night is worth all the hassle, if it means him looking at you the way he does now. Like you’re the most beautiful creature he has ever seen and he can’t afford to look away.

You smirk in spite of yourself.

“Are you impressed, my lord?” you ask as he offers his hand for you to take the minute you arrive at the foot of the stairs.

His eyes drop down to your tinted, blood red lips as you speak. They linger there as he replies softly, “I’m always impressed by you.”

He leans forward, aching for a taste of you, but despite your attraction to him, you’re still upset with him for making you come to this event with him. Before he can touch his lips with yours, you pointedly turn away. This rewards you with a resentful smile from him, but he gets the message and doesn’t try again.

That’s when you notice he’s holding something in his other hand. A medium sized, dark navy, velvet jewelry box. You raise an eyebrow. “Is that meant to impress me?”

His eyes flicker to where your attention is drawn and he straightens, attempting to recover from your teasing. He opens the box to reveal what looks like a fifty something carat worth diamond necklace and matching earrings.

“A gift,” Levi explains. “From your father.”

You stare at it for a moment, breath-taken. But its beauty is not what has your heart caught in your throat. You feel Levi take your hand and walk you over to the closest mirror in the foyer, wanting you to see how it looks on you.

As you stand in front of the oval shaped mirror, you watch through your reflection as Levi removes the necklace first from out of the box and clasp it securely around your neck. You feel the coldness of the stones against your skin instantly but it brings you a strange sense of comfort. Makes their existence all the more real.

“He wishes for you to wear it tonight,” you hear Levi say beside you, studying your reaction closely in the mirror. “He says it was—”

“My mothers,” you finish distantly, touching the stones around your neck and admiring the way the diamonds sparkle against the light of the hallway like newly dead stars in the night sky.

Your eyes glisten with nostalgia as you remember of the times you saw her wear it for your father. The most expensive, luxurious thing he first bought your mother after Ymir & Co became legalized.

“He’s really trying to make a statement with this, isn’t he?” you say as a means to break out of your reminiscing. “Pulling out something so valuable.” You reach for the diamond earrings still in the jewelry box and put them on yourself. “What is this all even worth, like 80k?”

Levi chuckles, placing the empty jewelry box on the console under the mirror. “You’re worth much more than that, love.”

You turn to face him with a raised eyebrow, confused.

“Darling,” he tells you, raising a hand to caress your cheek tenderly, “his most prized possession isn’t something so easily replaceable. What he values most is you.”

There’s an intensity in his gaze as he says this that lets you know he isn’t just speaking for your father anymore, but for himself. And you might believe it, if either one of them was the least bit capable of expressing it on their own.

You release him soon after — though none too gently — and leave him behind you to recover behind the oak tree without sparing him a second glance, unwilling to see the kind of expression written on his face after attacking him in such a way.

Once close enough to the bridge, you wave to the blond hair boy before you with Bear prominently in your arms to get his attention. When Cas spots you, his face lights up with joy and quickly rushes over to greet you; his trust in you undeniable.

—

After Cas leaves the park a little while later, Bear is ready for a well deserved nap after entertaining the boy for you without pause. Nestled in your arms, you transfer him over to your canvas bag for him to sleep as you make your way back to where you left Eren last. He waits for you by the oak tree with a sullen look on his face, a hand on the shoulder belonging to the arm you twisted. But you know that’s not the main reason for the grim expression on his face.

From this distance, Eren stood close enough to watch you interact with the boy, so it wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together. He’s seen Erwin Smith before. And his son is the spitting image of him. Yet you don’t say a word to him as you walk past him out of the park in the direction leading back to the train station.

For a while Eren trails wordlessly behind you, but his silence is deafening, and you know he’s too upset to hold himself back for long. So you move with haste and maintain your distance, hoping to be out of town before he causes a scene in the middle of the street.

Reaching the train station some few minutes later, you send Eren away to get a pair of tickets from the ticket booth for the both of you.

But Eren doesn’t move.

When you turn to him, you find him glaring at you with a clenched jaw, clearly hating how casual you’re being despite the wicked plan he now knows you’re planning to execute. And for a split second you think this is the moment where he’s going to turn on you.

But then he lowers his gaze and turns away to do as you’ve instructed. Albeit, tense, and with hands curled into fists at his side.

When he returns, he looks far more wretched than when he left as he stares at the train tickets in his hands. The moment he takes too long to hand over yours, you anticipate his outburst.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t have picked the worst time to do so.

Over Eren’s shoulder, stepping onto the platform a few feet away is a forest-green uniformed copper making his rounds. Knowing they never go on duty alone, you subtly glance behind you to your left where another copper has made an appearance onto the platform.

“Why are you doing this?” you hear Eren demand in front of you, his voice trembling with outrage and completely oblivious to your newfound company. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

Though Eren speaks in an angry tone, his voice does not rise. Still, the copper behind Eren turns to you both in attention.

Shit.

“That’s really none of your concern,” you answer Eren tightly under your breath while trying to calculate all the ways this can play out for you if the train doesn’t get here soon.

As you subtly remove your bag from across your chest, you notice from the corner of your eye the copper behind Eren closing in with heedful steps, watching you with wary suspicion.

You try not to make any sudden moves. The cop is too far away for him to recognize your features. But when you glance back over to your left in search of the second cop, you find you’ve lost track of him. He’s nowhere in sight and you fear he’s run off to call for backup even though he’s most likely scouting the area on the opposite side of the train station.

Despite your lack of attention, Eren continues his ranting. “He’s just a child!” he argues angrily. “He’s innocent! You can’t possibly be capable of something so —”

Just then, a strong gust of wind cuts through the night, blowing through the platform and knocking your hat off your head without warning, revealing your face under the bright lights of the train station.

The main cop recognizes you the moment you lock eyes with him. But the second he reaches for his gun, you hastily shove Eren to the ground and draw out your own, simultaneously dropping your bag with Bear in it onto Eren’s lap.

You shoot before the cop does, but the bastard dodges your bullet in the nick of time.

Refusing to give him time to recover, you continue shooting in the direction he sought cover behind a pillar to keep him in place.

“Stay down!” you shout at Eren over your shoulder before making a run for the other side of the platform to take cover behind a similar pillar.

Once out of the copper’s visible shooting range, you release another round of bullets in his direction. You manage to hit him square in the shoulder, but the cop refuses to go down and continues shooting at you, trying to hold out until backup arrives.

Except, the train to the Founding Sector arrives first, and you curse everything to hell.

The roaring of the train’s engine clashes with the sound of gunshots ricocheting across the station as it comes to a stop at its designated platform. But your attention immediately goes to the front of the train where the conductor resides. The second he looks out and sees what’s going on out here he’s going to cut the time the train waits on the platform and take off, not wanting to get caught in the middle of a gunfight.

Your hold on your gun tightens as you watch from across the platform as the doors open for passengers to board or exit, and you glower back at the cop keeping it out of reach from you.

You need to finish off the bastard now or you’ll never make it back on the train alive.

But as you reach for a magazine from the holster belt at your waist to reload your glock pistol, your hand comes up empty. That’s when you realize: in your haste to keep Eren out of the copper’s line of fire, you left your bag with him and forgot to take the extra set of magazines you’d packed in your bag with you.

Worst yet, the conductor has now realized what’s happening and has hastily begun to move the train out of the station. Eren—who obediently remains crouched on the ground as you instructed, taking cover behind a lamp post across the platform—notices too and he looks to you helplessly, unsure of what you want him to do.

He knows as well as you do this is the last train scheduled for the night. You can not miss this train. Problem is, you’ve already gone through your spare gun; all you have left are the handful of bullets you carry in your revolver.

You glance over at the green uniformed copper taking shelter from behind the pillar across the platform.

It’ll have to do.

Swapping your empty pistol for your revolver, you make sure there’s no other threats around you before rushing into the open clearing, your eyes zeroed in on the cop’s location.

Once he sees you making your way across the platform back to Eren, he wastes no time in attacking. But in doing so, he’s left himself just as vulnerable.

The moment you get a clear shot of him, you trust your natural instincts to keep you out of range from the series of bullets he sends your way, and let Death guide your hand as you release your own set of bullets.

True to your name as Messenger of Death, your bullets aim true—two to the chest and one to the copper’s head. Yet despite neutralizing the threat, you know better than to let your guard down.

A second cop—the one that had disappeared earlier—reappears before you across the station.

With Eren as his target.

“EREN!” you shout in warning just as the cop races towards him and opens fire.

Eren flinches at the gunshot and folds in on himself even further to protect himself, unaware of the threat that had been approaching behind him until the metal bullets started bouncing against the lamppost.

Ignoring the burning sensation in your legs, you quicken your speed to cut across the platform in time to reach Eren. You try shooting at the cop amidst your running, but your revolver draws empty. You’ve run out of bullets.

All the same, you remain undeterred.

Before the copper can turn his gun in your direction, you unsheathe a few blades from under your sleeves and throw them across the station with skilled accuracy. Two of them hit him across the chest while the third pierces his neck.

The cop instantly drops his gun and falls to his knees just a few feet before reaching Eren.

Eyes wide in panic, the cop reaches for the blade protruding from his neck with shaking hands, knowing that if he pulls it out he’ll only bleed to death faster.

Eren stares at him in horror, oblivious to the train in front of him that has begun to pick up speed out of the station.

“Eren, go!” you command sharply to snap his attention away from the dying cop before him. “Get on the train! Now!” But Eren is still stricken with shock and fear. He’s far too disturbed to move or acknowledge anything else happening around him.

So you force him to react to something else.

The cop your blades have pierced remains alive. Coughing up blood and on the floor, but still alive. You cannot leave him like this at the off chance he survives. These cops were on duty making their rounds, and though they may not have been the guards hired to protect Erwin Smith’s son, they recognized you the second they saw your face. If they were to spread word to Erwin that you’d been spotted this close to his son, you’d lose your leverage over him.

Reaching the cop first, you yank him by the back of the hair towards you, eliciting from him a panicked cry as you motion to retrieve the dagger from his neck. His attempts to stop you are weak and futile—the blood stains he leaves on your hands and coat the only signs of his struggle. Eren also realizes what you’re about to do and moves to stop you.

“No! Don’t!” he cries out desperately, a hand extended out towards you to stop. But your eyes are cold and ruthless as you twist the blade sideways on the cop’s neck, and in one clean sweep slit the man’s throat.

Eren flinches as blood splatters on the floor in front of him. Yet your expression remains unfazed as you pull out the two other daggers from his chest and let the cop’s body fall to the ground in front of you with a heavy thump. You then take a spare handkerchief from your coat and wipe them clean before securing them back in their holsters.

Eren stares at the unmoving figure before him in aghast before his expression slowly changes. When he looks up at you again, his eyes are reproachful and unforgiving. As if you’ve committed the worst crime imaginable. As if you haven’t done this hundreds of times before.

You step over the cop lying dead on the floor to cut the space between you and Eren, a hard scowl lining your features. You just saved his goddamn life! How can he have any sympathy for the cop when he had been seconds away from killing him?

“You have yet to see me at my worst, Eren Yeager,” you remind him darkly. You then lean in to roughly take back your bag from him. “If you can’t handle me now, don’t bother coming back.”

Throwing the bag over your shoulder, you turn your back on him and make a run for the train before it can gain anymore speed and disappear completely off the platform.

You make it onboard with ease and start digging for some coins to bribe the conductor with since Eren never actually got to hand you your train ticket. You consider this an excuse to linger by the opening of the door, and not a sign of weakness.

But there’s no one around here to fool except yourself.

The true reason you keep glancing over your shoulder is not because you’re on the lookout for the conductor. You’re on the lookout for Eren, waiting for him to appear in front of the door you just jumped in from.

He doesn’t, of course.

Eren is not meant to follow you into the darkness. Your violent and vindictive nature is not something anyone can control.

Nor do you want it to be.

Refraining from looking back any further, you keep your attention forward.

Bear proves to be a good distraction as he pops out of your bag the second you take a seat in one of the many vacant chairs within the passenger car. He starts meowing at you incessantly, as if reprimanding you for all the noise and rough handling he’s had to endure while traveling inside your bag.

You smile down at him in amusement and nod to his every meow like you understand what he’s saying.

“I know,” you coo at him in agreement, sounding like a mother soothing her weary child. “You’ve had quite the adventure.”

To compensate him for his troubles, you reward him with a generous amount of treats while you pet him in all his favorite spots. In return he purrs loudly against your touch, letting you know you’re forgiven.

A figure approaches from the passenger car connected next to yours a few minutes later, and at first you think its the conductor making his rounds, checking for tickets. But then you do a double take and you’re surprised to find its not the conductor, or any other wayward passenger in search of a seat.

A mixture of emotions run through you at the sight of him before you, but you keep your features composed and try not to overthink what his presence here means.

Sliding the cabin door open to your passenger car, Eren steps inside your compartment.

You regard him warily with narrowed eyes from across the cabin as he makes his way inside, unsure of what he’ll do next since he always seems to end up doing that which you least expect him to do. But his eyes are downcast and he wears a dejected expression on his face that you’re undoubtedly responsible for putting there.

Without directing a word to you, he sits down a few seats opposite you.

The longer he goes without speaking to you, the more anxious you become. Still, you refuse to be the one to break the silence first so you ignore him for the duration of the ride as he does with you.

Reverting your focus back to Bear, you play with him until the feline grows tired and falls asleep in your lap. With the way he’s curled in on himself, completely at ease by your warmth and presence, you almost don’t want to disturb him.

But alas, your weapons need reloading.

Careful not to startle him awake, you scoop Bear up and gently settle him on the seat next to you before you draw out your weapons. Your hands move with skill and precision as you reload your firearms with the magazines in your bag, enjoying the satisfying click they make at the end when they’re fully armed and ready. Leaving your revolver for last, you slide its corresponding bullets inside the silver cylinder until all six chambers are loaded.

You sense Eren watching you from where he sits across from you as you do this, seemingly on edge by the noises your guns are making.

Which only confuses you all the more. If he’s so bothered by all this, why did he even come back?

After what seems like forever, Eren finally breaks the silence.

“Who is Erwin to you?” he demands as calmly as he can muster, but given the scowl still branding his features, he is still very much upset. And you have to refrain from flinching by how uneven his voice sounds.

You snap the cartridge to your revolver shut and return it to its holster.

“A dead man walking,” you answer flatly.

Eren’s hands curl into fists at his lap but he forces himself to ask, “Why do you and Levi hate him so much? What did he do to you?”

Images of your home being invaded, your mother dead at your feet, you standing over her grave as they bury her underground, flash before you.

“He ruined me.”

You spin your two remaining firearms on both of your index fingers before crossing your arms across your chest to place them back in the holsters under your arms.

You lock eyes with Eren. “I plan on returning the favor.”

He throws you a scathing look. “By spilling innocent blood?”

“Blood is all I want,” you reply back mildly. “I will fill rivers with it if it means getting the justice I am owed.”

Eren’s frown deepens, appalled. “Justice?” His body turns towards you, eyes ablaze. “Justice is working with the police. With the law. To try and change the system. To end things peacefully. What you want is revenge. That is not the same thing.”

“It is in my world.” You settle back against your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, but though you appear to be reclining, you are wound tight. Your eyes are sharp as daggers as you then add haughtily, “But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Eren stares at you with a clenched jaw, annoyed and frustrated by your stubbornness. But the determined look in his eyes tells you he refuses to give up on you. So he changes tactics. With a heavy sigh, his shoulders sag and his features soften. His tone, pleading.

“I know you’re angry,” he says in a low voice. “I know you’ve been hurt. But—”

“Then you know why the commander must die,” you cut him off irritably. Eren may have a sense of what Erwin had done to you and your family but he did not know the details. If he did, he wouldn’t be saying any of this.

Eren shakes his head. “Not like this.” He rises from his seat and takes ginger steps across the moving train to move closer to you. “Please. You can choose to forgive him. To show him mercy.”

“Mercy?” you repeat with a snarl, leaning forward in your seat. “You think Erwin Smith deserves my mercy?”

“No,” he clarifies hastily, stopping in his tracks. “But you deserve peace. And forgiving him is the only way you can start to heal.”

“It is not in my nature to forgive. Perhaps it had been, once,” you admit with a hint of lament that you are unable to mask from him. “But when my mother died, she took along with her whatever goodness there had ever been in me. I have nothing left.”

Eren shakes his head and takes a step towards you. “You don’t believe that. You can’t—You can’t seriously think this is what your mother would have wanted for you? To live your life solely for vengeance?”

Your siren eyes flash up to him in warning, but Eren presses on. “You think she would be proud of the person you’ve become? I may not have known your mother, but I know for a fact if she saw you now, she would be devastated to see her daughter capable of so much evil.”

“Evil?” You laugh wryly. “Despite what you’re always preaching, mate, I am not the villain in this story.”

Eren narrows his eyes, the desperation visible in his gaze and tone. “If you’re not the villain, then stop acting like one.”

Your eyes crystalize into something dark and dangerous as you regard him with a tilt of the head. “You accuse me of committing atrocities.” You stand and take a threatening step towards him, and Eren—noticing this dark shift in you—wisely steps back. “But nothing I have done can ever measure up to what that bastard did.”

You draw Eren into a corner until the back of his knees hit the seats of the train behind him. With nowhere to move, he unwillingly falls into the seat as you lean forward and raise an arm to grip the back of his seat, not once breaking eye contact with him as you continue.

“Under his leadership, a specialized police force was sent to my family’s home with a search warrant thinking they would find incriminating evidence against both my father and Levi’s father. In their attempt to taking them down, they raided my home. Killing anyone within sight. Innocent lives were caught in the crossfire. Including my mother’s.”

Eren visibly flinches at the hatred in your tone and he starts to turn away, wanting to look away from the intense fierceness in your eyes. But you keep his face in place with a thumb and index finger against his jaw, forcing him to keep his eyes on you. He’s close enough for you to see the shade of green in his eyes glisten against the light of the train like summer leaves in sunlight— bright, bold, and beautiful. But you refuse to let the sight of them warm your heart.

“You still think my wrath misplaced?” you demand icily. “You think it fair for a child of only six to have to watch her mother bleed out to death in front of her?”

Eren works his jaw, hating the direction this conversation was taking, but he says nothing, knowing your question is rhetorical.

“When my father found me covered in my mother’s blood afterwards, shaking with fear… He saw my pain, my grief. And he promised to make things right again. He said he would make everyone responsible to suffer the same way they made us suffer. And he did.”

Eren shakes his head and closes his eyes in a grimace.

“Stop,” he whispers, so softly that if you weren’t as close as you were you wouldn’t have heard him. He tries to move away. “I don’t want to hear this.”

You press a hand over his shoulder, shoving him back down. “What’s wrong?” you ask mockingly. “Is the truth too hard for you to swallow?”

He knocks your arm away and shoves you aside, walking away from you to create some space from you across the passenger car. “You’ve proved your point. You can stop now.”

“Stop? But you haven’t heard the best part! Don’t you want to hear how he did it? How my father hunted down every single one of Erwin’s men that had been sent in to raid our home that day? Don’t you want to hear of all the ways he tortured each and every one of them in the comfort of their own homes and slaughtered their families like they did mine?”

Eren moves for the door with a shake of the head, having heard enough.

“He saved my mother’s killer for last,” you drawl behind him in a sinister tone.

Eren pauses at the door, a hand frozen over the handle as you continue.

“By then, the cop knew what my father was doing, and that it was only a matter of time before he got to him. But when he least expected it, my father made his move and invaded his home, just like he did with us. And oh, did my father take his time with him.”

Eren’s grip on the door handle tightens until his knuckles turn white as a ghost.

“Hours my father spent with him, keeping him just barely alive for him to give my father the information he wanted on Erwin. Then, while his seven-year-old son watched, my father murdered his wife in front of him the same way it was done to me. In the end, knowing the cop would not survive for much longer, my father let the cop live out the last moments of his life wallowing in guilt for all the pain and misfortune he brought onto his family for his actions. When my father left, he said he saw his son crawl to his dying father’s side, but who knows if the kid survived on his own after all that.”

Eren bristles at the mention of the son and turns to you reproachfully.

“Do you even know their names?” he demands, seething. “Do you know the names of any of the people he killed?” His eyes narrow at you accusingly. “Of the people you’ve killed?”

You scowl back and growl through your teeth, “They do not deserve to be remembered.”

Eren looks appalled and turns away to sit at the nearest seat from him, looking defeated and out of strength. Even the look in his eyes has grown dull as he stares at an invisible spot in front of him with a distant, unfocused gaze. You think he’s probably regretting following you back now after all you’ve said to him.

Either way, you leave him to his own thoughts and try to keep him out of yours as you make your way back to Bear who is still curled up asleep where you left him last.

As the train arrives at the Founding Sector’s train station moments later, you glimpse over at Eren who is leaning forward in his seat with his elbows on his knees and his head in between his hands.

It shouldn’t bother you that he looks so miserable, but it does. And you hate it. But you refrain from going to him.

This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. This was the whole point of letting him come along, to show him who you really are. For him to see that you’re really not worth saving and that he’s better off giving up on you.

While you collect your cat inside your bag and move for the door, Eren struggles to his feet. As you get closer you notice how pale he is.

“Oi,” you say coolly, intercepting him at the door. “You don’t look so good.”

But he ignores you and brushes past you, forcing you to watch him go as he stumbles off the train into the deserted platform.

You instinctively reach out to grab him by the arm before he can hit the floor as his legs give out on him, but he slaps your hand away.

“Don’t!” he shouts vehemently, hastily stepping back from you.

Your eyebrows shoot up, startled for a second by the strange look in his eyes, but then he blinks and it vanishes. Before you can question it further, he points an accusatory finger at you.

“You let me come here with you,” he growls at you with reproach. “To witness—” He presses his lips together, his expression pained, as he looks in the direction of where the train just came from. “To push me away.”

Your jaw tightens, but your features remain aloof. Neither acknowledging nor denying anything.

Not that Eren needs you to.

He’s clearly seen right through you, and that’s what has him most upset.

He shakes his head at you when you say nothing, and you hate the disappointment glistening in his eyes when he does.

“You want to go down this path?” he questions with disdain. “Fine. But if you wish to destroy yourself in the process, know that I made an oath to your father. And I plan on honoring it—with my life if I have to.”

He turns and staggers off in the direction of the canals that lead back home without another word.

Your nails dig deep into the palm of your hands, trying to swallow down your rage. But there is no hiding the burning frustration from your eyes. The way you watch after Eren is similar to the way a monster is forced to watch its victim walk away after escaping from its clutches.

This is not the way you imagined this night to go. But quite honestly, when has anything gone according to plan when Eren is involved?

And yet, all throughout the walk back home as you follow closely behind in Eren’s footsteps, you can’t stop thinking about the strange look Eren threw at you when you tried to steady him off the train. It had only been there for a second, but it had been enough for you to recognize the same pure, undiluted loathing that you saw on the faces of your enemies every time they looked your way.

It surprised you then because you would have considered such an intense, hateful gaze out of place in the eyes of someone like him. But when you locked eyes with him, in that brief moment you saw that dark look manifest in those kind, hopeful and passionate eyes you were so used to looking back at you, it did not seem misplaced at all. Rather, these raw emotions of his reflected so deeply within him, it made you believe they had always been there. Hidden behind a curtain that was never meant to be unveiled.

But it has. And now he’s got alarms going off inside your head, telling you to be wary of him even more than before. Because even if you can’t fully read Eren’s true intentions, of one thing you’re absolutely certain of: Eren is hiding something.

A dark secret he’s buried so deep within that even the brightness in his emerald eyes dimmed when you’d caught a glimpse of it trying to break out from its confinement…

Ahead of you, Eren disappears from view as he turns the corner leading down the backstreets of Trost Lane. You proceed after him with an air of casual indifference despite your senses warning you to not lose track of him, to keep him close. Secrets are dangerous—they become a liability, and sometimes, if left unsupervised, can ultimately destroy you.

But you also know that in the underworld knowledge is power. And what Eren doesn’t realize is that in this line of work, secrets are never kept secret for long. One way or another, all hidden truths come to surface.

Nevertheless, you can’t seem to keep the edge off your voice as you slowly turn on your heels to face her.

“Is that not what you have done?” you ask coolly. “Did you and Jean not confirm with Levi all your suspicions and concerns over my complete disregard for my mental and physical health?”

Your voice turns mocking as you play out what you imagine Mikasa’s conversation with Levi had gone.

“‘Anya doesn’t eat, she doesn’t sleep. Her need for vengeance is going to get herself killed. You need to stop her, Levi,’” you whine aggressively while slowly making your way towards her. “'Lock her up inside her house so she can’t escape. It’s the only way to keep her safe.’”

Mikasa swallows, flinching at the resentment in your tone as you come to stand before her.

“Tell me, Mikasa,” you demand roughly, your siren eyes piercing into hers like daggers. “Do I look like someone who wants to live a simple life? That that’s even possible for someone like me?” You shake your head at her. “No, love. The time for that has passed.” You start to turn back to the staircase. “There is no rest for me in this world. Perhaps in the next.”

But something in Mikasa snaps.

“And what makes you think we want anything different?” she demands sharply before you can take more than a few steps.

You pause, glancing at her over your shoulder as she cuts the space between you with menacing strides.

“Jean, Armin, Sasha, me—everyone—we all knew the kind of life we were signing up for when you came to us,” she reminds you bitterly. “We knew and still we chose you. So don’t you dare turn this against us and accuse us of turning our backs on you—” She points a finger at you, “—when it’s you who’s walking away from us.”

You clench your jaw at her words, narrowing your eyes at her as you regard her closely.

Mikasa’s features have hardened. There is no hint of doubt in her eyes as there had been before. She stands before you as she always does: bravely, fiercely, and confident. It’s almost hard to imagine there was ever a time when she did not look or act this way because to everyone who knew her now, this was the kind of person she has always been.

But you knew her before anyone else did; you knew her when there had been no signs of life or fire in her eyes at all. Only darkness.

And that is the girl you see now, hidden underneath all the bravado.

Like Levi, Mikasa lost both her parents during the raid on your home that day. But after suffering such loss, Mikasa became nothing more than an empty shell of a girl, keeping to herself despite being surrounded by the remaining members of her clan.

Levi had thought she’d lost the will to live and was simply wandering about idly, growing numb to the world and waiting for the day until she could be reunited with her mother and father.

But you disagreed.

If that had been the case, the girl would not have prolonged her suffering for as long as she had. She would have found a way to rid herself free of this life once and for all.

No. Something was holding her back. And it wasn’t from lack of courage.

The truth of the matter was this: Mikasa simply did not want to die. She was waiting for something. A sign to tell her there was a reason for her existence. A reason why she was still living when her parents were not. The girl was desperate for it. Only someone like you, who’d felt and understood that amount of loss and pain, could visibly see it.

So you reckoned you give her one.

Late one night, with you and Levi fresh out of training, you were traveling back home with Levi and your father from a late night social gathering. When your carriage arrived in front of your father’s townhouse, you were the last one to step out, which is how you were able to spot her.

Mikasa had appeared coming out of a well-frequented pub located at the corner of the block from where you, Levi, and your father resided. Whether she had finished a shift or had come to run an errand for someone, you didn’t know. All you knew was she was a girl of thirteen, same age as you, but far more alone and completely vulnerable. And for someone like her to wander these parts of town in the middle of the night…

Well, she was practically begging for trouble, wasn’t she?

You lingered by the side of the road, adjusting your coat — and the weapons concealed underneath — trying to stall time until you could determine where the girl was headed and whether she would be fine on her own. But then you saw the dark-haired girl pass a group of obnoxiously loud and drunken men down the street before turning the corner into an alleyway, noting the fiendish way they looked at her from behind before following after her a few seconds later.

There was no thinking on your part then. A strong, rather uncontrollable urge to protect her had coursed through you and you tailed after them into the night like a vengeful demon out for blood.

None of your guards noticed you slip away. Nor did Levi or your father, who had already made their way inside the house. Which had been for the best, considering nothing was going to stop you from getting to Mikasa.

Perhaps Levi or your father might have taken action if you’d mentioned Mikasa was in danger, but they would have refused to let you accompany them if you had. And you could not allow this. You wanted to be the one to save her, to be the one to spark fire back into that defeated, broken vessel of a girl.

By the time you’d caught up to them, the drunk pieces of human filth the world considered men had cornered Mikasa down a dead end. Their attention was focused solely on her so they did not see or hear you move amidst the dimly lit alley as you arrived from behind them.

Against the darkness of the night, you could make out Mikasa standing frozen in place, her back against the wall and wearing a look of resignation on her face as these men strode towards her with ill-intent.

To anyone standing in your place, Mikasa looked like any other damsel in distress, which is perhaps why Levi believed your tendency for picking up so many strays was because you felt bad for them.

But you were no savior.

Everyone that came into your circle was personally handpicked by you and chosen for their skillsets because you had seen potential in them. Having found them all at their worst points only fed onto your desire to have them under your command because now that they’d been touched by darkness, they had nothing left to fear. And despite offering them no freedom from death or darkness under your leadership, still they did not refuse you — as you knew they wouldn’t. Apart from a means to survive, you were offering them something they unknowingly desired more: the promise of retribution onto those who had put them under such situations in the first place.

Mikasa had been no different.

When the first man moved to grab her, you moved against the shadows with an almost inhuman stealth before drawing your blades and slitting his throat in one swift movement. It wasn’t until he dropped dead at your feet, giving you a clear view of Mikasa, that you saw she’d had her fists up, ready to fight — a natural reflex of the human body wanting to survive.

Needing her to have your back so you could take on the rest of her attackers, you presented her a blade and told her to fight.

She has been fighting for you ever since.

Even now as she stands before you, tense and angry and vicious, you know there is no one more loyal than Mikasa; it’s a trait embedded in her nature, and one you deeply admire most about her.

But the look in your eyes remains distant and reserved, if not rueful. You turn your back on her and resume your way down the hallway to the stairs.

“Spare me the theatrics,” you say impatiently, not sparing her a second glance. “You’re only here for one reason, and we both know it’s not for some measly chat.”

Mikasa scoffs, affronted. “Is that what you think?”

“You work for my father now,” you reply back simply, reaching the stairs. “Just like Levi and all your Ackerman clan.”

“If that’s true,” Mikasa growls behind you, “then why am I letting you leave?”

Seconds later Mikasa’s weapons clatter loudly to the floor at her feet, making you pause mid-step down the stairs.

You turn. Mikasa has followed after you and now stands at the top of the stairs, watching you from above with eyes hard as steel.

“You gave me a home when I had none,” she says, holding your gaze as she makes her way down the stairs towards you. “You gave me a sense of belonging—purpose.” There’s a tremor to her voice that some might mistake for nerves, but you knew it for what it was. Anger. “I could never betray you. I am loyal to you and only you. Not your father. Or Levi. You. And I know I speak for the rest of your team when I say that they feel the same way.”

You follow her down the stairs with heedful eyes, trying to predict her next move as she makes her way closer to you. She’s visibly weaponless and showing no signs to disarm you, but Mikasa has never needed weapons to render herself dangerous. And the severe look on her face tells you she’s done walking on eggshells with you.

“Your father didn’t find any of us and save us,” she continues through gritted teeth, standing only a couple of steps above you. “You did. We owe you our lives. And we will spend every day repaying you for giving us our lives back. If that means taking down Erwin Smith and the rest of his men for you, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You tsk, unimpressed.

“So you keep telling me,” you reply, your voice barely a murmur before turning to walk away.

Mikasa grabs your arm before you can, holding you back. “We are not the enemy, Anya,” she tells you vehemently, her eyes lethal. “How many times do we have to keep proving it?”

But your own patience wears out.

“Then trust me!” you snap back, roughly breaking out of her hold. “Do not doubt my command or my strength. Trust that I have a plan, that I know what I’m doing.” You take a step up so you’re only one step below her, a scowl lining your features. “Can I trust you to believe me?”

Mikasa glares back at you, the jaggedness in her voice returning. “Even if that means letting you die?”

Your lip curls up in irritation. You’ve had this conversation before. With your father and with Levi. You will not have it a third time.

“You ask for my trust,” you say with a snarl, redirecting the conversation. “You have it.” You’ve always had it, you don’t say. “Do I have yours?”

Mikasa’s jaw tightens as she’s forced to bite back what she really wants to say.

“Yes,” she ultimately lets out, swallowing thickly, as if the word were like sand paper grating against her tongue.

You offer her a dark smile. “Good.”

You turn and lead the rest of the way down the stairs towards the kitchen’s back door where Jean and Connie stand guard on the other side of the fence bordering your home. They had been your initial plan of escape, but with Mikasa’s unexpected intervention, you assumed you’d missed your window of opportunity to sneak past them during their shift change. But as luck would have it, when you mention of your initial plan to Mikasa, she tells you it was she who had been scheduled to relieve them from their post. So not all was lost.

When you arrive at the kitchen, Mikasa takes the lead and unlocks the backdoor without turning on the lights. As she steps out, you follow close behind, passing the spotless sink and counter and overfilled pantry.

By the time you make your way across your backyard, Mikasa has unlocked the gate to the fence lining your home at the far left of the yard.

You linger behind for a moment to study the tall and narrow evergreen trees bordering your fence that help maintain privacy from prying eyes before following after Mikasa. If she had not been here with you, you would have climbed over the fence to get to the other side of where Jean and Connie stood guard, per your original plan.

With Mikasa on her guard ahead of you, it is her Connie and Jean see first as she opens the gate not too far from where they stand.

“Bloody hell, Mikasa!” Connie cries out angrily the second he spots her. ”Took you long enough!”

“Where were you?” Jean demands just as viciously. “And why are you coming out through…?”

Jean trails off as Mikasa steps aside and reveals you from behind her.

They immediately tense at your presence and look to Mikasa for answers, wanting to know why you were standing outside your home with them and not inside the house as you were supposed to be.

Mikasa merely nods in reassurance, communicating to them silently that this is okay and there’s no need for them to panic. But their eyes run over you, taking in your attire and your bag where Bear’s head peaks out from the side, silently watching them.

Connie tenses at the sight of your dark kitten, and you know he’s figured out where you’re going, but he keeps quiet.

“You’re leaving,” Jean says, unable to mask the heavy disapproval in his tone.

“I won’t be long,” you reply back evenly. “I’ll be back before Levi returns.”

“Without escort,” Connie adds flatly.

Jean frowns. “No. Not alone. I’m coming with you.”

“No. You are not,” you say firmly.

“But—”

“Even if I wanted you to come, you can’t. None of you are supposed to leave your posts.”

“We’re also ordered not to let you leave,” Jean points out, glaring at Mikasa before sliding his gaze back to you. “You can’t run off again. There’s a reason why your father doesn’t want you out alone!”

Annoyance prickles your skin. “I think I’ve made my orders clear.” You slide your eyes over to Mikasa. “Have I not, Mikasa?”

Mikasa’s voice is low and resigned, but clear. “Let her go, Jean. If she says she doesn’t need us, then she doesn’t need us.”

Jean turns to her in outrage, unable to fathom how she’s willing to let you go out on your own so easily. “If her father finds out we let her go—”

“He won’t,” Mikasa cuts him off sharply. “I trust her to return to us safely. Don’t you?”

Jean scowls at her, the muscle in his jaw twitching, before turning to you with a sullen look. “Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.”

You turn to leave. “You’re right. You don’t.”

“Wait!” Jean’s hand locks on your arm, holding you back.

You turn to glare at him, ready to tell him off, but when you look back, his forehead is creased with concern and your aggravation subsides.

“Just… be careful,” he says.

You offer him a devilish smirk. “Aren’t I always?”

Before they can do or say anything else that might further prolong your departure, you turn your back on them and leave through the backstreets of the townhouses with the stealth and fluidity of a wraith. You can still sense their eyes on you though, their apprehension following you deep into the night like a fire refusing to die out. It isn’t until they lose sight of you completely as you take a turn down an alley that leads along the city’s main waterways that you feel the abrupt coldness from the lack of their fire.

But that feeling does not last.

As you furtively venture along one of the canals that crosses through the train station, you sense movement behind you, throwing your body on even higher alert.

Without missing a step in your stride, you steal a glimpse over your shoulder through your peripherals to confirm your suspicions. But even blindfolded and without verbal warning of any kind, you trust your body’s reaction well enough.

You were being followed.

—

The evening is still and quiet, only the water flowing calmly against the canal beside you and your leisurely, calculated steps stir the delicate ambience of the night.

The moon watches down on you expectantly with a thin crescent grin, as if already knowing your next move and eagerly awaiting to see how you will play it out.

You’ve located the figure tailing you easily enough which is how you know it’s no one from your cadre. Or even Levi’s men. They are all far too trained to get caught by you so quickly.

No, this one is far too clumsy and, considering you don’t sense any further threats around you, he is also alone.

You can hear his footsteps struggling to match with yours as you lead your pursuer in the direction of a dark, narrow tunnel. A swift glimpse over your shoulder assures you he remains a safe distance away, thinking you still haven’t noticed him following behind you.

But once you arrive at the mouth of the tunnel, you stop and wait before entering, wanting him to catch up.

When your pursuer is close enough and realizes you’re not moving, he lingers quietly in the shadows, also waiting.

You stand with your back to him, facing the open tunnel, and give it a few seconds before you call to him over your shoulder.

“You can come out now.”

There’s a brief moment where nothing happens, but eventually Eren’s boyish features are revealed to you as he slowly steps into the moonlight.

“I didn’t think you should be alone,” he says in way of explanation, approaching you with heedful steps.

Your smile is mocking as you turn to face him. “You will protect me?”

Eren stops an arms length away in front of you. “Your father will get angry if he hears you’ve left by yourself.”

Your siren eyes gleam with amusement. “And Levi will be even more angry that you’re here.”

At the mention of Levi, Eren’s eyes get drawn to the visible mark on your neck and his heavy gaze makes you suddenly self conscious about it. Levi never gives it much of a chance to heal so there’s no mistaking what it is and who it is that put it there. Perhaps it’s for this reason that the sight of it makes Eren look like he’s swallowing down shards of glass down his throat. If Levi’s intention had been to prove his claim on you with that bruise on your neck, he’s succeeded.

Eren turns away with a fixed jaw. “If he truly cares for you,” he says through gritted teeth, “he’ll be more grateful I didn’t leave you alone.”

There’s a slyness to your smile as you study him closely. The fact Eren made it this far without anyone noticing or stopping him is rather impressive. He couldn’t be that much of an amateur if he managed to stay out of radar from Levi’s men when Levi was so adamant that Eren remain far away from you.

Still, you think it’s good that he’s here to witness this. The guy needed a taste of the kind of life he willingly threw himself into and the choices you’re forced to make to survive.

You remove the bag from across your chest and hand it over for him to take, indicating to him you’ve given in to him. “Then just keep quiet and follow.”

He gives a start as he notices Bear’s ear popping out and twitch from the side of the bag, but he takes it from you without question.

With only a few minutes left before the next train to Karanes, you turn and walk straight into the mouth of the tunnel. Eren doesn’t miss a beat and follows after you into the darkness.

—

By the time you arrive at the train station, the place appears desolate with only a handful of travelers scattered throughout the platform. The train to Karanes has yet to arrive and you send Eren to buy a pair of tickets for you both at the ticket booth.

While you wait for him, you make sure to keep your cap low over your face and your tattooed wrist covered as you reach in your pocket for a lighter and a cigarette. When Eren returns, you hear the roaring of the train’s engine approach the platform and eventually come to a complete stop. As the doors open in front of you, allowing you passage inside, the conductor makes an announcement over the speakers, informing travelers of its next destination.

“All aboard! Next stop: Karanes district!”

“What’s in the Karanes district?” Eren asks beside you, handing you a ticket with the train’s destination and estimated time of arrival.

You take a last blow of your cigarette before putting it out and flicking it away.

“Not what,” you answer vaguely, “but who.”

Taking the ticket from him, you step into the train to search for a vacant seat. Eren steps in after you and it’s like you can practically hear his mind reeling behind you, but before he can ask anymore questions, a little dark-haired girl no older than five sitting with her mother up ahead notices Bear peaking out of the bag Eren carries over his shoulder.

“Kitty!” she exclaims excitedly as you and Eren pass them by. Without a second thought she jumps out of her seat and runs after Eren, tugging at the bag to get a better look at Bear.

Eren greets her with a warm laugh.

“Hello there,” he says , peeking over his shoulder at the child behind him before fully turning to her. “Did you want to say hello to him?”

You notice Eren subtly shifting the bag out of the kid’s reach and keeping a firm grip on the flap so she doesn’t flip it open and reveal any inappropriate or dangerous content you might have packed inside that he was unaware of and that a kid her age shouldn’t get her hands on.

The girl’s mother hastily scolds the girl for her behavior and ushers the kid back to her seat, but Eren is looking over at you with pleading eyes, as if requesting your permission to further interact with the child.

You turn away with a mask of indifference—giving off no indication that you’re particularly opposed or that you approve of further entertaining the kid—and take a seat on the opposite side of them a few seats down.

Uncertainty lines Eren’s features for a split second as you leave him to handle the situation on his own. But the guy can’t contain himself. He takes up the closest empty seat beside him and when the girl notices him begin to pull Bear out of the bag, the child is quick to settle in next to him, her hazel eyes wide and full of excitement.

You watch them from afar with a detached gaze while Eren fondly watches over the girl play with Bear in her lap right next to him. He senses your eyes on him and he glances over at you from across the rows of empty seats with a bright and wholesome smile on his face.

You hardly notice them leave as you take a closer step towards Levi, your scowl still in place.

“You said you were on my side,” you hiss at him through gritted teeth, ignoring the throbbing pain you feel against your right knuckles from the punch as your hands remain curled at your sides. “You said you would never betray me. But now you have my father going against me? Keeping me under house arrest? He’s stripped me of my command! I have no power. No control. Over anything! Not even my own people!”

You shove at his chest when he says nothing, beyond frustrated. “What the hell, Levi?! How can you let him do this to me?!”

But he catches your wrists the moment they collide against his chest and locks them in place so as to keep you still and make you listen. “He’s trying to keep you safe,” Levi says with infuriating calmness. “Away from trouble. Away from dying.”

You shake your head, breaking free from his grip. “Oh, no. This is your doing.” You point a finger at him. “This is what you wanted. To cage me in here and keep me out of danger. For your sake. And now, because of you, he’s gone ahead and brought Eren into this bloody business as some sick punishment—or reward, I don't even know!”

Levi stares at you in bewilderment.

“What?” he asks faintly before frowning, unable to make sense of what you’ve just said. “… Why? The guy kidnapped you! How can Ymir allow him to —”

“Oh, don’t act like you had no part in this!” you cut him off with a snarl.

Levi’s eyes narrow at the accusation. “I have no influence over your father’s decisions, Anya. No one does.”

You let out a sharp laugh. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke? You're always with him! Plotting things behind closed doors, scheming over who knows what—”

“At least I’m not scheming behind his back!” Levi snaps back. He takes a meaningful step towards you, glowering at you. “You orchestrated an attack on that journalist and his family, took down a whole squadron of Erwin’s cops without consulting your father or me first, and you don't expect retribution?” He shakes his head, frustrated. “If you weren’t so bloody reckless—”

“Everything I do is in my father’s best interest,” you counter back defensively. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

You turn to leave, having no further reason to stay after having made your discontentment known. But Levi refuses to let it end like this.

“Your father told you to leave Erwin to him,” he says behind you in warning.

You stop in your tracks, scoffing in disbelief at his blatant hypocrisy before whirling on him.

“If I put Kenny in front of you right now and told you to leave him alone,” you ask Levi challengingly, “to let him walk away from you unscathed by your blades, would you let him walk out of here alive?”

Levi scowls at you bitterly, jaw clenched, before swallowing and looking away. He knows the point you’re making. The man that betrayed his family, that left the Ackerman clan in ruins… Levi wants no one else to suffer more under his hands than that man.

“Answer me!” you demand harshly when he doesn’t reply back. “Would you?”

Levi reluctantly slides his eyes back to you. “Your father has a plan for Erwin,” he insists through clenched teeth, diverting from answering your question.

You scoff in disdain. “A plan that has taken him twelve years to go through with?” You shake your head and move for the door. “No. I’m done waiting.”

“So you'll conspire against him?” Levi demands angrily, following closely after you. “As what, an act of rebellion? To prove to him you're capable of handling this on your own? Erwin is not someone you can just—”

“My father raised us for vengeance,” you remind him coolly over your shoulder. “He promised it. I’m merely collecting on that promise.”

You reach for the door and pull it open, but Levi’s hand comes from behind you and slams the door back shut in your face.

You tense. His solid form is pressed so close behind you, you can feel his warmth radiating from his body against you.

“Hate me all you want,” Levi hisses against your ear, his breath moving the loose strands of hair near the side of your face, “but I’m not letting you run off again on your own.”

Dark amusement twinkles in the corner of your eye. “You don't want to play this game with me, Levi.”

Levi lets out an annoyed growl and without warning, takes you by the shoulders and turns you around. Pinning you against the door. “Enough with your stupid games! Of what good is your vengeance if you're dead!”

The second he takes you against the door, you bristle, ready to pounce, but you’re not prepared by the amount of anger and fear you find in his eyes as he glares back at you. Like he doesn’t know whether to continue yelling at you or take you in his arms instead. And the wave of guilt hits you hard.

Levi has always shown a level of concern for you growing up. Subtly, sure. But it has always been enough to steal your heart away; whether it was offering you his coat when you grew cold, tending to your wounds whenever you hurt yourself playing out in the woods, or carrying you on his back when you grew too tired after a long walk in the gardens, he was always looking after you.

After the trauma and grief you both experienced as children, Levi only grew more protective of you.

Yet, despite the marriage pact between you, your father’s ambitions to rule over the underworld had you and Levi taking on different forms of responsibilities for the betterment of the Ymir and Ackerman clan that your father eventually took Levi aside and began to work with him personally. If only to prepare him with the skills and knowledge he would need to take up the role as head of the Ackerman clan by the time he turned eighteen. Allowing the questionable missions your father sent him on to build Levi's reputation and credibility in the underworld.

With you, however, he was not as concerned with since your father still had much more to do before letting you take on the mantel as head of the Ymir clan.

But this shift in responsibilities put you and Levi out of balance. Your fiance, though young and not in full control over the decisions effecting the Ackerman clan, now had more power and respect over the people of the underworld than you did. So while your father and Levi were out conducting legal and illegal matters as both business partners and heads of their households, you were left behind to keep things in order within the sectors.

Which, for a while, you didn’t mind. You were able to fashion your own reputation amongst the underworld with the dealings you partook in during that time. By taking what your father taught you, you used violence and intimidation to evoke fear onto the people who dared rise against you and bend them to your will. Establishing yourself as someone to be reckoned with without needing the association of your family name.

But that was many years ago, and time has not been kind. This rift between you and Levi has grown detrimental. For years you’ve tried to make sense of it, but all it has ever brought you is unending heartache. Heartache because Levi keeps throwing cracks into your relationship and it’s like he doesn’t seem to care that the foundation holding you both together is breaking.

And yet…

You try not to fall for it as much as before but you can’t help it.

There always comes moments such as these, when Levi looks at you as intensely as he does now, that you like to let yourself believe he would do anything for you. That despite his indifferent attitude when you’re in the presence of others, he’s bothered by the fact that he has to rely on others to keep you safe when that role has always been his and his alone. You even like to think he resents your father, just like you have, for forcing you both apart the way that he has. If only just a little.

But over his shoulder stands the girl in the dress embellished in blood. Watching you with those blank, haunted eyes. And you’re reminded of the bitter truth.

You reach up to caress the dried up blood that’s formed against the side of his lower lip. “Don't look at me like that,” you say to him ruefully, your voice barely a whisper.

Levi frowns, noting the sudden change in your demeanor. “Like what?”

You lower your gaze with a wry smile, drawing your hand away. “Like you might actually love me.”

Levi’s grip on your shoulders loosen in surprise. “What?”

You feel his sharp gaze on you, demanding for an explanation, but his hold on you is weak. You shoulder him aside with enough force for you to move towards the other side of the room.

With Levi blocking the exit, you’re trapped inside the room with him until he decides to step aside or you somehow manage to lure him away from the door. But with what you’ve just said to him…This was going to take a while.

You start searching around his room in search of a bottle to drink as Levi stands where you’ve left him by the door, impatiently watching you rummage through his things.

“Anya.”

You ignore him and slam the drawer to his bedside table shut after finding no bottles of alcohol or silver flasks in there.

“Please tell me you have something stronger to drink in here than black tea.”

Levi bristles. “Anya.”

You start to cut across the room to his bathroom where you know he has a bottle of alcohol under the sink that he uses to disinfect his wounds. But Levi gets to you before you can, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn to him.

“For fuck’s sake, woman!” he says, completely on edge. “Answer me! Why would you think I—”

“Because you don’t!” you cut him off angrily, wrenching free from his hold. “Love. Me.”

Levi looks at you as though you’ve just cracked his heart open. “Why would you say that?”

You scoff bitterly. “Why else would you postpone the wedding?” you say coldly before walking away, needing the taste of alcohol in your system more than you wanted to hear his answer.

Ever since you were a child, ever since your father first proposed it, you had been looking forward to the day you turned eighteen. To the day you and Levi would finally get married and he officially became yours and you became his. Even if it was under this life of crime, at least you would have him; you would have each other.

So when you found out a few months before your eighteenth birthday that the wedding wasn’t happening, you were beyond devastated. However, being the reasonable daughter that you were, you accepted the decision with stoic understanding. Expressing discipline and maturity over the matter in hopes that your father would not think of you as childish and immature for sulking around and acting selfishly in front of everyone. So you kept silent, not letting anyone know just how much it bothered you.

Truthfully though, you had always found it rather odd, the way your father had decided to hold off on the wedding with it just being a few months away. You’d had an inkling of who had influenced his decision then, even though you’d always refused to believe it. But given the way Levi has been acting lately…

Well, now you were certain.

“The wedding?” Levi echoes as you reach the bathroom, following you in as you snatch the half empty bottle of alcohol under the sink and popping it open. “That has nothing to do with—”

Levi stops mid-sentence and grabs the bottle in your hands as you raise it to your lips, pulling it away from you before you can take a drink. “Anya!”

Your eyes widen in outrage as you struggle to take it back. “Give it to me!” you demand angrily.

But his hold remains unyielding. “Listen to me!” he says through clenched teeth as he clarifies briskly, “Your father made that decision.” His brows furrow slightly. “I thought you knew that.”

You shake your head as tears of hurt and frustration start lining your eyes and you try to swallow down the lump in your throat. “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it!”

Levi flinches at the conviction in your tone, his voice pained. “Why are you so quick to throw this against me?”

“Because you suggested it first!“ you yell at him reproachfully, yanking the bottle free from his grasp so roughly that some of its content splashes on the floor at your feet. “He was willing to let it take place the day I turned eighteen.” You point an accusatory finger at him. “But you talked him out of it!”

Levi looks stricken. “He told you that I—?”

“Oh, he didn't have to tell me anything,” you say with pure, undiluted venom, approaching Levi the way a wolf corners its prey and forcing him to step back until he’s out of the bathroom. “I could practically hear you talking through him when he told me.”

Before Levi can stop you, you take a swing of the bottle in your hand and welcome the burning liquid that runs down your throat, needing it to stabilize your mind. But it appears you’re far too emotional to be subdued, because in the end, it does little for you. That wretched girl remains lurking within your peripheral vision like an ember in the ashes, flickering bright and refusing to fade.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand—angry, despondent, and brimming with darkness. You’re threatening to unravel, to break. Sheer will is all that’s holding you together. Sheer will and the desire to hurt. To hurt the way you’ve been hurt.

You drag your eyes up to him so he can see the malice burning within them despite your vision blurring with unshed tears.

“But I let it go,” you admit bitterly. “Because I trusted you.”

Levi flinches as he hears the brittleness in your voice. You try to mask it with a dry laugh. “I mean, what reason did I have to doubt your intentions, right? Except… Even now, two years later, my father still refuses. Because of you!”

Your voice breaks at the end and you hastily turn away from him as your fragile emotions betray you and tears start running down your cheeks like a broken faucet. You roughly wipe them away with shaking hands as you start pacing across the room, keeping your distance from him. Trying to regain control.

“How much more of this do I have to take from you?!” you demand roughly, latching onto your anger like a safety net so as to keep your head above water. “How much more do I have to put up with until I am finally given what I’m owed?!”

Levi’s voice is taut as he subtly closes in on you, his eyes trained on you with a hard scowl. “You don't understand.”

You shake your head in disagreement, backing away from him. “No, I understand, Levi. I understand perfectly.” You fight back a sob. “I never said anything before because I kept hoping I was wrong about your feelings for me, but—”

“You are wrong!” he growls, cutting the space between you. “You have never been more wrong.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and pulls you in, grabbing your face and snatching your lips with a desperate kiss. Your eyes instantly flutter shut as you quickly give in to him, unable to contain your stupid longing. You can taste the blood you drew from your punch and the salt of your own tears against his lips as his mouth slides against yours, but you couldn’t care less. Levi’s mouth is hot and consuming as he kisses you with passion and purpose. As if to remind you that the love and attraction you both hold for each other, the burning desire you evoke whenever you’re in each other’s presence, is still there. Has always been there. And always will be.

The bottle of alcohol you had been holding falls out of your grasp as you trade it in for him instead, but Levi swiftly catches it before it can hit the floor and he places it on a table to his left without breaking the kiss. With your hands now free, they run up his chest and around his neck to bring him closer to you.

When he finally does pull away shortly after, you’re left feeling dizzy and breathless and you have to lean against him for support, resting your head against the crook of his neck. But Levi doesn’t allow you time to recover as he tilts your chin back up to look at him, your eyes still half-lidded with yearning.

As he leans in, your eyes fall down to his lips, ready for more. But his mouth forms words instead.

“You have no idea how much I wish to call you my wife,” he says huskily against your lips as his hands slide down the curve of your waist to your hips, tightening his hold to press you against him. “To finally be able to make you mine.”

Your fingers curl against the fabric of his shirt at the possessiveness in his words, at what that entails, before he claims your mouth once more.

“I want that more than anything,” he says in between kisses while his thumbs caress your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “But you have to trust me.”

His voice shifts, turns hoarse.

“It’s not the right time. Not yet.”

You freeze, snapping your eyes open. The fiery longing you’d felt for him seconds ago now cold as ice.

“Time?” you repeat unevenly before shoving at his chest and forcing him to step back. “Time?!” Your face twists into a scowl. “I don’t have time! I am running out of time! Out of time, out of patience—In fact, I’m losing my goddamn mind!”

Frustrated and upset, you roughly shoulder past him and swipe the bottle of alcohol he’d left on the table beside him, needing to drown in it.

Levi tries to stop you, eyes wide in alert and full of concern after the amount of panic and fear he hears in your voice. “Anya, wait! Listen to me—”

“NO!” you cry out angrily, jerking the bottle away from his grasp. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?! I have to do this. I have to or else—”

Levi moves again to touch you, wanting to comfort you and ease your suffering, but you recoil away. “Don’t!”

He halts, looking more pained than you think possible by your reaction as he struggles to abide your command. But his worry for you is too much for him to allow himself to leave you alone.

“Anya, don’t do this,” he pleads softly, taking a calculated step towards you. “Don’t push me away.”

You shake your head with a whimper, staggering back to keep the distance between you while pressing a hand to your forehead. “You don’t understand,” you mutter miserably. There’s too much going through your mind. Too much you can’t explain. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Yes, I do.” Levi’s voice is low, but firm. “More than you know. And I know you’re afraid.”

The confidence in his words shakes you. Levi is far more attuned to your emotions than you are willing to give him credit for. He’s easily picked up on the root of your turmoil, and he knows that if he doesn’t intervene now, he is going to lose you to your demons. But the skeletons in your closet have their claws hooked deeply into your mind. And they refuse to let go.

You frown at him. “Afraid?” You laugh, once, before shaking your head. “No.”

You could not be afraid. If Death was your master, Fear was your servant, and Vengeance, your loyal friend. That’s how it’s been for you for the past twelve years of your life. And that’s how it needs to remain.

“Anya, listen to me,” Levi tells you hastily, sensing your demons fighting for your attention. “I know, better than anyone, what it’s like to be tortured by your own mind.” He offers a hand in front of you for you to take. “Please, love. I need you to let me help you.”

You glance at his open hand in front of you.

Levi is right. He’s the only person who knows what it’s like to live with the kind of trauma you have lived with. No one else understands your grief and suffering better than him. You know that. But you’re far too derailed to listen to reason.

You slap his hand away. “No! Can't you see?!” you cry out desperately. All the darkness is leaking, spilling through the cracks. It's overflowing. “I need him gone already!”

Turning your back on him, you start pacing anxiously across the room while you run trembling hands through your hair.

“I need him to suffer! I need him to pay for all he's done so SHE can leave me alone!”

Taking the bottle in your hand, you throw it against the wall behind you. To where the girl in the bloody dress still stands. She vanishes as the bottle breaks on impact and shattered glass cascades to the floor, leaving an imprint of liquid splattered on the wall. But the sound itself releases you from your unhinged state and your eyes refocus. Only for you to realize with great horror you’ve just openly revealed how messed up you really are. To Levi, of all people.

Ashamed by your own weakness and lack of control, you leave for the door, evading Levi’s gaze. But you’re an idiot for thinking Levi would let you off so easily. Grabbing your wrist from behind before you can get very far, he turns you around and pulls you into his arms, trapping your folded arms against his chest.

“No!”

You try to push him away as tears begin to cloud your eyes again.

“Let me go! I didn’t come for this.”

But Levi’s hold on you only tightens, pulling you closer to him. You’re shaking against him and he knows you’re about to fall apart. But more importantly, he knows if he doesn’t stay close, he is going to lose you. The fact that he is aware of this makes you feel worse.

Your lips start to quiver as you choke back a sob. “Please,” you cry into his chest hopelessly. “Let me go.” But from the way you cling onto the fabric of his shirt with clenched fists, Levi knows you mean the complete opposite.

Unable to fight back the crushing weight of despair any longer, your legs give up on you and you start to fall down to the floor in defeat. Levi swiftly catches you before you do and lifts you off your feet, cradling you against his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs to you in reassurance. “I've got you, I promise.” He kisses your forehead as he moves towards his bed with you nestled closely in his arms while you continue to cry. “I’m never letting you go.”

You’re too distraught to pick up on the unevenness in his voice, let alone register the amount of torment in his eyes by the state you’re in. But even if you could, nothing you said to him would console him.

Because you did not see what he saw. You did not see the way your eyes grew wild and unfocused as your demons threatened to overpower you; you do not know how dangerously close you were to slipping out of his reach.

Without releasing you, Levi gently places you on his bed and keeps you near as he lays beside you, his warmth and familiar scent letting you know you are safe enough to let your guard down. That it’s okay for you to close your eyes and rest.

Because you are tired.

So.

Damn.

Tired.

Eventually your crying subsides as your eyes flutter shut and the heaviness of sleep overtakes you.

With Levi’s hand running down your back in a soothing manner, you drift off to the thought of you feeling better in the morning; even when you know, this is the kind of tired no amount of sleep can fix.

—

You wake up the following morning to angry shouting in the hallway.

The door to Levi’s room has been left ajar and you immediately recognize Levi’s low and rough voice amidst the arguing outside.

”What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he demands viciously. “Who fucking let you in?”

Seconds later, you make sense of Levi’s hostility as you make out Eren’s surprisingly calm reply. ”Is she with you?”

“That’s none of your business,” Levi hisses back coldly.

“Maybe not before. But it is now. Her father has made it clear I’m not supposed to let her out of my sight.”

You hear Levi scoff. “You really think I’m going to allow you anywhere near her? Get. Out.”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you curse under your breath. Throwing Levi’s bedsheets to the side, you rush out of the room to locate them before Levi looses his patience.

As you hastily make your way down the hallway, you round the corner and find the two of them facing off in the middle of the staircase. Based on the way Eren stands a few steps below Levi, Eren must have been making his way up the stairs in search of you when Levi caught him halfway to the second floor and blocked his path.

They don’t notice you approaching. Their attention is focused solely on each other, but even from this distance you can make out the scowl lining Levi’s features as he stares down at Eren with tense muscles, completely triggered by his presence.

You frown slightly at this. Levi’s usually a lot more in control when it comes to confrontations. So what is it about Eren that’s got him so on edge?

“Levi?” you call to him gingerly, not wanting to startle him as you emerge within their line of sight. If only because the shoulder holster Levi visibly wears over his white long sleeved shirt carries guns under each arm, and though Eren wears a simple long coat over a white button-up shirt, you know there’s no weapons concealed underneath—not that he would even know how to handle one.

They both turn in your direction as you make your way to them.

“Go back to bed,” Levi says tightly before flicking his eyes back to Eren, starting down the stairs towards him in slow, menacing strides. But you rush forward and reach for Levi’s hand, stopping him in his tracks before he can take more than a few steps.

“Come with me,” you beckon to him in a sultry voice, needing to ease the tension between them before it turns murderous. “It’s too early for this.”

You sense Eren watching below with a clenched jaw as your fingers tilt Levi’s chin towards you affectionately to draw his attention onto you. Levi’s features soften momentarily at your touch as you caress his cheek, and when his eyes flicker to your lips, you’re convinced you’ve won this fight.

Until Levi takes your hands in his and pulls them away from his face.

“I will,” he says to you earnestly, before turning his head over his shoulder to lock eyes with Eren. “Just as soon as I take out the trash.”

Your hands fall languidly at your sides as Levi moves out of your reach. You sigh heavily at his stubbornness, but follow closely after him down the stairs nonetheless.

Out of heed, Eren draws back into the foyer as your fiancé reaches the last set of stairs. Not once taking his eyes off Eren. But you note the fire in Eren’s emerald eyes that always seems to burn brighter and more fiercely whenever you’re concerned and you’re right to expect retaliation.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable,” Eren tells Levi through gritted teeth. “Her father made his orders clear.”

Levi smiles darkly beside you, subtly reaching for his gun. “You may have his favor, but he never granted you his protection.”

Before Levi can draw out his weapon, you reach out to stop him. “Levi, that’s enough. He gets the point. Let him leave.”

But Eren proves you wrong as he scoffs at Levi with disdain. “So you’d rather leave her to her own devices? Unprotected and alone, all because you can’t stand the fact that her father assigned me to look after her instead of you?” He then adds sourly, “I thought you actually cared for her.”

The second Levi tries to lunge for Eren you put yourself in front of Levi’s path and shove against his chest, pushing him back. “Levi, stop! Stop! Listen to me!” Steering his attention away from Eren, you yank Levi’s collar towards you and lean in, hissing low enough for only Levi to hear. “For whatever reason, my father wants him alive. You can’t kill him. Not yet.”

You can feel Levi resist against you as you force him to step back, his muscles tense under your hands and his teeth bared as he glares at Eren behind you. Though you’re also mildly aware that if Levi really wanted to, he could easily move you out of the way at any time and unleash his full wrath onto Eren. Yet he doesn’t.

You look hastily over your shoulder. ”Eren. Go.”

“But—”

“Now!”

Eren throws Levi one last look before reluctantly turning on his heels to reach for the front door and shutting it closed behind him.

With Eren finally out of Levi’s sight, you raise an eyebrow at your fiancé expectantly. “Care to tell me what that was all about?”

Levi turns away with a shake of his head and rakes a hand through his hair. “Bloody bastard.” He keeps a safe distance from you as he starts pacing across the foyer, trying to shake off his anger. ”I don’t care what Ymir says. Like hell I’m allowing that piece of filth take up room and board in here.”

He starts for the door again, either fully intent on telling the guards stationed outside to not let Eren in again or to finish Eren off once and for all. Either way, you step in his path and make him halt.

”Why are you getting so worked up over him?” you ask Levi coyly, making him tense as your hands slide up his chest and around his neck to pull him in closer. “He’s hardly worthy of a threat.”

Levi’s hands rest at your waist. At first with the intention to push you aside, but once he finds you’re closer than he can handle, his hold on you tightens, drawing you nearer as his eyes fall down to your lips.

Mildly surprised by his quick surrender, you lean in first, thinking this will distract him from thinking about Eren. You hadn’t thought your seductive charm would work on him the way it did with others so easily, but the second your lips collide with his, he winces and pulls away, and you find yourself with doubt.

“Fuck,” he hisses, gently touching the bruise on his lip with his fingers. He snaps his eyes to you with a frown.

This is your fault, his eyes seem to say to you.

The corner of your lip twitches, relieved that’s the sole reason for his reaction. You shrug innocently. “What? You deserved it,” you say matter-of-factly before leaning in again. He lets out another grimace when you do, but despite the pain he kisses you back.

You smile against his lips in triumph as your fingers glide up under his shirt, tracing up his spine to the wings of his shoulder blades.

He shudders and presses more tightly against you, deepening the kiss.

But then he abruptly breaks away a few seconds later, and you frown at him—hating when he does this. You try leaning in again but Levi captures your chin between his fingers and keeps your head back so you can meet his penetrating gaze.

“What you said to me last night,” he says to you sternly, almost angrily. “Do you really believe that?”

You raise an eyebrow as your eyes flash in understanding. So this is why he is acting this way. Your words have been eating away at him, making him question everything and sending him haywire.

His eyes search yours desperately, thinking he’ll find his answer there, but you don’t let him look for long. You move his hand gripping your chin to the side so you can draw nearer.

You softly caress his lips as you murmur to him in a teasing manner, “I said a lot of things last night.” Your lips move down his jawline. To his neck. “But there’s only one thing I want to remember right now.”

Expressing your need for him is all the reassurance he needs as a lusty impulse overtakes him and he shoves you roughly against the wall, swallowing your gasp with a violent kiss.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly against your swollen, bruised lips his mouth leaves in its wake. “You know that, right?”

When you don’t reply—too busy you are latching onto his lips to form words—you feel him try to pull away again.

“No,” you groan petulantly, digging your nails into his shoulders to keep him in place so he can keep going.

Eager to please you, he lifts you off the ground and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. With you in this position, he has better access to your neck and he starts sucking at the sensitive spot there until it bruises. You moan, arching against him, driving your fingers through his hair.

Levi shivers at your touch but he doesn’t pull away until he’s seemingly satisfied with the claim he’s left against your neck, marking you his. Even then he still keeps you close as you sense his eyes on you, knowing he’s admiring your flushed cheeks and the blissful effect he has over you.

“You believe me?” he asks hoarsely against your skin. “I love you.”

Your gaze slides down to him with half-lidded eyes, your heart racing. He’s watching you intently, pupils dilated, urging you to respond.

“I believe you,” you mutter over the pounding in your ears.

And you do. You really do believe he thinks he loves you. But… does he even know what love is? Is his love and your love even remotely the same?

Levi’s hands suddenly grab your hips and places you back on the ground. His expression hardening as his eyes lock on yours.

“Then unless you plan on torturing me,” he says, his voice rough with lingering desire, “don’t ever say that to me again. Do you understand? I don't ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth or I swear I’ll punish you worse than this.”

Not waiting for a reply, Levi brushes past you and disappears out the front door.

You blink and stand there for a second, lost in a haze of desire. Feeling his absence immediately as he’s left you aching for more—more of his touch, his lips, his warmth.

Him.

You throw your head back and let it rest against the wall behind you as your racing heart tries to drop back down to normal.

You’ve survived many things in your life: poison, bullet wounds, stabbings, snipers, assassins. But the effect Levi has on you, even after all these years together…It both thrills and terrifies you because you don’t know if you’ll ever possess the strength to survive him.

—

With your father unable to trust you under the same roof as your cadre, Levi is the only one permitted in and out of your home. For this reason you expect to spend your days alone until however long this punishment lasts. But you’re surprised Levi doesn’t leave your side for longer than a few hours and spends the first few days with you without question. Though you suspect it’s less because he wants to make up for lost time with you and more to do with wanting to keep a close eye on you given your breakdown—and to keep Eren at bay.

Countless times Levi tried getting you to talk to him about what happened in his room. But that was a topic you refused to talk about if you could help it. When he would try and press a bit further, you would either change the subject or walk out of the room. Refusing to relive those moments again and have to accept just how unstable your mind really was. Levi, not wanting you to end up pushing him away completely if he kept on insisting, respected your wishes and stopped bringing it up.

Needing to keep yourself preoccupied to save yourself from boredom, you spend the majority of your time in the basement. Either practicing your combat skills alone or with Levi as your opponent.

How productive these fighting sessions actually were was another matter since they always seemed to lead to either you or Levi pressed against the wall or pinned on the floor—the sexual tension between the two of you that always stirred during practice, would grow far too wild and uncontrollable to stifle for long. But Levi was always able to restrain himself and leave before it could get too heated. Whether he was still punishing you for what you said to him before or not, in the end you were always left flustered and annoyed.

Furlan awkwardly walks in on you both during one of these evening sessions looking for Levi.

Both of you hear the door to the basement open which distracts Levi, but you take advantage of this and manage to disarm him and pin him under you. You hear Furlan step inside seconds later and Levi turns his head in the direction of the door. But you straddle Levi anyway and catch your fiancé’s attention as you bring your lips to his.

While Furlan makes his way down the stairs calling out Levi’s name (and stuttering uncomfortably when he finds you on top of his boss), Levi is quick to wrap an arm around you and flip you over on your back, his body hovering on top of you.

“Behave,” he hisses to you in warning before leaving you to deal with Furlan outside.

You wait a few minutes for Levi to return. When he doesn’t, you make your way up the stairs to your room for a shower which is how you catch Levi and Furlan talking in the foyer. They both turn to you as you pass before they resume their conversation shortly after. Nevertheless, you don’t need to hear their conversation to know what this ultimately means.

Once out of the shower, you find Levi sitting on your bed, waiting for you in his usual dark suit, black leather gloves, and wool coat. He looks handsome, clean-cut, and powerful. Like he is about to attend some important business dinner with some clients to seal a deal for your father’s company. But underneath it all, you know, he’s armed with weapons, assuring you these clients of his are anything but reputable.

You don’t miss the way Levi’s eyes run down your figure as you appear before him in a sheer ivory night gown, but you’re in no mood to satisfy him. Planting yourself against the frame of your bathroom door, you cross your arms over your chest with a raised brow.

“You’ve been summoned,” you say in a clipped tone. A statement not a question.

Levi rises to his feet and crosses the room towards you when you refuse to get any closer.

“I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t have to,” he tells you with a pained expression, reaching out to secure a gloved hand behind your neck to press your foreheads together and another gloved hand at the small of your back. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

His eyes fall to your lips and he leans in, eager for a taste of you, but you press your hands against his chest, stopping him before he can.

“I’m being punished enough, don’t you think?” you say more harshly than you intend. But it’s true. He can’t just kiss you so flippantly and expect you to patiently wait for him until he returned. You’re right to be angry. You were just getting used to his constant presence in your life, making you believe he’d finally chosen you over everything else.

Now your insides were prickling with that treacherous feeling of being left unwanted all over again. Because of him.

Levi swallows, struggling to accept your wishes, until he eventually pulls away. “You’ll stay here, right?”

His expression turns serious as he meets your gaze. “I’m not going to be hearing from my men later tonight telling me that you’ve run off, will I? I can trust you to stay home while I’m away?”

You tsk, pulling out of his hold as you hear scratching and meowing coming from the door to your room. “Even if I told you I plan on escaping the second you leave, you’re still walking out that door.”

Levi works his jaw, eyes clouding with guilt as you brush past him. “This isn’t like that,” he insists through clenched teeth. “I’m not choosing this job over you.”

“Of course not,” you mutter dryly, reaching your bedroom door. The second you open it, a four-legged black furball rushes in and jumps onto the foot of your bed. Bear circles your bed and meows, calling you to join him.

Levi sighs heavily and begins to approach you at the door. “Look, I know you hate this. And I know you hate feeling caged and powerless, but you have to understand—”

“Levi,” you cut off sharply. ”I was joking.”

Levi frowns, looking dubious.

Nevertheless, you signal to the door you hold open in front of you. “Go. I’ll be here when you return, alright?”

Levi glances at the door and then back to you, knowing when he’s being dismissed. Slowly, he makes his way out the door, lingering for a moment longer at your door’s threshold. “I’ll be back before morning.”

“Right. Fine,” you reply back curtly, almost impatiently.

The second Levi turns his back on you and steps into the hallway, you shut the door to your room and lock it behind him.

You wait until his footsteps recede, trying to calculate how long it will take for him to make his way out of the house before you can change out of your nightgown and into the clothes you’d prepared while Levi had been downstairs talking to Furlan.

Did you lie to Levi when he’d asked you to stay put?

Technically, no.

You did say you would be here when he returned, and that, you most certainly plan to do. And though you were genuinely upset that he had chosen to leave, you had also been prepared for it. In the brief moments Levi hadn’t been home babysitting you during your first few days in confinement, you had taken advantage of his absence to make your rounds around the corners of the house, peering outside the windows to inspect where the guards were stationed for any blindspots, while also taking note of all their shift changes.

Tonight Jean and Connie are on duty amongst Levi’s guards. But they’re also ordered not to let you leave so you can’t rely on the chance they’ll turn a blind on you if they come into contact with you. Still, they guard one of the areas behind the house where you have a better chance of sneaking away unnoticed. Your plan is to use the few minutes it takes them to change shifts with the next guards on patrol to slip away, leaving you about fifteen minutes to get ready before that happens.

As you change into some dark trousers and a simple white-collared blouse, Bear claims his spot next to your pillow and curls in on himself, thinking you’re getting ready for bed and will join him soon enough. But unbeknownst to him, it will be a long while before you get any sleep — and before your four-legged friend does either.

Once you’ve draped a long dark coat over your shoulders, you move to put on a newsboy cap to help obscure some of your facial features with the shadows of the night.

It was a little past seven in the evening, but if you managed to catch the train before eight, you just might make it before your young friend in the Karane’s district leaves the Northlake Garden Park.

Keeping close ties with Erwin’s son was imperative to your plans and you’d already broken the promise you’d made to him of returning back the week before so he could play with Bear again.

In your need to travel light, you select your weapons carefully before securing them on your person and in their respective holsters, leaving the knife Levi had gifted you for last and adjusting it in its sheath under your sleeve in your right forearm. Trying not to think of this as a betrayal to him.

Though it’s not like you’re dismissing his concerns. Your lack of fear towards death has given you a track record of acting recklessly, true; utilizing whatever means necessary so long as it achieves your goal. He has reason to worry over you. But you’ve also got things to do. And you couldn’t keep delaying them just to grant Levi some temporary peace of mind.

Throwing a messenger bag you’d bought off from a newspaper kid a while ago across your body, you approach your bed and scoop Bear inside, securing the flap over him so that only his head can peek out from the side. You offer him a treat when he stays put without a fuss and you wrap the rest of his treats in a tissue before stuffing it in one of your pockets, for the road.

You reach for your door, ready to step out of your room in the direction of the stairs to head out through the back door in the kitchen.

And you would have.

Had there not been a dark haired figure with Ackerman blue-grey eyes staring back at you from the dim lighting of the hallway, startling you.

But it’s not Levi’s familiar deadpan gaze that has you pinned in place.