Chapter Text
As dreadfully predicted, Marley would engage in war with the Southern Nations. The rivaling territories, growing greedy for precious luxuries and land, began to march forward with sharpened weapons and enraged cries. The three Kingdoms of Marley were still building themselves back up from the plague that had infected them the worst and fearing for their people, they pleaded for help from friends. All three Kingdoms of Paradis were swayed by their vulnerability and offered the most loyal and strongest Knights that would battle alongside them.
Ships along the coast of Maria were packed full of supplies necessary for such a treacherous journey. Knights who were leaving, new and old, bid farewell to friends and family. Tears streaked cheeks, promises that would never be fulfilled were spoken, and the villages throughout the island thinned in a way that felt eerie.
Before Jean could leave the castle grounds and fulfill his duty, he paused when a familiar voice broke through the anxiety-riddled air. Dressed in his robes, plated armor adorning along arms and peeking calves, shoulders even broader with pauldrons, Jean truly looked indestructible. But his heart, pumping steadily with fear and longing, quickened when he caught sight of Armin’s approaching figure. Turning around to fully face the breathtaking blonde, he placed his hand over his heart with respect.
Squeezing his trembling hands together, Armin sucked in a quick breath before he spoke steadily. “Kneel, Sir Jean.”
Obediently, he knelt and lowered his head. Listening to his shoes that slid across the stone, Jean curiously stared at the proximity between their bodies. He tensed with nimble fingers teased beneath his chin and guided his head to tilt up. Jean’s tenebrous irises flickered across Armin’s unreadable face, one he decided to map out carefully as if it would be the last time seeing his rounded cheeks, forever red-tipped nose, and cascading locks that framed his beautiful features.
Focusing on his task, Armin tugged at his cloak and loosened it. Gathering the fabric firmly in one hand, he carefully guided an item to hug the weighted material that would keep it in place with the other. He ignored the way Jean was trying to read him, definitely basking in him the way he was with Jean, but Armin knew better than to indulge in his selfish desires any further. Jean had a role he needed to fulfill. He dubbed him as Knight to not only protect him, but to protect the island of Paradis and those that sought help. Jean was not fully his in the way he craved for.
Once Armin took a step back, he couldn’t help himself to curiously take a peek at his gift. A golden penannular brooch, detailed with polished sapphires kept his cloak in place. Sapphires were extremely valuable and only worn by the higher classes like high-ranking Lords and especially royalty. Having something like this in his possession- a gift that Armin bestowed upon him- he began to stutter in protest.
Raising his hand, silently shushing Jean into submission, Armin opened his mouth and soon closed it. His eyes glistened with sadness and he turned his head away to collect himself. When he finally spoke, his voice edged with longing. “I do not want to receive news that my Knight was killed on the battlefield, though that may be a great honor for your land and especially your family… You are irreplaceable to me, Sir Jean.”
“As your chosen Knight, it is my duty to fulfill my job protecting you until the very end and the end does not include my death on the battlefield. I will do my very best to stay alive, Your Grace,” Jean promised. Pushing off of the ground, his chin lowered further and further until he stood at full height. Continuing to cup over his heart, his itching fingers rose until they rested over the golden penannular brooch.
Tilting his head, taking the smallest step forward, he spoke softly. “Say my name before you go. I want to know what my name sounds like on your tongue.”
“Armin,” Jean breathed.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached out and rested the tips of his fingers on his sword. “Say it again. Please ?”
“Armin.”
“ Jean ...”
But the way Armin sang his name, it was clear he was pleading. His name could have easily been replaced with ‘don’t go’ and fuck he wanted to obey. He wanted to stay and follow his order, but for the first time in his life, he disobeyed.
Gazes interlocked, one set of lungs shakier than the others, Jean forced his foot back and he turned on his heel when the last bell rang for departure. He marched out of the castle and to the docks that would take him away for several months with no word on his current condition, but only of what losses and gruesome fights all sides were facing. Constantly on the lookout for him, Armin would stand on pins and needles while he ruled his Kingdom to keep his lingering people at bay.
.
Several long months dragged on.
The Southern Nations surrendered and Marley won, maintaining its borders.
Armin eagerly stood at the opening of his library, eyes wide and desperately taking in the sight of his arriving ships. It became apparent the numbers had dwindled drastically and he ridiculously wondered just how long it would take to rebuild his grand ships again.
“I am sure Sir Jean is on one of those ships.”
Rubbing his arm beneath his robe, Armin sheepishly peered over his shoulder. Glancing back at the freckled man who lingered behind, the blonde smiled in greeting. Marco had taken Jean’s place while also training up new Squires during the absence of most of the older Lords. They had grown close during his Knight’s absence to war, exchanging pleasantries and secrets, but not in the way Armin did with Jean. At least to a certain degree.
“I know, but I worry… he may not be the same,” Armin admitted.
“Not every person that returns is the same,” Marco murmured. Walking around the desk full of unsigned and unread work, he made himself comfortable on the other side of the window. Watching the sails dance in the sea's wind, the boats began to steadily grow in size and the energy in the nearby villages increased. “Some agonizing and wail and I have heard rumors that some end their-”
“That is not making me feel better about-”
“-let me finish, Your Grace,” Marco gently interrupted. Leaning against the wooden panel, he held his worried gaze with such gentleness, it allowed Armin’s shoulders to steadily weaken. “Through the thick and thin of training, praying, and reminding himself of his responsibilities, Jean has followed the code of conduct; faithful, courageous, and gracious. He shows mercy, humility, and unwavering honor. Most importantly, Jean has never dared to question Your Grace and has followed your every command, protecting you with his own life. Jean is strong. He will be the same man you have fallen for.”
Squeezing his arm, he smiled in silent gratitude when Marco placed a friendly hand over his shoulder. His blush increased further on his cheeks and he was thankful the taller man wasn't one who teased. They both turned their heads towards the opening of the castle when voices shouted about the arrivals of their ships. Armin eagerly leaned out the window when the ships finally docked.
Time steadily rolled and the streets gradually filled with villagers who were left behind with the returning heroes.
Pleasant cheers filled the air while saddened cries softened their sounds. Surviving Knights held their comrades' precious items and handed them over to the families who had lost their beloved. Smiles and frowns were exchanged, murmuring apologies and greetings touched over shoulders, and some horrified sights of lost limbs and wobbling Knights caught wandering gazes. Those who had battled from the neighboring Kingdoms continued onward for their homes and the streets began to thin.
A familiar figure finally appeared at the entrance of the castle.
Armin covered his mouth to contain his excitement when he noticed Jean was walking in a way he had left him all those months ago.
“Easy, Your Grace. He will come home to you soon,” Marco chuckled. When he was left alone at the window, he smiled softly and waved to gain his best friend's attention. Noticing a distant wave in turn, one that appeared ever so slightly stiff, Marco turned to leave the room. “I will inform Sir Jean you are waiting for him here.”
“Sir Marco,” Armin called out. Gaining a curious glance, he hugged himself to control his fluttering nerves. “Thank you, for protecting me during one of my weakest times. You are a marvelous Knight and a trustworthy friend. Sir Jean has a lot of faith in you too- he talks a lot about you. All good things of course… Take some time off and spend your freedom with Mina, your friends, and your family. You deserve it just as much as everyone else."
With a warm smile, he properly dismissed himself with a bow before vanishing from the room. Marco was just as eager to greet his best friend.
Armin waited impatiently in the library. He aimlessly glanced at the books he had read over a hundred times each. His gaze scanned the polished floor that held so much history of past family members. He attentively sought for the door to open for his precious Knight.
When the door was finally pushed open, Armin caught a clear sight of just how much Jean had changed. His hair had grown considerably, curling and haphazardly pulled back and untamed. His prickly jawline thickened in a way he had always hoped for, though it appeared ungroomed. Heavy bags kissed beneath his tired eyes, but those tenebrous irises were still vibrant with life. Broad body hunched over ever so slightly with his bag over a shoulder, it became apparent Jean hesitated from the mere thought of forcing his aching body to kneel.
Hardly wasting any more time, dismissing his ingrained manners and their rigid roles, he spread his arms wide and brought Jean into a melting embrace. The bag thudded heavily onto the floor and neither one cared if they were going to be caught in each other's arms. Armin clutched onto him for dear life and felt almost the entirety of his weight lean against his smaller frame. Fingers curled into his robe and through his loose locks, shakily embedding themselves in place for as long as possible.
“I am sorry it took so long to greet you, Your Grace,” Jean murmured in greeting. He inhaled and choked back both a delighted sob and a pained groan. The blonde smelled like old books and the Western sea, something that was soothing to his anxiety-ridden mind. Armin smelled like home. “I had to greet my worried mother and deliver belongings to families who…”
Hearing the way he trailed off, afraid and emotionally dulled from conflict, Armin shushed him gently in understanding. He buried his face further into his welcoming chest and he felt the gifted penannular brooch kiss his wet cheek. “It is okay. You were completing your final duties upon returning from war. I knew you would return home and I would have continued to patiently wait for you to greet me if you needed more time with your friends and family.”
“How could I possibly make you wait any longer?” He chuckled. Eventually gathering the remaining energy in his sore body, he pulled back enough to warmly stare down at his face that had hardly changed. He admired cascading, wheat-colored hair, rounded cheeks, forever red-tipped nose, and misty wide eyes that allowed him to know everything he had ever wished for and possibly more.
“I suppose I could have waited just a tad bit more. You reek, Sir Jean,” Armin informed teasingly. Scrunching his nose, his heart swelled with warmth when the sharp-eyed man began to laugh one of the purest laughs he had ever heard. Whatever dark clouds had engulfed him since Jean’s department began to thin and allow the bright sun to shine through.
“Sorry. It was difficult to bathe on the ship with limited supplies and even during the war,” Jean mumbled apologetically. Taking a step back, he groaned while he knelt on the floor with his next task. Raising a hand to calm the blonde from his pained expression, Jean quickly rummaged through his bag. “Before Marley dismissed us from our duty, your royal friends ordered me to deliver these notes of gratitude and promise of gifts at a later date. Also, I sought these out before returning home to you.”
“Prince Reiner, Princess Annie, and King Bertholdt?” He clarified curiously. Earning a firm nod, he reached out and took hold of the folded notes. Briefly glancing at them, Armin’s eyes grew wide from the next items in Jean’s offered hands. Carefully unwrapped and resting against one another, two familiar crowns caused him to cover his mouth to stifle a cry.
“King and Queen Arlert have returned home, Your Grace. I have brought you your family.”
.
The late evening finally rolled around and it seemed like the villages surrounding the castle had finally calmed. After thanking Jean time and time again for bringing his parents back in some shape or form, Armin encouraged him to return home and spend quality time with his family. Promising he would be fine for a couple of hours alone without supervision, the blonde finished the rest of his daily duties before retiring for the day.
Glowing Stone lit the dark hallways and Armin’s bare feet softly thudded along the stone or smoothed wood. He had been tossing and turning in his bed for some time and decided a short walk would allow him to clear his mind. Armin didn’t understand why he was so restless- Jean had returned home, along with most of the skilled soldiers and close friends like Eren and Ymir. There was no reason to worry anymore, but an obnoxious buzzing in his head kept him awake.
His ears perked when he heard another sound of footsteps approaching from a crossing hall. Pausing and raising his head, he smiled softly when Jean came into view. The taller man blinked in surprise and with a few twists of his head, Jean approached him with a curt bow.
“Your Grace, what are you doing wandering the castle?” He whispered. Squeezing the clean fabric in his hand, Jean tried his best to keep still. The brown-eyed man desperately wanted to look much more presentable than how he greeted Armin and after celebrating with his mother and earning congratulations from Knights and Squires who stayed, he was finally allowed some sort of privacy.
“I could not sleep,” Armin answered. Cocking his head, taking in the sight of fresh clothes in one hand, his gaze flickered up. “Why are you wandering the castle?”
“I was heading towards the baths. You said I reek and I will admit I feel quite grubby.”
Flashing an amused smile, the blue-eyed man turned his body away. Keeping contact, he raised his hand and beckoned Jean to follow. “I see. Follow me for a moment, please?”
Quietly obeying, their soft steps filled the empty hallways. Twisting and turning, Jean paused every time the shorter man stopped moving to take a quick look around. They both knew the guards were changing shifts and it gave Armin the perfect chance to push Jean into his room. Nobody would catch sight of a Knight who had never stepped foot inside his King’s chambers without a direct order.
Watching him stiffen and grow wide-eyed, like a dear catching sight of a piercing bow, Armin chuckled. With the castle's age, the rooms had steadily evolved and gained more possessions. Oil paintings, most of Jean’s gifted drawings, and open windows facing the coast adorned the walls. Glowing Stone hung above, cascading elongated shadows in the wide room. An aroused hearth was warming a pot of water across the way from the grand bed, a detail that encouraged Jean to grow cautiously more confused.
“I will pour you a warm bath,” Armin admitted softly, giving up his luxury for the night. Tossing a hand in the direction of the large wooden tub, his eyes glinted with amusement when the taller man stuttered.
“Y-Your Grace, you do not have to be so generous and-”
“Sir Jean, are you defying my order?”
Frowning and growing slack, he squinted. Jean was too exhausted to protest any further and he mumbled his answer. The usual public bath would have been a luxury to him from the endless weeks of suffering, but a private bath that was warm? Jean had died and ascended to the Heavens above. Especially since Armin was offering.
Making sure Armin could properly handle the near-boiling pot of water, Jean laid his clean clothes off to the side so he could undress. They both attended to their individual chores without a hint of embarrassment; Armin warmed the body of water and sought a bar of soap while Jean immediately slouched over the wooden wall of the tub in complete submission. His hand had a near-death grip on the edge and the smallest of pained hisses fell between gritted teeth.
“ Ngh , fuck…”
Dragging a stool close to the side, Armin watched in concern and he finally allowed his eyes to wander. With the flickering heat from the dying fire, he took in the detail of streaking marks that had mostly healed while others were still red and scabbed over. They stained across Jean’s broad back and he knew very well there were plenty more across his limbs and front. Noticing a particular one on his shoulder blade, oozing and barely dipping beneath the water's surface, Armin frowned deeply.
He was brave, cocky, and his tongue was sharp. He held his head high and charged forward after analyzing the current situation. He was a true leader and plenty of Knights followed his orders and plenty of Squires admired him. But now? The one who he thought about every waking moment? The one man who captured his whole heart and encouraged him to pray and cry every night till he saw him alive? Jean looked beaten, old, and physically and mentally drained.
Jean had never looked weak in his eyes before and he desperately wanted to nurture him back to health.
Eventually feeling every muscle in his tense body relax, he slouched even further. Propping his head into his bent arm, Jean sucked in a slow breath and he kept his eyes closed in embarrassment. "I am healing, Your Grace. It will take me some time to replenish my energy in a way that I will be able to protect you… I wish you could not see me in this sort of light.”
"You came back to me alive and in one piece. I do not mind the condition you are in. There is nothing to be ashamed of, okay? I am honored to know that you trust me to this depth. Take all the time you need to heal,” Armin soothed tenderly. Rolling his sleeves around his elbows, the blonde guided Jean lower so he could run his fingers through his greasy hair. “Let me take care of you, Jean.”
He didn’t dare protest his generous offering. Laying dead weight in the warm water, he basked in the way the soap was guided through his lengthened strands and carefully around his face. Jean wanted to cry from the way he was being treated- it was so foreign compared to the endless months of harsh treatment on the battlefield; Swords piercing through his uniform, arrows grazing his skin, enemies grasping at limbs and begging for forgiveness while baring teeth and falling comrades wailing their final words.
"What is that?" Jean slurred. After properly bathing and being easily hypnotized by Armin’s caring hands, he eventually sat on the abandoned chair. His body still ached, but most of the stress had melted off of his shoulders and the true pain in his frame began to register. Peering over his bare shoulder, partially dressed, he eyed the small dish Armin was fingering. The blonde was standing behind him and he eventually registered his touches after several elongated smears.
"Honey. The surgeon provided it for me while you were drying and dressing. I do not wish for you to grow ill and Hanji promised this would help the process,” Armin informed. Rubbing the sticky sweetness over the wound he had properly cleaned, he quickly leaned away and rinsed his fingers in the bath. Armin began to blush at his next words. "Stay in my chambers tonight."
Jean practically jumped after slipping on his shirt. Blushing darkly, he stuttered almost incoherently. "I-I cannot do such-"
"Are you defying my orders again?"
Again.
Growing rigid with regret, Jean puckered his lips in a tired pout. His gaze wandered off to the side and he gave the grand bed a look of longing. Not even the bed he possessed in the Knights quarters looked this irresistibly and sinfully attractive. But the one thing that truly grabbed him by the heart was sharing it with Armin- the man that kept him alive every single day away from home.
"No. I am not. I just… I feel like I am being spoiled with luxuries that I believe I do not deserve. There are and were so many more Knights who deserve such attention,” Jean confessed beneath his breath. When the blonde came into his view, guiding the layers of blankets down and fluffing furred pillows, he took a heavy step forward from his shy confession.
"But they are not my Knights in the way that you are my Knight. I want to spoil you and no one else."
Eventually laying side by side, staring and admiring one another, their quickened hearts matched. Vibrant blue and tenebrous brown took in the detail of reddened cheeks and swirling strands of hair that perfectly framed faces. Jean held his breath and his eyes fluttered when soft fingertips followed the flow of his sharp jawline. A warm palm cupped his cheek and it took everything in his willpower to not turn his head and kiss it.
"Touch me, Jean."
He didn’t dare waste any time. His fingers faintly trembled and his second knuckles brushed over his hot cheek. He traced every inch of Armin’s face with his calloused digits, indulging in his desire to embrace every part that made his heart swell with warmth and his stomach flutter with obnoxious butterflies. Amidst fur and some of the finest sheets, Armin looked so pure and perfectly sculpted from any imperfections.
"My hands are covered in blood. I sent my people away and many died. I am not as pure and innocent as you think I am,” Armin whispered. Interrupting his thoughts that were displayed on his gentle features, his lashes lowered from the lulling feel of Jean’s hand cupping the back of his head. A firm thumb rubbed just behind his ear and he desperately wanted to turn his head and kiss his palm.
He hummed to acknowledge his words before he spoke, his voice low and rumbling. "There were many lives taken by these hands. They are forever tainted red in my eyes. I am the devil in this bed… You are lying with a devil, Your Grace.”
“A devil does not follow a rigid code as a Knight does. He is not faithful, courageous, and gracious. He does not show mercy, humility, and unwavering honor. You are very human,” he said honestly. Leaning his cheek into a rough palm, Armin’s expression stayed neutral when a thumb ran the length of his nose. “You were protecting our friends and their homes. You understand that the people on the other side are just as human as you are. Jean, I would say you are the Perfect Knight and that is one of the highest honors a man could ever be complemented with.”
“You are too good to me,” Jean exhaled.
“And you are too good to me."
Stilling his affectionate hand, Jean silently cursed at how hot his face grew. He immediately glanced away and tried to ignore the way the heat spread down his chest and to his ears. “That is because-... I am surprised."
"By what?"
"There are rumors that a King normally has friends who sleep with him," Jean mused, distracting them both.
His brows pinched and he frowned. Armin couldn't predict or understand where the conversation was going. "Friends?"
Flashing his signature grin, he pulled his hand away and allowed his fingers to dance across the thick furs. "Yes. Minuscule creatures that imbed themselves within the layers of fabrics and fur. I believed such rumors for so long."
Armin’s soft giggles turned into elongated chuckles and shook his head in disappointment. Pinching his cheek, he scrunched his nose playfully when he gained a fake glare. "I am a very clean person. Bugs disgust me. If we are talking about people and their bed bugs, I would suggest looking at Eren's chambers."
"I know he has them. Sometimes I see them hop off of his body,” Jean snickered. When he was struck with another idea, he gasped and lowered his voice, as if the stubborn green-eyed man would hear him across the island. “Sometimes he would mumble in his sleep during our years of training… Oh! Sir Eren told them bedtime stories!"
Armin bursted out in a fit of laughter and he muffled his delighted sounds into his pillow. He listened to Jean join and he couldn’t help himself to take in everything. Jean was home, hours fresh from completing a daunting war, but home and laughing with him. His detailed hand cupped the side of Armin’s face and covered his mouth so they wouldn’t be disturbed, though the breezy wind slipped through the open windows. Apparent crinkles caught the corner of his eyes and his lashes easily matched his wide, breathtaking smile.
“Who would have thought you would become comical with me as well?” Armin accidentally said out loud.
His brows raised and he nuzzled his nose into the pillow he was borrowing. “What does that mean?”
“You always save your best laughter and joy with your friends,” Armin admitted. Shrugging from his lingering stare, he allowed his hand to fall and trail south until it rested over Jean’s jittery heart. “I was never blessed with that until now because you are almost always serious with me. I understand it is your duty to protect me and to stay rigid when around others, but I always desire to see more…”
“You do?” Jean pushed on. Cupping his hand which was noticeably smaller than his, he threaded their fingers together. Armin nodded and he hummed in understanding. “Well, I will make sure to be more carefree. I enjoy making you laugh and seeing you smile. Your face lights up like the most radiant of days and it makes the world brighter. Seeing you positively influences my hours and hearing you now, I promise to be more connected with you- I do not wish to ever leave your side again and make your heart ache with despair.”
Sighing in contentment, the blue-eyed man wrapped his arms around him and brought Jean close. He cradled his head against his chest and rubbed soothing shapes along his back. Smiling into his damp hair, Armin hummed in appreciation when his body was guided closer and Jean mirrored his sigh of contentment. Pressed against one another in a way he had always dreamed, his heavy lashes fluttered closed.
Feeling safe, Jean let sleep take him completely. Their limbs tangled beneath the blankets, soft breaths, and rhythmic hearts synchronized. Whenever it seemed like Jean stirred, a nightmare grasping his senses, Armin promised he was safe and kept his arms firmly around the larger man. He combed his hair, whispered sweet nothings, and lulled the both of them back to sleep. They slept into the late afternoon, as did the rest of the Kingdom, all healing and bonding with loved ones and mourning over those who never returned.
When a fleeting warmth kissed his cheek, Armin took a deep breath so he could muster himself away from sleep. Feeling groggy, yet completely energized and full, he blinked awake lazily. Taking in the sight of a small casket in place of Jean's body, a box that normally held trinkets, he forced himself to sit up.
He thumbed the silver edges and opened it curiously. Finding freshly picked forget-me-nots, a braided bracelet of silver, several foreign seashells, and a note, he smiled at the thoughtful gift. Armin unfolded the parchment to trace over Jean's signature writing and his heart swelled from his words of confession.
It didn't take long for him to dress in his royal uniform and comb the long hair that held his crown. Making his way off of the castle grounds while greeting workers and his people, his shoes ventured off of stone paths and onto soft sand.
Seagulls shrieked and danced. Fishermen were hard at work pulling large nets of nutrients. Young children gleefully giggled and squealed at the water's edge. Knights and Squires walked with friends and family, taking advantage of the peace Paradis was so familiar with.
Settling himself at the center of the beach, Armin made himself comfortable on the sand. Crossing his legs and resting a hand on the warmth beneath his body, he tilted his head.
"Normally you follow me on my leisure walks to the shore," Armin spoke smoothly. Glancing off to the side, he smiled mischievously when Jean chuckled. The handsome man settled close to his side and their fingers brushed against one another.
"I am sorry, Your Grace, but I took my brief freedom to acquire us some food?" He offered. Holding out freshly baked bread with his other hand, sweetened with butter and smeared with jam, he smiled tenderly when Armin gasped hungrily.
"Who did you steal this from?" Armin asked. Taking hold of the offered bun, he inhaled slowly and licked his lips from the wafting sweetness. With one bite in, the blue-eyed man was immediately in a food coma and he did his best to eat with manners.
Taking a large bite, he shivered from the way his jaw tingled. His mother had always been a marvelous baker and Jean was thankful he could finally share it with Armin. "My mother greeted me along the way."
"Seeing your mother, being offered food, and gifting me a casket of gifts? You have been very busy for someone who slept in late," he pointed out between bites. Lacing their fingers further, he playfully curled his fingers around his second knuckles and smiled a rather dorky smile when Jean mirrored his actions.
"Busy for you… did you like my offering where I had slept?"
Mostly rested and feeling the island of Paradis begin to piece itself together again, Armin took advantage of their freedom. Taking another bite, he leaned his head back and admired the soft clouds that cast shadows over their home. "Very much so. I thought my heart would burst from your letter of unwavering devotion. You have been infatuated with me since the first time we were alone? In the library?"
Jean blushed and he glanced off to the side. "Well, maybe before that…"
"When you thought of me as a, and I quote, a "pompous fuck"?" He said with a twisted smile. Watching him stutter and almost drop the remaining few bites of food, Armin giggled and tugged at his hand to bring him closer. Their knees brushed against one another and those who were walking by curiously and excitedly glanced their way, but he didn’t care. Armin was in his world with Jean.
"I submitted to you without question. It was my heart who betrayed my mind and I did deeply apologize in my note. I was a fool back then!" Jean huffed harshly.
"You still are at times, Jean. You are cocky and full of yourself."
The sharp-eyed man grumbled under his breath and he bit into his bread to express himself further. Armin’s eyes fluttered closed in victory and his ears perked to listen to their surroundings while they ate in silence.
The flat lands kissed the almost never-ending oceans that were salty and so very welcoming to all. The breeze teased their lengthened hair and tugged at clean clothes. Seagulls shrilled above and swayed with the wind. The people of Maria were attending to their duties rather casually, exchanging pleasantries with one another. Children giggled and squealed, chasing one another on dirt paths that weaved to and from while others splashed at the water's edge.
"... Armin?" Jean called out, questioning if he truly could drop the honorifics. Once their stomachs were filled and their hands became available, they sank into the warm sand. His gaze lowered and he finally noticed that the blue-eyed man was wearing the braided bracelet of silver he gifted him.
Taking in a breath, he almost sang during his whisper. He turned his head inward and glanced at the golden penannular brooch. "Yes, Jean?"
"Does this mean…?" He suggested slowly. Swallowing thickly with rising nervousness, he squeezed his hand.
Armin released a small laugh and slumped his head on Jean’s shoulder. "Of course, it does, you idiot."
"So when did you fall for me?" Jean wondered.
"Gradually since we first met. I did not fall as fast as you, but I believe I have certainly fallen harder for you. I cried many times while you were away. I have dreamt about you time and time again praying you would return as the same Jean that left,” he admitted into his clothes. Armin inhaled Jean’s scent which was similar to a warm forest and he felt any lingering worry vanish, knowing not only the man of his dreams, but his entire family had returned to him.
"You are making my dreams come true by saying that… Can I be greedy and hear you say more?”
“You can always be greedy with me,” Armin chuckled. Bringing their joined hands closed, he kissed his ring finger, and their gazes locked. “Just to let you know, your feelings have always been obvious to me and in turn, I have been desperately trying to encourage you that I have been returning your feelings just as eagerly.”
“You have?” He stupidly stuttered.
Frowning and flashing a blank look, Armin allowed a single brow to raise. “Jean, why do you think I always hinted that you never smile around me and I wanted you to? Or encourage you to ignore your duties and draw for me when we were alone? Borrowing my books in secret? To tuck me in when I have drunk too much? Not to mention you spending the night in my bed and embracing one another?”
“It only became extremely obvious last night,” Jean dully admitted with a sheepish look.
“You really are oblivious,” Armin dramatically sighed. Pulling himself away and noticing Jean frown with immediate longing, he chuckled. The blonde cleaned his hands off before he raised his crown off of his head. As dainty as possible, the circular jewelry rested on top of Jean’s dark wavy locks. “I will state my intentions and make sure you understand this time; I wish to marry you and travel the world, exploring the different landscapes I have only read in my books. I wish to raise a family with you and watch our children grow and take our place so that we may live as carefree as we possibly want. Everything you wrote in that letter is what I want and so much more."
Pleasant tears kissed the corner of his eyes and he smiled tenderly when Armin arched into him again. Those three words that rested heavily on his tongue through all his years of crushing on Armin were finally spoken.
"I love you."
Smiling sweetly, he pressed his forehead against Jean’s and he allowed his mouth to brush against his.
"And I love you."
As soon as their lips slotted, Jean sighed into his mouth and Armin relished his reactions, along with his very own that didn’t take him by surprise. Their first kiss was tender, filled with unwavering adoration and so much more that had been perfectly crafted into something fairytale-like. Hands grasped at one another, innocent and savoring their blossoming relationship.
“I cannot believe it took you a whole war to admit you love me,” Armin teased into his cheek. He was smiling uncontrollably and laughed when Jean’s arms gathered him into a firm hug. Neither one cared about the sand clinging onto their respective clothes or the admiring glances they received.
“Says the one who knew I have loved him for quite some time and never realized how thick my head is,” Jean returned. Nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck, not caring that the crown slipped and hooked over his sheathed sword, he giggled when Armin held a delighted squeal back. His years of hoping, praying, and daydreaming, truly became reality and Jean silently made sure nothing would take away his happiness.
On the island of Paradis, there consists of three Kingdoms:
From North to South along the Eastern coast, the Kingdom of Rose.
Centered on the island, elongated in an awkwardly oval-shaped bowl, the Kingdom of Sina.
From North to South along the Western coast, the Kingdom of Maria.
All three, peaceful and nurturing with one another, all have their own stories to tell. Villagers, Lords, Knights, Squires, the in-betweens, and their respective royal families. But unbeknownst to most, none of their stories come quite close to the Perfect Knight and his Honorable King in the Kingdom of Maria. Through the glimpses of their years growing and overcoming obstacles together and apart, they steadily fell for one another in ways many wished they could in their own lives.
A King and His Knight, Whose Hearts Became One.