Archive of Our Own

The main rule of Paradis kingdom cited the following: women can fight our wars alongside men, but nobles are prohibited from the army altogether. Why? Because Paradis had few and they were all dearly treasured by King Reiss. Less treasured, of course, than the poor women who were tossed into the front lines whenever a battle ensued, securing a human shield for the men. And if one ever happened to wonder why the vast territory of the kingdom was becoming more unpopulated in recent years, this simple rule would give peace to their query.

A strong contrast was created by the neighbouring Marley kingdom, where men fought all wars and even nobles were accepted as worthy warriors, whereas women and royalty were to be treated as precious cargo, locked behind walls and strictness. Money and a receding population were by no means an issue to the kingdom. In fact, the profusion of both was becoming a queer issue in itself. So, one kingdom had low funds and lots of land and the other had little land and big funds. The logical way to approach the situation would include an agreement – a sort of arrangement that would give both beggars what they needed so that, in the end, neither was none the poorer or inconvenienced.

This is where kings and queens agreed to disagree. War was slowly but surely showing on the horizon and it wouldn’t be long before troops were raiding harmless villages full of innocent people for the sake of victory through bloodshed when the suppression of pride and greed would lay the pesky predicament to rest times quicker. The countless advisors of both monarchs had no say in it – or they did, for the worse. Few had connections running deep enough into the royal courts to speculate on that matter. This was where somebody reasonable would choose to avoid violence. And since the royals had sewn their mouths shut, it was only the duty of somebody who cared to speak up instead of them.

That role, dear Krista, I’ve taken upon myself. I have survived a month amongst unfamiliar faces. I assure you of my safety and, hopefully, successful return. I hope you understand me enough to support me and if not, I ask to bind you only to secrecy, not favour. Respectfully, if you shall grant my letter with a response, please do address it to
Your friend,
Christopher the Veiled 

The quiet clinking of armour could be heard as you moved inside it, giving the letter a generous last look before handing it to the man on your right. The sun still had not yet set when you’d picked up your cheap handmade quill and begun dipping it in the inkhorn your companions had lent you; now the light was scarce but more than enough for the man perusing the letter to find in it legibility. When he was satisfied with its contents, he handed it back to you and while the rest gathered at the foot of the big tree spared only each other with careless glances, his eyes watched your armoured fingers fold and carefully place it inside an envelope.

“You’ll leave it on the border, correct?” Your words were addressed to who you’d come to perceive as the leader of the small group of knights – namely, Reiner Braun. The tall blond gave a gruff sound of refusal, then you glanced at the man next to you – a secretive glance that needn’t have been secretive because your helmet hid the direction of your gaze. “We are quite close to it in any case. I could go myself.” The declaration made the knight across from you huff. There were four of them in total – you wouldn’t dare call them enemies – but Porco Galliard always found it in himself to be the first to object to your acts of independence.

“You’re not going anywhere on your own.” His adamant ways never ceased to astound. The same, however, went for his aversion to needless effort. It was then Porco waved a dismissive hand through the air – the sound of armour was not there, as he’d decided it was most comfortable for him to take it off in the evenings. “Eren, you go. I don’t want to get up.” His speech was relatively low but not at all authoritative.

Still, the man on your right gave a quick sigh before standing to his feet and looking down at you – his eyes appeared striking even in the dimness of the eroding sunlight. This was not the first time you’d been handed around amongst them according to the quantity of energy they had. Eren Kruger was never the first volunteer but he never refused when the weight fell on his shoulders. It seemed almost that he took everything with a sense of duty, no matter the triviality of the task.

“Come along, Chris.” His hand gestured and you stood, clenching the envelope as he led you out of the camp hidden in the trees. “You don’t mind Chris, do you?” The question, under normal circumstances, you would’ve considered impertinent as you were used to a certain amount of respect both women and men showed in your presence. You’d struggled greatly to come to terms that no longer applied two months ago and your time with these four knights served as further proof that you’d done well in overcoming that struggle.

“Under the circumstance wherein I am but a hostage, I cannot mind,” you said quietly, surmising the horizon ahead as Eren Kruger chuckled at your side. It wasn’t often you referred to yourself using the truthful term.

You were a long way from the border separating Marley and Paradis and yet, you felt almost at home in spite of wandering a territory you would normally call hostile. The sun was no longer shining a light on the ground and the moon was shy of appearing. Everything was dark and you were looking in the general direction of your kingdom – straight ahead; the castle rested there and behind its heavy walls, your best friend who was most likely anxiously awaiting your next letter. You’d never dare address it to her lest your captors behead you for it.

And slightly to the right from the tower you were confident Historia’s formal dresses were being tended to by her maid you imagined your father’s mansion. You could imagine him in his study, looking over how many funds would be exhausted by the end of the month. You’d do well to write him a letter too and give him a report of how the air by the sea was aiding your health, far from the truth as that was. He’d care not whether you’d gone to the beach or to play a pretend hero in a war that was on the verge of breaking out, but lying to him would let you avoid the outraged reaction you’d get if you confessed to the latter. It was then a strong grip tightened around your armoured fingers like a shackle.

“I am in no need of binding, Sir Kruger. I do not wish to flee from you or fight you.” Your speech was quiet as you both observed the sturdy silhouette of the sign up ahead. If memory aided you well, Marley had put it up when their first group of knights had assumed a defensive position in the woods separating the kingdoms. The hand did not cease its vice grip on yours and you were thankful for the gloom and your helmet both as the lack of either would allow the tall man to glimpse the blistering redness of your countenance.

“I told you a fortnight ago it’s simply Eren.” Yes, of course. Because it was rude and ridiculous for fellow knights to address each other using titles and family names. “And you might have my affections but you don’t have my naivety.” As though to solidify his statement, his fingers squeezed yours tighter – if only to prove they could bring you pain if needed. The bruising hold stayed during the rest of your risk-ridden journey – because trespassing was what got your fellow Paradis knights killed on the night you became Marley’s hostage; but trespassing was needed because Historia was anticipating word from you and you couldn’t let her down.

Thankfully, the Paradis knights had a correspondence post near the border – if only to secure the women used as a line of human shields a little bit of comfort. You’d spoken to some of them during the time you spent training – they’d write letters to husbands they didn’t have or to children their mothers nursed in their absence, never to fathers and mostly to friends to lie that everything was quite alright, they were doing well and they’d most certainly come home. Maybe it was an all-known but never noted fact they wouldn’t. You hated that fact – so well-written on their wan faces it hurt to maintain eye contact even when your countenance was constantly hidden under your helmet. You’d set out on this suicide mission to turn it from a fact into a lie.

“Your mistress is worried about you, I am guessing.” Eren’s low rumbly words made the breath catch in your throat as you were nearing the post. Everything was quiet and even the nearby bushes wouldn’t dare tremble with the unseen presence of a wild animal.

“She is but a friend.” You argued steadily, squinting to find the big wooden box waiting for your letter. In a fit of utmost amusement, Eren Jaeger halted in his quiet step and let out a deeply entertained chuckle.

“Friendship does not exist between man and woman. You and I are more friends than you and she.” You did not dare disprove the irony of his words for it would ruin the purpose of your mission. He took no offence in your silence and instead gave your hand a light tug that drew your attention to the right, where the post lay concealed in the tall bushes. “I am hopeful there is no secret code in your letter.” He muttered gravely once you’d gently let it mingle with the rest. You acknowledged his doubt was there simply for the sake of your intended roles in the war, hence why your response was friendlier than defensive.

“You are rightfully hopeful and worthlessly fretful. I reiterate: I do not wish to flee from you or fight you. I am here to put an end to the useless feud.” Your intentions were voiced for the umpteenth time since you’d joined their group – and still, he did not quite seem to believe, much like the rest, that they were anything but the speeches of an idealistic coward.

“Quite optimistic of you, Chris. It’s been a month so far and I am yet to see the royal orders cease.” He took you for a fool but he was sometimes gentle about it. Like you were a child with a hopeless dream and he was the one who should bring you back to the real world. His tone was playful, condescending in the slightest and you were yet to grow sombre, so you responded in the same manner.

“They shall. If you give me an audience with a royal.” He was still holding onto your hand and you were walking back – quiet footsteps in the dark and now you could observe the horizon in the opposite direction. You couldn’t glimpse the building in the distance, mostly because they were obscured by the woods where the knights’ camps resided.

“You should know to be smarter than to ask for it frankly.” Eren’s quip made you sigh. A second later, your lips had parted and you could hear the rustle of bushes.

“I suppose I should.” Came the despondent response, right before you caught the sound of faraway footsteps. This was the only advantage of the motionless weather. “Take cover.” Your fingers instinctively curled around his and you pushed him in the direction of the tall bushes. The only reason his knees gave way and brought him to the ground was the element of surprise.

Your armour was heavy and Eren, having reached for his knife expecting an attack for you, stilled as you listened to the distinct footsteps. Your bodies were concealed by the greenery and the gloom, heartbeats racing despite the fact that neither dared do as much as breathe. You had no way to observe the predicament you were in so you could only hope it would pass. It took a while – the knight nearing you was in full armour, judging by the sharp metal clinking with every step he made. He made no attempt to near the correspondence post, so he might’ve been doing a last scout of the vicinity before he retired for the day. Either way, it was not long before his footsteps came frighteningly close without giving any sign of haste then slowly faded.

“You should know to be smarter than to put a knife to my throat after I saved you.” When no sound could be heard, you noticed the glimmering dagger’s tip settled right under your helmet – had it not been in the way, you would’ve been able to stare pointedly at its owner. The weapon withdrew and the man under you seemed, even in the gloom, a shade redder in unexpected shame.

“I suppose I should.” He muttered despondently as you rose to your feet. His eyes were glued to the back of your head and he couldn’t help thinking the body under the heavy armour had been surprisingly light on top of him. Clearing his throat and not reaching for your hand a second time, he tilted his head in the direction of your camp. “Let us return and feed.” That much you did, although your late return made Berthold’s hands tug at your wrists as Reiner’s reproachful gaze prodded at your faces.

“Get down, fools. Porco was about to go looking for you.” The blond knight’s voice was harsh and worried and you were seated on the ground, voicing your apologies in a formal manner as Eren rolled his eyes to your right. “Please, Christopher. I am known as Sir Braun only in the woman's mouth.” Reiner’s comment made you redden under the helmet as it was hard to be rid of old habits but you had to ignore your life-long lessons if you wanted your secret uncovered.

“Yes,” your voice strained. “Nevertheless, your valiant knight failed to notice my comrades at the border and we had to take cover.” Eren repeated the action of rolling his eyes at your taunt but held his tongue when it came to giving a response. His silence only gave your explanation validity, which made the knights relinquish their doubts.

“The more we sit idly here, the more I feel we should launch an attack. It is quite useless to wait for orders.” Porco ruffled his hair with a frustrated grunt as Berthold handed him, on a worn-down wooden plate, the leftovers of today’s hunt. Reiner’s potion was next, followed by Eren, who took it with a nod of gratitude.

“We are here to guard. No word of attack has been given.” His head was always bowed when he spoke of orders but his words were always strong and devoted. His timid loyalty, you’d understood quite quickly, contrasted greatly with Porco’s eager service, Eren’s stubborn duty and even Reiner’s valiant knighthood. Reiner would be the knight stories are later told of but Berthold would be the man in the armour who always stuck to orders.

Silence settled when the tall brunet handed you a dish and your hushed words of gratitude were followed by the low sounds of spoons scraping against plates. You paused and turned your back to everybody, carefully lifting the helmet off your head and placing it near your feet. Your gauntlets joined it and you were staring down at the swathe wrapped round your hands for the sole purpose of preventing the men from noticing the lack of calluses and rough skin. Your fingers gently moved the bandages away from your mouth before grabbing the spoon. The only meal you consumed was the one after nightfall and though they never commented on it too much, they’d noticed the bandages and had probably rightfully assumed they covered the entirety of your body.

“Too shameful you are, like a damsel almost.” Porco’s voice was heard in the silence, making your shoulders grow rigid in anxiety. Reiner and Berthold chuckled along to his taunt. “Show us those fearsome scars you so carefully bind in your solitude.” He urged challengingly, to which the spoonful of leftovers got stuck in your throat. You swallowed thickly.

“I have told you I am but too disgusted with them. I do not wish for anybody to see them.” The excuse slipped out with a waveringly proud hardened voice. Your vocal cords were straining but you would never let them see – not for fear of scars, rather for the lack thereof.

“Tis truly a pity. Must be some fearsome marks, indeed. From twice as fearsome fights, I am sure.” Reiner was nodding along, arms crossed upon his chest as he confidently justified your shame. Your jaw clenched and you could hear Berthold and Porco whispering in agreement. And from next to you, it was the sound of Eren’s spoon quietly being rested against the plate that made you gather enough courage to conjure a lie that came closer to the undignified truth.

“In truth, men, you give too much weight to them. They are simply the unfortunate result of a fire.” The low confession made all four of them halt their eating. You kept chewing but the food tasted like ashes and dirt, even though it was relatively fresh and deliciously smelling. You had to eat to survive, not to take pleasure in it. By the time you were halfway done, they’d left their initial stupor.

“A fire?” You heard Berthold’s unbelieving voice behind your back. “Do you speak the truth?” Your lips pursed and your eyes narrowed in the gloom. It was good you were facing away from them as you were well-versed in high-class etiquette but, frankly, had never been able to lie too well when looking somebody in the eye.

“Nothing but it.” All but it. The deceit was forced through gritted teeth. You were supposed to think of these men as enemies – your ruthless captors and the murderers of your companions – and yet they shared their meals with you and never went out of their way, after the first three days of your capture, to be hostile. It almost pained you to lie to them like this. It was then a big hand clamped down on your shoulder in a playful slap. Your armour made a loud sound, then there was Eren’s voice.

“Disappointment follows disappointment. We are truly disillusioned, Chris. First, you claim you share nought but friendship with your loyal mistress and now this.” He meant to relate offence, but you could not force yourself to be mad at him. The spoon was lifted once more to your lips and you kept chewing. The food was gradually regaining its initial flavour. You put your plate down a minute later and got to carefully arranging your bandages so they hid everything but your nostrils, lips and eyes.

“A queer fellow all throughout, I admit,” said Porco with a slap to his knee. “Does your dame not take issue with the horrendous disformity – if you have shown her it, that is?” You dared turn around and face them in the gloom. They were staring at the bandages, surely, but could not perceive anything under them.

“My dear friend accepts every form I take.” It was true and you owed Historia your endless devotion and love for that. You’d play pretend as kids – and she’d always be the princess but you’d be a poor merchant one day and a brave knight the next, followed by a rich noble lady, then an evil pirate. You’d be a wicked witch, a good Samaritan, a kind beggar, a desperate maid – and she’d be your best friend. You were now an adult playing pretend but she still chose to be your best friend.

“A heart of gold, she has.” Reiner’s comment was followed by a wistful sigh and a bitter smile. You could see the sad glimmer in his downcast eyes before they slowly raised to meet your gaze. “What a lucky fellow. I cannot promise you the safest of returns to her, but I sure wish it upon you.” His hand was sitting at the hilt of his sword. It always sat there when he told the truth.

“She and I accept the risk I am in and require no such thing as promises. I’m only eternally thankful that you allow me to reach her through word.” Your sincerity was conveyed efficiently enough for him to not doubt it for a single instance. He nodded his head in silent appreciation of your gratitude.

“I found myself at start when you shared with us you could write, Christopher,” Berthold spoke in deep earnest, making your shoulders briefly tense.

“No less than myself, too. I thought only women and nobles were versed in legibility.” Reiner’s fingers brushed through his short blond hair and you could swear the air got stuck in your throat as your mind scrambled for an excuse. Your play of pretend had one too many flaws, truly.

“My friend taught me how to read and write. We’ve been close ever since I could remember.” Again, when it came to Historia you were not burdened by lies and deceit. You spoke truthfully because she might have not been the one to teach you but you learned alongside her for days on end at the castle. You still remembered vividly the tone of your governess, harshly enunciating the proper pronunciation of the royal titles you should use. You pictured her boney fingers brandishing upon your frail hand the hard wooden stick she’d used every time you regarded your current companions by their names.

“And what is your excuse, Eren, for possessing a quality only dames do?” Porco’s taunt drew your gaze away from the ground to the man on your right. The teal hues were too bright to miss even in the gloom. “I remember the days before you came to travel with our group. Our correspondence came on foot. Ah, the good old times.” Galliard put a hand to his forehead like a damsel on the verge of fainting and gave a loud sigh.

“My father thought it important. He wished me to be an alchemist like him.” Your eyes narrowed at the proud bitterness of his tone. He’d seldom spoken of his background in the time you’d spent together and on the occasions he spoke, it would be late and everyone would be sleeping when a passing mention of his mother would tumble from his lips. The kindest woman in all the lands.

“An alchemist is nоught but a fool.” Porco’s voice was full of spite for the profession. He gave a derisive snort and then it seemed it wasn’t only the profession that made his face contort in a scowl. “Like the one who brought to life our worthless second heir.” The hazel eyes of the knight bore into your countenance, then he waved a hand. “Christopher surely doesn’t know. We speak not of it often but we are supposed to have not one but two princes.” He was showing two fingers in the air, judging by the sudden motion he performed.

“And why do you happen to speak ill of either?” You questioned with furrowed brows none could see. It was the advantage of the bandages – that you needn’t control your facial expressions, only your voice in order for your disguise to be left unravelled.

“Why? Because we speak not ill, but truth.” Reiner was tapping the hilt of his sword. His lips pursed and his eyes narrowed in gravity. “The details are kept away from the public but us knights hear tales. The queen’s love took to another lowly dame from Paradis and was banished. But before that, she bore him a son.” Just the mention of such infidelity made his voice acquire a tone you’d never once heard before.

“It was years before his existence came to light. His Highness sought all over for him and took him in. Why our benevolent prince thinks a mere bastard his brother must be a work of magic.” Porco’s sneer made your hands still in your lap, still holding onto the wooden plate and spoon.

“He is rumoured but nobody knows his face. I hear he frequents nothing but brothels in the kingdom. Do him all the good it has done to us.” Berthold gestured carelessly. Dislike was shooting lightning from his eyes. If the most mild-mannered of the group joined the conversation not to halt but to encourage it meant this second prince was somebody who’d built himself a reputation. You saw Eren rolling his tense shoulders next to you, and then Porco took up the story once more.

“Thankfully, we’re blessed with plentiful gold, so that he should struggle greatly to exhaust it.” The knight’s hands were curled into fists and the initial mockery was gone from his face and tone when they slammed upon his knees. “The prince I kneel before is a prince who does not waste away drowning in women and wine. The worthless second is not even a worthwhile tale.” You were quite used to their mannerless ways but found yourself outraged by the prejudiced cruelty they were displaying currently.

“Surely there must be things that redeem him. I believe there is but equal amounts of good and bad in a man.” Your defence made all three except Eren burst out in a fit of amusement. Porco and Reiner were clutching their stomachs and Berthold was shaking his head. “You laugh now but none has laid eyes on him or shared a meal with him.” Your bandaged hands flew in the air and your voice grew in volume. “Imagine but the circumstances in which he has grown. An outcast with a foolish banished father who, if stopping near this camp and perhaps any one other, hears nothing but ill spoken of his name. How shall you feel in his stead?”

“Not only your speech and habits but your compassion is also that of a woman, Christopher. May you find the time to spend less of it with your dame, I ask that you do.” Porco’s condescending manner left you quite unbothered – it was their malicious regard for somebody they hadn’t laid eyes upon that enraged you to the point of daring to glare.

“This does not concern the compassion I have, men, rather the one you do not.” Each word was uttered in perfect accordance with speech and laced with ire that burned so deep it felt cold. “It is not generous of you to regard a man you know almost nothing of with such contempt.” You were taught not to point but you were pointing now and maybe you’d forgive them for killing your companions but you wouldn’t forgive them for speaking like this of anybody, whether he be a friend or a foe.

“You have made me think, Christopher. I would wish to meet this prince of ours, if only to then prove your compassion wrong,” Reiner mused, honesty mixing with jest too greatly in his voice for you to distinguish which one was truthful. Then the blond took notice of the one man who had not participated in the quarrel. “Eren, is something the matter?” All eyes were on the brunet whose downcast teal hues burned almost like embers in the middle of the chilly night.

“Thinking of the time is all. It is quite late. You should rest. I shall take the first post.” It was in this manner that the evening came to a close. Each knight rid himself of his armour and found a suitable spot on the ground. Reiner slept with no covers, Berthold took shelter under a sheet with his bare feet poking out and Porco was snuggled so close to the bushes they concealed him like a blanket. You only lay still for the next hour, listening to them snore. “Chris, why do you wake?” You turned and he saw your eyes seeking his figure sitting against the nearby tree with his sword dug into the ground between his feet, supporting the weight of his hands.

“I have not slept.” Your voice was light and quiet, and a mere welcoming wave of his hand was enough for you to rise and move to rest at his side. “I think of the war,” you whispered gravely and he only sighed. “Surely, a peaceful arrangement can put this to rest. I find myself thinking of the prince, too. Perhaps if I could meet with him…” Your speech faded into the night as the man next to you gave a derisive snort.

“Naught would come from that. You heard the knights.” He spoke with spite that equalled theirs in their story. But if it had been there, why had he not joined? It was not the question you pondered, for you were quite sure a new plan was forming inside your mind.

“I am sure it will. He is but misunderstood, I think.” You didn’t doubt it for even a second. This naivety was what your father had strived to rid you of but never managed. “If I meet with him, he would come before the queen with a good resolution to the matter and clear his name. Don’t you think there’s enough kindness in each of you that you shall not wish to kill for the years to come?” Your head turned and you sought his eyes, if only to glimpse there what he truly thought.

“Why, yes, everybody wishes to not kill and peacefully go about their lives. But this is a matter where knights prove their loyalty through following orders, not going against them.” His obstinacy had never ceased to amaze you – regardless of whether it considered his duty or his morals. His lips curled into a bitter smile when his eyes locked with yours. “I respect you, Chris, but I think you’re putting too much faith into the prince.” It seemed almost like the teal had turned a sad, blue shade. His hands curled tightly around his sword. “He is but a selfish bastard wasting away. He won’t listen to your words.”

“Will you then?” It was only on nights you spoke to him that you could speak this softly. “If the most stubborn man in this land finds it in himself to listen, I’m sure the prince will, too.” His expression seemed almost pained at that moment. He gave a sigh.

“I wish, Chris, we hadn’t been enemies. You would’ve been a dear friend to me.” The confession brought to your face a deep shade of red, successfully obscured by the darkness surrounding you. Your hand lifted from your lap then, hesitantly reaching and gently settling upon his knee.

“I am a friend to you.” Because it was all you were allowed to be, unfortunately. Still, you could satisfy yourself with that much. A friendly face in a hostile land was your saving grace. His kind eyes were your saving grace, even when the blue from them dripped away, only to be replaced by a reproachful shade of emerald.

“You know the meaning I use.” His voice was low and soft like your own, almost like you were whispering secrets nobody should know of. “We will be moving tomorrow, so you should sleep.” He noted gently and your fingers twitched over his knee before withdrawing.

“I insist to keep you silent company, Eren.” Your back was resting against the bark and the armour was heavy but not heavy enough when you could feel his pleasant warmth next to you. “I shall miss you one day.” You closed your eyes and your bandaged fingers clenched into a weak fist. Then, almost like a mirage, his touch rested on top of it and you closed your eyes shut for fear he’d look into them and see the shameful truth.

“Hopefully, it does not arrive then. Because I might miss you more.” Your heart was racing and you were red but you could swear nobody hitherto had spoken to you this warmly, this sadly. His hand didn’t withdraw and you kept still for a while before your head found itself resting against his strong shoulder. You were drifting off and he awoke you when it was Reiner’s turn to keep post. The ground was cold and you begged against all logic for the day of your parting to not come.

…

“I have to say, Christopher. Nearly two months of captivity have certainly not affected you as severely as I thought they would.” Reiner said with an air of respect he was no longer surprised by. The group changed camps in the morning after each full moon – this was the second time hitherto and, on both occasions, none had bothered to put any restraints on you in order to prevent an escape 

“Surely not, Reiner. I find your company rather pleasant.” You spoke sincerely, straining your voice to be hard and deep as you walked alongside Eren at the back of the formation. “I only wish we needn’t look upon each other as opposing sides.” You’d formed friendships here and the idea of your ultimate goal sometimes slipped from your mind, but your mission wasn’t to stay with them in stagnancy. It was to find a way to Marley’s castle.

“And I only wish to go back to the kingdom where my favourite broad awaits.” The sun was shining down on Porco’s blond hair as he complained. You’d heard him speak of Lady Pieck before, too. “Surely, she must be lonely without me there. Ah, I’d ask you to meet her but I’d be jealous that anybody but me should see her.” Your eyes softened at the poorly hidden affection in his voice. “Do you find yourself missing the mistress, Berthold?” Porco’s elbow nudged Berthold’s side, who only gave a short sigh.

“Of course. It is only due to Christopher that I can send her word.” You’d written three letters to Annie Leonheardt in your time with them. He always spoke of her softly, with equal amounts of affection and acknowledgement.

“You dry old log, you wish to send her more than word I am sure.” Porco Galliard exclaimed loudly with another nudge to Berthold’s side, who grew so red in the face it looked as though he might faint from the heat. Reiner, who’d assumed the leadership position in front turned back abruptly and tapped his friend for his inappropriate jest with the shaft of his sword.

“Don’t be vulgar, Porco.” The blond’s broad shoulders were tensed in discomfort – his features, too, when Porco’s gauntlet slapped his back.

“Veer off the path of knighthood, Reiner. We’re all men here – deprived of the simplest of pleasures, too. It is only common sense to speak of it plainly as it should be spoken of.” There was a truth to his words, judging by the nodding heads surrounding you. Even Eren appeared to be smiling in agreement. “So, say, what does each of you miss most?” Porco’s inquiry made your ears redden under the helmet. You wished to avoid listening to their conversation as it might not only be private but also graphic in that mannerless way each of them carried.

“I find myself spending often time thinking of her eyes. I’d just like to sit and watch her all day.” Berthold’s timid confession made you give a sigh of relief as you walked. Your gaze was aimed at the horizon on the left – how you wished for Historia to be here with you.

“Quite boring, I’m sure we agree.” Porco’s retort was full of hearty condescension as he proudly tipped his chin and spoke. “I miss the warmth of the body and the one, of course, of the insides. It’s a peculiar warmth that keeps me up. The strain, too. Such semblance it holds to fighting – and I can’t help shuddering at the cries it incites.” Your windpipe constricted at the explicit information and you found your face bowing toward the ground in utter shame.

“If we shall be vulgar about it,” said Reiner who, in your opinion, would’ve been most likely to put an end to the misery you felt, “I miss the smoothness. Each day we spend in coarse grass, against abrasive trees, wearing bruising armour – but the feeling of the supple woman's flesh, now that is my favourite sensation. Wherever you choose to grab, it’s all soft and pliable, whether it be breast or waist or leg.” You would be choking on your humiliation any second now. Eren was nodding along at your side, teal hues twinkling in the sunlight.

“Agreed we are on that.” The brunet’s voice was light with remembrance and heavy with want. “I myself cannot pick one out of the heap because, goodness, a woman is such a nice pretty creature. I most like a woman when she is naked. So vulnerable and scared, and yet she pounces on you like a cat when you allow so. It is quite the intricate scheme, I think, that women should regard us as understanding not their ways of wanted courtship.” Your brows furrowed and you had instinctively lifted your hands to assume a defensive position in front of your body.

“Oh, the wanted courtship – you cannot speak as though you’re aware of its essence.” Reiner’s taunt made the brunet laugh – with booming cordiality at first, before melting into a sly chuckle of sympathy.

“But I am.” He declared proudly, making heat rise to your face under the helmet. “You see, a woman wishes to be overpowered and subdued but she makes no show of it, only innocently bats her lashes at you until you’ve lost all control. She can imagine you ravishing her on the spot but will speak not a word of it.” You almost wished to shake your head. “She plays you like a fiddle and you oblige because you’re a strong man – and she wants a strong man to make of her a beautiful mess and think it was his idea.” Your heartbeat had become erratic and the sound of his voice was too much altogether. “I adore those games. And while I am kind enough to humour the female whim when it comes to courtship, I sometimes wish to see them beg for it using voice, not fluttering lashes.”

“You are but too cruel and not at all versed in the art of love, I dare say.” Your voice made an appearance as the birds were chirping and the men were staring at Eren in quiet awe. The teal hues bore into yours and you could almost see them laughing even though he shouldn’t have been able to pinpoint your gaze under the helmet. “Women are not these disgustingly simple creatures you make them out to be. They are to be treated with gentleness and care, not a brutish approach to an insensitive false conclusion.” You spluttered in defence at his impertinence towards all women.

“You take offence, Chris, as though you were a woman yourself.” His eyes twinkled and there was a bright smile on his face – breathtaking enough to make your outrage simmer down but not breathtaking enough to make you forgive him for speaking so. “I ask of you not to be deluded. You speak of love. I speak of carnal desires. They are quite different in nature.” Even in his manner of regarding it, he seemed quite sly and sounded as though, in vague description, could imagine exactly the explicit actions he was speaking of. Then, with an innocent tilt of his head, he requested: “Say, in your gentle ways, what it is you miss about your mistress.”

“Indeed, Christopher, we have never once heard vulgarity escape your mouth. We are none the wiser regarding your thoughts on this matter you call brutish.” Porco’s quip made the blood freeze in your veins despite the scorching heat inside the heavy armour. His hazel eyes were prodding at the helmet concealing your bright red countenance. “Or are you too ashamed to share with us your experiences? I will say you must have had them.” You gulped at the taunt, pursed lips and stiff shoulders.

“I have, of course.” Lying had never felt this humiliating before. Thankfully, Historia had always praised you for your brilliant storytelling. You decided to employ it here for the lack of peace they would give you if you refused to answer in a suitable fashion. “I miss… the sight.” Your awkwardness was greatly related through your tone. “My disformity brings me shame so I revel in the sights of the woman. Her,” you swallowed with effort and sought almost a kind of approval in Eren’s face, “breasts and smoothness of skin where I am covered in deep repulsive scars are a calming contrast.” Berthold and Reiner gave slow, sympathetic nods and Porco snorted in mild shame for having brought up such a topic. An awkward silence settled but, not before long, your eyes widened in alarm. “I can hear footsteps.”

Reiner’s hand flew to his sword, Berthold’s whole body tensed and Porco whipped his head to the left, where the border rested, when an arrow flew from the distance and landed at Eren’s feet. You needed not look to see the Paradis knights charging at you. Another arrow flew and Eren’s tight grasp pulled you out of the way. Porco, Berthold and Reiner were running ahead and the brunet at your side was dragging you in the direction of the forest. Your armour was heavy and he was holding your hand – you could only glimpse his back as the roaring calls of knights chasing you echoed behind you.

“For the life of you, do me the favour of being faster than this!” He called when a passing arrow jabbed itself into the trees on your right. You could hear another one follow. The sights were blurry as you did your best to drag the armour with you – you’d never anticipated pursuit as you’d always been a poor runner.

“In this armour, I’m afraid I find it hard to do so!” You retorted, voice full of despair and haste, when the sharp tip of an arrow pierced your shoulder where the armour was linked weakest. Hot red pain shadowed your vision and your footsteps grew from light to heavy. You ran for what felt like miles, until Eren’s pace gradually slowed before finally coming to a halt. You were in the middle of nowhere and only the birds could be heard. He faced you, grim countenance laced with urgency as your knees give out. You collapsed against the nearest tree and felt the arrow pierce deeper into your flesh. “What shall we do? We’ve separated.” Your voice was desperate and your body shook with tremors due to the physical pain and the emotional distress.

“Do not fret. You sound like a dame.” He scolded with his back to you, surmising your surroundings as he planned and reassured. “We’ll meet them where our destination lies. And if that camp has been compromised, we shall travel to the camp of another group. Get up now.” You forced yourself to your feet, swayed and he turned around just in time to see the red drops you’d left on the bark of the tree. His gaze jumped to the arrow sticking out of the back of your shoulder and his eyes widened. “You’re bleeding! What in Christ’s name…”

“Apologies, Eren. I was but too slow. And I will slow you down all the more thereafter.” Your posture was slumped and your words were regretful. You’d make no attempt to escape if he left you, but you would be a burden if he didn’t. His expression contorted, teal hues flashing in fury.

“Do not speak of apology to me!” You almost recoiled at his scream, then he ran a hand through his long hair and his jaw clenched. “I let this happen. Come on, remove your armour. I shall make you a band.” He stepped closer and began undoing his own armour.

“No. I will do it myself,” you argued weakly, feeling the loose bandages around your features under the helmet. If he were to bind you, he’d see the skin under the swathe was smooth and unscarred and you couldn’t allow that.

“You should be smarter than to let your shame overwhelm you when you are bleeding out.” He’d left his gauntlets clatter on the ground, along with his pauldrons, cuirass and placard. He stood before you in only a white shirt with a long ruffled collar. His glare was persistent and almost incinerating. “I shall take it off myself then.” His fingers were reaching for your helmet.

“No, Eren!” Your hand came to halt his intentions. “Please don’t.” His fingers curled around the metal and even your resistance didn’t prevent him from ridding you of your helmet. Your hands lifted at once as you bowed your head to hide the loose bandages. Your heart jumped to your throat.

“I wish to see your face. Now.” His callous order was accompanied by his callus fingers grasping at the bandages and ripping. Your brows were furrowed in desperation and long locks of hair spilled round your face. You heard his breath hitch. “A dame.” The realisation fell from his lips weakly, deafly. Your lids fell, you bowed your head and felt tears prick the corners of your eyes. The sound of ripping made you flinch. “Give me your arm.” You hadn’t heard this much coldness in his voice till now.

You obeyed and he silently took off your armour, letting the metal loudly fall to the ground before forcing you to turn the other way and not giving you the time to brace yourself for the extraction of the arrow. You screamed and bit down on your lips to silence the noise. The pain was excruciating and he was moving the bandages aside to seal the wound using the sleeve he’d ripped off his shirt. Tears of ache spilled down your face and your arms hung lifelessly at your sides. He stepped away when he was done and you fell to your knees, weak from exhaustion and exertion.

“Will you kill me now, Sir Kruger?” You no longer needed to strain your voice to appear deeper. You no longer needed to refrain from utilizing your etiquette lessons either. It did not make your heart any lighter. You slowly rid yourself of the remainder of your armour and bandages, seeing as your disguise was ruined. He was also busy ridding his own body of the metal weighing it down. When the last piece fell to the ground, he gave you a smile so full of contempt you shuddered.

“I should do good in that way, should I not?” The rhetoric question was spat like venom. You didn’t dare meet his gaze. “I am far too angry, I’m afraid. I would lie that it is my strongest wish to strangle your lying throat with my bare hands and yet,” he gulped soundly and gave a desperate chuckle, “the one I wish to strangle is my foolish self.” Your brows knitted and your hands were itching to reach for him.

“I could not have gone on this mission without fooling everybody. I’d be but an armour full of meat thrown into death’s maw had I not assumed this pretence.” You pleaded your case and he stood, still as a stone, piercing your pained countenance with his eyes. It hurt most that they were full of abhorrence.

“I thought of you as a friend. Now I think I know nought of you.” He slung his sword through the belt tightened at his waist and turned his head away. He couldn’t bear to look at you and it broke your heart.

“I am nothing but a friend of yours, Ere---” You choked on his name and gulped it down, renewing your speech and addressing him as was due. “Sir Kruger. You know of my friend, my thoughts, my wishes and aspirations and respects. You know me better than my own father knows me. I have not told you a lie.” It might’ve been useless. He gave a derisive snort and you watched the muscles on his bare arm flex as his hand clenched into a fist.

“When you just did? Or I should be gravely mistaken and your name is truly Christopher – poor lass, your father must have yearned greatly for a boy if he should go far as to name a girl so.” The taunt made your teeth bite into your bottom lip. You sucked in a breath and kept trying to pacify him.

“I am (Y/N) (L/N). I think names are but unimportant compared to the time we have spent together.” Your proud yet soft words proved to be the wrong method to achieve peace as they made a new flash of fury run across his eyes.

“Do not speak to me of time spent!” He snarled, making you take a step back in fright. Tears welled up in your eyes but your dignity kept them at bay. You did not want him to see you cry because he would see through you, like all those times you’d felt he’d seen right through you before.

“I realise I’ve betrayed your trust – if I ever had it, but I harbour nothing short of admiration for you. Still, I do not intend to apologise for it – otherwise, I never would have met you. Unfortunately, never would have angered you so either. For that, I am deeply sorry.” You almost wished to plead with him. The apologies were bubbling upon your tongue but you dared not give them freedom because that would mean you regarded him more dearly than the mission that brought you together in the first place. And for that mission – for your kingdom, you couldn’t let Eren Kruger’s hatred influence you.

“Your apologies should have come a fortnight ago,” he spat crudely, making your lips purse as you observed him put his face in his hands and laugh. It was a miserable sound. Entirely heart-wrenching. “I thought myself sick or crazy, like I’d lost all sense and pride…” he spoke erratic nonsense, trailing off and picking up, and looking at you not with spite but with disgust. “Do you find it pleasurable – that you should derive a shameful joy from the act of making me think myself mad?” He was grinning but it was distorted and painful to witness. You hastened to argue.

“I do not understand what it is you speak of. I never meant to---“

“Surely, you didn’t!” He screamed in outrage and your mouth clamped shut. He calmed himself over the course of a minute spent in stillness and silence, then his eyes were a ruthless teal hue and his expression was set in an impassive stone. “I should leave you here for the wolves to feed on in the night. Or send you back to your knights – I know very well what Paradis does with such sin as the one you’ve committed.” You gave a curt nod and pursed your lips into a straight line.

“I understand, Sir, if you do either. I have hurt you. It was not my intention. I only wished to stop the war.” Your intentions didn’t matter when he hated you. You bowed your head in submission and stared at the ground. “I owe you my life. And, in my helpless role of a woman, I cannot possibly refuse when its fate lies in your hands.” You were small and meaningless, awaiting his final verdict with a strong sense of guilt and resignation.

“… get up.” The cold order made you glance up at him. He was glaring at you, frowning. “I said to get up. In your role as a woman, I do with your life as I please. In your role as my hostage, I do with your life as I please. And I please to not take that life – instead, I will exchange it for glory.” Your eyes widened in alarm and your blood ran cold at the sight of his cruel smirk. “We have three weeks’ travel to the castle and Prince Zeke will be impatient to receive the easiest way to force Duke (L/N) into submission. You have officially stopped the war.”

…

The forest path was narrow, dark wet soil strewn with golden pools of sunlight where neighbouring tree branches outstretched but could not reach each other. Birds were twittering high in their crowns and your step was slow. The only sight besides that of nature you were vouchsafed was the back of the man who led the way. His broad muscular shoulders flexed under his white shirt with each step he took and you watched his bare arm twitch sporadically, periodically, in leftover spite.

“You have not spoken to me in a week, Sir.” Your dignified timbre breached the silence hovering between you, but he showed no signs of having heard you. “I do not wish to offend, but you are no longer mad at me. I can see as much.” His long callused fingers curled into a fist but his mouth didn’t utter a word. “Do you keep silent due to abhorrence? Or due to the fact discourse might prove my opinion correct?” It was not your intention to convince him – on the surface, it may have seemed so. Your true goal, selfish as it might’ve been, was to simply hear his voice.

“Your opinion is a measly excuse for me not to speak.” His stubbornness yielded in the face of your provocation. The air seemed at once to be sizzling with tension.

“My opinion is that peace can be negotiated,” you stated plainly, confidently, making his shoulders tense. Your hands were clinging to the black fabric of the pants you wore. It was a peculiar sensation to speak to him in a normal voice, to know that only one part of you was bandaged and you needn’t worry about it.

“And negotiated it shall be. Your father will retrieve you at the cost of your old king bowing his head before Marley.” Eren’s words were heavy and he was adamant but not confident. You could hear it in the tremor of his timbre at the end. He was being cruel for the sake of being cruel – not for his kingdom or for his convictions.

“I know my father and I know our king. They shall do no such thing for me.” You shook your head and hastened your step in order to catch up to him. Hesitant fingers seized the sleeve of his shirt and he flinched. “I beg of you, Sir Kruger, to look at me.” His step halted and he turned. You observed his avoidant gaze and your fingers clung to his sleeve. “You are a good knight. A good man, too.” You believed so wholeheartedly but the words seemed to have a vexing effect on him, contrary to mollifying.

“You are delusional,” he spat harshly, attempting to free his sleeve from your grip. You were relentless and foolish in your advance, stepping closer and standing so close to him that he thought your presence entirely maddeningly suffocating. You were so close he couldn’t avoid you even if he wished it.

“I’m all but delusional. Were you not the one to halt Sir Galliard’s sword when it was about to strike me? Were you not the one who suggested taking me captive instead of murdering me at the border?” Craned neck and a shining pair of determined hues, you sought along his features the lightest of twitch that would prove you’d pushed past the wall of spite. Each question seemed to aid that. “Were you not the only one who inquired as to my health? The only one who spoke to me with not an ounce of condescension in the beginning?” His defences were crumbling and you were holding his bare wrist with your free hand, fingers digging into his skin as you desperately attempted to meet his gaze. “You are a kind, good man.” The enunciation made his jaw clench. “Please remember the night you told me I had your affections.”

“Not my naivety.” His eyes struck you all at once – the brightest of teal, the fiercest of gold, the saddest of blue, mixing together like a great enchanting potion that held you in place. It would’ve stolen your senses, too, had you not steeled your resolve.

“I pray I never have it either. I want your judgement. I want you to confess that my words hold sense. That this war is needless.” He could run if he so wished – but he didn’t dare. After all, what could your weak grip do against his strong frame? It was your words that kept him there – your words and his insecurity.

“It is.” He seemed almost defeated. His head had bowed and the admittance was neither reluctant nor resigned – it was quiet, sincere, tired. Your eyes gleamed, fingertips singeing his skin as they pressed into it. Your lips moved and you stated you could prevent it and he snorted at the pronoun “we” with condescension. “Your hopeful nature will be your ruin.” But he looked as though he’d given up on fighting. “You think you can make His Highness fall back when you cannot give me a satisfactory negotiation?”

“An arranged marriage,” you declared confidently, making his brows twitch in doubt. “Our princess holds your prince in dear regard. They are not enemies. Their parents are. If they are joined in matrimony, maybe the elders will see this war is not the right way for either to procure the resources their people need.” The proposal – in its shortest variation – was uttered at last; all you could do now was wait for Eren’s final verdict.

“And you think you can convince the proud prince?” His eyes twinkled challengingly and your countenance was the living embodiment of determination. He almost wished to tell you that if he were the most stubborn man in all of Marley, then you were the most stubborn woman in all of Paradis.

“I should hope so. But I need you.” He drew a halting breath at your answer, then shook his head and bit down on his tongue. He was betraying his kingdom. Looking into your eyes, he thought he’d betray the world, too.

“Then you should know if we do not manage, Marley will be attacking,” he conceded in a hushed voice, making your eyes widen in alarm. “The last correspondence that arrived before we set out to our new location stated we should launch an all-men attack unless Paradis yields by the end of the month.” He watched your lips curl downwards, watched your nostrils flare as you took a big breath, sensed your nails creating red crescents around his wrist.

“We should hurry then.” It was as though the will of a hundred knights had been poured into those words. He turned on his heel and resumed walking, and when you followed in his steps, he blindly reached out and grasped your wrist to align your figures on the narrow path.

“And hurry we shall.” The golden pools of sunlight were illuminating his face when his heart was seized by sudden trepidation. He could not bear to look at your face. “You are aware you are travelling straight to your death if war breaks out. The prince will not tolerate enemies in the castle. He would make an example out of you.” Your brows were forlorn but your face was that of a knight – not a knight bound by orders, but one who follows the path of justice no matter the cost. In that moment, he thought you more of a knight than he’d ever thought himself.

“I am aware. It is but a worthy punishment if I do not manage to join the kingdoms. I only pray you shall live, whether there be war or not.” The sunlight was no place for such morose utterances. The sunlight was no place for the cold grip curling its tendrils around his heart. The sunlight was where he’d wished to see you smile.

“You are too concerned with the enemy,” he muttered flatly and you turned to observe his face but it was hidden from sight by a curtain of chocolate locks. And then, in the sunlight, you smiled down at your feet bittersweetly.

“I am too concerned with you, Sir Kruger.” Like a dirty secret crawling its way out of your ribcage, the soft wistful words floated in the air, discreetly taken by the wind and carried into his ears. You did not see them redden but you felt his fingers twitch over the skin of your wrist. You wished for him to never take them off.

“I have told you it is Eren.” Like a carefully veiled acknowledgement, the sentence tied a tight string round your throat and tugged till you felt like all the breath had fled your lungs. This one broken rule would take the form of a noose just between the two of you. Whoever sentenced himself to a hanging first would inevitably take the other along.

“I am forever indebted to you for doing this, Eren.” He’d never known how much he could like his own name until now. And if you pulled the noose, he’d gladly follow.

...

“I shall get us a horse. You wait.” Eren’s eyes were flitting about the place as the inn’s sign hovered over your heads. You’d avoided villages for the sake of anonymity thus far but he’d estimated you needed transport in order to reach the castle faster – hence why he’d led you away from the vacant paths and into the closest village the moment he’d seen you struggling to hide your tired limp. Your hands were clasped in front of your body as you nodded and watched him walk away, tall silhouette fading into the twilight. Your fingers were fiddling with the ruffled hem of your (f/c) tunic when a noise on your left made you observe the staggering figure of a stranger. 

“Doth my eye lie to me – what it beholds but endless beauty in a dark abyss on a silent night?” The old speech was entwined with the heavy scent of booze and you recoiled from the man even though he was yet to reach out for you.

“Please, Sir, cease your advances.” Your shoulders stiffened and your fingers bunched the fabric of your tunic in mild unease. “You are but drunk and confused.” Your subtle rejection dealt no damage to the courage of the swaying stranger. He walked closer and even the words out of his mouth were stumbling when he gestured at your frame.

“Confused, indeed, as to where you, precious jewel, have been all my life and why I should meet you just now.” In the dim candlelight gently pouring through the windows of the inn, you saw the dull sheen in his eyes. Your lips pursed and you maintained an unfazed stature, staring whence Eren’s silhouette had last stood.

“I await a companion, Sir.” The curt statement made the man draw an offended gasp. You glanced at him, concluding the utilization of the experience you’d accumulated during your knight training would only cause an unneeded ruckus. If so, you only had your flawless cold manners to depend on.

“A companion? Surely unworthy of this gem you are. Cometh with me, jewel…” He’d reached to seize your wrist and you’d withdrawn before he could. Suddenly, a big scarred hand settled on the stranger’s forearm.

“She shall do no such thing, drunken fellow.” Eren’s eyes were flared – a bright emerald castigating the drunk man. You made two steps to the side, securely tucked behind the brunet’s back. “Dare you lay a single finger on her I shall have your head cut off.” The threat made your windpipe constrict.

“And who are thee to think theeself authoritative enough to commit such deed?” The stranger shook off the knight’s grip and proceeded to glare at him with a zest only the most zealous of alcohol enthusiasts could obtain. Eren did not budge in the slightest – in fact, his own outrage seemed to have been triggered.

“I am the only man who can touch her,” he proclaimed confidently. Your eyes widened and you felt as though he’d tugged on the invisible noose around your neck. “Her life is mine and with it, body and soul. So step away and do not make me angry,” he snarled, white teeth flashing in the candlelight before he turned to you and, in the gentlest of manners, took hold of your hand. “Come along.” His countenance was still irate; he made a great effort to conceal that as he led you away. “I apologise for leaving you on your own. I should hope that you were not too frightened by his repulsive manner of speech.”

“Not one bit frightened, Eren. I fear now… for my heart.” Your palm rested over it and your knees were weak. It was racing so fast you dreaded it would overexert itself and fail you. His bold declarations were incessantly abusing your poor mind. “I would feel a pang of jealousy for the lady you will one day speak such charming words for,” you conceded softly, with just a spark of jest. The dark cloud looming over his countenance did not disperse.

“I speak them for nobody but you and you speak nonsense. You must be tired.” Your gaze was pinned to the ground and his was aimed at the horse ahead. Your heart skipped a beat and resumed its maddening pace.

“Do not treat me like a damsel now.” Your sides were red as you reprimanded his protective manner. He let go of you and mounted the animal, then extended a hand for you to take. His eyes met you in a bout of sincerity and his next words were solemn.

“I treat you as I’ve always treated you. Get on.” You feared for your heart with twice the intensity once you were seated in front of him. His sinewy arms were caging you to his chest as they held the reigns on each side of your body. “Rest some. By sunrise, we shall be able to get some food. And if we make haste, we will be at the castle two days from now.” He gave the horse a light nudge and the animal went on, trotting down the cobblestone streets. Maybe the crisp night air had put a spell on you or maybe you hastened because your time was running out.

“As it stands and my tiredness speaks nonsense in my stead I wish to tell you I will miss this.” Your head was resting on his chest and even his heart could be easily recognised as his – stubbornly and steadily beating, relentless in its pursuit of kindness. You heard him huff and your hair was scattered by the wind when he glanced down at your melancholic expression.

“Surely you shall ride a horse again, (Y/N).” He went out of his way to reassure, oblivious to the meaning infused with your words. This was the first time he’d said your name. You thought yourself selfish for wishing to hear it again.

“Surely. But I shall miss you, Eren. The day is nearing.” And with the night as your paraclete, hampering his ability to witness the bashful redness blooming across your visage and the yearning light of your eyes, you tenderly spoke what you’d spoken to him many days ago in the guise of a trusted friend. His countenance bore no change but you heard the steady beat of his heart halt, then resume, quickened and somewhat different. It matched yours to perfection. Sometime later, it lulled you to sleep and you were far too content to reproach yourself for praying time stopped and left you forever in the warmth of his embrace.

…

The plan was set in motion. You’d sent your last letter to Krista a week ago and reached the Marley castle at noon. You were waiting for her response and Eren was waiting for you with his arms crossed as you wet your hands in a forgotten bucket of water by the gate.

“We have little time and you wish to clean yourself?” He reprimanded with a glare, making you stand straight as you ran your fingers through your hair in a desperate attempt to comb it. In spite of your efforts, the long (h/c) strands stayed unruly.

“I cannot allow myself audience with the prince in this disorderly appearance,” you argued and he quickly objected, stating your appearance was hardly disorderly. You tugged on the hem of your tunic and glanced down at your black pants. Unfortunately, you couldn’t do anything about them – or the mud sticking to your worn-out boots. “You speak so out of haste.” You waved a dismissive hand through the air, earning a huff from him.

“I speak so out of truth. I have seen you in all forms. None of them is disorderly.” Such boldly poetic words were unbefitting for a man who looked as though he’d been through hell and back. Your lips pursed and heat crept up your neck when the loud neighing of a horse snapped you out of your daze. The messenger handed you the letter you’d been awaiting and hastened to make his way back down the road. You nodded after him in appreciation for the risky mission he’d burdened himself with, then tore the envelope open and feverishly scanned its contents with Eren quietly peeking over your rigid shoulder. Your nervousness, you had to admit, got the best of you once you walked past the gates. “Breathe, (Y/N). I believe you can do this.” Eren’s warm fingers were clutching yours. You gave a curt nod and he dismissed the guards standing before the Great Hall with the simplest of waves. “Your Highness, I seek an audience.”

“What brings you here, Eren? Were you not meant to be guarding the border? We are but a week away from our attack.” Zeke Jaeger was, as vaguely described by Porco and Reiner, somebody who exuded authority and valour. An air of condescension inherent to all royals stuck to his surroundings, but also the sharp sense of righteousness akin to knights. From what you could glimpse past Eren’s frame, the prince wore no crown.

“It is exactly why I’ve come. Forgive me but I think this war is needless. And this here is somebody who agrees with me and wishes to plead with you.” The brunet’s arm extended to present you before the royal, whose grey eyes instantly pinned you into a long-practised curtsy. Maybe it was ridiculous of you to hold up a dress that was not there.

“(Y/N) (L/N) at your service, Prince Jaeger.” You held your head bowed for five seconds, then your gaze met his. Even without sitting on the gold-encrusted throne, he would not be mistaken for common folk. “I believe we can reach an agreement for the better of our kingdoms. As you well know, we have territory and you have gold. It is a simple arrangement I offer.” His brow rose in a questioning manner. “Marriage.” The word was unwavering as it rang inside the Great Hall and made the prince’s eyes narrow. “I trust you are acquainted with Princess Historia.”

“And where would you have gotten such information?” He wore a white robe and its sleeve swayed as he brought a hand up to his face to glide down his blond beard.

“From the princess herself. She is my dearest friend.” You saw Eren’s hands twitch on your left. “You are friends torn apart by the will of your parents. I think matrimony will make them decide against the war.” Your conviction was strong and he was trying to blow holes in it, both with his eyes and his words.

“And what makes you think both sides will agree on this?” This was the difficult part and he knew it. No matter the circumstances, a third party would struggle to set up an engagement between two people. Eren’s presence and Historia’s words – clutched by your sweaty fingers – had a calming effect on your mind.

“Actually, I received word from the princess right before entering the castle. She agrees.” At that, the prince’s eyes widened momentarily. His nails scratched at his beard and his gaze averted from you. “Will you please consider? Joining our kingdoms will benefit them way more than war, as the latter shall exhaust your gold and our army. Two months from now, if fights should break out, we shall be at a standstill with our main resources decreased. Thence, we might even try to involve other innocent sides. I see this war ending years from now and it ends with us both demolished by a third force that takes the reign over our mutual exhaustion.”

“You speak boldly.” His booming voice echoed between the walls of the Great Hall. You felt small and pitiful, dressed in rags and far from rich or influential. However, even in that state of heart, you also knew you were right.

“In the case of marriage, Historia Reiss would encourage her father to give you all you wish. Your dowry will keep our kingdom intact and our empty territory will become a place for your people. If Historia should move here, you will have the upper hand. If you move there, you shall have influence in both kingdoms at once. Do you not think that wiser than war?” Your eyes were flaming hot stars and your eloquence was slowly thinning but your determination suffered not. It was wiser than war because you’d spent a month calculating each benefit of the proposal. You’d laid it at his feet. Now all you needed was for him to prioritise his advantage over his pride.

“I should concede you have a man’s brains, Lady (L/N).” Zeke snorted and scrutinised your dishevelled appearance with unnerving shrewdness. “What you speak of is indeed quite a beneficial situation for our kingdom. Where is your benefit?” His eyes prodded at your countenance and you willed your dry mouth to speak the truth.

“I do not see my people slaughtered or my father suffer as the second most powerful man in Paradis. I do not live in misery, fear and suffering.” Your mouth clamped shut and there was a pause. You spared Eren a glance only to see he was already looking at you. “I keep my friends.” The softer addition made Zeke’s eyes narrow before he hummed, long fingers slowly gliding over his beard.

“Selfish you are and yet, sensible in your cleverness and wishes.” Your posture was the epitome of dignity in the face of uncertainty, but when Zeke sighed a spark of hope made your face light up. “I shall consult the queen and our advisors. Still, I hold the most influence. If so, Eren, you should prepare for marriage.” The imperative words made your blood freeze as you forced your face to maintain its neutrality. “Your whim to play a knight amongst the people is quite done. I shall stay and rule Marley and you shall marry and go to Paradis. That way, as Lady (L/N) will surely agree, is most beneficial.” The grey eyes condescendingly slid from the brunet on your left to you – your identical expressions of dread were amusing for him to behold. “I suggest you go and rest, you are now a most treasured guest of ours.”

All at once, an unseen thus far maid approached your form and gently seized your elbow to lead your numb figure out of the Great Hall. You followed blindly and your blood was rushing into your ears and you didn’t even look at Eren on your way out for fear it would confirm the nightmare these negotiations had turned into. Once the doors had closed behind you, Zeke let a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. In contrast, the dishevelled second hair quickly shook the horror from his features and bared his teeth at the blond prince.

“Brother, I do not wish to be wed to the princess.” The protest flew out of his mouth, daring and almost casual. Eren Jaeger was the only one who could assume such tone with Zeke and leave the room unscathed.

“And how do you suggest to make yourself useful otherwise? A life in Paradis, as I judge, is what you’ve wanted ever since I took you in. Your rebellion to run, assume a knight’s role and stay close to the border is useless.” Zeke maintained equanimity though his piercing eyes spoke of superiority and power. Eren’s teeth gritted at the patronising manner of his brother.

“You should marry Historia Reiss and go there. Or stay here. But I do not wish to hear of marriage. I’ve made myself useful enough as it is.” He thrust his hands back and glared with fervour while Zeke chuckled and waved a hand through the air.

“By bringing the Duke’s daughter to convince me out of attacking her kingdom?” His timbre dripped with hauteur and his eyes were twinkling in amusement – they were the only thing he’d gotten from their father. Eren, on the other hand, had inherited nothing – seemingly. “You are naïve, brother. And to think we share blood with one and the same father. It turns out you got his cowardice. He fled, too, in the face of duty.”

It had been the one thing everybody in the castle used against Eren’s occasional rebellions – that the almighty Grisha Jaeger had abandoned his duty as a husband and committed adultery. With the lowly Paradis waitress Carla, nonetheless. But that had nothing to do with Eren. He shouldn’t be coerced into atoning for his father’s sins by being dutiful in his stead. That was just slavery, not an act of sacrifice.

“I am nothing like our father! I wish to marry for love, brother.” His fists were clenched and he was fuming – this was not Zeke’s attempt to obtain the most benefits; it was his wish to spite Eren into obedience and make him a proper heir. Ever since he’d been taken, Eren had studied and trained and all throughout he’d rebelled – because he didn’t wish for etiquette and strategic meetings, he wished to simply live.

He’d made it a point to be reckless and wretched – to indulge in debauchery, to avoid his lessons, to go as far as to assume a false identity and –under his brother’s nose – leave the castle to join the war as an anonymous knight. And through all of that, Zeke had maintained that Eren’s stubbornness was just a phase he could wait out. Now, under his brother’s patronising gaze, Eren felt again like he was ten and had purposefully messed up his alphabet out of spite.

“Have you found it then amongst the kingdom’s brothels?” Zeke’s condescending bark made Eren flinch, knuckles whitening with the strain of being so tightly clenched. “Or should I give you a few years to find it in those of Paradis once we’ve joined?” His brother gestured past the doors of the Great Hall with a sneer before slamming both his hands upon the golden armrests of the throne. The way they glared at each other was similar and yet different – Zeke was the ice and Eren was the fire. “Do not anger me, Eren. As a prince, you are obliged to bring benefit to our kingdom.” The blond reclined in his seat as Eren spitefully regarded the stone floor at his feet and then (the missing sleeve of his shirt) an idea struck him.

“And I shall.” There was firm resolution in his voice as his gaze clashed with the inquiring hues of his brother. “By marrying the second most influential daughter in Paradis.” Zeke’s eyes widened and Eren stood his ground with a proudly tipped chin. This would be something his brother wouldn’t be able to argue with. “The king has the power and the duke has the land and the money. You shall get the former and I – the latter.” And they’d have influence over the whole Paradis kingdom even when Eren didn’t care one bit for it.

“You shall ask Lady (L/N)’s hand in marriage then?” Zeke’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward.

“Yes.” The curt affirmation was accompanied by a cold determined look.

“And you shall go live with her?” The blond was leaning further, squinting condescendingly further.

“Yes.” A firm nod. Eren thought himself smart for this. Zeke thought him naïve.

“And you’re doing this for your kingdom?” The question made the brunet’s shoulders stiffen. His jaw flexed and there was a slight pause preceding his answer.

“… yes.” Somewhat different than the two he’d given moments prior. It would be humiliating for that to escape Zeke. It didn’t. He reclined in his throne with a huff, a smile slowly stretching his mouth.

“Honour makes you struggle when you lie, brother. I would think so much time spent under an alias would have taught you otherwise.” Eren’s brows twitched at that, then Zeke chuckled lowly and put a hand in the air. It meant he was dismissed. “Go ahead. I shall not argue yet. But you are not to see Lady (L/N) until we’ve concluded how we should proceed. Dress and wash nicely. We’ll dine as a family tomorrow.” This was not punishment – Eren knew it was a test. So he clenched his fists and nodded curtly, then took his leave. He only hoped you had not come to resent him for his deceit.

…

The luxuries of Marley were truly something else. You almost felt out of place in the big guest room the maid led you to. It was familiar to have her undress you and wash your wound but it was unfamiliar that she didn’t utter a single word all the while. You always talked to your maid back at the mansion. There was a silk gown waiting for you on the bed and, not wishing to relish too much in the comfort of leisure and stagnation, you sent the maid away and dressed. Hours later, she served you a meal and notified you that Prince Zeke had urged the visit of Princess Historia and her father; they would arrive in the afternoon. 

You dined alone and conflicted. And when the maid left you alone after taking the empty dishes away, you sat by the big window across the bed with the silken sheets, dressed in an expensive gown and misery. You felt utterly alone and unfit – and it didn’t help that Eren had not once sought you out for the remainder of the day. It was understandable as he would be preparing for his engagement. Your duty had been to protect your kingdom and yet – everything hurt now. Who knew the cost of peace was so high? Or was it? Were you not just young, foolish and precipitate? The thoughts weren’t helping and you impatiently awaited your best friend’s arrival.

You woke early, bathed in sunlight at the window and it was no understatement to say your heart jumped that the princess had immediately asked to be led to your temporary quarters the moment she’d arrived. It was later afternoon when the door opened fully and the maid was on standby outside as you watched Historia’s blond locks sway with the movement of you sweeping her up in your arms.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” Her arms squeezed you tightly and there were joyous crystal drops at the corners of her big eyes when you beheld her face for the first time in nearly a year. “I was so worried about you!” Your thumbs were gingerly rubbing at her rouge sides and she was looking at you, overwhelmed by pride and glee. “You have succeeded, my dearest. I am so glad to see you.”

“I am glad, too, Historia. I have but one bitter announcement.” Your downcast eyes made her hands curl protectively over your upper arms. You were ashamed of your bitterness and her innocent oblivion was disheartening, to say the least.

“Your mission is but completed and you can come home. You are no longer in danger and our kingdoms shall be united in mere days. And I am marrying a childhood friend. What sad news could there be?” Her smile was too bright for you to speak the truth. This was the happy ending but she wouldn’t be marrying the prince she was besotted with. No, she’d be marrying a prince that was, in your eyes, times worthier of being her husband. Dutiful, certainly.

“Ladies, if you will please follow me. We’ve prepared dresses and Her Majesty insists we are to hurry.” The maid intervened the moment your lips had parted in trepidation, showing herself past the door and making a smile lighten your countenance as you gently pushed Historia toward the exit with the promise you’d tell her afterwards. Her eyes lingered before she was led away and you were left with your maid – Anais – asking you which colour of dress you preferred as Prince Eren had requested a variety for you to choose from. Your lips pursed and you spent the next hour easing yourself into a simple teal gown with Anais’s aid. She was standing by the window when you were seated in the dining hall, next to Eren and across from Historia.

“We are gathered on this fine eve in good spirits, I should hope. Let us, before dinner starts, toast to our union.” Queen Dina, portrayed as nearly monstrous by the knights of Paradis you’d befriended, was, in fact, a handsome woman as though woven by gold. Everybody lifted their goblets off the table and her dignified gaze scanned them. “Is there any reason the Duke shouldn’t be with us?” The mention of your father made your shoulders stiffen.

“He insisted he should work upon the division of the land and the orders of building new houses, Your Majesty, but he has encouraged us to give you his warmest regards and blessings,” King Reiss explained benevolently, eyes settling on the seat next to yours. “I’m afraid we have not yet been introduced to everybody at the table.”

“Forgive my lack of courtesy. This is my brother, Eren Jaeger, second heir to the Marley throne, if he should outlive his stubbornness and rule after my time runs out.” Zeke graciously provided, to which, in your periphery, Eren bowed his head. His brother smiled. “I think dinner is not entirely suitable for negotiating marriage, so I suggest, instead, that we, as a future big family, get to know each other better.” You had not yet touched your utensils when a cold grip squeezed your heart.

“I am but an outsider in that big family you so fondly speak of, Your Highness.” You had seldom regarded yourself with such a scornful tone. Maintaining composure was difficult, strenuous.

“True as that is, Lady (Y/N), I fear my brother insists you are a treasured addition to it.” Zeke beat Historia to speaking. “I wonder, in the week he claims you have spent together plotting against the war, how shall you have won his respects?” Every pair of eyes at the table was aimed at your expressionless countenance. It reminded you of all the banquets your father had ever held. You realised, all at once, that it had been practice for this day.

“I am no less lost than you regarding that, Your Highness.” You gently took your fork and knife, meticulously cutting into the steak in your dish. “I have done nothing but share my worthless opinions and he listened in spite of my standing, which makes him more deserving of my respect.” It was standard etiquette to be humble and always return the compliments you were given. Eren was silent and Zeke went on to announce to the king that his younger brother had a certain reputation amongst the people.

“I should hope it would not bring ruin to our name.” King Reiss was quick to squint at the brunet, who calmly took to dining under the queen’s stern gaze. The tension at the table was not simply imaginary as you’d firth thought – on the contrary, it was quite palpable.

“I assure you, it shan’t. He has now been conquered by that will shall one day be everybody’s ruin. Love was the name, if I am not mistaken.” Zeke’s cordial jest was accompanied by a hearty gulp from his goblet. “Isn’t that right, Eren?” The blond’s smile was not returned by the prince at your side. Eren was, without an inkling of knowledge, tightening the noose around your neck.

“Youth is certainly different from us, Your Majesty.” King Reiss addressed the queen with a shake of his head. “How I envy those frivolous days. Drunk on love, I concede, I’ve never been.”

“Love, King Reiss, I think something ruinous, as my son foolishly joked.” She momentarily fixed her son with a reproachful look. It occurred to you then that what Reiner, Porco and Berthold had spoken of Eren’s father had not been lies. “Its foundations are but entirely blind and based on unbeneficial circumstances. I think simple trust and fidelity surpass its qualities greatly.” She was curt and spiteful in her manner, making the king laugh.

“I could not agree more, my Queen. I uphold love as a necessity – only once you’ve fallen victim to it are you able to perceive the better alternative. But this is just the talk of the old foolish folk, don’t you think? Your eldest shares your views and yet the other children have not yet announced a stance,” he mused, gliding down his grey beard and eyeing the rest of you with amusement. The topic of love, you felt, would reap only painful thoughts for you.

“I am impartial, father. Love is what I feel for all my dear people. I consider it a clear feeling, contrary to blind. One, in my opinion, has not seen themselves truly till they’ve loved,” Historia explained and her nature shone through even in her opinion – innocent and kind and utterly selfless. The queen gave a light huff and covered it by reaching for her goblet as Zeke nodded softly.

“You are quite wise for your years, Your Highness. A perfect bride.” It was an affectionate statement but it stilled your hand on its way to your napkin. A perfect bride – indeed, your best friend was a perfect bride and would be a perfect wife and… “Eren?” Simply hearing somebody else say his name made your heart clench. And then it twitched guiltily – you couldn’t allow yourself the selfishness of mourning an unrequited love when you’d provided peace for two kingdoms. That had been your goal, not Eren – whether he be Jaeger or Kruger. One man shouldn’t have meant so much – just trying to think that brought you pain. Then his voice doubled it.

“I held love on a pedestal for a long while,” he spoke stiffly, staring at his dish before his eyes lifted to observe his brother and then, discreetly, momentarily, steal a glance of your pallid countenance. “In recent days I have come to realise love, as that maddening sensation perceived between man and woman, holds only a puny candle to the love that stems from friendship.” Nobody seemed impressed by his opinion. Only your fingers twitched as they held your fork.

“And you, Lady (Y/N)?” The prince’s voice made you blink a few times as you realised he’d addressed you. Eren’s words were echoing in your head and the noose around your neck was so tight chewing proved difficult.

“Love is but too painful for me to discuss, Your Highness,” you said, smoothing your hair and facing the table with a bitter smile. “I am afraid sometimes we find a person who is only far too good to be with us. Love, maybe, is not meant to be, which might be exactly why the queen regards it as so ruinous.” She fixed you with a sharp look, only to understand, immediately after, that you’d meant no harm. In your face, she saw her own, many years back, barely struggling to maintain dignity. In a bout of sympathy, she intervened before her son decided to prolong the topic.

“It might be quite rude of me to ask, Your Majesty, but when do you think shall be the best time for the wedding?” Her eyes clashed with those of King Reiss, who only hummed, twirling the wine in his goblet with a smile. Your corset was unbearably tight. Your sleeves were itchy despite being made of delicate lace.

“The best time would be a near one. I’ve issued the commencement of preparations already. The nearest date appears in my mind as two days from now,” he mused thoughtfully and your mind was clouded by a morbid haze – there was hardly any air in the dining hall. Two days – so close, not at all far, a measly forty-eight hours. The queen nodded but you couldn’t see it.

“I find that satisfactory. We shall have the time to prepare a suitable dowry, announce it to our people and travel.” She was playing with the ring on her finger and Zeke was humming. “Two days from now, Your Majesty, we’ll be toasting again.” She smiled and he returned it, quickly, sincerely. Everybody was smiling and your head was spinning. Two days from now you’d be invited to the wedding of the century; your best friend would be wearing a white dress and vowing herself to a man. She’d dreamed of that day. She’d want you there. You would be there. And you’d despise yourself for hurting every second of it. Your hand slowly settled on your chest where the corset sat tightest.

“(Y/N), are you in pain? Is everything quite alright?” Historia’s clear voice rang in your ears, fighting off the haze and making you look up. You loved your best friend too much to tell her nothing was quite alright because she’d be marrying the first and only man you wished you had all to yourself. Breathing was hard.

“Maybe the room has grown humid as we were idly chatting,” Zeke supplied kindly, gesturing with his hand to the maid he’d assigned to you. “Anais, would you escort our guest to the balcony for some air?” The world was spinning and your hands were cold when a burning touch settled on your wrist.

“I will do it. She seems quite ill.” Eren halted Anais in her step and you felt his arm wrap around your waist, lifting your weak body to your feet. Historia’s worry was dripping down her face and you were blind, trusting him enough to lead you to the balcony railing outside before closing the doors and making the rest of the world disappear. You were alone with your vertigo and the second heir, and his hands were on your shoulders. “Speak to me, (Y/N). I have never seen you so pale.” His eyes matched the colour of your gown and his fingers were calloused and warm as he urged you to face him. “Speak, tell me of what it is that makes you this sick.”

“It must be the air as Prince Zeke said.” You waved dismissively and even the crisp air outside couldn’t pour enough oxygen into your lungs to banish the constricting ache from your chest. The harsh pads of his fingers dug into your skin. You didn’t dare reproach him for wrinkling your dress.

“You cannot lie to me. I have observed the pained look in your eye ever since we sat at the table.” He sounded mad and desperate, eager and genuine in his concern. He wished for no lies but the truth would make of you a selfish child. Your head was bowed and your gaze averted – you were too ashamed to face him properly.

“And it was there way before. Please, Eren, do not ask of me honesty.” Your palm was flat against his chest, fingers stiff and outstretched to aid in keeping your distance from him. But he was persistent and strong – and, much like he’d refused to move away when you’d been the one beginning him to look at you, he would not move now until you met his gaze.

“It is all I ask of you. Do you not think me deserving of it?” A jab of guilt pierced your heart at his bitter inquiry.

“You are most deserving of it, indeed. But it is for your sake that I ask so.” His grip had loosened self-consciously before sporadically twitching against your shoulders. Then his fingers slowly moved up, warm in their endeavour to be gentle as they clung to the sides of your neck, hard pads bracing your jawline and making your face level with his own. His hues were overflowing with something you dared not assume was anything more than friendly affection.

“I am way past concerned with my own sake, (Y/N). Now speak of what tortures you so and I shall dispose of it.” The soft quality of his tone stiffened into sharp ruthlessness and you were staring at somebody who was so worried for your well-being that he looked as though capable of murder. All at once, you were outraged that he dared speak so fondly of anybody but his betrothed.

“Of the peace, indeed?” You snarled with a derisive smile, trembling fingers latching onto his wrists to tear his hands away from your face. “You shall ruin all my efforts just to see me bright?” Your voice rose and shook and he was glaring, hands clenching into fists as your touch withdrew and instead rested upon your skirt to make of it a wrinkled bunch.

“I shall take the whole world hostage if need be. Break it apart piece by piece.” His declaration made your heart clench as you spitefully pursed your lips at his determined countenance. He sounded so genuine it made your blood freeze. “I will fight wars and make others bleed and bleed myself dry for it. You shan’t like that, I would think, but I intend to do it if it will put an end to this misery that brings you ailment.” Your arms crossed and he tried to step closer when your voice cut through the tension in the air.

“I forbid you. If you are my friend, you will listen to me and fulfil your duty.” Your commands were firm and you thought yourself intimidating but he saw right through you, each movement and each emotion that dared cross your mind but not your visage. Your bitterness was overwhelming and your despondency – clear – as your eyes narrowed. “I cannot be mad at you for being a prince. We are both doing as our moral code insists. I only suffer that my success should be marked by your obligation to marry, Your Highness.” His face at once contorted in utter abhorrence.

“Never have I hated myself more than now when you should call me that. If it is my marriage that tortures you so, then I will not go through with it.” He shook his head as though the notion itself was like a pesky fly and you argued he had to but he chose not to heed your words. “And yet I shan’t. You have named me the most stubborn man in this land before, (Y/N). I hold that quality dear to my heart. In its power, I told the same to my brother after he sent you away.”

“And he agreed?” Your eyes were wide and your stance – entirely rigid in bafflement. His steps were noiseless but his warmth was at once less than an arm’s length away. Cautious fingers gingerly settled at your elbows, gently easing your arms till they were limp at your sides. His gaze was an overwhelmingly bright shade of teal and gold and blue but it could steal only your breath, seeing as it had already taken your heart captive.

“War has not and will not break out. I did promise my brother a marriage but if you are this opposed to it, I fear your father has given his blessings in vain.” He could be ruthless and calloused but this was the first time you’d seen him warm and soft all over. You could swear your heart stopped and barely found the words to question his intended meaning.

“What is this you speak of? I do not yet grasp your point.” Reading between the lines was the main rule of etiquette – finding the ulterior motive in all subtlety and responding in the same manner had been your strong suit before but it was worthless now because Eren had never been a man of subtlety. Your features conveyed your confusion but he did not let it deter his smile.

“Let me then say it in a way that cannot be misconstrued.” His fingers slid from your elbows to your defenceless hands – long fingers curling round them desperately as he suddenly fell to his knee. “I do not want your hand in marriage, (Y/N), I need it – as desperately as a beggar prays for bread. I have been many things but now I shall be stubborn. Your refusal, if you should give it, would break my heart. It belongs to you, along with every other undeserving part of me.” His earnest timbre matched perfectly the unadulterated adoration in his eyes. And seeing as he’d never spoken to anybody so, he struggled to find the perfect words almost as much as you struggled to contain your tears. “I ask, in the least of humbleness and the biggest of hope, that you make me your ever-loving and dutiful husband, seeing as you are already everything I could possibly ask.”

“Would it be naïve of me to assume you are not asking only the hand of the Duke’s daughter?” Your words hardly exceeded the volume of a whisper. He looked so desperately enamoured it filled your throat with a suffocating waterfall of affection. He was at your feet, asking you – begging you – to make him your husband.

“Only for my brother to let me do so,” he conceded softly, making the noose round your neck tighten to the point of no return. There was no return when he’d given up his pride, clinging to your hands like a drowning man clinging to a plank from a shipwreck. “I am asking your hand, whether your name should be Christopher or (Y/N) or any other you might think of. I ask my best friend’s hand and it turns out, the hand of the most beautiful dame in this world.” Your heart skipped a beat and your knees gave out, resting against the floor as a lone hopeful tear slipped from your eye.

“And you shall be with me? I will not return home alone, never to see you again?” You inquired wistfully, unbelievingly, and he smiled, nodding as his palm cupped your cheek and his thumb wiped the stray tear. You believed him even before he spoke.

“Indeed. I shall spend every day with you unless you wish for space. You should know, as we lived together in the wilderness, that I am not as refined as you should wish your husband to be.” The embarrassed jest was joined by his bashful chuckle and it made your heart swell – this was the only person who could make you fall further in love with the coming of each new day. You squeezed his hand and grinned so brightly that his supposed eloquence was melted into a lovesick puddle.

“And yet you are because I would want nobody else as my husband.” Your eyes were twinkling and your lips pursed. “I shall take you, flaws and all, my friend but once I do, I never intend to let you go so if you ever think you’ll want that now is the time to withdraw your proposal.” Your warning was left unheeded as he grinned – boyish charm and buoyant maturity, and you came to realise that his heart, once more, perfectly matched yours.

“I wouldn’t dare. I am blessed to be never let go of. You have all my affections, (Y/N), and, I fear, my naivety too, along with everything else.” He shook his head with a chuckle and you watched his honest teal hues glisten brightly.

“I would be glad to have them and, seeing as I’m yours already – life, body and soul – the only thing I can give back is a ‘yes’.” His eyes widened at your soft whisper and the tension you had not sensed had been there snapped like a thin twig the moment his big hands cupped both sides of your face and pulled you in for a kiss whose only definition was this: entirely incinerating. You were drinking each other; he took your dignity and you stole his breath; your fingers were weakly clinging to his shirt as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I have been this happy only when Reiner caught that wild boar.” He admitted lowly, making you huff. Your hands slowly glided up his shirt, crinkling the fabric as they touched his chest, neck, shoulders – any part of him you could reach.

“I’m afraid we share that happiness. It was a blessing to bestow upon us when we were almost starving.” Your gazes clashed and you were both smiling as his hands slid down your shoulders, stopping at your elbows and keeping your palms glued to his chest as he rose to his feet and pulled you along. You were facing up and he – down. You swore nobody had ever looked at you with such unconditional fondness.

“Is it a crime to be proud that my wife successfully posed as a man for months on end?” The corner of his smile twitched in amusement and you averted your gaze in a moment of embarrassment. Then, seeing as you had nothing to be embarrassed about, you smiled and tilted your head.

“I think I will answer that when I become your wife.” Something as simple as addressing yourself as his future wife brought an elevating sense of euphoria to your mind. He chuckled and your hands withdrew from his body as you straightened your posture with a renewed healthy complexion. “We should return to dinner now.” Your dignified manner made his eyes narrow playfully, then he proceeded to extend his arm and bend it at the elbow.

“May I?” The invitation made you give a gentle smile. Your arm wrapped around his.

“Of course.”

It seemed to the people at the table that you were glowing upon your return. You took your seats next to each other and though your dress matched the colour of his eyes and Historia at times aimed a questioning gaze in your direction, you and Eren did not utter another word to each other for the remainder of the dinner. Zeke, as it seemed, grew to be twice as lax due to relief. Nobody else knew what had happened and did not speculate anything out of the ordinary had. At the end of the night, you and Eren exchanged respectfully suppressed pleasantries. When war had been avoided and royals would be wed the day after tomorrow, there was no need for more.

…

The sun was shining down on the courts where knights wiped the sweat from their foreheads and practised the art of war in the dust. It had been a month since the union of Marley and Paradis so you were allowed safe passage between the kingdoms at any time – you took advantage of that permission to spend a week at your father’s mansion, sorting through duties and shamelessly lying through your teeth that the marriage proposal you’d received and accepted from the second prince of Marley you had not yet properly acquainted yourself with was just for mutual benefit.

By seeing you express displeasure with your betrothed and vow yourself faithful to the duty of being of use, your father insisted, adhering to your expectations, that you spent more time with the man you were to marry in order to earn his favour. Historia was the only person who’d dare call you manipulative but you thought yourself nothing short of an exemplary daughter – exactly the one the Duke had always dreamed of. In that role, you’d devoted the past fortnight to being with Eren Jaeger, including finally buckling under the pressure of your old habits and seeking him out in the knight’s courts.

“Good day, Sir,” you greeted with a bright smile the blond knight you instantly recognised. In the time to pass, he had not changed at all and now he laid eyes on you bare of your disguise, being none the wiser.

“Good day to you, beautiful dame. Sir Reiner Braun at your service.” Reiner bowed and took your hand, giving your knuckles a kiss before standing straight and humming when you introduced yourself. Naturally, he’d heard of your name and, in an instance, assumed a more dignified stance. “What brings you to the courts, My Lady?” You returned that it was your wish to see a friend. “And who is given the honour of being named a friend to one of the most gorgeous women in these lands?” A chuckle bubbled at the back of your throat at the unexpressed hitherto chivalry of the knight, but your words were restrained by the sight of the big callused hand clasping down on the blond’s shoulder.

“Only my humble self, Reiner.” Eren’s timbre sounded the slightest bits of firm as Reiner regarded him with a pair of narrowed golden hues. “Did I hear you speaking words of courtship to the lady just now?” Teal and gold clashed and you stood there in your clean tunic and black pants; Reiner immediately asked whether he was forbidden from it, to which Eren snorted and a proud smile sprang on his lips. “Indeed, you are, as I find myself protective of my future bride.”

“And why have we not received the news till now?” He masked his shock as Eren stepped closer to you, protectively placing himself at your side. “Porco shall be jealous to hear you’ve somehow taken such a dame captive.” Reiner joked with a huff.

“And he shall be even more jealous to see her fight.” Eren’s declaration made the blond’s eyes widen – it was just then that Berthold and Porco approached you. “Speaking of which. Let me introduce you to Sir Berthold Hoover and Porco Galliard.” There was a mischievous twinkle in Eren’s teal hues as he gestured towards the men you were well-acquainted with. You still did your curtsy and introduced yourself, letting both knights bow their heads and vouchsafe your knuckles a respectful peck.

“What are you, ragged fool, doing in the company of such a handsome woman?” Porco’s true nature could not be contained by manners no matter the circumstances. It made your smile warmer as Reiner defended you were to be wed and Galliard slapped his forehead in outrage. “Wed? Why, Milady, you’d better escape whilst you still can. I’m afraid this man is no good for you,” he advised, genuine concern and jovial familiarity, making you chuckle.

“And I am afraid I have been no good for him either. But there are equal amounts of good and bad in a man and I choose to place my hopes on the good.” Your defence made Eren’s lips purse as the rest of the knights exchanged stupefied looks. Reiner was the first to speak.

“Why, you remind so much of an old friend of ours. Whatever happened to him after you separated, Eren?”

“I fear he disappeared. He’s probably with his dame now.” Eren scratched the back of his head sheepishly and you watched the knights you’d never quite thought would remember Christopher the Veiled smile and huff.

“It sounds to me like a happy ending. I wish we could see him.” Berthold’s words made your heart swell – maybe you weren’t the only one who’d thought them good company. And maybe – just maybe – they didn’t entirely lack compassion.

“I could always send word.” Teal hues twinkled as their owner glanced at you, then you returned, with a gentle smile that surely, if they’d been friends, he’d be glad to receive it. The men hummed and then Porco scoffed in remembrance.

“Such a queer fellow.” The comment made your smile twitch in nostalgia. “He was so much against fighting. Say, did none hear how we came to settle peace between the kingdoms?” All were silent as you and Eren had spoken to Zeke about keeping the negotiations a secret. To the common folk, it would appear as the miraculous deed of love defeating war. But to the knights, it appeared too convenient to avoid suspicion. “Tis a mystery then. And if he truly made it happen, as he so liked to claim?”

“Then we shall be thankful,” Reiner said with a nod and Berthold and Porco joined him in peaceful resignation. You were smiling at the sight of them – together, alive and content – when Eren turned to you and requested the sparring you’d promised him earlier. At that, the knights were visibly baffled as you curtsied and graced them with a grin.

“I’m afraid I did not come only to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. I have yet to show my future husband who shall indirectly rule the household once we’re joined.” Your claim was accompanied by a confident smirk and immediately followed by Eren’s snort.

“I should think it will be me, darling.” You huffed at his gentle retort, making his eyes narrow.

“Then you are gravely mistaken, friend.” Your taunt made him hum as he provided you with a dull training sword and, a few feet away with the knights as your audience, you assumed stances. Your heels dug into the dust and Eren was smiling, full of hauteur.

“What a queer woman.” Porco’s mutter was joined by Berthold’s hum and Reiner’s wide eyes once your sparring began. Eren was on the offence and you were on the defence, swords clashing as the sun shone down on your determined faces.

“When your back hits the ground, I shall order a wedding in secret,” you declared loudly, dodging Eren’s attack and stepping to the side to slash at his back only to have him halt your advance.

“If that is how we will proceed with our wedding preparations, you are only giving me more of a reason to win.” A bead of sweat was glistening on his forehead but his smile was brighter than the sun. Your swords clashed and he was staring at you pointedly. “When your back hits the ground, you will be walking down the aisle only in your garters.” Your eyes widened at the prospect and you heard Berthold gasp when a chuckle bubbled past your lips.

“What vulgarity!” Reiner’s outraged exclamation sounded. “And she only laughs! Truly a queer woman.” They watched the exchange and listened to the loud impact of the swords for a few minutes and then, maybe it was luck, maybe it was Eren going easy on you or maybe it was the unfortunate coincidence of his hand becoming too clammy to maintain a proper grip – he dropped his weapon and could not retrieve it fast enough, for you had already brought your dull blade to his neck with a smile.

“I am hoping my battle skill does not discourage your affections,” you spoke softly, making him shake his head as you lowered your sword and he professed that it had been exactly what had evoked them in the first place. Your brows furrowed and your mind was quick to recall he’d only seen you fight on the night of your capture. “You speak of months ago?” The inquiry made his whole face redden as his eyes averted to the ground. You, on the other hand, were desperately scrambling to figure out the reason. It didn’t take long for your eyes to soften in realisation. “Oh, Eren. I understand now why you were so mad.”

“Mad at myself, indeed. If it does not lay shame on my name, it disproves your words that love is not meant to be,” he justified eloquently, making you chuckle as you shook your head at the acknowledgement that while, yes, you’d been friends, it had not been entirely one-sided of you to hope for more back when you were dressed in armour and he – in conflict.

“Oh, but you found yourself in love with a man.” Your smile was wide and his hand upon your mouth was trembling in shame. The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were a bright crimson – eyes flickering with frustration.

“Hush, woman!” He glanced at Reiner, Berthold and Porco, who, thankfully, were too engaged in a conversation of their own to pay attention to your pair. And when your soft fingers seized his wrist to take his hand off your face, he gazed down at you with that unadulterated affection you were so often awed by. “I found myself in love with you,” he rasped defensively, fingers lacing with yours as he wiped the sweat from his forehead before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat and you beamed up at him.

Shameful and unplanned as it had been, you’d found yourself in love with him, too. And so, past a happy ending awaited another one – and a thousand more for the years to come. With Eren, you felt, every day was a happy ending. And it didn’t matter whether your name was Christopher or (Y/N) and his – Kruger or Jaeger – because you were simply two people having found and nurtured friendship in a big land full of others with stories as intricate as yours. Two people tied by an invisible noose – if one tugged, the other fell. You were inclined to think you’d rather jump together if it came to that.