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It’s been snowing since dawn when Levi woke to a world shrouded in pristine glittering white. It’s evening now and the cold has driven him from his quarters to seek the warmth of the mess hall where a bright fire is burning in the great hearth. He sits by the window nursing a cup of tea, watching the soft flakes of snow drifting down through the darkness. Though he knows its bitter bite from countless winter expeditions beyond the walls, snow is still a miracle to Levi.
The world outside is silent, muffled by the deep blanket of snow. Inside it’s mercifully quiet too, the usual cacophony of the mess hall replaced by the crackle of the logs in the heath and a few subdued voices. Most of the Corps have returned home for the Midwinter holiday, to spend precious time with whatever family or loved ones they have left. Most but not all. There are always soldiers who have no family to return to, those who have been cast out for imagined sins, those who prefer the company of their comrades, or who simply prefer to be alone. Levi knows all their stories.
When he was a kid growing up in the Underground with Kenny, Levi had always wondered what it would be like to have a family. Sure Kenny talked a lot of shit about “The Family” but it didn’t sound like the kind of family Levi wanted to be part of. Levi dreamed of warmth, love, security, acceptance, of having a place and a purpose in the world, among people who cared about him, and who he cared for in return. Foolish ideas for a runt like him, ideas that Kenny had knocked out of his head in short order. Levi had found his family eventually, with Farlan and Isabel he had briefly known camaraderie, warmth and acceptance, love even. Having experienced it once, he knew how precious and fleeting it could be. He never expected to find family again, least of all here in the Survey Corps, among the ranks of the broken and the damned. He never expected to find mutual love, respect and trust, a cause to fight for, and a reason to keep fighting, least of all from the man he had once sworn to kill.
Levi feels the cold draft before he hears the door of the mess hall open. The commander strides in in a flurry of snow. He’s dressed in his great coat, with a muffler wrapped around his face, the tip of his nose is scarlet and his cheeks are pinched from the cold. He’s carrying two brown paper bags, one large, one smaller, which he places on the table in front of Levi.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Levi asks, one thin brow lifting.
“I went out for supplies,” Erwin replies, unwinding the muffler and sending a shower of snowflakes onto the table where they glisten for a moment before melting into tiny puddles.
“Supplies? Isn’t that the quartermaster’s job?”
“Quartermaster’s on holiday, besides, not those kind of supplies.” Erwin struggles out of his greatcoat, and hangs it on the back of the chair beside Levi. Flakes of snow are still glittering in his hair like translucent stars.
“What kind of supplies do we need so urgently that you had to go out in a fucking blizzard?”
“You’ll see,” Erwin smiles cryptically.
He picks up the larger bag and carries it over to the corner by the fire where a group of soldiers are huddled. They scramble to their feet as the commander approaches.
“At ease,” Erwin stops them mid salute, “we’re not on duty tonight.” He places the bag on the floor by the hearth. “Enjoy the holiday.” The soldiers peer into the bag curiously as the commander turns away. Levi watches as they pull out bottles of spiced wine and rich fruit cakes, their faces lighting up in gratitude.
“You spoil them,” Levi remarks as Erwin returns and takes his seat beside him.
“Everyone deserves to be spoiled a little at this time of year.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. Even you.” Erwin pushes the smaller bag towards him. “Happy Birthday, Levi.”
“Tch, it’s not my birthday.”
“Of course it is,” Erwin replies easily. “It’s written in the muster, so it’s official.”
Levi has never known the date of his birth, he doesn’t even know with certainty how old he is. When he joined the Corps, Erwin, for reasons known only to himself, had arbitrarily recorded Levi’s date of birth as 25th December; the Midwinter holiday. Ever since then he had insisted on marking the date, despite Levi’s protestations.
“Open it,” Erwin prompts, nodding at the bag. Inside Levi finds a bottle of brandy, a tin of fine tea, and more of the sweet, spicy fruit cakes. He frowns, cheeks colouring.
“You risked dying in a snow drift for this?”
“I did.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe, but I think of everything.”
Erwin produces two glasses from the pocket of his coat and sets them on the table. Levi rolls his eyes, but he cracks open the brandy and pours two generous measures.
“What are we toasting?”
“Another year?” Erwin suggests, holding the glass up to the light.
“Not sure that’s something to celebrate,” Levi grumbles.
Erwin leans over, close enough that Levi can feel the heat of his breath like a promise against his skin.
“Every year with you is worth celebrating.”
“Fuck off,” Levi elbows him, cheeks flaring scarlet, but he can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. Erwin laughs and the sound of it echoes through the hall like music.
“Another year.” Erwin lifts his glass.
“Another year.” Levi promises.