Chapter Text
Summer of Year 853. Trost District. Afternoon. A rental studio in the Entertainment Zone.
The glaring summer sun competed against the cool breeze that blew into a room occupied by two of your long-lost friends. Louie Hahn leaned back in his chair with his shoes resting on the edge of a desk. Nearby, Viktor Denhart was sorting and checking the band’s most recent batch of mail for upcoming gigs.
“Mind if I snatch one of Sylvan’s fruit tarts? Yelen’s craving.” Louie’s caramel eyes glazed across the wooden surface of the desk toward the shiny sweet treats begging to be eaten on the other end.
“Help yourself.” Viktor muttered. The next letter in the stack was the nicest; the quality stationery envelope was secured with a lazuli wax stamp- the letter E was embossed on the seal. The inquisitive band leader tampered with the pompous emblem and unfolded the letter enclosed within the envelope. It read:
~
Dear Viktor Denhart, Louie Hahn, Jonas Klein, and Cassandra Rosenthal (Lady and the Tramps):
I hope you do not mind me writing to you all. The Scout Regiment headquarters has not been as lively since Lady and the Tramps discharged. Personally, I am a huge fan of your troupe; Are you all still together? I would love to discuss potentially hiring you to perform at my wedding in a few weeks-
~
Viktor suddenly crumpled up the mail and shot it across the room; it ricocheted off the wall and into the waste bin.
“Dude, did you even read it?” Louie asked behind his relaxed feet propped up on the edge of a desk.
“It’s garbage.” Viktor mumbled and took his seat on the stool behind his drum kit.
A suspicious Louie got up to retrieve the crumpled letter and envelope from the trash bin. The front corner of the wrinkly casing was adorned with the neat handwriting of the Commander of the Survey Corps. Hahn couldn’t believe his eyes as he rose to his feet. “Are you crazy? Why would you throw a letter from the commander out?” The bassist glared at his friend.
The band leader didn’t respond. Instead, he flooded out the potential energy to reveal your secret under the loud waves of his percussion instrument.
Your favorite tramp read the rest of the letter while drowning in the loud vibrations of the band’s practice room:
~
The ceremony will be held at a private venue in Yarckel district. I will cover the transportation fees for all band members and equipment, in addition to your talents and boarding. If you are interested, please write back to me so we can continue to discuss this opportunity in greater detail.
I look forward to your response,
Erwin Smith
13th Commander of the Survey Corps
~
Louie walked back to the desk; His eager hand yanked the parked feather quill from the pen holder along with a clean sheet of paper from a tray on the desk before dipping the quill nib into the inkwell.
The sonic booms suddenly came to a halt as Viktor silenced the cymbals with his hands. “I could go without ever seeing him again.” His lips exposed his feelings, but not his reasoning.
Louie’s torso twisted toward his friend’s direction. “What is it that you’re not telling me?” The platinum blonde foretold his friend’s familiar behavior like a soothsayer.
The eldest didn’t budge. “Can’t say.” He felt childish having to keep secrets, but this was a precious one he was not at liberty to disclose without your consent.
Louie shrugged in confusion. “It’s like Cassandra never left.” Hahn continued scribbling with determination behind every inky stroke. “He’s offering to pay for damn near everything. We’d be fools to pass this up.” The room fell quiet for a moment. “I trust you’ve got a good reason for feeling the way you do, but Jonas and the girls need the money...”
Viktor deeply inhaled his frustration and parted ways with his contempt with a sigh. “You’re right.” His lazy green eyes sunk down and settled on the surface of his copper alloy cymbals and committed to his role as your confidant; the price of your fate was heavy on his big heart. “Tell that bastard we’ll be there.” Denhart began to play your favorite tune as his next practice song. While the rhythm carried him through, he couldn’t help but wonder who the commander was marrying and most importantly: what happened to you and your kiddo? Viktor’s mind was imbued with negative thoughts at his betrayal of your best interests; he hoped you’d forgive him for assisting Erwin- that is, if he ever saw you again. He quietly wished that somehow in some way the universe sought justice for your sweet heart and blessed your broken family with a plethora of only great things.
--
Summer of Year 853. Evening. The commander’s living quarters in the Eldian embassy in Liberio, Marley.
Erwin walked into his modest suite after a long day of diplomatic meetings and political discussions. The endless talks were soul-sucking; the gradual decline in peaceful negotiations and national stability weighed heavily on the commander’s broad shoulders. Luckily, the first letter on the massive stack of mail sitting on the small desk of his barren bedroom contained enough excitement to alleviate some of the stress.
Mr. Smith quickly removed his beige coat when he noticed the senders of the letter were your dearest friends. His large hands made quick work of opening the most anticipated piece of mail. It read:
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Hello Commander Erwin,
We are overjoyed you wrote to us. You might not be aware that our lady has not been a part of our group for some years. She was discharged from her service in the Survey Corps shortly prior to our leave. We are unsure of what her life entailed after her departure from the Scouts. Our lady can never be replaced but we hope our talented vocalist Jonas will exceed the expectations you have for your special wedding ceremony. If you are content with the skills the rest of us have to offer, please consider this letter as an acceptance of your invitation.
Thanks for being a fan of our music,
Viktor Denhart, Louie Hahn, and Jonas Klein
~
Your fiancé grinned from ear to ear behind the thin sheet of paper. His mind concocted different variations of your reaction to this news. Excellent! Cassandra is going to love this surprise.