Work Text:
Waiting...
Armin remembers all his past lives. Not in their entirety but he remembers bits and pieces, significant memories that mattered to him in the past that may not matter as much now. They get mixed up sometimes, they get jumbled up in his brain that he can't tell whether it happened yesterday or a thousand years ago in a distant life he barely remembers. There's one thing he knows for certain though, a memory he can never forget. Because she follows him everywhere. In every lifetime his soul descents into, hers follows him. They don't always come in the same form of a human. Two cats sitting by a window; a giant peering down at him with the tip of his hood in her hand yet deep down she was still human; a woman with writhing snakes in her hand and a hero with a divine sword sent to kill her, whatever shape they took, they found each other.
Sometimes it took years for their paths to cross, for their eyes to meet and their souls to recognise each other. Each time it happened it was like a light went off in Armin's brain. There she is again, he would think. He would close his eyes momentarily and imagine those invisible strings of fate connecting, binding around them. This time, though he had found her instantly. The moment he was her, he knew it was her, that fate had been merciful on them this time.
Except it hadn't.
He remembers the day he met her in this life time vividly, as if it was yesterday and the water surrounding him was the stone floor of the grand hall. Men from all over Greece surrounded him, all gathered in that room for a chance to marry her cousin. He wasn't there for Historia, though. His eyes were fixated on his beloved Annie, the woman he was bound to in every life. It wasn't long before they were married and the gray cliffs of his barren Ithaca sprung to life. Finally, he thought, after so many lives lived in suffering, they could have some peace. They could raise goats and geese and live out their days in peace.
And then war broke out. And the oath he swore caught up to him.
He was torn from her, put on a ship and taken thousands of miles away from the home that they'd built and the small child rested against her shoulder. The only thing that hung between them was the promise to return and the red string binding them.
Still, even after twenty years had passed, the color of her eyes lingers in his mind. He'd gotten tired of seeing the same shade of blue whenever he looked at the sea, knowing that it was the very thing keeping him from his Annie. And still, it was all around him, everywhere he looked for 20 years. It surrounded his ship, the island of the witch, followed him into the underworld and cave of the sea monster where it quickly turned red. It surrounded the island of the goddess whose touch haunts him in the worst of his dreams.
If only he hadn't angered Poseidon. He would be home right now, with his wife, raising their ducks and geese, watching his only son grow up. And still, if someone were to ask him if he regrets letting the cyclops live his answer would be that he only regrets not getting home sooner.
He lets himself close his eyes for just a moment to breathe in the smell of salt. When he opens them again, it's not the clear blue water that he sees. Blood. Everywhere. All around him. It's so familiar to him yet it feels foreign in these halls. He's spilled blood before, it isn't his first time. Yet there's a tremor in his hands, a lump in his throat. What would she think? What would she think of all this blood on the floor she walks on? Would she hate me?
Is this how it felt, Eren? To destroy so much for someone you care about?
Still, he keeps walking. The blood makes a splashing noise under his bare feet. It's wet and sticky. It'll stain the floor if it isn't cleaned soon. He can't be bothered with that right now.
His breath hitches in his throat. In front of him is the frame of Falco. He looks a lot like him. His shoulders have broadened, his hair lengthened, his legs stretch long and thin. He isn't the infant he was when Armin left. He's grown into a young man. It's a shame his hands were stained at such a young age.
"Father, she's waiting for you." When he speaks, his voice breaks. He still has tears from his eyes. They stare at Armin, longing to still be held between his father's arms. There's plenty of time for that, Armin reassures himself.
.
He takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, then two, then releases it. He's done this hundreds of times, met her in hundreds of lifetimes. Still, it feels different this time. He's never spent this long without her knowing she was waiting for him.
The door creaks in front of him. There's a flash of light, at least he thinks Then he sees her. Her frame is stiffer, thinned since the last time he saw her. Her hair runs loose down her back, her eyes are the same shade of blue he's spent years thinking about. All his power in one room, standing in front of him. He wants to smile but his lips don't curve the way they used to.
"Is it you?" Her voice is thin, shaky. "Have my prayers been answered?" She takes a single step towards him. Her arm hovers in the air between them. It wants to reach for him, touch his face, for her soft hand to meet his calloused skin. But it stands there in mid air.
"I..." His eyes avoid hers. They find interest in the ground, the wall behind her, anything. "I am not the man you fell in love with."
Her hand drops to her side. Her eyes are jaded and dark. Twenty years have passed. "You look different." She says. Her hand reaches up again. To his hair, this time. It runs through each strand as if it's the most delicate thing to ever grace this world. "You've aged."
"I've killed people, Annie." The words linger between them like an autumn breeze. He wants to reach his hand towards her as well, to clasp it and hold it between his own. It takes everything in him not to lower his lips onto hers.
"Do you remember what you promised on the day you left?" She asks.
There's silence between them. He does remember. He just doesn't know if a promise is enough to justify all that he has done.
"Everything you've done, you've done to survive." She said. "That is what my husband would do. That is what I choose to believe."
Still, he shakes his head. "I sacrificed my crew..."
"Why?" She asks. Her tone doesn't sound accusing. It takes a moment for the question to float towards him.
"I had to make a choice. You... or them. I chose to come home to you." He takes another deep breath, empties his heart of the weight residing there and tells her all that went down. From the moment Eren confessed to opening the bag of wind to the moment his sword plunged into the sacred cattle despite Armin's warnings.
He isn't aware when he stops speaking. He suddenly becomes increasingly aware of Annie's arms wrapped around his neck and the warmth radiating around him. Hesitantly, he weaves his arms around her and pulls her closer.
"Tell me everything." She whispered. She's missed out on 20 years of his life. She needs to know more, longs for the rawest parts of his hurt.
"You'd hate me."
"I will fall in love with you over and over again. In every lifetime our souls descent in, I search for yours. There isn't a single event that could unfold in time and space that would make me hate you."
"But you did once." When a sea stretched between their country and their souls were cast on opposite sides of the war, when she was meant to kill him.
"I hated you because I couldn't stay away from you."
It's her that does it. She closes the gap between them. Her warm lips press onto his. It's not like any other kiss they've shared in any lifetime they've share together. It's urgent, longful, it binds their souls together after all this time apart. Finally, he's home.