Chapter Text
The fire crackled among the branches, coating the charred remains with a deep shade of black. Four kids were sitting around it: one brunette, two blondes, and one raven-haired boy.
It was dark; the night sky was prickled with stars, with slim clouds moving in various directions. The moon was bright as a slight mist of clouds covered it; the wind blew softly against the trees, lightly stirring the leaves.
“What are we going to do if we get caught somehow? Do you think we'll all be killed? Able to get away? Or what?” The freckled girl asked, holding a thick branch to push a few other sticks and leaves to fuel the fire. The heat drowsily kissed her skin.
The blonde boy looked in her direction, a confused expression plastered all over him. “Why?” He answered; the brunette shrugged lazily.
“It's important to be prepared for every possible outcome. If we are successful, then we can continue what we're supposed to be doing. But… What would we do if that doesn't happen?”
The boy stayed quiet, thinking. So she continued, “Of course, it's unlikely, but what if it's later on in our mission?”
“Well… We can protect each other; we're comrades.” The reminder was pointless; they were all too aware of their position. He smiled, “We don't have to worry about that, though. We have to trust Marley's research.”
The raven-haired boy spoke up, “She's right. I mean, surely the king would use the Founding Titan's power if we just attacked the walls so blatantly. Then what?” He said, as soft-spoken as ever.
The blonde scoffed, “Why in the world are you guys hesitant to make history? This is our chance to show our dedication to Marley by killing the devils that pose a threat to our entire world!” He surged up, clenching his fists.
He was desperate.
He took glances at each one of his peers around the fire, a devastating silence. One that told him everything.
Annie, who hadn't said a word since they set up camp, glanced up at him. Indifferent and knowing. Like always.
The brunette's jaw clenched as her eyebrows knitted together. Her glare was focused on the makeshift fire in front of her and the surrounding ambiance of the plains as she thought for a moment.
She decided this would be the best time she would ever get, “Stop trying to be Marcel, to put it lightly; it's pissing me off, Reiner.” Her gaze finally met the blonde boy's. “Why won't you just quit it, for everybody's sake?” The brunette was met with wide eyes.
Reiner's head drew back. “Why does that matter?” He forced himself to ask, his eyebrows upturned.
“Because it's not who you are. You aren't strong or reliable… So what makes you a better choice than, let's say… Porco?” The end remark was sarcastic but made a strong enough effort to convey what she meant. Ymir's glare was intense within the silence that had fallen over the four children; all their eyes were on her. “Isn't it obvious?”
“What do you mean?” Reiner breathed out; his lips ran dry. His eyes once more took their turn in meeting the heads of his other comrades, who avoided eye contact.
“Marcel made his brother look bad compared to you not long before he died. He put you on a pedestal to protect Porco.” Ymir grimaced. “Don't tell me you really thought you were actually better than Porco and Marcel…” She smirked in that antagonizing way she always did. Always harshly prodding for a reaction.
Her eyes traced over Reiner, tearing the layers to see what hid underneath his loose attempt at being Marcel. “It's the guilt, isn't it?” Her fists clenched before she continued, “You think that if you attempt to become him, that'll make you seem like you deserve the titan more, is that it?”
Reiner's mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish, unsure of how to retaliate and defend himself. He stuttered. His nostrils flared, “Now, how do you know that?! For all I know, you could be making this up! Do you really believe I would take your word for it?! You joined later than all of us; we barely know you!”
Ymir leaned back slightly on the log she was sitting on and moved her gaze to the trees; the smirk and annoyance left her face and were replaced with indifference. She sighed, “I know because I was the one to overhear him speaking with the generals; he was desperate, that was for sure…”
Reiner gulped as tears pricked his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“More than ever.” Ymir stared at him; her tone remained monotone, “After all, I saw him leave.”
The brunette's stare fell onto the fire in front of her, satisfied. “You need to stop pretending to be someone you're not; that's all I'm really trying to say.” She stated before sighing and reaching next to her to pull a small sleeping bag out of the backpacks they prepared back in Marley.
A chill struck through the brunette as she stood to lay the sleeping bag on the grass; it was getting cold. “We're almost to the walls anyway. If we get up early, we should be able to breach it tomorrow. So, we should get plenty of rest… We need as much energy as we can for tomorrow, regardless of whether we want to do it or not.” She said, climbing into her sleeping bag and closing her eyes once she got comfortable. She curled up into a ball; her attempt at feeling completely secure.
“Hey.” Bertholdt finally spoke up, planting a hand on Reiner's shoulder, “Don't mind her; I'm sure she's just tired; don't beat yourself up over it.” It was a slackened try at reassurance. Both of them knew she was telling the truth.
Reiner nodded slightly as the pounding of his heart found its way to his ears, threatening to break his hearing. A cold breeze lightly ruffled his hair, soothing the heat that welled up in his cheeks.
The remaining others copied Ymir; little could be heard apart from the rustling of their equipment. He followed suit and prepared his sleeping bag, careful to keep it a safe distance away from the fire but not too far to lose its heat.
A moment passed before his whisper cut through the silence. “Night.” He mumbled, his eyes darting from each of the bodies that lay silently in the sleeping bags.
“Goodnight, Reiner,” Bertholdt murmured, shifting to get comfortable.
Reiner found it difficult to fall asleep; his mind was plagued by what Ymir revealed. Maybe he knew deep down that he wasn't the first choice for the Jaw Titan just by the way others reacted when it became clear that he had inherited it.
Reiner was nothing but a backup. He knew that he was unwanted. But he wanted to make up for that loss, to show that he was worthy.
He knew all too well that he couldn't be Marcel, not in a million years, but it couldn't hurt to try out the qualities that fit Marcel so well.
━━━━⊱༒︎ ✶ ༒︎⊰━━━━
Ymir thought back to the fall of Wall Maria often.
She frequently wondered what would've happened if Marcel had never died and were there to lead them. Unlike Marcel, she narrowly escaped death once before, simply because she was lucky.
Much more than Marcel.
She thought back to the capture of the cult and the narrow escape from becoming a pure titan, thanks to General Magath, who had apparently overheard about her circumstances. He had reminded her that she wasn’t more than a tool for the cult, someone who wasn’t considered human, just a pretend doll to bend at their will.
She guessed she always knew. But she had tried too hard to bury it deep within her to ever confront it properly.
Despite how good it felt to be cared about for the first time, she was not truly wanted.
Not until the Marleyan military came along. But it wasn't much different than how good the cult made her feel.
She was warm. Had a roof over her head. Appreciated. Wanted. Although the education and policies were strict.
If she even dared to question Marley's ways, she would've been accused of being an Eldian Restorationist and sent off to Paradis to die by the jaws of a titan.
Due to Magath's interference, Ymir was given a second chance, and she couldn't waste it.
A part of her wondered if it was her destiny to be unwanted and used for other people's selfish gain.
Maybe Marcel's fate was inevitable.
She knew she shouldn't dwell on the fact for too long. It wouldn't change anything, and it sure as hell wouldn't help her in any way. After all, she was never close to any of the members of the Galliard family, never mind the rest of the warrior candidates.
Except Annie.
Annie was similar to her in a way; they were both victims of people's high expectations for them, shredding them of a peaceful life.
Friendships were a pointless thing for Annie to make back at Marley; Ymir could sense it from a mile away. But due to Ymir being so determined to understand who Annie was, it resulted in an unexpected friendship between the two.
They grew to trust and admire one another's abilities and tell each other where an individual skill was lacking, if not multiple.
A friendship that allowed them to enjoy each other's company back then had drifted away since they came to the Eldian military. Despite still trusting each other's capabilities and pushing them to do better, they could only glance at each other every so often outside the barracks.
Being together would cause suspicion if either one of them were caught being a shifter; it was unlikely, but possible. They had to keep each other safe.
Ymir was focused on a much bigger aspect of Eldia apart from finding the Coordinate.
Krista Lenz.
Ymir had overheard at a church on one of her free days in the Warrior Unit that Krista was the illegitimate child of a family that wanted her dead. She was a part of a royal lineage.
Krista was a lot. She was far too kind, far too forgiving, and far too fake.
Ymir knew what it was like to put on a front for others, to pretend to be something she was not. She knew what it was like to become so used to the façade she created that she forgot that she was even pretending.
Ymir knew it all far too well from her time in the cult; it killed her to know that there’s somebody now just like her, destroying themselves for other people.
She knew she shouldn't get attached. She should be isolating herself to prevent as much guilt as possible, like Annie is. At first, that was what she did. She stayed away from people; she reminded herself to be uncooperative and selfish. A contrast to her previous goddess façade.
Something attracted her to Krista.
Something that she felt that she was so close to seeing yet so far away from at the same time. She needed to build her trust. She wanted to become somebody that Krista could rely on and trust to keep the secrets she thought she would take to the grave.
She needed to confirm Ymir’s suspicions about Krista having possible connections with the Founding Titan.
She didn't think it would be easy; that's why she needed as much time as she could get with her. She wasn't going to get attached. She wasn't going to fall in love. She wasn't going to become dependent on an 'island devil.' It was something she had to tell herself every time she even glanced at Krista.
Despite being so fascinated with her, something deep inside her hated her. Something inhuman, something that wasn’t Ymir’s true thoughts.
It hated every single Eldian that sat in that very cafeteria, eating and enjoying life. It told Ymir that they didn't deserve to enjoy anything. Not after the atrocities their ancestors brought upon their homeland and its inhabitants.
Supposedly, they were the descendants of evil itself, the only race to have the ability to turn into monstrosities. Titans.
But, she wasn't an idiot. She knew this voice in the back of her head was Marley's doing. It wasn't there before she became a warrior. Their teachings told her that they deserved death, to be slaughtered like animals for their crimes.
Ymir didn't hate anybody inside that room.
She hated her situation, the voice that wouldn't ever shut up, and being trained into a killer for Marley's benefit. She knew that if she could choose any other possible outcome besides this, she would do it in a heartbeat.
After all, she was half Eldian too, but she was nothing but a weapon to Marley.
That's all the Warriors were. Weapons trained to kill in cold blood. Everyone knew it besides Reiner.
Marley considered her and her comrades to be 'Honorary Marleyans' that could fight against the filth that was rooted so deep in their DNA.
It wouldn't take a genius to know that their promise for the Warriors to live a great life once they completed their mission was giving them false hope. A motivation to do their best.
She was consumed by guilt for what she did at Wall Maria. The countless people who became a red stain on the ground lived rent-free in her head. She knew there was nothing she could ever do that would be able to bring back the hopes, dreams, and family members that she so selfishly tore away.
Their horrified stares, their screams, and cries as they watched the gate that protected them for centuries suddenly get broken down haunted Ymir at every second.
She had a recurring dream, just as she fell into unconsciousness, of standing on a heap of corpses in her titan form.
Each one of those corpses stared right back at her with their lifeless, bloodstained faces. Their bones snapped under her titan's weight, their bodies cold but soaked with the warmth of the liquid that used to keep them moving.
She saw herself standing in front of her, someone who was an entirely different person than the one who snatched innocent people's lives away.
People who didn't have a single inkling of an idea of what was beyond the death and destruction that they were so used to.
They had no idea of what the truth was.
The very enemy that was responsible for the countless murders was sitting right next to them, sharing the same barracks as them, eating their food, sharing the same restroom areas, and breathing the same air, sat around them.
Pretending. Waiting to strike again.
They had no idea what the true identities of the Titans were. Their limited amount of knowledge was the Warriors' advantage.
Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt, and Ymir knew this, but they selfishly used it without thinking otherwise.
They all had different motives for what they were doing; Ymir didn’t care for what the others wanted out of this, so she never partook in their conversations about it. Neither did Annie.
Ymir supposed that was what made them such good friends. They had similarities; however, Krista was the person whom she understood the most, the person that she had the most similarities with. And she liked that.
But Ymir is bound by fate to betray her, to abandon and break the mutual trust between the two.
It killed Ymir to think about the face Krista would make when she would eventually realize who changed history that day.
“Ymir?” She knew that voice. Krista.
She turned to face the girl next to her, worry plastered all over that pretty face of hers.
“Are you okay? You're very pale…” Something was missing. The fake concern was missing.
The false concern that Krista would pretend she felt for others.
“I'm fine; I was just thinking about something. Nothing to worry yourself about.” She itched at her cheek as she locked eyes with Krista, who slightly tilted her head.
“Are you sure?” Krista placed a hand on her arm.
“Yeah.” Krista turned back to her soup, her spoon settled on the side, with her eyebrows knitting together. “What?”
A beat passed. “Nothing.” Krista turned her head back to her and stopped staring at her food; her voice had started stern, until that sickly sweet tone was back, accompanied by that false smile.
Ymir hummed a response that told Krista she knew she was lying. She thought for a moment, deciding if she should tell the truth or just lie.
She decided to risk it, “Yeah. I was, but as I said, it's nothing you need to worry about.” That was partly true. A part of her wanted Krista to worry over her, to show her that she cared about her, and to be the first person who loved her without any false intentions. However, another part wanted Krista to focus on herself, to find a way to be who she really is, to be selfish, and to find a way to love herself.
Subsequently, Krista didn't respond and ended up giving the rest of her barely touched soup to Sasha, who thanked her endlessly for the gift but not without telling Krista to eat more.
When Sasha talked, she realized something. She and her comrades weren't the only ones hiding something. Many people in that room were, whether they knew it or not.
For Sasha, it was her accent, an accent that she seemed too ashamed of to use. For Krista, it was who she really was. For herself and her comrades, it was their abilities, the truth, and what was beyond the walls.
She kept her eyes on Krista, tracking her every move; the confession that she wanted to get to know Ymir better seemed somewhat genuine.
If Ymir was to be honest, she wanted it for both of them too; the thought overlapped with the screams of fury from the hateful voice inside her head.
Ymir was more than eager to know more about Krista. A lot more about her beyond the shield of a false perception that she tries so hard to keep up.
Ymir couldn't let Krista know too much. That was too much of a risk, too much of a danger to their mission. They needed to find out who held the founder, if they even were in the walls, that is. And Ymir had a lead right in front of her.
She wanted to go back home, despite barely having a home to return to. She wanted to make a life for herself. To reject the life that was forced upon her, the anger that she was met with when she was alone with the cult leader whenever she jumbled up her words during a speech.
She needed to reject everything he verbally beat into her.
Despite everything, Ymir missed it. She missed the praise, want, and care they gave her. She missed the woman who would feed her, who would be responsible for taking care of her the best that she could. She missed the compliments she would always get, despite some being repetitive.
But they had no idea who she truly was. The only thing about her they cared about was the persona she put up, which she was forced into putting up, just to be liked and needed.
They had no idea what her real personality was like, what she enjoyed, her wishes, or her goals. Ymir doubted they cared.
They just wanted to believe she was the goddess Ymir Fritz. The one who would save them.