Chapter Text
The heavy silk of Rozemyne’s gown dragged against the stone floor of the abandoned warehouse, a stark and dirty contrast to the pristine manor she had known all her life in the Inner Walls. Born into a high-class family of noble blood, Rozemyne had never known the harshness of the world outside her gilded cage. She was a delicate creature: pale skin that seemed almost translucent, long blonde hair that fell in soft waves past her shoulders, and striking pink eyes that held an innate, gentle innocence. At just 150 centimeters, she looked fragile enough to break under a strong gust of wind.
Her soft voice had done nothing to deter her captors. Rogue members of the Military Police had snatched her from the estate gardens, intending to use her as a political pawn to extort her doting, vastly influential father. For two days, she had been bound, terrified but quiet, praying for a miracle.
But the miracle that arrived was wrapped in a nightmare.
A sudden, deafening roar shattered the silence of the district. The walls of the warehouse didn't just crack; they exploded inward as a monstrous, skinless hand tore through the roofing. A Titan. Somehow, a stray breach had allowed the beasts to penetrate deep into the outer rim of the district.
Rozemyne’s captors shrieked, their political schemes instantly forgotten as they ran, only to be scooped up and crushed by the grotesque monsters pouring through the ruined streets. Left bound on the floor, Rozemyne closed her pink eyes, her breath catching in her throat as a fifteen-meter Titan peered down at her, its mindless, distorted grin widening. It reached for her.
Zip.
The sound was like a whip cracking through the air. Before the Titan's fingers could brush against her, a blur of green and steel descended from the sky. With blinding, vortex-like speed, a figure spun through the air, blades flashing in a deadly arc. The Titan’s fingers flew off, followed instantly by a deep, precise gouge into the nape of its neck.
The colossal beast collapsed, sending up a cloud of suffocating dust.
As the roof caved in completely, Rozemyne felt herself falling backward into the debris. But she never hit the ground. Strong, unyielding arms caught her mid-air.
When the dust settled, Rozemyne opened her eyes to find herself cradled against a broad, muscular chest. She looked up into a sharp, angular face, piercing grey eyes, and dark hair undercut with military precision. It was Levi Ackerman. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.
Though he was not a towering man, the sheer aura of power, security, and absolute authority he radiated made him seem larger than life. He lowered her gently to a safe clearing, his grip firm yet surprisingly careful given her fragile frame. Looking up into his stern, deadpan expression from the safety of his muscular arms, Rozemyne felt her breath hitch. Her heart skipped a violent, erratic beat, not from the terror of the Titans, but from the sudden, overwhelming proximity of her savior.
"You're bleeding," Levi said, his voice a low, gravelly baritone. His eyes scanned her pale skin, noting the faint scrapes from the flying debris. He pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and gently, almost clinically, dabbed a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "Can you walk, brat?"
"I... I think so," she whispered, her soft voice trembling.
In the weeks following the attack, the political landscape of the Walls shifted dramatically. Grateful beyond words for the safe return of his beloved daughter, Rozemyne’s father threw the entirety of his vast wealth and political influence behind the Survey Corps.
The Scouts received a tremendous influx of funding, state-of-the-art provisions, and high-quality horses; all publicly attributed to the heroism of Captain Levi.
However, this blatant favoritism sparked a dangerous backlash. The corrupt factions within the government and the Military Police, furious at losing their leverage and envious of the Scouts' newfound power, turned their venomous sights back onto Rozemyne's family. Political aggression mounted; whispering campaigns, asset seizures, and subtle threats of assassination began to circle the noble estate.
Her father, realizing that his wealth could no longer guarantee his daughter's safety in a shifting world, came to a desperate, calculating decision. The only place the government wouldn't dare strike was directly under the wing of the strongest man alive.
"A marriage," Levi repeated, his brow furrowing as he sat across from Rozemyne’s father in the quiet of the Scout Headquarters. Commander Erwin Smith sat beside him, watching silently.
"It is the only way, Captain," her father pleaded, his hands shaking. "The Military Police are looking for any excuse to seize her as a asset or a hostage again. If she marries you, she becomes a dependent of the Survey Corps' highest authority. She will live within the barracks, hidden from the public eye, protected by the very men who terrify her enemies. Please. Save her again."
Levi looked toward the doorway, where Rozemyne stood waiting. She looked so small in the austere military environment, her pink eyes wide and trusting, her long blonde hair catching the dim candlelight. She didn't belong in this world of blood and dirt, yet she bore the situation with a quiet, gentle dignity that struck a chord deep within him.
Levi sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Fine. But she stays in the inner quarters, out of the filth. I won't have her tracking mud through my wing."
The marriage was small, private, and shrouded in absolute secrecy. To the rest of the world, Rozemyne had simply vanished into a remote estate to recover from her trauma. In reality, she was now the wife of Humanity's Strongest Soldier, living safely behind the heavily guarded walls of the Survey Corps headquarters.
On their first night alone in his quarters which Levi had scrubbed to an immaculate, spotless shine, Rozemyne sat at the edge of the bed, her hands neatly folded in her lap. She felt incredibly small, the gravity of her new life setting in.
Levi entered, wearing his casual white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his scarred, corded forearms. He stopped in front of her, looking down at the gentle girl who had suddenly become his responsibility.
"It's not the luxury you're used to," Levi said bluntly, though his tone wasn't unkind. "But you're safe here. No one will touch you."
Rozemyne looked up, her pink eyes shining with a profound, quiet gratitude. She stood up, her head barely reaching his chin, and stepped closer to him. "Thank you, Captain Levi. For everything."
Levi stared at her for a moment, his usual stoic facade softening just a fraction. He reached out, his calloused fingers gently tucking a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear.
"Just Levi," he murmured, his voice surprisingly soft. "You're safe now, Rozemyne."
Hearing him speak her name had Rozemyne feeling that same rapid beating of heart that she had felt the day she fell from the sky. In the midst of cruel and chaotic world, she had found the safest place.