Chapter 1: Meat and Pancakes
Chapter Text
“You’re getting too useful, brat.”
Eren turned from the window he’d been cleaning. The glass sparkled and now successfully reflected Corporal Levi’s expression. Though Eren was pretty sure no polished surface had ever earned a scowl from him before.
Eren turned back, half expecting to find a streak of dust he’d missed or a stray fingerprint he’d left behind, but no—clean.
“Sir?”
If it were possible Levi’s eyes appeared to narrow even further. “Top five in your class, member of Humanity’s Strongest squad at the tender age of fifteen, Hanji’s personal lab rat, not to mention that little f*cking trick you’ve got of turning into a seventeen meter titan.” Levi tsked. His eyes roamed not out the window (where Petra was beating the sh*t out of Auruo) but along the glass itself. “Even your cleaning techniques are improving.”
Eren tried not to puff up too much at that, but the cuff to his ear made it pretty clear that he’d failed. “And you can cook. f*ck.”
“Yes…” Eren blinked when nothing else seemed to be coming. “Uh… is this your way of asking me to cook something? Sir?”
“No.” Another cuff. A yelp. “Don’t get smart.”
Levi marched off and, feeling daring, Eren jogged after him.
“I can if you want!” he gasped. For such a tiny man Corporal Levi sure could move. “Seriously. Was there something you wanted, sir?”
“Wanted? No.”
“What about something you… ‘needed’? I won’t tell.”
“No.”
“You’re sure, sir? I’m really happy to—”
“Eren.” Levi stopped. “What did I just tell you about being too useful?”
“Yes, sir! I’ll attempt to be less useful, sir.”
“So you’re going to accommodate me by promising to be less accommodating?”
“Yes!—I mean no! Wait…” Levi snorted.
“I’m f*cking with you, Eren. Take some deep breaths.”
“Right.” True to his word Eren sucked in air and blew it out noisily through his nose, oblivious to the eyes on his face. There might have been an amused glint there.
“Look at that,” Levi drawled. “Blind f*cking obedience,” but Eren only grinned.
“So there is something you want me to make, sir?” He insisted. “I was serious before. I really do enjoy cooking and I haven’t gotten a chance to since last month, so if there’s something you—”
“Maria help us all, I thought you were a quick learner but apparently not. Yes. Fine. You’ll get to cook to your little titan heart’s content. Erwin and his squad are arriving this afternoon and apparently big wig commanders need something better than the slop we normally serve. You’re in charge of dinner.”
Eren vibrated with excited energy. The white cloth slipped from his hair and Levi caught it, shoving it threateningly in his charge’s face.
“Don’t overdo it, brat.”
“Yes, sir!”
***
Eren overdid it.
Despite their success in retaking Wall Maria, very little had actually come from the victory, beyond the obvious boost in moral. Few if any buildings remained whole and the land itself was contaminated. Hanji and her team had finally proven what they’d long since suspected: that titan bodies didn’t entirely evaporate; their corpses left behind non-biodegradable material that seeped into the earth. What little they’d grown on the reclaimed farmland came out undersized, twisted, or, to those brave enough to try eating it (Hanji), so far from nutritionally sound as to resemble poison (she dry heaved. A lot). Never before had humanity been given the chance to reuse a bit of the world that the titans had dominated and the consequences of their presence proved as sobering as they were long-lasting.
They had no more vegetables than they had five years ago. No suitable grass for more cattle. It meant that there was still very little meat.
Which was why everyone went bug-eyed when Eren set down a platter before the Commander. A platter piled high with steaming, fragrant meat.
“The f*ck, kid.” Levi asked. However, his voice was nearly lost amongst all the oohs, ahhs, and whimpers of hunger:
“Meat!”
“Are you serious?”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Did you steal it?”
“I take it back—”
“You f*cking stole it.”
“—I love you, man—”
“Are you seriously serious?”
“Anything, I’ll give you anything—”
“Meat!”
“—my first born—”
“Ew!”
“He doesn’t want that!”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?”
Eren wavered under the onslaught until Erwin held up a hand. He attempted to look stern, but the smell had hit him as hard as the others. The meat was artfully sliced along a bed of leafy greens (where had he gotten fresh lettuce?) and the juices were seeping tantalizingly into the leaves. A single drop hung on the tip of one piece, overhanging the platter, and Erwin resisted the urge to catch it with a finger.
“Eren,” he said calmly. “Where did you get this?”
Eren straightened into a salute, his right fist thumping hard against his apron. “Sir! I… that is…”
“I’m afraid it’s my fault, sir.”
All eyes snapped to Gunther standing in the doorway, his hand resting on Eren’s shoulder. Erwin used the distraction to steal that wonderful, juicy drop.
“Really, sir.” Gunther continued, addressing Levi now. “Don’t blame Eren. I’m the one who gave him permission to transform.”
Dead. Silence.
It was eventually Hanji who moved. She pulled herself up onto the table and over the platter, a manic gleam lit her eyes and a thread of drool threatened to mar the feast.
“Eren…” she said. “Is it titan meat?!”
“WHAT?”
“Oh my god—”
“I take it back—”
“—no, no, no, no, no, no—”
“—you little, filthy piece of shi—”
“Nooooooooo—”
“How’d you harvest it? How’d you keep it from evaporating? Can I try? Oh please let me—”
“STOP!” Eren yelled. “JUST STOP. IT’S DEER.” He shoved off Auruo who’d taken hold of his jacket.
“Oh.” Auruo said.
“Oh no.” Hanji moaned. Eren huffed.
“Gunther gave me permission to transform so that I could catch one. Titans only attack humans right? They don’t care about animals, so the animals aren’t scared of them at all. I had to sit still for a real long while, but eventually one walked right up to me and I was able to…you know.” Eren made a crushing motion with his hand that had all of them wincing. “I wanted something special for the Commander’s visit, okay? Now are you lot going to eat or let it go stone cold?” Eren caught said Commander’s eye and blushed. “That is, sir. You should eat if it pleases you. Sir.”
With one hand Erwin patted the boy’s arm soothingly, with the other he none too subtly threatened Mike with his fork. He’d been inching the platter towards him ever since the word “deer.”
“This is more than satisfactory, Eren. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, sir!”
“Oi, Eren.” Levi had also noticed Mike’s attempts at theft and now the younger man’s ear was between his fingers, twisting and causing him to yelp. “That strategy—hunting in your titan form. Your buddy Armin think of that?”
Eren’s face scrunched. “Armin and the others are off on a training mission, sir. You know that…”
“No, sir. That was all Eren.” Gunther answered for him. He smothered a laugh.
“Huh.” Levi sat back. “Then you might not be entirely brainless after all.”
“T-thank you, sir!”
Silence descended on the hall once more. It took Eren a moment to realize that they were waiting on him. “Right. Um.” He gestured to the platter. “Help yourself.”
Pandemonium. The cook barely made it out alive.
***
Ten minutes later when the dust had settled Levi kicked a grunt out of his seat and sat down next to Erwin. They ate contentedly for some time.
“Are your dinners always like this?” Erwin eventually asked.
“Yes.”
“And is Eren always so resourceful in acquiring his own ingredients?”
“Yes.” Levi delicately cut another piece of meat. “And yes, his cooking is always this fan-f*cking-tastic.”
“Really?” Erwin smiled. “My, my. You’re not easily impressed.” He cut his own meat, savoring it, humming in appreciation. “Our dear Eren could cook for the king.”
***
There was no doubt that life was a hundred times brighter when Eren decided to cook, but it was also a fact that no one wanted to clean up the mess. (Truly full for the first time in weeks with heavy, aching bodies, who the hell wanted to clean?). Not to mention that making only a crappy, meatless stew involved the bowls, silverware, and a pot so stained you could probably get away with not washing it at all. Anything more elaborate though required another tool… or twelve.
Eren didn’t mind though. He rarely ate after cooking, preferring instead to watch everyone enjoy the dish and having the bit he’d put aside for himself later, when things were calmer. So he did the dishes himself, justifying the work with the promise that he was working up a true appetite.
Then Corporal Levi showed up.
“This is going to be a habit with you, isn’t it?”
Eren whirled (hadn’t they just done this by the window?) and found his superior leaning in the doorway. Levi’s eyes were trained on the stacks of dishes, but his hand flit accusingly towards Eren.
“You trained in hand to hand this morning,” he said. “Cleaned the east wing, transformed, cooked dinner… and now you’re washing up. What’s next? Going to muck out the entire stable, brat?”
“…Yes?” Auruo had come to him earlier, while Eren was still skinning the deer, and said that the stables needed mucking before Erwin and his men rode out in the morning. They’d already lost the light but he’d planned to get up an hour earlier. After all, they couldn’t have the Commander leaving with a bad impression…right?
“Yes.” Eren repeated when the silence stretched. Levi sighed.
Then he turned and walked away.
“Sir?”
Later Eren had to admit that the work went a lot faster with multiple hands. Levi returned, the rest of the squad trailing dejectedly behind him. He threw rags at Petra, Gunther, Eld and Mike; a drying cloth at Hanji. Auruo was shoved at the end of the line and given the bowl Eren had dumped all of the deer’s… extras into. Levi handed him a scrubbing brush. Forcefully.
Eren smiled into the soap.
“Petra, the stables need cleaning.” Levi announced. “Do that tomorrow before Erwin leaves. Make sure his horse is prepared too. You can rest while the rest of us go over the new maneuvers. You know them well enough.”
“Y-yes, sir!” Petra nearly dropped a plate, bouncing between indignation at the extra work and pleasure at the veiled comment. Levi stood at her back until the scrubbing recommenced.
Everyone worked sullenly for a time—Auruo cursing at his pot—until eventually a gentle sigh sounded behind them. A sigh hidden under a defeated growl.
“And Eren can make breakfast tomorrow.” The scrubbing stopped. “But only if he feels up to it.” Levi leveled a stern look at the boy covered in bubbles. “That’s an order, Yeager. You get me? If you collapse during training because you didn’t get enough sleep I’m kicking your scrawny ass from here to Wall Rose.”
“Yes, sir!” Eren gave a sudsy salute. Everyone was grinning now and Hanji had abandoned her post, whispering what sounded suspiciously like, “Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes,” in his ear. Eren shoved her away. “I can definitely make breakfast, sir. And I won’t be too tired. I swear! I helped my mom early in the morning for years. You can count on me, sir. I—”
“Eren.”
“Yes, sir?”
“For the love of humanity, shut the f*ck up.”
“Yes, sir!”
Eren obediently shut the f*ck up and began his cleaning with renewed determination. Everyone followed his lead, far happier with the unexpected chore now that there was a reward waiting for them in the morning.
It was only a second later that Levi joined the line. He shoved in next to Eren, causing Petra to gawk and Mike to raise an eyebrow.
“Sir…” she ventured. Petra held out her cloth. “Are you sure you don’t want to dry?”
Everyone in the squad—minus the newbie—knew that despite Levi’s desire for cleanliness, he despised actually cleaning dishes. Touching the remaining food (even the miniscule bits that were left tonight); the greasy spots where peoples’ hands had touched… it made his skin crawl. Even now he eyed the sink, body unconsciously leaning away it, but he shook his head at Petra. To everyone’s shock he snatched a dish from a still mute Eren.
“Oi. Stupid brat. You’re doing it wrong.”
***
The next morning, Hanji got her pancakes.
At the crack of dawn Petra was shoveling sh*t and Eren was riding hard towards the nearest farm, Gunther once again at his side. Eggs were nearly as hard to come by as meat and Eren doubted that Hanji knew that her beloved breakfast food contained so many rarities—dairy, flour that didn’t resemble a concrete block—but he only needed a little to make a usable batter and Gunther had once saved the farmer’s wife. Rescue from titans bought you a lot these days.
They made it back despite the sudden rain and by the time breakfast rolled around that platter was once against stacked, this time with pancakes. There was nothing to top them with but that didn’t stop the soldiers.
Erwin sat on his horse, held by a satisfied Petra. He licked his fingers and smiled at Levi’s look of disgust.
“Kid keeps this up and I’ll be visiting you a lot more often,” he said.
“Idiot’s going to burn himself out.”
“Yep!” Erwin said brightly and rode off, one hand contentedly resting against his stomach. His voice trailed back to Levi when he was only a smudge in the distance, but even far off it was clear as the new day: “That’s why you’re here, Levi!”
For his part, Eren got one pancake and a vicious cold. Did he expect anything else, up early and riding in the rain? Not a complaint passed his lips though and certainly no one, not even the greediest soldier, asked for lunch or dinner after seeing Eren’s red-rimmed eyes. Bland vegetable stew was eaten quietly that night. Levi didn’t say ‘I told you so’ to the brat, but Erwin’s voice rang hard in his ears. He kept a close watch on Eren as a stuffed head threw off his balance, making even the simplest 3DMG moves difficult. He strained the stew without comment, leaving only the broth, and after Eren passed out he snuck down to the dungeon, carrying an extra blanket.
And if Levi took a moment to smooth the idiot’s fevered brow… well, there was no one there to see.
Chapter 2: Potatoes and Roots
Chapter Text
Eren made nothing else for a two-month stretch.
Food was a necessity, good food was a luxury, and as soldiers they were expected to maintain comforts, not consume them. Rain once again proved to be an enemy nearly as fearful as the titans. When the wagon carrying their latest allotment of blades overturned, the resulting damage to the vehicle and horses meant that the blades themselves were exposed to the storm six hours longer than they should have been. Blade design allowed for some leeway—titans had to be fought in the rain too after all—but ultimately metal rusts, it warps, and when the crates eventually arrived at the castle their contents were entirely useless.
The note from Erwin arrived two days later: the loss had seriously cut into their budget. Funds for replacement blades could either come from clothing or from food.
Boiled potatoes it was then.
Winter was nearly upon them and they needed to avoid freezing more than they needed spices. Still, Levi drove all the damaged blades into the ground, sharp side up, creating a grisly semi-circle outside the castle’s entrance. Stony-faced over dinner that night he encouraged everyone to utilize their imaginations—those blades were spikes and the useless MP’s heads adorned them.
***
“I’m hungry.”
The human body really didn’t need much more than potatoes and vegetables.
“I’m so, so hungry.”
Not to survive at least.
“Sweet Maria…”
The spirit, however, was another matter entirely.
Sasha was collapsed over her horse’s neck, drooling into his mane. She might have remained there, moaning, until she became a meal herself if Mikasa hadn’t pulled her up by her hair. The sudden motion encouraged Sasha’s stomach to give a loud, unpleasant gurgle.
“Stop bitching,” Mikasa instructed. “We’re all hungry. We’ll get to eat when we stop.”
“But when will that be?” Sasha wailed. The others members of the 104th squadron all exchanged similarly frustrated glances.
“I’m not asking again,” Jean muttered.
Two hours ago he’d approached the adults up ahead, daring to ask when they’d be stopping for the night. He’d gotten only a glare from Corporal Levi in response. On a research mission to observe, not engage with the titans, they’d spent the morning riding hard towards the forest of “big ass trees.” They’d made it there without any casualties—a miracle in and of itself—and they were already deep inside. The further they went the denser the trees became and thus it became harder for anything the size of a titan to move. Thus the deeper they went the safer they’d be. Hence the relentless pace.
Hence no food.
“We should send Krista,” Connie suggested, rubbing his own stomach. “She’s sweet looking. Maybe Erwin will pity her.”
“No.” Ymir said. Krista blushed.
“Armin?” Connie continued hopefully. “Think you can convince them this is a good place to stop?”
Armin blinked. “But’s it’s not.”
“We could just take it!” Sasha whispered. “Only a little. It’s right there!” She reached a shaking hand out towards the mare carrying duffle bags full of food. Mikasa growled and started tethering her horse to Sasha’s.
Jean blew out a breath. “Oh for f*ck’s sake. Just send Eren!”
“Huh?” Eren glanced towards them for the first time, coming out of an exhausted doze. He crossed his arms, reins and all, when he realized it was Jean addressing him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
Jean rolled his eyes. “You blind, Yeager? The Corporal dotes on you. All you’ve gotta do is whimper a little—” Jean scrunched up his face and exaggeratedly puffed out his cheeks, rocking in mocking earnest. “—‘Corporal sir! Corporal sir! I’m so hungry. Can’t we stop for a bit? Oh please, Corporal sir.”
“I don’t do that!”
“—and we’ll be eating before you know it.”
Sasha made as if to latch onto Eren, babbling entreaties, but he just managed to dodge her. Determinedly, Eren pulled out of their alignment to get his horse closer to Jean’s.
“Take it back,” he hissed, saddle to saddle. “Make fun of me all you want, but not Corporal Levi. He’d never place his men in danger and certainly not because I asked him to!”
Jean snorted. “Uh huh. Spin me another yarn, Yeager.”
“He doesn’t!”
“Well then if you really believe that then you’re f*cking blind—”
“Take it back, horse-face!”
“Make me, titan!”
By this point everyone was snickering, well-versed as they were with these twos’ ‘fights.’ (Would they risk the mission and potentially, truly harm one another? Never. Happily bloody each other’s egos? Hell yes.) Everyone snickered, that is, except for Mikasa. She moved her blades a smidge closer to her dominant hand and her eyes didn’t leave Levi’s back.
Her distraction allowed Sasha to escape.
“Eren.” She came between him and Jean, nearly causing them both to topple off their horses. Having finally caught him Sasha latched onto Eren and wouldn’t let go. “Can you really convince them to give us food? Can you?”
“No! I—” Suddenly Eren quieted. His eyes strayed to a seemingly identical stretch of forest, but as they continued on his head turned to follow where they’d just been. He smiled.
“Eren?” Mikasa asked.
“Actually, I can do better.” Eren turned to Jean, his face growing serious. “Can you guys keep quiet for a minute?” He nodded to the commanders up ahead.
“Yes.” The answer came immediately.
“Good.” Eren turned, weaving through Sasha, Krista, and Connie. Mikasa made to follow but he shook his head firmly, not wanting to draw attention. Armin, however, at the very back of the group, was able to sneak off as well. Keeping a low profile. Being invisible. What had once been characteristics that brought him shame were now proving terribly useful as a soldier.
Armin pulled up beside Eren.
“What are you doing?” he whispered. Unnecessary, considering that the commanders were too far ahead to hear and their own group was pulling farther away by the second.
“Getting us food.”
Eren quickly hopped off his horse, giving him a comforting pat. Armin following suit, casting frequent glances behind him as they both crouched in the underbrush. Gently, Eren stroked the leaves of a small plant growing at their feet. To Armin’s eyes they appeared wet but Eren’s fingers came away dry.
“Oh. I’ve seen this before!” Armin suddenly cried. Eren nodded.
“You’ve drank it too,” he said. “Moonweed. Get’s its name from the leaves’ white, waxy texture. Mix it with your tea and it reduces a fever. Crush it and the oils can help sooth muscle aches. Dad used it a lot, but it’s hard to come by.”
“Because it grows far outside the wall. Like here.” Armin supplied.
“Right.”
Eren began plucking the leaves, stacking them and pressing them between a bit of cloth. He slipped them beneath his cloak. When the stems were bare he began tugging them up, knees bent and feet braced.
“What people don’t generally know though,” he grunted. “Is that the roots—are—also—
edible!” With a great heave Eren went tumbling backwards. In his hands he held a cluster of roots that were far longer than the shoots suggested.
“Here,” Eren was eager. He brushed the dirt away, broke a bit off, and shoved it into Armin’s mouth before he could protest. Armin’s eyes popped.
“It’s cool! Crisp. Like chewing fresh water,” he mumbled.
“Uh huh.” Eren bit off his own piece and hummed happily. He laughed as Armin tried to snatch more.
“Go to hell, Yeager!”
They both jumped at the shout—it was faint though. Jean. His subtle way of telling them to get a move on without the commanders knowing. Indeed when they looked, the green cloaks were nearly lost among the trees.
“We’d better hurry,” Armin said. Together they pulled up an armful of roots, letting the rest of the leaves flutter away. Within minutes they were on their horses and galloping back. Armin offered to share his water so that Eren could use the rest of his to clean the food. By the time they were back beside Mikasa there were plenty of snacks to go around.
“Eat them slowly,” Eren suggested, beginning to pass them out to eager hands. “The longer you take to eat something the more full you feel.” He gave his friends two each, hesitated, put one aside for himself, then gave three to Sasha. She clasped his hand with reverence and wouldn’t let go.
“You’re a saint!” Connie moaned, foregoing the ‘eat slowly’ rule. Ymir and Krista shared a look.
“I think I’ve been replaced as ‘God.’” She whispered, watching as Sasha bent to slobber on Eren’s hands. It was probably meant to be a kiss but, you know, she was still chewing.
“All good?” Eren asked when he’d finally escaped. Jean nodded.
“I kept up our ‘argument.’ Lazy bastards didn’t even bother turning around.” He nibbled at a root and tried to swallow his pleased reaction. “Huh. You’re resourceful.”
“Don’t sound so damn surprised,” Eren drawled.
“Oh, but I am. You sure these won’t poison us?”
“Get eaten by a titan already.”
“Right back atcha.”
Eren eyed their superiors up ahead and then moved off to rejoin Mikasa. “Thanks, man.” He called. Jean saluted with his roots.
“Like I said, Yeager. Right back atcha.”
***
That night when they camped—two-thirds of the group on guard, the rest taking their turn for food and sleep—no one seemed to notice that the 104th squadron didn’t leap upon their dinner quite as forcefully as they normally would. The only one who seemed suspicious was Mike, who sniffed at the pocket that Eren had stashed the Moonweed in. But then again, Mike was always sniffing something. They were good.
At least Eren thought they were, until Levi sat down.
“So. I’m a ‘lazy bastard’ am I?” He asked. Eren froze like a rabbit. “You know how well sound travels in this place, brat?” Levi continued. “Big ass trees must reverberate or something. For example, you can clearly hear two f*cked-up idiots galloping back to an even bigger group of f*cked-up idiots. Funny how they were separated in the first place...”
Levi growled, tugging hard at Eren’s hair when he tried to escape.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow—”
“Tell me, Eren, did Hanji scramble your brains in her last experiment or were you always this clueless? For f*ck’s sake, brat. Do you want to get eaten?”
“No, Corporal!”
“Really? Then you must want to screw over the human race by destroying the best weapon we’ve got, sh*tty as it is.” Levi snatched Eren’s left hand, pressing down hard on a bite that hadn’t fully healed yet. “Is that it then?”
“N-no, Corporal!”
“No? You’re sure? Huh.” Levi’s other hand was still in Eren’s hair, gripping it painfully at the roots. He tugged hard again and Eren yelped. “Then explain it to me, sh*t for brains. What was so f*ck ass important that you and that Arlert pansy decided to risk your lives for?”
“We were hungry, sir!”
They were mostly separate from the rest of the group, sitting at the very edge of the fire, but as Levi had said, sound traveled here. The rest of the 104th had looked away as soon as Eren’s interrogation began. Only Sasha looked over now, nodded sternly in his defense because yes, being hungry was definitely a good enough reason to risk your life. Connie had to stuff bread in her mouth to shush her.
Levi stilled. “You were hungry,” he said, voice even blander than usual.
“Yes, sir. Really hungry. See, there are these roots that—OW!”
Levi had never actually hit him—not since the courtroom—but this particular brand of stupidity seemed to warrant a shove at least. Eren toppled off of the log he was sitting on and landed ass-up in front of the Corporal. A boot immediately nudged against his side.
“You really are hopeless, aren’t you? Well fine. You want to get eaten by a titan for the sake of these idiots? For roots? Whatever. Go right ahead. You think I give a damn, you sh*tting brat? I don’t.”
Eren spat, trying to clear the dirt from his mouth. “Really, sir?” He caught sight of Jean sitting a few yards away and thought about what he’d said— about Levi ‘doting’ on him, which was still ridiculous to even think about, but still…—and determinedly twisted his neck to stare up his superior. Eren swallowed the rest of the dirt.
“I mean, cause, Corporal. It kinda sounds like you were paying real close attention, right? Like you were… listening. To me—or both of us! Not just to me. But listening for if we needed help is what I’m saying. Or, you know. Something.”
For a second Eren thought he’d gone too far when the boot pressed deeper against his ribs. But then Levi relaxed. He didn’t respond—certainly he didn’t admit to anything—but his body continued to loosen until he slid, leaning over Eren until they were nearly nose to nose. They stared at one another for a long, drawn-out moment.
Abruptly, Levi stood.
“I changed my mind,” he said, hands curling into fists. “Suicidal or not, don’t you ever f*cking run off like that again. That’s an order. Understood, Yeager?”
Levi didn’t wait for him to respond. He stalked off and Eren was left giving his answer to a retreating back. It came out a little shaky but more than loud enough for the whole camp to hear.
“Y-yes, sir!”
***
At the end of their mission—thirteen lost—Eren couldn’t tell if the tension in his Corporal’s shoulders was from sitting in a saddle all week, losing a handful of men, or even—just maybe—if a little came from the odd exchange they’d had six nights before. Like maybe the Corporal had really been worried. A tiny, selfish part of Eren hoped that he had.
Regardless, he slipped some Moonweed into Levi’s tea and yearned for that to be enough.
Chapter 3: Coffee and Alcohol
Chapter Text
When Eren did get to cook he always had company.
Armin and Mikasa would stay whenever they could— Armin chatting away, Mikasa cutting vegetables or peeling potatoes, anything to make herself useful. When they were called away for one chore or another Jean would arrive to yell at him, Connie to bother him, Sasha to beg, Krista to tease, Ymir pulling her back by her hair, Auruo followed in Jean’s footsteps (so long as his insults didn’t actually deny him food), Petra eventually came in looking for Auruo, Eld wanted a taste, Gunther wanted two (“You owe me, Eren!”), Levi avoided the kitchen entirely, no doubt because Eren tended to get messy when he worked.
At least, that’s what Eren assumed.
Even when the others were busy though there was always one silent, warm presence at his back: Mike.
He said he liked the smells.
“Sure you don’t want to try it?” Eren asked. He held out a spoon dotted with sauce but Mike just shook his head.
“Things never taste they same way they smell,” he said.
“Yeah, guess not. I’ve heard coffee’s like that anyway.”
“Mmmm.” Mike leaned away so that the memory of coffee wouldn’t be swept up in the scent of Eren’s—admittedly delicious—dinner. “As a squad leader I’m paid a reasonable amount, enough for a treat every season or so, if the merchants aren’t being dicks.” Eren stilled. It was probably the most Mike had said to him at once, so of course that was the time the pasta water decided to boil. Loudly.
“I tried coffee once,” Mike continued, immune to Eren’s frantic movements. “I’d gone into the interior to make a report and one of the MPs wanted to kiss ass. He gave me a cup. I’ve toyed with the idea of splurging for another ever since.”
“Is it really that expensive?”
“I’ve heard that only one district has the plants that grow the beans and that the process itself is incredibly time consuming.” Eren nodded, remembering the long hours he’d spent preserving foods as a child. Anything truly delicious took time. “Generally only the royal family and the highest ranking officers have access to it. Pixis or Erwin could probably get their hands on some.”
“Really?” Stirring, Eren smiled. He had a sudden, vivid image of presenting something that rare and wonderful to Corporal Levi. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so sour about the whole roots thing.
“Does the Corporal like coffee?” he asked, still stirring innocently. Mike side-eyed him anyway.
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason! Just thought it would be cool if we could get him some. You know.”
“Uh… huh.” Mike was silent for a time before he abruptly threw his arm around Eren’s shoulders. Everyone was used to him getting close for a whiff but beyond that he generally avoided physical contact. Eren staggered. Part of it was the unexpectedness of the action, but mostly it was just because Mike was huge and his arm was seriously heavy.
Mike just grinned and patted Eren’s head a couple of times. “I don’t know about ‘we,’” he said. “But I’m sure the Corporal would love getting some coffee from you, Eren.”
“… Really?”
“You bet! So what do you say? Gonna give it a go?”
“… yes? Yes! Yeeees…?”
“Great. Looking forward to it. Oh and give me a holler when dinner’s ready. I want to grab a plate early, before Auruo gets in and steals it all.”
Mike left, which in and of itself was odd because he always stuck around for all of the cooking. He left Eren with sauce on his apron and an angry pot of boiling water, wondering what the hell had just happened and why the hell he’d just agreed to give his Corporal an impromptu coffee-present.
Of course, he would like to give Levi something. A gift to act as a thank-you of sorts: thank-you for allowing me into the Survey Corps. Also for not allowing me to kill anyone as a raging titan. Also for not killing me either. Yet. That kind of stuff just seemed like it needed acknowledging.
Jean’s voice was still ringing in his ears too. Eren didn’t believe for a second that Levi “doted” on him, even if everyone did point out how Armin was given three weeks cleaning duty for his part in their escapade while Eren was only told to serve dinner—something he was happy to do anyway. That still wasn’t “doting.” But Eren wouldn’t mind doing the doting himself a bit, not if it were for Levi. Sometimes, what with everything going on in their lives, it really seemed like he needed it.
Coffee then. It was perfect. Of course, Eren was still left wondering how in the world he was supposed to get some.
***
Days later, Commander Pixis outright laughed at him when Eren asked.
“Coffee!” He chortled. “Well now. Can’t say it’s my drink of choice but even if it were, that stuff’s hard to come by. What do you want coffee for anyway? You’re young enough that you don’t need the caffeine.”
“Caffeine?” Eren blinked.
“Chemicals, kiddo. Helps keep you awake.”
“Oh.” That really was perfect then. Not only was coffee supposed to taste fabulous but the Corporal was always complaining about how little sleep he got. He claimed it was because ‘hormone-driven subordinates’ kept him up at night. When Eren realized what the Corporal meant by that he’d blushed so hard Hanji thought titan steam was going to start coming off his cheeks.
“You do know how expensive coffee is, don’t you, Eren?” Commander Pixis knelt down, smiling at him. He only seemed amused at the extravagant request.
“Yes, sir. I do, sir. And I’ll give you my wages every month until I’ve repaid you. With interest!”
“Now, now, I don’t think that’s necessary. We need Humanity’s Hope to have money for his own expenses, right?” The chuckling resumed. “You still haven’t answered my question though. Why the sudden interest in coffee? Young’un like you, I’d expect a request for chocolate or some other sweet.”
Eren’s mouth watered at the mere possibility but he stood his ground. “No, sir. Just coffee. And it’s not for me, sir. I’d like to give it as a gift to Corporal Levi. As a thank-you.”
“Ooooooooh. Now I see. A thank-you, is it?” Commander Pixis began laughing again and Eren wondered exactly what was so funny about this situation. “Well I truly am sorry, Eren, but I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Suddenly, every bit of humor dropped from the Commander’s expression. “There’s no reason for you to have known this, but the only district that grew the beans was a victim in the latest breach.” Eren’s stomach dropped. “They weren’t decimated—strong lot we’ve got out there—but it will take time to rebuild and—”
“The fields won’t be usable for a while,” Eren finished. “Not after the titan corpses have polluted the soil.” Commander Pixis nodded. “I see.”
“Now don’t go looking so down, Eren. We need that smile of yours as much as we need your titan power. Maybe more.” Pixis rose to his feet and brushed dirt from the tops of his boots. “You want to give that sour-mouthed shorty a gift? Well no one said it has to be coffee. He’ll enjoy anything you give him, though whether he’ll admit as much is another matter entirely.” The chuckling came back again full force but Eren just gave a sharp nod, trying not to show his frustration.
“Oh don’t give me that look, kid. C’mon.” Pixis began leading Eren back towards the room he’d been staying in while visiting the troops. As they walked he pulled his familiar flask from the inside pocket of his jacket. “I’ve got a bottle of vine tucked away that’s older than your grandfather, Eren. I thought of opening it the day you moved that boulder but I just couldn’t bring myself to. With some things joy comes in having it”—he took a long swing from the flask—“for others it’s just knowing that you could have it that makes it worthwhile. If I couldn’t open that gem when we took back Trost then I doubt I’ll ever be able to. Not unless the rest of our vine dries up, and wouldn’t that be a damn shame.” Commander Pixis offered the flask to Eren who resolutely shook his head. “You’re welcome to the bottle, Eren. If you’ll have it, it’s yours.”
“Wha—? Really?” Eren halted. “But, Commander. That’s, I can’t—”
A firm hand slapped his back. “Sure you can! You deserve it, and don’t try telling me otherwise. Drink it yourself or give it to Humanity’s Shortest. Maria knows he could do with a drink.”
“T-thank you, sir! I will, sir!”
Commander Pixis winked, opening his door and beginning to ruffle through his bags. “Don’t you worry now, Eren. Mark my words. Levi will love it.”
***
“What kind of sh*t is this?”
It was clear that Levi didn’t love it.
“It’s… for you, sir.” It was also clear that he wasn’t going to take the bottle so Eren hesitantly placed it on the desk. Levi didn’t exactly sneer at it, but it was a near thing.
“I don’t drink, brat.”
Oh.
Eren felt his cheeks heating. Still, it was an honest mistake. How was he to have known that the Corporal didn’t drink? And yet the look Levi was giving him said that he should have known.
“I don’t drink,” he growled. “You don’t drink—”
“Well yeah, sir. I’m fifteen…” The Military Police still enforced the traditional drinking age of twenty-one, but only within the interior. No one really cared if a kid had a bit of vine or not. If they could manage getting ahold of some, then good for them. The only alcohol in the Yeager household had been what his father had used to sterilize wounds and Eren had been forbidden to touch it. His first taste had come from Commander Pixis up on top of the wall (sour and burning the lining of his throat) and it hadn’t endeared him to alcohol much. It seemed cruelly fitting then that once again the Commander’s attempts to be kind to him would backfire, though that still didn’t seem fair. He’d been assured that Levi would appreciate the thought behind the gift even if he disliked the gift itself and… oh wow. He was still glaring.
“Corporal?”
“No. Wrong.” One finger poked at the bottle’s cork. “Your age hasn’t got sh*t to do with it, Yeager. None of us drink. We’re not the Garrison and we sure as f*ck aren’t the MPs. We’re soldiers, or have you forgotten?” Eren shook his head. “Then use that lump of meat between your ears and tell me this: what would happen if we were drinking and suddenly needed to suit up?” Levi paused, allowing the consequences of such a scenario to sink in. “Or worse, brat. We’re outright drunk and there’s another breach in the wall.”
“sh*t.” Eren said.
“Damn right, ‘sh*t.’” Abruptly Levi turned the bottle and peered suspiciously at the label. “Where the hell did you get this thing anyway? It’s ancient…. and covered in dust…” His fingers scrunched with distaste.
“The Commander. Ah, that is, Commander Pixis, sir. Not Erwin.”
Levi snorted. “No sh*t it wasn’t Erwin. Sina help us. He’s handing it out by the bottle now, is he?” He gripped said bottle by the neck, lifting it up. “So. What did you want for this anyway?”
“…Sir?”
Levi looked up briefly, only to drop his eyes just as fast. “You don’t need to bribe me, Eren. Really. If you want something just damn well ask for it.”
Eren straightened and his words came out as firm as his resolve. “Not bribery, sir. It’s a gift. To thank you for… for…” he felt the heat again, up high on his neck now. “Just for everything, sir.”
Eren had been looking out the window behind Levi’s head but now he dared to look down. His corporal was still holding the bottle of vine. Staring at it.
“Everything?” he questioned. “What exactly is it that I’ve done for you, Eren? Tell me, because I’m curious.” Levi didn’t give him a chance to speak though. His fingers tensed around the bottle’s throat. “I beat you up. Accepted you into a position that’s going to result in your death. Spoke insensitively about cutting off your limbs, demanded that you fix a situation you had no more power or understanding of than I did, handed you over to that sh*tty four-eyes like you were a slab of meat...” Levi’s other hand rose up to cradle his cheek. He continued to stare stonily at the vine. “I did keep you from being dissected by those pig bastards. Suppose that’s something.”
“It is, sir.” Eren hastened to say. He’d never seen the Corporal like this, tired and speaking like he’d go on speaking, unflinchingly, even if Eren were to leave. He was pretty sure he didn’t like it.
“You’re also the only one, sir.” He added. “In the beginning at least, the only who didn’t view me as a monster.”
“You are a monster.” Eren winced.
“Yes, sir. But…” Eren took a deep breath, trying to stem the trembling in his chest. “You said it had nothing to do with my titan powers. That I’m a monster because no one can control me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m uncontrollable.” Levi’s eyes rose, almost tentatively. “I don’t think ‘monster’ means the same thing to you as it does to everyone else. Sir.” Eren swallowed.
They stood in silence for a long breath. Eren standing tall, Levi finally looking at instead of through him.
“Well f*ck if you’re not smarter than your dumbass face suggests. Fine. C’mere.” Levi straightened his arm and extended the bottle, shaking it when Eren didn’t immediately take it back. “I had a dinner in the interior once you know. They fed me chicken that was dry as a virgin’s ass, but the sauce was sinful. Had an alcohol base—apparently. So do better. Go forth and do what you do best, brat. Work yourself to the bone if it gives you that tingling feeling down south. You wanna impress me? Go right ahead. At least this way the other brats will get fed too.”
“Yes, sir!” Eren took the vine back, grinning. The atmosphere… it was lighter now. His fingers brushed Levi’s as the bottle was passed and there was no urgent need to pull away. “It’s a bit like Mike’s experience, isn’t it?” he added. “He said an MP tried to bribe him with coffee.”
“Same dinner, genius.”
“Oh. Well, that’s really what I wanted to get you, sir.” Eren admitted. “Coffee.”
“Cof—?” Levi stilled. “You are insane. Do you have any idea… Get the f*ck out. No—out. Now. f*ck it all if you think I have time to deal with your insanity. Just… out. And Eren? No more gifts.”
Levi waved him away sharply and turned back to his paperwork. The slightly hollow look about him had returned more quickly than Eren would have thought possible. The word “gifts” came out a little softer than it should have and Levi’s hand on the paper wasn’t quite as steady. So it was that for the first time Eren didn’t answer his Corporal’s order with a resounding, “Yes, sir!”
He snuck out of the room, suspiciously silent, and hoped that Levi didn’t notice.
***
They didn’t have any chicken—not even chicken dry as a virgin’s ass—but they had enough salad to fill the serving bowl three times over. More than enough for everyone, twice as much since it was only Levi’s squad tonight. Eren collected the freshest leaves and shredded the last of their carrots. He baked bread for a side and filled up all the blank spaces with nuts and seeds in an attempt to make up for their lack of meat. All of it was then drenched in a hot salad dressing, the vine so delightfully potent that it had Levi pausing over the first bite. He nodded at Eren and began working at—delicately—out eating Auruo. He seemed a little more relaxed now. Eren supposed that time, even a few hours, would do that.
“It’s magic,” Eld moaned. “I never thought I’d like salad so much. Eren. You’re sure you’re not a wizard or something?”
Eren placed down another jug and it was immediately set upon. He’d boiled the rest of their tea and, when it came out weak, just overlapped the flavors with mint he’d found out in the garden. Everyone was enjoying that too, if the trips to the bathroom were anything to go by.
“Take that up with the MPs,” he said. “One of my guards thought my titan transformation was magic, you know. I always keep herbs on me when there’s a battle or even when we’re just training.” Eren patted the inside pocket of his shirt, hidden under his apron. “Mainly those that help against pain, some for energy too though. Anyway, no one found them when I was first locked up so when I was alone with this guard at one point I, ah, ‘accidentally’ dropped them while washing.” He bit his lip to keep from chortling. “I’ve… never seen anyone call for backup that fast.”
Levi set down his fork. “When the hell was this?”
“Not really sure.” Eren said brightly. He scooted more salad onto his Corporal’s plate. “Sometime before the trial, obviously. I’m not even sure how long I was in there though.”
“Four days. f*ck, Eren. Were you trying to ensure your execution?” Levi stabbed a bit of carrot viciously.
“I take it the ‘backup’ was a little more levelheaded. You weren’t burned at the stake or anything.” Petra smiled up at him.
“Yep. They seemed to realize that this guy was crazy superstitious. Didn’t even bother reporting it to the higher ups—hey!”
Hanji had finished her own plate in record time and was now pawing at Eren’s chest. One might have thought that she was trying to tear his clothes off… which was pretty much what she was trying to do.
“Hanji! No, stop, what are you—Corporal! Help!”
“We’re eating, brat.” Levi said. “Don’t shout at the table.”
It was only when Eren’s apron was gone and his shirt was halfway up to his ears that Hanji pulled back. She clasped his packet of herbs triumphantly.
“Ooooo, Eren.” She gushed. “Look at you! Cooking, doctoring… I sense a love of order. You’re a scientist at heart, I know it! You should really let me teach you.”
“No. Please no.” Gunther muttered. “There can’t be two.” Hanji ignored him, carefully opening up the packet to peer inside.
“Ah! Look at all this! Milkweed, Honeysuckle, shredded briar and… oh. What’s this one?” she held up a springy plant with purple buds. It drooped heavily between her fingers.
“Don’t touch that!”
Eren’s shout startled them all. Some just dropped their utensils, others gripped their forks like weapons. Eren made use of the confusion to snatch the plant out of Hanji’s hand, debated a moment, and then hid it stubbornly behind his back. One might have thought Eren was embarrassed… except that the tops of his arms were shaking and an uncomfortable sweat was beading his brow.
“Eren?” Levi prompted.
“It’s… Night’s Flower,” he admitted, wincing when everyone went still. “It’s a poison. So please don’t play with it. Just one bud will—”
“We know what it is, Eren.” Petra’s voice came out higher than usual. “At least I do. Though I’ve never seen it before…” Eren nodded and swallowed.
“I traded a lot of food for it,” he whispered. “A bit of cloth too. But I didn’t want…” he hesitated, then surged onward with a shaky breath. “Not everyone dies quickly,” he announced. “I’m not saying we should give up! No, but what if you’re bleeding out? Or you’ve lost your horse? If you’re surrounded or—”
“Eren.” Levi interrupted him. After a beat he resumed eating, silently commanding everyone else to do the same. Forks returned to being tools. A moment later his voice came again, even and soothing. “Every one of us keeps a sheathed dagger in our boots. We understand.”
“What?”
Instinctually Eren glanced towards Hanji’s legs. She nodded, drawing hers out just enough for him to see. It was small, only slightly larger than a pocket-knife, but more than enough to cut rope… or a throat, if need be. With a soft apology she handed him back the herbs. He quickly hid the Night’s Flower away while she made her dagger disappear again.
“Sorry, Eren. Though you should, ah, think of getting one yourself. Plants lose potency.” Eren could only nod.
They ate quietly then, the serious turn of conversation hanging over them all. Eren wondered if it would always be like this: happy, simple dinners turning towards death. Gifts for Corporals turning towards… something. He wondered when the turn would come again.
That is, until Eld abruptly gave a tremendous—and obviously fake—yawn.
“Getting really sleepy here, Eren. Reeeeeal sleepy. You sure some of the Night’s Flower didn’t slip into our meal?”
***
Commander Pixis arrived at the tail end of dinner, having spent the night finishing a letter to Erwin. He’d heard that Eren would be cooking with his vine—and wasn’t that an interesting development?—and thus he expected to find only a small portion of food remaining for him, with his subordinates quietly, diligently eating. Eren’s cooking, after all, was becoming quite legendary.
Instead what he found was six soldiers playfully screaming about attempted murder, a titan-shifter defending himself with a butter knife, and a Corporal, the only one still seated, furiously muttering about how he’d never, ever accept a gift from “that damnable brat” again.
Pixis just managed to obtain a serving without losing a limb. On his way back to his room he alternated between filling the halls with laughter and bemoaning the fact that an alcohol dressing couldn’t get him drunk.
Chapter 4: Cakes and Shaved Ice
Chapter Text
“You cooked without us?!” Jean yelled.
“Whaaaa you cooked alcohol without us??” Connie had his priorities straight. He ignored Armin’s lecture about the alcohol cooking off and instead opted for punching Eren in the arm.
“Ow! What the hell, man?”
“Don’t touch Eren,” Mikasa growled, then turned around and punched him in the other arm.
“f*ck! Mikasa!
“You should have saved us some.”
“You try saving food around those guys! Commander Pixis barely got any and it was his vine.” That was enough of that. With a scowl Eren rode ahead, calling out behind him, “I’ll buy you each a shaved ice, you big babies!”
That was a pretty safe promise. With the weather finally warming there would be plenty of venders selling the treat and it was fairly inexpensive. This was the last time they’d be heading into the market for a while and Eren wanted to make sure he had enough money to find an actual gift for Levi.
Ever since that day in his office Eren had been watching his Corporal closely—well, more closely than usual: how with each death or setback, though is his face remained blank, Levi’s fists curled with a strength that could only be viewed as punishing. How he spent whatever free hours he had giving extra training to the new recruits, or keeping their castle clean, or even just sitting with those who didn’t know how to ask for company, and he treated all of these actions like responsibilities instead of the favors they actually were.
Few deserved a gift as much as Levi—not something cobbled together, or shared between soldiers—and even fewer people owed Levi a gift as much as Eren.
He smiled into the wind, blocking out the sounds of his friends behind him. He’d find something at market and present it with more gratitude than he’d managed with the vine, no matter what Levi had to say about it. Maybe he’d even find something special enough to warrant a small smile…
Eren was torn out of his fantasy when a hand clamped down hard on his shoulder.
“Oi, brat. Are you deaf?” It was Levi, and he wasn’t smiling.
He pulled his horse up alongside Eren’s. The steed’s height, for once, allowed them to be eye to eye. “I’ve been calling you, sh*t-for-brains,” he grumbled.
“Sorry, sir! Uh… are you coming with us?” Eren shivered under the look of disgust he received.
“Of course I’m coming with you, idiot. What, are we going to entrust a titan to a bunch of greenhorns?” Levi jerked his thumb towards the rest of the Special Operation Squad who were hurrying to catch up. “You’re my responsibility. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Understood, sir.” Eren gripped the reins and dropped his head, wondering furiously how he was supposed to find a gift for Levi when Levi was right beside him.
***
The nearest market was nearly an hour’s ride away and by the time the buildings came into view Eren was more than happy to dismount. Levi wasn’t a bad riding companion, just… quiet.
As soon as he’d ditched his friends Eren likewise found himself cut off from them, the rest of the Special Ops squeezing between him and the 104th. It was easy to see what they were doing: Corporal Levi and Corporal Levi’s squad, creating a protective barrier between a fearsome titan and the rest of the world.
That barrier remained even when they’d reached the stables and left their horses behind, and Eren was only now beginning to realize just how much it was needed. Not because they actually thought he’d lose control—he hadn’t, not since Hanji realized that he needed a specific goal in mind to transform—but because he was a known figure now. The church had spread flyers bearing crude sketches of his face throughout all the districts—“Titan Child! Beware!”—and even if they hadn’t, it wasn’t difficult to figure out who the fifteen-year-old was, pinned under the watchful eye of Humanity’s Strongest.
No sooner had Eren stepped out into the sun then there were whispers and looks thrown his way. No doubt most of it was just from seeing a group of Survey Corps soldiers out and about, but not all of it. Eren could feel Levi just an inch from his back.
“You go on,” he said and Eren jerked, thinking for one insane moment that Levi meant him. He was looking at Petra and the others though. “Spread out. I want every area of this sh*t-show covered, just in case someone decides to play ‘hero’ and rid the world of one more titan.” Eren gulped. Levi scoffed. “Relax, brat. You think I’m letting anyone touch you? Don’t insult me.”
That probably shouldn’t have cheered Eren as much as it did but he wasn’t given the chance to think on it. Levi was already gripping him by the shoulders, preparing to brave the crowds.
“Well? Get going.”
“Yes, sir!” Petra answered. She rocked a bit, dithering. “But we’re supposed to have fun too, right?”
“If you must.” She laughed, throwing them both a salute.
Within the walls they weren’t allowed to use their gear but that didn’t mean that Petra and the others couldn’t still move. They were gone in seconds and Levi took that as his cue. He shoved Eren forward.
“Corporal!”
It was Mikasa. She lunged forward desperately but they were already marching away. “Eren should—”
“Not go with you, rookie.” Levi finished. “He’s my pet today. Find someone else to fawn over. 104th!” His voice rose. “You’re in charge of buying the supplies. Oh, and if every cent you spend isn’t accounted for you’ll be cleaning the lavatories—for forever.”
The last glimpse Eren got of his friends was all of them congregated around the cart they’d use to transport everything back. Mikasa had one hand on the top left corner of the wood. Her nails were leaving grooves.
“I’m in trouble,” Eren muttered. “You’re in trouble. Or you would be, Corporal, if Mikasa could actually do anything to you.”
“Damn right. That’s a big ‘if,’ Yeager. Now march.”
They wove their way through a sea of people, going so deep that eventually even the curious looks died down. Everyone was too busy going about their own shopping to care about the men in green cloaks. They moved too quickly for Eren to get a good look at the wares too and they didn’t slow down until there were more houses than stalls. Finally, on a street where there were only three people heading in the opposite direction, Levi moved to fill the space on Eren’s right and slowed to a languid pace. He shoved both hands in his pockets and breathed out.
“Sir? Don’t you need to do any shopping?” Eren asked.
“So long as your friends don’t f*ck things up I shouldn’t have to. That Arlert kid should be able to follow a list at least.”
“Right.” They walked two more streets, each more deserted than the last. “Don’t you want to shop?”
“Not particularly.”
“Okay then.” Five steps. Eight. Twelve. Twenty-six. “Maybe if you—”
“Eren.”
He turned at the address and his eyes were drawn to his Corporal’s hands. They were clenched—in a punishing grip—and Eren’s stomach dropped.
“Sir?”
“Do you have any idea how noisy you brats are?” Levi asked. His voice was surprisingly soft. “It’s quiet out here and I need to stretch my legs after riding. I want to walk and since I’m stuck babysitting you—ah f*ck.” Levi took one of those hands and ran it over his eyes. “That didn’t come out right. I want to walk and I don’t… mind walking with you. Since you’re already here. Got it?”
“Got it, sir.” Eren said. Levi stared at him.
“Do you want to go back?” he demanded. “I need you in sight, but I can keep my distance if you want. Watch you from a f*cking tree or something—”
“No, sir. That’s alright, sir.” Eren reassured, but Levi kept going. He rocked back on his heels, looking oddly hesitant, and Eren felt his chest throbbing.
“Seriously, brat,” he said. “You deserve a day off.”
“Okay. Well, I’d like my day off to be with you, Corporal.”
“…Really?” Levi drawled it, but Eren got the sense that it took a lot of effort to pull that off.
“Yes, sir!”
“Don’t shout, idiot. If you’re going to walk then f*cking walk.”
So they walked.
That should have been the end of things and had this been like the stories that Armin’s dad used to tell them, the rest should have been simple. Eren would have walked peacefully with his Corporal for the rest of the day. They would have traversed the quiet streets together, perhaps occasionally murmuring about this or that, and Eren, at least, would have returned content. Even if when they stepped back into the crowds with every stranger's face turned his way, marred with fear and disgust, he would have been proud to still be occupying the Corporal's side. Honored and humbled and so very, very pleased. That's what it should have been.
Instead they met the boy.
Or, rather, Eren met him. Roughly half an hour after deciding to continue their walk Levi nudged Eren against the nearest wall, ordering that he stay. Bristling at suddenly being addressed like a dog (especially after their conversation) Eren had demanded to know why… and was promptly asked if he really wanted to accompany Levi as he, "pissed longer than all the Corp's horses combined."
Arms crossed protectively over his chest, Eren shook his head. "Ah, that's alright, sir. I… think I'm good."
"You're sure?" Levi strode closer, playing with the buckle of his pants. Eren squirmed until his shoulder blades dug against the brick behind him. "You can watch if you really want to, brat. Is that what you like? Hm? Watching?"
"N-n-no, sir. At least… not that." Levi snorted, a sound that shockingly resembled amusem*nt, but when Eren got his vision cleared his Corporal's face was as stony as ever.
"Good, because it's f*cking disgusting. Now be a good little titan and don't move from this spot." Levi actually rose up on tip-toe to pat Eren's head. It was no doubt supposed to be humiliating, but Eren hummed and leaned instinctually into the touch.
"Tsk." The hand was snatched away and Levi marched off, perhaps a tad more quickly than necessary. Then again, maybe he just really needed to go.
Eren was contemplating the strange actions of walking, peeing, petting Corporals when he turned and suddenly found a miniature him standing tentatively at his side. Brown hair, grey eyes, torn tunic, and bare feet. The child even had the same smears of black on his forearms that came from scrambling up pipes, a necessary skill if one wanted to avoid the Military Police. This little boy looked so much like him that Eren frantically glanced around, half expecting to find a tiny Mikasa and Armin in tow. Instead, the child scrunched both hands into his filthy tunic, right above his belly. Even if Eren hadn't done the same action himself hundreds of times before the sign was universal: I'm hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
"Oh," Eren said.
He never hesitated. Reaching beneath his cloak—slowly, so as not to frighten the boy—Eren drew out his purse and tipped out a small handful of coins. It didn't even register that this was what he'd been saving to buy a gift for Levi with. All he knew was that he didn't have anything edible on him to give and that these cold pieces of metal were the next best thing. Reaching out, a brief remembrance from the past caused Eren's hand to freeze. An old part of his brain screamed about parting with something that he could use to feed himself and his family, but the soldier part, the well-fed part of him, quickly took command once more. Eren knew better than to approach so he tossed the coins on the stones between them, trying to make sure they didn't roll too far. Quick as lightning the boy was on his knees and that brief moment of vulnerability was worth it, for in seconds the money was scooped into his shirt. He ran off just as fast as he could and the last image Eren saw was a sliver of his exposed belly, the skin beginning to bloat with malnutrition.
Then the hand clamped down on his wrist.
Eren was once more forced up against the wall but this time the Corporal was none too gentle about it. He used his elbow and knee to maneuver him, pressure forcing Eren to cry out. When they were settled in their painful stance Levi rested his lips right near Eren's cheek and growled softly.
"What the f*ck was that, Eren?"
"What was what?" Eren bucked. He'd normally never attempt to throw off a superior but this was the most violent Levi had gotten with him since the courtroom and that small part of Eren's brain was still screaming about how fighting or fleeing were his only options. The orderly rules of the militia had no place here.
But Levi was strong. For all of his short stature he easily kept Eren pinned. The only way out of this would have been to transform and Eren wasn't nearly so far gone as to attempt something like that. Even if he had been, Levi had both his arms pinned with one hand, wrenched round between his back and the wall. Eren's fingernails crunched against the brick.
"You're seriously gonna to get pissed because I gave out charity?" Eren asked. Levi's arm pressed harder against his windpipe until Eren choked. He had just enough breath left to hiss, "He was hungry, sir. You're the one always going on about how there's not enough food for everyone. That the MPs and political pigs steal it all. Well, we should do something!"
"You think you were being charitable?" Levi asked. He glared up at Eren. "f*ck. Yes we should do something, brat, but not like this. Do you have any idea how f*cking dangerous that was?"
"Dangerous! He was just a kid."
"Yes, and that kid has friends. Or worse, enemies." Levi finally released him and Eren staggered. He barely had time to regain his feet before he was being dragged back the way they'd come, Levi's nails digging hard into his wrist.
"You know how we feed kids like that, Eren?" he snapped. "We expand. We go outside the walls, into f*cking hell, and we find fruit and game to bring back. We use those creepy powers of yours to retake that land, wait for those disgusting carcasses to stop polluting it, and actually grow something worth putting on a table. You don't hand out a bunch of coins and feel f*cking good about yourself for a week. That's not going to get sh*t done."
"Well so what?" Eren wrenched his hand away, forcing them to stop. "So what if it's not going fix everything? We can do both, you know. He at least he is going to eat tonight." Levi wasn't listening though. He just kept reaching for Eren's wrists or arms, determinedly trying to drag him away. Hardly thinking, Eren slapped the hand when it came at him and stood his ground. "Would you just listen to me?"
"No." Levi finally stopped. He stared past Eren at something behind him. Eren turned quickly but there was nothing there. "We need to leave, Eren, because you know what you just did? It wasn't charity. It was a goddamn invitation. That kid is going to go and tell everyone he knows about the pretty-eyed Corps boy with a sh*t-ton of gold. If he's lucky. If he's not someone older and stronger will beat him, take your money, and then torture the kid until he admits where he got it from. Either way, there's going to be a pack of wild, hungry animals stalking us any minute now. So why don't we go."
Eren only stared, horrified. "No one would do that."
"Like you'd know, you pampered—"
"I do know!" Furious, Eren stalked forward until they were nose to nose. Never before had he been grateful for his height but now it gave him leverage, if only a little. Levi had to bend back in order to maintain eye contact. "I know because that used to be me!" He swung out his arm, pointing fiercely towards where the boy had run off. "Did you forget where I came from? What, you think everyone from Trost was just handed warm beds and hot food?" Eren laughed, harder than he had in months. Head to the sky he missed Levi flinching. "Those of us who were too young to be sent on that suicide mission landed here. On these streets. I was that boy, sir, and I can tell you that no one would attack someone like that, not when they'd just handed us our meal for the night. We depended on charity, and we depended on each other. Hell, Armin wouldn't even let us steal a little bread! He got it earlier than I did, sir. No one's going to help you if you stab them in the back and everyone needs help in this world." The words "even you" seemed to hang between them, but neither was willing to acknowledge it. Levi, with all the grace he could, moved back while Eren crossed his arms stubbornly.
"If you don't believe me," he bit out. "Then wait. We'll see if anyone comes to steal the rest of our stuff."
Levi hesitated, but eventually settled back against the wall, putting a good six feet between him and Eren. They waited and Levi remained tense the entire time. His eyes followed every shadow and his hand never strayed from the dagger hidden in his boot, but for all of that no one came charging around the corner. There was no one but the rats and the occasional poor mother, returning with her own, meager shopping.
Finally, when the sun was beginning to set, Levi moved. The day had given Eren's temper time to cool. He turned as well, preparing to apologize for his tone if not the subject. To his shock though he found Levi saluting him.
Eren returned the salute and, silently, they began heading back.
***
It wasn't until they'd made it to the town's center that Levi came closer, closer than he'd been in hours. Ignoring Petra's frantic waves he whispered against Eren's ear in a sharp parody of their earlier argument.
"Either we come from very different worlds, brat, or you're a very different kind of man."
Levi left then. He brushed off Petra's worried questions and ordered the wagon to be tethered to the extra horses. That done, he grabbed hold of Eld and pointed back towards the market. Money was exchanged and Eld ran off, one hand taming his cloak against the wind.
Eren simply stood as everyone began preparing to pull out. He wondered exactly what Levi had meant by that and whether being a different man from his Corporal was something he wanted. Was it better than being a monster?
"Hey," Connie. He slung an arm around Eren's shoulders. "You okay, man?"
"… Yeah. I'm okay."
"Great! Then, ah…where's the shaved ice?" Eren finally looked up and found an entire squad staring back at him expectantly.
***
After a day like he’d had all Eren wanted was to ride back, do his chores, have dinner, and get to bed. Instead he rode back, did his chores, had dinner… and proceeded to make shaved ice.
There had been no time to pick some up, despite the fact that they’d waited around another ten minutes for Eld to get back. So with night fully underway and the air chilling Eren took the cleanest pans he could find, filled them with boiled water, and stuck them beneath the trees outside where they might actually manage to freeze. While that was happening he made the syrup: raspberries and a hint of sugar taken from the day’s supplies, along with lots of warm water. All of it was crushed and heated and stirred until it had thickened into something delicious. By that time nature had actually managed to make ice so Eren set to shaving. He could have been done a lot sooner but Mikasa preferred her ice as fine as possible. She said that any chunks ruined the consistency and, tired as he was, Eren had to agree. His small pocketknife scraped rhythmically for a good two hours.
It was nearly 2:00am by the time he was done. Paper couldn’t be wasted for such a frivolous thing so Eren forwent the actual cones and instead just piled it all in three communal bowls. The syrup was poured over top and the whole thing promptly delivered to the rooms they’d been using as their barracks.
“Eren?” Mikasa’s bedhead was something fierce when she peeked out from their room. She blinked down at him. “Are you okay?” Just behind her Eren could see Krista and Ymir lying together. They also raised their heads.
“Yeah,” he said tiredly. “Just—here. I made you all shaved ice. Eat it before it melts, okay?”
Gently, Mikasa took the bowl. It looked for a moment like she’d chastised him for working too hard, but then her eyes softened when she smelled the raspberries. They’d always been a favorite of hers.
“Thank you, Eren.”
“Not a problem.” He nudged her arm and held up the other bowls. “Gotta deliver these too.”
“Who’s the third one for?”
Eren thought about explaining, but it was far too late and he was far too tired. Mikasa seemed to understand. She nodded and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Slipping back inside Eren could just hear her waking the others.
“Sasha.”
“Uhhhghhhhhh.”
“Eren made us food.”
The girl’s cries (Sasha’s cries) succeeded in waking the boys before Eren had even made it down the hall. Armin shot out, followed by Connie hiding behind him and Jean tripping over them both, already trying to get his pants on. There was really nothing better than thinking you were about to head into battle and instead having sweets shoved in your face. Eren had never had anyone look at him like that before—like he was a god—not even after he’d plugged up that hole. If he weren’t so tired he might have milked it a bit.
As it was he trudged upstairs, his squad mates’ happy cries echoing in his ears.
***
The downstairs had all been converted into bedrooms—why would they be any further from the exits than they needed to be? They were soldiers after all—while the second floor became offices. Levi’s was at the very end of the hall and his light was sill on, as Eren had known it would be. The Corporal slept even less than he did, though whether that was due to nightmares or the work of a high ranking officer he couldn't be sure. It was private though and at that point privacy was all Eren really cared about. Barely knocking he slipped inside. Levi's shoulders were nearly as slumped as his own. Wordlessly, Eren placed the bowl on the desk, exactly where he'd placed the bottle of vine weeks before. This offering was received more cordially, with Levi immediately pulling it forward. He picked the bowl up even though Eren had accidentally dribbled syrup and left the sides all sticky.
"Is this an apology for your… insubordination?" Levi asked. Eren liked the phrasing of that.
"Yes, sir," he said, swaying slightly on his feet.
"Good." Levi bent and pulled out a tiny box from the top-most drawer. He shoved it at Eren. "Here's mine."
Prying off the top Eren found a miniature cake. Flourless, undecorated he still knew that it had cost a small fortune. The sweet was no bigger than the smallest coin that Eren had given away that day.
"So that's where Eld ran off to," he murmured. Levi came around the desk, though Eren hadn't even noticed him standing. He reached for his wrist and this time Eren let him take it.
"Eat it tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
"And go straight to bed. You're dead on your feet."
"You too, sir?"
Levi nodded, if somewhat reluctantly, so Eren meandered his way back down to the dungeon. He shut the door and locked himself inside. The box was placed on his bedside table. It was the last thing he saw before falling asleep and his last thought was that even after all that tension he was still supposed to be the one giving the gifts, not receiving them.
But the cake was also the first thing Eren ate upon waking and it was delicious.
Shockingly, uncompromisingly delicious.
Chapter 5: Salt and Tears
Chapter Text
When Commander Erwin came to visit again everyone expected Eren to cook. Even, it seemed, Commander Erwin.
"Here." Right off his horse Erwin came to stand before Eren. He pulled a small pouch off his belt and plopped it into his hand. Eren's eyes went wide at the shifting texture, but Erwin stopped him before he could even open his mouth.
"Don't go saying you can't accept it. Think of this as a test, but a test where you really can't fail. I just want to see what you can do, Eren." Erwin nodded to the men behind him. "We've brought plenty of produce and even caught some game on the way, so you have plenty to work with. There’s some extra sugar too if you’d like it.”
"Sir…" Eren was still mesmerized by the feeling beneath his fingers. He subtly pinched the inside of his wrist. "How much did…?"
"It cost? Oh, just my right arm— kidding, Eren! People often give me things and I enjoy giving in return. So scat.” He gently turned Eren back towards the kitchen. “Go on. Don’t worry about chores or training. I'm giving you the day off to plan and cook."
“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Hardly breathing Eren ran off as ordered. When he’d gone Levi snuck up behind his superior.
"What are you planning?" He eyed the taller man, but Erwin only shrugged innocently.
"Me? Absolutely nothing."
***
Eren sat huddled in the back corner of the kitchen. There was one tiny table with three tiny chairs and Mikasa and Armin had claimed two of them. The pouch sat between them on that tiny table, leaving them wide eyed. Hesitantly, Armin extended a finger to poke at the cloth. His nail sunk away, disappearing, and a rustle sounded just like a sigh. The three soldiers sighed in turn.
"Where do you think he got it all?" Armin whispered. Mikasa responded by snatching his hand away.
"I don't care where the Commander got it. This is Eren's chance to show everyone exactly what he can do and they'll finally appreciate it." She stared at the pouch with a disturbingly earnest expression.
"Appreciate…?" Eren's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about Corporal Levi, aren't you? Mikasa we've been over this!"
"I know that third bowl was for him."
"Well yeah, but—"
"And he never once thanked you, did he? All that work and he’s not the least bit grateful. Even Sasha has better manners.”
“Mikasa, he gave me a cake.” But she wasn’t listening.
“I saw you last week, Eren. He said something in town that upset you, yet a few hours later you're—you're… positively catering to him." Mikasa took hold of Eren's hands. She squeezed and squeezed until he gasped. "Eren. That asshole doesn't appreciate you. He's not worth your affection."
"Affe—?"
"It's about time you got over this foolish crush."
"Crush!" Eren ripped his hands away. "I don't have a crush on the Corporal!"
"Yes you do," Armin said flatly. He shot both of them a sheepish grin. "C’mon. Are you really going to deny it? No, wait. Seriously, just hear me out for a second, both of you. You do have a crush, Eren. Maybe... more than a crush…?" Armin waved at them. He sat up imploringly. "No—Listen! You do and I think that's okay! I mean, look at where we're living." His voice suddenly dropped and his arms opened, encompassing not just the kitchen but also everything within the walls and outside them. "Guys, seriously. Listen. It's hell out there. We've seen it. Is it really so wrong to cling to a bit of happiness, no matter where we might find it?" Armin turned to Eren. "Even if we don't like the source?" Mikasa. "Eren, beyond destroying all the titans what is it—here and now—that would make you happy?"
Eren hesitated but his answer came out strong. "I want to be useful,” he admitted, squirming uncomfortably. “To all of you… but also to Corporal Levi. I want to do something, give him something, that will make him happy too. And I would like him to appreciate me…" he added. To which Mikasa nodded sharply.
"I figured," Armin said kindly. He smiled. "Though for the record I think the Corporal already appreciates you more than either of you realize."
"Then he'd best start showing it," Mikasa growled at the same time that Eren grumbled about it not really being a crush. Not really, really. He toyed with a loose thread and Armin drew their attention back to the pouch before Eren could demolish his whole shirt.
"Let's aim high then.” He said gently. “C'mon, Eren. We'll make a meal that'll impress the Commander, the Corporal, and garner everyone's appreciation.” Mikasa was still nodding vigorously. “If you can’t do it with this then you can’t do it at all."
"Right!" Reverently, Eren pulled the string and allowed the pouch to fall open before them. With a sudden, mischievous look he held up a finger until Mikasa and Armin did the same. "A good cook always tests his ingredients," he said. Catching on, all three of them gave their fingers a quick lick before dipping them one by one into the pouch. They came away glistening and with feral intensity they popped the digits into their mouths.
"Salt." Armin moaned. "Sweet Rose, I haven't tasted salt since we were kids!"
Mikasa rocked forward, removing her finger reluctantly. "It tastes like how I imagine the sea would," she said. Then, softly: "We'll get there someday, won't we, Eren?"
"The sea…" he murmured. His eyes flew open, darkening with promise. "Yes. We all will. You, me, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Krista, Ymir… Levi. You can dump him in the ocean and I'll fish him back out. Then we'll both have a bit of happiness. Okay?"
"Okay," she whispered.
Armin grinned. "Okay."
“The sea.” Eren straightened. "Guys. We need Eld. I know just what we're going to make."
***
Twenty minutes later the three of them were south of the castle where the only natural stream for miles ran.
"You're insane, Yeager," Eld said, yawning into his cloak. "You have any idea how long it takes to catch one of those buggers? Besides, there are only so many of them left nowadays." He blinked. "Where's Mikasa?"
"Starting the bread. She knows our mom's recipe." Eren hopped to a portion of the stream that was almost entirely free of rocks. "Here, Armin?"
"Looks good!"
Eren grinned over at his bored, dubious chaperone. "C’mon, Eld. You should have more faith in me. Besides, how many titans have tried fishing before?" and with a vicious bite to his hand Eren grew fourteen meters, filling the woods with hot smoke.
It did take a bit of practice, though luckily Armin had been right about Eren's hands being big enough to cover the width of the stream. Every time Armin spotted a dark shadow flitting beneath the water's surface he'd give a holler and Eren would scoop—water, pebbles, weeds, and everything else flying up onto the bank next to Eld ("Would you watch it, Yeager?!")
They left just forty minutes later, positively drenched, but with twelve glistening fish in tow.
***
For the first time Eren demanded solitude in the kitchen. Having good ingredients could take you far, but not all the way. He didn't know why the Commander wanted to "see what he could do" but Eren was determined to give it his all. Even if he hadn't wanted to impress Erwin, seeing Levi enjoying his meal would be worth it. So what if he… liked Levi a little more than the average subordinate? Armin was right. Was that really such a bad thing? And cooking for his friends—
cooking for Levi—brought Eren a kind of peace that was growing harder to come by. He’d have continued it even if Levi hated him and hated his food, which Eren was pretty sure he didn’t. The Corporal wasn’t a man to indulge in things he didn’t find enjoyable, or at the very least practical. If he didn’t appreciate Eren’s cooking he’d have given it to someone who did; fed another person who needed it. But he always cleared his plate, that’s what Mikasa failed to notice. Appreciation of the silent variety.
Eren supposed the real question was whether it was just about the food. He recalled Mikasa’s first attempts at cooking as a child, how he’d forced down her burned bread just to see her smile. Eren wondered, half kicking himself, if Levi would ever clear his plate just because he liked Eren, not because he liked the meal.
So of course, having demanded solitude and while thinking furiously about his Corporal, Eren ended up running right into him.
He’d been chopping onions for the soup, fumes rising up to well tears in his eyes. They stained his cheeks and Eren had long given up on scrubbing them away. When he’d heard footsteps he’d whirled, thinking it was someone sneaking in for a peek or a taste, but it was only Levi. They came an inch from colliding. Eren pulled up the knife he was holding and Levi rocked to keep his balance. He carried the rest of the produce that Erwin had brought.
“Oh. Sorry, sir. You can just set that over th—”
“Who did this?”
Eren jumped back as Levi suddenly stalked forward again. Dropping the crate he flew at him, grasping his shirt to pull them close together. One hand rose to trace the path of the tears on Eren’s cheek but Levi stopped just short of touching him.
“Who did this?” he hissed again. Dumbly, Eren noted that his Corporal had the same, intense expression now as when he went into battle. “Was it Kirschtein? Or that sister of yours? I saw her interrogating you, Eren, so don’t f*cking deny it. You—” Levi’s mouth suddenly snapped shut, only to open again in an inhumane growl. “Was it one of Erwin’s men? Did they make you cry? Those co*cksuckers were making passes at Petra earlier today. I swear on all the walls, Eren, if they’ve so much as—”
“Wait! Stop!” Eren stumbled backwards until his thighs hit the table. Grasping blindly his thumb caught the edge of the knife, he cursed, threw it, found the onions instead, and thrust them at his superior. A large streak of blood marred the skin before his own flesh began to knit back together.
“Onions!” Eren cried. “Corporal. Corporal. I was chopping onions.”
“Onions?” Levi was still growling, still red, but the sounds were tentative now and the angry flush was beginning to creep down to his neck. “You’re telling me you cry about onions, you little sh*t?”
Eren was getting a better sense of the misunderstanding now. Shaking—but not from crying—he bit down on his lip. “No, sir. Onions literally make you cry. When you cut them they release… something. I don’t know. Ask Hanji, but they do. I swear. Here,” Eren peeled back a layer of skin and held the food directly under his nose. Unbidden, a fresh stream of tears flowed. Eren made sure to keep his smile fixed in place. “No one… upset me, sir. I promise. Really, I’m fine.”
“I see.” Levi ducked his head and delivered a swift tap to the crate by his feet. “My mistake. Why don’t you get back to work then, huh? Stupid brat. We want to eat before the sun comes back up, don’t we? I swear I’m surrounded by f*cking fools.” Levi turned to escape, head still ducked, only to find Erwin standing in his way. He leaned against the doorjamb and his grin was huge.
“Have everything you need, Eren?” he chirped.
“Yes he does.” Levi answered for him. His snap was fierce and he left at a brisk pace, snagging Erwin’s sleeve as he passed. “Get to work, brat. And don’t use those onions. The last thing I want is to ingest your f*cking disgusting titan blood.”
“Yes, sir!”
So Eren worked, but he did so with his own, tentative smile.
That at least was one question answered.
***
When Eren approached the dining room later that night there was an electrifying mix of excitement and apprehension. He found everyone there, scrunched together around mismatched tables. The 104th at the far end, then Levi's squad, Erwin's men, Erwin, and finally Levi himself, just a foot away at the head of the table. He raised an eyebrow at Eren as if to say, "Aren't you going to serve us, brat?" and the hostility seemed a tad… overdone tonight. That was fine though. Eren understood. Before he could step forward however, Mikasa took him by the arm.
"I'd like everyone to take a moment to thank Eren," she said, loud and clear. Her voice echoed up to the rafters. "All of you." No one missed that she was staring directly at Levi. Everyone began crying out for him though. Eren knew that they were truly grateful for the work he’d done, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to think that this particular gratitude stemmed from anything other than wanting to eat. He shook his head at them all.
"Thanks, Eren!"
"Thank yoooooou."
"I love you, man. So much love."
"—yes, yes thanks and gratitude—"
"T-H-A-N—"
"—can we eat it now?"
Every voice could be heard… except for Levi's. Instead he waited until the idiocy died down and then tipped his chair back. He balanced ridiculously far until he could see Eren behind him and then gave him a firm nod. It was small, but their eyes met and Eren knew that the gesture was well meant.
Mikasa seemed to miss the memo though. It was Eren's turn to grab her as she began to stalk forward.
"He means it," he whispered desperately, directly into her ear. "I can tell, Mikasa. Trust me."
Eren's own words made him blush and Mikasa just gave him a pitying look in return. She did slow though, and eventually sighed. She looked a little as if she’d swallowed one of his lemons.
"I always trust you, Eren."
"Ahem." Commander Erwin leaned forward, interrupting them. "Eren?" he prompted.
"Right! Ah, here we are…" Taking his cue Armin came in with a tray, followed closely by Eld. Both were laden with bowls and baskets of bread. "It's three courses, sir, so please pace yourself."
The excitement in the air grew. "Courses" was a word that hadn't been in anyone's vocabulary for a very long time and hands itched to take up the food. Eren gently steered Mikasa towards her own seat.
"Oh! And please think of the sea." Eren went red again when every head swung his way. He avoided looking at the Corporal. "That is… the sea inspired this meal. Freedom, sir. Retaking our world. Please consider these things as you eat. Thank you."
"Thank you, Eren. A meal with a noble theme." Erwin took up his spoon. "You needn’t worry. I'm impressed already."
***
For the first and only time the Survey Corps were entirely silent as they ate. Eren served a fish stew with diced vegetables, seasoned with local herbs and a large pinch of the Commander's salt. It was accompanied by his famous bread, timed so that it could be eaten directly out of the oven. Eren caught a glimpse of Hanji, normally so animated, breaking open a piece and just sitting, eyes closed as the warmth rose up to tickle her nose.
The second course consisted of the rest of the fish, salt encrusted and sprinkled with the juice of those very expensive lemons. Eren didn't want to overwhelm the dish with too many sides so he added only a bowl of roasted potatoes, topped with a bit of thyme. This was the only course with conversation as comrades helped those who'd never eaten fish before learn how to safely remove the bones. Everyone, amateur and master alike, succeeded in stripping each bit of flesh away.
Dessert had taken the longest. Eren started with a simple crust, flakey and golden from a little butter. He then carefully—oh so carefully—made the caramel, cooking the water and sugar together until they caramelized. He’d actually had to go through this process twice. The first time the sugar burned and the second time he could tell, immediately, that the color just wasn't quite right. By the third time though Eren was able to remove his pot from the fire with a satisfied sigh. The smell that had filled the kitchen assured him that the ingredients he’d wasted had not been sacrificed in vain. The sauce was poured overtop his crust and allowed to harden until just a slight spring remained. Only then did Eren sprinkle a large helping of salt on top. He cut the sweet into tiny pieces, artfully arranging them on the four white plates that had managed to remain unchipped over the years. He thought back to his conversation with Armin and Mikasa—what little bits of happiness was he looking for in their lives? Carrying that dessert out to the hall and presenting it to his friends, Eren identified that as a moment. A little slice of peace.
The treats were gone in minutes.
Erwin finally sat back, fiddling with his ration of tea. All at once he let out a soft laugh and pushed the steaming cup away. He smiled brilliantly up at Eren.
"Normally I'd be all over a cup of tea after dinner but I don't want to erase the taste of your meal," he said. Erwin traced his lips with a finger as everyone nodded. They appeared almost comatose. Auruo, Eld, and Gunther leant together in a single, droopy line. Krista was indulgently being hand-fed the rest of Ymir’s dessert. Mike's chin rested on the table, nose an inch from the empty dessert plates. Petra had apparently forgiven Erwin's men for their earlier, lewd comments and languidly shared a hot towel between them to wash their hands. Hanji leant precariously back in her chair, arms hanging, while Sasha scraped the fallen salt out of the wood's crevices. The other girls hung like puppets with cut strings, as did the boys, though they attempted to look drugged in a manly sort of fashion. Mikasa and Armin gave him lazy smiles of congratulations. Only Levi was animated. He reached forward and snatched up Erwin's cup, muttering about how if he didn't want the tea he sure as hell wouldn't let it go to waste. Eren watched as the cup rose to his lips… but Levi's throat never moved. After a moment he set it back down, still full.
"Ahhhhh," Hanji sighed. "I feel like I could discover all of the titans' secrets! Provided I had a good nap first," she winked at Eren.
"Yeah, Yeager." Jean yawned. "After that meal I'll help you reach the sea. Hell, cook like that some more and I'll take you to the other side of the world. We'll just… do it later."
Gunther groaned. "Got it in one, rookie. Later is good."
"Eren is amazing," Mikasa stated sleepily and for the first time everyone simply nodded in acceptance.
"Well, the lot of you are useless." Levi stood and stretched, causing everyone else to moan in sympathy. He glared bleary eyed at them all. "Go to bed, everyone. Nothing else is getting done tonight."
Eren started forward. "But, sir… what about the dishes?"
“Dishes?” Levi's hand twitched, no doubt at the thought of leaving dirty plates to fester all night, but to everyone's shock he shrugged. "f*ck them."
"Wha—! Sir, I can—"
"No you can't, you imbecile. If I'm tired from eating your food than you're dead tired from cooking it. Touch those dishes and I'll hang you up by your thumbs."
Eren blinked. "...Yes, sir."
His friends were passing him by then, rubbing their faces and dragging their feet. Each had a small gesture for him as they went: a wave, a pat, an awkward one-armed hug. One of Erwin's men, a giant stuffed into a Survey Corps uniform, planted a sloppy kiss on the top his forehead. Eren nearly toppled under the force but the guy just straightened him, giving Eren a companionably squeeze before moving off. Only Armin kept his distance. He walked on the other side of the table, behind their superiors. He glanced at Levi and then the dishes piled on the table. He raised an eyebrow at Eren.
Eren frantically waved him off, but not before he gave a tiny nod in return. Yeah. He knew that meant something too. He wasn’t that stupid. Hell, he’d hate to see the look Armin would give him if he’d seen Levi’s reaction to him crying…
"Oi. Go to bed, Eren." Suddenly hearing Levi’s voice made him jump. Eren looked back, but Armin was already gone.
"Okay, sir. Just…” Confirmation couldn’t hurt, right? “You, ah, enjoyed the meal?"
Levi and Erwin stared at him until a small, forceful hand shoved him forward.
"Don't ask stupid questions, brat. You're smarter than that…” But Eren didn’t move. Finally, Levi rolled his eyes. “It was f*cking magnificent. Is that what you want to hear? Sina and Rose, how did I end up with such a narcissist. At least there wasn’t any titan blood."
“Titan blood?” Erwin squawked.
Levi stilled, then hunched a bit as memory resurfaced. “You’re going to bed now, Yeager,” he growled.
"Yes, sir." Eren grinned and beat it before he ruined it.
Again walking that familiar path down to the dungeon Eren felt a heavy numbness covering him like a cloak. He knew that come tomorrow everything would hit him at once. He'd be disgusted with the mistakes he’d made in his own cooking, yet pleased by his friends' praise. There'd be disappointment that there wouldn't be another meal like that for some time to come—if ever—and annoyance at the cleaning they still had to do. Above all there would be embarrassment at Armin's pointed statements, Levi’s words… but also a little hope as well.
Sure that he was alone, Eren raised a hand to his cheek, then stopped. He almost touched it, just as Levi almost had. That embarrassment began surfacing about ten hours too early.
In the end Eren stayed awake that night, despite the ache in his shoulders and the grit in his eyes. He sat with his back to the bars and stared at the dungeon wall, imaging that it was a window that he could see the stars through. Eren thought about a lot of things: washing windows and catching deer, useless swords, grilled pancakes, pulling roots and slipping Moonweed into tea. Knees pulled consciously beneath his chin, Eren thought of Levi shoving him against the wall at market and how that might have turned out differently if they hadn't been fighting. Would tonight have been different, if Levi had actually touched his cheek? Eren wasn’t sure he wanted it different. He closed his eyes and tightened the muscles in his legs, picturing Levi forgoing tea in favor of tasting his meal. He thought about how his rest was more important than clean dishes.
It was that realization that forced Eren to his feet and into bed. The least he could do was try to sleep. As his head hit the pillow Eren worked backwards through the day and, suddenly, smiled into the darkness.
That. That was it exactly.
He knew just what he'd give to Levi.
***
"So are you impressed?" Levi asked, one hand muffling his yawn. He and Erwin were the only ones left in the corridors, the castle silent.
“I know you were,” Erwin challenged. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so quickly.”
“Only because that sh*tty four eyes was eyeing my plate.”
“And I definitely heard some distinct shouting in the kitchen. Something about disemboweling the men who’d made Eren cry?”
“Your hearing is going in your old age. I never said ‘disembowel.’”
Erwin chuckled. He heaved out a breath that was full of food and contentment. “Alright. To be frank I was impressed, Levi. Tremendously so. Eren has gifts beyond his titan powers, to be sure. Cooking, the ability to inspire confidence in others…” he cast another sly glance at his comrade. “He’s somehow wormed his way into the heart of a particular Corporal I know…”
“Keep talking, Erwin. I’m sure Eren would love to try cooking tongue.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop while I’m ahead. A good strategist always does.” They’d come to Erwin’s door. He toyed with the handle while Levi kept back, arms cross and eyes averted. “Though I’m also a gambler, Levi, and I would place all my cards on you both being able to find happiness together.”
“I will gut you.”
“Of course.” Erwin went to leave but at the last second Levi stopped him.
“Come on, Erwin. What was all this f*ckery about? Or did you simply get Eren to cook so you could stuff your gob?”
“Well that was certainly part of it. No, no, calm down, I told you before. Eren’s good. Very good, in fact. He could cook for the king.”
Levi’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. So?”
“So he’s going to, Levi.” With a final smile Erwin slipped inside. He ignored Levi’s stunned expression, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Chapter 6: Honey and Lye
Chapter Text
To say Eren was shocked was certainly an understatement. He took great, calming breaths as Levi explained it all.
“Now don’t go getting all high and mighty, Yeager,” he said. “It’s all just a ploy on Erwin’s part. He’s apparently been talking you up for months, ever since he visited last fall. Of course, it’s all f*cking nonsense. You’ve never even had any formal training, right? Though I suppose that’s part of the appeal. I hear those pigs in the interior, the king included, get bored with all their riches and their finery.” Levi sneered. “Apparently the idea of having a solider, titan-child, and Humanity’s Hope—oh yeah, you’re “Humanity’s Hope” now, brat. What a pair we make, huh?— having you cook the Midsummer feast is quite… exciting to them. That’s apparently what pigs consider entertainment nowadays.” Taking up a pen Levi brandished it at Eren like one of his swords. “What it all comes down to is that the king had decided to personally fund our next expedition if you agree to cook, which you do, and if you succeeded in not f*cking it up, which you won’t, we’ll all come out the better for it. Got it?”
Eren nodded. Then shook his head. He nodded again.
“I’m cooking for the king?” he asked.
“Oh for f*ck’s sake, yes. Get out. Go plan a meal. Erwin said it was seven dishes. Or was it eight? Some absurd number, I’m sure. f*cking hell, Eren. Do us all a favor and sneak some food for yourself. If you don’t come back at least three pounds heavier I’m crowning you as the most stupid child that’s ever entered into our ranks.”
“Yes… sir?”
“Damn straight, ‘yes, sir.’ Hop to.”
***
None of his friends were allowed with him on such a trip, but that didn’t mean they didn’t send him off with a bash worthy of the military police. There wasn’t much food involved (who’d dare cook for Eren on such occasion?) but Jean managed to get his hands on a whole damn crate of vine (no one knew how, Eren suspected Pixis) and Connie cleared out the castle’s basem*nt for them to party in (the one and only time he’d willingly clean). The entire time they were sneaking away Eren heard the Corporal’s voice in his head—“We don’t drink, brat”—and his vision was filled with horrific possibilities. But Jean and Mikasa were more than strong enough to drag him down, protesting as he was. Eren still might have found a way to put a stop to the fun if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of Levi while they were skittering away. He was hidden in the shadows of an adjacent hall, just leaning there, waiting for them. Or rather, waiting for Eren. As they passed he looked to the crate and then held up a single finger, an ambiguous gesture that Eren nevertheless understood: Just this once, Yeager, it said. Only. Once.
Eren smiled brilliantly until Levi was out of sight.
Since then he’d heard hear muffled footsteps above them—the rest of the Special Ops, staying alert all night to compensate for the 104th. Eren supposed that was their sendoff gift to him. For hours he and his friends been hanging around, drinking, with no one coming to tell them off. It was one of those wonderful kinds of nights.
“You’re cooking for the king!” Armin gushed. He waved his vine bottle for emphasis, spilling a bit on his tunic. “The king, Eren! Do you have any idea how great this is?”
Jean snorted. “Don’t tell me you think it’s an ‘honor,’ squirt?”
“Wha—? Oh no. No, no, no.” Armin shook his head wildly. “Ew no. The Corporal’s right. They’re all pigs.”
“Fat pigs,” Sasha giggled.
“That’s not nice, Saaasha.” Krista slurred. Laughing, Ymir kept trying to give her pigtails but Krista wouldn’t stand still. She wandered over to Armin, pointing at him sternly.
“Not pigs. They’re… they’re… chubby sows,” she said. Brightening, Krista drank happily. “Chubby sows! So much nicer!”
“Sows are the girls,” Jean protested.
Ymir grinned. She finally caught hold of Krista and dragged her back into her lap. “Well that works our great then yeah? f*cking MPs.”
“Did you—” Sasha hiccupped. “Did you just insult us?” She waved her hands in front of her breasts. “Us girls, Ymir!”
“Ew. Whatever.”
“Guys!” Amir spilled more vine to get their attention. “Listen—listen—sweet Sina no one ever listens to me. Noooo. This is great for strategy. Think big, guys! The king will pay for this mission, yes, buuuuuut this will also establish a link between the survey corps and the royal family! Who knows what else they might provide us with? Funding for more horses or funding for more swords or, or…”
Sasha’s giggles developed into sobs. “Funding more food.”
“Eren’s cooking them food they’re not going to give us food, Sasha! The vine’s gone to your head.”
“Yeeeup.”
“This is important.” Armin insisted. “Like, really really important.” He knelt down beside Eren. “You’re important.”
“Ah. Thanks, man.” Eren covered his mouth, hoping that Armin wouldn’t see him laughing. Despite having Levi’s one time permission he still hadn’t felt comfortable drinking too much. It was much more fun watching everyone else deteriorate anyway. Even so, Eren was about to sneak the vine away from Armin when he felt an arm encircling his waist and found one Mikasa Ackerman very, very close. She stared at him for a while and then turned her look upon everyone else. She lifted her bottle.
“Eren is important,” Mikasa announced and then drank. That, apparently, was that.
“…Thanks, Mikasa. I think.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Eren.”
“… Right.”
Jean shook his head, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. “Eren this, Eren that. We all know what’s gonna happen here,” he said. “Eren’s gonna go off and cook all this f*cking fantastic food—food we won’t get a chance to try, I might add.” Sasha whimpered. “Then he’ll come back, brag brag bragging about his efforts, yap yap yapping about meeting the king. We’ll high tail it over the walls in another month’s time to become food, but I’ve got a feeling we’ll all make it back just fine. Then no doubt Eren will be credited for that too.”
“Hey, asshole. Whatever happened to that nice Jean who promised to get me to the sea?”
“Shut it, Yeager. I ain’t done yet.” Jean examined his bottle. “Gonna need more vine for this.” He tipped it back and drank deep. “Listen up because I’m saying this once. You’re spectacular—ah shut it! Sometimes. Just—shuddup. You’re gonna be spectacular with this feast business too because if you’re not I’m gonna kick your ass from here to Wall Maria.”
Eren stuck out his tongue. “You know, Corporal Levi said something very similar.”
“Did he? Well there you go. Do well so you can impress your shorty boyfriend.”
“Wait—that’s not—Levi’s not—”
Jean raised his glass. “To getting Eren Yeager laid!”
“YEAH!”
Eren buried his face into his hands. “Oh sweet Sina.”
***
The next day Eren had only a slight headache from his misadventure but the trip soon made even that forgettable. The interior was everything Eren had imagined it would be and more. Everywhere he saw people who were dressed cleanly—if a bit simply—and whose hair had obviously been washed recently. There were no beggars and certainly no rats. The paving beneath their carriage was so smooth that Eren periodically snuck glances out the window, half convinced that they weren't actually moving. Really, he was torn between standing in awe of what humanity had managed to accomplish despite its setbacks and recoiling in disgust at the men who could keep all this for themselves. Eren watched as a lovely woman pulled water from a well. It sparkled in the sunlight, fresh and cool, and unbidden questions rose to the front of his mind. Why did her children get a cup then and there while he, Armin, and Mikasa had been forced to boil all the water they'd drank?
Eren sat back against the cushions. Commander Erwin quietly wrote reports with a hand slanted from the carriage's rocking. He didn't seem bothered by what was around them. Though then again, if rumors were to be believed he'd grown up in the interior. Food, clothes, books, a position of power… and yet he'd joined the most dangerous branch of the military, and had even taken on Levi as his right hand man. If their camaraderie didn't prove that two people from different worlds could get along then Eren didn't know what would. And surely, if a man from the interior and a man from the underground city could become close, then a man from the underground and a boy from the slums could too?
"Okay there, Eren?" His head shot up. Erwin was quite literally smiling down at him, standing as he was outside of the carriage. When had they stopped?
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Not to worry. It's easy to get nervous your first time visiting, but you must believe me when I say that those of the interior are just like you or me."
Climbing down the first thing Eren saw was a man the size of four Corporal Levis waddling past.
"… Right, sir. Just like us."
***
"I'm… cooking here? I'm cooking here. Commander…"
Erwin didn't even bother confirming these portions of Eren's monologue anymore. He'd done that throughout the entire trip: "We're taking this carriage? I'm wearing these clothes? We're stopping here? Commander, I don't think we should actually touch that…" Eren's eyes were a tad bit wider now though, so Erwin gave him a swift pat on the back. The poor kid stumbled forward.
"What? You thought the king had his meals cooked out of a scullery?" he asked.
"What I think…" Eren said slowly, faintly. "Is that killing titans is a whole lot less intimidating than this, sir."
The kitchen was, well, a kitchen. An actual, fully stocked cook's room that was about three times the length of the one the Corps' utilized, and easily twice as wide. That was saying a lot too, considering that Eren was used to cooking out of a castle's gallery. Still, he'd never had this many… supplies before. Counters the size horses dominated the room's center, littered with knives, spoons, and other odds and ends. Barrels lined the walls and, looking up, Eren could see various pots and pans suspended above him on intricate hooks. There were six ovens, three spice racks, an entire room—just visible in the left-hand corner—devoted entirely to meat. The sight alone made Eren’s mouth water. As if the size and extravagance of the kitchen weren't enough, the whole room had an aura of chaos to it—but controlled chaos. There were at least twelve other cooks there, bustling about as they performed various tasks. They'd arrived just before the noon bell and no doubt these women were preparing lunch for the royal family. The fact that there was a lunch at all boggled Eren's mind. Soldiers ate small bits of bread when they first awoke and a slightly more substantial breakfast once the sun was high in the sky. You got on with water and whatever else you could scrounge up until dinner. This wasn't just astounding, it was unparalleled.
One woman ran past, nearly barreling Eren over. He spotted some strange, curved tool in her hand but he hadn't a clue what it was used for. Eren suddenly felt very, very small.
"Commander—"
"Listen up!"
Eren jerked at the sudden shout, as did every cook within the vicinity. Sometimes it was easy to forget that kind, gentle Erwin was their leader for a reason. The spell was quickly broken though and the women finally seemed to realize that there was an official standing in their midst. They dropped into mismatched but sincere curtseys. Eren had a strange desire to bow in response before Erwin's hand settled on his shoulder.
"This is Eren Yeager," he announced and some of the women immediately began whispering. "He's the cook who will be heading this year's midsummer feast." The whispers grew into a roar. "Millie? Millie Fryan?"
"Yes, sir?"
A straight-backed woman came forward. She had grey in her hair and the skin not covered by her long-sleeved dress was wrinkled like a raisin, but her eyes were as clear as any soldier’s. She tucked the spoon she'd been holding into the front pocket of her apron and stood even straighter, arms clasped firmly behind her back. Eren could only assume that this was the civilian cook's version of a salute.
"Sir?" she questioned again. Her voice had a steadiness that came from much use.
"Ah, Millie. So nice to finally meet you in person. You received my letters, yes?"
"I did indeed, sir. Pretty hand you've got. I had the head maid translate them for me and wasn't surprised one bit to hear pretty words as well."
"You can't read?" Eren blurted and immediately shrunk back when her gaze snapped his way. Millie's answer wasn't unkind though.
"Never had much need for words, boy." She said. "Not of the written variety at least."
"Oh. But… what about recipes…?"
Her lips puckered sourly. "Now don't go telling me you rely on something like a recipe to cook with!"
"No, ma'am, but…"
"No 'buts' then. I've been cooking since I could stand on a rickety stool and reach the pots. Don't you go telling me about no 'buts.'"
"Yes, ma'am."
Erwin's head swiveled back and forth, clearly enjoying the exchange. He coughed politely into his hand. "Millie, as I mentioned before I'd like you to be the one helping Eren. He has full control over the menu, but he might need some assistance… adjusting."
"Of course, sir. Happy to help." The other women dropped into a final curtsey. Commander he may be, but the kitchen was as far from Erwin’s territory as you could get. That gesture was clearly a dismissal. He began heading for the door as Millie turned to Eren. "Let's go, boy."
"G-go? Now?"
Strong hands settled on hips. "We've got three days to plan this thing, no menu yet, no ingredients ordered, all of this for the king, and you're asking, 'now'? Yes, now!"
Millie grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and marched off, Eren in tow. Panicking, he managed to catch a glimpse of Commander Erwin waving goodbye before he too was lost in the kitchen's steam.
***
"You think Eren's having fun?" Jean asked, brushing down his sixth horse.
Sasha tugged inconsolably at the mane of hers until he pulled away. "I bet he's snatching tastes of all kinds of great foods!"
"Or getting in good with the higher ups. Not like Pixis and Erwin don't already love him," Connie grumbled.
"Wonder if he's living in the royal castle."
"Bet he's got a fireplace in his room."
"And a featherbed!"
"Now that's just not fair…"
"You're right, sh*theads. It's not f*cking fair." Suddenly the 104th had a pint-sized, pissed off Corporal bearing down on them. He stopped in front of Jean, snapping up the brush he'd dropped when he noticed that Humanity's Strongest was just a step away. Said brush was smacked against his head—wood side.
"Ow!"
"You know what's also not fair?" Levi asked. "The fact that I've got a whole squad of snot-nosed, idiotic brats working under me and yet—still!—nothing seems to get done. Not the laundry, not the dishes—Springer, I just came from the downstairs bathroom and if you think that's 'clean' then you got trampled by a titan as an infant. I'm not taking a sh*t in there until every seat shines like the f*cking sun. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Connie squeaked.
"The rest of you can redo whatever it is you think you accomplished this morning because no doubt it sucks. And you know what? After that, f*cking do it again. If you lot aren't sore in places unmentionable by sundown then we'll be seeing how well cleaning gets done in the dark."
With that Levi left. Not stomping exactly but… heavy-footed.
"He's been a little upset lately," Armin ventured.
Jean sighed, rubbing at his head. "Eren needs to come home."
"Well he won't be coming home if he's got the King's food, a personal fireplace, a featherbed…"
"Then we'll kidnap him!"
"An excellent plan." All heads turned to regard Mikasa. She watched as Levi slipped back into the castle with what could only be described as a look of empathy crossing her face. She continued to stare long after their Corporal had disappeared and occasionally she nodded to herself. It was a long moment before she went back tending her own horse, but the others could occasionally hear the words “Eren,” “home,” and, at one point, “the Corporal would help” being muttered.
"Ah man. You know it's bad when those two agree on something," Jean whispered and there were frightened nods all around.
***
If Eren had any grand visions of being the star cook in this whole fiasco than he was sorely mistaken. While it was true that he had control over the menu and would be preparing the King's personal plates, all of that was only the end game. For the entire first day it was, "Do this, boy." "What were you thinking, boy?" "Boy! Haven't you ever cooked pears before?" "Now really, boy, don't go getting upset about it…" After only a few hours spent with Millie Eren was convinced that he'd prefer "brat" over "boy" any day.
He twirled his pencil morosely.
"What's all this moping for then?"
For all her snapping though Millie had a gentle spirit and—sometimes—a gentle hand. She soothingly toyed with his hair, leaving little streaks of flour. Eren half acknowledged to himself that he needed to get it cut. No doubt Levi would chastise him for it when he got back. The fact that he was almost looking forward to it had Eren sighing.
"I guess I'm just feeling a little... homesick," he admitted. Millie seated herself on the stool beside him.
"Can't right blame you, boy," she said. "You're a decent cook, far more than decent if you make me swear to it. There's sense in it after all. The King might have you here mostly for the talk you'll stir up, but he sure as the heavens wouldn't entrust his feast to someone without at least a touch of skill. That being said, you might be able to cook, but you're not a cook. You hear me?" Millie took out one of her many rags and flapped it sharply at him. "I'm a cook, boy. Laurena over there? She's a cook. Been stoking the oven fires for nearly six decades and I'd wager both legs she'll be tending them for six more. You though? This ain't your life."
"I'm a soldier," Eren mumbled.
"Aye. A monster too from what I hear." Millie shushed him when he began to tense. "Did I say I take stock in everything I hear? Don't be a fool, boy. I've heard you called angel and devil and the military's puppet, but heaven help me if you're not just a boy." She resumed playing with his hair and this time Eren relaxed into it. "A little boy who's being asked to do far too much far too fast if you ask me. No doubt you'd prefer that this "honor" be said and done so that you can go back to your friends, am I right?"
"Yeah," Eren said thickly. He felt like he had syrup coating his throat. Millie eyed him knowingly.
"Pretty girl waiting for you back home?" She asked casually.
"N-no…"
"Pretty boy then," she said with a smile. "Well ain’t that just sweet. So what are you doing sitting there, eh? Sooner this gets done the sooner you head home. Now, would that be our menu, oh esteemed chef, or are you penning poetry for that love of yours?"
That drew a dry chuckle from Eren. The idea of writing poetry for Levi was ridiculous. Might be fun to try someday though, just to see his reaction.
"Menu," Eren said and handed her the sheet, only to realize a second later how stupid that was. Millie eyed the paper dully.
"Risa!" she called before Eren could start apologizing. A woman with curls frizzed to twice their size ran over. "What do we think of our boy's ingredients?"
Risa gave him a little wave before taking the paper in both hands. Eren's tiny script easily covered both sides. He'd written down ingredients as he thought of them, not in the order they would be cooked or served, so Risa's eyes danced crazily.
"Cheese, grapes…" she read. "Good, good. Flour, yeast, a little sugar…" Risa looked up. "These are rather simple ingredients for bread…"
Eren straightened. "It's my mother's recipe. I know it may not seem much to the King, but everyone in the Corps praises it and—"
"Now, now, boy. No need to go defending your work. Not here." Millie nodded solemnly at him. She looked just a smidgen more impressed. "The King and his men can pour honey over it if they're looking for something fancy."
"Honey?" Eren asked.
Risa bounced on the balls of her toes, suddenly vibrant. "Oh, it's wonderful, Eren. So sticky and sweet. I heard that these tiny little animals make it, but there's not many of them left. It's very, very rare."
"And when exactly did you try honey, Risa?" Millie asked.
"I snuck a taste last season. You cannot make me regret it."
"What a naughty thing you are," but Millie laughed.
Eren could feel his eyes widening the more they shared. "It is as rare as coffee?"
"Much rarer, boy. Coffee will be served to everyone at this year's feast. Play your cards right and you might even be able to sneak a taste of your own." Risa winked behind Millie's back. "But come now. Am I to waste away here? What else have we to work with?"
"Butter, eggs, milk…" Risa continued, nodding. "We'll need plenty of those. Let's see. Peaches, apples, blueberries, raspberries…" Her eyebrows rose high. "This is quite a bit of fruit, Eren."
"Yes, well… I was thinking... fruit pies?" He looked to each of them for approval. "I’ve never actually made one. Well, not really. I took apple slices and stuffed them between shavings of leftover crust when I was six." Millie snorted. "But they've always sounded so amazing and it is a summer festival…"
Millie raised her hand decisively. "The King can afford it, boy. I also have it on good authority that he's terribly fond of pies. All sorts. You'll be sure to impress him with that."
"I need to impress him. He's promised to personally fund the next expedition beyond the walls," Eren muttered.
"And so you shall." Millie patted his hand. "Not that I like the idea of you going out there one bit." Her eyes suddenly had a sheen that Eren had to look away from. They were interrupted by Risa's startled laugh.
"Deer!" she cried. "Eren, we won't be serving the King deer." Risa snatched up the pencil to scratch that ingredient out.
"Why not?" Deer had always been a prized meat among the Corps.
"He'll be eating cow," Millie said dryly.
"Cow!"
"Indeed, indeed. I believe that a few are still raised every year and they're always slaughtered for occasions such as this." She shook her head at Eren's slack jawed expression. "Close your mouth, boy, you'll catch flies. You have to remember who it is you're serving."
"I don't know how to cook cow…"
"That's why we're here, ain’t it? Risa?"
She was running through the list much more quickly now, one finger tracing her progress. "I don't know everything that you intend to make with these Eren, but it mostly seems—ah." Her finger stopped about four lines from the bottom and Eren stilled. "Lye?" She asked. "That's… not edible." She pulled a remarkably horrified face.
"It's not—that's not why—" With a frustrated noise Eren leaned forward. Sharing glances, the two older women edged closer to create a tight, private circle. Eren tucked his hands pleadingly under his chin. "I know, I know," he said. "It's not okay to steal from the King but I really don't know how else I can get ahold of it. I can't afford it, not even if I saved up for years and years and this has been the only thing I've come up with, the only thing he'll really like—"
"Boy." Millie interrupted. "What in the name of the three walls are you blathering about?" Eren took a deep breath.
"It's… for that boy." Eren cringed at calling Corporal Levi a "boy," but he wasn't going to get into how his crush was a man twice his age, and his superior to boot. "I've been trying to get him a gift for a while now. Something to… thank him. And to show him that I do care, even if he doesn't." That kept Eren awake some nights. Of what he'd do if, after all these months, Levi threw his gift back in his face. Not like his 'rejection' of the vine. If it was crueler and more… final. Eren shook his head. "I need lye," he said. "So I thought that maybe I could just… slip it onto the ingredient list?" He finished with a sheepish, slightly terrified shrug.
Risa shook her head at him. At first Eren thought he was being told a resound 'no' but she only said, "Why would this boy of yours want to receive lye? It's not a very romantic gift."
"No. You don't—I only need the lye for—"
Millie silenced him with another wave of her rag. Her other hand covered a smile. Eren and Risa turned to find that she was actually laughing. "Don't mind me," she said. "I'm just pondering the fact that I've been living amongst a band of thieves." Risa scowled. "Eren?" He jerked at her use of his name. "Risa's right. I don't know how a boy with a passion for lye won your affection—"
"Noooo—"
"—but who am I to judge? Would you believe I'm a romantic?"
"Not in a thousand lifetimes," Risa said with a giggle.
"Hush your mouth, child. Eren. You'll have your lye. Why not? I'm an old woman whose seen a lot of odd little things. I was born in a cage and I’ll die in a cage. I've spent my life feeding others, but were I ever to step outside that cage I myself would become the food. Real funny, ain’t it? And in all this ridiculousness there's an equally ridiculous boy who rumor says can grow meters high, he's cooking for the King, and he's got a boy of his own back home whose got a fetish unlike any other." Eren blushed a brilliant red but didn't bother opening his mouth this time. "Lye? Not strange at all. Least not in comparison. And like I said, boy, the King can afford it."
“Thank you, ma’am.” Eren muttered.
“Don’t go thanking me, boy. Cook!”
***
It was with some trepidation that the messenger boy approached Corporal Levi's office. After all, he'd only just ridden into the Survey Corp's castle and already he'd heard three people—shouting, crying, and whispering respectively—discussing the Corporal. When he'd asked a group of older soldiers where he could find him they'd all adopted varying looks of pity. A man with a rather square face shook his head wildly, only succeeding in biting his tongue, and while two others efficiently tipped his head back (did this happen a lot?) a kind woman lead him upstairs. She'd pointed out the door… but when he'd turned to thank her she was already gone.
This little boy—twelve years old, with the same freckles as his father—considered himself rather smart. After all, he'd taught himself how to read and write, entered the training corps, and within a month had convinced his superiors that he could best serve humanity by acting as a scribe. He'd been working under Commander Erwin for the last seven months and he didn't regret a moment of it.
Until now.
The door was closed and the boy knew, like a rabbit knows to avoid the fox, that it would be a fool's act to open it. Nothing good would come of it, he was sure. The instinct sang through his blood, so strong that he began shivering despite the heat of the day and the cloak still donning his shoulders.
So the boy did the smart thing. He slipped the message beneath the Corporal’s door and then fled.
***
Levi was in a right foul mood when a bit of paper was shoved beneath his door, though really, he'd been in a right foul mood for days. There had been shifts in his routine that were just too damn large for one small brat to have caused… so Levi just ignored them. So what if he'd been a little harsh on the greenhorns lately? They needed a good kick in the rear. So what if there was a new layer of grime on the third floor windows? No one else cleaned as well as he did anyway. There was no cause to ponder Hanji's bored expressions, or how all the food tasted disgustingly bland, or that f*cking terrifying moment when Ackerman had tried to hug him (at least that's what Levi thought she was going for. It could just as easily have been an assassination attempt). He deliberately chose not to think about how he'd gone down to the basem*nt every single f*cking night, only to turn around once the meaning behind taught, pressed sheets and a table gathering dust sank in. They were reminders Levi didn't need… and he certainly didn't need reminding of just how much this was eating at him.
"You're a hopeless f*ck," he growled and got up to check his mail.
The letter was from Erwin, though it lacked the official seal signaling Corps business. Instead, Levi found a short note written in the Commander's favorite blue ink:
Levi,
I know you've vowed never to attend the Midsummer Feast—"You won't find me eating out of their ass-crack troughs," was it?—but I thought maybe you'd reconsider, just this once. I’ve reserved you a seat.
Erwin
P.S. Eren says hi.
"He said no f*cking thing, you ass." Levi muttered. Except he probably had. Maybe. Stupid brat.
Levi made to tear up the note… but stopped. The rip might run through Eren’s name and, foolish as it was, Levi didn’t want that. Defeated he closed his eyes and instead folded the note carefully, tucking it into his desk.
He called for Eld to saddle his horse.
Chapter 7: Portions and Kings
Chapter Text
The day of the feast dawned bright and hot, the perfect conditions for a midsummer party. Everyone outside the interior went about business as usual—with perhaps a few extra, bitter remarks about those who would not share their wealth—but inside it was another matter entirely. The courtyards of the palace were crowded with people from dawn till dusk: wealthy venders and merchants, their pretty young daughters dressed coyly in silk, sons with gilded swords and fat uncles carrying goblets of vine, top tier MPs (for once) donning pressed uniforms, Garrison commanders with roses on their belts, Survey Corps members walking taller than all the rest. It was a time for relaxation and conversation; forget for a moment what was outside the walls and instead focus on what was within—namely, the contents of your belly and your purse.
Only one person was removed from the merriment. Humanity's Strongest had gained quite a bit of notice when he'd first strolled through the gates. After all, in all his years of service he'd never once attended the feast. Still, after a few monosyllabic replies the rest had given up, choosing to focus on those who would actually offer them an amusing quip or conjure up sickly sweet smiles. Levi spent the day tailing Erwin. As one man charmed his way through an entire population the other deliberately stood in his shadow. Levi watched the sun's passage with nails digging firmly into his palms.
When the bells finally tolled he stretched, like a man waking from a particularly loathsome dream.
"Come on," Erwin said. "Everyone's heading inside. It's time for dinner."
***
Eren carefully sliced bits of cheese, spearing them delicately against grapes and arranging it all along gorgeously painted plates.
He'd been here three days and slowly the ache of being away from his comrades had been filled—somewhat—with excitement. Once the ingredients had arrived he'd stood astounded. Eren knew that he'd likely never be able to cook with such rarities again, so he put his homesickness aside and tried to enjoy himself. Millie and Risa had helped. As had Sarah, Nayat, Sage, Tessa… they'd all been incredibly kind to him, especially as he was really just a boy who'd invaded their sanctuary. A different kind of greenhorn now. Eren knew this, he was grateful, so he blushed when they teased him and ignored the thoughts about how he'd rather be being teased by another.
Eren had conquered his homesickness—mostly—but he hadn't counted on a resurgence of nerves. He finished that plate and braced both hands against the table, taking deep, shaky breaths.
"You going to faint on me, boy?" Millie asked, suddenly appearing beside him. She had a tendency to do that. "C'mon. Haven't you fought them titans before?"
"I'm about to serve this to the King," Eren moaned.
"No, that plate's going to them more common folks."
"You're not helping."
Millie chuckled, working to release his death grip on the table. "God check on your boy's project. That'll calm you down. Go on, go on. Might be surprised by what you find there."
So Eren went, over to the little corner table that he'd claimed for his own use two days ago. Risa had brought him lye, lavender, beautiful molds, everything Eren would have spent months, maybe even years, trying to get ahold of on his own. He really owed her. The result though was well worth it.
Eren picked up a piece of Levi's gift, worried over dirtying it, realized how utterly ridiculous that was, and set it back down anyway. It was then that he spotted the folded tissue paper tucked beneath the pot he'd been using.
"You need something to wrap em' in, don't you?" Millie asked. "Now don't go looking at me like that. It's a gift for a gift. Besides, I got a cousin who makes the stuff. Good deal."
"Thank you, Millie." Eren said. He fingered the beautiful, light wrapping. Levi would probably scowl at it.
All at once Millie turned him by the shoulders, her face grave. "You just promise me one thing in return, boy. Yes?”
“Okay.”
“You come back. Understand?"
Eren shook his head. "Millie, I want to, really, but I don't think I'll be allowed back in the interior. Not for a while at least—"
"No, boy. Just come back." Eren rocked in surprise when Millie drew a sleeve forcefully across her eyes. "Heaven help me for allowing you prepare a meal that's letting you fools go back out there. Terrible of me, eh? So just you come back, boy, otherwise I'll never forgive myself."
"…Yes, ma'am." Eren said softly. His hands began to clench but he forced them to relax, not wanting to ruin the paper.
"Good." Millie gave the side of his face a brief pat. "Now wrap up your gift for that boy of yours. We're serving in an hour and my guess is you'll be heading back right after."
Swallowing harshly Eren rose up to press a quick kiss to her check. Then, both a little shaky, they rejoined the fray.
***
Their feast was complete.
Eren stared at the amount of food they'd prepared, enough to cover every one of the kitchen's tables when pushed end to end. Unlike meals back home there were no true courses during the Midsummer Feast and it had taken Eren a good while to understand that. (He thought back to Levi's complaints—seven or eight courses, Eren!—and realized that he must have never attended the feast before. The thought of having produced what was probably the best food Corporal Levi had eaten, in the castle's dingy kitchen no less, was… humbling. Satisfying too.)
Instead of courses it was customary for everything to be served at once, appetizers through dessert, with the King being given an individual plate. Well—"plate." It was really a platter the width of the table upon which Eren had placed a miniature versions of every dish, made by him personally. The King would have first taste of it all, comment, and only then would everyone else be fed.
Eren eyed the King's servings critically.
Spears of grapes and varieties of cheese, thick slices of his mother's bread topped with honey (given only to the King. Eren had managed to sneak a taste and… yeah. He saw why.) A fresh salad drizzled with Eren's own dressing (a slightly different version of course. Commander Pixis didn't have multiple bottles of vine that old just lying around.) Slices of chicken grilled to perfection, the beef—ground and paired with pig meat (sausage, Nayat had called it sausage), all of it mixed with a lighter cheese and topped on crisped crackers, dotted with seeds. There was a small glass of coffee to help wash all of it down and an even smaller thimble of cream to be added. There was ice cream—a dessert like shaved ice but infinitely tastier (Eren wondered what that would taste like topped with the honey…)—and the finale: a slice of Eren's first ever fruit pie. It was twice as large as any other dish and it oozed juice at its contenders temptingly.
"Looks good, boy." Millie smiled. "Real good. Look at you, holding your own."
"Yeah."
"Best get it out while it's still hot."
"Yeah."
"And breathe for me, won't you?"
"… Yeah. Right." Eren gulped a few times on command and then hoisted the enormous platter up onto his shoulder. Months of training made lifting the weight easy as, well, pie.
"Ring the bell!" Millie called and said bell immediately sounded, far softer than the one that had called everyone inside. Eren heard the rise in conversation from the dining hall—a muffled, hungry roar. His guests were ready to eat.
Millie placed a shriveled hand against his back.
"Ready, boy?"
"Ready."
***
They marched out single file with Eren at the front. Unlike those behind him, dressed in the dark green tunics of the royal family, Eren wore his Corps uniform. Millie had also provided him with a new, stainless apron that lent him an air of authority he wasn't really feeling.
He carried the King's platter while everyone else carried the rest—plates upon plates of dishes; a train of sought after food. Eren knew his role at this point: serve the King, suffer his comments, escape back to the kitchen, and then—then—he could go home. That was the tradition. That was the plan.
As it was, Eren very nearly tripped. He nearly ruined the entire feast… and it was all because of Levi.
Corporal Levi was sitting right there.
Their ruler headed the table of course, seated in a chair twice the size of any other. To his left was the Chief Advisor, dressed pompously in orange, while on his right there hunched a frail looking woman that Eren could only assume was the royal mother. Her eyes rested on something up in the rafters and remained there, fixed. Down the line of the huge table everyone sat by order of their importance to humanity, which meant that the Garrison, Brigade, and Corps commanders sat close to the King's throne. Eren had expected Commander Erwin but had not expected Levi too. Technically he shouldn't have even been there, though Eren supposed that the title of Humanity's Strongest was as good as any label like “Commander.”
Everyone sat tall and dignified, waiting for the King to be served. Everyone except for Levi. He slouched. Hands clasped loosely behind his head he looked as if he wanted desperately to kick his feet up onto the table, but with Erwin casting subtle glances Levi settled with propping his leg against the table's edge. Though his body was lax his eyes remained sharp and they followed Eren without pause. He looked hungry… but not for food, and Eren damn near dropped his platter all over again. Not just because of that look (he'd seen Levi hungry before after all—
hungry for explanations, justifications, hungry for blood) but rather because of the contrast he created. Everyone else there, even Commander Erwin and, Eren spotted him now, a tipsy Commander Pixis, looked like sheep. A silent and obedient flock. While his Corporal…
Levi lounged like a king.
Adrenaline rushed through Eren, followed by determination. He did a quick about face and succeeded in startling the rest of the line. Good. He didn't want to be the leader of sheep.
Millie was four servers down. Eren jogged quickly to reach her, already hearing the murmurs rising up behind him. Millie broke rank to meet him half way and her expression proved thunderous.
"What do you think you're doing, boy?" she hissed. Her eyes darted everywhere at once. The heat of confused—turning angry—stares seared into Eren's back.
"Do we have another one of these?" he asked, voice pitched low.
"What?"
"A platter. Do we have another platter?" Millie just stared, her mouth working like she was chewing something tacky.
It was Sarah who ran over, nodding crazily. "Yes. Yes up in the cabinet above the grain barrels. Just in case this one breaks, Eren, what are you doing—?" but Eren was already gone. He shoved his food at Sarah, only pausing to make sure she had a firm hold before sprinting back to the kitchen.
Sina help him. This was probably the biggest mistake of his life… but it felt right. Up in his chest there was a thrumming that pulsed more forcefully than the beating of his heart. It was the same feeling Eren had embraced when he watched the Corps returning as a child, that echo drowning out his family's fears. He'd felt it again in the instinct to first bite through his flesh. Do it. Just do it. Protests, possibilities, logic—all of it was inconsequential. He knew what was right. Levi had understood. Sometimes you had to trust your comrades… and sometimes you had to trust yourself.
Eren was back in seconds, though it felt like hours. It must have felt that way to everyone else too because Eren returned to a brewing disaster. His cooks were sweating in a broken line, plates trembling in their arms. The guests had lost their respectful silence.
"My apologies!" Eren called. His voiced filled the hall and it was stronger than he could have hoped for. He'd made his decision. Commit to it. "Apologies," he said again as everyone began to quiet down. Eren took his platter from Sarah with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Millie attempted to catch his arm as he passed but Eren pulled away, marching like a soldier. He approached the King and got his first good look. He was an incredibly thin man, delicate hands, clean-shaven, with a roll to his shoulder that announced his ease in nearly any situation. He wasn't anything like Eren had imagined and that gave him hope.
In all there were four people separating Levi from the King. Eren squeezed between Commander Erwin and Pixis, the first cast him a deceivingly bland look while the second appeared far too entertained. Eren ignored his Corporal's gaze entirely.
"I am deeply sorry, my liege." Eren said. He placed both platters side by side and began dividing the food with a knife, moving half to the clean ceramic. The whispers rose once more and Eren had to raise his voice along with them. "I never meant to delay your meal, but I really do think that quality is more important than timing. Things are worth waiting for, don't you think, sire?"
If his King was at all thrown by the introduction of small talk he didn't show it. He rested his head on one long fingered hand.
"I do," he said. His voice was soft and trustworthy. Eren's cuts grew cleaner.
"Commander Erwin has told you about my cooking, right?" Erwin twitched. "I sometimes like to have themes. Threads that pull all the dishes together."
"Indeed."
"Well today's theme is loyalty." Everyone was leaning forward now, dead silent. Eren’s own words had finally drowned out their own and he only hoped he could keep it up. He gestured to the meal. "Grapes, beef, cheese—rare foods that we give only to those in power, the ones we pledge our loyalty to. Honey, I've heard it's produced by animals that are fiercely loyal to their queen." The King's mother made a happy noise at that, still staring up at the ceiling, and Eren sent her a tiny smile. "The rest is more personal, sire: the bread my mother used to make me, a dressing I made for my friends, though only through the help of another." Commander Pixis winked sloppily. "For dessert I decided to make you a fruit pie, sire, though I've never attempted one before. I have faith that you'll appreciate my efforts, no matter the result, just as I believe you'll properly honor the dishes that weren't originally created for you." Eren hesitated only a second. "Loyalty goes both ways, sire."
Well, no one was calling for an execution yet… Eren lifted the platters, each now bearing half of the King's food. "Loyalty is complex, sire, and that really hit home for me when I walked in and saw my Corporal. I didn't know he'd be attending." Eren finally looked at Levi. His face was shuttered, but he was no longer slumped in his chair. Ramrod straight he looked as if he expected a fight. And no wonder. Everyone was staring his way.
"As a member of humanity I am loyal to you, sire." Eren said, setting down the first platter. "But as a soldier of humanity I am loyal to him." Walking over Eren placed the second platter in front of Levi. The back of his hand brushed along his Corporal's shoulder as he reached out. The muscle felt hard as bone.
"I have two kings I intend to serve tonight, sire.” He nodded to the King. “Sir.” Levi. “Please, enjoy."
Having said his say Eren stood back. What he'd just done hit him in a queasy stomach and sweating palms.
The King took up his fork and gently began tasting each dish in order. His face appeared impassive but Eren thought he detected a developing flush on his cheeks; a savoring pause. It was apparently a night for breaking traditions for, instead of trying each dish only once, the King returned to Eren's pie, scooping up a slightly larger piece than he'd taken before. He offered it lovingly to his mother and if there had been any lie in Eren's previous words—swearing at least half his loyalty to this man—it evaporated then and there.
Levi didn't hesitate as many would have. He ate as methodically as the King, taking tiny sips of water to make room for the new tastes. He raised his goblet with the same strange, overhanded grip he used on teacups, but the goblet proved heavier and everyone saw the distinctly clear droplet that spilled down the side. Levi meticulously wiped it away, as dignified as any of the nobles drinking their vine. His confidence, along with the King's ease, allowed everyone to start relaxing. A little at least.
When the King fed his mother Levi hesitated over his own bit of pie. Eyebrow raised in challenge he offered his fork to Erwin in a deliberate parody of the King's movement. The silence became appalled again… until Erwin leaned forward to bite, a smug twist to his lips.
"Ew," Levi said. He threw his fork aside, stole Erwin's, and continued eating. Everyone’s hands unclenched once more. Eren felt like one of those child's toys: a tiny ball being pulled up and down on a wild string.
Soon, the food was gone. Every gaze settled on the King. He, in turn, looked to Levi.
"Corporal," he said, voice thick with what Eren hoped was satisfaction. "I would welcome your opinion in this."
Levi cleaned his mouth and folded the napkin back into a perfect square. "Not bad," he eventually murmured.
"Indeed? You are a hard man to please then. I would have said, 'exceptional.' Now, Eren, was it?"
"Yes, sire!" Eren scurried out from the shadows. The King did not smile at him, but his look wasn't heavy either.
"I commend your skill, Eren. More than that I commend your bravery. Few would have attempted what you have done tonight, let alone succeeded."
"T-thank you, sire!"
"Pigheadedness," Levi said quietly. Not quietly enough though. "That's a good word for it," and Eren closed his eyes in mortification. The King only tilted his head.
"Perhaps. Though this boy has sworn loyalty to you, Corporal. He has greatly honored you this night. It is not my place to speak on your behalf, even as your king, though I would highly recommend gratitude." Levi stared hard at his empty plate. "I for one am… comforted by your daring, Eren. I believe we will all need a touch of 'pigheadedness' in the coming years, if we are to retake our world." Eren caught Commander Erwin nodding in agreement. It was only a blur to his right though, for Eren's eyes were still locked with the King's. "Eren Yeager." He said his name like a decree. "I have been told my many that you are a monster. Perhaps this is so, but if that is indeed the case than I would welcome more monsters in our ranks. Thank you for my meal."
Languidly he gestured for the rest of the food to be brought forward. Eren's new friends stirred as if waking from a dream and scrambled to comply. "You have pleased me, Eren, but this celebration is not just about us. There are others who must also find pleasure where they can. Let the feast begin!" he called and turned away. Pigheaded he might be, but Eren knew a dismissal when he saw one.
"A good night to you, sire."
As he turned back towards the kitchen Commander Erwin caught the strings on his apron. "Meet us out by the fountain when this is all done," he instructed.
"Yes, sir."
Out of habit Eren turned for confirmation from Levi but, to his shock, he was already gone.
***
Technically Eren's job was done but he remained as helpful as he could be in the kitchen, preparing fresh pitchers of vine for their guests (though he did ask Marie to try and keep the drink from Commander Pixis). A few times women flew back in for more food, most of whom took a moment to grin at him, wide-eyed. He saw Millie only once more. As she ran by she tugged sharply at his hair, growling, "You're a stupid boy. Damn if I haven't grown fond of you," before running off, which was pretty much like her.
Eren knew that the feast had no definitive end and so when the sound of knives on plates began to die down he decided to begin meandering towards the courtyard. Everything he'd brought with him, what amounted to a change of clothes, was pulled from its corner resting place and tossed over his shoulder. Before he left Eren wrote out two notes and placed them in front of the spice racks where they'd be sure to be found. One was a general note of gratitude while the other was addressed to Millie—a simple folded paper with the words, "I promise" inside. Risa could translate it for her, and even if she didn't Eren had a feeling that Millie would understand.
Eren's world shifted back into familiar focus when he saw Commander Erwin standing out on the pave-stones. An unacknowledged weight lifted from his shoulders when Erwin smiled at him.
"You must be exhausted," he said and suddenly Eren couldn't agree more. "I've been attending this feast for a very long time, Eren, and I've never heard the King comment so extensively on a cook before. But sweet Sina, you gave us all a fright pulling that."
Eren ducked his head, glad that the darkness hid his cheeks. "I'm really sorry, sir. I just..." but Erwin was shaking his head. He chuckled and Eren felt a large hand settling on his shoulder.
"No, no. Don't apologize. I've always appreciated the necessity of a gamble. Just recommending you for this position was a gamble all its own. You impressed him, Eren, and me. More than that you've proven to him and everyone else that you're far more than the 'titan child' they like to whisper about." The hand tightened as Eren flinched. "Relax. You swore yourself to both the King and Humanity's Strongest in front of every important figure within these walls. That’s—" Erwin's chuckles increased, sounding a little breathy. "Well. That's far more than I could have hoped for. You've done well, Eren. Really well. You need anything in the future, don't hesitate to come to me."
"Thanks, sir, but right now I think I'd just like to go home." Eren admitted.
"No doubt. Come on. The carriage will take us to the stables and—"
"Commander!" Eren and Erwin turned to find a young boy running to catch them, one hand clutching his ribs. "Sir!" he gasped, then turned to Eren. "And, ah, sir! I have a message from the King." The boy vibrated with enthusiasm.
"Yes?" Erwin straightened and a mask Eren hadn't noticed was missing fell back into place.
"The King wishes to thank you both again and hopes that you have safe journey back. He also wants to know what Sir Eren desires as a reward."
Sir Eren? Reward? No one had said anything about a reward before. A tiny voice in the back of Eren's mind was telling him that this was cause for excitement, but as it was the rest of his head felt like it was stuffed with lamb's wool. He looked up blankly at Commander Erwin.
"Yes…" his superior mused, rubbing his chin. "The King does sometimes rewards those who have done things he considers noteworthy, though I've never heard of this occurring with the Midsummer cook before. Eren, if I may make a suggestion?"
"Please, sir."
Erwin smiled down at the boy. "Please inform the King that, should there be any leftovers, Sir Eren would greatly appreciate them being sent to the Survey Corps Castle. No doubt his comrades would enjoy tasting the fruit of his labors."
"Yes, sir! Of course, sir. A safe journey to you both, sirs!" and the boy ran off. Muzzily, Eren wondered if he sounded like that when he addressed Corporal Levi.
Levi.
"Commander?" Eren forced the word out behind a yawn. He allowed himself to be guided into the carriage. "Where's the Corporal?"
"Oh, halfway back to the Castle I'd imagine. You rattled him, Eren." Laughing softly, Erwin tucked his charge against the carriage’s seat. "Now don't worry. I'd wager it was in a good way. In fact, I'd swear to it. You both have a great deal to discuss tomorrow. But c’mon, sleep for now, Eren. There you are. I'll wake you when we reach the stables."
Eren was only half aware of these instructions. The night had grown muggy and the carriage was moving now, those smooth roads rocking him pleasantly. Drowsily, he put his hand across his chest in what appeared to be a sloppy salute. Really though, he was feeling Levi's present tucked beneath his shirt. It was a solid, comforting weight. Perfect for grounding sleep.
Erwin, for his part, was known for the occasional lie. One fifteen-year-old boy was light in his arms and easy to balance on a horse. Erwin let Eren sleep peacefully through the whole ride home.
Chapter 8: Dessert and Clean Up
Chapter Text
Hi, everyone! Here's the final chapter. Seriously, thank you all SO MUCH for sticking with this. The amount of reviews and kudos I've gotten this past week have been staggering and I've literally been walking around on cloud nine, so thank you thank you thank you! I can only hope that you guys enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it. Here's to hoping you enjoy the end too. So onwards! :D
***
When Eren opened his eyes there were roughly ten heads leaning over him.
"… hi?" he said, or questioned rather. There. That seemed like a good enough way to start things off.
"Hi to you too." Armin snuck an arm around Eren's back and with Mikasa's help on his other side they succeeded in getting him upright. Blinking groggily, Eren took in the mass of people piled around his bed. Sasha and Connie were draped over one another at the foot while Jean sat between them and Mikasa, his butt sort of half-on half-off the edge like he didn't really want to commit to being there. Ymir was lounging in the corner and Krista was, as usual, using her as a personal throne. Gunther, Eld, Mike, Auruo, and Petra had made a strange sort of nest on the floor while Hanji occupied a table off to the side.
"About time you woke up!" she called and everyone nodded. Okay. So he'd been asleep for a while then, apparently, and now had a congrats-you're-finally-awake welcome party. He could accept that. How long had he been asleep anyway?
Eren scratched at the back of his head, trying to remember. "Heeey. Did I, uh, almost die again?" It was a distinct possibility. Though Eren did have to question whether, if he'd really been dying, if everyone would be munching down on pie right now.
Seriously. Befuddled he searched the room and—yes—everyone was stuffing their face with large, steaming slices of pie. Mike had a dark smear of what looked like berries on his shirt collar while Sasha was leaving crumbs in his bed.
"Don't joke about something like that," Mikasa said. She set her fork down with a 'clink' before grasping his hand. "You were only asleep for a day."
"Oh. Well that's good."
Auruo rolled his eyes. "Don't get smart, brat," he mumbled, stuffing another piece of crust into his mouth. "Though I guess maybe planning a whole Midsummer Feast would be tiring. Whatever."
Eren was just about to snap that only the Corporal got to call him 'brat' when the word 'feast' finally clicked, alongside 'Levi,' and suddenly the whole night came rushing back. Eren threw his weight forward and accidentally smacked his head against Armin's.
"Ow!"
"Sorry, sorry! Ah, the feast. Was I really asleep a whole day?"
"You betcha," Hanji said. She twirled her fork expertly. "Erwin came riding in at dawn with you slung over his horse. Walked right up here with you, bridal style I might add. Drooling all over his jacket. You were soooooo cute." Ducking his head, Eren realized for the first time that he wasn't down in the dungeon. He could now fuzzily recall Commander Erwin's congratulatory speech out in the courtyard, but the knowledge that he'd deliberately kept him above ground meant a whole lot more. Eren toyed with a loose thread in his blanket.
"Insisted on putting you to bed himself," Hanji continued. She let out a little sigh that was… disturbing. "Tucked you in, undressed you—"
"Undressed me??"
Eren scrambled up to get a look at his clothes, very nearly hitting poor Armin again. Up on his feet he found that he was dressed in a simple tunic and cotton pants, his feet bare. Frantically, Eren patted down his chest.
"C'mon, Eren." Eld laughed. "What? You think you've got anything the Commander hasn't seen before?"
"No. No, that's not—where's—?"
"Looking for this?" Relief rushed threw him has Petra held up a familiar package. Her eyes were hard though and they were directed at… Connie? "It was on your bedside table. Commander Erwin was kind enough to place it there for you, but then this afternoon someone got nosy—"
"It smelled nice!" Connie exclaimed. He waved his hands around apologetically. "I just wanted to see, Eren, honest. I didn't mean for it to rip—"
"You mean you didn't mean for it to rip that much." Jean cut it.
"Aw man. It's not like that…"
"Connie, it's fine. Really." Eren took the package from Petra, his muscles relaxing when it was back in his hands. Yes, there was a large rip down the side of the tissue paper. It was manageable though. Carefully (and well aware that everyone was watching) Eren nudged Armin aside and placed all the pieces down on his bed. He then tore the ripped bits of paper away and rewrapped the whole thing in the opposite direction, leaving just enough slack for him to gently tuck a pin between the folds, holding it all in place. Eren looked up at everyone, already resigned.
"I suppose you all saw then?" he asked.
"Yep!" Sasha said. She toasted him with a bite of pie.
"I think they're beautiful, Eren." Petra piped up, even as he blushed at the praise. "They're homemade, right? Really, it must have taken you such a long time to—"
"They're for him, aren't they."
That wasn't a question. The room went silent as Mikasa's voice died down. Still sitting on his bed she'd wrapped her arms tightly about her waist. Though, surprisingly, after a moment lifted her eyes skyward.
"I don't like it," she murmured, seemingly more to herself than anyone there. "Of course I don't. He beats you up and he insults you and he never gives you the praise you deserve. He's twice your age, not even good looking, he—"
"Mikasa," Armin interrupted. He fixed her with a look that Eren was pretty sure she'd received more than once while he was gone. It had that kind of weight to it. Armin turned to him with soft eyes and a bitten lip. "What Mikasa is trying to say is that she doesn't like it but, like we discussed, she wants you to be happy, and that's really what matters most. Right?"
"Mikasa?" Eren asked. She'd been silent a little too long.
"Don't be stupid," she finally said. She hid her face against the headboard. "I always want you to be happy, even if it's with a psychotic shorty."
"He is pretty short." Gunther chimed in. He raised a hand barely four feet high until people started giggling. "Humanity's Shortest! Hell, I'm down with it though."
"You… are?" Eren voiced sounded disbelieving even to his own ears.
"Yeah. You two are cute together!"
Hanji gave a saucy wink. "An even cuter couple than you and Erwin."
"I think it's disgusting," Connie laughed. "But maybe if can keep him, you know, happy, then maybe he'll go a little easier on the rest of us."
"Yeah. There's an idea!"
"Keep him reeeeeeal happy, Eren."
"Speaking of—"
"You need pointers—"
"—full disclosure—"
"—or, you know, I've got one or two toys—"
"—are you a—?"
"—wouldn't mind helping you out, man, seriously, anything you need—"
"This conversation needs to end," Mikasa called. A good thing too. Eren would definitely swear now that he was capable of steaming outside of his titan form.
“Anything at all,” Eld finished. He made a rather crude gesture with both hands.
“Eld. No.”
“…Jean?” Eren finally managed. He was the only one who hadn’t thrown in an opinion. Really, he hadn’t said much of anything at all.
“I told you,” Jean said, breaking off a large piece of pie. He took his time chewing and swallowing it. When he did look up there was a distinct smirk marring his lips. “The Corporal dotes on you, bastard. Now I can spend the rest of our lives saying, ‘I told you so.’”
“You’re a f*cking ass, horse-face.”
“Am I an ass or a horse, Yeager? Need to review your barn animals before you do the down and dirty?”
“I will show you down and dirty—”
The ensuring ‘fight’ really wasn’t much of anything at all, though Eren did manage to smash a piece of pie against Jean’s ear. Sasha cried out as if mortally wounded and set about trying to lick his face, which Jean wasn’t exactly keen on. Laughing, Eren held up his fruit smeared hand.
“This is mine isn’t it? Where did you all even get this?”
“Erwin.” Hanji said. “Well, technically the caravan that arrived three hours after Erwin. He said something about you getting a reward? Oh! And he had a message: ‘The King made sure there were leftovers.’ What’s that all about?” She dug her nose back against the plate, clearly more interested in eating than in hearing what it was actually ‘all about.’ “All I know is that a crap-load of pie showed up on our doorstep and Erwin said we could eat it so, yeah duh, we’re eating it. He was pretty stoked by the way. I mean, normally I’d be questioning you about how the feast went but considering that Commander Handsome was walking on air…”
Petra nodded. “I’ve never seen him so pleased, Eren. Not even after his tactic for avoiding titans outside the walls was approved. What did you do?”
“Other than make really fantastic pie.” Ymir said. She quietly savored a berry on the tip of her tongue.
“Well…” Eren didn’t really want to get into all that had happened that night. No doubt word would spread from the interior eventually, but for now he was content to keep his foolishness to himself. After all, they might all be supportive of… something with him and the Corporal (even ‘something’ brought a tingle to Eren’s fingers and toes) but that didn’t mean they needed to hear about his ridiculously public declaration. Not yet anyway. Besides, it wasn’t as if Levi had said anything in return. He’d run. Eren didn’t know what to make of that. Was he mad or…? Erwin had said he was rattled. A good rattled.
They needed to talk.
“I just cooked well, that’s all.” As easily as he could Eren slipped into the shoes beside his bed and snatched up his package. He made his way towards the door. “Listen, I’m glad you guys are enjoying the pie, but if it’s alright by you I’m going to step out.”
Everyone had indeed gone back to enjoying the dessert, talking quietly amongst themselves. It was Armin and Mikasa who looked up. Knowingly.
“We’ll be here waiting,” Armin promised. He gave a tiny, supportive salute while Mikasa lifted her hand.
“Fix your hair,” she said.
“Right. Uh, thanks.”
“Go, Eren.”
So Eren pulled the door shut and began heading towards Levi’s office, all the while trying to flatten what was no doubt an atrocious bedhead.
***
Corporal Levi wasn't in his office. Or his bedroom (though Eren knocked so tentatively he wasn’t sure he’d have been heard anyway). He wasn't up in the high towers of the castle cleaning between the stones and he wasn't out in the stables tending to his horse. Finally, legs weary from waking up not too long ago, Eren found him out beside the well—the one he'd tried to transform in and failed. Levi was dressed simply in civilian clothes, his hair an absolute mess from the wind. Eren gave up trying to fix his own mop and jogged over.
It was only when they were shoulder to shoulder that Eren realized he could see movement coming from the castle. Straight before them was a high window where shadows moved across the glass. If Eren strained his eyes a bit he could just make out Connie sneaking behind Krista, a bit of pie balanced on his finger and that finger heading towards her ear.
"Were you watching me?" Eren asked.
Levi shrugged. "Were you always this much of a self-absorbed sh*t?"
Eren didn't bother trying to hide the laugh that escaped. He inched just a little closer, feeling daring. He had slept the day away and now twilight was beginning to fall, his friends' outlines getting harder and harder to see. The entire time he'd spent looking for his Corporal Eren had fretted—was he mad about the feast? Would Levi accept his gift? Would they move towards something that was…well, just something? But now, seeing Levi standing at attention, his gaze directed towards where Eren had been, there was a thick kind of comfort settling in his stomach. The longer they stood in silence the closer Eren edged until their feet lined up and the soft cotton of his pants brushed Levi's boots.
However, silence was only comforting for so long.
"Aren't we going to talk about it?" Eren eventually huffed.
"Talk about what, brat?"
"The feast!"
Levi eyes slide his way. They looked small and sharp in the darkness, but Eren knew better.
"If Erwin didn't yell at you for that dip-sh*t stunt then there's no reason for me to."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
The shadows kept growing and Eren wanted some light for his gift to be seen by so, with a resigned air, he tugged it from behind his back and shoved it at Levi. It wasn't the grand presentation he'd been envisioning, but Levi took it all the same. Eren rocked on his toes as gently—astoundingly gently—Levi peeled back the tissue paper. The smell hit them both before the paper was entirely gone.
"The f*ck did you get me, brat? potpourri—?" Then Levi's mouth snapped tight as three bars of soap tumbled out. All a light, pinkish purple, the bars each had an imprint molded into the top: one of the Survey Corp’s insignia, the Garrison, and the Training Corps. Eren had thought it best to forgo the Military Police’s crest entirely. Indeed, Levi’s hand immediately strayed to the Survey Corps bar, scooping and lifting it to his nose. The subtle scent of lavender was carried by the wind.
“I know the scented bars are harder to come by; more expensive.” Eren babbled. “They never give them out to soldiers, but then you know that. I thought I could just make you some myself. I’ll make you more too, if you like these—”
“Eren.” Levi squeezed the bar in his hand, hard enough for his fingers to leave imprints. “The f*ck did I tell you about being too useful?”
“I know. But, Corporal—no. Levi.” The name slipped somewhat awkwardly off Eren’s tongue, at least in its owner’s presence. Something hot was coiling in Eren’s chest that he had to push through in order to keep speaking. “Levi. You know I enjoy helping you and I can be useful to you in… other ways. If you want me to.” Levi’s had head snapped to stare at Eren’s profile, at his darkening cheeks. “But only if you want me to. I mean, I meant everything I said at the feast.” Eren felt his voice dying, diminishing into a whisper. “I… care for you…”
“And what makes you think,” Levi suddenly growled, “that I’m interested in a snot-nosed child who’s got the self preservation instincts of a goddamn lemming?” He closed the distance between them unnaturally fast, causing Eren to jump back in alarm. “A stupid, f*cked-up brat who thinks it’s just a brilliant idea to run off during expeditions because his co-dependent friends are hungry? Or who yaps on and on about being f*cking useful and then works himself to sh*t until he can hardly stand? Or—or f*ck. Who goes off and announces to every co*ck-sucking pig that he equates me with the King?” Levi suddenly wrapped one hand in Eren’s shirt. The grip looked painful, but Eren could only feel a soft pressure as Levi’s fingers leaned against his breastbone. They spasmed in an odd sort of caress—and Levi was still talking. “You’re housing some kind of psychological f*ckery that makes you want to feed everything in sight like some sort of diseased mama bird and Sina help me, I don’t need it. You hear me? I don’t need a slave and I sure as hell don’t need your delusional hero-worship. You’re not some mindless devotee. I’m a lot of f*cking things to you, Eren, but a king isn’t one of them.”
“Yes, sir.” Eren replied.
“Oh f*ck you. Here.” Levi’s other hand came up. For a split second Eren thought he was going to get a smack, but it was only one of his bars of soap. Levi shoved it under his chin.
“Go wash your hands.” He said. “Face too.”
“Sir?”
“Now!”
Eren went. He didn’t have to go far. After his failed experiment, and with the knowledge that they’d be using the castle for some time to come, they’d decided to re-dig the well. It was a work in process, but there was a substantial bit of water down there now, more than enough for a bucketful. Eren pulled one up and braced himself against the cold. Half mourning the death of his soaps’ detailing, he set to scrubbing and five minutes later he felt confident enough to come back, pink and shivering. Levi stood with his arms cross. His legs were planted stiffly, wide apart.
“You washed your face?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Head up.”
“Sir—?” But then Corporal Levi was kissing him and Eren’s surprised squeak was lost between them. Levi kissed hard and fast, with a nip that made Eren’s cold lips ache and his teeth chatter. After a moment though, everything began to warm. The hand not cradling the rest of his gift splayed across Eren’s back, forcing him closer. When he stumbled forward Levi released a puff of breath through his nose that felt inexplicably hot. A distant part of Eren noted that Levi’s lips were chapped and wondered, lovingly, if he could make him balm as well as soap. Or perhaps simply sooth them on his own. Somehow. Before he’d entirely committed to acting on that though Levi had flicked his tongue out, like he was leaving a signature, and pulled away.
There were shadows hiding his face but that cravat was tellingly askew.
“Hands?” Levi asked softly.
Just as breathless, Eren held them up. Levi took them between his own, tracing the knuckles, inspecting each nail. It felt less like a test and more of a memorization.
“Adequate,” he said and threaded their fingers together. With a leading tug Eren definitely needed they started meandering back towards the castle, hand in hand.
“Still want to be useful, brat?”
“Yes, sir.” Eren said, then corrected himself when that smaller hand squeezed his. “Yes, Levi.” He could feel a huge, goofy grin beginning to split his face.
“Good. You’re not sleeping in that cold-ass dungeon tonight. My quarters, understand?” Levi looked back at Eren, pursing his lips. “But first you’re cooking dinner.”
***
Three weeks later Levi, his squad, Eren, and the rest of the 104th returned from their latest expedition outside the walls—all of them.
Eren celebrated with a miniature feast. He gave out a great deal of food that night and, in return, received a moment or two with his Corporal. After all, a good chef could always use a taste tester, or simply a warm pair of eyes to watch him work.
That night he slept in a bed with feather filling instead of straw, in a room that was exceedingly warmer than the dungeons. He penned a letter with another’s weight pressed against his side and a smaller hand plunged into his hair. Eren wrote slowly, savoring the moment like he would any good dish.
Risa,
Read this to Millie, won’t you? Just let her know that I’m back. I came back, and my ‘boy’ did too.
Love always,
Eren.
***
Fin.
