shortcutter | [3] drei | the fertile fortress

Entry tags:

[3] drei | the fertile fortress

The journey wasn't a lengthy one. It was a bit longer than the estimated fifteen kilometers, but for a Survey Corps horse, such distance was akin to a sprint. There had been no cause to stop, and although they'd taken a few minor detours to avoid being harried by wandering titans, they still made good time; however, with the thick silence that held between Levi and Mikasa for the duration, it could have felt shorter. The weather also did them no favors. The sky was pale and overcast while the wind blew hard, threatening a storm.

Their path skirted them well wide of the forest, leaving less chance for a surprise attack. Levi was prepared to encounter a mass of titans as they drew nearer, and had warned Mikasa of the possibility, but the final leg of their trek proved to be uneventful. The lack of titans was almost unsettling, and as the fortress rose into view, Levi motioned for Mikasa to slow. He reigned his own horse to a trot and allowed her to catch up so that the two of them were riding side by side.

The fortress was a broad, hulking structure that sat on the crest of a hill with a shallow and steady incline. Its thick gate, visible from their position, was up and appeared to be fully intact. The crescent cut of a stream ran some twenty meters away from the north and west facing walls, appearing not unlike half a moat. The stream crawled further south only to disappear into the forest.

Still no sign of any titans. So far, this was seeming all too easy. When Levi spoke, he raised his voice to be heard over the light howl of the wind and the rattling of his cape.

"I'm going to give you my extra horse," he said. "Tie them near the gate, then scale the walls from the outside. Find the highest point up there and be my lookout. I'll circle the place and check for any breaches."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The weak light from outside barely penetrated the blackness. Levi lit a torch and held it aloft, then took a step further inside. The wavering light built, revealing the greater portion of an entry hall. It appeared spacious, but was hardly grand. Several stone pillars stood with unattractive girth, raising twelve meters or so to support the ceiling, which curved upwards to form a half-dome. Straight ahead was a wide stairway that narrowed slightly as it rose, leading to a corridor set under a blandly designed archway.

There were passages on either side, as well. The carpet leading up the central stairs, now the color of dried blood, was dusty and caked with filth. The entire chamber had a musty, fetid smell, as if a titan lurked unseen in each shadowy corner. If indeed one did, the scuffling and invasive torchlight could very well stir them to life. Still, he did not have Mike's nose, and he heard nothing to indicate their presence.

Levi chose to explore the left passage; from what he understood of the the architecture, the right-leading corridor would eventually grant them access to the bastion tower, where he knew at least a single one-armed titan dwelt. Levi said nothing to Mikasa as he moved. His 'keep watch' order still quite obviously stood.

His decision proved to be the wrong one in only a matter of seconds. After just a few strides, Levi saw the pale, gangling form of a stooped and grinning five meter class titan fully blocking the passageway. He retreated slowly and drew a sword with his free, dominant hand. There was no way he could get at its neck until he lured it into a more open space.

The warning to Mikasa came out sharply. "There's one."

This proved to be a second and more damning assumption. As Levi backed toward one of the thick pillars, a second titan of similar height stood behind it, obscured from either his view or Mikasa's. It blindsided him utterly, striking with the flat of its palm and slamming his back against the pillar, pinning him there. The torch spun from his grip and clattered to the ground, and though he still held his blade, Levi's arms were restricted uselessly to his sides as the titan's fingers curled around him.

Edited (and and and) 2013-11-15 05:23 (UTC)

Mikasa lit her torch from Levi's and trailed him by a few meters. The tall ceiling seemed all by itself to promise danger after her experience in the gatehouse; and, like the roof of an immense mouth, it left her with the uncomfortable sensation of being swallowed into the bastion as they turned the corner and she could no longer see the light from the courtyard. His order was forgotten, but also superfluous. Stiff-shouldered, with a white-knuckled grip on her torch, she scoured the darkness obsessively.

Levi spotted the titan first. At his warning she was already reaching for her sword -- but then by the dim flickering torchlight she watched a huge hand smash him against the pillar and wrap him. His dark head vanishing into the shadow of the fist... She saw it with a rising sensation of dread, so each hair ticked up on the back of her neck, and a strangling, soothing certainty: no. It would not be permitted.

The other titan, the one Levi first spotted, still lumbered towards her as she dashed halfway around the pillar in a narrow arc and the torch in her hand flickered low in her rush. She dropped the wire into the titan's shoulder - of the arm that gripped Levi - from the other side. It howled in pain. As she flew up it tried to reach for her and slammed its arm around the pillar to no purpose. She clambered desperately onto its shoulder and fired another line into its neck, and stabbed the butt end of the torch deep into its ear canal. The titan groaned and bucked uselessly; persistently stupid, it could neither conceive of how to step back from the pillar far enough to use its arm freely, nor how to shake its head to loosen the torch. Both hands freed, now, she drew her other blade.

A dark focus flattened her perception. She stabbed a sword into the meaty crest of the titan's arm and slashed downward and towards the chest to sever the muscles that allowed it to lift its arm. At once the limb fell and dangled loose as a hung carcass. Like the gouging of eyes, like the slashing of jaws, she'd learned this from Levi.

Launching herself back up, she searched for anything, anywhere, from which to propel herself for a slash at the thing's neck, but there was only darkness. Fine, by strength alone then. By hacking, like she'd done in the hallway, while the titan lurched and screamed and reached for her with its still-functioning hand. She saw that hand drop away as she tore out the last critical ribbons of flesh. She never saw the one reaching for her from behind.

Pure darkness engulfed him, and with what felt like humiliating pain, Levi resisted the constriction with all the strength that his powerful, compact body could muster. He held out long enough; once the muscles in its arm were thoroughly lacerated, he had the opportunity to rip himself from the titan's hold.

His dropped torch had snuffed out, and Mikasa's — with the jerking unsteadiness of its position — made the light inside the expansive hall unreliably wild. Levi needed a second or two to orient himself, then he loosed a second blade and spun counterclockwise around the pillar in time to see the titan with its lopsided smile extending an oversized hand towards her.

Cables flew, each one zipping high and sticking to seperate pillars behind his target. The moment seemed to slow, but Levi moved as swiftly as he ever had, delivering a flurry of whirling strikes, chopping tendins in its knees, then sheering both upper arms before crossing his blades at its face, jamming the length of them into both eyes. The titan shrieked at a startlingly high pitch, and Levi finished his manuever by kicking out at its forehead, sending it toppling back.

Levi retracted his wires and landed in a crouch. If Mikasa wanted it, the finishing blow was hers.

A gentle touch fell at his shoulder. She stooped for a moment and looked him over, and her eyes were very wide, very dark. Then she examined his work. In her other hand she held the torch, still mercifully lit, though the bottom of it was smeared with some odious waxy substance. She passed it to him. Her pale features hardened.

Standing, she pulled out both swords and strode towards the collapsed enemy.

Afterwards she dropped the blades out of their hilts and grabbed the next - her last - pair. She moved slowly now, methodically, as if assuring herself that everything still worked the way that she remembered.

The overnight location would have to be walled in stone on all sides while permitting exit and escape. No doors too wide. No signs of crushed furniture, disturbed hangings, muck on the floors, or other signs of titan encroachment.

On the second floor of the bastion they found what must have once been a nobleman's bedchamber, with several sizeable windows and a view to the east, a clear drop of 25 meters to the ground, and a reinforced door. The huge four-poster bed slept only lichens and molds now. A handful of chairs with decaying upholstery; dressers; chests; a painting unrecognizable beneath its coating of dust; a pair of benches -- these last were bare wood and as such were still usable. Torn, mildewed books scattered the floor.

There was also a wide fireplace with a mantel of carved marble. When they went down for supplies, Mikasa collected the axe, too. Upon returning to the room she ditched her bundle and immediately started to hack apart the chairs.

Levi assisted quietly with the chores. He fashioned a clothesline from their extra wire, and strung it above the fireplace so the garments wouldn't block the heat or get in the way. He shed his damp cloak and jacket, hung them, then knelt by the fallen books. He found a thick one — a tome detailing noble genealogy — and tore out several pages without pause. They served as kindling, and using the newly splintered wood, he built a fire.

Next, Levi stood to observe the bed. No blankets or quilt, and the linens smelled harshly of mold and rot; they were unusable, in his opinion, and handling them only briefly made him queasy. Levi ripped the bedding from the frame and sent it fluttering out the window. Underneath, the feather mattress appeared to be salvageable. He dragged over a bench and attended to it with rough, wet cloth and — for scraping — the back of a knife.

Though they could sleep on the floor just as easily, there was time to kill, and the methodical work made for a relaxing and occupying task. With removal of the bedding, the odor of the room had marginally improved, and the fire began to radiate a cozy, spreading warmth.

Edited (another tiny thing) 2013-11-16 11:42 (UTC)

When she saw him go for the mattress, she leaned back on her heels a bit, nodded to herself, and dragged the other bench over to her corner to split. Once she was satisfied with the pile of firewood, she wiped off the head of the axe and put it away, and stripped off her cape and jacket as Levi had. Her long, sodden scarf joined them on the clothesline.

Next she pulled out an iron pot, a pair of tin cups, a waterskin, and packets of tea, jerky, and hardtack. Filling the pot, she set it near the fire to boil. She lingered there a moment to soak up the heat. It was restful, listening to the crackle of the wood and feeling a little of the wet chill get driven away; it was civilized. Something that promised to keep danger at bay. Outside, the inclement weather waxed severe. The rain pelted at the windows, but it was too dark to see much further than that. A thought occurred to her; she looked over to where Levi sat, absorbed in his work. She went back to the packs and pulled some other things out.

The stuff was laid on a clean bit of the hearth. She took her wet boots off and tucked them close to the fire, then her stockings, and draped them over the high knee of each boot. A metallic click as she unfastened her belt and the chest crosspiece of her harness, then the knee buckles. She stripped out of the harness and carefully laid it on the floor before pulling her shirt off over her head.

Beneath, she wore a wide white breastband with a halter strap. Beneath her trousers, which also came off: white shorts, like a boy's, except shorter and made of a thin, silky-looking fabric. The shirt and trousers joined the other clothes on the clothesline. The whole business was undertaken in a simple, practical fashion, without reference to modesty. Finally she crouched and unfolded a change of clothes from her fireside pile and dressed herself.

But there remained still some left of the bundle she'd brought over. Mikasa gathered it up in her arms and tread gingerly, mindful of the dirty floor and her bare feet, over to Levi. At this moment, and no earlier, she at last evinced embarrassment. A funny sort of lost look came over her. She opened her mouth to speak but coordinating the words didn't happen immediately.

"...I...brought you a change of clothes. If you give me your wet things, I'll hang them up."

She laid the bundle on the bench next to him. At least she had been thorough: trousers, shirt, undershirt, socks, underwear, even a fresh cravat. The pot began to steam in the hearth.

The cleaning didn't require an intimate focus, so in spite of himself, Levi kept casual surveillance of Mikasa as she went about her tasks. (Subtle as well — it's not as if he was leering.) His excuses for watching her at this point were running thin. She was attractive; what shame was there in admitting so? Though her fighting made for an impressive spectacle, there was something equally appealing in how she handled her domestic duties with a distinctive, practical earnestness.

She didn't need to ask questions. In this way, and others, they were working much better together than he'd expected.

When she undressed, Levi kept his eyes on the mattress. Even when he could sense her standing next to him, he didn't look up until she spoke. He took his time scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smudge, then rose after he set the knife and cloth aside. The words 'I'll do it' were on his tongue, but for some reason, they stuck there. She'd offered, and it felt strangely ungracious to decline.

"All right."

Levi undid his buckles and slid out of his harness with fingers as mechanical and deft as a concert pianist's. After shedding his boots, he handed each of the remaining items to Mikasa: first his socks, then the cravat, shirt and trousers. He stopped at his underwear, which was of a similar material to hers, only black. The fit was tight over the hard thew of his thighs.

He redressed fully after she turned — more for her benefit than his. Afterwards, he returned to the mattress. His hunger had grown rapidly since they'd settled; he needed only a few more minutes to finish his work, then he could wash up and prepare to eat.

In the ordinary rhythm of chores, whether back at base or in bivouac, she was among friends, and that was the anchor of her actions. This pace and warmth, this simplicity, this satisfaction of completing fundamentally useful things, was rooted homelike feelings: in Carla's gentle instruction as she peeled potatoes for the table, in Eren's chatter as they carried kindling back to the house, in her father seated on a stump, cleaning feathers from a duck while asking her about her day.

It had seemed natural at the time to take the clothes over to him. There was a fire in the hearth; there would be dinner soon; Levi seemed pleasantly busy. Something had changed so that when she looked at him now she saw less of an overpowered, nasty martinet and more of a -- more of someone who cleaned a mattress and had her back. No, it was more than just that, wasn't it.

Too tired and unaccustomed to pursue the thought to its end, she was left instead with the growing awareness that she did not approach friends or family when she approached Levi. When she came to his side, she remembered that he wasn't like Eren; despite his size, he was no boy. That was when the embarrassment set in.

She took his garments one by one. Looking was unavoidable in the process, but there was nothing said of it, no issue made of it. She returned to the fireside.

As she wrung out his socks and hung them, and his trousers, and shirt, and the cravat next to her own scarf, the image of him stuck in her mind. Not like Eren. Powerful-looking, corded from head to toe like one of the statues in the museum, efficient; and there, upon the hard, pale plane of his chest, a bruise as big as her open hand. It wasn't from the titan in the hall. It had to be a few days old.

She took a stained linen bag from the tea packet, shook some leaves into it, and drew a cup of hot water to brew tea.

Edited (the rane in spane falls manely on the plane) 2013-11-17 06:10 (UTC)

Naturally, there were some marks and stains that would not come out no matter how he used the tools at his limited disposal. In cases like these, his practicality was stronger than his compulsion. The mattress was clean enough now that he could deign to use it; given its make, it would be much better for his sore body than a night on the hard floor. Whether Mikasa thought the same was up to her, though it was difficult to imagine she would be more bothered.

Using the rainwater, Levi thoroughly washed his hands and forearms, scrubbing until they were tingling and pristine. He strode over and crouched at his small, personal pack, then began to paw through it. Earlier, he thought he felt a suspicious lump that hadn't been there when he'd organized his things the night before. His inkling was confirmed: it was a round thing, wrapped in a handkerchief, and there was a gleam of red as he uncovered it.

An apple. Levi wasn't sure who could have sneaked it in, but he suspected it was either Erwin or Hange. But, more strongly, the sight of it made him think of Petra. Similar generosity had been her trademark, and if he'd chose to confront her later, she would have laughed and denied doing it, lying poorly while responding with something like: Captain, don't you know how many big fans you have among the troops? It made his chest feel hollow — but as always, the emptiness refilled shortly with stout resiliency.

Levi turned and held the apple above his shoulder so Mikasa could see it.

"Our dinner just got sweeter," he said. "We must have a big fan."

No matter that it had been among his personal things. It was something to share. Whoever put it there in the first place would certainly understand.

She had dipped a pair of clean handkerchiefs into the water left in the pot and washed up while the tea steeped. A moment of brief, profound pleasure to press the cloth over her face and feel heat seeping into her chilly nose and tired eyes; then she wiped down her neck, hands, and arms, pausing in the middle to decant the teabag into the other cup.

When Levi spoke he interrupted a train of thoughts about what Eren was doing this night, whether he was comfortable (probably) and being treated well at the summit, whether Armin was watching out for him. She looked over Levi's way with reserve -- though, seeing what he held, she wondered who the fan was and how they knew she liked apples.

She brought his tea over to him and in the process plucked the apple from his grasp. Curling both hands around it, she rolled her wrists; the apple snapped in half with a crack and a burst of delicious scent. Unceremoniously she held out one half to him. Its white, fragrant interior shimmered in the firelight.

Since her hands looked freshly spotless, Levi had no logical issue with the abrupt splitting — nor much of an emotional one. Fruit was simply food, and it all served the same basic function: it was consumed, used for necessary nutrients, then the rest was shat out. Yes, it was a juicy, scrumptious gift, but it would ultimately end up in the same place as the grainy, tasteless hardtack.

Levi kept his empty hand raised. He glanced at the half she held out to him, then up toward her eyes. There was nothing to it — her look. No indication that she expected him to do anything other than take the half she offered, ignoring how she'd snatched the apple right from his grasp without a word.

He extended his hand slightly further, keeping his fingers open and his gaze level. Nothing in his expression hinted at any irritation or impatience.

"I'll take the other half."

Mikasa blinked and glanced down at the two halves. Was one bigger than the other? They looked more or less the same. His face was obscure in the shadows, sharp, lit only on one side by the fire. In any event, there was nothing she could tell from it.

Out of an inability to imagine any reason why not, she handed him the other half as he'd requested. Doing so produced an unaccountable tightness in her scalp and an expression of mild consternation.

Apples brown fast. She cupped her hands around her half and bit into it. The skin was tight and bitter, the flesh crisp and sweet. A dark look was directed at Levi from beneath her black lashes; her neck felt bare, and she turned on one heel and returned to the fireside to open the other packets.

Levi watched her turn, then bit hard into his half. He took his time chewing, enjoying the texture almost as much as the taste. After a second bite, he sampled the tea. It was the tired, standard-issue brew — how many hundreds of cups had he swilled? — but the initial sip did its job, working quickly to dispel any of the chill that still hung to his insides.

Before long, Levi joined Mikasa by the fire. Using his foot, he nudged the bedside bench across the room so that it rested next to hers, then he sat and crossed his feet. His knees and shins absorbed most of the heat, so he adjusted the angle of the bench a bit and settled casually with his body open to hers.

He supposed she could use some debriefing, and now was as good a time as any.

"The titans inside were pretty damn frisky, even in the dark," he said. "And the ones outside attacked as soon as they all started moving. So what do you think? Doesn't seem like a coincidence."

Already, they knew the Ape Titan was capable of directing a legion of its fellows at seemingly any hour, so that was where the evidence pointed. It didn't mean much that its hairy ass hadn't showed; they still knew very little when it came to the power behind controlling titans.

This casual guy.... She thought, but said nothing.

Not because he deserved it, nor because it was what was done for a superior officer, but simply out of habit, Mikasa broke a piece of hardtack into fingers, and set a few strips of jerky (it was better not to ask what the jerky was of. Meat was rare enough these days,) next to them on a clean napkin, and set the whole business on the bench at Levi's side. She arranged herself at the far end of the bench with a similar portion in her lap and her teacup at her hip, neither particularly looking at Levi, nor particularly avoiding him in favor of the fire and the long red scarf dangling above it.

"It's the Ape Titan," she replied bluntly. Her voice was soft and resonant with fatigue. Methodically she tore a shred from her jerky, balanced it on top of a finger of hardtack, and nibbled.

The weariness in her voice was discernible, but that was fine. Levi had no intention of needlessly dragging this chat on — or likely any conversation in the future. Still, he attended to his food with no urgency to speak of, loading a napkin full of the jerky and hardtack, approximating his share. He chewed on the jerky separately, and softened the hardtack in his tea before eating it piece by piece.

His question had been bait for a quick, easy answer, but it lead directly to a follow-up that centered around what she should believe to be the crux of their mission.

"It seems like that thing has a particular interest in his fortress," he said, after swallowing. "It can get titans in. That's something we should assume. So what happens, even if we take tomorrow to clean out every titan in the walls? Will it ever be a safe place for Eren to hide?"

She stared into the fire following Levi's pronouncement, looking blank, not even fiddling with her dinner now. Her lips parted; her gaze focused at something in the flames. After a breath she turned to Levi.

"...We'll have to kill it."

The statement was peculiarly hesitant, like Levi might judge her answer correct or incorrect.

The thought represented a change in her previous strategy, which involved Eren secure within the walls, herself at the gate, and Levi and everyone else in the environs and woods, keeping the titans at bay. (Erwin did not appear in this strategy.) But if it was true, the thing Levi was hinting at, if the Ape Titan could bring the titans inside the fortress walls, then -- there was no strategy that did not start with the death of the Ape Titan. Quite unconsciously she assumed it would be them, her and Levi, specifically, who accomplished this task.

"We will."

Whether he was simply agreeing or making an optimistic prediction, Levi would not clarify. He didn't trust himself to accurately guess how Erwin would react to the information they returned with. Seeing the bigger picture and responding however necessary was the commander's lot; he might prepare a full on offensive to take the Ape Titan down, or he could abandon the idea of occupying the fortress altogether. Levi wouldn't openly question either decision.

So, for the moment, it wasn't his concern — though there was one last pressing bit of business.

"Staying to kill all the titans inside might end up being risky and pointless," he said. "We could leave first thing in the morning instead."

Earlier, he'd meant what he said: We'll deal with them. If Mikasa was paying any attention, she ought to know where he stood. Still, there was some logic behind the opposite choice, even if it ultimately went against both of Erwin's goals. In the end, though, what she answered was less important than how.

"Leave..." She started, thinking aloud, then turned her attention back to the fire.

We could leave. Back, close to Eren again. The ape -- a team, pulled together, a strategy, Hange would have one. Erwin would have one. No, what if they didn't see it. The importance. It rated low on her scale to kill titans for the sake of killing titans. That didn't matter. The risk wasn't worth it. But... where would the search start. We came here because of the attacks. Not one, but many.

Her gaze became suddenly sharp; she glared at Levi, nearly accusatory, and spoke harshly. "No, Levi, we can't leave. We haven't searched the castle. What if it comes here for a reason?"

What if there's something here, something it wants or something it's attached to. If Levi doesn't notice... if he doesn't care --

"We have to stay." Abruptly she set aside her dinner and stood up to collect her harness from the floor. "...I'll go search now."

The change was remarkable. Her tiredness washed away; she stood straight, battle-ready in an instant, and gambling only against how long Levi could be made to stay on site. Though what the difference was between going alone at night while he slept, or going alone in the morning after he had left, she couldn't say; only that there was one.

Her damn willfulness — somehow, it was still catching him off guard. She had the right answer but the wrong extreme. Given her sudden zeal, it seemed certain she understood the importance of staying to search, but it would be stupid for her to go alone. Too dangerous. Too easy for her to be blindsided, grabbed and killed, as he had nearly been.

"Step one is cutting her off from everything she knows and putting her life in someone else's hands."

It took Erwin's steady words in his head for Levi to recognize the opportunity. Not like before, when they'd saved each other in the heat of battle. That was a natural instinct — certainly for him, and for what he knew of her. She'd saved people; he'd gone over a particular report from the battle for Trost, when she'd rescued a group of civilians that were bottlenecked at a point of escape.

But what did that nuance matter? Levi could let her go, then wrench her from the jaws death at the last available moment as a kind of harshly-designed lesson, but would the result be worth the gamble? In the brief moment he had, before she went strutting out the door, he decided to err on the side of caution.

"Sit down," he said, "and finish eating. I told you we'd deal with them, but there's no reason to do it now. Those ugly shits will still be there in the morning. If you've got that much energy, then you can take first watch."

Edited (you sold me on "kindly" bro) 2013-11-22 07:44 (UTC)

The buckle clicked shut at her thigh. she paused for a moment, and glanced at him, her bare foot still propped up on the bench.

"...Ah..."

Resolutely she turned her attention back to her straps. The other leg was next, then she stretched out and tested for binds.

"Then... I'll take first watch."

It seemed silly now, rushing like that. Levi probably knew before he started asking questions. Awkward. She had seen him after missions when his silence was palpable and he stared off into the distance as if still looking for the ones who had been left behind. Why had she assumed he would so easily leave her behind now?

She finished strapping herself in, mechanically, lost in thought.

Levi didn't mind; better for her to show excessive initiative than none at all. He couldn't fault her for misinterpreting his intentions, either, since he hadn't been straightforward. If there was an aspect of training he could struggle with, it was the teaching — showing, rather than telling, often felt arduous when he preferred to be blunt and to the point. He'd gotten better, over the years, but many of the finer aspects still eluded him.

It may have been only early evening, yet, but Levi had long since learned to get his sleep as time and situation allowed. He decided against a second cup of tea and ate what remained on his napkin. Afterwards, he tidied up the area around the fireplace and prepared for bed. He rinsed his mouth with water and a solution from his effects, then spat out the window. From one of the bundles he took a rolled blanket and unfurled it across the mattress, then stripped to his undershirt and shorts.

Before turning in, he approached their collection of firewood and divided it into piles, each representing roughly two hours worth. There looked to be enough to last the night, and it was as good a way as any to keep track of the time.

"Take as long a shift as you want," he said.

And that was all. Returning to the bed, he lay on his side, pulled the blanket over himself, and hardly shifted after closing his eyes.

At first, uncertain of how soundly he slept, she tiptoed. From window to window, she looked out into the night -- a futile effort, as it was pitch dark and the only view revealed was of the steady drizzle against the glass. Then along the far wall, though she had to circle the big bed frame, where she listened intently. The wall with the door, the wall that ran along the hallway, was where she took the most time and walked the most quietly, even running her hand along the stone lightly to search for vibrations. In the looming nighttime quiet it was impossible to tell which clicks and cracks and rumbles were the furniture settling, the horses in the entryway, the distant movement of titans or mice in the walls.

One slow circuit of the room, then a few minutes by the fire (very, very quietly) to rest up, then another circuit. Once or twice her attention slid towards the bed and the dark head poking out from the blanket. The fire started to burn low and it proved very difficult to feed it without what seemed like a lot of noise; it didn't seem to rouse him at all, however, and after that she walked on eggshells a little less, and even dared to fix another two cups of tea.

After these little incidents had passed, the watch laid very heavily on her. She had been tired before; once her determined rush had worn off, fatigue welled up in its place. She clung grimly to alertness, willing away the little surges of sleep that tugged at her, listening always for threats. At one point she lingered at the window and stared out into the moonless damp night, and a sensation of loneliness singed her heart. Long kilometers separated her from Eren; she didn't know if he was sleeping now or not, she hadn't seen him off to bed for the first time in months.

Here there was only Levi. A weird man. Cold and then warm. Competent, she supposed. Someone, she thought, tentatively, who could probably be relied on. For some things. She admitted that he was not as inaccessible as she had thought, before. How long should she let him sleep. He'd said to take as long a shift as she wanted. Two hours was a standard watch, four hours a long watch. She did another circuit of the room.

Halfway through the second bundle of wood, she knelt by the mattress and wondered how to wake him up.

"Levi..."

Said so quietly it was nearly pointless. It felt odd to touch someone she didn't know well while he was sleeping. But.

Her hand curled around his firm shoulder and - shaking him seemed wrong. Piqued, she did so anyway, gently.

"Levi, it's your turn."

There was a fresh cup of tea waiting for him on the bench.

In his dreams, he saw shadows of the dead. He could so rarely recognize a face. A shimmering essence, then a turn of the head. A hovering something. White, filtered sunlight. Scratching leaves. Chatter like voices — pleasant sounds — which prompted another turn. No one. A stroll in the woods where he'd seen them die, but no disfigured corpses. No blood. No nicks or scars on the trees. A ghostly grip on his shoulder felt hard but reassuring.

Not a nightmare, so when he woke, it wasn't with a start. Levi felt tranquil but chilly. His eyes fluttered, and Mikasa's face appeared as a pale, floating thing until his mind began to acclimate itself from the dream. He let out a soft groan, which was all he needed to put the images of the haunted forest to bed.

As he sat up, he glanced toward the fireplace, then the wood. He shoved the blanket away and slid off the bed opposite of where she stood. After one stretch and a swivel of the neck, he spotted the tea. He looked back toward Mikasa and gave her a nod. Hard to contest that this one wasn't worth keeping around.

"Good work. I'll take a long one."

And then it was to business, getting dressed and suiting up before sitting and feeding the fire, granting her the privacy of his back.

Somehow Mikasa had assumed that Levi would wake up and be instantly hardass Levi. To see him rouse like that, hazy for a moment, tousled and disoriented -- it left an unaccountable impression of gentleness, like the scent of apples.

Hardass Levi made his appearance soon enough. Mikasa left him to his devices and rubbed her inexpressibly tired brow and shucked off her gear and boots and most of her clothes and... a pause, she lifted her fingers absentmindedly to her neck. She frowned. Tossing her shirt back on and holding it closed with one hand, she marched over to the fire, elaborately ignoring Levi, and tugged her scarf from the clothesline. Without so much as a 'good night' or 'thanks' she marched back to the bed.

Wound up in its familiar comfort, its warmth penetrating her skin, the fragrance of smoke and family wafting gently up from its folds, she felt unaccountably better. The place where Levi had slept was still warm. She nestled into it, flattened out comfortably, and closed her eyes. For a few minutes she hovered in semi-wakefulness -- too tired and full of indistinct, disturbing memories of the day's work to sleep. The sounds of Levi going about his business felt regular and distractingly soothing. she slept very soundly once it came.

That token of hers…

Though Levi had always seen her wearing it, he'd never bothered to consider its import. Now, as he sat sipping the tea she'd brewed, he had little else to occupy his thoughts. He knew her parents had been murdered when she was young, so perhaps it was a keepsake of theirs. This was assuming the scarf had special significance; maybe she just liked it. People could grow attached to their effects for idle reasons. Levi wondered which tendency more suited her character, but soon decided that there was no telling.

After a moment, he traveled the room as she had, quietly patrolling the perimeter and listening into the walls. Despite what he'd told Mikasa, Levi was eager, if not impatient, to give the fortress a thorough search. If they managed to find anything, though, what were the chances it would simply deepen the mysteries that already plagued them? Given their recent pattern of discovery, it would be frustratingly fitting.

With the uneven pops and crackle of the fire as his only timepiece, the hours crept by. Levi stayed patient and wary. He made several trips around the room, and kept the fire well fueled in between. Eventually, he prepared more tea and helped himself to a few mouthfuls of hardtack. The wood began to dwindle, and Levi roused Mikasa when there were just a few good pieces left.

He stood, but didn't approach the bed. His voice cut across the room, sharp and whip-like.

"Ackerman."

There was no fresh, steaming drink waiting for her, but the packets were out and water was beginning to boil over the fire. She could help herself.

yeah well i'll scatter your detritus, and wow that got long

joins you in tldrland

so been wanting to use this icon

heichou's most photogenic smile also uhhh timeskips a little bit?

no subject

no subject

no subject

...just tldrs forever....

please do

;_; sorry she is going to blow the inherent beauty of his gesture

inherent beauty be overrated

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

"his fortress" yeah no. how do proofread

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

then suddenly a novel

no subject

no subject

no subject