Chapter Text

PROLOGUE

It is often said that the impact left by the actions of a single individual can have an effect large enough to be seen in ripples that extend far beyond what a that person could hope to accomplish alone. Consider the flap of the wings of a butterfly, which under the right circumstances, may influence air patterns until they coalesce into a mighty storm.

So too may the actions of one man, with simple goals, have a truly profound impact on those who interact with him. Those who are blessed by his love or cursed by his hatred, those who are saved by his kindness or doomed by his wrath. Perhaps the true measure of a man is not the peaks he reaches alone, but by the heights he urges others to scale.

CHAPTER ONE

It’s always a busy day when the Reiss family have engagements. Unfortunately for Uri and his wife, being a part of the royal family means ‘engagements’ are a frequent affair. Lady Reiss rushes after Delilah, a lively six-year-old girl and the second youngest of her children, while Uri stands in the kitchen beside Canter, a blonde-haired ten-year-old boy, who stands stoic and still as Uri bounces Lane, a bubbly one-year-old. Delilah squeals, either from frustration or delight as she is caught by her mother and forced into a frilly purple dress.

“Uri, have you seen Taren?” Lady Reiss calls from the living room to her husband. Uri quickly sweeps his gaze across the kitchen and peeks down the hall towards the parlor, but no sign of his second eldest son can be seen.

“No, darling. I’m afraid he may be out in the woods again.”

“Drat that boy sometimes,” Lady Reiss curses as she walks a pacified Delilah into the kitchen. “I’ll hold the baby, please talk to the Braus’s* to see if he’s with their girl.”

“He probably is,” Uri sighs, handing the wiggly toddler to his wife before slipping a jacket on and exiting the house. It’s a brisk day for April—a late spring will do that. If it was a little colder, he might even be able to see his breath as he trudges down the dirt path, past the farm hands looking after the livestock and towards the road that leads to their closest neighbors, a poor family of hunters.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to walk the full mile down the poorly kept road to find his son. About five minutes into the walk, he spots two young heads of hair, one brown and the other auburn, laughing to each other as they walk up the path towards him. The two kids stop when they see him, and the boy blinks curiously.

“Hey, dad. Why are you out here?”

“Taren, didn’t your mother tell you not to wander off? Uncle Rod is hosting a gala tonight, and we’re all going! It’s a long trip to the interior, so we don’t want to be late.”

“Oh!” Taren frowns, and glances at the girl beside him. “Can Sasha come this time? It’s boring when there’s no other kids!”

Uri sighs and rubs his forehead.

“No, son. Sasha needs to run back to her house. And there will be other kids, your cousins will be there.”

“Historia too??” Taren asks excitedly, closing the distance between him and his father. Uri smiles just a little and pats Taren’s head.

“Hopefully, yes. Tell Sasha goodbye, and let’s go.”

“Ok,” the boys says, turning and waving enthusiastically at his playmate. “See you later, Sasha!”

“Bye, Taren,” the girl waves back as she turns to run away. “Bye Mr. Reiss!”

“Goodbye, Sasha,” Uri chuckles as he takes his son by the hand and begins walking back to the house. “She’s a sweet kid,” he adds quietly, an introspective look on his face. He often wonders about Taren and his little friend. He doesn’t at all mind their friendship—he rather thinks it good policy to treat the neighbors as equals, despite his royal status. If he didn’t, he’d live in the interior with his thumb stuck up his ass like the other nobles. Like most of the other Reiss’s.

But Uri isn’t like the other Reiss’s, which is why he lives on a ranch in the middle of the woods on the outskirts of Wall Rose instead. He takes the moment to appreciate the feel of his son’s hand in his. Taren doesn’t know it yet; no one does but himself, his wife, and his brother Rod. But soon enough, he’ll be passing down his power to the boy’s cousin, Frieda. He can only hope Taren remembers him more kindly than Uri remembers his own father.

FIVE YEARS LATER

“So I guess we’re going with Lenz, then?” Taren finally relents after an hour-long argument with his cousin. The smell of the fire in the corner heating the room fills the small, worn-out shack that the two of them have been staying in for several months now, ever since they found it abandoned and made themselves at home.

The space is dim and dusty, stray sunbeams leaking through the roof and highlighting floating particles in the air as Taren scrubs their two sets of dishes clean. Historia climbs up from her spot on the ground and nods, walking over to the makeshift sink and holding up her book.

“You haven’t came up with anything better. I’ll be Krista, and you can be Lawrence, like the knight!”

“Hell no,” Taren snorts as he grabs the worn rag nearby and dries the freshly washed dishes and sets them on the counter. “I’ll just be Taren. It’ll be hard enough to remember to call you Krista instead of Stori. But we definitely need to change our last names, so…” Historia stares up at him eagerly, and he runs a hand down his face. “…Lenz it is. Krista and Taren Lenz. That will keep Reiss out of their records, so she can’t track us down.”

“Good,” Historia says with a nod, closing her book and sitting down on a dilapidated wooden chair. “Do you have work today?”

“Yep. Last day, then we’re off to camp. It’s only a bit north of town,” Taren nods as he dries his hands before walking over to a trunk with all of his meager belongings and removing a pair of overalls and thick gloves.

“Is Joey going to be ok without you?” Historia asks as she watches him change into his work clothes, preparing for his last shift as the local blacksmith’s apprentice.

“Yeah, he’s got a new kid already coming in for the job. He’ll be fine. I told him I’m joining the cadet corps, and he said, “Good on ya boy. Dontcha’ quit until you’ve taken back ma’ damn walls!””

Historia giggles at Taren’s impression of his elderly mentor, and runs over to quickly give her older cousin a hug.

“And he’s right. We’re in this for more than just food and shelter, right?”

“Of course we are. We’re Reiss’s. These are our people, and it’s our duty to protect them,’ Taren replies as he pats her back and pushes her away. “Don’t worry about going out for firewood tonight. We have enough to last us until tomorrow, and then we’re gone. Just stay here and be good.”

Historia huffs, and punches his arm lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will. I’m not a moron.”

Taren chuckles as he pulls the door open and waves at her.

“I know, I’m just saying. See you tonight.”

“See you,” Historia says softly as he closes the door behind him. She picks her book back up and thumbs to her favorite chapter before settling into her chair to wait for her cousin to return.

“Taren and Krista Lenz, is it? And you two are from Trost?”

“Yes, sir!” Taren replies curtly to the recruitment officer as he and Historia stand under the canopy of the stand in front of the Cadet Corps training field. “We’re originally from, uh, a town in Wall Maria. Our families were killed, but we escaped. We’re cousins.”

“Great,” the officer huffs as he stamps writes their names on the charter and them stamps a pair of slips, handing one to each of them. “Didn’t need the damn history book. Those slips have your bunkhouse number on them. Don’t lose them. Head there, dump those trunks, then get over to the Quartermaster to get uniforms. Roll call is in three hours.”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir,” Taren says as he takes Historia’s hand and heads in the direction the officer had indicated. Historia glances at her slip, then at Taren’s, and frowns.

“Taren, we’re in different cabins. Yours says four and mine say eleven.”

“They probably bunk boys and girls separately, Stori-er, Krista. That’s just how it’s going to be. I’ll walk you over to yours, then you come meet in front of mine and we’ll go to the Quartermaster together.”

“Ok,” Historia sighs, letting him lead her along. She stares wide-eyed at the soldiers, both officers and cadets, milling about the training field, chatting and setting up equipment. They walk past a long row of cabins, searching for number eleven. A nearby hill has a lodge built atop it, and a small complex nearby with a few other buildings and facilities.

“Here you go,” Taren says, snapping Historia out of her thoughts. “This is your cabin. Mine is down that way, we passed it earlier. I’ll meet you in front of it, then we can go get our uniforms.”

Historia nods, taking a breath as she watches Taren run off. Steeling herself, she walks into her cabin clutching her trunk and her slip, preparing herself to meet her bunkmates for the first time.

As Taren pushes the wooden door to cabin four open, he’s greeted by guarded stares from the two boys inside.

“Hey, fellas. I’m Taren. I guess we’re bunkmates?” he says with a friendly smile as he walks in and dumps his trunk on one of the four beds in the small building.

“Guess so,” says one of the boys, a short, skinny kid with messy, dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. Taren stares at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow.

“Do I get to know your names?”

“I’m Armin, and this is Eren,” the other boy says, an even shorter kid with golden-blonde hair.

“Yeah. Hi,” Eren says, turning away with a shrug. “Don’t expect a warm welcome just because you’re nice.”

“Ignore him, he’s not always like this,” Armin apologizes with a nervous smile. Taren chuckles a little and shrugs as well.

“Eh, it doesn’t bother me. Nice to meet you guys,” Taren replies before exiting the cabin again.

After meeting Historia and getting their uniforms, Taren and Historia are told to go get a meal at the mess hall before roll call. They’re directed to the large building atop the hill, and after waiting in line for about ten minutes, they’re served a single stale roll, oatmeal, and a baked potato.

“Can’t lie, I was secretly hoping the food might be good,” Taren says with a sigh as they find a seat at a table together. Historia shrugs as she bites into the roll with a crunch.

“It’s not like it’s worse than what we’ve been eating.”

“Fair enough. Still though,” Taren sighs as he digs into his food. “I miss homecooked meals.”

Historia pauses, a light flush rising in her cheeks as she stares at her food.

“Y-you could go back. They don’t care about you.”

“That’s not happening, and it’s not what I meant,” Taren says almost sharply, grabbing Historia’s shoulder gently. “If you think I regret running away with you, you’re wrong. Just… just eat, Krista.”

Historia nods, her expression softening a little as she resumes eating. Taren starts eating as well, and for a couple minutes, neither of them speak. Suddenly, a familiar voice rings across the hall, causing Taren to jerk his head up suddenly.

“TAREN?!?” He can barely react before a tray slams down next to him and surprisingly strong arms pull him up into a tight hug. “Oh my GOD, how are you?”

“Hey, Sasha. You got tall,” Taren gasps as she squeezes him. She giggles and sets him back down, plunking down in the seat next to him.

“Guess so. Who’re you with?”

“This is Krista, my cousin,” Taren says, nodding at Historia, who waves shyly. He drops his voice to a whisper and adds, “And, uh, it’s Lenz, by the way. We’re keeping the Reiss thing a secret.”

Sasha smiles a little, understanding slowly dawning on her.

“Sure, gotcha. I’m guessing this has something to do with the fact that you fricking disappeared two years ago?”

“Yeah, it does. So hush up, dummy,” Taren hisses, earning another laugh from Sasha.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. I won’t spill, promise.”

An hour later, the three of them are standing shoulder to shoulder in line with all their other new compatriots. A grizzled veteran walks the line up and down, glaring them all down before coming to a stop in the field in front of the assembly.

“Attention, maggots! I am Commandant Shadis, and for the next three years of your life, I am God. You eat when I say eat, sleep when I say sleep, fight when I say fight, and train all the rest of the time! You, moptop! What’s your name?”

He starts near the front of the assembly, marching up and barking at Armin, Taren’s bunkmate he’d briefly met, before moving down to the next cadet in line. Taren stands stiffly at attention as the Commandant approaches them, picking cadets to berate and intimidate. Taren hears a quiet munching sound and glances over, his eyes widening as he spots Sasha crunching happily on a pilfered potato from the mess hall.

“Sasha! What are you doing?” he hisses under his breath, locking his gaze forward again.

“Nothin’, why?” Sasha mumbles nonchalantly around a mouthful of potato. But before Taren can reply, Shadis’ gaze falls on Sasha, and he marches over, visibly reddening.

“Hey, you there. What do you think you’re doing?”

Sasha glances around as if to determine who the Commandant is talking to, then shrugs and takes another bite of her potato. Shadis looks beyond enraged at that, and leans down to yell in her face.

“You are officially on my shitlist!! Just who the hell are you?!?”

Sasha quickly swallows and plants her fist over her heart in a salute, realizing she is being addressed.

“Sasha Braus, at your service, reporting for duty, sir!”

“Sasha Braus, huh?” the Commandant says, lowering his voice to a reasonable volume, though his tone is still dangerous. “And what is that in your left hand?”

“A potato from the mess hall, sir! It was sitting on a table begging to be eaten.”

Shadis straightens up, staring down at her with a carefully controlled expression.

“The theft I understand. But here? Why eat it here, of all places?”

Sasha looks extremely confused at that, and her voice settles into a less formal cadence.

“It… looked quite delicious, and it was getting cold. Sir.”

“Why?” Shadis voice is nearly a whisper now, as if speaking to himself. “I simply can’t comprehend. Why would you eat that potato?”

Sasha’s confused frown deepens, and she clears her throat.

“Are… you asking me why people eat potatoes, sir?”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The entire assembly of cadets stares at her, speechless, and it takes everything Taren has not to face palm. The awkward silence lingers as Shadis stares at Sasha, and she slowly, awkwardly, breaks the potato in half and offers it to the Commandant.

“H-here, sir, have half.”

“Have… half?” Shadis whispers, almost looking in awe. He stares at Sasha in bewilderment as she smiles sheepishly at him. His fist slowly tightens around the potato until it’s crushed, and Sasha’s smile quickly fades. Shadis' face morphs into anger, and he towers over her, his voice an angry howl. “RUN! Run like your life depends on it, and don’t you stop running until the sun sets! GO!”

Sasha whimpers, and quickly crams the rest of the potato into her mouth as she takes off at a sprint, running around the edge of the training field. Shadis takes a breath and continues down the line as if nothing happened.

After getting properly introduced to the Commandant, the cadets are instructed to run three laps around the entire edge of the training field. Taren and Historia run side by side, keeping a cool, even pace. Eventually, they catch up to Sasha, and slow down to her speed.

“That was pretty dumb, Sash,” Taren says, elbowing her. She groans weakly but keeps her eyes ahead.

“Yeah, thanks, Tare. I really hadn’t figure that out.”

“Someday you’ll figure out how sarcasm works, and you’ll be unstoppable,” Taren laughs. “Look, I’ll carry you one back on my lap. Keeping up with Krista is light work, I’m not feeling this at all.”

Sasha’s eyes gleam eagerly, and she nods.

“Y-yes, please! Thanks Tare, I owe you.”

“Yeah you do,” Taren mumbles as he slides Sasha onto his back. He grunts a little under her weight, which is more than he had anticipated but not more than he can handle. “Sheesh, Sash, you been eating bricks?”

Sasha blushes and rests her face on his back.

“Shut up. I don’t even weigh that much, I don’t think.”

As Taren and Sasha fall back in the group of jogging cadets, Historia continues at her pace, and is caught up to by a tall, freckled brunette.

“Hey. You know potato girl?”

Krista glances up at her sharply and shrugs.

“A little. Taren knows her better.”

The girl chuckles.

“I can see that. I’m Ymir, by the way.”

“K-Krista,” Historia pants, struggling for breath slightly as running and talking starts to take its toll. Ymir’s smile broadens, and a curious, almost fascinated look twinkles in her eye.

“Pleasure. See you around, Krista,” she replies with a nod before speeding up and leaving Historia behind.

After finishing training for the day with a few other exercises (after the laps,) the cadets are all sent to the mess hall for dinner. Taren and Historia are near the front of the line, and easily get a seat; but the mess hall fills quickly, and soon enough, few spots remain.

“Mind if we sit here?” a calm voice asks from behind Taren. He turns around to see Armin, Eren, and a solemn-looking girl with jet black hair standing with food trays in hand.

“Sure thing. There’s plenty of room,” Taren replies with a nod, scooting closer to Historia to make room for the three of them. “Who’s your friend?”

“Mikasa,” the girl replies with a nod, pulling the red scarf around her neck down a little so she can eat.

“Nice to meet you, Mikasa,” Taren nods back at her before resuming eating as well. Eren and Armin talk quietly with each other, but Taren eats in silence, his gaze wandering around the room at his comrades as he chews. After a few minutes, his gaze lands on a girl on the far side of the room. She has blond hair tied back in a messy bun, and as he watches her, her piercing blue eyes meet his for a moment, and he quickly looks away. Historia notices the movement, and turns to Taren quizzically.

“What?”

“Do you know that girl with the blonde hair?” Taren asks, subtly nodding towards her. Historia peeks over the heads of the other diners, looking for the girl he’s describing.

“Is she sitting between two tall guys?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“No, I didn’t catch her name,” Historia says as she sits back down and shakes her head. “Why?”

“No reason, just curious,” Taren replies with a shrug. As he finishes eating, he notices Historia filling her pockets with a bottle of water and some extra food, and he tilts his head. “What are those for?”

“Sasha,” Historia says, standing up with Taren as he gathers their empty trays. He cracks a smile and nods approvingly.

“Good. You’re a very considerate person, Krista.”

“Thanks,” she whispers, blushing slightly as she follows him to the front of the mess hall where the tray drop-off stands, and then out into the onsetting night. They walk quietly, enjoying the peaceful view of the sun setting over the mountains, and the sound of the wind in the forest nearby. Taren sucks in a deep breath and pulls Historia gently against his side.

“I think we did a good thing today. It’s nice not to be running anymore.”

“Yeah,” Historia agrees, leaning her head against him. “It is.”

They find Sasha collapsed on the edge of the field, panting on her back, and Taren just grins at her as Historia crouches down and hands her the food and water.

“Here, Sasha, we brought you these.”

“Thanks, Krista,” Sasha croaks, gratefully accepting the offerings. “You’re an angel.”

“Up you come, potato girl,” Taren says, looping his arms behind her and helping her to her feet. Sasha groans, but doesn’t stop eating even as she leans into him and starts to walk away. Historia remains sitting in the field, watching them walk away with a curious expression, until she’s startled by the sound of a voice behind her.

“You came back for potato girl,” Ymir chuckles as Historia whips her head around. She climbs to her feet and dusts off her knees with a shrug.

“I was just helping. Besides, she’s Taren’s best friend, and my bunkmate.”

Ymir laughs, and steps closer to Historia.

“What’s the point? You could have gotten in trouble. That mindless act of kindness gets you nowhere.” Historia just stares at her, frozen in surprise, until Ymir shrugs and turns to walk away. “Whatever. I suppose by helping her, she owes you one in the future.”

“Yeah… right,” Historia mumbles to herself as she watches Ymir walk away. Eventually, she snaps out of her stupor and jogs off to her own cabin for the night.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWO

As days turn into weeks and weeks into months, the cadets quickly adjust to life as soldiers. Wake up early, grab your meal from the mess hall, and get to the field for morning roll call. Many of the recruits don’t make it through those first days—they quit, and are carted back to Trost.

A clear hierarchy forms in the 104^th cadet regiment as the highest performers distinguish themselves. Mikasa is a name that everyone quickly learns to respect, as she quickly proves herself to be the fastest and most competent recruit, even if she is the strong-but-silent type. Eren, for all his noise and bluster, turns out to be rather competent as well, even if his bark is even bigger than his bite.

Taren grows close with his bunkmates quickly—an outgoing disposition and late nights talking from their bunks makes it easy to bond with Armin and Eren. Mikasa remains rather aloof, but Taren never pushes her. Some people just prefer to keep to themselves.

One afternoon, after about three months of training, Shadis instructs them to practice hand-to-hand, then leaves the field to attend “personal matters.” Most of the cadets take the opportunity to goof around or rest, but not all of them.

“Come on Sasha, give it another go!” Taren encourages his already exhausted friend as he bounces on his toes, his hands up in a fighting stance.

“What’s the poooooint?” Sasha whines, picking herself up off of the ground with a groan. “You trained with, like, monks or whatever. I can’t beat you.”

“It’s not about beating me,” Taren laughs, waving her towards him. “It’s about getting better, which I think you are. So let’s go again, I’ll show you how to do that leg sweep.”

As Sasha receives another “lesson” from Taren, Historia watches from the sidelines—until she’s approached by Ymir. Historia smiles politely at her and nods.

“Hey Ymir! What’s up?”

“Just looking for a sparring partner,” Ymir says, tossing a wooden knife to Historia, who manages to catch it. “You in?”

“Yeah, ok,” Historia nods, gripping the knife and taking a breath. “Should I just… run at you?”

“We can start like that, yeah,” Ymir chuckles, waving Historia at her. Historia nods, and rushes suddenly forward. Ymir barely has time to react—the wooden blade skims her shirt as she redirects Historia’s arm and puts her into a lock. “Holy shit, that was fast,” Ymir pants. “You’re even holding the knife right.”

“My cousin showed me how,” Historia replies, slipping free of Ymir’s grasp with a grunt and slashing low towards her stomach. Ymir sucks in her stomach, barely dodging the blow, then backs up to create distance.

“Taren? Where the hell did he learn?”

Historia shrugs as she adjusts her stance, circling Ymir slowly.

“Some guy in a village near his house. He ran away one time when he was, like, six, and that guy found him and brought him back. I don’t know the whole story, but somehow he ended up training for like, a couple years.”

“That’s… super weird, actually, what the hell?” Ymir snorts as Historia lunges in for another strike. “But… cool, I guess? I’ll have to ask him sometime.”

Historia’s blade hooks behind Ymir, and Historia pushes her down into an armlock quickly before tapping the blade against her back.

“I think I win.”

Ymir huffs, her cheeks flushing a little, and pushes away from Historia.

“Guess so. Let’s go talk to the wonderboy.”

Historia shrugs, catching her breath.

“Sure.”

They walk back to where Taren is once again trying to coax a slightly bruised and very breathless Sasha off of the ground.

“Come ooon, Sash. I’ll show you how to do that armbar! I won’t sweep you again, promise.”

“Looks like you need a new partner,” Ymir says with a grin as she and Krista reach them. Taren looks up and chuckles bashfully.

“Maybe… I do feel kinda bad. Are you offering?”

“Uh, yeah, pass. I lost to Krista already, I’ll keep practicing. But if you really want a challenge, what about Mikasa?”

The four of them glance over to where Mikasa is standing alone, carefully controlling her breathing as she practices punches and kicks on a two-foot-thick wooden stake—which is already dented.

“To quote a good friend of mine, “Uh, yeah, pass,”” Taren says with a shake of his head, earning a laugh from Historia and a small snort from Ymir.

“Fine, fine. What about…” Ymir quickly scans the field, just in time to see Eren get tossed on the ground by the solitary blonde girl she’s met a couple times. “…Annie? The blonde who just kicked Eren’s ass.”

Taren’s eyes land on her and light up. He reaches down and pulls Sasha off the ground before nodding.

“Sure, she seems about my speed, and I’ve been wanting to talk to her. Let’s go.”

Sasha rubs her butt unceremoniously as the four of them wander over to where Armin and Eren are talking to the blonde girl and a tall, muscular guy with her—Reiner, as Taren recalls from roll call. They turn to look at the approaching group, and Taren smiles and raises a hand in greeting.

“Hey, Eren, Armin. We just saw you guys fighting and I wanted to spar with you… er, Annie, right?”

Annie regards Taren with a disdainful glare, and Reiner cracks a smile.

“You sure you want what Eren just had?” Reiner asks, but Taren grins, unperturbed.

“If she can do that to me, she’ll have earned it. I think I have a little more practice than Eren.”

Eren looks peeved by that comment, but Annie steps forward, shifting into a fighting stance Taren hasn’t seen before.

“If you think you’ve got it, then show me,” she says, her voice soft but confident. Taren drops into his fighting stance, a wider position than Annie’s. The two study each other for a moment before Taren zips in, aiming for a jab. Annie moves her head back and to the side, shifting her position to dodge the punch and align her body for a powerful side kick aimed at Taren’s head.

A smirk flickers on Taren’s lips as he blocks the impact with his forearms, grunting against the sting as he wraps his hands around her leg and flings her onto her back. Annie gasps as she planted on her back, but she doesn’t stay down. A swift spin frees her leg from his grip, and her other heel clips his chin, staggering him as she rolls to her feet.

They both regard each other warily, ignoring cheers and stares from their friends and the gathering crowd of curious cadets. Annie waits as they circle each other, until the moment Taren’s feet are crossing. She runs in, elbows over her head, aiming for a headbutt. Taren sees her coming, but his bad footwork causes him to stumble just enough for Annie’s elbows to land in his gut.

He chokes on saliva as ‘oohs’ go up from the crowd, but he grits his teeth against the pain and wraps an arm around Annie, holding her as he lands a sharp jab on her side. Annie grunts, then breaks his hold, quickly aiming a kick at his leg. He sweeps a hand low and knocks her kick aside, then lands another punch on her gut. Annie growls, takes the hit, and pops a jab into his jaw.

Another brief stalemate comes after that, and they both circle again, struggling to catch their breath as their comrades cheer them on.

“Go Annie! Kick his ass!”

“Put her on her butt, Taren!”

“Don’t let her breath, get in there!”

“Hang in there Annie, you can beat him!”

“Don’t let ‘em win!”

Even a couple of the officers have taken notice at this point, and Taren can’t help but smile a little as he analyzes Annie’s stance. Annie’s face is a stark contrast, frozen in a flat, calm expression, despite the sweat dripping off her cheek. In a flash, the fight resumes. Taren lunges forward, feigning a punch at Annie’s face, which she moves to block—but he drops low instead, slugging her hard in the stomach.

Annie growls and grabs his arm, twisting until he cries out, and kicks him in the knee. The corner of Taren’s eyes are dotted with tears, but he pops her in the chin, taking the opportunity to wrench his arm free. Annie watches as his hand chambers and his body coils, preparing to throw another punch at her face; she grits her teeth. This is it, one way or another.

Time seems to slow around her as she ducks under and around his punch, redirecting his momentum with one hand while the other comes up to his chin. But before it connects, she feels a sharp crack against her own face as Taren’s knee smacks into her jaw. Stars flash across her vision, but she sends the uppercut home.

Cheers erupt, and suddenly far too many hands are touching Annie as cadets gather around, holding her up and patting her shoulders and back. She’s still blinking away stars, but she smirks a little as she sees Taren slowly, dazedly getting helped off of the ground, his jaw and left eye beginning to swell.

“Good match,” he says as Sasha helps him over to her. He extends a fist towards her, and she bumps it hesitantly.

“Yeah… uh, you too. You… fought well. Your footwork is bad.”

Taren laughs and offers her a slight bow.

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll work on that. Your kicks are a little predictable, is all I would say. Maybe wait until your opponent is more open, or aim for less obvious weak points.”

Annie blinks in surprise at his reaction, and nods, just a little.

“I take that advice into consideration.”

As dinner bell rings, and the cadets scurry off to their cabins to change out of their uniforms, Eren and Armin accompany Taren and Sash to cabin four.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from us, Taren,” Armin says with a warm smile as he and Eren catch up. Taren laughs, rubbing his neck bashfully.

“Well, not too much. I still lost.”

“More like a draw,” Armin disagrees. “I saw her blinking and stumbling, she probably would’ve been knocked down if Bertholt hadn’t caught her. And you were only on the ground for a couple seconds.”

“Yeah, yeah, he did good, we get it Armin,” Eren huffs, still scowling. Sasha laughs loudly, and points at Eren.

“HA! I get it, you’re upset because you got destroyed by Annie, but your roommate held his own. That’s funny.”

Eren’s scowl darkens and he grits his teeth.

“Tsk. Whatever. Like you would’ve done any better, potato girl. Why don’t you go to your cabin?”

Sasha giggles, and punches Eren’s arm lightly.

“I will, grumpy guts. And duh, of course I would’ve lost. But I’m not sulking about it.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but his expression softens a little as Sasha runs off to her cabin. Taren groans and flops onto his bunk as the three of them enter their cabin. Armin chuckles to himself before quickly changing into his street clothes. Eventually, Taren groans and begins changing as well, just in time to catch Eren and Armin heading to dinner.

Mikasa is waiting for them just outside of their cabin, and she glues herself to Eren’s side as the four of them walk up to the mess hall and get in line for dinner. Once they have their trays of food, they find Ymir and Historia sitting with Sasha and sit around their table.

The evening passes calmly and slowly, warm chatter filling the mess hall until the sun finishes setting and cadets begin filing off to their cabins. Taren finds himself walking alongside Ymir, Historia, and Sasha as they meander they way past the edge of the woods, taking the scenic route to their cabins. Sasha’s eyes keep going to Taren’s face, which has had a distant, thoughtful expression on it all night.

“Ok, what is going on with you? What are you thinking about?”

Taren blinks over to Sasha, and he smiles sheepishly.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”

“He’s imagining dating Annie for six years, getting married, then moving to a farm and having three kids and a dog,” Ymir quips, earning a giggle from Historia and a flush from Taren.

“Yeah, I saw the way you looked at Annie. You like her, huh?” Historia asks, elbowing him lightly.

“Hey, ow, I’m sore there,” Taren huffs, rubbing his side.

“Where, right in the ego?” Ymir chuckles, patting his shoulder. “It’s alright. All guys are the same. I see you, big man.”

Taren scoffs again and buries his hands in his pockets sulkily, earning more laughs from Sasha and Historia.

“It’s ok to have a thing for women who can kick your ass,” Ymir continues, earning further snickers. “Genuinely relatable to be honest. Annie’s got that ‘mysterious tough girl’ charm, on top of solid looks. I get it.”

“Ymir, shut the hell up,” Taren groans, reaching up to bury his face in his hands as all three girls burst into laughter. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I didn’t even say I liked her.”

“Taren… you really don’t have to say it out loud,” Historia giggles, and Taren rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. I’m going to bed, see you nerds tomorrow.”

“Bye, lover boy!” Ymir calls as he stomps off. The three girls continue walking back towards their cabins as a comfortable silence settles over them.

“Hey… you guys really think he likes her?” Sasha eventually asks, earning surprised looks from Historia and Ymir; but Ymir’s gaze quickly turns knowing.

“Ah, I see. Hey, it ain’t too late, Sash. He’s not made his move yet.”

Sasha looks aghast, and suddenly laughs way too loudly.

“HAHA! Oh, no, ewwww, no. Ah, ha, no, he’s like, my brother, I don’t like him like that. Silly Ymir. Anyways, goodnight!”

Historia looks absolutely flabbergasted as Sasha suddenly jogs off, leaving her and Ymir alone.

“What just happened?”

Ymir laughs again and bumps Historia’s arm as they continue towards the girl’s cabins.

“Hehe, don’t worry about it, Krista. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Screw you,” Historia pouts, rolling he eyes. “I’m like, a year younger than you.”

“Give me a time and a place and I’ll take you up on that,” Ymir says with a wink, leaving Historia looking confused once again as they reach the line of cabins and part ways.

“What… what is going on?” Historia groans as she creaks open the door to her cabin and slips inside.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THREE

As the seasons shift and change, the cadets of the 104^th learn and grow, improving their skills every day and slowly growing closer with their comrades. One winter evening, as Taren searches for an open seat to eat his dinner from, he notices that Annie is eating alone—her usual meal partners, Reiner and Bertholt, are sitting with Marco, Jean, Eren, and Armin.

“Mind if I sit here?” Taren asks, startling Annie out of her thoughts. She blinks up at him, then nods once before turning back to her food. Taren sits down beside her, occasionally glancing her way as he dips his slice of bread into his vegetable stew and takes a bite. “Hey, Annie, could I ask you something?”

Annie glances over at him and sighs.

“You just did. But fine, go ahead.”

Taren cracks a small smile before clearing his throat.

“Is, uh, is there a reason you’re always sitting alone? Not for meals, I mean, you just don’t seem to ever join in with group stuff unless Reiner drags you in.”

Annie bristles slightly and takes an aggressive bite of her bread.

“Yes, because I prefer not to deal with idiots all the time.”

Taren snorts, looking unconvinced.

“Right, yeah, I get that, I suppose. But there really isn’t anyone you like? I mean, even idiots aren’t so bad once you get to know them.”

Annie chews slowly before swallowing.

“Well… I suppose I don’t make an effort, that’s true enough. Why do you care? You feel bad for me?”

Taren laughs nervously, and glances away.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just thought… well, I guess what I mean is that I’d like to see you around more.”

Annie freezes temporarily and ducks her head to finish off her bread.

“Hmph.”

She’d been considering following that up with words, but she can’t think of anything to say. Taren just stares at her, his expression falling slowly. Eventually, he turns back to his food and the two finish their stew silently. As she stands up, Annie clears her throat.

“…see you tomorrow.”

Taren blinks in surprise, but nods quickly.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, you too. Uh, have a good night.”

Annie nods once before turning and dropping her tray off, then slipping out of the mess hall into the night. Taren watches her go before shaking his head and depositing his tray as well. Not sure what that means, but… interesting.

It’s late January, when the snow is thickest, that the cadets are put through the “snow trek,” a challenge in navigation and teamwork that involves a full day of trekking through the mountain pass back to camp. Team captains are assigned and given two days before the exercise to assemble a team of three other cadets to make the journey with.

Taren is in his cabin, going over the packing list with Eren and Armin when there’s a knock on the door, and it creaks open.

“Come in,” Armin calls, and to everyone’s surprise, Annie’s head pokes in.

“Taren?” she asks, and Taren climbs off of his bunk.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Annie steps into the cabin, taking a moment to breathe on her hands before handing Taren a teal card.

“You’re on my team with Reiner and Bertholt. We’re teal group.”

Armin and Eren stare at the two of them as Taren takes the card, looking almost as surprised as his bunkmates.

“Woah, uh, sounds good, yeah. Thanks.”

“Thank me by pulling your weight on Thursday,” Annie replies before slipping back out into the winter cold. Taren turns to Eren and Armin, whose faces both slowly split into smiles.

“Annie thinks Taren is cool,” Armin says, almost reverently. Eren snorts, and shoves Armin onto his bunk.

“Cool is an exaggeration. She wants him on her team, probably just because she likes him. Are you even that high on the leaderboard?” he asks suddenly, turning to Taren. Taren’s gaze snaps up from the card to Eren, and he laughs awkwardly.

“Huh? Oh, uh, fifth, I think? I dunno.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t really matter, anyways,” Eren shrugs, turning back to Armin and helping him back up to his feet. “Mikasa is silver team captain, she already said she’s picking us and Marco.”

That night, Taren has trouble sleeping. He knows he should be getting his rest—the trek is in two days. But the knowledge that he should be sleeping only makes it harder to sleep, and the question of why Annie picked him lingers in his brain. It could certainly be that she wanted someone she thought would be dependable.

Having grown up on a farm, even as a royal, Taren has experience working hard through bad weather. His father was always making sure his kids were involved in the operation and care of the ranch, even though the farmhands did most of the work. And even if Annie wasn’t thinking of that, she could’ve just been picking someone high on the leaderboards. Taren, Reiner, and Bertholt are the highest ranked who didn’t get made team captains, so that logic tracks.

But Eren’s words linger in his mind. It’s ridiculous, obviously, but… maybe Annie does like him, at least a little. Not necessarily… like that, but maybe she is warming up to him a little. That thought is the last one that goes through his mind before he finally falls asleep.

Early in the morning, long before the sun comes up on the day of the exercise, the cadets all bundle up warm and pile into horse-drawn wagons with their packs of supplies for the long hike. It’s about four hours by cart through the pass, and it’s somewhere around nine a.m. when all the groups are dropped off in forests in the forest on the other side of the mountain.

Annie takes note of each of her chosen group members and their supplies before checking the map. Each of the groups have been placed far enough apart to not have sight of each other, so it truly feels like it’s just the four of them.

“Ok. Bertholt, I want you to have the map and compass. You’re our navigator. Reiner, you’re the caboose. That means you follow in the back and make sure we keep pace. Taren, you’ll be between me and Bertholt. I want you to keep your eyes open for any potential hazards, like wolves, avalanches, and snowdrifts. Let’s get going.”

The three boys step into line as Annie instructs, and soon enough, they’re on their way. The hike is long and arduous. Bertholt eventually starts to complain that his hands are too cold to concentrate on the map, so Reiner takes his place, and Taren fills in the rear position. They don’t encounter many obstacles, except one close call with a startled deer than nearly knocks over Reiner.

They take a forty minute break sometime around three p.m. to heat and drink the cans of soup in each of their bags, which reinvigorates their energy. Around six p.m., as the sun is dipping below the horizon and the sky is going fully dark, Bertholt notices Taren shivering.

“Hey, you want some jerky? I managed to get some from the meat locker.”

Taren’s eyes widen, and he accepts the offered strip of meat gratefully.

“You’re my hero, Bertholt.”

Bertholt laughs bashfully and shrugs.

“Nah, forget about it. Hey, I can take the rear for a bit if you’re getting cold. I swear it’s warmer in the middle.”

“Sure, thanks,” Taren replies with a nod as he and Bertholt swap places in the formation. He chews happily on the strip of meat, and after a few seconds, Annie turns around to glance at him. Taren can’t help but notice that her cheeks look pink, and her nose is red and running a little.

“Is that jerky?” she whispers to him, and he nods.

“Yeah, why? You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she say frostily. “I just hate breathing into a scarf. Do you have any more? The jerky?”

Taren blinks, and turns back to Bertholt.

“Got a piece for Annie?”

“Of course, yeah,” Bertholt nods quickly, grabbing another piece from his pocket and handing it to Taren, who hands it up to Annie.

“You weren’t supposed to tell him it’s for me,” Annie grumbles as she takes the meat and pops it into her mouth. Taren chuckles sheepishly and shrugs.

“My bad, I guess.”

“Whatever,” Annie huffs, before adding softly, “…thanks.”

Taren can’t help but smile as they re-ascend off of the mountain and back into the forest on the other side of the pass. It’s about two more hours before they make it back to camp and are directed to the mess hall, where mugs of warm apple cider and dry blankets are passed out.

“Good work out there, Cadets. Congratulations on not freezing to death,” Shadis nods at them as they shiver their way into the mess hall and receive their amenities. Mikasa’s group is already there, and surprisingly, so is Ymir’s group, consisting of Sasha, Historia, and Mina.

“Hey, they made it!” Sasha cheers as Annie’s group walks over to sit near the crackling fireplace with the other three groups.

“Of course we made it! We’re the best,” Reiner laughs heartily as he plops down in front of the fire and sips his cider.

“Did you guys have any trouble?” Historia asks, and Taren shakes his head.

“Nope. Reiner navigated like a pro, and Annie ran a tight ship.”

“It was a team effort,” Annie grumbles, crouching in front of the fire and cupping her mug. A soft laugh murmurs through the thawing cadets, and Sasha slumps back in her chair.

“Well, sounds like you did better than Ymir. We totally got split up. Mina and I ended up at the bottom of the valley waaay before Ymir and Krista. We were thinking about finishing without them when they caught up. Apparently, they took a wrong turn and had to slide down a cliff on Ymir’s pack, which tore the straps off.”

Ymir forces a small smile and holds up her ruined bag, which raises eyebrows from a few of the others.

“Damn. That’s crazy,” Eren says over his mug before draining it. “Well, we got here first, so I guess we’re the best.”

Everyone else rolls their eyes, but Marco and Armin both look a little pleased to be included in the top team. Eventually, the rest of the teams filter in, and eventually, the mass hall is full of chattering, exhausted cadets. The last squad to come in has one cadet who tripped and broke his leg, resulting in their not returning until nearly ten p.m., and all of them getting slightly frostbitten. But impressively, they made it nonetheless.

After sitting around the fire and swapping stories late into the night, the exhausted cadets one by one head to bed. Just after Taren steps out into the frigid night, the door creaks behind him, and Annie falls into step beside him. He glances at her, surprised by her presence once again, but doesn’t comment.

“You did good today. Even if you didn’t notice, you kept us moving most of the day.”

Taren is even more surprised when Annie says that, and he can’t help the little, ridiculous smile that creeps up his face.

“I could say the same about you. I felt like we were all doing our best to not let you down.”

Annie ducks her head, and as they reach the front of her cabin, she stops. Taren stops beside her, and after a moment, she clears her throat.

“Well… you didn’t let me down. So… good work.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns and disappears into her cabin. Taren stands there for a moment, staring at the door, until someone bumps his shoulder from behind.

“No goodnight kiss, huh? You’ll get there, big man,” Ymir teases as she brushes past him. Taren scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Whatever. How come you never told me you and Annie are bunkmates?”

“You never asked,” Ymir laughs as she salutes him playfully and disappears into the cabin. Taren rolls his eyes and trudges off towards his cabin, feeling a little warm even in the freezing cold.

About two months later, as signs of spring start to melt through the ice of winter, after a long day of training, Taren gets to his cabin late after dinner to find the light off and Armin’s soft snoring filling the cabin. He quietly changes into pajamas and climbs into bed, sliding under the covers with a sigh.

He’s just relaxing when he feels a shape shift beside him, and something warm brushes against his arm. He stifles a yelp as he suddenly finds himself facing an irritated looking Mikasa, but his own eyebrows quickly knit into a frustrated look as well.

“MI—Mikasa, what the hell?” he hisses, to which she brings a finger to her lips.

“Get on the top bunk. I’m using this one.”

“What? This is my bunk!”

“I was hear first,” Mikasa murmurs matter-of-factly, “And I’m not sharing. Top. Bunk.”

Taren growls, but slides out of (his) bed and climbs up onto the top bunk.

“What the hell are you doing here anyways?”

“Watching,” Mikasa whispers back. “Now shut up.”

“Watching what, you weirdo?”

“Eren. No more words.”

Taren just rolls his eyes and settles into the stiff, unused sheets of the top bunk. Whatever Mikasa’s deal is, it’s not his problem.

The next morning, after roll call, the cadets are running laps, and Taren runs alongside Historia and Sasha, as usual.

“What’s got your gus, grumpy?” Sasha asks, elbowing him. Taren gives her a slightly exasperated look.

“Nobody says that, that—that’s not how the phrase works, Sash.”

“You knew what I meant, sourpuss,” Sasha teases, elbowing him again. Taren huffs in response.

“It’s nothing, Mikasa just stole my bunk last night.”

“She what?” Sasha blinks, and Historia gasps, scandalized.

“Did she… did she try anything? Sh-she could get in big trouble for that!”

Taren blushes and shakes his head vigorously.

“NO! No, she was creeping on Eren, not me. I guess she had a better view from my bunk.”

“From your what?” another, colder voice says, as Annie speeds up a little to run alongside them.

“Annie? Were you listening the entire time?” Taren asks in shock, but she just stares him down.

“Irrelevant. Mikasa spent the night in your bunk?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t, which is why,” he turns to Sasha, “I am grumpy.”

All three girls pause, considering the information.

“So… what, Mikasa is a weirdo?” Sasha asks, and the other three nod.

“Yep,” Annie affirms.

“Certainly seemed like it,” Taren shrugs.

“Yeah, um, that’s… that’s definitely a little strange,” Historia offers.

The three run is silence for a bit before Annie clears her throat.

“Well. Let me know if she tries it again, I’ll talk to her.”

Taren’s mouth drops a little, but Annie speeds up and joins the front of the lap, leaving them behind. Historia grins broadly, and bumps Taren.

“Hehe, I think I know what she meant by—”

“Yeah, we got it,” Sasha snaps at Historia, then blushes. “Er… no need to make Taren any more embarrassed than he is.”

“Thanks, Sash,” Taren sighs, earning a nod from her.

“’Course, I gotchu bestie.”

“I’m gonna find Ymir,” Historia huffs, slowing down. “I need a conversation with someone who can actually address her feelings for a change.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR

As is always the case for spring, it slowly became summer, and brought with it warm evenings and warmer feelings. One day, while walking in the woods during personal time, Taren finds a large boulder set in a clearing. He returns to the boulder often; it sits near an overlook, and from it, he can see Trost not far away, and the walls stretching out before him, and the forests and grasslands stretching beyond that.

It’s a place he can come to think, relax, or simply be alone. One night in early May, Taren returns from an after-hours chat with Historia to find that Mikasa has once again commandeered his bunk. Rather than take the top bunk, he slips out of the cabin, stealing his way along the edge of camp to avoid the watch until he makes the treeline.

He hums softly to himself as he picks his way through the forest to his little clearing, tapping out the familiar rhythm of a song his father had taught him to play on the piano long ago against his pant leg. He reaches the boulder, but freezes when he spots a figure atop it already, her blonde hair reflecting the moonlight.

“I know you’re there. You sounded like a pack of elk walking through the trees.”

Taren chuckles awkwardly, taking a step back from the boulder.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry. I can go.”

“No. You came this far,” Annie says softly, her head tilting up to stare into the clear night sky. Taren waits for a moment, then chambers up the boulder to sit beside her.

“What’s an elk?” He asks, and Annie blinks.

“…another name for a deer.”

“Oh. Cool.”

They fall silent, and the burden of conversation is picked up by the wind in the trees, the frogs waking up in their streams and ponds, the owls calling to the night, and the crickets singing to the moon.

“You aren’t like the others,” Annie murmurs eventually, causing Taren to turn to look at her.

“Neither are you.”

Annie smirks a little and folds her knees to her chest.

“True enough.”

The serenade of the night takes its turn again as the two fifteen-year-olds gaze up at the stars.

“I ran away to protect Krista. When I was eleven.”

Annie turns to Taren again, her expression unreadable, but softer than usual.

“…I ran away, too. I’m kind of still running. Sometimes I don’t know if I want to go back or not, to face what I left behind. But I still have a dad, and… I want to see him again, even if he wasn’t very good at being a dad.”

“I had a dad, once. Still have my mom, though.”

Annie’s head slowly comes to a rest on Taren’s shoulder.

“What happened to your dad?”

“Eaten by a titan,” Taren whispers, and Annie sighs.

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok. Not your fault.”

Annie winces just a little, and then her hand slowly entwines with his.

“Neither of us is being honest, but… I feel like I'm being more genuine with you than I have been for a long time.”

“You don’t have to tell the whole truth to get your feelings off of your chest.”

“I guess not.”

They both sit in silence for a while, neither of them sure what—or rather, how much—to say.

“You know that people can turn into titans?” Taren eventually asks, and Annie nods.

“Yeah. And some can turn back?”

“Yep,” Taren responds softly. “And eating a shifter passes the power?”

“Right,” Annie whispers, turning to look up at him. He glances down at her as well, feeling suddenly surprisingly nervous. Annie’s cheeks flush just a little, and before she knows what she’s doing, her hand is on his neck, his is on her cheek, and then…

Their lips connect. It’s a short, awkward, teenager first kiss.

But it’s a kiss.

They both quickly glance away, trying to still their beating hearts.

“I hope you see your dad again. And get away from whatever you’re running from,” Taren whispers.

“Th-thanks. I… I hope you and Krista turn out alright, too. And… that you get to see your family again someday,” Annie murmurs back. The rhythm of the twinkling stars in the sky far above them plays a tune to fill the void as two young minds turn over troubles far heavier than they ever should’ve had to deal with.

But fate and fortune are no respecters of persons, and it is not for them to decide what trials lay ahead or behind—only what to do with now.

And for now, they choose each other.

They return to that rock every couple nights—sometimes just one of them, sometimes together, sometimes the come one at a time, but still end up there together. Truthfully, they rarely talk too much. Words are a difficult business for people who carry the burden of another’s secret, and so they instead sit in comfortable silence.

And they find that it is not words that connect people, but emotion—the words are a useful but unnecessary ingredient in a more complex formula that draws the bonds between young people.

One night, after sitting on the rock for an hour, Taren suddenly turns to Annie.

“Can I show you something?”

Annie regards him for a moment before nodding and following him off of the rock and back through the woods to the camp. They slip past the watchtower unseen, and Taren leads her to the multipurpose building.

“Crap. It’s locked.”

“I got it,” Annie whispers, pulling a pair of pins from her hair and letting it fall down as she inserts the pin into the lock. She applies tension to the mechanism with one pin, the clicks the lock once, twice, three times with the other—and the door swings open. Taren grins and takes her hand, pulling her inside.

“That was badass.”

“Thanks,” Annie whispers in reply, following him to a shape in the corner, a dusty piano which he wipes off before sitting down at. “You play?”

“Yeah. My dad taught me,” Taren replies, testing out the keys with a light melody that’s unfamiliar to Annie. He then proceeds to play a slow, solemn tune, which Annie again can’t recall hearing before—though, it occurs to her that she really shouldn’t be surprised. What does surprise her is how good he is, his body swaying slightly as his fingers dance over the keys.

“I thought you ran away at eleven,” Annie whispers.

“I did,” Taren murmurs back,  “And my dad died when I was eight.”

“Then… how… when?”

“I was considered a savant,” Taren sighs as he continues to play deftly. “Everyone assumed I was going to be a professional pianist. I had concerts sold out when I was seven. I didn’t write the songs, so it was really recitals, but I did a couple a year from the age of like, seven to eleven.”

“But still,” Annie murmurs, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “This, your fighting skills, and whatever the hell happened to make you run away with your cousin…”

“I’m not sure where you’re going,” Taren says, pausing his playing to look  at her.

“Me neither,” Annie sighs. “I guess… I guess my childhood was pretty busy, too. I just never had time for arts.”

“That’s ok. Piano wasn’t my decision to begin with, even if I learned to enjoy it,” Taren says, standing up and wrapping her in a hug. Annie stiffens for a moment, then slowly relaxes into it.

“I suppose… I could say the same about martial arts.”

“There you go,” Taren chuckles, slowly pulling away from her. “We should get out of here before we get caught.”

“Probably,” Annie agrees. As they leave the building and she clicks the lock back into place behind them, she takes his hand and squeezes it one last time. “Someday, you’re going to tell me what you are hiding from.”

“Eventually, yeah,” Taren agrees, stepping closer to her. “And you’ll tell me what you’re running from.”

“Maybe,” Annie sighs. She gazes up into his blue eyes, which sparkle just a little as they catch the moonlight, and then pushes herself up onto her tiptoes for a kiss. He returns it lightly until she pulls away. For just a moment, their eyes lock again, and then Annie turns to leave. “Goodnight.”

“Sleep well. See you tomorrow,” Taren murmurs as he watches her jog off to her cabin.

The next morning, Eren, Armin, and Taren take their seats in the mess hall while rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Breakfast is the usual—a stale crust of bread and oatmeal. Armin and Eren’s chatter doesn’t interest Taren this morning; they’re debating something ridiculous, which is typical. He glances around the room for his other friends, and spots Historia practically cuddled up with Ymir, Sasha sitting with Connie and Jean and laughing too loudly, as usual.

“Is this seat taken?” Annie’s slightly raspy voice disturbs his thoughts as she takes the spot right next to him and sets her tray down.

“I saved it for you, actually,” Taren says with a relieved smile as he picks up his bread. Annie smirks a little and swallows a spoonful of her oatmeal.

“Good.”

Eren and Armin’s debate lulls, and Armin notices Annie eating beside Taren.

“Oh, hey Annie! You’re not sitting with Reiner and Bertholt?”

Annie glances up from her food, staring blankly at Armin.

“You have a problem with me changing my seating habits?”

Armin flushes a little and laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Haha, n-no, just curious… it’s nothing, sorry I mentioned it.”

Annie rolls her eyes and turns back to her food.

“No harm done,” she says more to herself than anyone.

Later that day, during ODM practice, Taren is zipping between trees alongside Historia. They pause on a tree to figure out which direction the course continues in, and Historia takes the opportunity to speak.

“Saw you sitting with Annie at breakfast.”

“Saw you sitting with Ymir,” Taren replies as they shoot into the thicket of trees again. Historia chuckles, her face reddening a little.

“Yeah… fair enough.”

The two of them fall silent again until the reach a titan dummy, and after landing swipes across its neck, Taren breaks the focused quiet.

“So… what’s going on between you two?”

Historia considers the question, waiting until they’re skimming side by side through a long stretch to answer.

“Not… a lot, not yet. But… she matters to me, and I know that she wants a—a special connection.”

“Well… just keep me updated,” Taren says as they land their marks on another dummy and continue through the course. “As long as you take it slow, you have my blessing.”

“Really?” Historia says softly, a pleased blush spreading on her cheeks. “I… kind of thought you’d think it was weird…”

Taren laughs and shakes his head as they make the round towards the end of the course.

“What? No, I have no problem with it. Love is love, Stori. It’s obvious that Ymir would die for you. That’s worth something, in my book.”

“…right,” Historia says quietly as the end of the course comes into view. “What about you and Annie?”

“We kissed last night,” Taren admits, earning a delighted gasp from his cousin.

“Taren, oh my god! That… that’s great! Wait… I mean, how long have you two..?”

“Hey, look, the end of the course! Good work, Krista, you’re really nailing your precision on your cuts lately,” Taren replies with a grin, a wave, and a hidden blush as they land and he runs off to report to the Commandant.

“This guy,” Historia sighs to herself as she jogs off after him.

As summer comes and goes, autumn colors burst through the woods like fireworks, replacing the cool greens with warm reds, oranges, yellows, and cozy browns. One evening, during Friday evening personal time, Annie and Taren are sitting on their boulder, gazing out across the sea of colorful trees.

“Hang on, it gets better,” Taren says as Annie represses small chortles. “And this is why I hate art critics, because when I was, like, ten, I visited a gallery with my family, and there was this empty pedestal. So me, being a total goober ten year old, took my muddy work shoe which I was wearing much to my mother’s chagrin, and put it on the pedestal.”

“And?” Annie asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“And it won a freaking award. It was called, “The Farmer’s Boot,” or something pretentious like that. Everyone was going on about how it truly captured the essence of the working class and was a symbol of solidarity for the people who hold up our society and stuff like that.”

Annie snorts, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

“That’s my problem with people like that. They pretend to care about the people who they genuinely see as lesser than them.”

Taren sighs and leans back on his hands, kicking his feet idly.

“I know. Most of my family is that way.”

Annie quirks an eyebrow at that.

“What? You’re family is like, art critics and musicians and stuff?”

“Worse,” Taren groans, rubbing his check. “They’re nobles. Not even the regular kind, I mean royalty.”

Annie blinks at him, her expression shifting through various different emotions before landing on mild surprise.

“You… you’re family is royalty. So you and Krista… is that what you’re running from?”

“Basically,” Taren sighs, sitting up straight. “Cat’s out of the bag now, huh? You want the full family tree?”

Annie’s jaw tightens, and she gazes out across the expansive forest until her eyes land on the wall, twinkling in the distance. A part of her is screaming at her that this isn’t something she should know. This moment is when she’ll finally have to decide between Reiner and Taren. The home she left, and the one she found here.

She suddenly realizes that Taren is waiting for an answer, and she sucks in a small breath. In a split second, the decision is made, and her head bobs in a nod. Even if he confirms her suspicions, she’s planted her flag. Chosen her camp. Even if he knows where to find what Reiner is looking for…

She’ll keep his secret.

“Yeah, lay it on me.”

Taren considers addressing the long pause between his question and her answer, but decides against it. He’s been thinking about how he’s going to present this information to Annie for a long, long time, and he’s ready to take the plunge.

“Well, my uncle Rod was the crown prince, but he gave the throne to his younger brother, my dad, until he died, and Rod became king.* Krista is his only living daughter, so she’s the crown princess. I have one older brother, so he would be the next in line for the throne after her, and then… me. Like, third in line.”

Annie’s eyes widen subtly, and she shakes her head.

“You’re telling me you’ve been a prince this entire time. You and Krista are the heirs to the throne… why run away? Couldn’t you be living a life of luxury, playing your piano in concert halls? Why be out here, freezing your butt off and getting called maggots by Shadis?”

“A few reasons,” Taren sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “Partially because the royal life was just… never for me. I don’t want to live off of the blood and tears of others. These are my people, my walls. I need to fight for them.”

“Ok, so self-sacrificing savior complex aside, what’s the other reason?”

Taren scoffs, and Annie chuckles a little.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you the real reason Krista and I took off,” Taren relents. “Four years ago, when the walls fell, someone attacked Krista’s family. They killed all her older siblings. The only survivors were her, my aunt, and my uncle, the king.”

“Wait… so why leave Krista alive?” Annie asks, and Taren holds up a finger.

“It wasn’t an attempt at the whole family, only the at-the-time crown princess, Frieda, my older cousin. The other siblings were just casualties. But Krista wasn’t even there, because she is a step-sibling. The king is her father, but…”

Annie can’t help the small gasp that slips from her lips, nor the excited smile that climbs up her cheeks.

“Uncle Rod cheated on the queen.”

“Bingo,” Taren sighs, looking a bit forlorn. “The Queen always hated Historia for it. And since nobles are all massive suck ups, even the other cousins refused to talk to her or play with her, in case she got mad at them. Except me. I would find her, hiding in corners or sitting alone at galas and family functions, and we would just play and talk together.”

“Historia?” Annie asks, confused for a moment. “Wait, so Krista is an alias, so her real name isn’t on the records. Lenz isn’t your last name either, then?”

“It’s Reiss, yeah,” Taren confirms. “Taren is my real name, though. I didn’t feel the need to change it.”

Annie smiles a little, feeling strangely relieved.

“Good. It suits you.”

Taren chuckles and reaches for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Thanks. Anyways… where was I? Oh, right. After all her kids died, and Historia became the crown princess, the Queen went insane. Off the rails batshit crazy. She chased Historia out of the house, had her biological mother killed, and then put out a bounty on her head.”

Annie’s smile fades into a pensive stare out at the sea of trees, and a sigh escapes her.

“I suppose grief will do that to a person.”

“I guess,” Taren shrugs. “Well, as soon as I heard about the bounty, I packed a bag and ran away from home. I tracked her down before anyone else, because I knew she would go hide out at her favorite library, in this little spot in the attic. Anyways, uh, that’s basically it. We spent two years moving from town to town, working jobs for money until she was old enough to join the Cadet corps.”

“Damn,” Annie whispers, studying Taren’s face in a new light. “That’s… a lot for a kid to carry. But… you did good. You’re more family to her than anyone who raised her.”

Taren blushes a little and shrugs, leaning back on his hands again.

“I just did the right thing for someone I care about. That’s not exactly something to be celebrated.”

“Yes. It is,” Annie murmurs, climbing onto his lap and cupping his face. Taren doesn’t even have time to react before her lips are on his, but he happily reciprocates the gesture. Annie kisses him long and slow before pulling away, gripping his collar as she braces herself against him. “Someday… someday, I’m really going to tell you where I came from.”

“I’d like that,” Taren murmurs, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her into another kiss.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE

The cadets of the 104^th grow in skill, stature, and comradery over the course of the next year, and as graduation approaches, behind the excitement is a growing discussion of what the future holds for each of the cadets. It’s a Saturday evening, the night before the ceremony, and a majority of the regiment is spending the evening in the mess hall when Armin bursts in, waving a sheet of paper around.

“Guys! Check it out, the final leaderboard ranking got published!”

“Damn, seriously?” Reiner says, striding over and peering at the sheets.

“Well? Don’t keep us waiting, what’s the order?” Jean asks, standing up from his seat as well. Armin clears his throat, and the hall falls silent, waiting in eager anticipation.

“First rank… Mikasa.” No surprise there, a chorus of “yeps” and “makes sense” skitters around the room. Arming clears his throat and continues. “Second is Reiner.”

“Hell yeah, you know it. Nobody was gonna beat Mikasa, so second is basically first,” Reiner says with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it! Keep reading,” Connie calls out, smacking a hand on the table. “I wanna know what place I got!”

“Right, right,” Armin says, glancing at the list again and taking a breath. “Third place is… Bertholt,” Armin pauses for a round of cheers and back claps for the tall, quiet brunette, “…and Annie got fourth.”

Annie scoffs to herself and takes a long drink from a glass of water.

“Lower than Bertholt? Psh.”

“Maybe if you weren’t always showing up to practice tired, you’d have beat him.”

Eren snickers, and Annie shoots him a glare. Armin clears his throat and continues.

“Fifth place goes to Taren, and sixth is Eren.”

Eren looks flabbergasted by that, and Taren laughs loudly, wrapping his arm around Annie's waist.

“Gee Eren, you scored even lower than me and Annie. That’s tough.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. The scoring is subjective anyways,” Eren huffs, though there’s a small twinkle of pride in his eyes.

“Seventh is Jean,” Armin reads out loudly, which prompts much cheering and a whoop from Jean as he jumps up on the table, then sits down a little embarrassed as the cheers quiet. “Eighth is Connie.”

“Hell yeah!! Woohoo, I made the cut for MP!” Connie cheers to much less enthusiastic peers. Armin waits for Connie to sit down before glancing at the bottom of the list.

“Ninth is Marco, and tenth is Sasha.”

“Whew! I barely made it, haha,” Sasha says to Taren and Historia as she leans back in her chair looking relieved. Historia gives her a big hug, looking proud and pleased for her.

“But you did make it! Congrats, Sasha, I’m so proud of you.”

“Out of curiosity, who are the runner-ups?” Ymir calls to Armin, who scans the paper quickly.

“Uh, you, Krista, me, Sam, and Mina.”

Ymir scoffs and shoots a skeptical look at Sasha.

“Just lost to potato girl, huh? Guess I slacked a bit. I say Krista got robbed, too. But it’s whatever, I guess.”

The mess hall fills with chatter again as different groups discuss their plans for graduation, both in career choice and after parties. The top ten-rankers and their friends form a circle, one question on their minds.

“So who’s joining the MP’s?” Reiner asks. Curious glances are shot around the circle, and Jean scoffs.

“Definitely me. It was my goal from the start, and it hasn’t changed. I just proved I deserve it.”

“I’m with Jean. It’s the interior for me!” Connie says with a chuckle. Eren glares at both of them, and crosses his arms.

“Not me. I’m joining the scouts, where they actually need strong recruits! I’m not wasting my skill like a coward. I’m going to the front line, where I can make a damn difference!”

Jean groans and waves a hand at Eren.

“We get it, ya suicidal maniac. Your number one aspiration in life is to get eaten, we know.”

“Why you—” Eren growls, stepping forward until Mikasa catches his wrist, and he sits down with a huff.

“I’m joining the scouts, too,” Mikasa says softly.

“No surprise there, you’ll go where he does,” Reiner laughs. “But honestly, I’m thinking about the scouts. I like the freedom.”

“Same,” Bertholt says with a nod. He glances over at Annie expectantly, who shrugs.

“I might. The MPs would be nice. Just… get away from the conflict.”

“I know what you mean,” Marco says, drawing the eyes of the group toward him. “But… I haven’t made up my mind yet. Whatever I choose, I want to make a difference, not just do what’s easy.”

“I agree with that,” Taren adds, lifting his glass towards Marco with a nod. “I haven’t made up my mind, but I want to make a difference wherever I go.”

“I guess that’s where I’m at, too,” Sasha says with a shrug. “I hadn’t planned on making top ten, so I kinda gotta reconsider joining the scouts.”

“I’m joining the scouts,” Historia chimes in. “Even if I had made top ten. It’s just the right thing to do. To be honest, I agree with Eren. The scouts need us. The MP’s don’t.”

An introspective silence falls on the group for a bit until Jean groans.

“Alright, enough gloom! We’re graduating! Who has party plans?”

As the conversation shifts, Annie quietly gets up to leave, and Taren quickly follows her out of the mess hall and into the warm summer night.

“Why did you say you were thinking about joining the MP’s?” Annie asks him once they near the edge of the woods. “We both know you’re joining the scouts.”

“Not if you aren’t,” Taren counters, reaching for her hand and clasping it as they push into the foliage. Annie snorts and glances over at him skeptically.

“Really. Even though Historia is joining the scouts?”

Taren sighs, and his grip on her hand tightens a little.

“Well… I… I do want to be around to look out for her, but…”

“…but not if I’m in the MP’s,” Annie finishes, earning a bashful look from him. She sighs and clenches his hand a little. “You want me to join the Scouts.”

“I won’t lie, Annie. Yeah, I want you to join the scouts. But I also want you to do what you want. My decision shouldn’t affect yours.”

“Really? But mine is allowed to affect yours? That’s rich, Taren. You really think it works like that?”

Taren flushes and ducks his head.

“N-no, I didn’t mean that! I just—”

“Listen, dumbass,” Annie interrupts, “I know I don’t say it much, but… I like you, too. That’s why I’m holding your hand right now. So I want to be where you are, too.”

Taren blinks, pausing for a moment to turn and look at her.

“Annie, I don’t want you to join the scouts and put yourself in danger just for—”

“Shut up!” Shut the fuck up,” Annie groans, swatting his chest. “I ranked higher than you, dumbass. I’m not a delicate princess that needs my big, manly prince to protect me.”

Taren blushes even further and stares at the ground in shame.

“I-I know that, I… I’m sorry, Annie. I just can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”

Annie’s expression softens, and she steps closer to him, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Three years ago, he had only been a few inches taller than her. Now, he’s head and shoulders above her—though she certainly  won’t be complaining about it.

“That’s why we’re joining the Scouts together, dummy,” she murmurs against his lips. “So we look out for each other. That’s how relationships work.”

“Ok. You’re right,” Taren hums back as she presses the kiss a little deeper and then pulls back and tugs him forward.

“I know. Now come on. I want to watch the sunset from the rock, one last time before tomorrow.”

Early morning rays of sunlight hit Taren’s eyes as he blinks awake. A warm weight is draped across his side, and it takes him a moment to register what’s happened. The ache in his back gives him a pretty solid idea, though.

“Annie…” Taren croaks, his throat unexpectedly dry. “Wake up, Annie.”

The weight against his side groans and pushes herself upright, staring at him blearily, her hair messy and sticking out of her bun.

“Did we fall asleep on the boulder?”

“Afraid so,” Taren groans as he sits up and cracks his back with a series of loud pops. Annie lets out a huff and flops onto her stomach.

“Ugh. On graduation day, too.”

Taren winces as he climbs down from the rock, but turns back to help Annie down.

“It’s probably pretty early, we can hurry back to camp before anyone realizes we were out all night.”

Annie snorts, but takes his hand as they make their way back towards the training fields.

“If we’re lucky, maybe.”

They are, as it turns out, lucky, as very little of the camp is awake when they return. They part ways to their separate cabins, and Taren enters just as Armin is rolling out of bed. He can hear water running in the bathroom, and then be notices Mikasa standing guard at the door.

“Uh… good morning, Armin. Mikasa. You, uh… keeping the bathroom safe?”

“Eren is using it right now,” Mikasa says evenly. Taren shoots Armin a questioning look, but he just shakes his head and shrugs as he kneels to lace his boots.

“You’re kinda freaky, Mikasa, you know that?” Taren asks as he gathers up his uniform. Mikasa’s eyes narrow slightly.

“Would you rather apologize, or explain why you didn’t spend the night in your cabin?”

Taren clamps his mouth shut, a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Uh… sorry. We’re good.”

“Good,” Mikasa says, stepping aside as Eren exits the bathroom, drying his hair. “The bathroom is open.”

After a quick shower, Taren meets his fellow cadets in the mess hall for breakfast. Everyone is abuzz with excitement for the upcoming ceremony, but Taren is too tired and sore to engage in the chatter.

The day passes quickly with set up for the evening, and before they know it, the ceremony is underway. The top ten in the rankings are brought to the stage and presented their honors, then the different branches are introduced to the cadets. Like they didn’t already know what their options were. After the ceremony, they’re all pronounced graduates, and told they’ll have one last day to think about which branch they would like to join before they make their final selection on the following evening.

Annie bids Taren an early goodnight, and he doesn’t protest; he’s sore and exhausted from their night on the boulder. Not to mention, he’s assigned to wall duty the next morning along with several other cadets. As Annie trudges toward her cabin, she’s stopped by Reiner, who jogs up alongside her.

“Annie! I need to talk to you for a bit.”

Annie’s eyes narrow, but she tilts her head in a slight nod. Reiner pulls her around the back of the cabin and drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Look, Annie. We’ve gotten complacent. We haven’t found any leads toward the founding titan, and it’s been years. Bertholt and I have been talking, and we’re ready to accelerate our plans. We’re going to take down Wall Rose to flush out the founder.”

Annie’s fists clench, but she keeps her face carefully controlled.

“I thought we decided against taking down anymore walls.”

“That was then. This is now,” Reiner says, gripping her shoulder firmly and jabbing her chest with his finger. “Listen, Leonhart. I’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt for a while now, but you’re really pushing it. You’ve gotten way to close to Taren. Don’t forget what he is. What all of them are; devils. So get your head out of your ass, quit fraternizing with the enemy, and start acting like a warrior.”

Annie growls lowly in her throat and smacks Reiner’s hand away before twisting out of his grip and shoving him backwards.

“No, Reiner, you listen. I’m not your pawn, and I never have been. I was never on board with the plan to take the walls down. Not then, not now. So you and Bertholt better not do anything stupid. I have a lead on the founder, and I'm taking it at my pace.”

“Careful, Leonhart,” Reiner grunts, turning away from her with a disapproving sneer. “You’re on thin ice. You’d better figure out which side you’re on, and it better be the right one, or you’re going to regret it.”

Annie glares after Reiner as he storms away, but his words linger in her mind. He’s not wrong. She needs to make this choice carefully, or she’ll regret it dearly.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX

Annie spends the night contemplating, restless and unable to sleep. Eventually, she makes up her mind. She’s going to tell Taren everything. She strongly suspects that the source of his knowledge on titans is connected to the founder—he may even know who currently holds it. Either way, of all the things she’s uncertain about, his devotion to her is not one.

He’ll at the very least be able to offer her a genuine perspective on what to do, she’s sure of it. Having never bothered to change out of her uniform, she doesn’t draw any attention as she runs over to cabin four and bangs on the door; but there’s no answer. Frustrated, she barges in, only to startle Mikasa, who climbs out of Eren’s bunk.

“Annie? What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Taren?” Annie demands breathlessly, earning a slight glare from Mikasa.

“On the wall already, with Eren and a few others. Why?”

“Shit,” Annie curses, turning to leave. I need to talk to him. There’s something he needs to—”

Crack-BOOM.

An earth-shaking sound splits the air, followed by a shockwave that ruffles Annie’s hair. Her eyes widen as she tenses, staring towards the wall of Trost in the near distance. A plume of steam rises in a tall column, just about where the gate would be.

“No…” Annie whispers, and Mikasa tracks her gaze arriving at the same conclusion.

“Move.”

Annie swallows, sprinting after Mikasa as they charge towards the camp office building. There’s no time to lose.

The Colossal Titan is at the gate.

“Hand me that crate of cannonballs, Eren,” Taren says, taking the heavy box from the shorter boy and setting it on the stack.

“Sheesh, how long is our assignment today? I’m already pooped,” Connie whines, slumping against the stack of boxes.

“Quit being a baby, Connie. This is the time for us to prove that we can work hard, not just pass with high marks,” Eren snorts, earning an eyeroll from Connie. Sasha finishes polishing the cannon they’re at, then wipes her brow and turns to the others.

“This one’s done. So only… uh, sixteen to go?”

The squad groans, picks up their packs, and moves across the wall to the next cannon, the one just over the gate. As Eren and Connie get to work aligning and wiping down the barrel, Sasha taps Taren’s shoulder.

“Taren, check it out,” she whispers, reaching into her pack and removing an entire smoked ham. Taren’s eyes go wide, and he grabs her wrist.

“Sash! What the hell? Did you steal this from the meat locker?”

Sasha nods proudly and pulls out a long knife.

“Yep! During the afterparty, I snuck down there and liberated it from its frigid imprisonment.”

“Sasha, that’s a serious offense. Meat is so rare, you ought to know that better than anyone,” Mina gasps, having noticed the conversation.

“I do know it better! That’s why I took it. Come on, don’t tell me you aren’t dying for some meat for a change,” Sasha replies, her mouth watering as she slides the knife into the ham and cuts a slice. “Do you want to be a snitch or have a slice?”

Mina and Taren trade exasperated looks, then turn back to Sasha.

“Gimme a slice,” Taren says with a small grin, and Mina smacks her forehead.

“…yeah, fine. Me too.”

“Is that a HAM??” Connie cries out, dropping his rag and running over. “I want a piece!”

The other cadets working on the wall one by one accept a slice of ham from Sasha, and for a minute, work halts as they all sit down and munch on the coveted, succulent meat. Once everyone is finished, work resumes. Sasha and Taren sort through the boxes of cannonballs, ensuring none are damaged or dilapidated.

“Thanks for the ham, Sash,” Taren says, and Sasha blushes lightly and bumps his shoulder.

“Aw, don’t mention it. I was just—”

Crack-BOOM.

Before she can finish her statement, the cadets are sent sprawling by a sudden explosion. A pillar of steam billow around them, and moans and groans echo around the wall as they stagger to their feet, some clutching bruised faces and wrists. Taren peers into the steam, and stumbles backwards in fear when he catches a glimpse of the shape standing within it.

“No…” he whispers to himself. Eren is the first to gather himself, and he quickly draws his blades. “It’s him! It’s the Colossal titan! Connie, run and tell Command! I’ll—”

A resounding crash drowns out Eren’s words as the wall trembles and shivers. Taren watches in horror as chunks of gate and wall are sent hurtling into the air before raining back down on the city, and screams begin to wail up from below. Sasha grabs his arm with trembling fingers, her voice wavering fearfully.

“I-It’s happening again… they’re going to destroy Wall Rose!”

“No, they’re not! We won’t let them,” Taren hisses, grabbing her arm as well. The sound of ODM gear activating rings out as Eren grapples back to the top of the wall, panting and frustrated.

“Eren! What happened?” Thomas, another cadet with the group, shouts as Eren sheaths his blades angrily.

“The coward disappeared! One second he was there, the next he just vanished! I almost had him, too.”

“We need to regroup and get ready for an invasion,” Taren calls as he runs over to the other two boys. “The titans will be swarming the gate, and it’s safe to say the Colossal titan left a big enough gap for them to get through.”

“Listen to your comrade!” an authoritative voice rings out as a member of the Garrison regiment lands on the wall near them. “Those of you who got close to the damn thing, report to HQ, straight away! The garrison will keep an eye on the gate.”

“Yes, sir!” the cadets reply quickly, saluting him before grappling down off the wall and zipping through the city.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire, cadets! Time to put your training to work!” a sergeant of the Garrison regiment is shouting as cadets scramble around HQ, preparing gear and loading their ODM’s with gas. Eren, Connie, Sasha, Taren, and the other scouts from the wall run through the halls. Eren stops when he sees Armin struggling to fill his gas tank, and Sasha and Connie run to give their report on the Colossal. Taren is about to follow them when wide blue eyes lock with his.

“Taren!” Annie calls, running over to him and grabbing his shoulders. “Thank God… you’re ok. Good.”

Taren can’t help but smile at her, and he wraps an arm around her back in a light hug.

“Yeah. I’m fine. The Colossal titan popped up right next to us, but nobody got hurt.”

Annie nods, an oddly contemplative look on her face.

“Better gear up then, they’re sending us out there. It’s all hands on deck, including the fresh graduates.”

Several minutes later, all of the cadets and garrison soldiers are gathered into the courtyard as Kitz Woermann, the captain of the Trost Garrison, issues operation orders.

“I want everyone to split into four squadrons, as practiced! All squadrons are responsible for supply running, message relay, and enemy combat under the command of the Garrison regiment! The Intercept squadron will take the vanguard. The Cadet squadron will take the middle guard. And the Elites will take the rearguard.”

Taren and Annie share a look. Why would the Elites be stationed in the back?

“Probably to cover the evacuation. They care more about the civilians than about us,” Annie murmurs in response to the unasked question. Taren nods and turns his attention back to the Captain, who’s still detailing the plan.

“That’s right! The outer gate is history! The titans are in! This means the Armored titan is likely to reappear. If and when he does, the inner gate will also be history.”

A murmur of fear ripples through the assembled soldiers, and Captain Kits grits his teeth.

“Quiet! Your mission is a very simple one: defend the wall until the evacuation is done! Be aware, all of you, that desertion is punishable by execution! If it comes to it, lay down your lives! Dismissed!”

“SIR!”

The soldiers all salute, then the courtyard fills with chatter as everyone scrambles to group up with their squads and get out into the city. Taren and Annie group up with the other cadets in their squad, who look… unprepared, to say the least. Jean is clutching his face, muttering about how if this had happened a little later he could be in the interior already, and Historia is comforting Daz as he vomits on the pavement. As an argument breaks out between Jean and Eren, Annie rolls her eyes and taps Taren’s fist with the back of her hand.

“C’mon. Let’s get moving.”

“One sec,” Taren says before turning and jogging over to Historia.

“Taren?” she asks as he pulls her to her feet and into a tight hug.

“Be safe, Krista. Remember your training. You’re smaller and faster than the titans, but they’re strong. Don’t forget it.”

“I w-won’t,” Historia murmurs as he sets her down and jogs off with Annie. She has this terrible sinking in her stomach as he walks off, like somehow, the next time they see each other… everything will be different. A strong hand lands on her shoulder from behind, and she jerks around, misty eyes landing on Ymir’s soft but serious face.

“I’ve got your back, Historia,” Ymir says quiet enough not to be overheard, and Historia rubs her eyes and nods.

“A-and I have yours. None of us are dying today.”

Ymir’s lips curl up in a smile, and she smacks Historia’s back lightly before turning to head out of the courtyard.

“Damn straight.”

About half an hour later, Annie and Taren are skimming across rooftops side by side. A titan looms ahead of them, and with practiced precision, Annie cuts up for the nape as Taren dives low and takes its legs. Taren’s razer-sharp swords sever the Achilles tendons, dropping the monster to its knees as Annie deals the killing blow, leaving the steaming corpse on the pavement.

“How many is that?” Taren asks breathlessly as they land on a rooftop.

“Five already,” Annie says cooly, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings as they take a breather. The other three members of their unit, Reiner, Bertholt, and Samuel are performing about as well, but the titans seem to be coming in larger quantities with time. “They’re pushing further in. We aren’t moving fast enough. What are the other squads doing?”

“Maybe we should check on them,” Taren says as he catches his breath and shakes out his shoulders. Annie nods, and calls over Reiner, who nods along as she explains their thoughts.

“I agree. You and Taren can hold your own. Eren and Thomas’s squad should be about ten rooftops that way, go see how they’re doing.”

“On it,” Annie says, shooting Reiner a peculiar look before grappling off in the direction he indicated. Taren follows along after her, keeping his eyes peeled for threats and his comrades. They reach the area where Eren’s group is meant to be operating, but they don’t see them. Sharing a concerned glance, they push on until they hear screaming.

Redirecting in an instant, Annie and Taren round a corner just in time to witness carnage. Eren is lying on a rooftop, missing a leg and unmoving, and the rest of his squad is in the process of being devoured. Taren feels his heart leap into his throat and tears prick at his eyes. How could this be happening? The 34^th unit only got deployed a few minutes ago, how are they being eaten alive already? Annie, however, remains unruffled, and shouts over the sound of wind in their ears.

“Taren! Armin is in trouble! Grab him, quick, I’ll try to save Mina! Eren will just have to hang on for a little, and the others aren’t going to make it!”

“R-right!” Taren shouts back, gritting his teeth and zooming towards Armin, who is about to be grabbed by a bearded titan. Teran lets out an animalistic shout as he descends on Armin, letting out all his anger at seeing his friends hurt in one sound. He grapples onto the roof behind Armin and wraps his arms around Armin’s waist just as the titan’s hand descends. But as his ODM gear pulls them to safety, a blow of devastating strength plows into Taren’s back.

He can feel his bones creak and snap, and Armin slips from his grasp. Before he can even register his pain, he slams into a low rise on the roof, which catches him squarely in the chest. All the air is knocked from his lungs, and pain unlike anything he’s ever felt billows through his torso like magma. He can’t even scream—he has no air in his lungs to release. He flops onto his face, gasping for air as tears stream down his face. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move… and then he can’t even see.

Annie lands on a nearby rooftop, panting heavily and splattered in titan blood. She sets Mina down beside her, injured but very much alive. That titan had nearly had her. She hadn’t expected it to be so much harder without Taren’s help. Speaking of Taren, her gaze shifts over to where Armin had been, expecting to see the two boys moving to safety, and maybe even a dead titan.

What she sees instead makes a curdling scream bubble out of her throat. Taren lays in a blood pile on the roof, and Armin is screaming Eren’s name as his friend is sucked into the bearded titan’s mouth. The titan strolls away casually as Annie sprints across the rooftops, clearing gaps with leaps and bounds until she reaches Armin and grabs him by the collar.

“Armin! Dammit Armin, what the hell happened? Stop crying and talk to me!” She shakes him roughly, mist creeping into her own vision as Armin sputters out a sentence.

“W-we got caught o-off guard… Thomas… Mileaus… E-Eren… it got E-Eren…” He degrades back into sobs, and Annie drops him roughly and runs over to Taren, rolling him onto his back to inspect his injuries. He’s fully unconscious, and blood stains the entire front of his shirt. She quickly unbuttons his top and spread it open to inspect the damage… and has to turn away and vomit the bile that rises in her throat.

His entire chest looks like a messy blob of flesh and bones, and shattered ribs stick through the skin at odd angles. The blood dribbles from a dozen punctures (and his mouth,) but checking his pulse bring some relief. He’s alive—barely. Without even asking, she strips Armin’s jacket off and grabs a set of discarded ODM gear from a fallen cadet, using his jacket as well as her own to form a makeshift stretcher.

“Don’t you dare die on me, you bastard,” Annie sobs to herself as she assembles the stretcher, considering the best way to shift him onto it without risking puncturing any organs. The sound of approaching ODM gear fills the air, and a moment later, a voice calls out.

“Annie! Annie, is that you? What’s going on?” Connie shouts as he, Ymir, and Historia land on the roof alongside her. Annie turns to them with angry tears in her eyes, and as her body shifts, they catch a glimpse of Taren’s body. They all freeze for a moment, and a garbled scream tears itself out of Historia’s throat.

“N-NOOOOO! No, TAREN! Not Taren!” She bolts over to his still form and reaches for him with trembling hands as sobs bubble out of her throat. Her hands hover over him, unsure what to do or how to help but unable to retract.

“He’s alive. For now,” Annie murmurs, wiping her cheeks and setting her face in a hard grimace. “We need to move him before more titans come, but I… I don’t know how.”

“I do,” Ymir says as her and Connie approach. “It’ll be risky but it’s the only shot. Take a few blades out of that ODM gear you’ve got there and slide it under his back. He might get a few lacerations, but it’s a helluva lot better than internal bleeding.”

“Mina, get over here and lend a hand!” Connie shouts, waving the trembling girl over as they begin executing Ymir’s plan. Within a minute or two, Taren is on the stretcher, and they all step back for some air.

“What now? Th-there’s still titans around,” Historia mumbles. The others glance between each other, and Ymir sighs.

“She’s right. We can’t afford to move him all the way out of the city yet, but we also can’t leave him here. We’ll just have to protect him until back up arrives.”

“No one is coming,” Annie says softly, earning surprised stares. “We’re it. If we weren’t, they likely wouldn’t have sent us out at all. It will be hours at a minimum until any amount of support arrives. We’ll just have to try to get him over the wall and hope they have infirmaries set up.”

“How do you expect to do that? You won’t be able to carry him without jostling the stretcher too much,” Ymir scoffs, crossing her arms. “Look, I know it’s bad Annie but don’t get ahead of yourself. We just have to—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Ymir,” Annie snarls. “Krista, come here. I have an idea.”

The others watch wordlessly as Annie measures out a length of wire just as long as the stretcher and cuts it free from the spare set of ODM gear. She measures a second length and then secures the two wires to the front of her gear and the back of Historia’s.

“We’ll have to move in near perfect synchronization, but this will keep us from moving apart. Now go, Krista. Over the wall.”

Historia doesn’t protest, and the sounds of Ymir and Connie’s shouts quickly fade as they zoom out across the roofs towards the inner gate.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

Historia and Annie, through a miracle of desperate precision and coordination, manage not to jostle Taren’s body too much until they reach the wall. They pause to consider the behemoth of stone rising before them, and Historia can feel tears burning down her cheeks. She glances down at the pale, bloodied form of her cousin and swallows hard.

“Annie… I-I don’t think we’re gonna make it…”

“We’re going to make it! He is going to make it!” Annie shouts almost hysterically as she turns and grabs Historia by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Historia. Taren told me everything. I know who you are. He trusted me. I need you to trust me.”

Historia stares at Annie in shock for a moment, then slowly nods.

“O-ok. If he told you my name… then I can trust you.”

Annie nods, taking a deep breath before removing the wires from the front of her ODM gear, detaching herself from Historia. She quickly takes stock of her surroundings—no other squadrons are in view. Good.

“Don’t freak out,” Annie says as she flicks the tiny hook out from the ring on her right index finger. Without another word, she leaps off of the roof, and cuts a slice across her finger with the ring. She’s enveloped in a burst of light, and then a cocoon of darkness. And when her eyes open, she towers above Historia, who is staring up at her agape. Annie carefully reaches down and scoops Taren into her palm, then extends her other hand to Historia.

Historia stares at Annie nervously, but tentatively steps into the palm of the female titan. Annie nods at her, then carefully cups the small girl in her hand, then deposits her on her shoulder. Sensing her intention, Historia latches onto Annie’s back with her ODM gear. Annie swallows nervously. She needs to make this climb, fast. If any of the soldiers see her scaling the wall, they’ll know she’s no ordinary titan.

After one final scan to ensure the coast is clear, Annie hardens the finger of her empty hand as well as all ten of her toes, and then leaps high into the air, swiftly scaling the wall at breakneck speed. She digs her fingers and toes in and leaps up as high as she can before latching in again and repeating the motion. In three might bounds, she clears the wall, and in another calculated motion, she sets Taren down and severs her connection to her titan form.

Historia looks visibly shaken as Annie’s titan form falls back down into the city with a crash, and for a moment, the two girls stand atop the wall in silence. Historia stares at Annie’s steaming form, and though she looks surprised, she isn’t reeling as much as Annie had expected her to be. As the awkward silence begins to stretch, Annie clears her throat.

“So… uh, are we good?”

Historia takes a deep breath and nods slowly.

“...we’re good, yeah.”

Annie lets out a little puff of relief and nods.

“Good. Okay, we need to re-attach. For to get back down, we’re going to do a pendulum motion to keep his body moving smoothly and avoid a sudden drop.”

Historia’s lips press together nervously, but she manages to nod.

“Th-that won’t be easy… if we mess up, we could—”

“Then don’t mess up,” Annie hisses. “Let’s get in position. I’m going to reattach us.”

About thirty minutes later, Reiner and Bertholt are taking a brief rest on the roof when Annie lands beside them, breathing heavily.

“What’s the situation?” she asks as they turn to look at her. Reiner crosses his arms with a scowl.

“So far, everything is going well. We’re just holding out while they finish the evacuation, then we’ll withdraw. We’re taking major casualties, but we’re holding the titans back from the inner gate.”

Annie blinks, a little caught of guard. She had been referring to… the other situation, but if Reiner doesn’t want to talk about his plan, she isn’t going to push.

“Fine. So we just get back into it until they give the order?”

“Right,” Reiner says with a nod. As the three cadets activate their ODM gear to head towards the nearest titan wandering towards the inner gate, Bertholt shouts to Annie over the rush of air and gas from their gear.

“Annie! How is Taren? We saw Connie and Ymir, they said he got hurt!”

“He did,” Annie shouts back, her face screwing up in a look of irritation. “Krista and I got him over the wall, she’s with him at an infirmary over there.”

Their conversation pauses as they reach the titan, and the trio become a flurry of blades as they dispatch the monster. Once done, they land on the nearest roof, and Reiner wipes his forehead.

“How bad did he get hurt?”

Annie regards him skeptically. She doesn’t understand why he seems to have two personas; the warrior and the cadet. But he’s in cadet mode, so she responds in kind.

“…badly. To be honest, I’m not even sure if he’ll wake up, and if he does, he may not walk again. I’m not a medic, but he broke most of his ribs and potentially his back.”

Reiner and Bertholt both grow quiet at this. Reiner’s face slowly hardens, and his voice drops low.

“Good. Maybe now you can start acting like a warrior again.”

Annie’s eyes darken with anger. That’s the side of Reiner she’d been expecting to be greeted by.

“Screw you,” she growls before leaping from the roof and grappling away. Reiner grits his teeth, but Bertholt just looks at him with sad eyes.

“You didn’t have to say that to her.”

Reiner’s eyes flash as he turns to Bertholt with a snort.

“She needs to get herself together. She acts like she’s the strong one, but she’s a quitter. She wanted to go back when Marcelle died, and she told me yesterday that she doesn’t even want to finish the mission.”

Bertholt’s conflicted expression lingers as he and Reiner zip off after Annie. It’s not that he doesn’t still believe in the mission—he does. But he can feel the tension forming between Annie and Reiner; which is in a way representative of the struggle between their duty to their cause and their affection for the people they call comrades. Sooner or later, something is going to snap, and Bertholt is already dreading that.

Two hours after the troops are deployed, the evacuation is completed, and the order is given to fall back behind the wall. But as the cadets of the 104^th assemble on a rooftop in view of HQ, the sinking realization that they are nearly out of gas settles over them. Headquarters has been visibly over run by titans, and the last group to refuel informs them all that the supply runners have barricaded themselves inside.

As panic and despair begin to set in on the weary, grief-stricken cadets, Mikasa suddenly dashes across the roof toward Annie, who is standing silently beside Reiner, Bertholt, Connie and Marco as they discuss strategy for retaking HQ to get supplies.

“Annie!” Mikasa shouts as she skids to a stop in front of the other girl. “Annie, where is Eren? Ymir told me that you saw him last. She said you guys saved his squad from titans, where is he?”

Annie’s face remains impassive on the surface, but deep inside, the broiling part of her that is already churning with anguish grows a little larger.

“Mikasa, he… he didn’t make it. We tried to help, but we could only save Armin and Mina.”

Mikasa’s face blanches, and she takes a trembling step backwards, her eyes darting around like a hunted animal’s. She spots Armin, trembling in a ball against the rise of the house they’re on, and Mina, crying softly as she clutches her bruised midsection as Sasha tentatively tries to comfort her.

“I’m s-sorry, Mikasa,” Armin bawls, clutching his face. “I-it should have been m-me that died, not Eren…”

Sasha looks up from Mina with a somber expression, her usual optimism replaced with a depressed solemnity. Mikasa takes a deep breath and sets a hand on Armin’s shoulder, kneeling down to comfort him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Armin. We don’t have time to get emotional right now. Come on, to your feet.”

Armin blinks in surprise and sniffs back his tears as Mikasa helps him up. She strides forward, a sudden confidence in her step as she points at Marco.

“If we clear out the titans attacking HQ, we can refuel our gear and make it over the wall. Marco, is that an accurate assessment?”

Marco looks as surprised as anyone else, but he clears his throat and nods.

“Well, yeah, but how can we? There’s too many of them for—”

“Not too many for me,” Mikasa declares, raising her sword over her head.

“You all listen to me. I’m strong. Real strong. Stronger than any of you. As far as I’m concerned, I’m surrounded by unskilled, frightened worms. You all can come with me, or just sit here and twiddle your thumbs and watch how it’s done.”

“Wait, Mikasa! You can’t take them alone, are you out of your mind?” Sasha cries out. Jean climbs to his feet indignantly.

“You’re being crazy! There’s no way you could hope to beat them!”

“If I don’t beat them, I die,” Mikasa replies cooly, turning away and gazing at HQ. “But if I win, I live. And the only way to win is to fight.”

With that, she jumps off of the roof and grapples towards the nearest building, quickly heading towards HQ. The other cadets stare after her for a few seconds, until Jean grits his teeth and raises his sword.

“Don’t just stand there! We weren’t taught to let our comrades die alone, unless you are a coward! Come on!”

As Jean rushes off after Mikasa, the other cadets begin to follow one by one. Annie shoots a look at Reiner, who nods and takes off after the others. The three of them are in no danger from regular titans, but they may as well help their friends. Even though all of this is HIS fault, Annie reminds herself with a scowl.  

Why had Reiner decided to attack Trost today? Is he even planning on taking out the inner gate, or did he just want to remind the people of the walls that they’re living on the edge of a knife? He had told her yesterday that he wants to flush out the founder, but unless he takes out that inner gate, all he’s accomplished is getting people killed. And the fact that Taren may still be one of them lights a boiling hot inferno in her chest. If he does die…

She’ll have someone to blame.

After a series of risky plans and extremely close calls, the cadets manage to reclaim their fuel supply and get back over the wall, with the help of a mysterious titan that turns out to be Eren. Although Annie is itching to check on Taren and Historia, Reiner pulls her and Bertholt aside before she can leave.

“It probably goes without saying, but this changes things. Eren may or may not have the Founding titan. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him and wait for our chance. Either way, I think that we need to begin focusing our efforts on capturing Eren and trying to get him back home.”

“Yeah. Sure. Sounds great,” Annie says frostily, brushing past Reiner. He glares after her as she strides off to the infirmary, and his hands clench into fists.

“Little twerp,” he grumbles to himself. Bertholt doesn’t say a word as Reiner stalks off as well. It’s like watching a train in the distance approach an automobile stopped on the tracks.

When Annie arrives at the infirmary, she has to weave through medics rushing between injured patients. Most are military, though there’s a few civilians who got hurt during the evacuation. The scary part is how few people there are. Not many people ‘only’ get injured by a titan—most either live unharmed or die awful deaths. Before she reaches the room Taren is being looked after in, she’s stopped by a familiar face and a grateful hug.

“Annie!” Mina cries out, “I-I never said thank you. You saved my life. Without you, I… I would be a lot worse off than a couple broken ribs and a beat up arm.”

Annie flushes a little as she peels Mina off of her and slips around her.

“Oh… right. Forget it, it was nothing.”

“No,” Mina says, walking alongside Annie toward Taren’s room. “It was brave and it saved my life. I owe you, Annie. I won’t forget that.”

Annie pauses for a second as Mina’s words register with her.

“You don’t owe me anything, Mina,” she whispers before slipping into Taren’s room. A pair of medics are discussing quietly in the corner while Historia sits nearby, clutching her cousin’s hand. She looks up at Annie as she enters, and runs over, wrapping her in a hug.

“Annie! I heard everyone made it back. Well… you know what I mean. Mina told me everything.”

“Yeah. Most of us made it, somehow,” Annie says, flinching as Historia hugs her and waiting patiently for her to let go. Historia seems to sense Annie’s discomfort and releases her, smiling sheepishly before sitting down again.

“The medics are doing their best, but they aren’t confident. They need to operate, one of his ribs is sticking into his lung. They said… they said all of his ribs are at least fractured. I think one of them used the word “liquidated” to describe the state of… his chest.”

Annie glares at Taren’s sleeping form, her hands clenching at her sides. She’s strong, she knows she is. Stronger than Reiner definitely, maybe even stronger than Mikasa or Bertholt. But right now, she can’t do anything. Not a thing. Her fists start to tremble at her sides, and her eyes mist over with tears. She wants to scream, or break something, or rip her hair out, or do anything.

But she can’t.

She can only watch, choking back angry sobs. Historia watches as Annie’s face slowly contorts in despair, frustration, and anger, and she walks forward, reaching a hand out tentatively.

“Annie? Do you… I mean, are you—”

Historia’s sentence is cut off as the air is suddenly squeezed from her lungs by the force of Annie’s hug. Historia wraps her arms around Annie and holds her tightly as she cries against her shoulder. Historia strokes her hair slowly, but doesn’t say a word. No sweet nothings will help Annie right now.

“Krista…?” Annie eventually croaks, pulling away from the shorter girl.

“What is it?” Historia asks softly as Annie wipes at her tears.

“Let me know if he survives surgery.”

“I’ll come find you,” Historia says with a nod as Annie turns and walks out.

Several hours later, after Eren successfully uses his titan power to block the Trost gate, the cadets are assigned to clean up the bodies of their comrades scattered throughout the city. Annie wears a rag over her face and walks alongside Reiner and Bertholt. Her stomach churns, but her mind isn’t on the carnage. She isn’t hardly bothered by the mutilated corpses, even those of the cadets she spent the last three years training with.

She got over seeing comrades die after Marcelle.

No, it’s the worry that’s consuming her. Eldian technology isn’t bad, but they aren’t as medically advanced as Marley and the rest of the world. In a Marleyan hospital, they would have anesthesia and IVs and all kinds of other tools to help make the operation a success. In the walls, she has more faith in her prayers than the surgeons. She suddenly pauses when a body catches her eye, and she turns to inspect it, only to blink in shock.

“Reiner? Weren’t you and Bertholt with Marco during the last phase of the mission? What happened?”

Reiner pauses and looks over at the body, then waves her over.

“Leave him for someone else to find. He overheard something he shouldn’t have and had an ‘accident’.”

Annie feels that angry knot in her stomach grow a little larger, but there isn’t much she can do about it at the moment.

“I see. That’s too bad.”

Several hours later, as the cadets sit around the burning pyres of their fallen comrades, each mourning in their own ways, Annie stands silent and alone in a shadow, watching the flickering flames rise high into the sky. So much has happened since she slept last—so much has changed. Eren is, as they speak, is in a coma and being carted to the capital to stand trial for being a titan; but that’s somehow the least pressing thing on her mind.

“Annie,” Historia’s quiet voice makes her flinch as the girl walks up next to her.

“Hi—Krista, hey,” Annie says just as quietly, turning back to the fire. “How is Taren?”

“Alive. The surgery was pronounced a success. He hasn’t woken up yet, they put him on some drugs that I guess won’t wear off for a few more hours,” Historia replies softly, her gaze also on the flickering flames. “I… I heard some things about what happened after I got off the battlefield.”

“Whatever you heard is probably true,” Annie says with a sigh. “Eren is a titan shifter. Marco is dead. The wall got patched up.”

“Wow,” Historia whispers, rubbing her face. “Eren is a titan, too… and I thought I had secrets.”

“I know what you mean,” Annie sighs, her shoulder slumping. “Did they tell you the selection ceremony is postponed until tomorrow?”

“Yeah, they did,” Historia replies. Her gaze flicks across the other cadets—Jean on his knees trying not to cry, Connie standing silently beside him, Ymir, watching her and nodding when they make eye contact, and all the others she’s grown to love staring at the burning pyres like they’re peering into the endless depths of despair itself. “You still thinking of joining the MP’s, or…”

“Not anymore,” Annie says with a shake of her head. “I’m joining the Scouts.”

“Me too,” Historia nods. “I think most of us are.”

“We’ll have to see tomorrow,” Annie replies as she turns to walk away. “I’m going to visit Taren.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT

The first thing Taren registers is fear. Flashes of memory scatter through his mind like flower petals caught in a breeze—Eren being devoured, Armin slipping from his arms, his body crunching against the wall, Annie and Mina somewhere behind him.

“Armin!” Taren shouts as consciousness suddenly returns to him. He jerks upright, but cries out in pain and immediately slumps back as his entire torso seems to light on fire with agony. He lies there moaning for a moment, trying to regulate his breathing, when a shape on his lap hums and slowly rises. Golden hair glitters in the moonlight sneaking in through the infirmary window, and Annie’s blue eyes blink at him sleepily.

“…you’re awake,” she muses, a small smile creeping up her face. Taren takes a moment to take in his surroundings—the infirmary cot, Annie beside him, the bandages wrapped tightly all around his damaged body—and then he nods slowly. At least his neck seem undamaged.

“Yeah, I guess so. What happened?”

“We won. Eren is a titan shifter. Not everyone survived, but Sasha and Historia are fine. You broke every rib in your body. Now go back to sleep.”

Taren’s jaw slowly drops, then clenches shut. The longer he stays awake, the more his chest starts to throb, especially just over his heart. So he takes a deep breath, wheezes when he feels his lungs strain and complain, and then nods.

“Ok. But you’re going to explain all that tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Sure. Shut up,” Annie yawns, laying her head back on his leg and tugging her blanket tighter around her shoulders. Taren cracks a smile at her sleepy-poutiness and lets his eyes drift shut again, re-succumbing to sleep before pain overtakes him.

The next day, several of the scouts stop by to visit, most looking extremely relieved to hear of his survival, especially considering that surgery had been required to patch up his left lung, which had been punctured by a rib that narrowly missed his heart. One rather surprising visitor is a scout section commander, who enthusiastically introduces herself to him as she barges into his room.

“Well he-llo! I am Section Commander Hange Zöe, but everyone just calls me Hange. I’m collecting accounts from some of the soldiers who had especially close encounters with titans! So tell me, what was it…” she pauses, riffling through papers on her clipboard before finding a page and clicking her pen. “…Lenz! Here you are, Taren Lenz, yes? Yes, good, what was it like being smacked by a titan? I mean, how much power would you say was behind that blow?”

Taren stares at her practically aghast as she stares back eagerly, awaiting his account. It’s not something he wants to think back on, but he feels bad disappointing her, so he clears his throat.

“Um… bad? It felt really bad. I guess… it felt pretty comparable to ODM gear on about eighty percent power?”

Hange grins delightedly as she jots down notes.

“Yes, yes! That’s what I’m looking for. Some good solid estimations. Most soldiers, especially cadets, don’t care to share, which is a real bummer for me, you know? How are we supposed to learn more about the creatures if everyone is too scared to talk about them?”

Taren listens with a growing sense of respect but also skepticism for the woman who is clearly extremely devoted to her work.

“Uh… well, yeah I guess that’s true. It’s probably just that it’s hard to discuss something so frightening, right? I mean, I definitely don’t appreciate thinking hard enough about what it felt like to tell you about it, so I see where they are coming from.”

Hange laughs and sets her pen down.

“But you do still talk about it, and that’s the difference, Lenz. We’re soldiers working for the betterment of humanity. For the Scouts, a big part of that means taking whatever information we can get on these creatures. Let me ask you this, would you rather be smacked by a titan and live but have to recount it, or just get eaten and die?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I’d prefer this,” Taren admits, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes as he considers her perspective. She laughs again, shoots him a wink, and turns to leave.

“Damn good answer, Mr. Lenz. I do hope you’ll consider the scouts once your bones are in less pieces, I’d love to have someone like you around.”

“I will,” Taren says softly as the section commander turns and exits the room, leaving him alone with her words.

That night, Sasha, Historia, Annie, Ymir, Connie, and Armin all stop by to share some of the food from the celebratory feast and the news of who all had joined the Scouts with Taren. The room, though still his prison as he heals, suddenly feels much more alive for Taren as joking, laughing, and even a dose of bragging about the exploits of the battle of Trost are flung around his room. As Connie and Sasha argue about who kept their cool better during the raid on HQ, Armin sits beside Taren’s bed next to Annie and clears his throat.

“Hey, Taren, and I guess Annie, too. I just wanted to say, thank you.”

Taren blinks in surprise and glances at Annie, who shrugs.

“For what?” Taren asks, and Armin chuckles sheepishly.

“Well, for saving me and all. I was titan chow before you guys showed up.”

“We were just being good teammates,” Annie says, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“I know that. But it still means a lot to me, because I’m still alive.”

Taren frowns at Armin's words and lets out a solemn sigh.

“Other people can’t say the same. If we had been faster, Milieus at least might—”

“And if you had been slower, I wouldn’t be here. It’s not about who you can’t save, I think. It’s about who you can,” Armin replies with a nervous smile. Taren tilts his head a little, and his frown slowly grows into a smile as well.

“I guess so. You’re a smart guy, Armin.”

Armin blushes and laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his head.

“Well, I don’t know about that, I just… well, fine. Thanks for saying that.”

“Armin, where is Mikasa?” Annie suddenly asks, causing Armin to pause and glance toward the door with a nod.

“In the hall, eating alone. She’s worried about Eren. He fell into a coma after blocking up the wall, and he hasn’t woken up yet. They’re planning a trial for him, and a lot of people are calling for his execution..”

Taren and Annie both nod in understanding.

“Makes sense. Being away from someone you’re worried about is scary,” Taren says.

“Don’t remind me,” Annie mumbles under her breath, just quiet enough for Armin and Taren not to hear. Eventually, the cadets are asked to either quiet down or leave by a medic, so they bid Taren farewell until he’s recovered enough to join up with the other Scout recruits.

Soon enough, the numbers are whittled down to Annie, Historia, Sasha, and Ymir. Sasha considers Taren with a face weighed down by a mix of heavy emotions, and her mouth opens and shuts a couple times. Silence lingers in the room, and Taren can feel her growing embarrassed, so he lifts an arm and extends a hand towards her.

“Come here, potato girl.” Sasha flushes and catches her lip in her teeth as she steps closer to him and sets her hand in his. He grips it tightly, and she meets his eyes nervously as he continues. “Sasha, whatever you have to say, you don’t have to say yet. I know it’s hard to miss someone, but it will only be a couple months until I’m better, then I’ll be right there with the rest of you. Ok?”

Sasha nods, still fighting back tears as she whispers a soft “Ok,” and gives his hand a squeeze before turning and walking out of the room. Taren glances over at Annie then.

“Annie, would you mind finding me some water?”

Annie narrows her eyes slightly.

“I’m not your nurse,” she huffs as she stands and follows Sasha out of the room. Historia immediately runs to the bed, dropping her head into his lap and hugging his legs tightly.

“Get better, Taren,” she whispers into his sheets as she grips them tightly. He pats her head and chuckles softly, which devolves into a short wheezing fit.

“I will. Be safe, and don’t miss me too much.”

“I will,” Historia says with a nod, rubbing her face against his leg before standing up and wiping away tears. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Only for a little bit,” Taren reminds her, earning an eyeroll and an exasperated huff from his cousin.

“A lot more than in a long time, though.”

“You’re stronger than you were then,” he says as she turns to pull the door open. She shoots one last wistful glance back at him.

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” Taren says back as she finally slips out of the room. Ymir turns to follow her, but Taren holds up a hand. “Ymir, wait.”

She pauses with her hand on the door and looks over at him warily.

“…what?”

“Take care of her for me.”

An almost imperceptible smile creases Ymir’s lips, and she tilts her head in a nod.

“With my life.”

With that, Taren is alone again, and Annie enters a moment later with a glass of water in hand.

“Did you get out everything you wanted to tell them?”

Taren blinks, opening his mouth bashfully.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that, I just—”

“I get it, dumbass,” Annie says with a smirk as she hands him the water. “It’s alright to want to talk in private. It only takes, like, a minute to get a cup of water, though.”

“Sorry,” Taren says, accepting the water gratefully and slowly draining it. “Thanks for the water, though.”

“Sure,” Annie shrugs, sitting down beside him again. She grows quiet as her hand creeps towards his, slowly lacing her fingers with his before sighing. “So… I guess this is goodbye for a while, then. I’m leaving with the others in the morning.”

“I guess so, yeah,” Taren says with a sigh. “I never did thank you and Historia for dragging my butt over the wall.”

“Well, you should. It was hard as hell,” Annie says with a playful twinkle in her eye. “Repay me by being a good boy and healing fast.”

“I will. I promise,” Taren chuckles as she leans in and plants a slow, careful kiss on his lips. The moment lingers as the two of them take the moment to relish everything that has been, everything they’ve had together, before she pulls away, a somber look in her eyes. “I love you, Annie,” Taren whispers as their eyes lock together. A shiver runs down Annie’s spine, and she turns away before standing and walking over to the door. Her hand pauses on the handle, and as she takes a step out, she turns back to him one last time.

“I… do too. Just come back to me.”

And with that, she flicks off the lamp and shuts his door.

The new recruits ride out with the rest of the Scouts the next morning. It’s only a couple hours ride to the Scout regiment’s HQ, a giant old building that was originally a manor house. They’re each given rooms and instructions for the rest of the week and dismissed for the night. After about a week, Annie is returning to her room from the bathroom down the hall when a figure steps out in front of her, tall and shrouded in the shadows.

“Annie. We need to talk,” Reiner says lowly, and Annie feels the hair on the back of her neck immediately rise.

“About what?”

“About the mission,” Reiner hisses softly, and Annie rolls her eyes, sneering back under her breath.

“We’ve talked about this, Reiner. I’m out. Do things your way, whatever. But I’m done hurting people for you.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to keep following orders because you’re a warrior, Annie. You’ve gotten lost in this little fantasy world you’ve created in your head between you and Taren. Snap out of it, Annie. You and him, together? It can never happen. What happens when he finds out who you are? What you’re responsible for?”

Annie grits her teeth as her hands ball into angry fists at her sides.

“What I am responsible for? You don’t get to lecture me about responsibility, Reiner. You and Bertholt took those gates down, not me.”

“You’re complicit. It’s the same,” Reiner snarls, grabbing her by the collar and pulling her close to him. “Here’s how this is going to play out. Either you are going to shape up, or everyone is going to learn what you really are. Still think your little fantasy plays out if the entire population of the walls turns on you?”

Hot tears spill down Annie’s face, and she bats Reiner’s hand away, grabbing his wrist and slamming him onto the ground. But rather than press her advantage, she turns away and crosses her arms.

“What do you want, Reiner?”

Reiner groans as he picks himself up off of the ground.

“Sawney and Beane need to go. They’re too valuable. We can’t have that crazy scientist lady learning too much, not yet. Kill them, before the sun is up, and I’ll consider you all in.”

Annie’s blood feels like it’s boiling in her veins, but she doesn’t have much choice here. Besides, maybe doing this will get him off her back.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” she snaps before stalking off to her room.

A formal investigation is launched the following day, but no one is found implicit—Annie manages to fly under the radar by presenting the ODM gear she’d used to create Taren’s stretcher instead of her own. Milieus’s gear. The issue is dropped, and Reiner stops harassing her.

Over the course of the next three weeks, the new scout recruits are put through rigorous training—some is physical, but mostly it involves an intense schedule of memorizing formations, callouts, and a series of signal types and meanings. They’re informed that they’re being prepared for a test scouting mission that will take them from Karanese district into titan territory and back again.

Letters from Taren come every few days, and Annie writes back whenever she can, though his letters come much more often than she is able to send hers. As the days of the 57^th Scouting Mission draws near, Reiner finds an opportunity to volunteer himself, Annie, and Bertholt to clean the stables. Once the three of them are inside the building and alone, Reiner gets to work cleaning and explaining his plan while he does.

“Listen up, you two. I’ve been in contact with Pieck. Her and Zeke are inside the walls. Well, sort of. She’s here, Zeke and some soldiers are on their way with supplies for a more sophisticated mission, so they’ll be a few more weeks before we meet up with them. But in the meantime, Zeke wants us to capture Eren and bring him.”

Annie can feel anxiety rising within her as Reiner speaks. If Zeke is coming, that means that Marley is taking this operation seriously again after all these years. It occurs to her to wonder how her homeland may have changed in her absence; last time she saw Pieck, the girl was ten years old. She must be fifteen, now. What else has aged in the half-decade since she left?

“So what’s our game plan?” Bertholt asks as he scoops a pile of manure and deposits it in a wheelbarrow.

“Annie is going to take this one, solo. She’s the best qualified, and it minimizes our risks if it goes south,” Reiner explains. An indignant scoff pops free of Annie’s throat, and she throws her pitchfork down.

“Like hell I will. What are you talking about, Reiner? Why should I help at all?”

“I thought we were past this, Annie!” Reiner groans, rounding on her angrily. “Remember the deal? You do your job, or we let the devils have you.”

Annie bristles, but before she can snap back, Bertholt steps towards her.

“Annie, listen. I’m certain Zeke could negotiate for Taren’s life. They have no reason to totally eradicate every last Eldian. We’re just taking out the island dev—well, the nation of Paradis, and reclaiming the founder. I’m sure we could ask for all of our friends to be spared.”

Annie snorts and turns her back on them, unable to keep the disgust out of her voice.

“You’re both morons. They hate us, can’t you see that? We’re not like the Marleyans. We’re Eldians. These people on the island, they’re our people. Marley doesn’t care about us. We aren’t special to them, we’re expendable. If you don’t understand that, we were never on the same side. I was only ever here to help myself.” Reiner strides forward, reaching out to grab her ponytail, but she whips around, gut punching him and kicking him backwards before he can. “Put your hands on me again and you die.”

Bertholt catches Reiner and meets Annie’s infuriated gaze pleadingly.

“Annie, listen. I… I know where you’re coming from. But I trust Zeke, alright? No matter what happens, I know he wants what is best for us. So if he says this is what we do, then I think we should listen.”

Annie’s jaw clenches and unclenches, and her posture slowly relaxes.

“Maybe, maybe not. The fact of the matter is that Reiner is right. I’m caught in the web. So fine. You want me to take Eren to Zeke? Consider it done. I’ll grab him during the mission.”

Reiner looks angry and a little perplexed as he shrugs off Bertholt’s assistance and picks his pitchfork up again.

“Fine. That’s settled, then. Now let’s finish cleaning this damn place.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINE

Annie takes a deep breath and holds it, forcing her pounding heart to slow itself down.

One, two three…

Commander Erwin gives the order, and the Scouts charge through the gate. Annie is positioned at the very back, in the left flank. Breath out. Breath in.

Seven, eight, nine…

The formation fans out. A couple titans are spotted as they move through the wrecked buildings of the rural area that used to be just outside of Karanes;* but no action happens other than a few warning beacons. Breath in. Breath out.

Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…

Annie rides in silence as she finds herself more or less alone, riding through the wilderness. She can see the nearest outer guard riding about one hundred meters from her position, but he really isn’t that close to her. Breath in. Breath out.

Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five. That should be long enough.

About forty-five minutes after leaving Karanes, Annie closes her eyes for a moment, carefully compartmentalizing her fear, anxiety, guilt, and every other emotion that could hold her back. She lets her horse slowly drift out of formation and toward the veteran soldier taking up the outer rear left flank, until he notices her approaching him.

“Leonhart! Is there a problem?”

“Yes, sir. I need to speak with you for a moment!”

He sighs and pulls his horse close enough to hers to have a reasonable conversation.

“This better be important, greenie. Breaking formation is a—”

His words devolve onto a choked gurgle that quickly dies in his throat as his lungs fill with blood. Annie flicks the blood from her blade as she withdraws it from his throat, then rides her horse to a small copse of trees and ties it up. Once her horse is secure, she runs out of the trees, opens her ring, and transforms.

Her footsteps change from a light patter to a thunderous pounding as she changes into her fourteen-meter titan form. Her mouth sets in a thin, hard line. Time to get serious. She doesn’t really care who sees her. She just needs to grab Eren and get away. Most likely, they won’t be seeing her again. They’ll assume she tragically died to… well, herself, based on the trajectory she emerged from.

Her intel has Eren placed in the front left, so that’s the direction she takes. She loops around the outside, keeping the outer most spotters just in view. One time, one of them sets off a black flare, which irritates her; but the next spotter she passes doesn’t see her.

Once she reaches the third to front rank, she begins running towards the inside. Eren should be just through here. The first group panics as she rapidly approaches them, and scatter out of her way, throwing up black flares. Fine. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone unless she has to.

She drives further in. The second group attempts to engage her, and with the briefest flicker of regret, she quickly slaughters the three scouts. A shame, but she can’t linger on that. Then she spots the third group. A head of dark hair glints under the sun. That just be him.

But as she approaches and the group fans out, she realizes that the hair is too dark—it’s not Eren, it’s Mikasa. She grits her teeth. They hid Eren’s true location. This changes things. She needs to get out of here before she’s forced to fight Mikasa of all people. Just as the three scouts activate ODM gear, Annie turns and dashes in the other direction.

It takes her about thirty more minutes of running to get all the way around to the right flank, where Reiner and Bertholt are located. As she drives into the formation again, she’s forced to kill two more veterans who try to engage her, but the other scouts she sees fire their flares and move out of her way.

When she finds Reiner, Bertholt, and Armin riding together, she beelines for Reiner. He puts up a great show of trying to fight her, but as she cups him in her hand, he calms down.

“What are you doing, Annie? This better be important.”

She can hear Armin screaming and Bertholt yelling, but she ignores them and carefully whispers to Reiner.

“I was fed false information on where Eren is in the rank. Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, actually,” Reiner murmurs back. “Armin says that everyone was given false info, but he should be in the middle, second to back.”

“Affirmative. But if he isn’t, the mission is off.”

“Fair enough,” Reiner nods. “I’m going to cut off your fingers now.”

Annie nods, and Reiner suddenly spins, slicing through all of her titan’s fingers. Bertholt and Armin cheer, and Annie stands up and runs towards the middle of the formation. Much to her chagrin, however, before she gets there, the Scouts divert into a forest of giant trees that tower high above even titans. She feels frustration and uneasiness rising in her. ODM gear will be a much more potent threat here. Erwin is on to her.

She pushes herself faster, and soon, scouts start leaping at her through the trees. She tries to catch them by the ODM gear and fling them away—it’s the easiest method of disposing of them without just killing them, which she is trying to avoid. As her hand clamps around a veteran soldier and he pops on her fist, she feels a stab of guilt in her chest. Stop! Stop coming! Stop making me kill you, I don’t want to—shut up. Get it together. If they die, they die. Complete the mission.

She shakes her head to clear it and pushes herself even faster. Then, Eren’s group finally comes into view. She keeps her mouth set in a line, but internally, she’s practically singing. This is it. She’s got him.

But just as she closes in, what sounds like hundreds of guns firing rings out. Her hands fly up to cover her nape, and in an instant, her body is immobilized as hundreds of grapples imbed themselves in her body.

Worst still, she can feel her regeneration closing the wounds, only trapping her further. As section commander Hange and commander Erwin begin speaking to her, she can feel panic setting in. She genuinely can’t move and she has to harden her hands to stop them from making a pass at her nape. Hange starts talking about dissecting her, Erwin gives an order to prepare the artillery to blow her hands off at the wrist, and all the while, Eren is only getting further away.

Someone zips down and lands on her head.

“Why don’t you save us all the time and just come out already? We know you’re in there,” Levi says, tapping his foot on her scalp. “What can you possibly hope to gain by stalling? If you’re thinking we’ll let you go, we won’t. If you’re thinking about running, don’t. All you should be thinking about is the innocent men you killed today.”

Annie can feel tears dripping down her real face when Levi says that. I know. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe I let myself be caught, let them learn what I know. Maybe that will make up for… this. But no, no, she can’t. They’ll torture her, and most likely feed her to someone else once they realize how the ability can be transferred. Rage and helplessness boil up within her. If she fails, then this entire mission, every dead scout, was for nothing. She’ll have been nothing but a killer all along. And that’s just too much for her to bear. A raw, animalistic scream tears from her titanic lungs, and all the Scouts go quiet around her.

“Nicely done. I almost lost my composure,” Levi chuckles as all the other scouts begin murmuring nervously. But Annie doesn’t care. She can already hear them. Dozens of titans, approaching her and fast. As the first group comes into view, the Scouts rush to prepare to defend themselves, and Levi growls and stomps on Annie’s head. “Hey! What did you do? You called in some friends, didn’t you?”

As the Scouts scramble to cut down as many titans as they can, the horde closes in on Annie’s body and begins chewing her apart. For all their efforts, the Scouts are too slow. There are simply too many titans. In just a few moments, Annie’s titan body is chewed free. She takes advantage of the commotion to activate her ODM gear and zip up to a nearby tree, where she takes a moment to breath and calm her racing heart.

That was close. Way, way too close. This entire thing was a trap. Erwin had suspected someone in the Scout regiment was a titan shifter other than Eren, and he had been right. Fortunately for her, the order comes to withdraw, and black flares are shot up into the sky. Good. Good, she thinks to herself. I can put this behind me. Zeke will just have to deal with Eren when he gets here. I’m done.

The Scouts pack up the artillery and load onto their horses, and Annie follows along from high up in the trees as they start to move out to return to Karanes. Her goal is simple; she’ll simply stick with the group until she has a chance to break away, get here horse from where she left it, and rejoin the formation. She’ll make up a story to cover herself; after her squad was killed by the Female titan, she hid in that copse of trees until she caught the others on the way back. That ought to—

“Captain Levi! Is that you?”

Annie’s head whips around as five soldiers, also using their ODM gear, come up alongside her. Annie recognizes them—Levi Ackerman's Special Operations squad. Well, shit. Except then, she sees Eren with them, and her plans immediately change. Fortunately, her hood is in place over her face, and they can’t tell that it’s her.

“Hey, wait, that’s not captain Levi!” the same soldier says. Annie sighs. She had really hoped to be done killing today. In a fell swoop, she cuts down the Scout, earning cries of alarm from the rest of the squad. They pull ahead of her as she readjusts her course, blocking out their callouts to each other and focusing on one goal: secure Eren Yeager.

It’s clear that the veteran soldiers are more experienced with their ODM gear than she as they start to pull ahead of her. Annie grits her teeth in frustration. She hadn’t wanted to transform again, not yet, but she has no choice. She opens her rings, slices her finger, and lands in titan form in a sprint, quickly gaining on the Special Operations squad. She half expects Eren to transform, but he doesn’t—instead, he pushes ahead as the three remaining members drop back to face her.

She swats at the wires of the closest soldier as he moves towards her, but before she can get him, he retracts his grapnels and widens his body to catch air and avoid her hand. A second Scout zips in and several the tendons of her underarm as she lifts it, and it falls limply at her side.

The situation quickly spirals out of control. One of her Achilles tendons gets slashed, and she goes down to one knee. She makes a swipe at the escaping Scout, only to lose the tendons of her other arm. One of them makes a pass at her nape, but she hardens her skin around the area, breaking his blades on impact.

Thinking quickly, she presses her back against the nearest tree as she focuses her regeneration on her arms. But before she can get one operational, the Scouts quickly take out one of her eyes. Realizing what they’re going for, she concentrates all regeneration on that eye. They take the other, but she’s prepared.

As soon as her first eye is healed, she snaps it open just in time to see one of the three soldiers approaching her rapidly. Without a moment of hesitation, she snatches him in her jaws, bites him in half, and spits him out. The other two soldiers seem to lose their cool, and she grins a little.

My turn.

The remaining members of the squad rush her as one, but she catches them off guard again as she raises her freshly healed arm and snatches one out of the air, crushing him before tossing his body away. She winces a little. That kill may have been unnecessary. The other shifts her route to dodge Annie’s second swipe, and she quickly climbs to her feet and continues her pursuit.

The last member of the squad, the girl, zips low beside her feet. Annie lifts her leg, feigning a kick, and the Scout panics and moves out of the way, partially losing control of her momentum and falling behind. Annie doesn’t see if she goes down or not; in any case, she should reach Eren any second.

“I’m gonna KILL YOU!”

Crack-BOOM.

It’s Annie’s turn to be surprised when Eren suddenly transforms directly in front of her. She barely has time to react as Eren barrels down on her, sending a flurry of punches toward her head. She barely dodges each blow, balancing her focus between healing her second arm and dodging Eren’s strikes. She manages to bait him into punching a tree with enough force to shatter his wrist, and he backs off for a moment.

They move the fight into an open clearing, circling slowly before Eren rushes in again. Annie ducks and takes a step backwards, but trips over a large root and falls to her back. Eren quickly pins her down and goes for punch straight down into her face, but she shifts her head, causing him to break his other wrist as well. For a long moment, he sits atop her, trembling with rage.

And then Annie’s second eye pops open. She’s fully healed now. Eren goes for an elbow strike, but Annie redirects it. She wraps her legs around him, and with a grunt of exertion, throws him off of her. She rolls to her feet as he staggers to his, but she knows she’s already won. Hours of sessions spent sparring with both her father and Taren kick in. She’s leagues above Eren in hand to hand.

Sure enough, Eren rushes in for a reckless headbutt, and Annie dodges to the side, catching him and throwing him into a tree, breaking his jaw. He spins around for a punch with his less-damaged hand, but Annie ducks it easily and kicks out his leg. Shifting her momentum, she backfists the side of his head, sending him reeling into another tree.

Sorry, Eren.

Her hand hardens as it zips through the air and slices clean through the head of Eren’s titan, taking out the tree behind him as well. Annie can just see Eren’s body in the exposed nape of his titan. She’s won. She unhinges her jaw, crouches down, and bites Eren out, holding his body with her tongue as she clamps her mouth shut again.

Time to go. She’s done here.

She feels a pang of sorrow as she turns to run towards Wall Maria. Taren will hear about what happened, and she won’t even be there to explain herself. If she even see him again, he may hate her.

I’m sorry.

 She’s snapped out of her commiserating, however, as her jaw is slashed on one side by a Scout. Whirling around quickly, Annie’s eyes widen when she spots Mikasa. Seriously? Annie groans internally. She really doesn’t want to kill Mikasa, but she’s afraid if she can’t, Mikasa will certainly kill her. She tries to catch the dark-haired girl as she zips around her. If she can grab her, she could remove her ODM gear.

But it’s no use. Mikasa is too fast, and her cuts are too precise. Annie catches a cut up her nose which sprays blood into her eyes, and before she can make a move to protect herself, Mikasa takes out her left Achilles, dropping Annie to her knees. She’s barely able to harden her nape in time to stop the next cut.

To make matters worse, as she staggers to her feet, she spots another shape rush by beside Mikasa. Annie tries to accelerate healing in her leg, but her energy is getting quickly depleted. Between two transformations and employing most of her abilities, Annie is getting tired. She’ll have to—

She doesn’t even have time to finish that thought. Whoever the other Scout is, they’re simply too fast for her to keep up with. One arm falls limp at her side. Then she loses both her eyes. She staggers to her feet, only for her legs to give out under her to a flurry of slashes.

No, no, NO! I was so CLOSE!

Annie wants to scream. To cry. To beg. But she can’t. She collapses onto her butt. She can’t see, can’t move either of her arms or legs, can’t even react. This is it. It’s over.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…

Tears roll down her face as she feels her jaw muscles sever and drop open. She feels Eren get pulled from her mouth.

I guess… this is it, then. Fair enough.

But no killing blow comes. She hears ODM gear whirring, then growing quieter…

Then silence. They spared her life.

But… but why? I-I killed so many… whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Annie climbs out of her titan breathless and exhausted. Her ODM gear is still intact, and there ought to be horses in the woods still. All she has to do is get ahead of the scouts to where she left her horse, then she can sell her story. They’ll likely regroup and count the casualties before heading out, so it should be easy enough.

The casualties. Each and every one of them a total waste of a life, taken for what? For nothing. Maybe she could’ve justified it if she’d succeeded, gotten the founder to Zeke, ended all of this… but no. She wipes away her tears as she activates her ODM gear and heads back into the woods to where she’d seen the abandoned horses.

I am a monster after all.