Chapter Text
You can never really be sure when it’s morning Underground, but Levi has an instinct for it. The air smells different in the morning. Warmer, like someone Above has been kind enough to toss a burning log down the gutter. Next to Levi, the sheets have gone cool, and he can hear Furlan in the next room. It smells like he’s cooking eggs. Kenny must have been Above. They never have eggs.
Levi rolls off their shared mattress and follows the smell to the kitchen. Furlan has his back to him, and he’s beating their dented frying pan with a spatula. Levi has warned him that it’ll chip if he keeps doing it, but Furlan gets into tempers when he cooks. Like the food is offending him by tasting like shit. Levi’s feet creak on the floorboards and Furlan flinches, twisting around.
“Morning,” Levi mumbles. “Hope those are edible.”
Furlan doesn’t move. His face has gone white and the spatula is shaking in his grip. “Who the hell are you?”
Unease creeps up Levi’s spine, like the claws of an insect. “What are you on about? It’s me, idiot. It’s Levi.”
“I don’t know a Levi.” Furlan is moving towards the knife. Levi can see it on the chopping board, right next to the bruised tomatoes. “I don’t know you. What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“You—you know me.” Levi wants to sound assured, but it comes out as a plea. “It’s me, you damn idiot. It’s Levi. Ackerman. We’re friends, for fuck’s sake. We’ve lived together for years. You know me. You do.”
“I don’t know a goddamn Levi Ackerman!” Furlan points the knife at him. Behind him, the eggs are burning. “I want you out of my house.”
“You know me,” Levi says in a terribly small voice. “We know each other. We’re best friends—”
“Get the fuck out!” Furlan shrieks, and his warm blue eyes have gone pale, like icicles, like lilac gems. They cut Levi’s flesh, tear open his head and pluck away his memories, scraping his mind out like a watermelon. Levi crumples as Furlan descends on him with the knife, ready to carve him open.
Waking up from a nightmare is like plummeting towards the ground after climbing the tallest branches of a tree. The air is knocked from Levi’s lungs, and he has to take a few deep breaths to reorient himself. His sheets are twisted around his legs, and his shirt is sticking to his back, sweaty and filthy. Through the gloom of his bedroom, he can see his old drawings on the ceiling. It was supposed to be an image of him gutting Lord Reiss with a knife, but art was never his strength, so it looks a little like a snowman fighting a Titan with a stick. What Levi imagines a Titan looks like, anyway. Like Lord Reiss. Ugly. Cruel.
He sits up in bed and peels off his shirt. The wind drifts in through the open window and cools his skin. Even in winter, he keeps it open. When he first came Above, he used to wonder why anyone here kept their windows closed. If you want still, stale air and sunless rooms, you can live Below. It’s too early for sunlight now; the Reiss estate is just shifting from indigo to grey. The sun will be up soon. Maybe it’s already up beyond the Walls.
It still smells of eggs. Edith must be making breakfast downstairs. After washing, Levi finds her in the kitchen, her grey hair coming loose from its tie as she works over the stove. Honestly, he should have known it was a nightmare. Eggs, Underground?
“Good morning, Mr. Ackerman,” Edith greets. “I’ve put a plate out for you. You’d best eat before your eggs go cold.”
Levi sits next to the window. He can smell the rose bushes outside, still heavy with dew. He used to like the smell of roses, when he first came here. Now they remind him of the perfume and banquets and locking himself in his room after screaming matches over dinner. Roses make his nose burn.
He eats his eggs on toast and thanks Edith when she brings him a cup of tea. She always makes it exactly right. It’s strange that, through all the erasing, she never forgets how he likes his tea. That of everything, it’s tea. Not reading him novels before bed, or walking him to school, or picking him up from school when the teachers got sick of him, or showing him how to use all the cutlery. She used to forget his name, sometimes, but it’s been a while since Frieda has taken her memories.
Before Edith, there was Alana. She liked to watch Levi climb the trees on the estate, and laughed when he helped her carry things a thirteen year old boy should not have been able to carry. And then one morning, she didn’t come to work, and Levi found out from the other servants that she’d been killed in a terrible accident near Mitras. Frieda cried, he remembers, and when they got Edith, Uri decided there were better ways to keep the servants from knowing too much about Levi.
The energetic bounce of feet on the stairs turns the toast bitter in Levi’s mouth. Frieda enters the kitchen, and although the sun is only just peering over the Wall, she’s already smiling. “Good morning, Edith, Levi.” The saccharine greeting raises the hairs on Levi’s neck.
“My Lady, your breakfast is ready.” Edith’s beam could light a cave. She adores Frieda. “What a lovely dress you have on. Is it for someone special?”
Frieda laughs, the sundress fluttering around her ankles as she sits down next to Levi. “Oh hardly, Edith, please. I’m only visiting the farm and then going to the market to pick up a few things for our dinner guests tonight. You haven’t forgotten, have you Levi?”
Levi does not smile back at her. “No.”
“Can I get you anything while I’m there?” she asks. “Those tea leaves you love so dearly, maybe. Or a new neckpiece for our next gala?”
“No. I don’t want anything.”
Frieda’s cheer only wavers a little. Levi finds her pale eyes worse when she smiles. He sometimes wishes she’d do less of it. “And do you have anything on for today?” she asks him as she cuts into her toast.
“Nope.”
Edith is washing dishes at the sink, but Levi can see the discomfort in her stiff shoulders. She doesn’t like it when Levi is rude to Frieda. She scolds him for it in private sometimes. She’s such a lovely young lady, Mr. Ackerman! I can’t understand why you are so unkind. Levi doesn’t resent her for it the way he used to—she can’t possibly know what has been taken from her. How Frieda has worn away her mind.
“You look a little tired, Levi,” Frieda says, and she touches his hand, like she’s soothing a child. “Is everything all right? Do we need to speak to the physician about getting you more poppy milk?”
Levi snatches his hand away. “No. I’m fine.”
Frieda sags, and seems to give up. “Has my father come through this morning, Edith?”
“Yes, my Lady, he left before dawn. He had business in Mitras, he said.”
“Oh? What sort of business?”
“He didn’t say, but he seemed quite hurried.”
When Frieda frowns, it is never genuine enough. As if she has constructed the frown very carefully so as to appear concerned and presentable at the same time. When you frown, you should look angry, Levi thinks, but anger is too beneath Frieda. “No matter,” she says. “I’ll speak to him later this afternoon. And Levi, you really must attend dinner tonight. Father was insistent.”
“I heard.” Levi gets up and takes his dishes over to the sink. It makes Edith squirm when he washes his own dishes, but she steps back, sensing his mood. He plucks an apple from the fruit bowl and opens the door.
“Hold on, where are you going?” Frieda asks.
“Didn’t realise it was your business.”
“I’m only asking,” she mutters.
“Headquarters,” Levi answers flatly. “For my report.” It’s a white lie. The report is a formality designed by Lord Reiss so that his position in the Military Police doesn’t look like a complete sham. And he never does it anyway. What’s he going to report, really? How well Dirk and Abel are doing on their spelling tests? Whether Florian can draw a horse yet?
“Oh. Well, it’s a little brisk out, so don’t forget your coat!” Frieda calls. “And be back on time for dinner!”
It’s about two hours to Headquarters on Peach. She’s slower than the other horses, but she’s the only one who isn’t a noble snob, so Levi won’t ride any of the others. Lord Reiss says he’s made her fat by feeding her too many apples, so Levi has started sneaking them to her when he goes out. He strokes her mane and lets her eat out of his hand. She lumbers down the road out of the estate, only breaking into a trot when Levi gives her sides a very firm squeeze.
The sun glints over the Wall, sparkling through the dew on the grass. Levi enjoys the smell. He wonders if the grass smells the same in Rose, and Maria, and beyond Maria. He’ll have to ask Erwin when he sees him tonight. He thinks he might start writing down his questions, because he always forgets them. He wants to know about the size of the trees, and the mountains, and what the water is like. Erwin has said it tastes cleaner, sweeter. Water untouched by humanity.
He makes it to Military Police Headquarters by the time the sun has climbed above the Wall and the sky is blue. He greets no one on his way in. No one here likes him anyway. They don’t understand why he shares their insignia when he hasn’t done half the work they have to earn it. He doesn’t understand either, frankly.
Captain Caven’s office door is closed when he arrives, and he huffs, resting against the wall while he waits. He can hear voices inside; the low murmur people use when there’s bad news. Two cadets walk past him and avoid his eye, scurrying along quickly. Maybe people have been talking about him around here again. Last time, it was because he split open one of the dummies when he came down to train.
Caven’s office door opens and a young soldier hurries out, flinching when he sees Levi. Just a messenger. Nothing too serious, then. Levi saunters inside and Caven glances up from her desk. “Ackerman, good morning. I wasn’t expecting you today.”
Levi closes the door behind him and slumps into the chair opposite her. Officially, he’s part of her squad, but that’s only on paper. He’s in here once a month at most. She has a cosy office, with a fireplace and lots of space for extra furniture and bookshelves. Captain’s privileges. Levi sometimes wonders if Erwin’s office looks like this, down at Survey Corps HQ. Probably not. The Survey Corps aren’t handed the sort of money the MP is.
“What was that about?” Levi asks. “The messenger.”
Caven puts her pen down. “You look tired. Still dreaming? You should ask a physician for more poppy milk.”
Levi pulls a face. He can see the top line of the report beneath her folded hands. “A murder?”
Her face doesn’t change. “Lord Strauss was found with his throat slit last night,” she says. “Can I offer you some tea?”
“Where was he found?”
“In his bed.”
Levi peers over her desk to try and get a better look at the report and she closes it, filing it away in her desk. “Who did it?” he asks.
“We don’t know. Why the interest?”
Levi shrugs. “Not every day a noble asshole is found dead in their own home.”
“No.” She writes while she speaks to him, as if to ensure he knows how unimportant his disruption is to her. “If it were up to you, I imagine they would die a lot more often.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t deny it. “So do you have my papers for me?”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re here.”
“Why else would I be here?” Levi scoffs. “You have them or not?”
“Relax, brat. You know which shelf it is.”
He kicks his chair back, irritated, and sifts through the folders behind her desk. She’s organised, at least, and he finds it under Wall Passes and Ehrmich. At this point, he knows how to fill out a gate pass himself. “Need you to sign it,” he says, tossing it onto her desk when he’s done.
“You know how to forge my signature by now, don’t you?” she replies, pushing it out of the way.
He grits his teeth and snatches it back, bending down to scribble it on the line while she watches. “Would’ve taken you ten seconds,” he says.
“And it took you five.” She regards the dates on the pass. “A whole month into Ehrmich now? Are you ever going to tell me what you’re up to?”
“I don’t ask about your business, do I?” He folds the papers carefully and tucks them into his breast pocket.
“Yes, but I’m putting my neck on the line for you,” she says. “If you’re caught, I won’t cover for you, remember?”
“Neck on the line,” Levi scoffs. “Like this is the worst of your crimes.” He gets up, then catches the whiff of cigarettes as the wind slips in through the window. “You been smoking again?”
“Oh? Little lordling? Is smoking the worst of my crimes now?” she mocks.
“No, it’s just filthy.” Levi says. “And I’m not a lordling,” he adds, childishly.
“Right. Just a lordling babysitter. How are the Reiss brats treating you? I hope it’s worth the paycheck we give you.”
“Yeah, it’s bloody fantastic. How much did Reiss add to your paycheck this month to get the MP to keep me on their books?”
Her lips purse, and she picks up her pen again. “Have a nice day, Levi.”
When Levi gets back to the estate, Florian is in the foyer, dressed in her school uniform with her blonde hair pulled into two very lopsided pigtails. Her face lights up when she sees him, and she dashes across the hall to throw her arms around his waist. “Levi! Where did you go? You didn’t have breakfast with us.” Her head comes up to his chest now, and she only turned nine a few weeks ago. Levi gives it another couple of years and she’ll be taller than him, just like her two eldest siblings.
“Why aren’t you at school yet?” he asks, peeling her off him. “And who did your hair? It looks like—” He holds the insult while he comes up with something less crass. “It looks silly.”
“Dirk did it.” She grins, like she’s proud of how ridiculous it is. “And Mama said I need to wait for you to get home. You’re supposed to take us to school.”
“Oh?”
“Is he finally back?” Levi hears the click of Heidi Reiss’ footsteps on the marble staircase just moments before he smells her sharp floral perfume. She glides down the stairs, her hair pulled back so tightly, it almost smooths the frown lines from her forehead. “Where were you, boy?” she barks at him. “I need you to get the children to school today. I’m stretched too thin with the Bridges’ coming for dinner tonight, and it isn’t safe for them to go all the way alone.”
It’s about twenty minutes by carriage, the greatest risk probably being a bruised tailbone from going over the bumpy road too quickly.
“I was at Headquarters,” Levi says. “I had to hand in my report.”
“You’re lying to me,” Lady Reiss says, distractedly fussing over Florian’s hair. “I know you don’t do your reports. The children will have missed their first lessons already, so hurry along now—oh, and my husband will see you in his office when you return.”
Levi sits in the back of the carriage with the children and Florian shows him the pictures she drew over the weekend. “They’re for art class,” she explains. “We had to pick a Wall and draw a person to defend it. This is Princess Rose. She has wings and she can fly over all the Walls.”
“Why does she have flowers on her head?” Levi asks.
“That’s her crown.”
“Oh. Well, why does she have a sword?”
“Because!” Florian looks exasperated, and straightens the drawing, preparing to explain. “She’s strong. You have to be strong to defend the Walls, don’t you? And she’s so strong she can—she can carry ten horses on her back. Like you!”
“I can’t do that,” Levi says.
“How many horses can you carry, Levi?” Dirk asks, his mouth falling open.
Abel rolls her eyes. “He can’t carry any horses, stupid. He’s too small.”
“He’s not that small,” Dirk mumbles. He’s barely Florian’s height, and he’s four years older than she is.
“Levi can carry Peach!” Florian declares. “I’ve seen him. And she’s really fat.”
“You haven’t seen me do that,” Levi says. “Don’t make things up.”
After that, Florian sulks and Dirk gets into an argument with Abel about how tall he’s going to grow. The carriage rolls to a stop outside the school and Levi ushers the children out. Abel hesitates. “Levi, why did Mother have you take us to school today? Is it because of what happened to Lord Strauss?”
“How did you hear about that?” Levi doesn’t think it’s the sort of thing her mother would tell her.
“It was in the newspaper. I read it before giving it to Father.”
You shouldn’t be reading those sorts of things, her mother might say, but Levi doesn’t see any point in lying. She’s twelve. Old enough to join the cadets—though trying to picture any of the Reiss kids in a military uniform is sort of absurd. “Yeah. He died. But it’s fine—I mean, uh.” Levi hesitates when her big blue eyes go round. “It’s not fine. But it won’t happen to you. So you don’t have to worry.”
Abel does not look reassured, but she nods to herself, like she’s trying to be mature about it. “Well if someone tries to hurt us, we have you looking after us. And you’re strong.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty strong.”
“And you can fight. Can’t you?”
“Yeah, I know how to fight.”
Behind her, Dirk is trying to measure his height against Florian’s by standing on his toes. “If Florian gets scared, will you let her sleep in your bed?” Abel asks suddenly. “She, uh, she sometimes cries at night and it gets annoying. I think she’d feel better if she was with you.”
“Um, yeah sure.” Levi can’t look Abel in the eye. He remembers when Frieda’s eyes looked like hers, when he took her to school and told her bedtime stories. “Come on, you’re already late for school. Get your brother and sister to class.”
Lady Reiss is in the kitchen when Levi returns. He can hear her berating Edith for the colour of the napkins, so he slips past the dining room silently, unwilling to step into her war path. The door to Lord Reiss’ office is closed, and Levi knocks once before entering. Reiss glances up briefly before returning to his letters, stamping the family crest into each of them before placing them onto the stack.
There’s a fire crackling in the hearth, and fresh roses on the mantelpiece. Probably to mask the scent of opium, Levi guesses, though it isn’t helping. He slumps into the armchair in front of Reiss’ desk and throws his feet over the side. “Lord Strauss was found dead this morning, did you know?”
“Yes, I heard.” Lord Reiss doesn’t look up.
“You two didn’t get along, did you?”
“Are you implying something, Levi?”
“Just making an observation.”
There’s a crease between Reiss’ eyebrows now, but he keeps writing, ignoring Levi. His face is always pinched, like he disapproves and wants everyone to be aware of it. He doesn’t have the same soft, kind features his brother had. Uri used to smile at Levi. Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen Rod smile.
“Your wife still thinks I’m your kid, did you know?” Levi probes. “Probably why she hates me so much.”
“She’s wrong,” Lord Reiss says shortly.
“I know.” Levi never properly considered whether Lord Reiss might be his father until Erwin brought it up. Now he catches himself looking for resemblances in the stout man’s face. Their hair is a similar colour, and they’re around the same height. But they don’t really look alike. Levi looks like his mother, Kenny used to say.
“You asked me to come here, are you just gonna make me sit around all day?” Levi asks, growing impatient.
With a sigh, Reiss puts down his pen. “Mind your tone with me, Levi. I asked you to see me to remind you that Lord Bridges and his daughter will be visiting tonight.”
“I know. Everyone keeps telling me.”
“They are anticipating your attendance.”
“So tell them I can’t go.”
Lord Reiss folds his hands, fighting for patience. “You are in no position to make that request.”
“All right, I have a better idea. Just get Frieda to make them forget I exist.”
Reiss sighs like he’s trying not to expend enough breath to suggest he cares. “Do not be childish, Levi.”
“Well why do you care if I’m there? I’ll—I’ll just be a nuisance. I’m not good with polite stuff.”
“Yes, we can agree on that.” Lord Reiss rises to pour water from the pitcher on the windowsill. He always keeps the curtains drawn in here, the windows tightly shut. Like he enjoys suffocating. “It’s a matter of etiquette. And it will be good practice for you.”
Levi’s stomach drops. “Practice for what?”
Reiss pauses to sip his water, then sits, gets a cigar from the box, lights it slowly, as if he thinks himself important enough to waste Levi’s time. Well, Levi knows he does. “Your uncle,” he begins, then hesitates, waiting for Levi’s reaction. Levi offers him none, and so, he continues, “You are aware of the duties he had to this family. The loyalty he offered us.”
“Symbolic crap,” Levi dismisses. “Same shit as I’m doing now.” He knows it wasn’t—that there were other things Kenny did that weren’t spoken about. Things Levi stopped asking about when Kenny got pissed at him.
Lord Reiss is beginning to look tired. Perhaps Levi has been successful in wearing down his tolerance for him. “Part of that duty is appearing publicly with us. It is symbolic, in a sense—a demonstration of your loyalty to our family.”
“Pretty sure everyone already thinks I’m your dog.”
“A dog must be trained,” Reiss says coolly. “And when it is disobedient—punished.”
The wooden arms of Levi’s chair creak under his grip. He could splinter them if he wanted to, maybe stick a piece of it in Reiss’ eye—in Frieda’s. “Punished,” he repeats. “You kick a dog to punish it.”
“No, Levi. To punish a dog, you take something away from it.”
Levi waits for the sun to fall behind the Wall before he climbs out of his bedroom window. He can hear Lord Bridges downstairs, his voice booming like a man who’s had too much wine. “And what of this nasty business with poor old Hugo Strauss? Quite unsettling, isn’t it? Knowing that such an awful thing can happen to a man in the sanctuary of his own home. One of those Underground thugs he had dealings with, I imagine…”
Levi scales the side of the building. It’s a long drop into the bushes below, and dirt flakes off and gets beneath his nails as he clings on. He uses the drainpipe to lower himself down before making the final drop onto the grass. He spent most of his teenage years climbing out that window. There are still screws embedded into the window frame from the time Lord Reiss tried putting bars over the window. He gave up after the second time Levi pried them off.
Levi swings his satchel over the back of Peach’s saddle before taking off, guiding her into a steady canter. He knows it’ll make her grumpy, doing two trips in one day. He’ll have to reward her with extra apples later.
The ride to Ehrmich is just under an hour. When the gate is in sight, Levi pulls his cloak up. “What’s your business in Ehrmich tonight, lad?” asks the officer on duty. He has heavy bags under his eyes, and doesn’t look particularly interested in what Levi’s answer will be.
“Visiting my mother,” Levi tells him, handing over his papers.
The guard scans them too quickly to have actually read them before passing them back. “And when do you expect to return?”
“In a few hours.”
“Short visit? Well you take care of your mother, son. Go on through.”
Levi has heard it’s more difficult getting in on the other side. Moving from Rose to Sina, Maria to Rose—officials are more concerned with people flocking in than out.
Peach’s hooves clop against the stone road, and she grunts. She doesn’t like the cities much, and when he tethers her at the stable, she nudges him with her nose. “Sorry, I’ll see if Erwin has any apples before I leave,” he tells her.
It’s well past sundown now, and people are retreating back into their homes, closing down their stores for the night, disappearing into taverns. Levi follows the canal until he comes to the familiar row of aspen trees with their dark red leaves and thin white trunks. It smells like smoke down this way, but the comforting kind, like warm log fires and chimneys. The sort that weren’t allowed Underground, unless you wanted to choke.
Erwin’s apartment is a narrow, two-storey townhouse built with red bricks. It’s drab, frankly, and it makes Levi feel like a snob to be thinking of a perfectly good home as drab, but Erwin really doesn’t take care of it. He never uses it, he says, which is a poor excuse in Levi’s opinion. The patch of grass in front is overgrown, spilling onto the street, and Levi can see dust gathering on the windowsills. There’s a light on through the window. Erwin is here already. Levi only has to knock once before he answers.
Erwin is wearing an apron. It’s dim this late into the evening, so Levi has to squint to make sure he hasn’t misseen. “Why are you wearing that?”
“I’m cooking,” Erwin tells him. Levi smells it now—eggs, again. “Would you like to come in?”
“You look fucking ridiculous.” Levi elbows past him. Erwin must have dusted before he arrived, because the air smells clean for a change. Maybe he took Levi’s complaints to heart last time. “Why are you cooking? And why are you wearing that thing?”
“Well, it’s to stop food from getting onto my clothes,” Erwin explains. “Are you hungry?” He hurries past Levi to flip the over-toasted omelette out of the frying pan.
“Omelettes for dinner,” Levi remarks distastefully.
“Omelettes are versatile,” Erwin tells him. “I think it would be wasteful to restrict them to breakfast only.”
“Tch. What’s in them?”
“Spring onions, tomatoes, ham…”
“I don’t eat meat.”
“I see. I didn’t know.”
Levi waves him off. “It’s fine. I’m here to fuck you, not have dinner with you.”
Erwin unties his apron and folds it over the back of a chair. “Well, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“What? Why not?”
“I left at dawn.”
Levi’s mouth falls open, the words leaving him for a moment. “At dawn?”
“Before dawn, in fact. The trip can be made in a day, if you don’t rest.”
“Oh.” Erwin has been riding all day to be here, and Levi has been—running errands for nobles. Avoiding chores. Complaining about babysitting children. “Well… eat your omelette then. Before it goes cold. I’ll go upstairs and prepare myself.”
“You could sit with me,” Erwin suggests, already setting his plate down. The table is small, with room enough only for two. And—if Levi were to sit down, it would be intimate.
“You want me to sit?” he asks, but it’s uncomfortable now. He’s been standing too long, and Erwin has already begun to eat.
“Yes, Levi. Sit.”
Levi does, heavily. The scrape of his chair draws attention to the silence between them, the awkwardness. He folds his hands in his lap, fidgets, and says nothing. He can still hear the noise from the street outside, a carriage rolling by, a woman’s drunken laugh. He wonders if Lord Reiss is busy excusing his absence to the Bridges’, or if he’s relieved he doesn’t have to put up with Levi for the night.
“Did you have a pleasant day?” Erwin asks. He’s wolfing down his omelette.
“Not really.”
“It’s my birthday today. Did you know?”
“No.” He watches Erwin get up to fill a glass with water, then several moments too late, he adds, “Happy birthday.”
“It hasn’t been. I don’t really celebrate it.”
“Oh.”
Erwin puts a glass of water in front of Levi before he sits back down. “When is your birthday, Levi?”
Levi drinks. The water is too warm. “Dunno. December, I think.” That’s what Uri decided anyway, after Levi came Above. “Never saw the point in birthdays.”
“They’re an anniversary,” Erwin says. “So that you remember.”
“Yeah but, why d’you need to remember? It’s just age, it’s—” Levi shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
Erwin brushes his hair off his forehead. It’s normally neater, Levi realises. It must get that way when he spends the day riding. “I suppose age is not so important, when you consider it. But humans like to mark such things. As if living is an achievement. Does that make sense?”
Sometimes, when Erwin talks, Levi feels as if he is being belittled for not understanding. “Well I know what age is,” he says caustically.
“Ah. Well, I never meant to imply you didn’t.”
“So how old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“Thirty? Old for a Scout.”
Levi feels guilty for the quip when Erwin’s expression hardens. He wishes the topic of birthdays had never been brought up. “I suppose it is.” Erwin wipes his mouth clean with a napkin and finishes his water. “Why don’t you go upstairs and prepare yourself? I’ll be with you once I’ve cleaned up.”
“Yeah.” Levi gets up, grateful for the dismissal. “That means you’re fucking me tonight, right?”
“Yes. I’d like to. Do you have any objections?”
“Nah,” Levi says. “Only reason I bothered coming.”
He prepares himself in Erwin’s bathroom. It’s clean, the sink and tub scrubbed to shine and the tiles polished. Erwin must have arrived here early to get all this done. Maybe that’s why he left at dawn. Or does he always leave at dawn to come here? It occurs to Levi that he’s never asked.
Erwin is sitting on the bed when Levi emerges from the bathroom. He’s down to his socks and undershirt, his belt and cardigan hanging over the armchair next to the window. He’s pulled the curtains shut against the early moonlight, but there’s a lantern burning on the desk.
“You cleaned up,” Levi says, unbuttoning his shirt. “Before I got here.”
“That sounds like an accusation.”
“What? It’s not,” Levi retorts, then realises Erwin is teasing him. “Well I was just noticing. Because this place is usually fucking filthy.”
“Yes, you have mentioned.” Erwin’s eyes follow Levi’s fingers while he undoes his buttons, and it makes Levi fumble. “Can I remove your clothes for you, Levi? You’re taking too long.”
“Because you’re damn staring.”
“I’m appreciating.” Erwin stands up and gets the rest of the buttons loose for him. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, removing Levi’s trousers, “once a fortnight isn’t enough. I’d like to see you more often.” His eyes are fixed on Levi’s hips, and in the candlelight, they look bluer, his nose longer. “What do you think?”
Once a fortnight is risky enough as is. Lord Reiss has questioned him about his whereabouts before, but the visits are infrequent enough that he hasn’t noticed the pattern, thus far. “Can’t,” Levi answers. “Can you hurry?”
Erwin’s hands are on his waist. They’re warm, maybe from the dishwater, or from gripping his reins all day. “You have a scar here,” he says, brushing Levi’s left shoulder, where the flesh is pink and raised. “What’s it from?”
It’s from a knife, but Levi isn’t in the mood to talk about that sort of thing. “What’s it to you?” he says impatiently, squirming away. “We fucking or what?”
“I’m only curious. I have more scars than you.” Erwin’s fingertips float across Levi’s stomach, to his hips, his back. His calluses are rough and hardened. He’s the only man Levi has been with who has such rough fingers. “You’re so clean, Levi. So smooth. Your skin is—it’s like cream.”
“Like cream?” Levi sneers. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He hasn’t thought about what Erwin’s skin reminds him of. It just makes him think of—of sex. Of sweat and fucking.
“It is,” Erwin says. “I like cream. It’s sweet and smooth. It melts on the tongue.” He kisses Levi’s shoulder, then his throat, and the tip of his tongue makes Levi’s skin prickle. He writhes and twists away, over-stimulated.
“This doesn’t feel like fucking. Didn’t you come here to put your cock in me?”
Erwin lets out a quiet breath that stirs the hair on top of Levi’s head. “I did. Let me indulge first, won’t you? Once a fortnight, Levi. That’s all I get. It isn’t enough. It’s nothing. Sit down on the bed, please.”
There’s a thickness in Levi’s throat, like he’s swallowed his tongue. He sits, at Erwin’s command, and he’s level with his crotch now. He can see Erwin’s erection through his underwear, and wonders if Erwin means for him to suck it. When he reaches for it, Erwin catches him by the wrist, kissing the inside of his palm. “No, lie back,” he says, crouching to pull down Levi’s underwear.
Levi is completely naked now. It’s a new thing with Erwin—being naked. Levi fucked men before Erwin, but it was hasty most of the time, half-clothed, unerotic. Erwin might say, it is more sensual this way, and grudgingly, Levi would agree. It is different having Erwin’s skin pressed right against his, when they’re fucking. It’s—well, it’s intimate.
“You cleaned the sheets too,” Levi says. Erwin has his mouth around his nipple, and Levi’s hips twitch when he uses his teeth.
“You like things clean,” Erwin says into his skin.
“Yeah.” The sheets smell of cheap detergent, in truth. The type they use in the barracks at Headquarters. Levi doesn’t mind so much. They’re clean. Erwin has cleaned them for him.
Erwin smells faintly of tobacco, but mostly like horses. Like leather. He has been riding all day. Levi wonders if he’s sore—whether he might let Levi dig his fingers into his muscles while he fucks him. “I could fuck you next time,” Levi says suddenly, and Erwin stops to look at him from the bottom of his hips.
“Oh?”
“Ah, I mean—” Levi stumbles over his words, trying to explain the outburst. “You would have to ride back, and you would—” His face is growing hot, and it is not helped by the amused tick of Erwin’s mouth.
“You mean to say I would feel it, riding back.”
“Yes.”
“And do you feel it? After I’ve been inside you.” Erwin shifts and gets his arms under Levi, pulling him up so that he’s caught in them, like a cradle.
“Well yes.” Levi wriggles in his arms, feeling diminutive. “Of course I feel it. You have a big fucking cock.”
“I see,” Erwin says, as if he wasn’t aware. Levi can feel it against his thigh. “And you like how that feels?” His hand is on Levi’s ass, and Levi thinks, sometimes, that he enjoys feeling big like this—feeling strong.
“Sure,” Levi says, stretching back, fumbling for the oil. The jar is half empty already. “We’ve used a lot,” he remarks.
“Yes, well it takes a lot when you’re receiving—to fit me in.” When Erwin talks about it, he gets this warm, self-satisfied look on his face. He pops the cork out of the oil, then hesitates. “Can I put my tongue in you first?”
“God—why? Why do you always want to do that?” Levi looks past Erwin’s shoulder, at the shadows the candlelight casts across the ceiling.
“I like it,” Erwin says. “I like feeling how soft you are inside. I know you like it too. I can tell by the way—the way you sound when I do it.” And he looks smug again.
“Fine, Erwin,” Levi snaps, without real harshness. “Fine, you can do it.” He has to brace himself for it. He knows Erwin can sense the tension in his body, because he rubs Levi’s hips like he means to soothe him. Levi wraps his legs around Erwin’s shoulders, fists clenched around the sheets.
“Easy,” Erwin murmurs into the flesh of his inner thigh. Levi’s cock is leaking already, embarrassingly. He likes it when Erwin sucks his cock, but when Erwin does this, it—well, it makes Levi harder, he’s noticed.
Erwin is slow, circling the tight rim of muscle at Levi’s entrance, urging him to relax. Levi keeps his eyes shut. He likes watching when Erwin puts his cock in his mouth, but when he does this it’s more— more intimate, he decides. Seeing Erwin’s blonde head between his legs, feeling the soft heat of his tongue inside him. It embarrasses him a little.
“Oh.” Levi sighs when Erwin pushes inside. He doesn’t know how long Erwin’s tongue is, but it feels like it reaches deeper than it should. Or maybe it’s just that—it should not be there at all. It is the depravity of it. Erwin buries his face into Levi’s flesh, kneading with his rough fingers like he’s trying to squeeze the tension out.
Levi has the urge to open his eyes, sometimes, but he represses it. This is better. This is all sensation; Erwin’s warm hands, his clever tongue, the wet sounds he makes, the sighs. “You’re—damn filthy,” Levi tells him, squeezing his thighs around Erwin’s head. It feeds Erwin’s enthusiasm, because he moans, muffled in Levi’s flesh. Levi locks his ankles around Erwin’s shoulders, breathing through his mouth. He can feel the moisture from his cock dripping onto his stomach.
He isn’t expecting it when Erwin pushes a finger in next to his tongue, and his breath hitches embarrassingly. It’s so wet down there now, it’s dripping out of Levi. Erwin is sloppy, he eats like a wild animal. Levi twists his fingers into Erwin’s hair, and when Erwin slips in a second finger, Levi has to bite down on his lip to keep himself silent.
He can tell now that Erwin is trying to take him off guard, like it’s a game, and his prize is a moan, or a gasp. It’s in Levi’s nature to be stubborn, but Erwin is clever, and he has clever fingers, and when he finds that pressure point inside Levi, it pulls a whimper out of him. “Yes, Levi,” Erwin breathes into his thigh. “Moan again for me.”
“Gah—damn you. Keep putting your fingers in. Get me open for your cock.”
The first time Levi took Erwin’s cock, he wasn’t prepared for how big it would feel, even after seeing it. Erwin is just the sort of man who ought to have a big cock, Levi thinks. He’s careful and gentle and patient. He loves opening Levi up. There are plenty of men who don’t deserve to have cocks like that. Plenty who have left Levi feeling sore afterwards in an unpleasant way.
Erwin presses his oiled fingers back inside Levi and they slip in easier this time. “You’re nice and relaxed now,” he says, stroking Levi’s hip. “I bet one day I could get my whole fist in you, if we were patient enough.”
“Ugh, you’re perverted. Nothing better to think about down at Survey Corps HQ?”
“I will admit, I much prefer planning for this than planning for the Titans.”
“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with the Titans.”
Erwin’s face is warmed by the candlelight. “How do you want me to fuck you? On your back?”
“Nah. From behind.” Levi knows Erwin likes him on his back. He likes holding him and kissing him and touching his face. But Levi prefers to face away, usually. The angle is better and it is not so—well yes, not so intimate.
He turns onto all fours and faces the wall. There’s a crack in the plaster leading all the way up to the ceiling, and it’s in need of a new coat of paint. Erwin’s chest is hot against his back. Levi hears the stretch of the rubber going over his cock and the slick of more oil. Erwin kisses Levi’s spine, then the top of his head before lining himself up. He’s tall enough that Levi’s head often ends up tucked just beneath his chin.
Erwin pushes inside slowly, and now Levi is less inclined to keep quiet. The first few inches drag a groan out of him. Erwin’s huff of breath stirs the hair on top of his head. “Oh, Levi…”
“How does it feel?” Levi breathes. “Tell me.”
“Not enough—once a fortnight, it’s not enough. I need to be inside you every day. You’re so hot and wet, you open up so nicely for me.” Erwin slips out of him then guides himself back inside, just halfway. Levi might pretend that this gets easier every time, but it doesn’t. God, Erwin is big. And he likes to get close too, pressing his whole weight into Levi’s back. “How is it? Do you feel all right?” Erwin checks.
“Mm. Yeah.” The word comes from somewhere in Levi’s throat. “Good. You can go deeper.”
Erwin draws Levi right into his chest, and he’s so fucking warm. He even smells warm. There was a time once, before he brought Levi Above, when Kenny taught him how to tell if someone was rich based on the smell of their cologne. The more it makes your nose itch, the richer they are. Levi can tell, by how Erwin smells, that he is not rich. He’s not rich, because he just smells like warmth, and like grass. He smells like sweat, like a man who fucks.
“Oh, you feel good,” Erwin sighs, his face in Levi’s neck. “You’re tight. Is it okay? It’s not too much?”
“I’m not tight, you’re just—just massive. Fuck.” Levi’s fists are twisted in the sheets. He can see his knuckles going white. “It’s good, yeah. Keep moving. Hard, yeah? I like it when you do it hard.”
“I know you like it.” Erwin rolls his hips, grinding the breath out of Levi. It’s gentle, but it’s—it’s so damn overwhelming. Erwin knows just how to reach that sensitive place inside Levi. He nails it each time, until Levi melts forward, a groan slipping from his throat. “You like this too,” Erwin says. “I can tell—your cock is leaking.”
Erwin thumbs the head and Levi moans, his muscles quivering. “Fuck, keep touching me like that.”
“I’m not ready for you to come yet,” Erwin says, dragging his fingers over Levi’s lips. “Suck on my fingers now—God yes, that’s it. You have such a soft mouth.”
“Come on,” Levi mutters, pushing his hips back. “Go harder or I’ll fall asleep.”
Erwin’s laughter is muffled in Levi’s hair. “I can’t say I’d mind that. It would be one way to get you to spend the night here.”
“Yeah, you’d fuckin’ love that, wouldn’t you? We’d wake up at sunrise and fuck again and then you’d eat my ass for breakfast in the shower.”
Erwin quivers, squeezing closer, his hips moving faster. “Y-yeah? God, Levi…”
“Mm—yeah, fuck Erwin. Keep moving just like that. Hah, it’s like—it’s like you were made for me, the way you fit inside me.”
Erwin groans and his next thrust rattles the bedframe. He likes it when Levi says things like that. Levi knows Erwin would like to possess him, to own him. If Erwin were not a soldier, he would probably have a wife. And he would make breakfast for her and dote on her like a stupid, lovesick husband. Levi indulges him in these moments, sometimes, with that kind of talk. It makes him fuck better.
“Keep going, Erwin. Keep fucking me like that, I’m so fucking close—fuck, make me come. You’re doing so good, you’re making me—ah! God!”
If Erwin has neighbours, they’ll hear. The creak of the springs and the thump of the headboard are punctuated by the cries Levi doesn’t have the composure to withhold anymore. Vaguely, he thinks he sounds a bit like a whore. Maybe that’s what Erwin’s neighbours will think; that Erwin’s company tonight is the sort he’s paid for.
Erwin comes first, shuddering, grunting, and finishing deep inside Levi. Levi feels the heat of it through the rubber, and comes into Erwin’s fist, biting into the pillow.
“I’ll clean you up, don’t move,” Erwin murmurs, and Levi hisses when he slips out of him.
“Feels weird,” he mumbles, slumping into the mattress.
“What does?” Erwin asks, returning with a basin of water and a cloth.
“When you’re not in me anymore. Feels—I guess empty. Do you know?”
“Oh yes,” Erwin says, cleaning his thighs, the cleft of his ass. “Yes, I understand the feeling.”
“Nah but you don’t know like I do. You ain’t had—haven’t had—a cock as big as yours inside you.”
“Hm. No, I can’t say I have,” Erwin admits, rinsing the cloth. Levi does not feel adequately clean. He would like a hot shower, where he can scrub his skin pink and get the itch out of it. But that will have to wait until later. Until he gets back to the estate—god, he’ll have to avoid Lord Reiss too when he gets there.
“I should—” He pulls himself off the bed and starts dressing. “It’s late.”
“You’re leaving?” Erwin sounds resigned. He’s come to expect this by now, though Levi suspects there’s a part of him that always hopes he might convince Levi to stay.
“Yeah. Stuff to do.”
“I—have some books to show you,” Erwin says hastily, putting the basin of water aside. He still hasn’t dressed. Levi likes the way his body looks after sex. His skin is glistening and golden, and his cock hangs heavy between his legs. Once or twice, Levi has relinquished and fucked him again before riding back to the estate.
“What books? I don’t care about books.” It’s a throwaway statement at this point—Erwin knows Levi is intrigued. He’s already pulling back the rug and reaching into the floorboards. Those sorts of books, huh? Levi remembers asking the first time he showed him.
“You enjoy this one,” Erwin says, like he’s assuring himself. “It’s your favourite.”
“This part of your ploy to get me to join the stupid Survey Corps?”
“It might be.”
“And when are you going to stop?”
“I suspect I’ll stop once you’ve joined.” Erwin sits on the edge of the bed and leafs through the book while Levi hovers at the door, torn. “It’s the wildlife book, do you remember? The sorts of animals they have outside the Walls, supposedly.”
“If the Titans haven’t eaten them all.”
“The Titans don’t eat animals, only humans.” Erwin says it with a strange smile that he often gets when he finds something thrilling. It reminds Levi of their first encounter, the unrestrained excitement Erwin expressed when enquiring after Levi’s strength. “This one is called a giraffe. They have very long necks and flat horns, and they’re spotty.”
He lifts the book for Levi to see, and Levi scoffs. “That’s a kid’s drawing, Erwin. It’s not real.”
“If it’s not real, then why are these books banned?”
Levi doesn’t have an answer to that. He chews his tongue and fidgets. The moon is out and full. He can see it between the curtains. It must be late. “You always tell me about this shit, you know.”
“I know. You sometimes ask.”
“Do I? Well, not on purpose. I don’t care about—about animals and books and whatever else it was. I don’t remember,” he lies. He remembers the koalas, and the—the monkeys, he thinks they were called.
Erwin closes the book. “I just thought you might find it interesting.”
“Well I don’t. I need to go.”
“All right. Can I see you next week? Thursday, maybe.”
“Next week? We only do this once a fortnight. You’ve been complaining about it all night.”
Erwin nods, pulling a robe around his shoulders, finally. “There’s a mission coming up. We leave in two days.”
“Oh.” Levi twists the doorknob back and forth. “Well, sure. We can fuck when you get back. Try not to die, or whatever.”
Erwin smiles, and Levi wonders if he finds the prospect of dying funny. Does he even try to keep himself alive out there? If Levi were out there with him, he would probably have to follow him around, making sure he wasn’t getting eaten.
“I’ll try not to. Would you like me to walk you down?”
“No, I know the way,” Levi says, remembering he promised to steal an apple for Peach to eat. “See you next week, maybe.”
By the time Levi is back on the road, he has a headache. It isn’t unusual that he has a headache after seeing Erwin. It’ll be gone in a day or two.
Realistically, Levi knows he could be back in time to have tea with the Bridges’ and perhaps save himself Lord Reiss’ ire in the morning. Instead, he takes the northern road, towards Mitras. Peach gives a whinny of discontent—she knows the path. It’s a two hour ride one way, so she’s in for a long night. Levi strokes her neck. He’ll buy some more apples at the market tomorrow.
Mitras isn’t locked in by Walls—at least, not the part Levi is visiting. The staircases aren’t manned on the surface. People prefer to pass them by without acknowledging they’re there, so they’re tucked into the quiet, outskirt streets that don’t get much foot traffic. The stables here charge triple what they do in Ehrmich, but Levi pays it, filling Peach’s trough with water before leaving.
Descending the stairs Underground is like sinking underwater. Uri tried to get Levi to learn to swim once in the lake east of the estate. Levi remembers sinking to the bottom like a pebble, the space around him growing dark and silent before Kenny hauled him back to the surface. That’s what walking down this staircase feels like, except it smells ten times worse and unlike being underwater, it isn’t peaceful.
Levi pays the fee at the toll point and the guard waves him through. “Back again, eh? Got a girl down here or something?” The man’s teeth are crooked and yellow, though none are missing. That’s wealth, down here. The kind of wealth that comes from overcharging at the toll point.
“Yeah,” Levi answers. “Or something.”
He isn’t dressed to be down here. His shirt is only plain cotton, and his coat is old but they’re both clean, and he smells clean too. He smells of money. He has his knife strapped to his hip, but it’s the attention he’s worried about. It’s bad if he’s noticed. It would be worse if he was in uniform, he figures. The MPs like to think it gives them status down here, but Levi knows better. Better to be an ordinary rich asshole from Above than an MP, down here.
Furlan lives near the fringe, with the dark cavern wall behind him. It’s secluded enough to be considered the nice part of town. It smells less shitty and more mouldy, which is a luxury. There’s a group of kids sitting on the steps across the street, dressed in rags that have probably never seen a bar of soap. Levi approaches Furlan’s door and they watch him like rodents eyeing food scraps.
“Oi, mister,” one of them calls. “You some kinda pervert? What you visitin’ Izzy’s place for?”
Levi hesitates. He can hear voices through the door. “Who the hell is Izzy?”
The kids look at each other, and the eldest one grins. He doesn’t have all his adult teeth yet. Or maybe they just never grew in. “Yeah, bet you’d like to know, you sicko.”
Levi sighs and digs through his satchel, then flicks a silver piece at them. “Go buy some shoes or you’ll get an infection. And stay the fuck out of my business.”
The kids scramble through the dirt to grab the silver piece, gathering around to eye it. “You reckon it’s real?” one of them whispers.
“Nah, I ain’t seen a silver in my life. He’s havin’ us on.”
Levi turns away and knocks on the door. He feels vile, throwing money at kids the way men used to come down here to throw money at his mom—at him, even, like it was amusing to watch him gawk at the coins. He should be handing over his whole coinpurse, but that would just get them mugged by bigger, stronger people without inhibitions about killing children.
The door swings open and light floods onto the street. Furlan is smoking, and the laughter dies in his face when he sees Levi. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he whispers. There are people at the table behind him, playing cards. Two men and a girl with bright red hair. The girl shrieks and knocks her fist on the table, her drink sloshing out of the glass.
“Oi, Furlan, who is it?” one of the men calls.
“No one, just—gimme a minute.” Furlan ushers Levi down the stairs and slams the door shut behind him, pulling him around the corner into the pitch black of the alley. The only light comes from the end of his cigarette. Levi isn’t used to darkness like this anymore. He’s grown soft.
“Told you to stop coming,” Furlan mutters.
“I know. I brought your money.”
Furlan counts the coins out in his palm. “Rent’s gone up,” he says.
“Mm. All right.” Levi adds an extra couple of golds to the pile. Furlan stares at them, his throat moving, then stuffs the lot into his pocket.
“Yeah fine. Cheers. You can go now.”
“I brought you soap as well,” Levi says, taking a paper-wrapped package from his satchel. “And a bag of dates.”
“Those fruits?” Furlan asks, and Levi nods. “Sure, whatever, give them over. Anything else? I need to get back or they’re gonna wonder.”
“Who’s Izzy?” Levi asks.
Furlan’s brow creases in the dim glow of his cigarette. “The fuck is it to you? Look, I don’t know what the fuck you want from me—if you’re some sorta pervert, I figure you’ll cash in somewhere down the line. What’s it gonna be? I gotta suck you off five times for every gold piece you ever tossed at me?”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Levi says.
“Yeah, sure. I’m not an idiot, all right? I know how you rich folks think. You think we’d all break our necks and chop off our balls for a copper or two. You think it’s funny going home to your asshole friends and telling them you fucked a rat from Below. Or maybe you just think we’re charity. That’s fine. You do what you want. But don’t play games with me. I don’t like games.”
Levi nods. There isn’t any point arguing. There’s nothing to argue. “Yeah. Okay.”
“So what is it then? What’s your angle?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
Furlan scoffs and tosses his cigarette into the dirt. They’re in total darkness now. Levi can just see the whites of his eyes through the gloom. “You ever gonna tell me your name? Or are you famous Above or something? Got a reputation to look after?”
You know my name. “Nah. Just don’t feel like sharing.”
“Fine then. Stop coming back, I mean it. It’s no good you coming down here. People talk.”
Levi will be back. Furlan always tells him the same thing, but at the end of the day, he’s desperate. He’ll accept Levi’s money every time. Levi almost wishes he wouldn’t. He used to stand up for himself more, before. When Levi was still around.
Levi watches Furlan’s face as his eyes adjust to the darkness. Each time, he wonders if it’ll be different. If this will be the time Furlan remembers. If maybe, he’ll open the door and there will be a spark of recognition in his eyes. If one day, somehow, Frieda’s erasure will be undone, and he’ll remember Levi again.