#erumarie

[wraithcloud]

erumari i owe you my life

[warm-starlight]

So basicaly Erwin wrote what he himself felt but in Nile's name...

[glassesandswords]

Ease Our Burden

Summary:

Late at night, the Survey Corps veterans head to a bar after wrapping up their year-end paperwork. What happens after a few glasses of alcohol is just plain chaos.

( When I read one of Erwin's official smartpass AUs, I wondered what kind of shenanigans the scouts pulled in the bar they headed off to after work. This is a story I've been wanting to write for so long, as drunk vets live in my mind rent free. Hope you like it.)

Originally posted in Ao3  and dedicated to @someonestolemyshoes

---

It was late at night when the wooden door of the bar creaked open, the sound of raucous laughter and footsteps spilling in. The old barkeeper looked up from his counter to see the veterans of the Survey Corps entering his almost-empty establishment, headed by their commander, Erwin Smith.

He gave a quiet nod to him. Soldiers frequented this bar often, as it was the closest to the military quarters. His eyes went towards the two Military Police soldiers sipping their beers in one corner of the room. The barkeeper had planned to close for the night after the MPs left, but now that the Scouts were here, he did not mind tending to the bar a little longer. Besides, he knew Erwin well from his cadet corps days- days that felt so long ago now.

The Scouts settled down noisily around a large round table, dragging in chairs from the other empty tables to fit them all. The barkeeper recognized quite a few of them. The loud, bespectacled brunette was Hange Zoe, someone who was poked fun of by the MPs and Garrison soldiers alike on a regular basis in the bar. She was a usual topic of gossip and trash-talk, as he had seen the customers mimicking her for some laughs, as if they were trying to talk to the captured titans in the same way that one would approach a pet.

His gaze trailed to the short man next to Erwin, the infamous Captain Levi, humanity’s strongest soldier. Rumors- fueled by drinks- always spread like wildfire around the bar, and even the barkeeper himself had heard whispers of how the captain was, earlier, a thug from the underground. As for how much truth the rumor contained, he did not know.

Captain Levi sat opposite Mike Zacharias, the tall section commander who was one of Erwin’s longest comrades in the Scouts. He could not recollect the names of the four others- two men and two women- as well, although he supposed he might have seen their faces somewhere before. After all, these soldiers were the best that humanity had to offer- for going outside the walls to face the titans and exterminating them required immense internal courage. The barkeeper could never imagine him voluntarily putting himself through such an ordeal. No, he was happy here just doing his family business.

Erwin walked over to the old barkeeper and enquired about his day with gentle familiarity. The barkeeper answered in like. He remembered the times all those years ago when he’d come over there with Nile Doc, the current commander of the Military Police, to stir up some trouble in the bar and to steal looks at the pretty barmaid- Marie was her name, he believed- during the evenings after their training.

His lips involuntarily quirked up with a smile at that memory. What a rowdy bunch they were.

“What would you and your team like tonight?” he asked Erwin.

“A glass of whiskey for me,” he said and turned back to the others. “What about you all?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Levi replied, looking bored.

“I’ll have some simple lemonade,” the short blonde haired woman said.

“Can I get a mug of beer?” Hange piqued, “I’m in the mood for some beer today.”

“I’ll have whatever Section Commander Hange is having as well,” said the tall man who sat on Hange’s other side.

“Alright, two beers and one lemonade for Nanaba then,” Erwin said. “What about you Gelgar, Marlene and Mike?”

The other two grinned, “Mike’s going to choose for us.”

At that, Mike stood up and approached him. “May I check your collection out?” he asked politely in his deep voice, towering over the old barkeeper. The barkeeper craned his neck to look up at him and nodded timidly.

Mike hopped on the counter and crossed his legs to the other side with ease. He ran a finger through the array of glass bottles, gleaming in the soft yellow lighting of the bar. Keeping his face close to the bottles, he took a sniff now and then as he went through the assortment of liquors.

The barkeeper let him do his thing as he poured the beer and whiskey in their glasses and chopped up a lemon to make Nanaba’s lemonade.

“Ah… I’m relieved that we are finally here,” he heard Hange’s husky, drawn out voice from their table. “All that year-end paperwork sucked the soul out of me. To balance it out, let’s have some fun tonight, shall we?”

“I’m curious,” Marlene replied, “What do you have in mind?”

“We are going to get Erwin as drunk as possible. I wanna see what embarrassing stories spout out of his mouth.”

Erwin gave a small chuckle. “A brave quest. Good luck with that.”

“You don’t need to get Erwin drunk to embarrass himself,” Levi drawled. “Just place him in the midst of the younger cadets and ask him to make small talk. You’ll watch him flounder like a fish out of water.”

“There sure is a generational gap, but I’m not that old, Levi.”

“Bullshit. You scared away my entire squad that day when you tried to be friendly with them.”

“I was just trying out a change in approach rather than my usual authoritative tone. It is important to connect with the younger-”

“Right, right, I get it. But you should know you suck at that. Just keep doing what you do and you’ll be fine.”

Another smile stemmed from Erwin. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

The barkeeper walked over to their table with the tray of drinks in his hand, as all his waiters had left for home already. He set the glasses and mugs in front of them.

“You know what would be a great idea?” Hange’s voice filled the room again. “Let’s have a drinking contest between Moblit and Gelgar. I want to see which one of you two is the fastest to chug three mugs of beer in one go.”

“I place my bets on Gelgar,” Nanaba quipped.

“Gelgar is obviously going to win, this guy is a straight-up drunkard if I’ve ever seen one,” Marlene chuckled. Gelgar, despite his weak protests, seemed quite confident in himself and eager to take part. Moblit, on the other hand, looked resigned- like he was forcibly dragged into yet another messy situation he’d rather not be in, but had no choice but to appease his superiors by participating.

Hange put an aggressive arm around Moblit’s shoulder. “You all underestimate Moblit’s drinking capacity,” she chided, “I’d bet my life on him winning this contest.”

“You do realize his chronic alcoholism stems from your recklessness, right?” Levi asked dryly.

Hange ignored him. “Get the beers rolling!” she signaled the barkeeper with her hand. “Let’s see who downs them the fastest!”

As the others banged their fists on the wooden table yelling chug chug chug, egging the two of them on as they gulped down the mugs of foaming beer, Mike and Erwin checked out the wine selection. Even though the barkeeper was used to their shenanigans, he was still weirded out by seeing Mike sniff at each bottle and give his smirk rating. Apparently, the wider the smirk, the better the liquor.

This went on for a while till Mike’s nose finally rested on an expensive bottle of plum wine. He gave the widest smirk he could muster and nodded his shaggy head at Erwin. The commander took the bottle from him and examined it.

“What’s this one?”

“The Reeves company’s finest plum wine, sir. I’ll have to warn you that it’s very strong. And a little on the pricier side.”

A commotion from the table made them look back at Hange who let out a delighted, victorious cheer, jumping and punching her fist in the air as Nanaba and Marlene rolled their heads, moaning in disappointment. “Pay up,” Hange declared, as the other two pulled out their wallets amidst the grumbles.

“We’ll have this then,” Erwin turned towards Mike. “I’ll pay. Consider this a thank you gift from my end. You have all done so much to help me, so I wish to treat you all to something good tonight.”

Mike crossed the bar counter to the other side and slapped a broad hand on Erwin’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, his lips forming a smile that was way more heartfelt than one of his usual smirks. “Let’s go share this with everyone.”

There were whoops from the rest of the table as Erwin and Mike brought over the wine and uncorked it. Glasses, the barkeeper remembered, I have to take some glasses over and-

He stopped, his hand paused over the tray as he saw Mike chug down the wine straight from the bottle. Swiping the back of his palm over his mouth, he passed the bottle on to Hange, who took a deep gulp and handed it over to Levi.

The barkeeper watched in disbelief at the sheer disrespect towards the expensive wine as it got passed on to Erwin, who drank it in the same way. Apparently, he wasn’t the only flabbergasted one, as the two MPs on the other side of the room went quiet, their expressions scrunched as they watched all the veteran Scouts drink from the same bottle without a care in the world.

He did not have enough time to dwell on that, though, as Hange stalked over to the counter, looking slightly dazed. “That was good,” she said as she sat on a stool in front of him, “A little stronger than I expected, but I’m not complaining.” She rested her elbows on the countertop and leaned forward towards the barkeeper as if she were about to share a secret, her breath smelling strongly of the plum wine as she whispered, “Moblit’s birthday is coming up and I want to gift him something good. What are your recommendations?”

As the barkeeper put forth a few bottles of good liquor on the table, the door opened with a creak and an old man with salt and pepper hair entered the bar, his eyes darting outside as if to check that he wasn’t being watched by anyone. Once satisfied that he was alone, he walked into the room and sat on a stool next to Hange. One look at his wrinkle-webbed face and Hange let out a surprised sound.

“Commander Pixys?”

Pixys placed a finger on his lips. “I’m undercover,” he whispered, pointing towards his salt and pepper wig. “If Anka finds out I’m here, I’m screwed big time.”

“Don’t worry,” Hange smirked, “Your secret is safe with me.”

The barkeeper poured a glass of whiskey to Pixys as Hange sifted through the bottles, almost as meticulously as Mike did, minus the sniffing or smirking part. The old Garrison commander took this as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with the scout.

“I heard your titan experiments are yielding results,” he said over his glass, “How did you manage to capture two of them without any casualties?”

“We lured them to the walls and used spiked nets to pin them to the ground,” Hange replied cheerfully.

“As expected from the Survey Corps’ genius.”

“No, no,” Hange waved off his compliment with a light chuckle. “None of this would have been possible without Erwin’s support and Levi squad’s contribution. They did most of the work.”

“You’re too humble,” Pixys shook his head, his wig sliding down a little as he did. “You know what would be a better contribution to humanity, though?”

“Hm?”

“If you researched wine with as much passion as you have towards the titans,” he said as Hange laughed. “Just imagine the breakthroughs you’d come up with that the world can benefit from.”

“How about we combine the two of them together?” Hange proposed. “Think about it, we can make the ultimate Titan-wine!”

“Huh? How is that possible?”

“We can dig a pit outside the wall and fill it with a giant tub full of berries,” Hange went on in her half-drunk state. “Then we lure the titans to fall into the pit, resulting in them stomping the berries into pulp. Once they do the grunt work, we can dispatch Levi and Mike to kill them off. Their bodies would evaporate, leaving no trace of them on the wine. Who knows- the heat might enhance the flavour as well…”

Pixys threw his head back and laughed, patting Hange on her back.

“This is exactly why humanity needs you!”

During his thirty long years of running the bar, the barkeeper had heard many questionable conversations, but this was probably the most bizarre one of them all- considering it was one between a commander and a section commander of the military. He thanked his stars as Hange broke off the conversation after selecting the wine she needed with Pixys’ insight. Wrapping the selected bottle in brown paper, he handed it to Hange, who paid for it separately.

Once Hange left to join her comrades, the barkeeper poured another glass of whiskey for Pixys. Now that his conversation partner had left the table, he started talking to him instead.

“It’s so rare to see them having fun like that,” he said, looking wistfully at the Survey Corps, who were hooting and catcalling at Erwin as he loosened a few buttons on his collar with a lazy smile on his chiseled face. “It’s hard to maintain sanity and optimism when you see your dear friends get killed in front of you during every expedition.” He took a deep drink of his whiskey. “Maybe that’s why they are so optimistic. They decided to spend whatever limited time they have left enjoying each other’s company.”

The door opened again, the sound drowned by the chaos from the scouts table. A red-haired woman strode towards the counter in a huff, frustrated anger written all over her face.

“Found you.”

Pixys winced as his aide, Anka, grabbed him by his ear and dragged him out of the bar, paying no attention to his miserable pleas.

“At least let me finish that drink-”

“You weren’t supposed to drink in the first place! Did you really think you could hide under that stupid wig of yours? I’ve known you for years, you know, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life changing your diapers if you end up stuck in a hospital bed.”

The door closed after them. The salt and pepper wig lay on the wooden floor, having slipped from Pixys’ bald head while he struggled against Anka’s steering grip.

The Survey Corps paid no heed to the struggle or the aftermath of the fallen wig as they were too busy goading Nanaba to dance for them.

“Alright, alright,” Nanaba gave in with a laugh, “Just a few steps, but only if some of you guys join me.”

She pulled Marlene up on her feet, while Hange needed no prompting. After downing yet another shot of whiskey, they let themselves loose, snapping their fingers and shaking their bodies to the rhythmic clicks and claps of the rest. Nanaba really was good at it, and the barkeeper did not miss Mike’s longing glance at her.

Their laughter and whoops were interrupted rather rudely by one of the MPs who stood up and glared at them.

“Tch,” he said, his face twisted in disgust at the Scouts, “Can’t have a moment of peace and quiet in here. Stupid scouts, always kicking up a ruckus wherever they go.”

The other MP, however, did not seem so wasted, considering he was tugging the drunk one’s shirt, subtly signaling him to stand down. They were in the presence of the commander and the section commanders of the Survey Corps after all.

The drunk one did not seem to care about their ranks. “Go on,” he jeered, to the now quiet table, “Drink away all our taxes. That’s all that you all are good for either way.”

“What’s your problem?” Levi growled, his sharp gaze trained on him.

The drunk MP waved a hand at them. “Y’all are the problem,” he said, his words slurring together, “To the ‘ntire society. You Scouts are a sham in the name of soldiers. The world would be a better place if you imposters got eaten by the titans y’all love so much.”

There was pin drop silence in the bar. The barkeeper felt his blood pressure rise steadily as the air thickened with tension. The drunk MP, however, did not seem to notice the predatory looks trained on him, unlike the other MP, who desperately hissed at him to shut up already.

“The Survey Corps is too grand a name for what is nothing but a funeral parade,” he went on obliviously. “All you are paid to do is to lead a bunch of stupid, starry eyes idealistic brats that join your dumb regiment to their gruesome deaths in the maws of those titans. At least that saves some resources inside the walls for sane people to live-”

His words were cut short by a strangled choke as Hange strode towards him and lifted him up by his collar.

The barkeeper rushed out of the counter to mediate the situation, but froze on his tracks when he glimpsed the absolute fury in the section commander’s eyes.

“Hange,” Erwin warned, but she paid no heed. Her stare was fixed on the MP’s wild eyes as he struggled to get out of her powerful, vice-like grip.

“Do you know why you MPs can live such comfortable lives within the walls?” she asked, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. “It’s because we, the Survey Corps, risk our lives to seek the knowledge that can give humanity a chance at survival. We are humanity’s spear- fighting in the front lines so that you can meekly settle down behind the walls with a family.”

As the MP clawed desperately at her hands, she shook him harder and flung him across the bar with a grunt. To the barkeeper’s horror, he crashed right on the table they were occupying earlier. The table upturned and the beer glasses shattered, amber liquor soaking the wooden floor.

Hange was still glaring at them as she was pulled back by the combined efforts of Moblit and Mike.

“If you can’t learn to show some gratitude towards the fallen, at least learn to shut up.”

The MPs scurried out of the bar immediately after. The sober one shoved a wad of excess cash into the barkeeper’s palms before he dragged his drunk friend from the establishment. Erwin apologized to him on Hange’s behalf and assured that he’d pay for the damages caused as the others tried to get Hange to calm down- which wasn’t working very well, as Moblit was the only one chiding her for being reckless while the others sat with a suppressed smile, smug satisfaction written clearly on their faces.

“Can't believe the gall of these MPs!” Hange ranted angrily, watching their backs as they left. “If you guys hadn't stopped me, I’d have climbed up on him and given a demonstration of how heroic Erwin looks as he rides a horse outside Wall Rose.” An overly exaggerated, determined look morphed her face as she saluted, hitting her fist to her heart with an amount of force enough to make the barkeeper flinch. “Dedicate your heart!” she declared, deepening her voice considerably, as if she were imitating the commander.

Marlene, Nanaba, Gelgar and Mike immediately responded with similar salutes and a ‘yessir’, while Erwin looked slightly red. A soft, huffing laugh caught their attention, and all eyes turned incredulously towards the source of the sound- Captain Levi.

Hange gasped loudly. “Somebody take the wine bottle away from Levi! He’s so drunk that he’s actually laughing.”

“Shut up, Four-eyes,” his signature scowl returned back to his face. “I'm a human being, not a brick wall.”

“I could easily have mistaken you for one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, I wish I could get drunk just so that I don’t have to hear the shit that spouts out of your mouth all the time.”

“Ah, the things that some strong alcohol can do to others but not to poor Levi here. How unfortunate. But there’s a way to recreate that drunken state without alcohol, y’know? Just don’t sleep for ten days.”

“Joke’s on you, I'm an insomniac.”

“So is this your permanently drunken state?” Hange tapped on the commander’s arm, “Erwin, you should look into this. Imagine how much more powerful he would be if he got an adequate amount of sleep each night.”

“Wrong, Hange. Levi is probably this powerful because he doesn’t get any sleep.”

Hange let out a bark of laughter. “You might be right there.”

As their banter continued, Moblit approached the barkeeper. “If it’s not much of a problem, may I request a pencil and a piece of paper?” he asked.

“Sure, sir,” the barkeeper replied as he pulled out his notepad, tore a page and handed it over to him with a pencil he found lying around in the cash drawer. Moblit accepted it with thanks and made himself comfortable on one of the stools with a good view of the Scouts’ table. He started drawing, the pencil scratching on the paper as he made stroke after stroke.

The barkeeper looked on. Even if the sketch was a little shaky- probably because of the alcohol influence- there was no doubt that the man in front of him was an excellent artist. He rendered a near-perfect, dynamic portrait of the team of Scouts who were laughing over one of Erwin’s old stories. Moblit did take some artistic liberties here and there, making the Levi in the painting smile the way he did a while ago, Erwin relax with his loosened shirt collar and pleasant satisfaction gracing his face, Nanaba laugh as she looked over at Mike, and a drunk Gelgar and Marlene with droopy eyes and arms around each other, sharing a joke only they knew. Hange was, by far, the figure Moblit put the most effort into- apparent by how in-focus she looked in the portrait- with her striking dark hair, wide grin and the mischievous twinkle of her eyes behind the glasses.

“You are not drawing yourself with them?” the bartender asked.

Moblit blinked at him, as if it was something that did not occur to him before. From over the table, Hange waved, placing a palm on the side of her mouth as she called him.

“Moblit, collect your stuff, we are leaving.”

“Will be right with you, Section commander.”

He shook his head at the barkeeper, casting a fond look over at his comrades. “It’s alright,” he murmured, “I just wanted to capture this memory.” The barkeeper nodded as Erwin approached the counter to pay for the drinks as well as the shattered glasses. The rest of the Scouts got up and stretched themselves, collecting their bags and belongings from where they kept them on the floor. Once the payment was settled, Erwin thanked the barkeeper and left, the Scouts joining their commander as the door creaked open one last time.

With his final customers gone, the barkeeper counted the day’s earnings and shut down the bar for the night. As he stood outside the threshold to lock the door, his lips curled in a smile as he heard drunken singing drifting toward him from the end of the moonlit road.

Some things never change.

So ist es immer

We live under the burnt clouds

Ease our burden

Long is the night.

[marie-dufresne]

Hitting the Showers

Because @cxmmandxr hit me with a new verse so I went a little wild.

Tucked away in the girl’s locker room of her high school, Marie Dufresne listened to the hoots and hollers of the football team across the hall, just having finished practice. She didn’t mind that they took so long; she wasn’t exactly going home tonight, but hiding was boring.

When at last the lights were flicked off, her eyes moved up to the clock and she waited some more. Fifteen minutes should be good. It usually was enough time for all the jocks to pile into their cars and head home, or for the younger ones to roughhouse while they waited for mom and dad to pull up in the SUV and head home, swinging through a drive-thru on the way.

Marie did not have this luxury, Hell she didn’t even have the luxury of running water at the moment, so when she had learned the school budget did little for the girl’s locker room and it’s broken hot water, she had no qualms about hitting up the showers across the hall. The lady jocks bitched and moaned about needing to use boy’s showers when it was their turn to do so, but Marie was grateful just to scrub the cigarette smoke from her hair.

It was getting cold, nearing Thanksgiving, and she savored the hot water on her back, knowing this was as warm as she’d get until her next one (the school’s heating system doing very little to keep anyone warm) and mentally planned out the dinner she was going to steal from the vending machine in the gym lobby.

All of this was cut short when the lights came back on and she heard the low rumble of a teenage boy’s laughter, followed by a, “you shy, bro?”

She didn’t have time to react to this, the curtain yanked aside, and she screamed, crossing her arms over her chest and whipping to face the wall, giving whoever it was the least private of her private bits and praying he wasn’t going to pounce.

He didn’t pounce. Instead, he jerked the curtain closed and staggered back against the wall, trying to make sense of what’d he’d just done.

Erwin Smith had forgotten his history book.

That was all.

There was an outline of the newest chapter due tomorrow morning and it wouldn’t do not to have his homework done to the best of his ability, so as he had pulled off of campus, he had promptly turned around and headed back inside to retrieve it, conveniently having borrowed coach’s key that morning and been told not to worry about it.

“Fucking football players!” Marie hissed, shutting the water off and re-crossing her arms, now shielded from his view, but also cold and wet.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, “I thought you were one of my friends.”

Marie pursed her lips. She knew that voice. Everyone knew that voice. That was Erwin Fucking Smith, everyone’s favourite. He was bordering on illegally attractive which generally would have put him on her radar, but he was also notoriously nice and nice guys weren’t exactly her style.

“Can you at least pass me a towel?” she asked, sticking her hand out of the curtain. He did as she asked and she wrapped it around herself before stepping out and into the frigid air of the locker room.

“Are you just going to stand there?” she wondered, giving him a disapproving once over, “or are you going to do whatever it was you came back for?”

He should have gotten his book and left. It would have been the polite thing to do, but of any of the girls in this school he had expected to be using the showers, Marie Dufresne was not one of them. He wasn’t even sure she knew the difference between lacrosse and track and field to be honest. There were many things the tiny blonde before him was. Athletic was not one of them.

“Why are you here?”

A good liar was also one thing Marie was not, so she didn’t bother to try. “Water’s off at my house, whatever. It’s. . .it’s temporary.”

But the slight waver in her voice suggested to Erwin it was not temporary and he cast his glance down to the bench where an overnight bag accompanied her backpack and purse.

“Are you sleeping at school?”

Marie ignored him, yanking a new outfit out of her bag, scooting into a dry stall and changing into something clean and a little less. . .cigaretty.

“Marie are you sleeping at school?”

This time his question was less of a curiosity and more of a demand.

“I’m not stealing anyone’s shit, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she snapped, reaching for her bag, but he pulled it up onto his back and out of her reach. Her backpack followed, and he handed her her purse, too much of a gentleman to think he had a right to hold it without her permission.

“You’re sleeping at my place tonight.”

Marie pulled back.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, slipping her feet into her platform penny loafers, her favourite steal so far this year, “not unless there’s something in it for me.”

Erwin had always known Marie Dufresne was, in a word, easy. Half the team bragged about having fucked her, and the other half made fun of the first half because really, who hasn’t?

Erwin hadn’t. He also hadn’t expected his proposal for an act of kindness to be twisted so suddenly into him wanting sex. Thusfar he hadn’t wanted sex with anyone. Well, this wasn’t true. At seventeen it was hard not to want sex, but none of the encounters he had been presented with had seemed important enough and he supposed sex for sex’s sake was beneath him.

“I said sleeping at my place,” he repeated, “not having sex.”

“And there’s a difference,” she scoffed, pulling her hoodie over her head.

“Yeah, there’s a difference,” Erwin muttered, dropping his varsity jacket onto her shoulders, “it’s cold outside.”

For a moment, Marie was frozen where she stood, the weight of the jacket warming her small frame, but when she slipped her arms into the sleeves and smelled him on it, she felt a tightness in her throat, and a burning behind her eyes. This was normal for so many of her peers—wearing a boy’s coat, taking in his smell, taking comfort in his scent—but it was something she had never experienced herself.

It didn’t mean anything, not to her, and certainly not to him, but it put a crack in her resolve, and when Erwin saw her reluctance to move, he placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her from the gym.

She groaned inwardly at the sporty something or other that was his car, and when her hand fell on the passenger side handle, he joined her.

“Oh sorry,” he said, “other side.”

“What?”

He tapped lightly on the window and she looked inside, seeing the steering wheel on the right side and stepped back and around the front of the car.

“What the heck is this?” she asked, sliding in.

“My parents—mostly my dad—imported it for me from Japan last year. This is the only way it comes.”

It was in this moment Marie knew she was in over her head. A wave of nausea came over her and she dropped her hands to her face. He’d gotten a car imported for him for his sixteenth birthday.

She hadn’t had running water in her house since the Fourth of July.

“I should just go home,” she sighed, sinking low in the seat. No running water she could deal with. No heat she could deal with.

“If you’re sleeping at school maybe you shouldn’t,” he noted, doing his best not to show off the speed of his vehicle as they pulled away from the building. He knew a thing or two about rebellious teenagers, but a complete avoidance of home life was serious.

“It’s just—“ she pulled his coat a little closer around her body, “—it’s nothing. I’m just a brat, that’s all.”

He slid his gaze to the side, unused to seeing her so vulnerable. At school she was almost always laughing, flirting, teasing. Barely an hour went by when one of the boys wasn’t slapping her ass or copping a feel, something she always laughed off or encouraged a little bit more.

But maybe she didn’t like it as much as she pretended to. Maybe; he didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to pry now.

“We have a guest room,” he offered, “it’s all yours.”

“You have a guest room,” she repeated. She didn’t even have her own bedroom.

Gathering that their home lives were vastly different, Erwin kept quiet for the remainder of the drive, helping her again with her bags once they arrived at his house. They were greeted by his mother and Erwin set his gear down in the foyer.

“Mom, Marie is going to spend the night, is that alright?”

Mrs. Smith raised her eyebrow in a playfully suggestive manner, taking note of the way Marie was, without realizing it, snuggled up in her son’s jacket.

“Girlfriend?”

“No, no,” Erwin said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek, “just a friend.”

She didn’t believe him, ever hopeful he’d start bringing girls home, but she supposed a female ‘friend’ was a start.

“Well I’ve made you a plate, sweetheart. Let me get one ready for your friend as well.”

“Oh—“ Marie started, “you don’t have to—“

“It’s seven-thirty!” Mrs. Smith scolded her, “you need to eat something!”

“Let her feed you,” Erwin advised, motioning for her to follow him upstairs, “it’s what she does.”

Marie supposed having a home cooked meal that probably didn’t come from a can or a freezer (from the looks of the designer kitchen) wasn’t such a bad idea. She dropped her purse on the guest bed, then grimaced and lifted it up, putting it instead on the bedside table. She hadn’t ever realized how grimy it was until it was set against the suburban perfection that was the Smith’s house.

“Oh you can have your coat back,” she said, shimmying out of it and handing it back. Erwin accepted it without much thought, hanging it on the doorknob across the hall when they headed back downstairs.

Dinner, even reheated, was absolutely amazing and Marie wasn’t shy about eating it. Erwin didn’t press her with questions and though his father came through the room in search of a beer, the two barely acknowledged each other.

So maybe it wasn’t perfection after all.

“If you ever decide to date my son,” Mrs. Smith said, digging through her baking cabinet to make muffins for tomorrow’s breakfast, “remember he’s a good boy.”

“Oh my God, mom, please,” Erwin moaned, running a hand over his face to hide the reddening on his cheeks.

“Everyone knows Erwin’s a good guy,” Marie said with a smile, “that’s why he’s so popular.”

“Oh it has nothing to do with his handsome face? He gets that from me, you know.”

“Mooooooooommmmmm.”

For the first time since she could remember, Marie felt genuinely at ease and she laughed at this, crying out when she dropped her fork, diving for it as it hit the pretty rug beneath the dining room table.

When she popped her head back up, Erwin was staring at her and she looked from the fork to him, her laughter dying off, unease settling inside of her chest.

“What.”

Erwin stabbed at a few mushrooms on his plate, diverting his attention from her.

“Nothing you just—your smile is really pretty.”

Her walls shot up and she rolled her eyes, throwing him a flirtatious grin, and fluffing out her blonde curls, “we’ve been in the same school since we were ten and you’re just realizing this now?”

Erwin understood her defense, so he gave her a little chuckle in return, but he knew that she knew what he meant. The smile she’d just displayed was not one he had ever seen at school and as she refocused on her dinner, he wondered what had robbed her of it so long ago, and if there was a way he’d ever be able to see it again.

“My mom never cooks like this,” she said, “so thank you; it’s so good.”

“I can give you the recipe,” Mrs. Smith offered, pouring the mix into the muffin tins, “it’s so easy.”

Marie nodded, not finding it important that her mother probably hadn’t cooked for herself in over twenty years, and not having water presented its own problem. Maybe someday they’d have a working kitchen and she could take a stab at making. . .whatever this had been. She couldn’t pronounce it.

After dinner, Erwin hoisted his backpack up onto the table, pulling out his notebook before realizing he hadn’t actually taken his history book from his locker like he had gone back to do in the first place.

“What’s the matter?”

He let out a low hum, annoyed with himself, and stuffed the notebook back into his bag. There went his perfect homework score.

“Left my History book at school.”

Marie sat up, “Which History are you taking? I have my book, not that I ever use it.”

With a year (and a distinct difference in respect for their education) between them, Erwin shook his head. “No, it’s fine it’s AP History so—“

With a scowl on her face, she pushed the chair back and wordlessly made her way upstairs. He sighed, not having meant to insult her, but when a book was thumped down on the table and pushed towards him, she plopped back down.

“I might be a skank but I’m not stupid,” she told him, pout firm on her face, “far from it, you know.”

Erwin found himself speechless at this, but accepted the book nonetheless.

“They keep putting me in these smart kid classes as if I’m going to actually do anything with my life,” she sighed, putting her head in her hands, watching him start his homework.

“If you have the opportunity why wouldn’t you do it?” he wondered.

She rolled her eyes, “it doesn’t matter how smart I am. Girls like me don’t go anywhere.”

“Girls like you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, not ready to delve into her litany of woes, “I know what’s expected of me.”

Never one to pry into the matters of others, Erwin nodded, accepting her personal life as just that, personal. But also not one to allow himself to fall to mediocrity or complacency, he found it difficult to allow others to do so.

“Just because it’s expected of you doesn’t mean you have to do it.” He thought about it for a minute, and added, “and if you ever decide you want to do more than just sleep around, I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

It might not have exactly been the friendliest of offerings, but Marie took it nonetheless.

“Why don’t you want to sleep with me?” she asked, a question that had been tugging at her all night, despite her suggestion earlier that she wasn’t willing to.

Erwin looked up from his notes, reading her face and realizing that his disinterest in sex had been an insult to her. It had hurt her, and he now understood why it was she lavished in the attention of the male population day in and day out.

That was her worth.

“Because I like you,” he decided, and as the words came out of his mouth, he realized it was true, “and because you’re not a toy for me to play with.”

Marie sat in silence at that, having a difficult time comprehending how liking someone made them not want sex, but at his suggestion that the other boys (and men) she’d been with had simply been using her for a good time, she knew it was true. She tried to pretend it was she who was toying, but it wasn’t so.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced, standing before he dug out anything else from her, “keep the book until the morning.”

As she was halfway up the stairs, Erwin turned in his chair, calling out to her.

“If you come to my game tomorrow, you can stay the weekend too,” he offered, “if your water situation isn’t fixed.”

She heard what he hadn’t said and though the kindness he and his family were displaying was new and appreciated, it was overwhelming.

“Maybe,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders, “if you win.”

She gave him a small wave and disappeared upstairs and Erwin grinned to himself, tapping the end of his pencil against his notebook.

They were undefeated.

[fellow-traveller]

Imagine an au where Erwin, Nile and Marie are the best of best friends since childhood. Marie was the loudest and most active kid in the trio, Nile was the quiet and timid one, and Erwin the smart boy who normally balances the group. The three of them got into a lot of trouble as children, became conflicted as they grew up when Nile had feelings for Erwin but chose to back away for Erwin and Marie. Erwin adored Nile and Marie equally but prefers not to have any true commitment to either of them. Marie wanted both of the boys for herself. They argued about their thoughts on the relationship, like who should have who, and which one of them should fall back and give up. This made them drift apart as they got into their college years. Eventually they reconciled and as adults, they became even closer as they reached an agreement - that Nile and Marie would marry each other, and Erwin agreed to be their middleman-cum-lover. Their relationships lived on and never faded over time. Till death do them apart, so to speak.

[frenchieleigh]

The Marriage Trade

A late entry for Day Four of Erwin Week: Sacrifice/Loss

Almost an Earl: Preparing to leave for war, Erwin begins to put his affairs in order. Though he tries to protect his fianceé in the way that he knows, his efforts come off as cold and cruel, putting a rift in his friendship with Nile Dawk.

Though in the eyes of society the night was still young, and Lord Erwin Smith was just as capable as any of his peers, tonight he wasn’t interested in the ball he was attending. He’d been there for a solid two hours, played a few hands of cards, danced with his fianceé an appropriate number of times, and talked politics with the gentlemen who buzzed around, shouting predictions of the coming war as if they had any intention of taking part.

He’d fulfilled his obligations and now he could say his goodbyes.

A pleasure, as always, he told the ladies, while giving a slight, yet polite nod of the head to his male peers. He did not bid farewell to his hostess, Lady Larissa Dawk, but inquired of the whereabouts of her son. She directed him to the ballroom where sure enough, Nile was on the floor, Erwin’s own intended in his arms, swirling her around the marble tiles of his family’s grand estate.

Erwin supposed he should have expected as much; Marie adored social gatherings, dancing in particular, and it never took much convincing on the part of Nile Dawk for her to get what she wanted. This was, of course, exceedingly convenient for Erwin who hadn’t the time to entertain her every whim. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he was simply a very, very, very busy man.

Or so he had convinced himself.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, as they always did, and with a laugh and a kiss to Nile’s cheek, she made her way through the crowd, dance partner in tow.

“Darling,” Erwin crooned, giving her a kiss of his own, a whisper of affection on her knuckles before he turned his attention to his friend, “Nile. Your mother has outdone herself again.”

“She tends to do that,” he agreed a warm smile, however slight, on his face.

“Have you come to show Nile up?” Marie teased, holding his hand and taking a small step backwards, an invitation to dance, but Erwin shook his head, “I’m afraid not, my love. I need to speak with him. A matter of business.”

Disappointment shrouded her face for a moment, her shoulders dropping and her eyes losing some of the light she had been well trained to hold. She recovered with a perfect grace, however, in one fluid motion of a smile so perfect and smooth no one could have possibly noticed her hidden despair.

Erwin noticed. He always noticed. He noticed because she’d become so practiced, so perfect at masking the pain he caused her and the way her heart broke just a little bit more each time he put something, anything else before her.

Nile also noticed.

Every time.

“Will you be long?” she asked, a gentle finger running up his tailcoat sleeve, a soft upturn of her lips lingering on her features—genuine adoration.

“I’m not certain,” he replied, careful to tinge his tone with apology as he pulled her close, hunching over slightly to kiss her forehead, just underneath where the glittering diadem she sported that night. Had he given that to her?

Probably.

“And will you come to me tonight?”

She murmured the words under her breath, careful not to be heard by anyone else, and though there was hope in her request for intimacy, he denied her this as well.

As if it were her own home with her own guests, Marie stepped back, flicking open her fan and feigning a yawn behind it.

“All this talk of business makes me weary,” she sighed, “I think I’ll seek the comforts of sleep early tonight.”

“I’ll call for your carriage,” he offered, but she waved him away.

“Don’t worry yourself,” she laughed, knowing he had no desire for her company, “that’s what servants are for, after all. Call upon me when you have time.”

She bade Nile a friendly goodnight as she always did and sauntered off in search of her ride home, the illusion of normalcy continued in the way she stopped to speak with Lord this and Lady that in her journey.

“So.” Nile didn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Business? With me?”

Erwin smiled. “I try not to mix business with friendship, but I find myself in dire straits. Might we retire to a more private space?”

Nile nodded, a stiff motion, and led him away from the party, up the two flights of marble stairs to his father’s study. Erwin requested something of a footman and he bowed with an obedient Your Grace, and left to retrieve the item.

“What business is so pressing,” Nile wondered, frowning as he poured himself a brandy, “that you feel the need to escape my mother’s fête.”

“You might need that,” Erwin noted, gesturing to the alcohol with a small point of his fist,  “and perhaps you should sit.”

“Don’t beat around it, Smith,” Nile snapped, “you know I don’t like games.”

The blonde sighed, crossing the room to pour a drink of his own. “Very well,” he conceded, “I want you to marry Marie.”

The glass shattered in Nile’s grip.

“What.”

“Marie,” Erwin repeated, his voice as placid as ever, “I’d like for you to marry her in my stead.”

He could see his friend trying to comprehend the request, ignoring the broken glass, the spilled liquor, and even the blood running down his hand. He watched him try to formulate a question, an inquiry and when the shorter man came up with nothing but a confused silence, Erwin elaborated.

“I’ve enlisted. If I do not return home she will be widowed and, without a son, that is a very dangerous position for her. I won’t see her cast out of my house, or worse yet, forced into the bed of a distant cousin.”

“You’ve enlisted.”

Of all that had been presented to him, this was what Nile made note of? Erwin found himself perplexed. Here he was handing over his fianceé on a silver platter and the man was concerned about the fact that he enlisted?

“I have a duty to the crown—“

“At parliament!”

But Erwin never faltered, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and passing it to his bleeding friend, “Armies are nothing without strategy and tactical thinking. I’m offering my services.”

Nile swiped the cloth from him, wrapping his hand, “You’re offering up your life.”

“If need be.”

There was silence then, a thick, disgruntled lack of words that filled the room and left Erwin checking his pocket watch, awaiting Nile’s answer regarding Marie.

“Why me, then?” the dark haired man demanded, “Why not Zakarius? Mike’s better looking than me, taller too.”

Erwin shook his head, taking another swig of brandy. “Mike will only inherit an earldom. An earldom and all of his father’s debts. Utgard is in disrepair; I won’t have Marie marry beneath what was promised her. You’ll be a duke and the Dawk family is well adored. She’ll be a remarkable addition to Sina.”

Though it made perfect sense to him, by the way Nile’s upper lip was twitching, it seemed as if he wasn’t in agreement with Erwin’s carefully thought out plan.

“So that’s it then,” Nile said, palms flat against the desktop, “a simple business transaction. I get a wife and you have the freedom to martyr yourself.” A dark shadow came over his face then and his voice dripped acid when he wondered, “Have you any heart at all?”

Heart? Erwin had a heart, and with every second that ticked by he felt the path he was choosing squeezing the life out of it. It was difficult to breathe, to stand upright, not to let the heaviness in his bones show and betray what he felt.

Of course he had a heart. It was guarded, and he hadn’t opened it up to anyone, but it was there and despite the rumors and gossip that he was holding onto a betrothal of twenty four years  because he was holding out for someone better, he did love her. He just loved her in his way, not theirs. But there was better for her, and that’s what  he was doing.

He sighed, “I’m securing the future of the woman I love. I want her safe and well off. I don’t find this to be an unreasonable request.”

“But why me?” Nile pressed, “there are other young dukes out there. Ones that are… better. Just, better.”

Though he displayed no change in emotion, when Erwin locked eyes with his friend, the heart inside of him shattered as he announced, “Because you’re in love with her.”

Nile backed down then, not expecting to have been called out so flatly. “I—”

“It’s fine,” Erwin assured him, “you’ve never been very subtle about it.”

The footman arrived then, handing Erwin a large envelope, sealed with the Smith crest, bowed, and left.

“You’re the only one I trust with her, Nile,” he said, pulling out a document, a new marriage contract, and laying it on the desk, “will you do this for me?”

He nudged the ink blotter forward, watching the way his friend wrestled with himself, but lifted the quill from its stand, painting his signature in a perfect calligraphy, the one thing Erwin had never bested him at.

“She’ll hate me now,” he said, handing the contract back to the blonde, “and you.”

“She��s a resilient woman,” Erwin replied, tucking the parchment under his arm, “and the two of you are close. She’ll come to see reason.”

Bidding the new groom-to-be a goodnight, Erwin left the study, contract in hand, the air of a man who had just sold thirty acres of land, not his wife.

But the reality was, there had been almost no truth to what he’d said behind those closed doors. There was a very good chance Marie would never recover from this betrayal, and in one motion, Erwin had, quite possibly, destroyed the lives of two out of the three people closest to him. Though it didn’t sit well with him, he had been well aware from the start that smaller sacrifices had to be made for the good of their people. His people needed him, and he would serve them with a clear head, unattached to anything be it material or sentimental.

He didn’t actually like the idea of Nile hopping into the marriage bed and Erwin wondered, as he descended the stairs pleasant and placid, how he would cope if he did come home. He wouldn’t be able to take her back. What if she had children? Children that should have been his.

No, he sighed to himself, leaving the party and opting to walk down the block to his own city house, it wouldn’t matter how her life progressed in his absence. He was leaving this behind. All of it. He would be calm and detached at all times and if he returned at all, polite and polished as his father taught him to do. If she, nay, if they had children, he would regard them with respect and forego any longing. For now, it was time to put his affairs in order.  

Tomorrow, he would see his bastard sister.

[warm-starlight]

Erwin sent love letters to Marie really? idk but thinking about Erwin doing that is kind of funny lmao

Oh no, wait! He wanted to write one himself, but couldn't find words, so he wrote one to help out Nile. 😅

Poor dude.

It was in a Smartpass AU. It's sweet. :)

[warm-starlight]

That anon forgot to say Isayama's approved ship aka Erwin being in love with Marie :3

Yeah. Sad we never really saw Her. I like that Erwin wrote her love letters in his youth and got embarassed when Hange found out saying "he was just a silly kid". Haha

[warm-starlight]

"Nile guessed that Erwin had special feelings toward his sweetheart".... "That old piece of paper was something from when he wanted to wholeheartedly write a letter to the woman he was in love with" . They way they invalidate his feelings for Marie when she's repeatedly mentioned in the smartpass stories.

The way Nile tells him "There is something wrong with you if you chose Titans over Marie".. Yams wanted to draw our attention that whatever it was, it was for Erwin more important than the love of his life.

But ofc it's going against shippers' agenda so... 🤷‍♀️

[marie-dufresne]

Voicing the Known

lil ol’ ficlet for @cxmmandxr. {armyverse}

Propped up on one of her elbows, Marie ran her fingers through Erwin’s hair in the dim light of the television neither of them were watching. She’d had a bad day, the date he left for basic training a mere three days off and the reality of their separation weighing on her more and more each day.

She understood why he had enlisted even if she didn’t like it. It was his duty, he told her. He had to protect his country, his family, and those he loved. She was among those he loved and his family and though she knew he was doing this in part for her, she couldn’t help but feel the creeping fear of abandonment.

Today hadn’t been good. She’d woke up crying and spent the majority of the day moping about. She’d skipped school, something she hadn’t done for almost a year, not since he’d come into her life, and he was almost certain she hadn’t eaten anything, save the few nibbles of popcorn he’d made for their movie date in her bedroom.

She’d picked a romantic drama Erwin wasn’t particularly interested in, but he laid with her and watched it, arm wrapped around her shoulder holding her close, dropping soft kisses into her hair.

Being disinterested in the film, Erwin found himself nodding off and when Marie noticed this, she slithered out of his hold, sitting up a bit more, and began to comb his hair, coaxing him into a nap she knew he deserved. He hummed every few minutes to let her know he wasn’t quite asleep yet and that he appreciated her affection, her touch soothing to him, a comfort he knew he would miss the most.

Marie said nothing as she played with the blond tresses, observing his strong features in the soft light, unable to understand how such a perfect man could tolerate her in the way that he did, how an honorable person could claim to love her.

She knew she was in love with him, perhaps she had known it since the day he had brawled in her house in defense of her wellbeing, but she had yet to voice it aloud. She displayed it at every chance she got, be it physical affection or emotional support and encouragement, but had never had the courage to speak the words.

I love you was a phrase she had only ever uttered earnestly to one other person, her first feeling of emotional attachment on the receiving end as was true for so many little girls.

Her father.

But as time had passed it came to be that Arthur Dufresne was not worthy of this love, so she had shut herself away entirely, never willing to admit that she had opened her heart to anyone ever again.

She sighed softly and felt her throat grow tight and her chin grow wobbly. Erwin Smith was worthy of the love she gave to him, but he was leaving her. He claimed it was not forever and she knew that for at least the next ten weeks this was true, but after that there was no guarantee. Their country was in turmoil and she was well aware of the countless young men and women who would not return.

She sniffled, trying to hold back, but Marie was a girl who felt in excess, so with a small hiccup, she let out a few sobs and Erwin furrowed his brow, keeping his eyes closed, bringing one of his hands up to rub her back.

“Shhhh,” he assured her, knowing there was nothing to be done about the tears she would inevitably shed.

She nodded, as if she could obey, and her motion through his hair slowed.

“I—“ she paused for a moment, her fingers stopped as she rubbed her thumb gently across his forehead, savoring every bit of contact they had before finally whispering, “I love you.”

It wouldn’t change anything, and she was sure he already knew from her behavior, but as the words slipped from her mouth with the tears from her eyes, she felt fulfilled in having admitted the sentiment and regret for not doing so sooner.

Erwin did know this to be true and he sat up for a moment to gather her up in his arms before laying back down, pulling her onto his chest and kissing the side of her face when she finally broke down, her small hands resting on either side of his head.

“I’m not leaving you,” he reminded her, rubbing her back in a languid paternal motion, “I’m never going to leave you.”

It was a promise even he wasn’t sure he could uphold, but when she snuggled more deeply against him, welcoming a blanket he pulled over them, he knew he would do his damnedest to keep it.

[marie-dufresne]

Who do you ship Marie with more Erwin or Nile (I don't like Nile so I wish Erwin married her D: )

Nile Dawk ride or die.

I mean, first off, they’re actually married with offspring in canon which is hard enough in today’s world of anime without some tragedy surrounding it, but especially in snk. It makes perfect sense for Nile to have settled down and the poor man deserves something good in his life and, as you can see by what I produce, I hope that is his wife and children. (he also does mention that his family is his greatest accomplishment and chooses her/them over Erwin twice so it leads me to believe they do have a positive dynamic)

I also have a thing for married characters. Idk why I just always have, so I tend to go really hard for couples married in any canonverse. 

THAT SAID.

I also. Really. Fucking. Love. EruMarie. 

Like.

HHNNNNGGGGGGG. Do you know how much it hurts????????? You probably do but just. ??? UGGGHHH HHHNNNGGGGFFFFF. UGH. I can’t even put it into words.

I don’t write much of it on my own (since, NM being the OTP if I’m writing fics it’s either them or me being a psycho and writing her with like Kenny or smth) but you can always check out some of my threads with @cxmmandxr because we did awesome EruMaries and I’m 100% down for writing that ship with other Erwin muns as well if they be down for it because, idk if you’ve noticed but I am:

a shipping whore

I just love developing love stories. I can’t help it. :) 

[marie-dufresne]

"Fight Me" - Any verse!

Leave a “Fight Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble ficlet out one character fighting with/or against another. || EruMarie > Londoverse

Ignoring the protests from her servants and the soldiers that lined the great castle, the Queen of Anor Londo strode through her halls with purpose, fully armored, her long haired black cat trotting dutifully beside her. It had been eight years since she’d come to this place, stolen and ordered to be Queen, and the young trembling girl she had once been would never have foreseen what she would become.

With her bow slung over her shoulder and her quiver filled to capacity with arrows the great sorcerer king had enchanted himself, she approached her husband in his own amor, fierce and strong, standing tall at the top of the steps at the entrance to their home, looking out beyond to where an army gathered below, biding their time.

“I’m ready,” she told him, squaring her shoulders, chin held high.

Though her presence beside him did not surprise Erwin, her words did, and he turned his gaze from the crowd of soldiers to his wife, her eyes sharp and narrow, bearing down on the enemies below, hair swept up out of her face, tucked away so as not to distract her.

“Ready?” he wondered, eyeing her armor and weapon. He’d told her to stay in the nursery with the children. This wouldn’t last long. “Ready for what, exactly?”

“To defend our home,” she told him, “I will not let them take it.”

Part of Erwin was proud of her. He’d been right in choosing her for his bride and even after a rocky start, she’d come through. He’d trained her well, not keen on the weakness she so openly displayed, coming from a land of softness and, in his opinion, cowards, and she stood now as a woman who had earned her throne.

The other part of him was scared. He would never admit this of course, and his fear for her life, a mere mortal life, made itself present in the form of disapproval.

“You? You will do nothing.”

Marie was silent for a moment, long ago having learned lashing out did little to affect his decrees.

“You purposefully taught me to wield a long distance weapon,” she reminded him, “I do not need to be in the thick to protect you.”

“I do not need protecting.”

“Perhaps not,” she conceded, bending to his ego, “but you may need time, and my arrows can grant you that.”

Erwin let out a short breath of air from his nose, almost regretting toughening her up. There was no part of her that was afraid of any bit of him. Not anymore, and in moments like this it was difficult to make her see reason. If she was felled tonight, their children would have no mother and he, no queen. After all he’d worked for, he would not lose her, nor would he allow his offspring to suffer the loss.

“You know what I may have to do,” he told her, puffing out his chest slightly, an act of authority, “and if I must change I cannot look after you.”

“I did not come here for you to look after me,” she informed him, “I came here to do what you asked of me.”

His eyes flashed lightly as he cast his gaze down at her. “I asked you to stay in the nursery where it is safe,” he bristled.

But Marie had not been referring to the command he had given at dinner.

“The very first thing you told me to do, when I was eighteen years old with a basket of peaches on my hip, was to be a good wife and a good queen.”

With an affectionate smile, she reached up to place a hand on his, armored knuckles gripping the greatsword he rested on his shoulder.

“A good wife does not abandon her husband, my love.”

“A good wife obeys her husband,” he countered, “and stays where she is told.”

“Maybe so,” she murmured, pulling the bow from her back and an arrow from its quiver. She would not begin this battle, but neither would she be caught unaware.

“But a good queen does not abandon her people.”  

[frenchieleigh]

Legitimacies

Nile was waiting in the foyer when Marie returned, dabbing at her eyes with her hankie. 

“I’m tired,” she clipped, ignoring the arm he offered her and sweeping past him, headed towards the stairs. The altercation with Erwin had drained her of more emotion than she had been willing to offer up, and she desperately wanted her bed, and to be left alone until the next morning’s tea. 

Nile watched his wife walk past him, and he caught the familiar scent of Erwin Smith flirting with her own perfume. He wasn’t surprised, but it gave justification to his waiting, and the questions he had for her. 

Doubt had settled into his heart eight months ago, digging up with it the same uncertainty he had felt when she had announced her first pregnancy, just after their marriage, a mere two months before Erwin Smith had left for war. 

“Marie.”

Though she tried to ignore him as she so often did, when his hand clamped around her arm, she halted, turning to him. 

“No,” she said simply, raising her chin. “I told you I was tired.”

“I don’t want sex,” he told her, “I want truths.”

She took a step back, silently telling him she wouldn’t run from him. He wasn’t a violent man, not towards women, so she knew that even if he suspected something obscenely scandalous (and she truly believed he did), he would not bring any physical harm to her. 

“Nile—“

“You smell like him,” he hissed, pulling her close.

Marie pursed her lips. “Do not get jealous, husband. It is not becoming of a gentleman.”

Not a man able to think of quick rebuttals, his mouth twitched, but he said nothing. 

“I wasn’t intimate with him,” she said, emitting an annoyed sigh, “so you may release me and let me be on my way. I am tired.”

“Are they mine?”

The eyes that she had set on his hand snapped up to meet his own dark gaze and her mouth fell open in surprise. 

“Excuse me?” The words were forced out by a voice that failed to perform its duty, shut down by shock. 

“The children,” he pressed, “Veronica, and this one, are they…did I father them?”

Marie’s chest heaved and she stepped back. He released her arm, watching her eyes grow wide, her lips parted in an expression he didn’t recognize. He wasn’t angry. He just wanted to know. 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, something that seemed to be happening an awful lot lately and her breaths came in tiny gulps of air, not wanting to believe that her husband would ask such a thing. She had expected him to believe she was entangled in an affaire with Erwin Smith, but did he truly believe his own children were not sired by him?

“Do you think so lowly of me?” she asked, her lips trembling as she spoke, “that I would betray my marriage vows?”

Nile lifted his chin to level with her and he took a breath. “I think you are still in love with him, Marie.”

She shattered. Everything he had ever thought his wife to be was swept away in a wave of raw emotion, triggered by the simple reminder that she had never, in her entire thirty four years of life, been in control.

“Of course I still love him!” she screeched, allowing her words to bounce off the walls of the foyer, carrying up the grand staircase, and whipping back around to pierce his heart, “I spent my whole life loving him!” 

He knew it. He had always known it. Everyone had always known it. 

She had been bred, raised, and molded to marry Erwin Smith, to become his duchess, birth his heirs, and carry on living life as one of the most privileged women of their society. She had, over the course of her youth, fallen in love with her intended, and it was no secret that the young duke had equal affections for his bride-to-be. 

Childhood playmates grew to awkward flirtations that blossomed into a full blown passion by the time she was fifteen. It didn’t matter, she had told herself. Her body had been sold to him at her birth; why should she wait, tortured, until he was ready to marry?

She turned eighteen and there was no wedding date in sight. By twenty-one, despite the nights she lay tangled in his sheets, calling out his name, there was no ring on her finger. He was so busy, he would chuckle as he stroked her cheek, politics kept him so busy lately and it would be unfair to a new bride to be so busy. 

She would have to wait just a bit longer.

She never complained, trained to accept that his word was the only word, and that she must place all of her trust in him. He was to be her husband. He knew what was best for her, and for their future family. 

At twenty-three, everything changed. 

There was trouble brewing in a neighboring kingdom, and talk of war. Treaties came and went, some up for discussion, some rejected before they even crossed into the lands. There would be war, the council had decided. And Erwin Smith would lead the ranks. 

Not liking the thought of leaving his precious Marie widowed, Erwin turned to his closest friend, Nile Dawk. Would he take her as his bride? She wasn’t pure as a bride ought to be, but would he treat her well, comfort, protect, and love her? 

Without a word to Marie, the families exchanged contracts. Her parents were satisfied. Their daughter would still be a duchess. 

“I was sold to you!” she choked out, her hand pressed against her chest in an effort to calm her thrashing heart, “Nobody asked me, nobody spoke to me. All of you. . .you went behind my back and traded me like some common cow! A ruined cow!”

Marie had never been ruined, not to Nile. Her lack of virginity had never been something he even considered when he had been asked to settle down with her so suddenly. First, he had thought of her eyes, those beautiful grey storms that smiled at Erwin and shone with adoration. Would she come to look at him the same way? He thought of her posture, how sure and certain she was of herself. Would she greet the guests in their home with such airs? 

Then he thought of her warmth. He’d known her since he was a boy, and she had always brought so much sunlight into his life. Her smile was radiant, her words soft and kind, and when she listened, she did so with a maternal sort of look, the type that set a person at ease, comforted in her confidence. 

He signed the contract without hesitation. He would treat her well. He would comfort, protect, and love her. 

But he received none of it in return.

She had never said a word against the marriage (it wasn’t her place), but when she appeared before him at the altar, she wore the shards of her heart on her sleeve. 

If you’d rather be alone tonight, I’ll honor that request. 

It was a difficult thing to say on his wedding night, and at twenty-seven, there was nothing that he had wanted more than his new wife, naked, beneath, beside, and atop him, screaming out his name in ecstasy. But it had been a trying day for her, and he would do nothing to upset her further.

She had rejected his offer, lifting her chemise over her head and standing bare before him. 

Make me forget him.

He tried. He failed. 

She wept. 

“I never thought of you as merchandise,” Nile argued, watching as his usually composed duchess fell apart in their foyer, her tears of anguish resonating through the entire estate, “and I have been nothing if not good to you.”

“Are you accusing me of being ungrateful?”

“No,” he replied, “I am asking you a question.”

“Why does it matter?” she spat, tripping over her own feet as her knees turned to water. His breath caught in his throat and he dashed forward, catching her by the arm. She shoved him away and he could feel the backs of his eyes begin to burn. Did she hate him now?

“They still live under your roof, have your name. You are the one they call papa, and they’ll look to you to choose their husbands for them. Not him.”

Nile set his mouth in a thin line and he crossed his arms. “I will not be choosing their husbands,” he said stiffly, “that practice hasn’t done us any good now has it?”

It was a bitter remark, the sort that was better directed at Levi Ackerman or the like, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t lose his daughters.  He wouldn’t lose his daughters.

It was in that moment that Marie felt a surge of shame wash over her. Had she not just told Erwin that she had wished for the children to be his? She had. She had wished to take the three girls, and one unborn child, away from their father, away from a good man who treasured them, just to satisfy her own feelings of a romance long dead.

She had shut herself away for nine years, keeping her heart locked up for a man who had tossed away the key. She had allowed this husband of hers to use her body out of obligation and because he wasn’t without his own talents. She had spent his money, run his household, allowed him to shower her with praise, affection, and the genuine happiness that he held out of pride for having such a wonderful woman at his side but she had never, not once, looked upon him with approval. 

When he had chosen to work intelligence from the city, he hadn’t done so out of fear or cowardice. He had chosen a position in which he would be able to care for his family—his wife and newborn child. He had endured the scorn of the combat veterans and the mockery of his own ignorant peers for her sake, and for the promise he had made to his friend, the man she loved.

For the first time since she had known him, she was unable to raise her head and look at him. He bore so much for her and what had she given him in return? 

Heartache. Desperation. Insecurity. 

“All four of them,” she whispered, “every single one of our children has Dawk blood flowing through them.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, but when he saw her face turn to ash, he wondered if he had been wrong to ask. Or perhaps she had been wrong to be so open about her attachment to another man. Or perhaps a part of both of them was wrong, and the rest was simply human. 

“Are you satisfied?” she wondered, “is your pride in tact? Your legacy secured?”

“It isn’t about that,” he told her, taking the few steps towards her, pushing his hands into her hair and coaxing her face up to look at him. 

“Then what?” she asked, “a rumor?”

“It is because they are my daughters and they love me unconditionally,” he said, his voice a pained quiet. He grit his teeth, steeling the words that spilled from his mouth, “and they are the only part of you that will ever love me.”

His words hit her like ice and she trembled in his hold. The baby, his baby kicked and she choked out a sob. With shaking fingers she took hold of his face, rising up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips, the first token of affection she had ever offered him. She felt him stiffen, unaccustomed to her initiating physical contact, but when she didn’t pull away immediately, he took hold of one of her hands, lacing his fingers with hers and giving her a reassuring squeeze. 

“You are not Erwin,” she breathed against his skin. 

“No,” he agreed, “I will never be Erwin.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder and allowing him to sweep her up into his arms. 

“I’m tired,” she sighed, closing her eyes. He muttered something sweet into her hair and began the ascent up the staircase and to the master wing of the estate. 

In his arms, Marie could feel sleep pulling at her already and she was willingly submitting herself to it, the clarity of her surroundings fading, the only thing standing apart from the muffled footsteps and her own thoughts was the heartbeat of her husband, a comforting sound that she found herself focusing on.

Nile was not Erwin. Nile was Nile. 

He was a good man.

He loved her. 

Unconditionally. 

This one got me right in the honey nut feelios and I don't know how I feel about myself anymore.