A Devoted Heart (Attack on Titan // LeviHan) - Part 2

Summer Dreams

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to send Levi away with Historia, Eren and the rest after all, Zoë thought gloomily as she watched the sun set behind the Wall around Trost. Waiting for news was going to be torture.

It was the third day after their departure from Mitras and the others should have arrived securely at their destination two days ago. The orphanage was situated in the vast grasslands south of Stohess and east of Hermina, about an 11-12 hours ride from the Capital. Knowing Levi, he had probably pressed on with only a few short breaks, using the dark as cover to get as far away as possible before people could realize the Queen was no longer around. Pixis, Dok and her had agreed to position Military Police and Garrison officers in the larger vicinity of the orphanage - without telling the soldiers what exactly they were guarding - but it would still take hours before she would ever get wind of an incident back here at the Survey Corps headquarters in Trost.

The very empty headquarters in Trost. Which reminded her of only one thing: loss.

Were their fallen comrades watching them? Sometimes, it felt like it. Sometimes, she even wished she could converse with them: Mike, are you happy? I am sorry I never was to you what you hoped I could be - Moblit, why did you look so content when you gave your life for mine? - Erwin, can you give me some advice? I really don't know what to do, I think we're all going to die.

But she wished even more that Levi were here. She'd go look for him right now, probably finding him in his room reading a book. Did he still have this strange habit of picking random books from the library? If asked what he was reading, he would probably say: "A book", not even bothering to look up. She would ask him to have a drink with her, either in the kitchen or at a tavern. Not that tavern - that thirsty waitress was just waiting to go on the offensive. And she would ask him...

... what went wrong between us, Levi? How was it possible we went from hope to despair in just one day? Why did we allow this to happen? Why had she yielded so easily? Why had she not challenged his withdrawal, the erection of walls between them? Why, why, why? I was too shaken by losing you. Seeing you alive was like a gift after the grief. I thought it was enough - I thought that just having you next to me was enough. How stupid.

Why had she sent him away? No choice, duty. If someone was hunting the Queen, they had to hunt who hunted the Queen. The quicker they got to the bottom of this the better. Afterwards, they needed to concentrate on ridding the territory between Wall Rose and Wall Maria of Titans - as fast as possible. Then... finding that thing called the ocean. Seeing the ships. Spying on unknown enemies. Finding out just how screwed they were.

"Fuck," her scarecrow reflection in the window looked at her wit's end.

"Yeah, it's too dark," Maria said behind her and swiftly lit a few lamps whose flickering warm light chased away part of the room's gloom. "I hear it's bad for the eyes."

"Uh... you're still here?" Zoë turned around in surprise. She remembered sending Connie and Sasha away to have dinner a while ago. How had she forgotten about Maria?

"Gotta finish sorting this pile here," Maria answered absentmindedly. "I can't fall asleep if I leave things unfinished."

Her blond locks artfully tousled, Maria was peering hard at the document she held in her hand. She knew how to read, but it took her quite an effort, which made her willingness to stay and help even more puzzling. Without a doubt though, Maria was useful. In Zoë's absence, she had worked out a labeling and filing system that allowed for the quick retrieval of important documents. The system involved wooden boxes sponsored by the Reeves Company, as the lettering on the side proved.

If only she could trust the young woman, Zoë thought moodily, fingering the slip of paper in her trouser pocket.

"Maria, have you seen Annika recently?" she asked casually, plopping down on the precariously creaking chair behind the desk.