Before I Leave You [Eren/Levi x Reader FF]
[ full story can be found here or here ] [Overview & prologue] ➺ pairing: levi ackerman/eren jeager x fem!reader ➺content: mafia au, crime, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst, lol so much angst ➺warnings: violence, blood, strong language, guns/weapons, and illegal activities are all mentioned but hey, that’s aot for you, so if you can handle that, you can handle this (:
chapter 18: in the wake of the storm
More than a fortnight has passed since the attack on the Red Rose, and you have yet to amend all the damage it left behind. To you, your people, and worst of all, to Levi. Although, it sure as hell wasn’t from lack of trying.
Every day that passed was another day your enemies went unpunished. And it frustrated the hell out of you because Ymir was letting everyone believe they got away with it the longer he let Porco and his rebels live.
But it’s as if your father didn’t care that you and your people had been targeted — that they had nearly succeeded. Your father refused to fight back.
“They are expecting retaliation,” he had reasoned with you when you went looking for him after a week of him doing nothing.
He had been in his townhouse that evening, settling underground business with Levi when you’d stormed into his office.
“And you’re in no condition to seek out retribution,” he’d added calmly from behind his desk with a pointed look at your walking cane and stitched up leg. “Not to mention they are Marleyan’s. To invade their country is to bring war to Paradis.”
You’d clenched your jaw in an attempt to reign in your frustration before pointing your cane to the door, as if your enemies were standing just outside. “They declared war on us the second they attacked the pub,” you snarled. “The second they decided to target me. All political formalities are off the table.”
Ymir sighed, leaning back in his chair and forfeiting whatever paperwork he had been working on before your arrival. “I understand you’re upset—”
“Oh, I’m not upset,” you cut him off sharply. “I am angry. Hannes is dead because of them! Jean and Connie are bedridden. Levi’s first mates —”
You broke off from your rant as you glanced over at your fiancé who had removed himself from the conversation by moving away to stand quietly in the far corner of the room. The look on his face was unreadable as always as he quietly watched you from afar, his arms crossed over his chest like a soldier at rest. But at the mention of his late friends, he visibly flinched and hastily turned away, subtly trying to recollect himself and stifle away his grief.
You pretended not to notice and slid your eyes back to your father. ”All of this and you still think me incapable of completing this task?”
“I don’t doubt your competence, darling,” Ymir said in reassurance, “but attacking the Jaws sector will get us nowhere.”
You scoffed, turning away with a shake of your head. Frustrated and hating that he couldn’t just give in to his rage and be that ruthless and vicious leader you needed him to be in times like these—when your pride had been hurt and your people were either wounded or dead.
“The brothers were merely following orders,” your father continued, ignoring your growing agitation. “There is someone else at play. Someone of higher power you need to target.”
His gaze drifts away to the left of his desk and you follow them to where they subconsciously rest on his chessboard. Your nails dig deep into the palm of your hands you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Was he really not going to make a move if it didn’t fall in line with his grand scheme of things?
With a vicious growl, you knocked Ymir’s chessboard off his desk, sending all the black and white pieces scattering to the floor. “I don’t fucking care who sent them!” you shouted. “The Galliard brothers were the ones who bombed my town. They pulled the trigger. I want Porco and his whole bloody sector dead!”
Your father hardly reacted at your tantrum, but your screams were enough to snap Levi’s attention back to you. Any signs of grief were wiped clean from his features as he stepped forward with a hard expression.
“As do I,” he said tightly. “Do not doubt that.”
Your wild eyes turned to him mercilessly. “Then why the delay?” you demanded, directing your anger onto him now. “Why are we doing nothing?”
But it was your father who answered you, forcing your attention back on him.
“Walking into enemy territory is no easy feat, darling. But most importantly, I will not risk your safety simply to prove a point. If you were to be captured—”
“I won’t!”
Ymir sighed as he rose from behind his desk and moved to his mini bar to prepare himself a drink, sidestepping his chessboard on the floor. “Your conviction alone does little to comfort me.”
You scoffed, unable to stand such humiliation any longer. “I have no desire to comfort you.” Your eyes snapped to Levi. “Or you. To hell with this. I don’t need you.” Walking cane in hand, you turned for the door. “I’m doing this, with or without you.”
But as if on cue, Levi moved to block your exit, forcing you to a halt. His eyes were still tinged with grief but they were fully focused. On you. Warning you against moving. It’s how you knew there was no chance in hell he was going to let you walk out that room in the state you were in by yourself.
All the same, it would be unlike you not to try. But before you could have the chance to threaten him, your father spoke behind you from his mini bar. “You’re right,” he conceded, which took you by surprise that you found yourself stealing a glimpse at him over your shoulder. “There is not much I can do or say to stop you.”
You waited for him to continue as he drank from his cup, the ice clinking in his glass, knowing he wasn’t finished and was trying to draw you in.
“So at least make use of the risk,” he went on seconds later, “and kill two birds with one stone.”
You locked eyes with Levi, hoping to catch some information about what your father was talking about, but his gaze revealed nothing. Slowly, you turned to face your father who stood watching you expectantly from across the room.
“Alright,” you drawled reluctantly, eyes narrowed. “I’ll bite.”
Your father gave you a winning smile. “I need intel from Pieck Finger. And Porco Galliard is the only one who knows where to locate her. Neither my men or Sasha and her little web of spies have managed to get much information on her. That woman is as clever and sly as a fox. There’s no way to find her unless she wants to be found.”
You paused. The leader of the Cart sector? “Pieck was involved in the attack?”
Ymir shrugged. “More or less. She is right hand to the man who ordered the Galliard brothers to strike. Her boss wants my downfall as much as Erwin Smith, if not more.”
Your grip on your walking cane tightened. “More than Erwin?” you asked, throwing Levi a dubious glance. “Who is it?”
“The crime lord of Marley himself,” your father replied casually. “Zeke Ksaver.”
Your frown deepened, thinking back to the night at Lord Reiss’ charity party when you first met him. Of how warmly he’d greeted your father, like an old family friend, and how uncomfortable he’d made Eren. “I thought he was your business partner, not your enemy.”
Ymir shrugged again. “It seems he can’t handle a little competition, so he’s set on eliminating the threat. Not that I can put it against him. I’m doing the same thing. But with her intel on him, we can bring him down. She has the proof we need to finish him off.”
Something about what Ymir said disturbed you.
Not that I can put it against him. I’m doing the same thing.
Your stomach plummeted as realization dawned on you.
Your father prided himself in outsmarting his enemies. By understanding how their minds worked, he was able to predict how they were going to react which meant…
“You… knew he was going to attack,” you said quietly. A statement, not a question.
Ymir heard the accusation in your tone, the rage. “I had my suspicions,” he admitted regrettably. “But I never deemed him foolish enough to act on it.”
You broke out in a sharp, mocking laugh. “I can’t believe it! So that’s what this is. You’re not doing me a service. I’m cleaning up your mess!” You pointed a finger at him. “You underestimated your enemies.” You waved a hand between you and Levi. “And we paid the consequences.”
“What happened at the pub was a tragedy,” Ymir stated, “but it was inevitable. My enemies believe you’re as much involved in this business as I am. You cross over to Marley and you’ll only be solidifying that.”
“Then so be it! Their attack against me, my town, my people, was an invitation for me to come out and play, right? Well this is me making my move.” Your voice dropped a few degrees. “And I intend to wipe the board clean.”
You turned to leave, determined to have the last word. But stormy grey eyes stared back at you. Levi was blocking your exit yet again.
“Get out of my way,” you said briskly.
“No,” Levi said, voice thick with emotion. He stepped closer and you braced yourself for a wave of intimidation, but you were taken aback when his features softened instead.
“Please,” he added so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him had he not been standing right in front of you. He raised a hand to caress your cheek lovingly. “You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone.”
You slapped his hand away before you could lean into his touch. “Yes, I do!”
Levi’s gaze had been pleading and full of concern for you that you might have easily caved had you and him been alone. Your fiancé knew how much you longed for his affection; he knew how vulnerable it made you. But you couldn’t let him use it against you. So you looked away and turned to your father instead, moving out of Levi’s reach.
“Father, it's the only way,” you insisted. “After this, none of them will dare lay a hand on me ever again. And not because you command it.” You turned to Levi. “Or because you enforce it. But because they know what I will personally do to them if they so much as try. I want them all to be afraid of touching me.” Your voice turned dark, eyes murderous with intent, as you shoved against Levi’s shoulder to reach for the door. “And they will.”
Even if I have to forsake whatever scraps of humanity I have left to do it.
That encounter with your father was over a week ago, but the wait is now over.
Tonight — tonight you will finally set things right.
You stand in your room, alone, fully armed, and with a shot of whiskey in your hand. You swallow it down in one go and pour yourself another shot. The liquid burns down your throat and almost instantly you feel the alcohol still your nerves, allowing your mind to rid yourself of all unnecessary emotions. Fear, doubt, compassion—feelings that might have once made you second guess yourself — are silenced. By the time you’re out the door, your eyes have hardened, and you’ve steeled your heart against the horrors of the coming night. So certain you are that your actions tonight are justifiable, and necessary.
Outside, a distant rumble echoes through the city—a storm gathering strength as dark clouds swallow the last remnants of twilight.
You’re making your way down the wooden stairs, the sound of your black walking cane muffled by the royal-red runner rug, when you hear a crash on the first floor. Your leg has healed nicely so you hardly wince as you rush the last set of stairs to veer in the direction of the commotion coming from Jean and Connie’s room.
“Has she lost her mind?” you overhear Jean exclaim hysterically from outside the hallway. “She can’t! Why are you letting her do this?”
As you walk into the room the faint scent of antiseptic hangs heavy in the air, mixed with the faint smoke of cigarettes. Across the room Mikasa holds Jean upright and forces him back to bed. His middle is wrapped with a fresh bandage but there’s faint traces of blood starting to stain his left side from the area he was stabbed—most likely from the abrupt movement he took seconds before as you notice his cup of glass lies broken on the floor near Mikasa’s feet.
Connie sits upright on the bed beside Jean, one arm in a sling, eyes full of fatigue but still alert while Sasha and Historia stand at the foot of his bedside. The girls have taken turns caring for the boys, monitoring their recovery and making sure they’re healing the way they should. Though you’ve noticed Mikasa in particular hasn’t left Jean’s side once.
When you realize there is no visible threat nearby—just Jean being overdramatic as always— the tension in your shoulders eases and your posture takes on a more relaxed stance. Mikasa and Sasha spare you the need to make yourself known. They turn to you as they sense your presence at the door. Jean and Connie follow their gaze and Jean’s eyes turn ablaze once more as they land on you.
“She’s lying, right?” he questions you aggressively, pointing to Sasha who must have been the one to announce to them you were leaving. He tries to make his way towards you, but Mikasa gently yet firmly pushes him back to bed. “Tell me she’s lying. You’re not actually going to take part in this, are you?”
“It was my idea,” you answer flatly.
“That’s suicide!”
But his sudden exclamation has him bending to the side in pain.
“Jean, you need to calm down,” Mikasa urges him softly. “Your wounds are still healing.”
Jean shakes his head, eyes closed as he stifles down the pain before glaring up at you. “You can’t just waltz into enemy territory and expect to come out of it alive,” he argues in between his teeth. “Especially in the condition you’re in.”
You frown, the sound of rain pattering against the window mildly distracting you. The rain is starting to pick up.
“I’m more than fine,” you snap. “Worry about yourselves.”
You turn to leave, knowing that the rain was going to cause delays for you, but not before giving both Jean and Connie a meaningful look. “You both belong at my side, so rest and get better quickly. Pieke wants to start a war, and I will need you all at your best to help me finish it.”
“Then wait for us,” Connie’s raspy voices cuts in, making you pause at the door’s threshold. “Don’t start anything without us. Please. We can’t protect you from here.”
Historia finds the courage to step forward as well. “Why can’t Levi just take his people and go? They’re more than capable in handling this on their own. You don’t need to go with him.”
Your eyes cut to her sharper than any blade. “Yes, I do. It has to be me.”
“And what will you do if Eren betrays you?” Sasha asks with a deep scowl, arms crossed over her chest defiantly.
You poke the inside of your cheek with great annoyance. For days you had found it odd Sasha hadn’t brought him up before, to you or anyone else, knowing how strongly she felt about Eren after her recent findings about him. But now you realize she was just waiting for the perfect moment to do so. And based on your cadre’s reaction, she’s succeeded quite well.
“Eren is going with you?” Jean asks, outrage peaking. “Why? No one trusts him!”
You slide your deadpan gaze over to Jean and offer him a tight smile. “Well, that's rather unfortunate, isn’t it? Seeing as how my father has rewarded him for saving my life. Yet again.” Your cadre are too stunned to react as you pull up your sleeve and show them your tattoo of the centipede on your wrist. “Eren Yeager now wears the family mark on his arm; like it or not, he’s officially one of us now.”
“Is that why you’re protecting him? Because of your father?” Sasha questions you skeptically. “Or has he perhaps finally won you over?”
Hearing the bitterness in Sasha’s voice, you drag your eyes over to her, recalling the night she came to you shortly after you’d woken up to report what she had learned from her spies about the attack on the Red Rose and the possibility of a two-faced rat living amongst you.
You give her a wolfish grin, knowing full well who she suspects. “You think my judgement has been compromised?”
Sasha glowers at you. “I don’t know what to think. I gave you a reason to stop his initiation from happening, so he could never be one of us. But you did nothing. You let it happen.”
“What are you both on about?” Jean asks, unable to follow along with your conversation.
“Tell them,” Sasha insists, gesturing to the rest of the people in the room. “Tell them what I told you about him.”
Historia steps closer, eyeing you and Sasha nervously. Her overprotectiveness towards Eren slipping out. “Tell us what?”
They all look to you expectantly, completely riled up—as Sasha knew they would be since this is how they usually get when Eren is involved.
You roll your eyes before sighing, exasperated. “Sasha is under the impression that there is a traitor amongst us.”
Your cadre immediately tense, deeply unsettled by the news.
“Not just anyone,” Sasha adds hastily. “Eren,” she declares firmly, confidently. “Eren Yeager is a spy for Marley.”
Days after the attack, Sasha had gone to you to inform you of what she’d learned. Out of the handful of spies she had stationed across Marley, one of them, a young woman—Kaya— had overheard that not only were Porco and Galliard’s gang planning an attack, but that they had received confirmation by someone close to you of your whereabouts, giving them an exact time and location to target you. But Kaya had been caught. By the time she managed to escape, her warning had arrived too late.
“You have no proof,” you calmly remind her.
Sasha bristles. “I know what I saw.”
“Well, what did you see?” Jean demands impatiently. “What did he do?”
Sasha raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say, Will you do the honors, or should I? You raise an open hand for her to continue and tell them all herself. She’s clearly just dying to do so.
But Sasha expresses no gratitude or glee, maintaining a rather grave expression as she turns to face your cadre. “On the day of the attack, after we came back from the cemetery and you all headed towards the Red Rose, I followed Eren into a different pub on the other side of town. He said he was going to meet Isabel and Furlan there.”
Sasha pauses, waiting for them to absorb the information.
“And let me guess?” you say dryly, cutting to the chase. “They weren’t there?”
A muscle in Sasha’s jaw twitches. “No,” she answers through her teeth. “They weren’t. He was there to meet with someone else. I didn’t get a good look at the guy that showed up, but whoever it was left him a message.”
“And what did this message say?” you ask pointedly.
Sasha glares at you, realizing you’re trying to discredit her accusations, before reluctantly admitting, “I don’t know. Eren burned it all up before I could get the chance to read it.”
You hum regrettably. “Pity.”
“I didn’t have to read it to know it had been a warning!” she snaps, bristling at your dismissive tone. “Telling him to stay away from the Red Rose because it was going to get bombed.”
You nod thoughtfully, ignoring the anger radiating from her. “And how are you so certain this guy came to see Eren in the first place? You told me they didn’t speak or even interact with each other.”
“The guy left the note inside a newspaper on a bench in passing. I saw Eren pick it up right after.”
You nod skeptically. “Right. Well, if that’s all you’ve got…”
You start to turn away.
“Why else would he destroy it after reading it?” Sasha continues to argue. “It was evidence of what they were planning! Of his role in all this.”
You pause, glancing at her over your shoulder. “Evidence that you don’t have.”
“Why do you keep defending him?!” Sasha exclaims resentfully, taking a dangerous step towards you that makes Mikasa nervous enough to move between you. “Kaya is dead because of him!”
You whirl on her.
“No,” you correct sharply, shoving Mikasa aside. “Your little spy is dead because she was not as skilled at her job as you thought she was. She got herself captured and tortured by the enemy. Who knows what information she gave up before she escaped—if that’s what even happened.”
Sasha stares back at you with wide eyes, utterly appalled by your words. “Kaya came back to me bloody, broken, and barely conscious. Her last words to me? ‘Anya is in danger.’ She kept repeating it over and over again. You think she would have wasted her last breath to warn us—warn you—before betraying us to them?”
You hold back on replying and study your wraith for a moment longer as she scowls back at you. Her indignation is the only power source giving her the courage to talk back to you so boldly. If you keep provoking her, you might end up saying something out of line not even she will be willing to forgive.
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” you say as thunder rumbles outside the window, its ominous presence drawing nearer.
You turn to the door with finality, needing to put an end to this conversation. But Sasha is not finished. Before your cadre can react, Sasha takes advantage of the thunder to mask her footsteps and strike, but it's her breathing that gives her away.
By the time she’s grabbed hold of your elbow, forcing you to turn to her, you’ve pulled out a dagger and angled it at her neck.
Everyone in the room collectively holds their breath, the tension in the room overwhelming. But much to her credit, Sasha holds her ground and meets your gaze dead on despite the sharp blade against her neck.
“Careful, now,” you warn her softly. “You’ve lost a comrade, and for that you have my sympathy. But don’t push it.”
“This isn’t just about Kaya!” she growls back, glaring at you. “If you don’t put an end to him I. will.” She enunciates her last words. “He can’t. Be. Trusted.”
Your features soften slightly.
You know she never had any intention of hurting you. She only wishes for you to listen and see reason. But you also know she’s not going to let Eren off the hook anytime soon unless she has solid proof that proves he’s innocent. And to be honest, at this point in time you really don’t have a solid argument that can hold against her accusations.
After Sasha revealed to you what Kaya had learned in Marley, you couldn’t help but think back on Eren’s behavior when he met Zeke Ksaver at Lord Reiss’ charity event, of how on edge Eren had been at the sudden sight of him. Had there been any hint of recognition between them during their interaction that you had missed? Not to mention how strange he had behaved when you both came back from seeing Casamere that one night…
That nagging feeling that he is hiding something, a dangerous secret, has never left you. Were it anyone else, you would have trusted your cadre’s judgement and done away with him long before he had the chance to get this close.
But his fate is not up to you to decide anymore.
Nor Sasha’s.
You let out a heavy sigh and begin to withdraw your weapon. “Whether Eren can be trusted or not matters little to my father. If Eren does have ulterior motives… then we must, for the time being, let them… unfold.”
Sasha looks ready to explode. “What?! And do nothing?”
But before things can turn murderous, Mikasa lunges forward and puts herself in front of Sasha, pushing her away from you.
“Sasha!” Mikasa chides, hands at her shoulders. “That’s enough!”
Sasha resists her hold. “You’re just going to let him take us down one by one—” She points to Jean and Connie wounded in bed behind her— “until there’s none of us left?”
The slight hitch in her voice makes your eyes narrow, and you tilt your head with slight confusion. “Is that what this is? You’re afraid? Of him?”
Sasha has never been one to fear death or dying. Let alone one man—none of your cadre do. But a swift glance around the room and you realize, they’re all giving off the same energy.
“He’s dangerous,” Sasha says, “but not in the way you and I are dangerous.”
Your eyes narrow. “Then in what way?”
You can visibly see the moment the anger leaves her body as her shoulders drop, surprising you. There is still bitterness in her fiery eyes but there is also a wave of defeat that’s hitting her hard.
“You’re letting him in,” she says gloomily. “You don’t let strangers in the way you’ve done with him. Let alone let them talk to you the way he does with you.”
You’re taken aback for a second, expecting to hear something more intense, before chuckling softly with an air of nonchalance, fully aware of your people’s eyes on you. You turn for the door.
“Father always did say keep your friends close—” You glance at her over your shoulder as you go. “—And your enemies closer. That’s all this is.”
Your cadre exchange glances, none of them convinced. But the wind has picked up outside, rattling the windows and sending rain pounding against the roof like drums of war. There’s no time to convince them further. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”
You salute Jean and Connie a hasty farewell and walk out. You don’t wait for Mikasa and Sasha—the only members of your cadre you’re taking tonight— to follow after you as you step out into the hallway leading to the foyer. Those two will follow despite them not supporting your decisions tonight.
Historia follows close behind you into the hallway. “You shouldn’t be traveling in this weather,” she advises desperately. “It’s only going to get worse throughout the night.”
You scoff dismissively. “A little rain never hurt anyone,” you say, opening the front door as you hear Mikasa and Sasha grab their coats behind you.
But as soon as you say that a flash of blinding white light tears through the dark sky — a jagged spear of lightning that seems to split the clouds apart. For a split second, the world is bathed in a harsh, electric glow, followed almost instantly by a deafening crack of thunder that shakes the ground. The sound rolls and echoes, deep and violent, making you all freeze in place as windows rattle. A surge ripples through the power lines — and then, silence. The hum of electricity dies, the lights in your home flicker once, twice, and then the whole town plunges into darkness.
“No, but a little lightning might,” Sasha mutters under her breath before snatching the car keys from the table by the front door and walking out into the storm to start the car. Mikasa follows right after, no hesitation in her strides either.
You linger at the door to face Historia, knowing that the power outage has only brought her even more distress.
“We’ll be back in three days' time,” you say to her with as much reassurance as you can muster to ease her worry. “Light some candles.” You jut your chin over her shoulder, to where Jean and Connie lie in their room. “I leave those two in your care.”
You turn to leave but Historia grabs hold of your hand, keeping you at her side for a moment longer. “Anya—” She struggles finding the right words to say before settling on two.
“Don’t. Die.”
Her tone is firm, but her eyes are lined with unshed tears as she looks up at you the way you imagine a sister looks at her sibling going off to war and begging them to return home safely.
You smile ruefully before gently taking her hand and easing out of her hold. “I never do.”
As you finally step out into the storm and make your way to your vehicle where Sasha and Mikasa wait for you inside, the rain has intensified, hissing as it strikes rooftops and asphalt. The faint smell of ozone lingers in the air — sharp, metallic, and charged — a reminder of the immense power that just tore through the atmosphere.
It almost feels poetic, this chaos. As if the storm itself were greatly aware you plan to do the same once you reach Marley; every drop of fury, every ounce of destructive power you carry within you, you will unleash upon your enemies like lightning.
You will make yourself a reckoning.
The drive down to the docks feels like driving inside a tunnel of water, every street is swallowed by sheets of rain. The windshield wipers drag back and forth as lightning cracks across the sky, white veins splitting the dark clouds, and for the briefest flash the entire street lights up—slick pavement, trees bent low under the wind, flooded gutters, the outlines of swaying power lines. Then it’s gone again, swallowed by night.
Sasha sits in the driver’s seat with Mikasa in the passenger’s seat and you seated behind Sasha. They look tense, the severity of the storm is too wild and unpredictable for their liking. Much like you. But the thunder masks the hum of your vehicle’s engine perfectly, making it near impossible for any Marleyan spy stationed across town to track down your whereabouts and warn their people of your plans.
As you get closer to the docks, the smell of salt and diesel cuts through the rain, mixing with the sharp tang of ozone from the lightning strikes. The storm is louder here, the open expanse of the waterfront giving the thunder room to roll endlessly, echoing between warehouses and cranes. Forks of lightning claw at the horizon, throwing the skeletons of ships and stacked containers into stark relief. It’s a perfect place for business. A perfect place for blood. But once Sasha brings the car to a stop near the edge of the pier and kills the headlights, you step out into the storm and stride forward without bothering to look over your shoulder for any potential enemies lurking in the dark.
You have nothing to fear here. These are your father’s shipping ports. And only his men are allowed entry into these parts of the pier. How your father managed to strike a deal with the king of Paradis himself is still unknown, even to you, but through his deal with the royal crown, Ymir was granted a prestigious Empire Export License that gave his company unrestricted access to trade routes and prevented his shipments from being searched. It's no wonder his importing and exporting of goods is one of his most profitable sources of income. ****By setting up a legitimate transportation business, Ymir found a way for the docks to serve as the final hub in a complex scheme that disguised illicit profits as legitimate business.
And what a beautiful scheme it is, you think as lightning cracks again, briefly illuminating a large, navy-blue merchant vessel docked at the pier. It has the words “Y & Co.” branded on the side of the ship, one of your father’s main merchant ships — and the one he has specifically routed to transport you and your crew into Marley undetected.
It’s really here, you think as you stare at the ship with a mixture of awe and mild surprise. Just like he said it would be.
Waiting for you.
But then your mood darkens as you notice the two figures standing under the floodlight by the front of the ship. The bulb buzzes and flickers in the rain, casting them in broken flashes, but you don’t need to see their features to know it’s Levi and the captain of the ship, Kenneth Brown, fully prepared with some half-assed excuse to not let you board, or better yet — let the ship leave harbor.
You catch movement above the cargo deck that momentarily diverts your attention. On the railing of the ship’s deck stands Eren. You recognize his tall and lean frame even from this distance. He watches over you with anticipation no doubt. Hoping that Levi will manage to change your mind and make you realize this whole mission is complete suicide. But the fact Eren is already aboard the ship means the rest of Levi’s men must be as well. Making this conversation you’re about to have with Levi ultimately pointless.
Still, you know he owes it to his crew to at least try and make you see reason one last time before they all risk their lives traversing into enemy territory.
Your fiancée steps forward to greet you first, his subtle attempt to keep the captain a safe distance away from you. He watches you with that deadpan expression he always wears before his eyes flicker behind you to where Mikasa and Sasha now stand, flanking your sides. Like you, Levi and the captain wear dark trench coats and newsboy caps to shield them from getting completely soaked, but the material’s not waterproof. You would know. You can already feel your clothes underneath clinging to your frame. But Levi and the captain appear stoic and unfazed. They look as comfortable standing there as if they were standing outside on a warm, sunny day.
“Is there a reason why the captain isn’t at the bridge of this ship,” you demand irritably, rain pouring down your collar, “or does he just enjoy having us stand around in the rain like wet dogs?”
“The captain’s spooked,” Levi says flatly. “He says he won’t take her out in this weather. Not tonight.” His voice comes low, steady, carrying even through the hiss of waves crashing against the pier behind him and the growl of thunder.
Your jaw tightens, your eyes locking with the captain over Levi’s shoulder as the thunder cracks overhead, rattling through the steel hulls stacked around you. “That ship sails.” You slide your hard gaze back to Levi. “Storm or no storm.”
The captain steps forward without breaking eye contact from you, resting a hand on Levi’s shoulder to signal him to step aside. “I strongly urge you to reconsider,” he says to you in an equally respectful but quietly powerful tone—a diplomatic approach that usually works well when dealing with others, but unfortunately for him, not with you.
Your eyes narrow. “If you won't do it, then you forfeit your title as captain of my father's ships, and I will find someone else better and less of a coward to take your place.”
The captain is close enough now for you to make out his salt-streaked beard and dark blue gaze. He gives a slow shake of his head, water spilling from the brim of his hat. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen hulls split in less than this. Men swept overboard. Running contraband’s one thing but running it through the mouth of hell’s another.”
Lightning lights the dockyard white, catching the unease in his eyes just for a second before the dark closed back in. You stepped closer, your voice lowering. “We’re not paying you to give sermons about the weather. Get behind the wheel and point that ship east. Otherwise, it’s not the storm you will need to be worrying about, but me.”
The captain holds your menacing gaze a moment longer, weighing in on your threat, before ultimately seceding. “I will ready the ship. But I cannot guarantee your safety or anyone else aboard once we cast off.”
You smirk. “Perhaps you cannot, captain, but I can.”
Thunder crashes again, loud enough to shake the steel containers.
“You see, I made a deal with Death long ago,” you continue darkly. “She will not take me with her until I have taken up my revenge against all those who have wronged me. And vengeance waits for me on the other side of these waters. So, fear not, Captain. Death will grant us safe passage across. You have my word.”
Whether the captain believes your words or not matters little. There was enough confidence in your voice for him to nod, turn around, and take his leave to board the ship.
You start to follow but Levi remains planted in place, fixing you with a cold, hard stare that you can’t ignore.
“You understand there is no turning back after this?” Levi says to you as you try to walk past him.
You offer him a tight lip smile. “Death has sent me on a mission, Levi,” you say in way of reply, “and she’s calling my name. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
Levi works his jaw as you walk past him, his muscles tense, but he doesn’t move to stop you. Which means your father has ordered him not to intervene. You can’t imagine the torture your fiancé must be in to have to watch you walk straight into danger—to have to knowingly let you— but to realize that you have your fathers support is more than refreshing. He needs you to succeed as much as you do.
And you have no intention of letting him down.
Eventually Levi makes his way onboard and the captain hoists anchor. Everyone seeks shelter below deck, but you remain above deck for a moment longer, your eyes set on the dark horizon ahead. Somewhere behind the violent waves and vicious storm is your landing destination: Marley.
You hope your enemies sleep well tonight. Gods know it will be there last.
