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It was a good match. At least that’s what they all said. Mikasa had her doubts. The general was already in his forties and had never yet married. Of course, she didn’t have room to complain. Her dowry was set aflame along with the last of her household. An orphan with no wealth or connections, she was only a burden. And the family that took her in had been so kind to her, it was the least she could do than to marry someone of their choosing.
“Soon the two clans will be one again,” said her attendants. “How romantic.”
That was only because one household had flourished in wealth while the other spent it on drink and gambling. Somehow her betrothed had reclaimed the family name and gained quite a reputation for himself in the military whereas hers had been caught up in the war.
“They say the General is the strongest man in the entire kingdom.” The gossip continued as they slid a jade hairpin into place.
“Strong men only gain their strength through cruelty,” Mikasa said breaking the chatter.
It was silent after that.
<*>
The household welcomed her warmly. So unused to seeing a true lady, they had cleaned the home until it was spotless. Probably to wash the bachelor stench off, she thought. They ushered her into the study where Levi stood by his fireplace. He turned when he heard her enter. She hadn’t been able to look upon his face during the wedding, too concerned with keeping her poise under the weight of the beating sun and her wedding regalia and now she saw him as he was. Short and tired, with a worn, lined face that had seen better days. His ears stuck out too far and his nose had been broken once.
“They have made up your room and brought all of your things. I hope you will find everything in order. Please feel free to call upon the servants at any time. Anything to make my new bride more comfortable.”
He said the word “bride” with a small wry smile on his face. Mikasa felt herself bristle at the insult.
“I apologize,” he said, turning to face her. His face was pinched in pain and only then did she notice the cane in his hand. “I am not used to speaking to noble ladies and the idea of a wife…is new to me.”
Levi caught her eyeing the cane in his hand.
“Ah, that’s the problem with old warriors I’m afraid,” he said, but offered no reason for why he leaned on it so heavily.
She was quiet as he looked her over.
“My god, you are so young. And so beautiful.”
She ran over the words like they were a pearl under her tongue, trying to think of a suitable reply. She should say ‘Thank you’ for the compliment.
“I would have preferred an older, fat and happy widow but…here we are.”
She swallowed her words and instead fixed him with a look of disdain.
“You don’t look happy to have me either,” he guessed. “I must look a right bastard to you.”
Her eyes drifted over the few threads of silver in his hair and then down to the cane in his hand and then met him straight on, meeting his gaze with defiance.
“Fair enough,” Levi said. “I’m an old man with a limp.”
She said nothing.
“Ah, it is customary for the groom to present his bride with a gift, is it not?”
He motioned for one of the servants to bring a box. They set it in front of her. She kept her fingers tucked up her sleeves, eyeing the gift as if it contained a serpent. He must have thought her curiosity would force her to move or say something, but she continued giving him that baleful stare, so he opened it.
It was a long red bolt of the finest red silk.
“Petra is the best seamstress around, I’m sure she can make you a fine gown if you ask,” he said.
She looked from the silk to his face. It was the sort of gift a man gets for a woman. Not what she really wants, but what he thinks she wants.
“Thank you,” she said demurely.
He looked to his servants at her side and when Mikasa turned her head ever so slightly to see their faces, they snapped back down to a bow.
“You must be tired, please,” he offered her a seat on an artfully carved bench.
The servants took that as their cue to leave, taking the bolt of fine silk with them. Suddenly she was very aware of their absence and watched them leave with a dawning panic in her eyes.
“Please,” he offered.
She sat, smoothing out her gown and keeping her back straight. He walked around behind her, his footsteps were so quiet that she jumped when she felt him touch her.
“This must be so heavy,” he said indicating the artful display of her hair.
His hands moved toward her neck and she froze, but he never touched her skin, simply undoing the clasp at her neck. The heavy necklace fell into her lap and the weight on her neck lessened. He undid a few more, sending the jade necklace spilling to the floor. She caught it and set it next to herself. When he pulled the hairpin out of her hair a portion of inky black hair slipped down to her waist.
This was wrong. He was attending to her as if he were a servant. This was something her ladies should be attending to, not him. He was, as she had thought, uncouth and not accustomed to how proper civilized folks behaved. And he took his time. Each lock he freed or each heavy jewel he placed in her palm had her jumping and skittish. He was doing this on purpose to unnerve her. The last hair stick, a heavy ivory piece fell from her hair and her hair slid down and over her face. He brushed it back to look at her, tangling his fingers in her hair.
“You are so beautiful,” he told her and then made to press his lips to her.
She turned her head sharply and the kiss landed on her temple. Mikasa balled her hands into fists inside her heavy sleeves. He pulled away.
“You must be tired,” he said again, walking slowly with his lame leg toward the fireplace. He didn’t turn to her again and so she gathered her things and ran.
She threw herself into her quarters, chest heaving and the serving girl on her heels. She would not have him see her cry, but finally in the privacy of her own room, she let the tears fall. Petra soothed her tears and brought her a calming draught. She drank it and fell into a heavy sleep.
<*>
“You should have been gentler with her,” Petra chastised slamming down the teapot in front of her master.
“I was very gentle,” Levi said, mopping up spilled tea with a napkin.
“If he says he was gentle, then he was gentle,” Oluo said, lighting his pipe. Then at her stern expression, “I was gentle, wasn’t I?”
In answer, she slapped both of them upside the head. This was a strange household. Mikasa watched them from around the pillar. She had awoken with a growling belly and sniffed out the smell of breakfast only to overhear them talking about her. She hid when Petra turned the corner, racing back to her room and diving under the covers, pretending to be still asleep.
<*>
She avoided him for the week. The house was divided just like their clan had been. Only Petra was her companion. On a particularly sunny day, she took her needlework outdoors. The picturesque day was ruined by the loud sounds of clacking and grunting. Petra excused herself from her new mistress to prepare dinner and so Mikasa was left to explore on her own.
“Feet up,” Levi ordered the two men fighting in the courtyard. They didn’t comply fast enough and Mikasa heard a loud crack! as he struck out at a knee. “There! Let that be a lesson to you! Focus on your footwork. You are a tree and your feet are the roots. A tree will not grow without strong roots. Let it ground you. Focus!”
He limped slowly around the courtyard.
“Good. Better.”
Levi stopped when he saw Mikasa holding a fan and her embroidery. The students scrabbled to bow when they saw they were being observed by a lady.
“May I watch?” she asked so quietly it could have been swept away by the wind for all they knew. She offered a little bow to her husband. He clapped his hands and they brought her a bench to sit on and Oluo held a parasol over her head to protect her from the sun.
Levi was a hard teacher, but fair. He corrected mistakes with his cane, his keen grey eyes sweeping for any area for improvement. Mikasa had known he was a great swordsman, but seeing it in action was different. She wondered what he looked like in the ring.
She found out not a few days later. The heat was sweltering and she fanned herself for comfort, but would not retire, she wanted to watch them. Levi must have forgotten she was watching and stripped to the waist to face off against his best pupil a handsome young man who listened to his master with an attentive ear. He reminded her of Eren and her heart thudded dully in her chest. Her adoptive sibling was probably half across the world fighting for their ruler. She allowed her thoughts to drift, but they came crashing back as Levi’s wooden sword came up and knocked the pupil in the ear and the man fell down to one knee.
“You need to watch for that, or else you’ll be in the dirt eating horseshit. Here. Is it bleeding? Careful, that’s how I lost most of my hearing in this one,”
He tapped the wooden sword to his own wonky ear.
“Yes, Master,” the pupil said, wincing and clutching his sore ear.
“Our time is done, leave,” he waved them all off.
They fled off eagerly into the warm air, probably to bathe in the river. Levi wiped his face and then caught her still watching.
“I hope you aren’t waiting for me to dismiss you too,” he said warily.
She stood and crossed over to him. The heated tile burned through her silk slippers.
“May I?” she asked, indicating the wooden sword.
“Sure,” he said, placing it in her upturned palms.
“It’s heavy,” she said, weighing it.
“You should try real steel,” he said, placing one of the dull training blades in her hand.
She gave it a practice swipe and then returned it to him. She avoided his eyes, but he had fixed her with a peculiar expression. She couldn’t divine the meaning of it.
The next week he presented her with another gift. A set of her own training gear. She accepted it with a quiet response and the next day with her hair in a long plait she stood with the other students. The boys were afraid of her. No one wanted to damage their Master’s beautiful bride.
“Pair off,” Levi ordered and they fell over their feet to not be paired with her. Finally one boy Mikasa knew as a braggart stepped up. “And begin. Position one—”
The boaster was in the dirt before Levi had even turned around. He looked from the groaning boy on the ground to her impassive face and said nothing, only clucking his tongue. He paired her with another and they too fell on the courtyard tiles.
“Quit being afraid, go!” Levi said, pressing his foot on the buttocks of a terrified novice, nudging them toward Mikasa.
This time Levi caught her move as she snuck her foot out and upset him without ever using her blade. Levi’s eyes narrowed and he motioned for one of the older students. This one was cautious, testing her parries. Mikasa was not. She hit his wrist with her wooden blade and he dropped his own weapon in surprise.
“You’ve made your point, Master,” another elder student gasped, clutching his arm after a particularly nasty crack from Mikasa. “Do you seek to humiliate us too?”
Levi had actually forgotten about them while he busied himself watching Mikasa’s technique.
“Good, then don’t forget the lesson,” Levi said waving them off. “Go. All of you.”
They left quickly, heads down and cowed.
“I think, my lady wife, that you have been playing a cruel game with me,” Levi said walking around the perimeter of the courtyard.
There was a spark in his eye Mikasa hadn’t seen before. She didn’t quite feel herself either.
“I’m sorry, dear husband,” she said quietly, her voice like blown glass. “Grisha Jaeger, my guardian, was a camp doctor, I spent most of my childhood close to the battlefield. The soldiers always let me play with their swords. I was a very persuasive child.”
She batted her eyelashes.
“Of that I’ve no doubt,” he said, the side of his mouth quirking. “Perhaps you would prefer something a little more familiar?”
He handed her one of the dull steel blades and she accepted. He was fast, despite the injury and she was rusty, it had been over a year since she’d last held anything heavier than an embroidery needle and she tired easily. They danced until the sun was low and the rays sharp. Mikasa’s hair was slipping from the plait and her face flushed. Levi was seemingly not winded in the slightest.
“That’s enough for the night,” he dismissed.
That night they drew him a bath, Mikasa watched the servants running by with buckets of water to fill the basin.
“This is what happens when you marry a girl too young for you, old dogs just can’t keep up,” Eld offered his advice to his master as they helped Levi into the bath.
She watched from behind another pillar. She was so quiet, they never heard her. Levi disrobed and she saw his nakedness. He was well formed, she noted with a blush creeping on her cheek. He sighed as he sank into the heated water.
“That’s me,” Levi groaned as they kneaded at his calf. “An old dog.”
<*>
“I have another gift for you,” Levi said.
A sword. It was beautiful with a faint green etching on the blade. And sharp. She ran her thumb across it and drew blood.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, bowing her head in thanks.
“A beautiful blade for my beautiful young wife,” he said, brushing her cheek fondly.
She didn’t shrink from the touch this time, too focused on her gift.
“May I test it?” she asked, dark eyes flickering up to his.
“After class,” he agreed.
He ordered the students to clean after a particularly dusty day of training. They swept the courtyard free of dirt just as the sky overhead began to rumble. And then it was just Mikasa and Levi and the servants.
“Are you ready?” he asked, but she was already upon him.
He parried and she struck again. The servants watched anxiously as the two exchanged blows. And then, she did the same little sneak attack she had done with his students. She grabbed his foot with hers and jerked him forward. His leg must have ached what with the storm front approaching, and he hissed in pain. They separated, him nursing that leg and her hiding her gloating behind that careful mask she wore.
“Again,” he requested for her to come at him.
She did, but this time she felt it was off and his elbow went to her middle. Sucking in air, she stumbled away. Determined not to let him see her pain, she lashed out and caught him by surprise, slicing through his training shirt, tearing a neat red line into his bicep.
“Hm,” he said, examining it.
“I think it’s time for dinner!” Petra said, bowing on the sidelines, hands tangled anxiously in her skirts.
“Again,” Levi said.
She came at him, but this time protected her center.
“Good, better,” he nodded.
She didn’t want his praise. She knew she was better than her performance so far. She came at him again and again. She didn’t even really see him, she just wanted to knock him down. She brought her full fury down on him and he deflected it which only incensed her further. The rain started, only small drops, but soon the tiles were slick. She stumbled and fell, her back against his. She felt the sword lash out, only inches from her neck as she fell to her knees. Her plait spilled out and around her shoulders, enough for her to see the small chunk he had carved with his blade. Her fingers went to it, feeling the freshly shorn ends.
“Good, let that be a lesson to you,” he said, walking around her. “Don’t lose your focus—“
Levi heard Petra gasp and turned to see Mikasa drawing the edge of her blade across the rest of her gathered hair. It felt to the ground in heavy coils. There, if he prized her hair so much, let him have it.
“Again,” she panted, on her knees, her eyes wild.
“Everyone leave,” Levi ordered, his eyes as dark as the grey stormclouds gathering above.
“Sir?” Petra asked.
“LEAVE!” he turned on them and they cleared the courtyard.
Levi approached Mikasa, grabbing her wrist, keeping her sword pointed at the ground. He knelt down to her so they were on even ground.
“I’m not what put you here,” he said, blinking rainwater from his eyes.
The air had been so hot and heavy and the cool rain was refreshing.
“I’m not your enemy, but if it helps to see me like that, if it makes it easier for you to take all your anger and to put it on me, then do it. Put all of it on me. I can take it.”
He was so close the water ran down his cheek and on to her own. She closed her eyes at the sensation. He released her wrists, but stayed kneeling with her.
Levi brushed a knuckle against her dirtied cheek sadly. “I wish that things were different too. That you were one of my soldiers. That we had met differently. Maybe in another life.”
He dropped the hand as her own came fluttering up to his chest. She set it there, the other still firmly wrapped around her sword, feeling her anger slowly slipping away. She rested her head there. He nearly made a small noise of surprise at the touch, his own hands at the back of her neck, his lips on her head. It was a fatherly gesture, the same she’d received from Grisha all those years and the same Eren had given her before she was given away. It felt like home. She lifted her gaze to his, daring to see family in him, daring to see a future, daring to make this her new home. She couldn’t see anything, but she saw he was kind and perhaps that was enough. It wasn’t love but it could be a start. She allowed him to kiss her, to press his lips to her own.
“Does that help?” he indicated the weapon still held firm in her hand.
“Yes.” She didn’t know how to tell him that it made her feel safe.
“Then you better hold onto it,” he said very seriously.
And then he caught her lips again. Levi’s mouth was soft and gentle and not at all like his fighting. She balled her fists in the fabric of his training shirt willing him closer both in body and spirit. He tilted her head and kissed just under her chin. She gasped and let her head fall back as he kissed down her neck. His thumb ran down the line of her training gear, undoing the clasps easily. He felt around for the binding on her breasts, tugging it loose and it fell down around their knees along with her shorn locks. She felt her body jump under his touch as he slid a calloused hand up her breast and kissed her, finding her peak and rubbing over it with a curious touch. He lowered his head and kissed her breasts, leaving little sucking kisses on the sensitive skin. Her fingers were barely holding onto the sword and she let it fall to the ground. The tiles were wet as he lay her down on them and he turned to the other dark nipple taking it in his mouth.
Above her the clouds rumbled by, the rain stretching down in thin lines toward her upturned face. She gasped as he found her navel and when he nuzzled at the hem of her training pants, she felt something else stir in her. The rain licked at the places where he’d kissed and she felt like a thousand small mouths were moving over her. He undid the tie and lifted her hips, kissing each sharp angle before bringing his mouth between her legs, to taste her. She reflexively jerked her legs closed, her knee catching him in the temple, even as her heels dug into his back bringing him closer.
“Sorry, don’t stop,” she begged.
His response was to let out a low rumbly laugh. The sound had her flushing even as the rain struck her. She tangled her hands in her hair only to find it shorter than she remembered. He brushed a thumb against her lips down there and she shuddered. Nuzzling at the shorthairs, it felt as if he could linger there for hours, his breath hot in the rain. The wet from the tiles had soaked into her shirt, it was hard on her back as she pressed against it to push her body off whenever his tongue circled in a particularly devious way. He had a wicked mouth. All the filthy things he said when chastising his students were nothing compared to all the dirty things he did to her. He kissed down her pale thighs, hugging them close. He gave his thumb a heavy lick and then brushed it against her clit, watching how she squirmed. He was still clothed and she could see the outline of his manhood. Her apprehension returned and she shivered, crossing her arms across her bare breasts. He mistook the movement for her being cold. Her teeth were chattering so it wasn’t that far a stretch.
“We should move inside,” he said sitting back.
He helped her to her feet and then paused. He looked like he wanted to carry her, but his leg wouldn’t allow it. She fastened the draw string of her soaked pants and quickly did one tie on her chest, leaving her midriff bare.
“A poor bridegroom you have,” he said ruefully.
She knelt down and carefully pulled him over her shoulder. He made a noise of protest, but she held firm. He must have wanted to see if she actually could and she did. She carried him like a farmer’s wife carries a bag of rice, grunting as she made her way toward his bedroom. When she reached the threshold, she set him down panting. He was laughing. It was a sound she was unfamiliar with so she stood there, dripping water onto the floor as he continued to chuckle before freeing her of her pants once more. He brushed his hands between her legs again and she parted them. His hands were now cold and she jumped under his touch.
He slipped the training coat off, leaving her standing there naked and vulnerable, her new sword forgotten in the courtyard with raindrops beading on the blade. Her hair didn’t even brush her shoulders since her act of rebellion, but he didn’t mind, he found it easier to kiss her neck. She sought out his mouth and he kissed her again, this time tasting like sweat and her musk. They parted and he undressed, pulling off his top first. She helped, shaking hands going to the tie at his waist. He grabbed her wrist and spread out her fingers, urging her to touch him. Her hands slipped past the tie but when her fingers brushed the head of his cock she pulled them out quickly.
“Have you seen a cock before?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, nodding in the affirmative.
“Right, you would if you were with a military encampment.” Levi nodded.
She and Eren and Armin had played together naked often as children so she was familiar with men.
“But…never…” she pointed down between his legs. Never hard. Never at a full size.
He slipped off the pants and she closed her eyes. She pulled him close so she wouldn’t have to look. His chest was warm against her cold breasts and the place between his legs burned against her thighs. She allowed him to rest her down on the bed.
“Open your eyes,” he said, kissing her lids.
They fluttered but remained still.
“Mikasa,” he requested.
He’d never said her name before, she opened them half in surprise. She looked down between his legs and let out a sudden laugh. It was so loud she clapped her hands over her mouth.
“My apologies, my husband,” she said, slipping back into her reserved voice, even though her mouth twitched.
“Eh, I suppose he is funny to look at.” Levi didn’t look insulted and he didn’t look that strange, on the contrary, he looked normal, but the situation felt absurd and her earlier apprehension foolish.
She reached down to touch him, feeling the weight in her palm. He watched her with an odd look on his face.
“You handle it like you a blade,” he pointed out.
She ignored him, feeling more comfortable stroking him. She thumbed over his foreskin and he jumped under her touch.
“Did your mother tell you what to expect?” he asked.
Mikasa shook her head.
“She never got around to it before she died. But the lady of the house who took me in educated me. I’m not so lost in the dark and I learn fast.”
“I bet you do,” he said, brushing her cheek again to kiss her.
His fingers now warmed against her skin, he slipped one between her legs. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t painful either. She watched his finger slide in and out of her with ease.
“You’re so wet already,” he said with a groan, kissing her hips.
She flushed, not used to hearing such things. He slipped in another finger. In those late night moments when she was by herself and her attendants were asleep she had stirred herself to arousal more than once, but here under his touch it felt completely different. He curled his fingers in a come-hither motion and she gasped.
“Please,” she asked, her body quaking.
He lowered his mouth and continued lapping at her, his face lost in bliss.
“Please,” she begged again. “Levi.”
That pulled him out of his haze. He kissed her again and she felt how heavy he was between her legs. She stroked him before guiding him into her. He groaned and fell heavily against her, lips dragging down her neck. It was different than she expected. She found it hard to focus on any one touch, there was so much happening at once. She found her own hands trailing down his sides and then holding onto his hips, steering him as he rocked gently against her. The sensation was new, but not unwelcome. He thrust into her and she keened at this feeling. She wanted more. She wanted him deeper inside her. He obliged leaning over and curving his hips to hit her just where she wanted. He licked his thumb once more and rubbed it in little circles on her clit. She scrunched up her face. The feeling was too much, there was too much for her to focus on, his one hand cupping her breast, the feel of his cock inside her, his thumb stimulating her. And she had to watch him, the sight of him entering her with steady focused strokes was so intoxicating, she felt drunk. She felt like she was floating away and yet she felt bound to him, grounded together. She felt a familiar sensation creeping up her face and over her flushed bosom. She gave a sharp cry and he rode her through it.
“There we are,” he said as she fell over the precipice.
They had said it would hurt, they didn’t say how good it could be. She felt breathless and she pulled him closer, his nose in the crook of her neck. She ran her hands over every inch of him, feeling those taught muscles, sensing him shake when he grew close. She raked blunt nails across his back and then his scalp, stroking the soft hairs there at his neck. He came silently, simply melting into her touch. She felt the heat of him inside her and he quaked. Her shoulder felt wet where he was and she didn’t know if it was from the rainwater or his mouth, but when he lifted his head he had tears there. She wondered when last he’d been held by a woman. He sighed again between her breasts, his body boneless and his breathing ragged.
“You are wasted on an old soldier like me,” he said, laughing weakly as he rolled over.
He put his hand over his eyes, waiting for his breathing to even out. She wiggled next to him and he opened his arms to invite her to rest her head on his breast. She listened to his heartbeat and then looked up at his face.
“What?” he asked.
“Is my husband finished?” she asked.
“For now.” His eyes ran up and down her body. “…Unfortunately. Why?”
“I liked your mouth,” she said. “I liked how it felt.”
“Greedy,” he chided, but tugged on her ankle as she wrapped her legs around his head and those silly ears again.
She probably woke the house with the cries she gave, but regretted none of it.
<*>
“Master, I have come from afar to seek you out. They say you are the best swordsman in the land and I would ask you to train me. I would also ask you to consider that your bride was once my family and to give me a chance.” Eren finished his speech with a low bow.
Levi looked at the man, took in his form. Mikasa could already tell he would accept him already as a pupil.
“Sure,” Levi said, rolling his shoulders and adopting an aloof expression. “But first you must spar with my wife.” At the scowl on Eren’s face, Levi paused, “Does that bother you? To fight against a woman?”
“No sir, it’s just she always beats me,” Eren said crossly.
Levi turned to his wife and gave a small nod. She smiled behind her fan.
“Then let us begin,” Levi said sweeping his hands for Eren and Mikasa to enter the courtyard.