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Armin was 7 years old when he met Eren.
He remembered the day as clearly as if it had just occurred. He was scared, parentless and too young at the time to truly understand the transaction that had been made between Eren’s father and his own grandfather. However, he did remember how quiet the young boy was upon his arrival to the Grisha family home. The brown haired boy only stared, viridian eyes boring holes into Armin’s skin as if he were being burned alive by the sun. Armin remembered that he did not want to be here, if it meant feeling that way everyday. Why was he being sent to their villa to live? What was his purpose? His grandfather had promised to come back for him soon.
“Please, grandfather.” Armin pleaded, his voice small and wispy, “I want to stay with you.”
“It’s just for a little while.” His grandfather gave the young boy a smile and patted him gently on the head. "Your father owes a lot of money and his friend was kind enough to help with the debt. I must pay him back and in the meantime you will stay here and do as they tell you and take care of their household.”
“You will be well taken care of, Armin.” The woman of the house spoke. She was beautiful, eyes large and brown but full of warmth and cheer as she smiled at Armin, “My son here is the same age as you and I hope perhaps you two can become friends. He doesn’t really get along with the other boys his age. So will you please take care of my son from time to time?”
Armin glanced back at the young boy beside her and back at his grandfather, who gave him an encouraging nod.
“Yes, Domina.”
Seemingly pleased with his answer, the woman called for one of her housemaids, Clodia, to be show him around and explain his duties, while the head of the household and his grandfather discussed the terms. And as he was being dragged away by the house servant, he could feel those green eyes following behind him.
It had been only a few days since he became a Nexus, when Armin finally spoke to the boy whose large emerald eyes dug deep into his very being every time they were in a room together.
Armin had been coming back from running an errand when the a group of local boys cornered him just outside the servant’s entrance to the Grisha compound. They had pushed the boy against the stone wall, knocking the basket of goods from his hands and spitting at his feet. They called him names, made fun of his flaxen hair and bright blue eyes, attributes that his mother once told him were more beautiful than any appearance Venus could ever create. He curled on his side, arms shielding his stomach and head as he took the beatings that came and only stopped once they grew bored of Armin’s complacency.
Armin laid on the ground unmoving and ignored by the hustle of bustle of the morning traffic. He felt a finger prod at his head and he flinched at the touch.
“How long are you going to just lay there? Don’t you have work to do?”
The blonde quickly raised himself from the ground, recognizing the voice of his master’s son. The boy was kneeling down beside him, his green eyes unwavering, unchanged since they first met, it was a look of utter boredom.
“N-No I was...I was just-"
“Why didn’t you fight back? They’ll keep bullying you because you’re such an easy target. You’re okay with that?”
Armin glanced down at the ground, head bowed, “I didn’t lose…”
“What?” The green eyed boy asked.
“I-I haven’t lost because…I didn’t run away.”
Armin may not have seen it but he could feel the boy's eyes on him, simply staring at him as he silently took stock of the young nexus before him, “What’s your name again?”
“Armin…” The blonde responded glancing up at the other boy who began to gather up the goods that were salvageable back into the discarded basket.
“Alright, Armin.” the boy said standing up and holding out his hand, “I’m Eren. None of that ‘dominus’ nonsense. I’ll help you back inside and explain what happened. Maybe my father can take a look at that scratch?”
“Okay. Thank you.” Armin replied, taking the boy’s proffered hand. Their eyes met and Armin found that the look of apathy and nonchalance was replaced with a warmth and awe and this time it did not feel like his skin was being burned.
Armin was 12 when he met Mikasa, Eren’s betrothed.
She had come to visit the Grisha household with her father, a tall gentleman by the name of Cadmus. Where he had tanned skin and sweet faced with auburn hair and similarly colored eyes, she sported fairer skin, with eyes and hair blacker than raven’s feathers. A rare beauty with a strong countenance, the only similarity she had with her father. Armin thought her to be beautiful and envied Eren, just a little, at the fact that he would have such a pretty wife.
He and Eren had been sitting out in the peristylium, taking a break from their fight training. As per his agreement to Armin’s grandfather, Armin was to attend private tutor lessons and training with Eren and his older brother Zeke (before he left for the military). Armin excelled in his studies of reading, writing, mathematics and the teachings of many intellectuals of the time. He particularly enjoyed poring over maps of Rome’s growing republic and with eyes alight, relaying his intrigue of exploring the different territories, known and unknown once he was finally free. Eren always rolled his eyes, saying that it was dangerous to go alone and that he would be forced to accompany Armin because who else would save him from the dark and scary beasts and heathens in the regions that would do nothing but bully his friend?
Of course those nights where they laid together, underneath the covers and dim burning oil, discussing their future travels changed the day Mikasa became real.
“Eren!” The boy’s father called from within the tablinum, his study, "Come here for a moment."
Eren sighed heavily as he got up from the bench, he and Armin were in the middle of playing board game called Latrunculi and he was not doing too well to begin with as per usual. He pointed a threatening finger at Armin, “Don’t you cheat! I’ll best you yet, Minny.”
Armin looked down at the board, over half of Eren's pieces were gone off the board, then up at the boy walking backwards towards his father’s study. He tapped the side of his temple with a finger teasingly, “I don’t need to cheat to best you, Eren.”
“I’m just as smart as you are!” Eren stuck his tongue out in jest reply.
“Clearly not smart enough.” Armin pointed out.
Eren made a small crude jester at Armin, which had the boy laughing and his father calling out for him again.
Armin turned away looking down at the board to determine his next set of moves. Eren was smart. Quick thinking, especially under pressure, but when it came to strategy he lacked tact and patience and that was why Armin always won when it came to games dealing with strategy. He thought ahead of his opponent, formulating a way to predict their moves, waited for the opportune moments to outsmart them and strike, taking them out quickly.
Armin found himself glancing over at the study. It was an open space, only separated by a decorative curtain to give the head of the house and any guests he may have some privacy. He glanced around the garden. There were a few servants milling around, doing various tasks, but otherwise too preoccupied to notice the blonde tip toeing his way to the closed curtain.
“Aurelia would like to move the wedding up, for the spring.” Came a deep voice that Armin took to be Mikasa’s father. “The promise gods blessings of great fertility and happiness if they are married in the spring. It will be a fresh start for them to start a family.”
“So soon? Eren is only 12 years, he has yet to make much of a name for himself. I would hope the gods would be kind in allowing us to postpone it until their 15th birthdays? Has Mikasa even bled yet?”
Armin curious to see inside, gently pulled the curtain aside so that there was just a small sliver of sight into the room. The two men were sitting on chaises, each with a cup of wine in hand. Eren and Mikasa, however, were nowhere to be seen. Where did they go?
“I must confess, Grisha. The business is not doing well. You know the marriage will solidify my position within the industry. Especially with you as magistrate.”
“I will not rush my youngest son into marriage as I did with his brother for the sake of business.” Grisha began, "Your daughter may be ready, but my son is not. There are more things he must learn before I feel satisfied that he can take care of Mikasa and this household when I am gone. If support is what you need—“
“Armin?”
The blonde felt a hand on his shoulder and he gasped, quickly drawing away from the closed curtain and almost stumbling down the steps of the garden. The hand that reached out to him took hold of his arm to steady him. He looked up and was met with familiar mirth-filled green eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“I—I was just…” Armin pause briefly, “ I was just checking to see if you were alright, you were gone an awfully long time and I wanted to finish our game.”
“I was only gone but a moment. Did you miss me that much?” Eren smirked, wrapping an arm around his friend, “I’m flattered."
“Of course not!” Armin shrugged off the boy's arm, turning his reddening face away. He stopped mid-turn, eyes set on the raven haired girl.
“Oh that’s Mikasa. Mikasa-,” He waved the girl over and slinging an arm around Armin again, “Mikasa, this is Armin my right hand man and my bestest friend in the whole of Rome, its republic and the unknown lands thereafter. Armin this is Mikasa.”
“It’s a pleasure of meet you Armin.” The girl smiled, and bowed.
“The pleasure is all mine.” he returned the bow.
“We were just finishing a game of Latrunculi. I had Armin backed into a corner. Isn’t that right, Armin?” Eren gave Armin’s shoulder a slight squeeze and the blonde raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Green eyes seemed to be pleading to him about something. Was Eren trying to...impress her?
“Y-Yes, Eren was besting me at my own game.” Armin testified to Eren’s claim, pointing at the bench where their long forgotten game lay.
Later that evening, as he lay awake in bed, watching Eren sleep soundly beside him, Armin realized that it wasn’t Eren he envied.
Armin was 15 when his grandfather passed away.
He and Eren had just finished a tutor session when Grisha came into the room, face sullen and dark, Carla was by his side, her own face mirroring that of her husband’s. They had asked for privacy with Armin, Eren of course being protective as he was, demanded to know what was wrong and wanted to stay but his father could not oblige him, not this time.
When Armin left the room, after Grisha and Carla he immediately headed into the room he shared with Eren and cried. He hadn’t seen his grandfather since the day he left him in the care of Grisha’s household. His grandfather had promised him that he would return so that they may finally live together but now he was gone. The only family Armin had, was gone. What was he going to do now? How long could he stay at the charity of Grisha and Carla? How much longer before he lost the last person who made him feel like himself. How long until Eren would no longer be his alone?
Armin did not know how long he lay in bed, curled on his side, dull blue eyes staring at the wall, he heard shuffling before he felt the bed dip down behind him and a body curled right around behind him. Strong arms around his waist, pulling him close against a strong chest and a face burying itself in his blonde hair.
“I’m heard about your grandfather, Minny.” Eren whispered, pressing light kisses to the boy’s hair, “I’m sorry."
Armin remained silent, mainly basking in the warmth of the other boy. However, Eren was not satisfied with his silence and made quick work on turning a reluctant Armin around to face him. The boy glanced up, caught in Eren’s green stare like a fly in a spiders web. Eren brushed a stray hair from across his face, tucking it gently behind the ear.
“My grandfather used to be a soldier…” Armin began, relaxing under Eren’s gentle touch. “He would go out and conquer lands far far away in the name of Rome. He would tell me about his adventures, the people and places and things he saw. Things he thought were strange yet beautiful.” Armin sniffled, “I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to him.”
Eren cupped the side of Armin’s face, smiling, "The world is cruel and merciless…but it is also very beautiful. ...Just like you.”
“Is that suppose to be an insult?” Armin asked, a small smile finally cracking across his face.
“Maybe. You are brutal at every game we play.” Eren pointed out.
“Only because it’s easy to get you riled up. I like riling you up sometimes.”
“I’m happy to hear that my misery is your happiness.”
“Heh…” Armin chuckled.
“You deserve all the happiness in the world, Armin. You really do.” Eren said brushing a thumb across his friend’s cheek. Armin basked in the softness of the gesture. “You have given everything and lost so much.”
“I haven’t given very much, Eren. Your father has given me more than I could ever ask or hope for.”
“That’s not true. You’ve given up your entire being to be here, you’ve given my parents the happiness of having another child and of taming me somehow. You’ve given so much to me. You’re my friend, my confidant, my rival, my ally.”
“Shouldn’t Mikasa be all those things to you and more one day?” Armin asked eyes searching Eren’s expression which didn’t waver from an admiring gaze.
“Mikasa is lovely, there is not doubt about that, but she could never replace you. She could never be what you are to me, no matter how many lifetimes we may see. She could never hold a place in my heart like you do, Minny.”
“And what am I to you?”
Eren did not answer him, but the look in those green eyes spoke volumes more than any word man could conjure. And his actions spoke even louder.
Armin stiffened at the touch of Eren’s lips against his own. A little dry but soft and supple. They molded against Armin’s as if they had been made to compliment one another in shape and movement. Eren held him tighter as they kissed and Armin’s hands clutched at the front of the tunic too scared to let go but shaking to the frantic rhythm of his heart.
They shouldn’t be doing this. They should not be doing this.
Armin was already grieving for the loss of his grandfather, he did not know if his heart could take breaking even more after this.
“You are my world, Armin.” Eren murmured against his lips, “And you are too big for me to hold."
Armin is 18 when he loses his 'home’.
He keeps to himself in the corner of the room, away from the festivities…away from Eren’s wedding.
He should have known there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to stop the turning of events. There were laws and rules and traditions that needed to be followed and his love for Eren did not fall under their protection. He watched Eren beside his bride who blushed and smiled at him and it enraged him. It made him sick. He wanted to be up there, sitting beside Eren, receiving the well wishes of his friends, family and acquaintances. He wanted to kiss him, lay with him on their wedding night. He wanted Eren in the way he knew Eren wanted him.
Unfortunately, the gods had other plans.
Armin turned away from the celebration, making a quiet exit. He had already given his own congratulations to Eren and Mikasa earlier so there was no point for him stay any longer and subject himself to twisting the knife deeper into the invisible wound on his heart.
As the blond stepped out into the cool night air, green eyes caught the last wisps of gold across the room.
Armin is 29 when Mikasa dies.
Armin had travelled to Rome shortly after the wedding, working within the senate and teaching the youth to read and write. He and Eren still corresponded with one another, neither bringing up Armin’s mysterious disappearance on the wedding night. Nor did they talk about what they had skirted around ever since they kissed all those years ago.
Eren would write about many things that happened in his daily life such as Mikasa’s swelling belly, His and Zeke’s accomplishments within the military and the people and places they had seen and he would sometimes send gifts fabric, trinkets and jewels that he found to Armin. He talked about the birth of his children, both boys and his father and mother retiring to a quaint villa in the country. In turn, Armin would regale him with tales of senate meetings and behind the scenes discussions, the bright young students he taught and wanted to help rise above their stations, sometimes he would ask Eren for detail descriptions of the lands he saw while in the military or for advice on long term issues, to which Eren always eagerly replied.
However, when he received word of Mikasa’s passing it was in the dead of night, a messenger riding in on the fastest horse Eren had available to deliver the news and bring Armin back.
It took nothing to get Armin to practically fly to Eren and when he arrived the next morning at the home he grew up with the boy he loved, it was nothing but a den of sorrow. Women were wailing in the halls, men were stone faced. Eren called for him and cried for what seems like hours in Armin’s arms. The blonde instructed the house servants to take care of Eren’s sons while he comforted Eren.
Apparently, Mikasa had been sick for a while, complaining of pains in her body and coughing almost nonstop until she started to cough blood. The doctors had given her every treatment they could muster, some helped in her day to day life, others did nothing at all, but none worsened the symptoms. They took her to the temple and prayed for her health but she never got any better. The last few weeks of her life were that of her confined to her bed, too weak and too much in pain. Mikasa was the strongest woman Eren had ever known and she looked to small and frail the weeks leading up to her death.
Hours before she died, she called to speak to her husband privately.
“Eren.” she uttered softly, taking her husband’s hand. “I give you my blessing.”
“Blessing? For what?” Eren cautioned, unsure of what Mikasa was getting at.
“I know you’ve never loved me. Not truly anyway. Your heart has always been elsewhere. I can feel it and I give you my blessing...to finally be with Armin. If it is not too late.”
Eren cried, lamenting the last words of his wife to Armin, the blessings they received from her to be together. However he felt a crippling sense of guilt over her knowing all along about how he had felt and despite all this. she still loved him. Armin stayed silent, running his fingers through Eren’s hair, which had grown long in time. He had noticed that Eren was larger now. He was taller, his body hard and bulked with muscle. His hands and arms were laden with various scars from fights and battles. The years of service in the military would do that do a man and Armin wanted nothing more than to kiss them away.
“You can only honor her by being happy and raising her children. However you may achieve both.” Armin stated, "Celebrate her life, not mourn her passing.”
The next few days appeared taxing on everyone, especially Eren and Armin. Eren greeted relatives and friends who came to mourn his wife. Armin, however took care of any arrangements that needed to be done. Traditionally a large procession and ceremony fitting Eren and Mikasa's status would be ideal but Eren felt something small and simple to celebrate her life would be what Mikasa would have wanted and everyone that knew her agreed.
"Armin..." Eren spoke one evening after the funeral. Armin was to head back to Rome the next day. "Please don't go back to Rome. I...I can't do this on my own. I need you. I need you here with me."
"Eren, I can't." It hurt the blonde just as much to reject Eren as the look of utter defeat that passed across Eren's face. "I have too much going on there already. It would be hard to leave. Right away at least."
"At least set your affairs in order and come here! If not I can pack up, take the children and come to you. Armin, please!" Eren pleaded. "I don't know what to do. Mikasa...Mikasa knew what to do."
"You really loved her didn't you..." Armin croaked and he cleared his throat.
"I loved you both. And you both were too big for me to hold."
Armin stood from his spot on the chaise and went to Eren. He kneeled down before him and took the man's hands in his. He kissed each palm and placed them on either side of his face, "You can hold me just fine."
Armin is 33 when the Lex Poetelia Papiria law was passed.
This abolished contractual form of debt bondage. This freed hundreds of men and women whose person was pledged or had been pledge on the behalf of others as collateral, should they default on their loan.
Armin glanced over at the man next to him, green eyes sharing a knowing look. He took a little boy's hand, as he and the man left the forum after the announcement was made. Armin had once lost his parents, his freedom, his grandfather and his love but throughout it all he had also gained so much more. He finally found home again.