Chapter Text
Branches whiz by you at astronomical speeds, each centimeters from slicing your body. You’re frantically maneuvering between them, zooming through the trees like a wounded bird and scanning for your next route. Wind whips across your face and billows your clothes, the fabric barely held in place by the leather harness roping up your body. In your hands, the ODM hilts click and shift as your fingers operate them with dexterity and anxiety.
Despite your speed, you’re still not quick enough. Somewhere in the trees behind you, the Captain is catching up.
You know he’s getting closer. Beneath the sound of your own wires firing and gas hissing, a duplicate set of noise is gradually increasing in volume. You strain to hear that confirmation of your pursuer, and another wave of terror crashes through you when you notice it’s just a bit louder.
“Fuck,” you whisper, your voice lost in the wind. Wires are fired again, gas is expelled, and you fly forward, but it doesn’t give you any distance from him.
Fleeing like this won’t work forever. At least, not for another twenty minutes. You need to change tactics if you want to win—and you know that—but this vicious bat on your tail is injecting you with fear that smothers any attempt to strategize.
If you can’t outrun him, you’ll hide. It’s your best shot, and maybe it’ll at least buy you a little time.
You aim your next set of wires straight down, then use gravity and gas to plummet to the forest floor. The ground accelerates towards you at a gut-wrenching rate, threatening a gruesome death if you don’t redirect. Anchors are fired above you, gas is expelled, and your descent is rapidly decelerated before you land firmly on the ground. Brimming with adrenaline, you sprint to the nearest trunk and collapse against its base, plastering your back against the bark and shooting your head skyward.
The foliage above is clear of soldiers. Levi’s somewhere, but he’s not close to you. If he is, he’s staying hidden too.
This is incredibly unfair. Escaping humanity’s strongest soldier is next to impossible, but your Captain and Commander act as though the competition is even.
When the regiment began training ten minutes prior, all the soldiers flew to the trees while Erwin and Levi instructed that you stay behind. This ridiculous game was proposed, and the prey took off shortly after while her two hunters allowed her a head-start.
30 minutes. Evade them, and you win. Suffer capture, and you lose. Capture, in this case, means allowing either of them to affix an iron cuff to your wrist. It’s subtle enough to avoid inquisitive glances from the other soldiers—for the most part—but it’s impossible to remove without the key in Erwin’s possession. Both hunters have their own cuff, both given a chance at victory. The rules are simple, but the execution is devastatingly challenging.
Because it’s Levi and Erwin, for pity’s sake. The strongest man within the Walls and the Commander of the Scouts. Two nearly unstoppable forces against one measly soldier.
You’d like to think you’re quick-witted and strong, but this challenge is really testing the limits of your ability.
Sighing, you eye a distant warrior meeting up with a partner high in the trees. They talk, then leap away to go to some other training dummy. All the other Scouts are oblivious to your little game, and it’s best if it stays that way. Two superiors and a subordinate messing around during scheduled training wouldn’t look good on anyone.
Just twenty more minutes. That’s doable, right? You just need to be stealthy.
“Hey! Hey!” The enthusiastic individual that suddenly hollers at you deprives you of that stealth. At the call of your name, you look to see a group of horsemen approaching. Section Commander Hange leads, waving wildly. Among the group, Erwin Smith lurks.
“Fuck,” you mutter as you clamber to your feet.
“You okay?” Hange brings their horse right up beside you, concern painting their expression. “Did you get hurt?”
“No, no. I’m fine.” You try to dismiss them, glancing nervously at Erwin. He’s tall atop his horse, but he’s not making himself known amongst his soldiers. With icy eyes he stares, analyzing your haphazard attempt at retreat.
“You sure?” Hange is oblivious and quizzical, a combination you really don’t need right now.
“Yes, really. I’ll get back to—”
“Actually,” Erwin interrupts. “I want you to join up with Nanaba’s squad. They’re practicing multi-personnel execution techniques, and they need a fifth.”
You clench your teeth. It’s such an excuse, but you can’t call him out on it in front of all these soldiers.
Erwin comes to the front of the squad beside Hange, then dismounts his horse. “They’re deeper in the forest. I’ll take you to them.”
“Um...” It’s a damn death trap, but you can’t escape it. Turning down the Commander’s orders is an extreme form of insubordination, and he’d have every right to discipline you as a subordinate. That goes beyond your intimate relationship, and you’re not willing to be a misbehaving soldier. Not in front of the others, especially.
“Hange, take my horse back to the stables.” Erwin hands off the reins to his Section Commander. “I’ll stay in the woods for a few minutes. Carry on without me.”
“You got it, Erwin.” Hange snatches up the reins, completely clueless to the predicament they’re putting you in. “Stay safe, you two. Let’s get going!” they call to the remaining troops.
“Come on,” Erwin orders, gesturing to the trees. “I’ll lead. Follow me.”
He takes off, flying into the trees. You’re tempted to stay put and disregard his command, but Hange’s squad is still present and spectating. Stalling will look suspicious.
Reluctantly, you fire anchors into the trees and follow the Commander through the woods.
He moves remarkably quick, especially for his size. His ODM skills aren’t usually on display—his time is spent giving orders—but it’s clear he’s a phenomenal aviator when he needs to be. There’s really no subject he lacks in.
With considerably more effort, you catch up to him, retracing his path through the trees. Now, you’re somewhat alone with him. Now, you could maybe escape.
You just need to redirect quickly. One swift turnaround will be enough to abandon him before he notices. Ignoring the path he’s taking, you skim the branches for a good detour.
Suddenly, a crushing force barrels into you, knocking the wind out of your lungs and throwing you off-course. Erwin’s body flies with yours the short distance to a nearby tree branch where he slams your back into the trunk.
“Fuck!” you cry, your feet scrambling to anchor themselves on the branch. He’s shoved a forearm into your chest, pinning you to the tree with just enough height for your toes to barely reach the branch.
“I’m not usually this rough with you,” he notes between several heavy breaths. “I do hope you’re not bruised too severely.”
“Let go.” You see the single cuff gleaming from his inner pocket, and it ignites you to keep fighting. It’s just one half of a pair of handcuffs, utterly useless except as a signal that you failed. If that coil gets attached to you, it’s over.
“Offer your wrist now, if you’d like to make this simple.” He cushions his hilt against his palm and reaches into his jacket.
“Absolutely not.” It’s bold, but you commit to attacking him relentlessly and drive a knee up into his waist, utilizing years of hand-to-hand combat training against him.
He’s just barely jostled, but he reactively presses into you harder. You take his wrist in one hand and the crook of his arm in the other, then you fiercely twist the limb and free yourself from its pin. You dodge the hand he reaches out, tear your body away from his, and leap off the branch. “Sorry, Commander!”
You’re rapidly descending for a few seconds before you fire anchors and zip into the trees, away from Erwin. You stay agile and quick, but you don’t hear him following you.
Alone and flying through the woods, you plot your next escape tactic. Soldiers are still busy around you, none witness to the Commander attacking his subordinate.
Hopefully.
It’s a risky game to play, the rules aside. The danger of unassuming onlookers witnessing your battle with your officers is a stinging addition to this gambit.
You can’t find Nanaba’s group, but you’re not too dedicated to joining them anyways. They likely don’t need you, and they’re not wondering where you are. Ignoring any notion of actually training, you continue weaving through trunks and branches as you stay vigilant for your hunters.
After a few minutes of aimlessly flying, you come to a halt against the enormous trunk of a tree, situating your hooks in the bark and affixing your feet against the surface. You need to rest if you want to survive the remaining time.
Distal sounds of wires zipping and gas firing fill the air, dozens of aviators swarming the trees. You catch the occasional glimpse of a zooming soldiers amongst the branches, but nobody pays any attention to you. For the best, certainly. The less attention you draw to yourself, the better.
Above you, below you, and to your sides, the woods are free of hunters. Neither Erwin nor Levi are present, and the notion both soothes and frightens you. You want to know where they are, but you simultaneously want to avoid running into them.
Your legs ache, yearning for relief, and you comply by dropping down to a massive branch. The metal hooks reel back into the casing, clinking against the metal sheathes. You want to sit and relax, but the mission at hand prevents such a luxury.
The grounds below you only have a few wandering horsemen, and the trees around you sway in the whispering wind that coincides with hissing gas in the distance. You skim the branches, stuck in the unusual certainty of this tense isolation.
“Above you, idiot.”
Your head snaps skyward and your body freezes up upon the sight of Levi perched high overhead, affixed to the same tree you’re stationed on. “Fuck, Levi!”
He shoots to the branch before you can move, slamming onto the wood and reeling his anchors in. You’re already scrambling to position your hilts and take off, but he begins stalking towards you with a fierce shaking of his head.
“Don’t fucking move. It won’t get you anywhere.”
You cower back against the tree trunk, your footing unsteady and frantic. “You—how the hell did you find me?”
“Tch. You think I lost you in the first place?”
Your eyes widen as you realize this horrifying truth, this extreme demonstration of his unbeatable ability. He’s been on your trail this entire time, perhaps allowing Erwin to have some fun with you before he returned to the ring. “That’s fucking unbelievable,” you whisper.
“You can’t outrun me, brat.” He slips one of his hilts into its holster, then reaches a hand into his jacket. “Nor can you wear me out. You know this is a losing battle, don’t you?”
“That’s—no, it’s not.” You squeeze your hilts, hoping to slip off the branch and flee before he attacks. “I’ll win this—”
“Fat fucking chance.” Withdrawing his duplicate cuff, he thumbs the closed clasp of the loop. “You’re going to lose right now. Too bad, too. I’m sure Erwin wishes to be the one that captures you.”
He darts at you, and the world seems to freeze. You’re not going to escape before he’s upon you—you’re not quick enough. There’s one alternative, and that’s to fight back.
You’re geared up for training, dressed to slay Titans. You have weapons, and they’ll give you an advantage against this otherwise unstoppable god.
Accepting the danger and praying for both his safety and yours, you thrust a hilt into one of the blades in your sheath and withdraw the sword, pointing it at the Captain that suddenly halts.
Levi’s stiff, his neck centimeters from the tip of your blade. He’s still as he processes this new obstacle, startled and strategizing.
You swallow, reluctant even now. You don’t want to actually hurt Levi, nor slice him up in any way, but you need a deterrent against a man you can’t beat on even territory. A blade makes him hesitate, which is precisely what will benefit you.
Still, this is unexplored territory, and it’s dangerous. You both are qualified soldiers, certainly, but this takes a risk and introduces new hazards to your play. Literal swords are drastic, and you accept the consequence of acting before discussing.
“I’ll put it back if you safeword,” you say, anxious to make sure he’s comfortable with this addition.
“Tch.” He glances down at the gleaming steel running up to his chin. “I don’t need to safeword. This is fine.”
“Certain?” Your arm is taut, your fingers tightly gripping the hilt.
“You think I’m scared of a damn sword?” He cocks his head, unbothered by the blade threatening his head. “Just try and cut me. You won’t get close.”
That challenge is far too daunting. You cringe, hesitation roping up your muscles and weakening your determination. “I—I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”
“You won’t get close.” He swiftly withdraws his own blade and slaps it against yours, leveling the field. “You’re good, but not that good. You won’t beat me in a duel.”
“F-fuck.” You stave off an unexpected slash he aims at you, suddenly submerged in this alarming battle.
“Come on, I saw you training with Gelgar last week. Can’t handle a little swordfight?” His blade is in one hand and his cuff in the other, the soldier ready to fight until you submit.
Finding your footing, you reposition your stance to fend off further attacks. Your sword is angled and in front of your torso, protecting your body. “You—are you going to cut me?”
“No.” He rolls his wrist, the sword whirling in the air with it. “If you don’t trust me, safeword.”
You parry his next slash, and his next. You’re cornered against the trunk, stuck in this fight until you find a solution. He’s talented, and you believe in that talent enough to trust that he won’t hurt you. Still, he’s relentless in his assault and he’s giving you next to no chance to think.
You could withdraw your other sword. After all, his other hand is full with the cuff, so he can’t wield two swords against you.
The cuff. That damn cuff will actually be your savior, if you’re agile enough. You brace for another attack and plot your maneuvers.
Levi swipes and slices at you, stopped only by your swift deflections. He’s pushing you into the tree trunk, slowly turning the battle in his favor. “Brat,” he grunts as he swings his blade towards your neck, the sword colliding with yours and emitting a grating, metallic swish. “I’m done playing with you. This shit is over with.”
“It—”
He thrusts his blade into the trunk centimeters from your face, impaling the tree and startling you into silence. Your mind operates for just long enough to subtly retaliate, your single movement minuscule enough to avoid his attention.
“Come on, whimper a little. I like that look when you know you’ve lost.”
You ignore his comment, instead readying your blade while keeping it calmly at your side.
Levi attempts to move his hand that holds the cuff, but he’s stunned when it doesn’t do so. He glances down at the loop, which has been perfectly lanced by your blade.
You act before he can think. In one sharp motion, you swipe your sword away from his body and wrench the loop out of his grasp, flinging the iron circle away from both of you and sending it flying to the forest floor below. Beaming with victorious delight, you expel a cheeky laugh.
“Well, that’s too bad,” you sneer. “Go fetch, doggie.”
Levi explodes with anger as he rips his sword out of the tree. “Damn bitch.” He ferociously drives the flat of his blade up your chest and forces the tip to your chin, pinning you to the trunk with your chin jerked up as the weapon threatens torment.
You shut up and press the rear of your skull into the tree, avoiding the sword that’s hugging your torso and prickling just under your jaw, dangerously close to genuine harm. You trust him, and you want to trust him enough to avoid truly hurting you.
“Say that again,” he seethes, his entire frame poised to support his blade. “I fucking dare you.”
Your lips press shut, your frame trembling as you swallow thickly. You can’t tell how close the blade is to your jaw, and you don’t want to find out by attempting to speak.
“Got nothing to say?” he taunts. “I didn’t think so. You’ll regret that disrespect once this game is over. I’ll win and punish the hell out of you.”
Your frame is pulled forward just a centimeter by a tug on the harness hugging your torso. That tug comes from Levi’s blade, which had nimbly slipped under the strap running horizontally across your chest. You didn’t even notice this invasion of your harness, Levi far more stealthy than you are. “Nn—Levi,” you say through clenched teeth.
“I need to go retrieve that damn cuff.” He slides the blade down a few centimeters. “You’re going to stay right here.”
“I don’t think so,” you whisper, bouncing between terror and arrogance.
“I do.” With a quick swipe, he slices through the leather of your strap and steps back.
“Ah—wait!” You feel the belts of your harness slacken as their main connection point is severed, the leather now loose on your frame. The sheaths sag from your hips, about to slip off without a functional harness to keep them affixed to you. “Dammit, Levi!” you curse as you grasp the drooping straps.
“I’ll be back,” he says before leaping off the branch, plummeting out of view.
“Dammit.” You sheath your blade and holster your hilts, standing uselessly in the defunct gear. You’re literally stuck in the trees without ODM gear, trapped until someone comes to retrieve you.
As a soldier, you remain efficient. You swiftly detach the clasps that connect your sheathes and gas mechanism to your harness, freeing yourself of the heavy machinery. Abandoning the gear, you dart to the edge of the branch and search the ground below, looking for Levi or anybody else.
Levi’s not in view, but a tall, looming frame with shaggy blond hair is wandering the forest floor alone. It’s Miche, and he’s scanning the area furtively like he’s looking for something important. He’ll have to do.
“Section Commander!” you scream to the man, praying your voice carries the dozens of meters to his ears. He perks up and looks to you, noticing one of his soldiers high in the trees. You wave frantically, then beckon at him wildly.
He takes off, ascending amongst the branches with his ODM gear. He’s quick, like Levi, and he lands on your branch within a few seconds and minimal effort.
“Section Commander,” you breathe, struck with unusual embarrassment. You clutch your destroyed chest strap, feeling naked before the leader that looks you over with an unrevealing expression.
He’s silent, not even greeting you and simply waiting for an explanation.
You glance back at your gear, admittedly avoiding his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. My harness ripped. I...um, I can’t get down.” You can’t tell him the truth—confidentiality is required between you and your two hunters. You need external help, but you can’t explain the true reasoning for your plight.
Miche steps closer, seemingly increasing in size as he nears you. “Let me see,” he commands, extending an open hand to you.
You shyly withdraw your hands from your strap, allowing him to take one sliced end of the leather. He pinches the strap and turns it in the light, examining the blunt laceration.
“A rather clean cut,” he comments.
You clench your teeth, caught in a deceitful web. What are you supposed to say to that? You can’t tell the truth and expose what you and Levi are up to, but right now there’s hardly any other way to explain how it got torn.
“I need to get back to camp.” You attempt to change topics, drawing attention away from the problem and instead pointing out the needed solution. “Can you...um, help me?”
“Yes.” He abandons the leather, whipping around and dropping onto a knee. “On.”
You leap onto his back, familiar with the procedure of helping a disabled soldier. It’s happened enough times—you being on either end of the exchange—to make discomfort obsolete, but even now there’s a strange excitement found in clinging to Miche’s enormous body.
When he stands and jumps, you catch a glimpse of Levi eyeing you from a distant tree before your blond carrier careens to the ground, away from the Captain. The Section Commander flies lower to the forest floor, zipping between the base of the trunks with amazing speed that’s undeterred by the passenger on his back.
In less than a minute, you and Miche arrive at the settlement of tents that serve as a temporary base, the shoddy constructions teeming with soldiers.
“Thank you,” you say as you climb off his back. “I’ll go get a new harness. I appreciate your help.”
“Come to me if you need anything. I’ll stay nearby.” He leaves about as swiftly as he arrived, already finding other subordinates to check on.
Relieved of the suspicious leader, you weave through camp and make your way to the supply tent, anxious to rearm yourself before either hunter finds you.
You fling open the flap of the tent and step inside, already stripping off your harness. One glance around the room reveals a group of soldiers working on organizing supplies, Erwin among them.
“Fuck,” you curse as you almost immediately begin backtracking.
“Ah, good.” Erwin speaks up, already noticing you. “I was looking for you.”
You huff as duty commands you to halt, the soldiers around Erwin watching the newcomer like vultures. “I know you were,” you mutter under your breath, begrudgingly staying in the tent.
“Oh, your harness.” Erwin drifts around the group, approaching you. “Did something happen in the forest?”
“No—well, yes. I’m sorry, Commander. It...tore.” You’re sneaking glances all over his frame, searching for the cuff that must be on his person somewhere. “I’m going—I was just going to discard the defective harness. I was headed to the clearing for combat training anyways.”
“I believe you’re still stationed under Nanaba,” he says flatly. “You’ll need ODM gear straight away so you can rejoin them.”
“N-no, I—”
“No?”
You stiffen, burning with embarrassment as the audience spectates. You don’t say no to the Commander, not unless you want the utmost regimental punishment. This crowd is wondering why you’re being so resistant, and if you keep up the defiance it’ll look terrible on you.
“I’m sorry, Commander. I’ll take a new set of gear.”
“For the best,” he murmurs as he heads past you, teasingly allowing you to remain uncaptured.
When he leaves, the soldiers return to their duties and largely ignore you. You shuffle deeper into the tent and strip off your harness, dropping the coiling snakes off your limbs. You dispense it in a crate, then, once you’re certain nobody is paying attention, you slip right back outside without bothering to get new gear.
You don’t have much time left, after all. Surely you can survive the remaining minutes on foot.
So, you leave camp and run back into the woods. Erwin is at camp, and if he sees you without a harness he’ll have every right to chastise you as Commander. To avoid that dilemma, you plan retreat in the forest until time is up. Unfortunately there’s no time-keeping device to give you an exact decree of when you’re finished, but it should be any minute. Hopefully one of your two pursuers will alert you when the chase is up.
Far from earshot of camp, you cram against a tree base and become as small as possible, praying you’re actually alone this time.
You should know better, though.
“Are you trying to make yourself more vulnerable?” Above, Levi’s wry voice sounds from his perch atop a branch. “Scurrying into the woods with no ODM gear? Really?”
You scramble to your feet, shuddering at the sight of him.
He leaps to the ground, landing firmly with no shock to his body. His blades are stored and his hilts are holstered, but he’s ready to retrieve either at a moment’s notice. “You’re not running away from me now. Damn Miche really came to your rescue, didn’t he?”
“He did,” you mumble. “He was doing his duty as a responsible leader. Take notes, Captain.”
“Shut up,” Levi spits. “You’re so fucked once I get this cuff on you.”
“Found it, did you?” You’re terrified, but your tongue still has enough pomposity to fire out snide remarks. “How long did that take?”
Levi scoffs as he whips the iron bracelet out. “Enough.” He sprints towards you, ready to fight.
You outmaneuver his attempt to pin you, frantically dodging the Captain with scrappy muscle memory. He snatches your wrist, but you twist your limb out of his grasp. He attempts to trip your ankles, but you dart away from him in time. This repetition of attack and defense continues with you just barely succeeding against him.
The time left is unknown, but you can’t bet on the fact that it’ll be soon. You need to escape him to delay just a bit longer.
After a masterful deflection, you kick a foot into his abs before sprinting. Your feet are as rapid as gunfire as they carry you away from your opponent, crashing against the dirt ground with pounding steps.
“Brat,” he hisses in your wake.
His footsteps are heard beneath yours, along with the rattle of the gear on his hips. Maybe that weight will slow him down slightly, though such a hope quickly wanes as his volume crescendos.
You nail one foot into the ground and swing your other with the momentum of your shift in direction, sending it flying into the Captain that just came upon you. He blocks it before it connects with his temple, grabbing your ankle with crushing fingers.
“A-ah—fuck!” you cry as he yanks you towards him, your stability completely toppled. You awkwardly crumble to the ground with your body hanging from his hand, your spine curled in against the dirt.
“Easy enough.” Levi unlatches the clasp of his cuff with one hand.
Surging with terrified adrenaline, you grasp the forest floor around you and ram your free foot into his thigh, perfectly brutalizing his frame. He drops you and stumbles back, scoffing to himself.
“This is damn stupid,” he seems to say to somebody besides you, though there’s nobody present.
You scramble to your feet, but freeze when you hear hissing wires overhead. A witness to your battle with the Captain is undesirable.
For better or worse, the aviator is Erwin. He hovers overhead for a few moments before descending, landing several meters away from you like a flourishing eagle. Pinched between the two leaders, you pray that the time limit is soon to be reached. It’s about your only saving grace at this point.
“Commander.” You backpedal, then halt. They both have gear, and you don’t. Erwin’s stalking towards you with the intent to capture and you’re running out of options to escape.
Your legs suddenly buckle as Levi kicks into the crook of your knee, forcing you to the ground easily. He darts to your side and pins a foot in that crook, then grabs your wrist and yanks it up with both hands.
“Here,” he says as he presents your wrist to Erwin. “You can have the honors of cuffing her yourself, if you want.”
Erwin runs his thumb over your fingers, pressing it into your palm.
“No, no,” you fire out, squirming in Levi’s iron grip. “Let go.”
Erwin sighs deeply as he lightly interlaces his fingers with yours. “That would certainly be nice,” he says while reaching into his jacket.
You writhe in frantic fury, trying to wrest your arm free of Levi until you see what object Erwin has retrieved.
It’s not a cuff; it’s a pocket watch.
“But alas: we’re two minutes overtime. It’s too late.” Erwin shows the watch to Levi, who tsks in annoyance.
“What?” You perk up as Levi drops your wrist and steps back. “We’re finished?”
“Indeed.” Erwin offers a hand that you eventually take, helping you to your feet. “It’s two minutes past 10, and you’re still a free woman. Well done.”
“Fucking congratulations,” Levi mutters.
“Levi.” Erwin gives a small shake of his head, and Levi drops his bitter tone.
“Good work,” Levi corrects, squeezing your shoulder. “You did decently.”
“I won?” You eye the hand Levi has on you, noticing how it’s decommissioned as a weapon.
“You did,” Erwin affirms. “And as we promised, you’ll be rewarded.”
“I will?” You sound like a dumbfounded child, but the shock of the situation is still settling in.
“Certainly.” Erwin runs an acquiescent hand along your back, easily playing a proud loser. “For now, we need to get back to camp and wrap up training. I still have a regiment to dismiss.”
“Come on, winner. I’ll get us a carriage.” Levi nudges you on his exit, skulking away.
Erwin watches the man leave. “Go with the Captain. I’ll meet up with you two at my house.”
“Certainly, Erwin.” You turn on your heels, already churning with excitement. “I’ll see you then.”