บท 20: The 13-year curse
In the grand military conference room, the air was thick with tension as the leaders of the various branches debated the fate of the information contained within Grisha Yeager's books. The revelation that the world beyond the walls was not only populated by humans but that those humans were enemies of the people within the walls had sent shockwaves through the military hierarchy.
Commander Nile Dok of the Military Police stood, his face set in a grim expression as he addressed the gathered officials. "Revealing this information to the public would be a mistake," he argued, his voice firm and unyielding. "It would only serve to generate panic and chaos within the walls. We cannot afford to destabilize our society, not now, not when we face such an uncertain future."
Commander Dot Pixis of the Garrison Regiment leaned forward, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he considered Nile's words. "While I understand your concerns, Commander Dok," he said, his voice calm and measured, "I cannot in good conscience support the idea of keeping our people in the dark. To do so would make us no better than the late King Reiss, who chose to maintain his power through ignorance and fear."
Queen Historia Reiss sat at the head of the table, her delicate features set in a thoughtful expression as she listened to the arguments on both sides. Finally, she spoke, her voice ringing with a quiet authority that belied her youth and inexperience.
"I have made my decision," she said, her blue eyes scanning the faces of the assembled military leaders. "The information contained within Grisha Yeager's books will be made available to the public. We are all in this together, and we must face our fate as one. Only by working together, by sharing our knowledge and our resources, can we hope to survive the challenges that lie ahead."
Director Aaron Mustang, who had been sitting silently throughout the debate, leaned back in his chair, a small, resigned smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Honestly, I would prefer to keep this information a secret," he said, his voice low and contemplative. "But if this is the will of my Queen, then I will accept it without question."
Commander Nile Dok nodded, his expression one of grim determination. "If this is the path that Director Mustang has chosen, then the Military Police will follow," he said, his voice firm and resolute. "We trust in his judgment, and in the wisdom of our Queen."
Hange Zoë, the newly appointed Commander of the Survey Corps, stood, her eyes gleaming with excitement behind her glasses. "I will ensure that the newspapers are informed of this decision immediately," she said, her voice bubbling with barely contained enthusiasm. "The people have a right to know the truth, and we must do everything in our power to prepare them for the challenges that lie ahead."
As the meeting began to break up, Aaron Mustang rose to his feet, his tall, muscular frame unfolding with a fluid grace that belied his years of military training. Hange turned to him, her expression one of barely contained excitement.
"By the way, Director Mustang," she said, her voice almost trembling with anticipation, "I was hoping to secure your authorization for an expedition beyond the walls. It's been six years since the first attack of the Colossal Titan, and we finally have the opportunity to explore the world beyond our borders."
Aaron waved his hand dismissively, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You know that the Survey Corps doesn't require my permission, Hange," he said, his voice light and teasing. "Do as you see fit. I trust in your judgment."
Commander Pixis raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild surprise. "Favoritism, Director Mustang?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of reproach.
Aaron's smile widened, his emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "No, Commander Pixis," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "It's simply that the Survey Corps is the only faction that truly knows how to do its job. I have no doubt that they will conduct themselves with the utmost professionalism and dedication, no matter what challenges they may face beyond the walls."
Commander-in-Chief Zackly leaned forward, his expression one of grim determination. "Director Mustang," he said, his voice low and serious, "I must ask you a question. Now that you have the ability to transform into a Titan, where do your loyalties lie? Are you an ally of humanity, or an enemy?"
Aaron's smile faded, his expression growing serious as he met Zackly's gaze. "I am an ally of my Queen," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "Everything else is secondary. My loyalty, my devotion, my very life belongs to her, and to the people she has sworn to protect. I will do whatever it takes to ensure her safety and the safety of those within these walls."
With that, Aaron turned on his heel and strode from the room, his long, dark coat billowing behind him as he disappeared into the shadows of the hallway beyond.
Queen Historia rose to her feet, her expression one of mild embarrassment as she looked around at the assembled military leaders. "I apologize for Director Mustang's behavior," she said, her voice soft and apologetic. "I will speak with him later and ensure that he understands the importance of respectful discourse, even in the face of disagreement."
As Aaron Mustang strode through the winding corridors of the military headquarters, his mind still reeling from the revelations of the meeting, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The decision to reveal the truth about the world beyond the walls was a momentous one, and he knew that it would change everything. But there was something else, a nagging sense of unease that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice the small, shadowy figure leaning against the wall ahead of him until he was nearly upon it. As he drew closer, the figure resolved itself into the familiar form of Captain Levi, his sharp, angular features set in a grim expression.
"Oi, Mustang," Levi called out, his voice flat and unimpressed. "You look like shit. What's eating you?"
Aaron let out a snort of laughter, his lips curling into a wry smile as he fell into step beside his old mentor. "Just the usual existential dread, shorty," he quipped, his emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, the fate of humanity resting on our shoulders, the weight of the world crushing us down, that sort of thing."
Levi rolled his eyes, his expression one of long-suffering exasperation. "Tch. Drama queen," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anyway, I've got some info you might want to hear."
Aaron raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued by the urgency in Levi's tone. "Oh? Do tell, oh wise and mighty midget."
Levi shot him a glare that could have melted steel, but there was no real heat behind it. "Watch it, brat," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I can still kick your ass from here to Wall Maria and back."
Aaron held up his hands in mock surrender, a grin spreading across his face. "Alright, alright, I yield," he said, his voice filled with barely contained laughter. "What's the scoop, Levi?"
Levi's expression grew serious, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer to Aaron. "There's this marquis, some pompous asshole who's been blocking investments in the Underground," he said, his voice tight with barely contained anger. "Thinks it'll lead to a crisis or some shit. He's got a meeting with the Queen tomorrow, probably to spew more of his bullshit."
Aaron's eyes flashed with a cold, ruthless light, his grin turning sharp and predatory. "Is that so?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Well, we can't have that, now can we? Looks like I'll be paying this marquis a little visit before his big day with the Queen."
Levi nodded, a small, satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Thought you might say that," he said, his voice filled with a quiet approval. "Just don't make too much of a mess, yeah? I don't want to have to clean up after your sorry ass again."
Aaron let out a bark of laughter, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "Aww, you do care," he teased, his voice filled with mock affection. "Don't worry, shorty, I'll be a good boy. Mostly."
Levi shook his head, a hint of fondness creeping into his expression despite himself. "Why do I put up with you again?" he muttered, his voice low and long-suffering.
Aaron grinned, slinging an arm around Levi's shoulders and pulling him in close. "Because you love me, obviously," he said, his voice filled with a playful warmth. "I'm the brother you never wanted, the pain in your ass you can't live without."
Levi let out a snort of laughter, pushing Aaron away with a halfhearted shove. "Brother? More like the annoying kid who won't stop following me around," he grumbled, but there was no real bite to his words.
Aaron clutched at his heart, his expression one of mock hurt. "You wound me, Levi," he said, his voice filled with exaggerated sorrow. "And after all we've been through together. The battles, the bloodshed, the countless times I've saved your tiny ass from certain doom."
Levi rolled his eyes, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Tch. Drama queen," he repeated, but there was a hint of affection in his voice that belied his gruff exterior.
Meanwhile, back in the conference room, Commander-in-Chief Zackly was leaning over the Queen, his expression one of barely contained fury as he berated her for the behavior of her fiancé.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and threatening, "I must protest the way that Director Mustang conducted himself in this meeting. His lack of respect for the chain of command, his blatant favoritism towards the Survey Corps, his arrogant dismissal of the concerns of the other branches... it is simply unacceptable."
Historia met his gaze, her blue eyes filled with a quiet strength and determination that belied her delicate features. "I understand your concerns, Commander-in-Chief," she said, her voice calm and measured. "And I assure you that I will speak with Director Mustang about his behavior. He is a passionate man, and sometimes that passion can lead him to speak out of turn. But I have no doubt that his heart is in the right place, and that he will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety and prosperity of our people."
Zackly's expression twisted with anger, his fists clenching at his sides as he leaned in closer to the young Queen. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and menacing, "I must remind you that Director Mustang is not above the law. He may be your fiancé, but he is still a member of the military, and he is still subject to the same rules and regulations as the rest of us. If he continues to flout the chain of command, to act as though he is above reproach, then I will have no choice but to take disciplinary action against him."
Historia's eyes flashed with a hint of steel, her delicate features hardening into a mask of regal authority. "Commander-in-Chief Zackly," she said, her voice ringing with a quiet power that seemed to fill the room. "I understand your position, and I respect your authority. But I must also remind you that Director Mustang is not just a member of the military, but a hero of humanity. He has risked his life countless times to protect the people within these walls, and he has earned the trust and respect of those who serve under him. If you take action against him without just cause, you risk undermining the very foundation of our society, the trust and loyalty that binds us together in the face of our common enemy."
Zackly's expression faltered, his anger giving way to a grudging respect as he met the Queen's unwavering gaze. "I... I understand, Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and subdued. "I will take your words under advisement, and I will do my best to work with Director Mustang to ensure that we are all operating in the best interests of humanity."
Historia nodded, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Commander-in-Chief," she said, her voice soft and sincere. "I know that we are all in this together, and that we must stand united if we are to have any hope of surviving the challenges that lie ahead. I have faith in you, and in all of the brave men and women who serve under your command. Together, we will build a brighter future for all of humanity, no matter the obstacles that stand in our way."
.....
As Aaron Mustang approached the grand estate of the marquis, his emerald eyes glinted with a cold, ruthless light. He knew that the man waiting for him inside was a formidable opponent, a shrewd politician with a silver tongue and a mind as sharp as a razor's edge. But Aaron was not one to be intimidated, and he strode forward with a confidence born of years of experience in the cutthroat world of military politics.
The guards at the gate trembled as he passed, their eyes wide with fear and awe. They knew who he was, of course - the Unruly Stallion, the Queen's fiancé, the man who had single-handedly brought the nobility to its knees. And they knew that to stand in his way was to court death itself.
Aaron paid them no mind, his long strides carrying him swiftly through the ornate halls of the marquis' estate. He could feel the weight of the man's presence long before he saw him, a palpable aura of power and influence that seemed to permeate the very air around him.
As he entered the sitting room, the marquis rose to greet him, his face a mask of polite charm and calculated indifference. "Director Mustang," he said, his voice smooth and cultured. "I've been expecting you."
Aaron inclined his head, a small, predatory smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Marquis," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. "I believe we have some business to discuss."
The marquis gestured to a plush armchair, his expression one of cool invitation. "Please, sit," he said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "I'm sure we can come to an understanding."
Aaron settled into the chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes never leaving the marquis' face. "I'll cut to the chase," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I've been informed that you've been blocking investments in the Underground. Care to explain yourself?"
The marquis leaned back in his own chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he regarded Aaron with a calculating gaze. "It's quite simple, really," he said, his voice filled with a patronizing edge. "Investing in the Underground is a risky proposition, one that could lead to economic instability and social unrest. As a member of the nobility, it is my duty to protect the interests of the people, even if that means making difficult decisions."
Aaron's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a snarl of disgust. "Protect the interests of the people?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Don't make me laugh. You and your ilk have been bleeding the people dry for generations, hoarding wealth and power while the masses starve in the streets. And now, when we finally have a chance to make a real difference, to invest in the future of humanity, you have the audacity to stand in our way?"
The marquis' expression hardened, his eyes flashing with a hint of steel. "I understand your passion, Director Mustang," he said, his voice low and measured. "But passion alone will not feed the hungry or clothe the poor. We must be practical, we must be cautious. To rush headlong into such a venture without proper planning and preparation would be foolhardy at best, and catastrophic at worst."
Aaron leaned forward, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "And what would you know of the hungry and the poor?" he growled, his voice filled with a barely contained rage. "When was the last time you set foot in the Underground, marquis? When was the last time you looked into the eyes of a starving child and saw the desperation, the hopelessness that comes from a lifetime of poverty and neglect?"
The marquis was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he began to nod, a look of grudging respect creeping into his eyes. "You make a fair point, Director Mustang," he said, his voice filled with a quiet acknowledgment. "Perhaps I have been too quick to dismiss the potential benefits of investment in the Underground. But I still have concerns, valid concerns that cannot be ignored."
Aaron sat back in his chair, his anger cooling as he regarded the marquis with a newfound sense of understanding. "I'm listening," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity.
The marquis leaned forward, his expression one of grave concern. "The Underground is a breeding ground for crime and corruption," he said, his voice low and serious. "To pour money into such a place without proper oversight and control would be to invite chaos and anarchy. We must be careful, we must be strategic. We cannot simply throw money at the problem and hope for the best."
Aaron was silent for a long moment, his mind racing as he considered the marquis' words. As much as he hated to admit it, the man had a point. The Underground was a complex and dangerous place, a web of competing interests and hidden agendas that could not be untangled with money alone.
"What do you propose, then?" he asked, his voice filled with a quiet curiosity.
The marquis leaned back in his chair, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A joint venture," he said, his voice filled with a quiet confidence. "A partnership between the nobility and the military, one that would allow us to invest in the Underground while still maintaining proper oversight and control. We could establish a board of trustees, a group of individuals from both sides who would be responsible for managing the funds and ensuring that they are used for the benefit of the people."
Aaron's eyes widened, a look of surprise and grudging admiration creeping into his expression. "That... could work," he said, his voice filled with a quiet contemplation. "But it would require a great deal of trust and cooperation on both sides. The nobility and the military have not always seen eye to eye on such matters."
The marquis nodded, his expression one of grave understanding. "I know," he said, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. "But if we are to move forward as a society, if we are to build a better future for all of humanity, we must learn to put aside our differences and work together towards a common goal. It will not be easy, but it is necessary."
Aaron was silent for a long moment, his mind racing as he considered the marquis' proposal. It was a risk, he knew, a gamble that could either pay off in spades or blow up in their faces. But it was also an opportunity, a chance to make a real difference in the lives of the people he had sworn to protect.
"Alright," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "I'll take your proposal to the Queen. But let me make one thing clear, marquis. If this venture fails, if the people of the Underground continue to suffer while the nobility lines their pockets, I will hold you personally responsible. And I will not hesitate to bring the full weight of the military down upon your head."
The marquis' expression hardened, his eyes flashing with a hint of fear. But he nodded, his voice filled with a quiet acceptance. "I understand, Director Mustang," he said, his voice low and serious. "I will not let you down."
Aaron rose to his feet, his long coat swirling around him as he turned to leave. "See that you don't," he said, his voice filled with a quiet warning. "The fate of humanity rests on our shoulders, marquis. We cannot afford to fail."
As he strode from the room, his mind still reeling with the implications of the marquis' proposal, Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that he had just made a deal with the devil. But he also knew that it was a necessary evil, a price that had to be paid if they were to have any hope of building a better future for all of humanity.
Miles away, in the peaceful fields of the Queen's farm, Historia sat beside Thomas, her blue eyes filled with a quiet contemplation. The young farmer had been a constant presence in her life since the end of the war, a faithful friend and confidant who had stood by her side through thick and thin.
"Your Majesty," Thomas said, his voice filled with a quiet hesitation. "May I ask you a question?"
Historia turned to him, her expression one of gentle encouragement. "Of course, Thomas," she said, her voice filled with a warm affection. "You know you can always speak freely with me."
Thomas took a deep breath, his eyes filled with a nervous anticipation. "I was just wondering," he said, his voice low and serious. "When do you think you and Director Mustang will be getting married? It's just... it's been so long since the engagement was announced, and people are starting to talk..."
Historia's expression softened, a small, sad smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I know," she said, her voice filled with a quiet resignation. "But Aaron is a busy man, Thomas. He has so many responsibilities, so many demands on his time. And with the world the way it is now, with so much uncertainty and danger lurking around every corner... I'm not sure if now is the right time for a wedding."
Thomas nodded, his expression one of grave understanding. "I know," he said, his voice filled with a quiet sympathy. "But... forgive me for saying so, Your Majesty, but... Director Mustang is not a man who likes to wait. When he sets his mind to something, he sees it through, no matter the cost. And I know that he loves you, more than anything in this world. Surely he would want to make things official, to pledge his heart and his life to you in front of all of humanity?"
Historia was silent for a long moment, her eyes distant and filled with a quiet longing. "I hope so, Thomas," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I hope so with all my heart. But... I also know that Aaron has a duty to humanity, a responsibility that goes beyond his own desires. And I would never ask him to choose between that duty and his love for me."
Thomas reached out, his hand resting gently on Historia's arm in a gesture of quiet comfort. "He shouldn't have to choose, Your Majesty," he said, his voice filled with a fierce conviction. "He should be able to have both, to serve humanity and to love you with all his heart. And I believe that he can, that he will. Because he is Aaron Mustang, the Unruly Stallion, the man who would move heaven and earth to keep you safe and happy."
Historia smiled, her eyes filled with a soft, gentle light. "Thank you, Thomas," she said, her voice filled with a quiet gratitude. "Your words give me hope, more than you know."
...
The days seemed to blur together as Aaron Mustang found himself consumed by the demands of his work. From dawn until dusk, he was a constant presence in the halls of power, his emerald eyes sharp and focused as he navigated the treacherous waters of military politics and courtly intrigue.
But as the weeks wore on, Historia began to feel the weight of his absence, a dull ache in her heart that grew with each passing day. She understood the importance of his work, the vital role he played in shaping the future of their world. But still, she couldn't help but long for the moments they had once shared, the quiet intimacy of stolen kisses and whispered promises.
On the rare occasions when they found themselves alone together, the air crackling with a tension that was almost palpable, it seemed that fate conspired against them. A knock at the door, an urgent message from the front lines, a crisis that demanded Aaron's immediate attention - always, something came between them, pulling him away from her just when she needed him most.
Historia tried to be understanding, to be patient and supportive. But as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, she began to feel a creeping sense of despair, a fear that the man she loved was slipping away from her, consumed by a duty that would always come first.
It was during one of these long, lonely stretches that the Survey Corps returned from their latest expedition, their faces grim and their eyes haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. They requested an immediate audience with the Queen, a matter of utmost urgency that could not wait.
As Historia sat upon her throne, her blue eyes fixed upon the haggard faces of the soldiers before her, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. And when they began to speak, their voices low and urgent, she felt a chill run down her spine.
"Your Majesty," Hange said, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. "We have found the sea, just as Grisha Yeager's book described. And on its shores, we discovered the remnants of an ancient port, a gateway to a world we never knew existed."
Historia's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the implications of Hange's words. But before she could respond, Aaron's voice cut through the stillness, his tone sharp and commanding.
"This is it," he said, his emerald eyes blazing with a fierce determination. "This is the moment we've been waiting for. Marley will come for us, sooner rather than later. We must be ready."
He turned to Hange, his expression one of grim resolve. "We need to take prisoners," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to gather intelligence, to learn everything we can about our enemy before they strike. This is our chance to turn the tide, to seize the initiative and take the fight to them."
But as Aaron spoke, his words washing over her like a tide, Historia found herself struggling to focus, her mind drifting to the empty space beside her, the cold, lonely expanse of her bed. She knew that he was right, that the fate of their world hung in the balance. But in that moment, all she could think about was the distance between them, the gulf that seemed to grow wider with each passing day.
As the meeting drew to a close and the soldiers filed out of the throne room, their faces set with a grim determination, Historia found herself alone once more, her heart heavy with a sorrow she could not name. And as the days turned to weeks and Aaron's absence stretched on, a dull, aching void that seemed to consume her from within, she began to wonder if the love they had once shared had been nothing more than a dream, a fleeting glimpse of a happiness that was never meant to last.
It was during one of these long, lonely days that Thomas found her in the fields of the royal farm, her face pale and drawn, her eyes filled with a quiet despair. He approached her cautiously, his heart aching at the sight of her pain, his mind racing with a thousand questions he dared not ask.
"Your Majesty," he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet concern. "Are you alright?"
Historia turned to him, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her lips trembling with a sorrow she could no longer contain. "No, Thomas," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rustling of the wind through the tall grass. "I'm not alright. I'm... I'm lost."
Thomas's heart clenched at the sight of her pain, his hand reaching out instinctively to offer comfort, to offer solace in the face of her despair. But before he could speak, before he could find the words to ease her suffering, the sound of hoofbeats echoed across the fields, the pounding of a horse's hooves against the hard-packed earth.
Historia's head snapped up, her eyes wide with a sudden, desperate hope. But as the rider drew closer, his tall, broad-shouldered form unmistakable even from a distance, she felt her heart sink, a leaden weight settling in the pit of her stomach.
"Aaron," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper as he reined in his horse beside them, his emerald eyes fixed upon her face with a look of grim determination.
"Historia," he said, his voice low and urgent, his tone brooking no argument. "I have to go. The Survey Corps is setting up a camp near the port, to keep watch for any signs of Marleyan activity. I'll be gone for several weeks, maybe longer."
Historia felt her heart shatter, a sudden, overwhelming sense of loss washing over her like a tidal wave. She knew that he was doing what he had to, that the fate of their world rested upon his shoulders. But still, the thought of facing the long, lonely weeks ahead without him by her side was almost more than she could bear.
"But why do you have to go?" she asked, her voice trembling with a desperate, aching need. "Surely there are others who can take your place, who can keep watch for any signs of danger?"
Aaron's expression softened, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek in a gentle, reassuring caress. "I have to be there, Historia," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet conviction. "I have the power of the Colossal Titan, the strength to protect our people from any threat that may come. It's my duty, my responsibility. I can't turn my back on that, not now, not ever."
Historia closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She knew that he was right, that the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. But still, the thought of letting him go, of watching him ride away from her once more, was almost more than she could bear.
"I understand," she said at last, her voice barely more than a whisper as she forced a small, trembling smile to her lips. "Just... just promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll come back to me."
Aaron's eyes shone with a fierce, unwavering love, his hand tightening around hers in a silent, unbreakable vow. "Always," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. "I will always come back to you, Historia. No matter what happens, no matter what challenges we face, I will always find my way back to you."
And with that, he was gone, his tall, broad-shouldered form disappearing into the distance as he rode away, his heart heavy with the weight of his duty, his mind fixed upon the battles that lay ahead.
Historia watched him go, her heart aching with a sorrow she could not name, her eyes fixed upon the horizon long after he had vanished from sight. And as the sun began to sink behind the hills, casting the world in shades of red and gold, she felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of loss, a fear that the man she loved was slipping away from her, consumed by a fate that would always come first.
"I'm so sorry, Historia."
Thomas's voice cut through the stillness, his hand coming to rest upon her shoulder in a gentle, reassuring touch. She turned to him, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her lips trembling with a sorrow she could no longer contain.
"I just... I feel so helpless," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rustling of the wind through the tall grass. "I love him so much, Thomas. But sometimes... sometimes I feel like I'm losing him, like he's slipping away from me with each passing day."
Thomas's heart clenched at the sight of her pain, his mind racing with a thousand words of comfort he longed to offer. But before he could speak, before he could find the courage to voice the feelings that had taken root in his heart, the sound of footsteps echoed across the field, the crunch of boots against the hard-packed earth.
They turned as one, their eyes widening at the sight of the man who approached, his tall, lanky form clad in the crisp, dark uniform of the Military Police. It was Neil, Aaron's second-in-command, his narrow face set in a grim, determined expression as he strode towards them, his eyes fixed upon Historia with a look of quiet concern.
"Director Neil," Historia said, her voice trembling slightly as she struggled to compose herself, to push down the sorrow that threatened to consume her. "What brings you here?"
Neil's expression softened, his eyes filling with a quiet sympathy as he took in the sight of her pain, the raw, aching sorrow that seemed to radiate from her very being. "I came to inform you that I will be taking over Director Mustang's duties in his absence, Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet respect. "I know that he has the utmost faith in my abilities, and I promise to serve you and our people to the best of my abilities."
Historia nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Neil," she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet appreciation. "I know that Aaron trusts you implicitly, and I have no doubt that you will do an excellent job in his stead."
Neil bowed his head, a small, humble gesture of respect and gratitude. But as he straightened, his eyes fixed upon Thomas with a sudden, piercing intensity, a look of quiet warning that sent a chill down the young farmer's spine.
"Thomas," Neil said, his voice low and filled with a quiet menace. "May I have a word with you in private?"
Thomas's heart raced, a sudden, overwhelming sense of dread washing over him like a tidal wave. But he nodded, his voice trembling slightly as he forced himself to meet Neil's gaze, to hold his ground in the face of the man's quiet, unprovoked anger.
"Of course, Director Neil," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he followed the man across the field, his mind racing with a thousand questions he dared not ask.
As they reached the edge of the field, the tall stalks of wheat swaying gently in the breeze, Neil turned to face him, his eyes narrowing with a sudden, fierce intensity. "I know what you're doing, Thomas," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet menace. "I've seen the way you look at her, the way you hover around her like a lovesick puppy. And I'm here to tell you, in no uncertain terms, that it ends now."
Thomas's heart raced, a sudden, overwhelming sense of panic rising up within him like a tidal wave. He opened his mouth to protest, to deny the accusations that hung heavy in the air between them. But Neil cut him off, his voice sharp and filled with a quiet, unyielding authority.
"Don't play dumb with me, Thomas," he said, his eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce intensity. "I know what you want, and I'm here to tell you that you'll never have it. Historia belongs to Aaron, and Aaron alone. And if you value your life, if you have any sense of self-preservation at all, you'll stay the hell away from her."
Thomas's heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing with a thousand denials, a thousand protests that died on his lips. He knew that Neil was right, that the feelings he harbored for Historia were dangerous, that they could never be anything more than a fantasy, a dream that could never come true.
But still, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of defiance, a sudden, overwhelming urge to stand his ground, to fight for the woman he loved with every fiber of his being. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice trembling slightly as he forced himself to meet Neil's gaze, to hold his ground in the face of the man's quiet, unprovoked anger.
Neil's eyes narrowed, his lips twisting into a small, cruel smile. "Don't play games with me, Thomas," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet menace. "I know what you're up to, and I'm here to tell you that it ends now. Aaron is not a man to be trifled with, and if you cross him, if you do anything to jeopardize his happiness or his relationship with Historia, you'll regret it for the rest of your short, miserable life."
Thomas swallowed hard, his heart racing with a sudden, overwhelming sense of fear. He knew that Neil was right, that Aaron was a man to be reckoned with, a force of nature that could crush him like an insect beneath his boot. But still, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope, a sudden, desperate longing for a love that could never be.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper as he forced himself to hold Neil's gaze, to stand his ground in the face of the man's quiet, unprovoked anger.
Neil shook his head, a small, pitying smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You've been warned, Thomas," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet finality. "Stay away from Historia, or suffer the consequences. Because believe me, if Aaron finds out about your little crush, if he even suspects that you've been sniffing around his woman... well, let's just say that you'll be lucky if you live long enough to regret it."
And with that, Neil turned on his heel and strode away, his tall, lanky form disappearing into the distance as he made his way back towards the palace, his heart heavy with the weight of his duty, his mind fixed upon the battles that lay ahead.
Thomas watched him go, his heart racing with a sudden, overwhelming sense of despair. He knew that Neil was right, that his feelings for Historia were a dangerous, impossible dream, a fantasy that could never come true.
But still, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope, a sudden, desperate longing for a love that could never be. Because deep down, in the darkest, most secret corners of his heart, Thomas knew that he would never stop loving her, never stop fighting for the chance to be by her side, to hold her in his arms and whisper the words that burned like fire in his soul.
.....
In the vast, open field, the Colossal Titan stood tall and imposing, its massive form casting a long shadow across the grass. From the nape of its neck, Aaron emerged, his ODM gear whirring as he descended to the ground, his movements fluid and graceful despite the exhaustion that weighed heavy on his limbs.
Hange watched him with wide, astonished eyes, her mouth agape as she took in the sight of his transformation. "Incredible, Aaron," she breathed, her voice filled with a mix of awe and scientific curiosity. "You can transform twice in a row, even with the Colossal's enormous size. How do you feel?"
Aaron landed on the ground with a soft thud, his legs trembling slightly as he fought to maintain his balance. "I'm alright," he said, his voice strained with the effort of keeping himself upright. "A little dizzy, maybe, but nothing I can't handle."
Hange nodded, her expression filled with a mixture of concern and understanding. "You should take a break," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Get some rest, regain your strength. We'll need you at your best if we're going to face whatever comes next."
Aaron hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the horizon as if searching for some unseen threat. But then he nodded, his shoulders slumping with a sudden, bone-deep weariness. "You're right," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet resignation. "I'll take a walk, clear my head. Let me know if anything changes."
Hange watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility that rested upon their shoulders. She knew that the battles ahead would be long and difficult, that they would test the limits of their strength and their resolve. But she also knew that they had no choice but to fight, to stand against the darkness that threatened to consume their world and everything they held dear.
As Aaron made his way down to the shore, the sound of the waves crashing against the sand filling his ears, he felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of red and gold, and for a moment, he allowed himself to get lost in the beauty of it all, to forget the weight of the world that rested upon his shoulders.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching until Jean was standing beside him, his tall, lanky form casting a long shadow across the sand. Aaron glanced up at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the other man's expression, the hint of concern that flickered behind his eyes.
"How are you holding up?" Jean asked, his voice low and filled with a quiet understanding.
Aaron shrugged, his gaze returning to the horizon as he watched the sun slowly sink beneath the waves. "I've had better days," he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Life was simpler when all we had to do was kill Titans."
Jean let out a soft, humorless chuckle, his eyes flickering to the sky above as if searching for some unseen answer. "There aren't any Titans left on the island now," he said, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. "Except for you and Eren, of course."
Aaron felt a small, bitter smile tug at the corners of his lips, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth that hung between them. He knew that the power of the Titans was a curse as much as it was a blessing, that it came with a price that few were willing to pay.
"How's Historia?" Jean asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
Aaron's heart clenched at the sound of her name, his mind filled with a sudden, aching longing for the woman he loved. "She's at the castle," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet sadness. "Waiting for me, as always."
Jean nodded, his expression filled with a quiet understanding. "And the wedding?" he asked, his voice gentle but probing. "It's been a long time coming, hasn't it?"
Aaron hesitated, his heart racing with a sudden, overwhelming sense of guilt. He knew that he had been putting off the wedding for far too long, that he had been using his work as an excuse to avoid the commitment that he knew he should have made long ago.
"I don't have time," he said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper as he forced himself to meet Jean's gaze. "There's too much work to be done, too many battles to be fought. I can't afford to be distracted, not now."
Jean's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce intensity. "You can go back and forth to the palace whenever you want," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet anger. "Eren can handle a fleet on his own, and you know it. So why the obsession with work? Why the need to push yourself to the brink of exhaustion, to neglect the woman you love in the process?"
Aaron's heart raced, his mind filled with a sudden, overwhelming sense of shame. He knew that Jean was right, that he had been using his work as a crutch, as a way to avoid the painful truths that he knew he would have to face sooner or later.
"I want to leave Historia a world of peace," he said at last, his voice low and filled with a quiet desperation. "A kingdom where she can be safe, where she can rest easy knowing that the threats that have haunted us for so long are finally gone. I want to give her that, Jean. I want to give her the life she deserves."
Jean's expression softened, his eyes filling with a sudden, overwhelming sense of sympathy. "And why the rush?" he asked, his voice gentle but probing. "Why the need to do it all now, to push yourself to the brink of exhaustion in the process?"
Aaron hesitated, his heart racing with a sudden, overwhelming sense of fear. He knew that he should tell Jean the truth, that he should confess the terrible secret that had been weighing on his mind for so long. But still, he couldn't bring himself to say the words, couldn't bear to see the look of pity and horror that he knew would fill the other man's eyes.
"Because of what Eren said," he said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper as he forced himself to meet Jean's gaze. "You know what happens to those who inherit the power of the Nine Titans. You know the price we pay for this curse."
Jean's eyes widened, his expression filled with a sudden, horrified understanding. "Thirteen years," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet dread. "That's all you have left, isn't it? Thirteen years before the curse takes you, before the power of the Titans consumes you from within."
Aaron nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth that hung between them. He knew that he should have told Historia the truth long ago, that he should have given her the chance to make her own choices, to decide for herself whether she was willing to bear the burden of loving a man who was doomed to die.
"I want to leave her with a kingdom that's at peace," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet desperation. "I want to give her everything I can, to make sure that she's safe and happy and loved, even after I'm gone."
Jean shook his head, his expression filled with a sudden, fierce anger. "You're an idiot," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. "Historia doesn't want a kingdom, Aaron. She wants you. She wants the man she loves, the man she's willing to spend the rest of her life with, no matter how short that life might be."
Aaron's heart raced, his mind filled with a sudden, overwhelming sense of doubt. He knew that Jean was right, that he had been a fool to think that he could shield Historia from the truth, that he could protect her from the pain and heartbreak that he knew was coming.
"She doesn't know," he said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper as he forced himself to meet Jean's gaze. "I haven't told her about the curse, about the thirteen years. I didn't want to worry her, didn't want to burden her with the knowledge of what's to come."
Jean's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce intensity. "You're hiding information from your queen," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet anger. "From the woman you love. You should be ashamed of yourself, Aaron. You should be on your knees, begging for her forgiveness."
Aaron's heart clenched, his mind filled with a sudden, overwhelming sense of shame. He knew that Jean was right, that he had been a coward, that he had been running from the truth for far too long.
"I know what I'm doing," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet desperation. "I'm trying to protect her, Jean. I'm trying to spare her the pain of losing me, of watching me fade away before her eyes."
Jean shook his head, his expression filled with a sudden, fierce determination. "It doesn't look like you know what you're doing at all," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. "It looks like you're running away, like you're too afraid to face the truth of what's coming. And that's not fair to Historia, Aaron. That's not fair to the woman who loves you, who's willing to stand by your side no matter what comes next."
Aaron's heart raced, his mind filled with a sudden, overwhelming sense of fear. He knew that Jean was right, that he had been running from the truth for far too long, that he had been hiding behind his work and his responsibilities as a way to avoid the painful realities that he knew he would have to face sooner or later.
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