Her Majesty's Knight

Chapter 5 - Historia

Song inspired for this chapter: Black Heart by Stooshe because Levi has a black heart and is cruel to Historia. This is such a wonderful song.  

I huddle up before the fireplace in my nightgown, reading an old book about fairy tales that the Marleyan volunteers donated to the orphanage. This one is my personal favourite, hence why I took it with me to the capital. The children won't mind.

One particular story I love is about a pint-sized knight who serves his equally pint-sized queen. In some renditions, they're said to even be the size of a thumb, but that's just ridiculous.

Captain Levi and I aren't that small...

Wait... Tom Thumb and Thumbelina; that's who I meant. How embarrassing.

I hear a kerfuffle out in the hall, looking up at the door.  What's going on?

"I... I order you to stay away from the queen's quarters this instant. She is resting!"

"I don't take orders from you, skinny!"

My heart thumps in my chest when I recognise the voice, and I tuck the book behind a cushion.

It's the captain.

"I-I won't say it again... The queen is—"

Something rams down the guard's throat next and he talks no more. Then a dull thud comes from the other side of the door, and I back away, wondering if I should jump out the window.

A bang comes at the door, and I yelp, fumbling with the clasp. Yep, I'll take my chances scaling the high palace walls in the pouring rain over an angry Captain Levi any day.

"Historia, I know you're in there. I just heard you squeal!"

I press my nose to the window now, fogging the cool surface while I fiddle with the clasp. Shoot, why won't this stupid thing open?!

Finally, I give up, facing the door. I have nowhere else to run. So I have no other choice but to face that man on the other side.

I guess he got my letter then.

Just as he advised me the other day, I put on my game face, fix up my hair, then approach the door.

It opens, and there he stands in his military gear, rain dripping from his wet hair and cowl. For a moment he looks like the Grim Reaper, especially with the way the candles cast shadows on the hollows of his face, making him appear gaunt and skeleton-like.

All he needs is the scythe, and he'd be Death coming to harvest my soul.

My heart bangs against my ribcage, but I hold my chin high and say, "Well, hello, Captain Levi. What brings you here on this fine, rainy evening?"

His grey eyes flash and then he barges inside, slamming the door. "Cut the crap. You know why I'm here."

I try to maintain my composure, finding that mechanical voice that I put on so effortlessly before, but all I manage is a childish whisper. "I... I thought that..."

"Well, you thought wrong. I won't be your stupid knight!"

He holds up the letter that I wrote to Hange then tosses it into the fireplace, and I watch as my fancy scrawl goes up in flames. It took me nearly a year to get that scrawl so tidy.