The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the newly constructed port. The salty sea breeze whipped through Aaron's dark hair as he stood at the edge of the dock, his emerald eyes fixed on the horizon. Behind him, the sound of footsteps and murmured conversations filled the air as the rest of the group - Eren, Levi, Hange, and the Volunteers - gathered to await the arrival of their first official visitors from Hizuru.
Yelena, tall and imposing, her blonde hair glinting in the fading light, strode up to stand beside Aaron. "It took us a year, but we finally managed to build this port," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of pride. "And soon, we'll be receiving our first guests."
Aaron nodded, his jaw clenching slightly as he fought to control the tension that coiled within him. "Hizuru," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost pensive intensity. "Our first official ally in the fight against Marley."
Yelena glanced at him, her pale blue eyes glinting with a strange, almost knowing intensity. "I heard that your child was born a few weeks ago, Mustang," she said, her voice soft and filled with a quiet, almost conspiratorial intensity. "Congratulations."
Aaron's expression softened slightly, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's a girl," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost reverent intensity. "We named her Leah."
Yelena's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with a strange, almost mischievous intensity. "A beautiful name," she said, her voice soft and filled with a quiet, almost teasing intensity.
Aaron shrugged, his expression growing serious once more as he turned his gaze back to the horizon. Yelena, noticing his distraction, moved closer to him, her tall, slender form casting a long shadow across the weathered wooden planks of the dock.
"You seem tense," she said, her voice low and filled with a quiet, almost probing intensity. "Is everything alright?"
Aaron sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to face her. "There's a corrupt Marquis embezzling funds, Historia just gave birth, we're about to meet our first official ally, and war is just around the corner," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost weary intensity. "Of course I'm tense."
Yelena's expression softened, her pale blue eyes shining with a strange, almost admiring intensity. "You're a remarkable man, Aaron Mustang," she said, her voice soft and filled with a quiet, almost reverent intensity. "To bear the weight of so much responsibility on your shoulders, and still stand tall and strong in the face of it all."
Aaron's expression hardened, his emerald eyes flashing with a cold, almost warning intensity. "I'm not interested in the praise of any woman other than my wife," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost dangerous intensity.
Yelena laughed, a soft, almost musical sound that seemed to hang in the air between them. "Of course," she said, her voice filled with a quiet, almost mocking intensity. "The Queen's loyal lapdog, through and through."
Aaron glanced at her, his expression unreadable as he met her gaze, but chose to remain silent. Yelena turned her attention to Eren, who had been standing quietly, observing the exchange.
"Eren, I haven't seen you in a year, not since you sank our bunkers," Yelena remarked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
Eren's intense green eyes met Yelena's gaze, his expression stoic and unreadable. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging her statement, but offered no further response.
Levi, standing nearby, scoffed under his breath, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watched the interaction unfold.
Aaron, lost in thought, barely registered their exchange as he stared out at the vast expanse of the ocean. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him, the sense that there were forces at work beyond his control, pulling the strings of fate in ways he couldn't even begin to comprehend.
"The higher-ups are talking," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost pensive intensity. "They have doubts about the alliance, about the Volunteers, about Historia's reign, about my own integrity."
Levi's expression hardened, his sharp, angular features etched with a look of barely-concealed anger. "Let them talk," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost dismissive intensity. "Zackly and Pixis may not be happy, but there's nothing they can do."
Aaron nodded, his expression growing serious once more as he turned his gaze back to the horizon. "I know," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost resigned intensity. "But still, we can't afford to let our guard down. Not now, not with so much at stake."
Just then, Yelena's voice rang out across the dock, her tall, slender form practically vibrating with excitement as she pointed towards the horizon. "The ship is coming into view!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a quiet, almost triumphant intensity.
Aaron's gaze followed the line of her outstretched arm, his emerald eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of the sleek, elegant vessel cutting through the waves towards them. "Hizuru," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost awestruck intensity. "They're here."
As the ship drew closer, Aaron could make out the delicate, intricate designs that adorned its hull, the graceful curves and sweeping lines that spoke of a culture and a people that were as ancient as they were mysterious. He felt a strange, almost electric thrill run through him as he watched the vessel glide into the harbor, its sails billowing in the wind like the wings of some great, majestic bird.
Beside him, Levi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his sharp, angular features etched with a look of barely-concealed impatience. "Let's hope they're as friendly as they seem," he muttered, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost wary intensity.
Aaron glanced at him, a small, almost rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We don't have much choice," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost resigned intensity. "We need allies, Levi. Now more than ever."
Levi scoffed, his sharp, angular features twisting into a look of barely-concealed disdain. "I know that, brat," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost irritated intensity. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
As the ship approached the dock, the anticipation in the air grew thicker, more palpable. Aaron could feel the weight of the moment settling on his shoulders, the sense that the fate of his people, of his family, hung in the balance.
.....
As the ship docked and the gangplank was lowered, the representatives of Hizuru stepped onto the port, led by none other than Kiyomi Azumabito herself. Aaron stepped forward, his tall, imposing figure radiating an air of authority as he introduced himself. "Welcome to Paradis, Lady Azumabito. I am Aaron Mustang, husband of Queen Historia."
Kiyomi bowed her head slightly, a small, polite smile gracing her lips. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Lord Mustang. I must admit, I did not expect to be greeted by royalty."
Aaron gestured to his companions, his voice clear and strong as he made the introductions. "Allow me to present Captain Levi Ackerman and Section Commander Hange Zoƫ of the Survey Corps, as well as Yelena, our esteemed ally from Marley."
Kiyomi nodded, her keen eyes taking in each individual as they were introduced. Aaron extended his arm, motioning towards a waiting carriage. "Please, Lady Azumabito, allow me to escort you to the palace. The journey is a long one, and I'm sure you must be eager to rest after your voyage."
As they settled into the plush interior of the carriage, Kiyomi turned to Aaron, her expression one of polite curiosity. "Tell me, Lord Mustang, how fares Paradis? I have heard much about your island nation, but I am eager to learn more from those who call it home."
Aaron smiled, his emerald eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "I appreciate your interest, Lady Azumabito, but I believe it would be best to save such discussions for when we are in the presence of my wife, Queen Historia. She is eager to meet with you and discuss matters of state."
Kiyomi chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a knowing light. "Ah, I see. A devoted and loyal husband, indeed."
Levi, seated across from them, scoffed under his breath. "More like a faithful lapdog," he muttered, his words tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
Aaron felt his cheeks flush, but he maintained his composure, refusing to rise to Levi's bait. The journey stretched on for hours, the carriage winding its way through the countryside and towards the looming walls of the capital city.
Finally, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, they arrived at the palace. Aaron led the way through the winding corridors, his footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. They came to a halt before a large, ornate door, and Aaron pushed it open, revealing a spacious chamber within.
There, seated upon a plush armchair, was Historia, her delicate features alight with a warm, welcoming smile. Beside her stood Nanaba, her ever-present guardian and confidante. Historia rose to her feet, her movements graceful and fluid despite the slight swell of her belly, evidence of the child she had recently borne.
"Lady Azumabito," Historia said, her voice soft and melodic as she extended her hand in greeting. "It is an honor to welcome you to our home."
Kiyomi took Historia's hand, shaking it firmly as she offered her congratulations. "Queen Historia, I must offer my sincerest congratulations on the birth of your child. I trust the delivery went smoothly?"
Historia laughed, a light, tinkling sound that seemed to fill the room with warmth. "It was a relatively easy birth, all things considered. Although I must admit, my dear husband did have a tendency to faint at the sight of my discomfort."
Levi smirked, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement. "The man can charge headlong into a Titan's maw and emerge unscathed, but the sight of his wife in labor is enough to bring him to his knees."
Aaron felt his face grow hot, his cheeks flushing a deep, crimson red. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could speak, Yelena stepped forward, her tall, slender form commanding attention.
"If I may, Your Majesty," she said, her voice smooth and measured. "Lady Kiyomi Azumabito is the leader of the Azumabito family, a clan with immense influence in Hizuru's diplomatic relations. Their ties to other nations run deep and strong, forged over generations of careful cultivation."
Historia nodded, her expression one of keen interest. "I see. And what brings you to our shores, Lady Azumabito? What is it that you seek from Paradis?"
Kiyomi smiled, her eyes glinting with a hint of mystery. "In due time, Your Majesty. But first, there is a matter of great importance that I must address."
She turned to Mikasa, who had been standing silently at the back of the room, her dark eyes fixed upon Kiyomi with a look of intense curiosity. "You, my dear," Kiyomi said, her voice soft and gentle. "Come closer, let me see your face."
Mikasa stepped forward, her movements hesitant and uncertain. Kiyomi reached out, her fingers brushing against the soft, silken fabric of the scarf that Mikasa always wore around her neck. "This symbol," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Have you seen it before?"
Mikasa's hand flew to her wrist, her fingers clenching around the bandages that covered her skin. Eren, standing beside her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Show her, Mikasa," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "The secret your mother entrusted to you, the one you've kept hidden all these years. I think it's time for the truth to be revealed."
Mikasa hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to Eren's face with a look of uncertainty. But as she met his gaze, she seemed to find the strength she needed. With trembling fingers, she began to unwind the bandages from her wrist, revealing the intricate tattoo that lay beneath.
Kiyomi gasped, her eyes widening with shock and recognition. "That mark," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's the same as the one borne by the Azumabito family. Passed down from generation to generation, a symbol of our heritage and our pride."
She reached out, her fingers tracing the delicate lines of the tattoo with a reverent touch. "Your mother," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "She did a very noble thing, entrusting this to you. Ensuring that our legacy would live on, even in the face of unimaginable adversity."
Kiyomi turned to the others, her expression one of solemn gravity. "More than a century ago, Hizuru forged an alliance with the Eldian Empire. The son of the Shogun, my ancestor, maintained a close friendship with the Fritz family, and as a result, we were permitted to remain on Paradis."
She paused, her eyes distant and thoughtful. "But after the Great Titan War, our position was called into question. The world turned against Eldia, and we found ourselves caught in the middle. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what happened in those chaotic years. The truth has been lost to time and confusion."
Kiyomi's gaze shifted back to Mikasa, her eyes shining with a fierce, proud light. "But now, after all this time, I have found you. The last surviving member of the Shogun's bloodline, the heir to his legacy. Mikasa Ackerman, descendant of the Azumabito family."
Aaron leaned forward, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, so Mikasa is both an Ackerman and an Azumabito? Does that mean her abilities, her strength, and her power come from this lineage?"
Armin shook his head, his voice calm and measured. "No, her physical abilities are a result of her Ackerman heritage. But this connection to the Azumabito family, it's something else entirely."
Aaron's eyes widened, a look of realization dawning on his face. "So she's like some kind of princess or chosen one? The heroine of our story, destined for greatness?"
As the hours passed and the discussions continued, the true purpose of Kiyomi's visit began to take shape. Behind closed doors, the military leaders of Paradis debated the implications of Mikasa's newfound status, some seeing it as an opportunity to gain Hizuru's support, others fearing it could be some kind of trap.
Commander Pixis, his weathered face creased with a look of thoughtful contemplation, spoke up. "Given our nation's immaturity compared to the vast world that surrounds us, I believe our best course of action is to sit and listen to what Lady Azumabito has to propose. We are in no position to make demands or set the terms of this alliance."
Aaron nodded, his expression one of grim resignation. "I hate to admit it, but for once, I agree with the old man. We need to hear them out, to understand what they're offering and what they expect in return. It's not like we have a wealth of options at our disposal."
Commander-in-Chief Zackly scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Listen here, Mustang. I thought I told you to leave this to the veterans, to those with experience in such matters. You're just a child playing at politics, you have no place at this table."
Aaron smirked, his emerald eyes glinting with a fierce, defiant light. "A child, you say? A child who just so happens to be the King of Paradis, or have you forgotten that little detail?"
Zackly gritted his teeth, his face flushing with barely-contained rage. But before he could retort, Hange spoke up, her voice calm and level. "I think our best course of action is to wait and see how things play out. To listen to what Lady Azumabito has to say and then make our decision based on that information."
Zackly turned to Aaron, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "And what about you, Director Mustang? What's your position in all of this? You may be in charge of internal affairs, but this is far beyond your purview. This is a global matter, one that falls under our jurisdiction."
Aaron met Zackly's gaze, his expression cool and impassive. "Do as you will," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. "I have no interest in playing these games."
With that, he turned and strode from the room, his long coat billowing behind him like a banner in the wind. Neil, the commander of the Military Police, watched him go, his brow furrowed with concern. "What do you think he's planning?" he asked, his voice low and worried.
Zackly scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. "You're his friend, aren't you? Shouldn't you be the one to know what goes on in that head of his?"
Neil said nothing, his eyes fixed on the door through which Aaron had disappeared. In the hallway beyond, Aaron strode with purpose, his footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. Nanaba and Nail fell into step beside him, their expressions ones of grim determination.
"Nail," Aaron said, his voice low and urgent. "I need you to look into something for me. Find out if there's any way for me to assume the crown, to become the true King of Paradis."
Nail raised an eyebrow, his expression one of surprise. "I thought you weren't interested in that kind of power," he said, his voice tinged with confusion. "What changed?"
Aaron sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his burden. "Someone needs to keep the foreigners and the military in check," he said, his voice low and tired. "And at this point, I can't just punch my way out of every problem. I need to find another way."
He turned to Nanaba, his expression softening with concern. "Where's Leah?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is she safe?"
Nanaba nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "She's with Jean, Sasha, and Connie, along with the palace staff. They're taking good care of her, don't worry."
Aaron let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging with the release of tension. "Good," he said, his voice low and fervent. "Things are too tense right now to leave my baby girl alone. I need to know she's protected, no matter what happens."
Aaron finally reached the nursery, where Jean and Connie stood guard at the door. Connie yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Is my babysitting shift over?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of relief.
Aaron nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jean sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "What a pain," he grumbled, his tone more amused than irritated. "But I guess it's better than slaying Titans."
With that, the two soldiers took their leave, their footsteps echoing down the hallway as they disappeared from view. Aaron pushed open the door, his eyes scanning the room with a keen, assessing gaze.
The nursemaids stood at attention, their postures stiff and tense as they watched him enter. Aaron's brow furrowed, his eyes darting around the room in search of a familiar face. "Where's Sasha?" he asked, his voice low and curious.
One of the maids stepped forward, her hands clasped demurely before her. "She went to fetch a snack, my lord," she said, her voice soft and deferential.
Aaron sighed, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He should have known. Sasha's love of food was as legendary as her skill with a bow.
He strode over to the cradle, his heart swelling with love and pride as he gazed down at his daughter. Leah was the spitting image of her mother, with downy golden hair and delicate features that seemed to glow with an inner light.
Carefully, Aaron lifted the baby into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. "Alright, little one," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "Time to go see Mommy and Daddy."
With Leah nestled securely in his embrace, Aaron left the nursery, his footsteps measured and purposeful as he made his way through the winding corridors of the palace.
At last, he reached the royal bedchamber, where Historia was waiting for him. She rose from her seat as he entered, her eyes shining with love and warmth as she reached out to take Leah from his arms.
"How did the military meeting go?" she asked, her voice soft and curious as she settled the baby against her shoulder.
Aaron leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips, his heart swelling with love and gratitude for the woman who had stood by his side through everything. "It went well enough," he said, his voice low and pensive. "But they're trying to push me out more and more with each passing day."
Historia frowned, her delicate brows knitting together in concern. "Why is that?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Aaron sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his burden. "I'm always swimming against the current of their interests," he said, his voice low and tired. "They see me as a threat, someone who could upset the delicate balance of power they've worked so hard to maintain."
Historia's eyes flashed with a fierce, protective light. "Why don't you just throw them out the window?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
Aaron chuckled, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'm afraid that won't work anymore, my love," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "Things have changed, and I need to find a new way to navigate these treacherous waters."
Historia nodded, her expression softening with understanding. "Whatever you decide to do, know that you have my full support," she said, her voice filled with a quiet, unwavering conviction. "I will always stand by your side, no matter what."
Aaron's heart swelled with love and gratitude, his emerald eyes shining with a fierce, unwavering devotion. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice low and fervent. "I don't know what I would do without you."
Historia smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a soft, tender light. "Oh, did you notice?" she asked, her voice filled with a quiet, almost reverent wonder. "Leah opened her eyes for a moment earlier. They're the same color as yours."
Aaron's heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed down at his daughter with a fierce, overwhelming love. "Well, let's just hope she doesn't inherit my temper," he said, his voice low and wry.
Meanwhile, in another part of the city, the night had fallen like a dark, oppressive shroud. Hanna Writz, a woman with piercing green eyes, made her way through the empty streets, her footsteps echoing in the stillness.
She entered a deserted bar, where the Marquis and Thomas, the farmer who had once been betrothed to Historia, were waiting for her. Hanna greeted them with a nod, her expression guarded and wary.
The Marquis slammed his fist on the table, his eyes blazing with a fierce, angry light. "Well?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "It's been a year, and you still haven't managed to get close to your son?"
Hanna shook her head, her expression one of grim resignation. The Marquis let out a growl of frustration, his lips twisting into a sneer. "You're both useless," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "This idiot couldn't get close to Historia, and you couldn't even approach Mustang."
Hanna sighed, her shoulders slumping with the weight of her guilt and shame. "Aaron doesn't want anything to do with me," she said, her voice low and weary. "He can barely stand the sight of me."
The Marquis's lips curved into a cruel, mocking smile. "Of course he doesn't," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You were a horrible mother, threatening to kill your own children. Tell me, do you even know who his father is?"
Hanna nodded, her expression one of grim resignation. "Just a bartender," she said, her voice flat and emotionless.
The Marquis let out a bark of laughter, his eyes glinting with a cruel, mocking light. "Well then, I guess we'll have to move on to Plan C," he said, his voice filled with a dark, menacing intensity. "Hey, kid! Get in here."
From the shadows, a tall figure emerged, a cowboy hat perched jauntily atop his head. His green eyes glinted with a fierce, arrogant light, and a cocky smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Hanna tensed, her eyes widening with shock and recognition. The man grinned, his expression one of cruel, mocking amusement. "Hello, Mother," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "It's been a while."
Hanna swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she gazed upon the face of her eldest son. "It's good to see you well, Noah," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing.
The Marquis chuckled, his eyes glinting with a cruel, calculating light. "Unlike Mustang, you don't seem to hold any grudges against your dear old mom," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Noah shrugged, his lips curving into a wry, self-deprecating smile. "Growing up in the Underground doesn't leave you with many options," he said, his voice low and bitter. "You learn to take what you can get and not ask too many questions."
The Marquis let out a bark of laughter, his eyes glinting with a cruel, mocking light. "Just how many children did you have, anyway?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "You must have been a pretty cheap whore back in the day."
Hanna's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with a fierce, defiant light. "I had two others who died as infants," she said, her voice low and steady. "Noah, Aaron, and Rosy are the only ones who survived. Noah's father was an underground fighter, while Aaron and Rosy were born after I settled down with the bartender."
The Marquis nodded, his eyes glinting with a cruel, calculating light. "And who raised you, boy?" he asked, his gaze shifting to Noah with a look of keen interest.
Noah grinned, his eyes flashing with a fierce, arrogant light. "No one," he said, his voice low and proud. "I've always taken care of myself, although I did spend some time with my old man."
The Marquis's lips curved into a cruel, predatory smile. "Well then, Noah Writz," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you think you have what it takes to kill your little brother?"
Noah's grin widened, his eyes glinting with a fierce, almost manic intensity. "Please," he said, his voice low and mocking. "There's no need to use my father's name anymore. He told me to keep it hidden, but it seems that's no longer necessary."
The Marquis raised an eyebrow, his expression one of keen interest. "And what name would that be?" he asked, his voice low and curious.
Noah's smile turned cruel and sharp, his eyes flashing with a dark, dangerous light. "Ackerman," he said, his voice low and menacing. "My name is Noah Ackerman."
The next morning, Aaron dressed quietly, his movements slow and deliberate as he gazed down at Historia and Leah, still fast asleep in their bed. His heart swelled with love and tenderness, and a small, contented smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
With a final, lingering glance at his wife and daughter, Aaron slipped out of the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors. As he made his way through the winding corridors of the palace, Nail fell into step beside him, his expression one of grim determination.
"I did some digging," Nail said, his voice low and urgent. "And there's no way for you to become king, unless..."
Aaron sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his burden. "Unless I take the throne by force," he said, his voice low and weary.
Nail nodded, his expression one of grim resignation. Aaron stretched, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he rolled his shoulders. "Alright then," he said, his voice low and determined. "We'll do this my way. Let Hange and Neil know what I'm planning."
Nail nodded, his expression one of fierce loyalty and devotion. "Of course," he said, his voice low and steady. "I'll make sure they're informed."
He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing with a hint of concern. "By the way," he said, his voice low and hesitant. "Your mother came to the palace yesterday, asking to speak with you. I told her to leave, but she's been trying to get in touch with you for a year now. Don't you think you should at least hear her out?"
Aaron's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with a fierce, unyielding light. "There's nothing to talk about," he said, his voice low and cold. "She made her choices a long time ago, and I've made mine. I have no interest in dredging up the past or reopening old wounds."
Nail nodded, his expression one of grim understanding. He knew better than to push the issue, to try and force Aaron to confront the demons of his past. Some things were better left buried, some wounds too deep to ever fully heal.
As they continued on their way, Aaron's mind raced with the possibilities and implications of what he was about to do. He knew that taking the throne by force would not be easy, that there would be resistance and opposition from all sides. But he also knew that it was the only way to protect his family, to ensure a better future for his people and his nation.
.....
As the hours passed, the group reconvened, this time seated at a long table. On one side sat Aaron and Historia, Pixis, Zackly, Mikasa, Eren, Neil, and Hange. On the other side were Kiyomi Azumabito and a group of engineers and politicians from her country. Historia turned to Mikasa, her eyes shining with a sense of kinship. "I feel a connection to you, Mikasa," she said, her voice soft and sincere. "We both have carried an enormous burden since the day we were born."
Aaron raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And here I thought I was the one doing all the dirty work," he said, his tone playful yet laced with a hint of sarcasm. "What responsibility are you talking about, my love?"
Historia smiled sweetly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "No sex for a week," she said, her voice light and teasing.
Aaron's eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he realized the gravity of his wife's threat.
As the meeting began, Kiyomi expressed her happiness at seeing Mikasa alive and well. She then mentioned that this historic event would not have been possible without the information pointing to the existence of an Azumabito descendant in Paradis, which was provided to her by Zeke Jaeger during a meeting prior to their visit to the island.
Kiyomi revealed that she and Zeke had reached an agreement through the intermediation of a man between Paradis and Hizuru. During their meeting, Zeke disclosed to Kiyomi that his mother, Dina, was a descendant of the Fritz family, and therefore, he possessed royal blood. Jaeger added that he had kept this fact hidden from the Marleyan government while serving as the leader of the Warrior unit.
Kiyomi wondered why someone loyal to Marley would act in such a manner, and Zeke responded that it was because he had inherited his father's ideology, identifying himself as a legitimate restorer of Eldia. Kiyomi seemed puzzled by this revelation, and Zeke clarified the situation by mentioning that he had to sell out his parents to the Marleyan government when he was only seven years old, as they were close to discovering the whereabouts and identities of the restorers led by Grisha.
Knowing that not only the rebels but also himself and his grandparents would likely be sent to Paradis and transformed into Titans, Zeke made the decision to turn them all in to keep himself and his grandparents safe. He claimed that although his parents were right, they were always quite gullible, adding that the group they led mostly spent their time playing at being rebels. For this reason, Zeke believed they could never have successfully restored the Eldian Empire, and by completely distancing himself from them, he was able to rise through the ranks of the Marleyan military, even though it meant trampling on Paradis and killing the very Eldians he was supposed to save.
Zeke continued his speech by recounting that thanks to Marley's operation to seize the power of the Founding Titan, the restoration of Eldia could be possible, mainly due to the government's ignorance of Zeke's royal blood. He mentioned that Marley was currently unaware of what could happen if the holder of the Founding Titan came into contact with a Titan of royal blood.
Kiyomi seemed pensive upon hearing these words, then mentioned that although they were indeed searching for the scattered descendants of the Azumabito family throughout the world, they could not ignore the fact that the restoration of the Eldian Empire would pose a grave risk to humanity. She told Zeke that the best course of action for her would be to inform Marley about their meeting.
Zeke appeared understanding, and before Kiyomi could make a decision, he pulled out the ODM gear he had stolen from Mike Zacharius, describing it as a device designed by the Eldians of Paradis to kill Titans. Zeke gifted it to Kiyomi but clarified that to make it work, a special fuel known as Ice Burst Stone was needed, which only existed in the underground of Paradis.
Zeke mentioned that since ancient times, the King of the Walls had created enormous craters in Paradis and deposited vast quantities of these stones in them, of which there should still be some residue inside the ODM gear. He added that while the inhabitants of the island were unaware of the monetary value of this mineral, the people of Hizuru should be fully conscious of it, which is why both nations could unite.
Back in the meeting room, Kiyomi spoke about the island's resources that Zeke had mentioned, unconsciously drooling at the thought of the immense wealth they could bring to her nation. Aaron noticed this and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Historia asked what she and Zeke had negotiated, and Kiyomi explained Zeke's secret plan, adding that Hizuru's intervention was necessary to carry it out.
She then outlined three processes that needed to be executed to activate "The Rumbling." The first process was to activate the power experimentally to test its destructive potential. The second was Hizuru's intervention in modernizing the military within the walls, which required introducing reforms in the island's education, economy, and diplomacy, as well as a progressive growth of the population.
Kiyomi added that compared to the rest of the world, Paradis was about 100 years behind, and emerging from this underdevelopment would take at least half a century, so the power of the Earth's trembling had to be used to protect the island during that entire time.
Kiyomi mentioned that two people were needed to use this power: one who possessed the Founding Titan and another of royal blood who held the power of a Titan. This led to the third of Zeke's procedures, in which he specified that he would pass the power of the Beast Titan to a person of royal blood, and this individual would be responsible for having offspring during the thirteen years of life they were allowed to live.
Hange carefully considered the situation, wondering if it was truly right to bequeath their current problems to the next generations. Historia stood up from her seat and decided to take on the responsibility of following through with Zeke's plan if it guaranteed their survival.
Eren disagreed with her, saying that if they could only achieve freedom after allowing their land to be defiled and their children to be raised as cattle to go straight to the slaughterhouse, then he refused to accept Zeke's plan.
Zackly argued that there was no other option and that they must respect Historia's will. Aaron slammed his fist on the table, his emerald eyes flashing with a fierce, unyielding light. "I won't do any of that," he declared, his voice low and dangerous. "I won't sacrifice Historia or Leah. There's no deal. Zeke can take his plan and shove it up his ass."
Zackly scoffed, his expression one of disdain and contempt. "The will of the Queen and the military faction are above you, Mustang," he said, his voice dripping with condescension.
Aaron rose to his feet, his tall, muscular form practically vibrating with a quiet, seething rage. "No, they're not," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, unwavering conviction. "I hereby proclaim myself as the official King, with the support and will of my wife, and the backing of the Survey Corps."
Hange nodded, her expression one of fierce loyalty and determination. "And the support of the Military Police," she added, her voice ringing out clear and strong.
Neil nodded, and the members of the Military Police who were present raised their weapons in a show of support. Aaron's lips curved into a small, triumphant smile. "Not to mention the support of the people," he said, his voice filled with a quiet, unshakable confidence. "I'm sure they'll be more than happy to stand behind me."
Zackly glared at him, his eyes blazing with a fierce, impotent fury. Kiyomi cleared her throat, her expression one of polite detachment. "Well, we can postpone the meeting if you'd like," she said, her voice smooth and diplomatic.
Aaron shook his head, his eyes flashing with a fierce, unwavering determination. "That won't be necessary," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, unyielding intensity. "We'll proceed with Zeke's plan, and that's final."
Eren's eyes widened, his expression one of shock and disbelief. "You're really going to sacrifice your own wife?" he asked, his voice rising with a mix of anger and incredulity.
Aaron met his gaze, his emerald eyes flashing with a strange, almost manic intensity. "No," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, unwavering conviction. "But I'll think of something. Maybe it would be best to destroy the entire world with the Rumbling."
A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of Eren and Aaron's labored breathing as they stared each other down, their eyes locked in a fierce, unwavering battle of wills.
Finally, Aaron spoke, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost resigned intensity. "But either way, if I have to go to Marley myself and kidnap someone with royal blood, I will."
.....
Months had passed since the fateful meeting with the Hizuru delegation, and Aaron and Historia found themselves craving a moment of respite from the endless political machinations and military strategizing that consumed their days. And so, on a warm, sunny afternoon, the royal couple donned simple, nondescript clothing and ventured out into the bustling streets of the capital, their faces hidden beneath the hoods of their cloaks.
They wandered aimlessly for a time, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company and the anonymity that their disguises afforded them. Eventually, they found themselves drawn to the warm, inviting glow of a small tavern, its weathered wooden sign creaking in the gentle breeze.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of smoke and ale, and the sound of raucous laughter and clinking glasses filled the room. Aaron and Historia made their way to a small, secluded table in the back, their movements careful and measured as they sought to avoid drawing attention to themselves.
They ordered a simple meal of stew and bread, and a flagon of the tavern's finest ale to wash it down. As they ate and drank, they talked and laughed, their voices low and conspiratorial as they shared stories and memories of happier times.
But unbeknownst to them, a pair of sharp, calculating eyes watched them from the shadows, a figure cloaked in mystery and danger. Noah, the long-lost brother of Aaron, had been observing the royal couple for some time, his mind churning with dark, twisted thoughts of revenge and retribution.
As Aaron and Historia finished their meal and prepared to leave, Noah made his move. He approached their table, his movements smooth and confident, a charming smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost mocking intensity. "I couldn't help but notice your impressive physique, sir. You look like a man who knows his way around a fight."
Aaron raised an eyebrow, his expression one of wary curiosity. "I've been known to hold my own," he said, his voice low and guarded.
Noah's smile widened, his eyes glinting with a strange, almost predatory intensity. "Well then, perhaps you'd be interested in a friendly game of arm wrestling?" he asked, his voice filled with a quiet, almost taunting challenge. "I've been looking for a worthy opponent, and you seem like you might just fit the bill."
Historia leaned forward, her eyes shining with a fierce, unwavering confidence in her husband's strength and prowess. "Go on, love," she said, her voice low and filled with a quiet, unwavering conviction. "Show him what you're made of. There's no one in this world who can match your strength."
Aaron hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to Historia's face with a look of uncertainty. But as he met her gaze, he saw the faith and trust that shone there, and he felt his own resolve strengthen in response.
"Alright," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, unwavering determination. "Let's do this."
The two men made their way to a nearby table, their movements slow and deliberate as they sized each other up. As they took their seats across from each other, Noah couldn't help but marvel at the sheer power and strength that radiated from Aaron's form, the coiled, rippling muscles that strained against the fabric of his shirt.
But he also sensed something else, a strange, almost otherworldly energy that seemed to pulse and throb just beneath the surface of Aaron's skin. It was a power that Noah had never encountered before, a force that both thrilled and terrified him in equal measure.
As they clasped hands and began to strain against each other, Noah felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins, his heart pounding in his chest as he pitted his own formidable strength against that of his long-lost brother.
At first, it seemed as though the two men were evenly matched, their muscles straining and bulging as they struggled for dominance. But slowly, inexorably, Noah began to gain the upper hand, his lips curving into a small, triumphant smile as he felt Aaron's grip begin to weaken and falter.
With a final, wrenching burst of strength, Noah slammed Aaron's hand down onto the table, the sound of flesh and bone colliding with wood echoing through the suddenly silent tavern.
Historia gasped, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief as she stared at her husband's defeated form. Aaron himself seemed stunned, his expression one of confused, almost dazed incomprehension as he rubbed at his bruised and aching wrist.
Noah leaned back in his chair, his smile widening into a broad, almost mocking grin. "Well, well," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost gleeful intensity. "It seems I may have underestimated you, friend. Might I ask your name?"
Aaron hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to Historia's face with a look of uncertainty. But as he met her gaze, he saw the silent plea there, the unspoken message to keep their true identities hidden at all costs.
"Jean," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost resigned intensity. "And this is my wife, Sasha."
Noah's eyes narrowed, his smile twisting into a cruel, mocking sneer. "A man who cannot even tell the truth about his own name," he said, his voice dripping with disdain and contempt. "And here I thought you might be someone worth knowing."
He leaned forward, his eyes flashing with a sudden, almost manic intensity. "I know who you really are," he hissed, his voice low and filled with a quiet, seething rage. "And I know what you did to my sister. How you seduced her, used her, and then cast her aside like a piece of trash."
Aaron's eyes widened, his expression one of confused, almost panicked incomprehension. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, almost desperate intensity. "I've never met your sister, I swear it."
Noah let out a bark of harsh, mocking laughter, the sound grating and discordant in the stillness of the tavern. "Liar," he spat, his voice dripping with venom and contempt. "You think I wouldn't recognize the man who ruined my sister's life, who left her broken and alone to raise your bastard child?"
Without warning, he lashed out with a sudden, vicious kick, his foot connecting with Aaron's chest and sending him flying backwards into the wall behind him. Aaron hit the ground hard, his breath leaving him in a painful, gasping rush as he struggled to regain his footing.
Historia screamed, her eyes wide with terror and disbelief as she watched her husband crumple to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. But even as she moved to rush to his side, Aaron was already pushing himself back to his feet, his eyes blazing with a fierce, unyielding determination.
"Alright," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, seething rage. "You want to do this the hard way? Let's dance, you son of a bitch."
With a roar of pure, unbridled fury, Aaron launched himself at Noah, his fists flying in a blur of motion as he rained down blow after punishing blow on his opponent's body. Noah staggered back, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he felt the sheer, overwhelming force of Aaron's assault.
But even as he reeled from the onslaught, Noah couldn't help but feel a strange, almost perverse sense of satisfaction. This was the Aaron he had been waiting for, the true warrior king of Paradis, the man who had earned his fearsome reputation through blood and sweat and sheer, unyielding determination.
They traded blows back and forth, their bodies moving in a deadly, almost hypnotic dance of violence and aggression. Aaron's knuckles split and bled as he pounded away at Noah's face and chest, his emerald eyes blazing with a fierce, almost manic intensity.
Noah fought back with equal ferocity, his own fists connecting with Aaron's jaw and ribs in a series of sickening, bone-crunching impacts. But even as he felt the pain of each blow, even as he tasted the coppery tang of his own blood on his tongue, he couldn't help but revel in the sheer, primal thrill of the battle.
Historia watched from the sidelines, her heart pounding in her chest as she witnessed the brutal, almost animalistic savagery of the fight. She had never seen Aaron like this before, had never seen him so consumed by rage and fury and sheer, unbridled aggression.
And yet, even as she watched him take blow after punishing blow, even as she saw the blood and bruises that marred his once-perfect face, she couldn't help but feel a strange, almost perverse sense of pride. This was her husband, her king, the man who would stop at nothing to protect her and their child.
As the fight wore on, however, Historia began to notice a change in Aaron's demeanor. His movements grew slower, more labored, his breath coming in short, painful gasps as he struggled to keep up with Noah's relentless assault.
"What's happening to you?" she cried, her voice rising with a mix of fear and disbelief. "Why are you letting him win?"
Her words seemed to galvanize Aaron, to snap him out of the daze of pain and exhaustion that had settled over him like a fog. With a roar of pure, unbridled determination, he surged forward, his knee connecting with Noah's face in a sickening, crunching impact that sent the other man staggering backwards.
Noah wiped the blood from his mouth, his eyes glinting with a strange, almost manic intensity. "Are you going to tell me your real name now?" he asked, his voice low and filled with a quiet, taunting challenge.
But Aaron remained silent, his eyes blazing with a fierce, unwavering resolve. Noah shrugged, his lips twisting into a small, almost rueful smile. "You know, I think I may have confused you with someone else," he said, his voice filled with a quiet, almost mocking intensity. "Do you know a woman named Yuli, by any chance?"
Aaron shook his head, his expression one of confused, almost wary incomprehension. "No," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet, unwavering conviction. "I've never heard that name before in my life."
Noah nodded, his smile widening into a broad, almost apologetic grin. "My mistake, then," he said, his voice filled with a quiet, almost rueful intensity. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. Have a pleasant evening."
And with that, he turned and strode out of the tavern, his long coat billowing behind him like a banner in the wind. As he stepped out into the cool, crisp air of the night, he reached up to touch his nose, wincing slightly at the sharp, lancing pain that shot through his face.
"Broken," he muttered, his lips twisting into a small, almost rueful smile. "My dear brother Aaron, I only wanted to test your strength, to see if you were truly worthy of the title of King. And now, I know that you are."
He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a strange, almost manic intensity. "Soon, I will fulfill my true purpose, my destiny. And when that day comes, you will know the true meaning of suffering and despair."
And with that, he disappeared into the shadows of the night, his heart filled with a dark, twisted sense of anticipation and bloodlust. The game had only just begun, and he knew that the true test of his brother's strength and resolve was yet to come.