Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kohta Yamamoto: All of the freedoms

Year 735, the Eldian military headquarter

Steam blasts from the pulp that used to be a titan. Blood seeps everywhere, when he pulls the screaming and kicking boy out from the heat. Most shifters are barely conscious once done fighting, but this one's always had a strange ability to just stay awake. Birk holds tightly onto him, like he always does, when Markell has his fits of rage. But today it’s different: today he’s desperate, like a scared animal crept up in a corner. Today he killed someone, and tried to kill even more. Today, Birk doesn’t just have to wait for him to cool down, but has to drag him off to meet his judgement.

Mathilda comes running, because she can never mind her own business. Most of the time, Birk doesn’t understand why she even comes along on missions, considering she rarely does anything. He assumes it’s the king’s way of showing dominance: that the shifters stick together.

Her hand clutches harshly around Markell’ arm, as she begins to yell at him, so out of it that it all just comes out as nonsense with no end nor beginning. She’s in shock, like they all are, except for Markell who continues to scream and kick and attempt to escape Birk’s grip on him.

“I have to save her!” he yells, his teenage voice doing a pathetic crack. “Birk, if I don’t do it now, then—then she will—”

His voice dies out when Birk promptly bashes the kid’s head into the cold ground. It won’t kill him. Markell’ body will just regenerate again, and he’ll become conscious sooner than they can get him back to the capital, but still he can feel the burn of tears in his eyes. Birk’s throat feels tight and sore, as he keeps in the sobs that are trying to escape. It can all wait till he’s alone, till this is all over.

Markell hits and screams and kicks. His fingers clutch around Birk’s shirt, fingernails digging so harshly into his skin, that they draw blood. Tiny red spots appear on the pale fabric, causing Birk’s breath to hitch as he desperately attempt to calm down the boy.

“Don’t let her eat me!” Markell cries out in an agonizing scream that causes Birk’s blood to run cold. His tone of voice is riddled with pure terror, but who can blame him? Birk himself is itching to get off the ground, where a stray mindless titan who haven’t been cleaned up yet can come running. And then both he and Markell will become a titan snack.

“Come on Markell, let’s go” he mutters low, “everything will be alright, if you just follow along without fighting.”

But the teen continues to trash around. He’s always been so quick to rage, so violent, though he has always been the youngest. Back then though, Michel was always around to calm him down. Back then Markell’s temper hadn’t caused any deaths yet.

“I killed them! I killed them, didn’t I?! It should all be over now, I’ve saved her!”

Thud, Birk throws the boy over his shoulder and begins to march through the rubble, back towards the camp, where they’ll take Markell into custody.

“Yes, you did. She’s safe now.” Birk agrees, though he has no idea what the teen is rambling about. His head must be all scrambled eggs by now, after getting beat so harshly in his titan form. There is none left of the little coherence he had possessed before.

Mathilda has gone quiet, but trails behind them like a wolf on hunt. Not that he planned to, but if Birk or Markell were to make just one slight, wrong move, she’d pounce quicker than he’d ever be able to react. Her blue eyes are like ice against his skill, causing cold shivers down his back.

“It’ll be alright” he mumbles to Markell, who’s finally calming down.

“Just breathe.”

Chapter Text

Year 740, Capital

Elaine suspects someone has taken a massive rock, and continually hammered it into her head while she dozed off. Her head hurts like a bitch and her brain feels like pudding, she can’t fully feel her feet. But her butt is sore, that is certain. And the carriage, which she appears to be tied to, is quickly rolling down a bumpy road. In front of her is a blonde girl, who appears to be not much older than Elaine herself. The light hair is messy from the wind, which blows right through it. She’s reading a book, but quickly puts it away with a smile on her lips, when she sees that Elaine has awoken.

On the girl’s finger sits a silver ring. The Adelstein family symbol, which is engraved into the metal, causes Elain’s stomach to turn. She’s wearing a long military jacket in a deep red color, and on her tie sits a yellow badge of glass. It reflects in the setting sun, making it appear almost orange.

“I was beginning to think you would never wake up, sleepyhead.” She says, voice soft and sweet like honey, but unable to bite the sting it leaves behind.

“Where are we going?” Elaine croaks, noticing just how dry her throat is.

“To the capital, where you will have your trial. Do you remember anything at all?”

“Trial?” it feels as if Elaine have just woken up after a long dream. Everything seems to be in a haze and difficult to understand. Her memory is fuzzy.

“No, no I don’t remember a thing. Not anything past—”

“Past getting injected?” the girl tries, but Elaine just shakes her head.

“No, not even. I don’t remember anything past getting off the boat. They—they sold me. My family really sold me to become a mindless titan.”

“They did. And you did become one, briefly, until you somehow managed to eat our Warhammer shifter.”

“What?” It feels as if someone has poured cold water over Elain.

“That is right.” The girl leans back, something that resembles a proud smile on her lips. Like she’s proud to be the one to deliver the news, or perhaps because she finds it funny.

“I—” Elaine starts, feeling dizzy, “I ate one of the… one of…”

“I think it was just bad timing: Hasselhoff, that idiot, was getting out of his titan and did not look out for himself. He was an old fart, anyway. A stupid, old, fart. And then a mindless titan—you, came running from around a corner. Because somehow, we had not gotten around to finish you off yet. I bet it was Hasselhoff himself who was supposed to clean you up, but decided to slack off and go home early instead.” The girl chuckles amidst her rant, but then continues:

“—then you came running and gobbled him right up. He did not even have time to scream, nor did I have time to count the seconds. You must have bene hungry, were you poor before they turned you?”

“Do you think my family would have sold me to be used as a trashcan for random Marleyans, if we weren’t poor and desperately needed the money?”

“Oh, you bite. I like that.” The girl giggles and stands up, as the carriage comes to a halt.

“But I hope you will be more polite towards the judge. Just so he, you know, does not order for you to be executed. That would be a shame, I like you already.”

Men in military uniforms drag her into a massive court hall. Their steps ring out into the silence, as the audience quietly watch from the sidelines. And Elaine keeps her head down, as she so often does. Partially because she knows well that these people are powerful. Partially also because she doesn’t wish for them to see her face. Her hair is oily and messy, clothes ragged and dirty.

The men throws Elaine to the cold floor of stone, and her knees ache from the collision. No one says or does anything to ensure that she’s okay, not that she’d ever expect them to. Instead, the soldiers tie her already tied hands to a pole, which forces her to look up. Tears wells up in Elaine’s eyes, at the embarrassment of being showcased like this in front of the mighty audience.

In front of her raises the marble into a small hill against the wall, causing that particular area to sit much higher than the rest of the room. On the hill there is a large throne and a table. A man around his thirties sits there calmy, looking Elaine up and down with mild interest, though by the way he rests his head on a bejeweled hand, he seems rather bored. Like there’s far more important things, which he could be doing as of right now.

By his side is a smaller chair paired with a smaller table on each side. This all seems like a larger scaled court room, compared to the one they have back in the stone district. Though Elaine never had been the one to neither judge nor be judged, she had been there from time to time as witness.

“Subject 849, you have been brought to court today, under the claim which you in the form of a mindless titan, has consumed one of the nine titan shifters serving the Eldian empire. Do you object?” the man speaks, breaking the silence.

His voice is like a low rumble and his thick, brown brows fury in concentration, as he reads aloud from the paper in his hands. Elaine opens her mouth in an attempt to speak; to say something. To deny—though there’s no doubt of what she’s done.

But no words comes, and the fear creeps in on her. From his high throne, the bearded man who just spoke, awaiting stares into her soul.

“I repeat: Do you deny the following claims?”

“I—” Elaine stutters, her voice rough, “I can neither deny nor confirm. I have no recollection of what has happened beyond my recruitment to the Eldian military forces.”

Recruitment, the word stings. Elaine was in no way recruited.

“Is that so? In that case, bring out the first witness.”

Someone steps out from the flock of dark blue clad military officers. Elaine has seen them around a few times, but never up close: the elite, non-titan military force who serves the throne. They usually stay in the capital where the king resides, though occasionally they will travel out to some of the districts when disasters strike and further military protection is needed.

“The subject appeared in the form of a mindless titan, about thirteen meters tall, and ate officer Hasselhoff in one full bite. Afterwards, she began to smoke as the body disappeared, and I ran to cut her out of the decaying body to take her into custody.

Sun peeps in through the mosaic windows, casting a red light onto the blonde-haired man. His face is sharp and stiff, his eyes dark as he with a bored full glance looks everywhere but at Elaine.

“Thank you, Birk.” The man on the highchair says, waving a hand in signal for the blonde man—Birk, to exit. “Will the next witness step forward?”

“Why bother?” A voice rings out, causing a wave of heads turning to the same area, which Birk had emerged from.

Another blonde man, only slightly taller than Birk. But instead of the bored look, which the other man had worn, this newcomer looks to be on the verge of laughing, as if this is all fun to him.

“Your majesty,” he begins, “the only witnesses are the shifters themselves, and they will all tell you the same: this is undoubtedly the one who ate old Hasselhoff. So skip us the formalities, and make your judgement so we can move on with our lives.”

“I don’t remember anyone asking for your intervention, Tubyr.” The man on the highchair says.

“I still found it necessary. As will I offer this lovely woman here, to stand in as her defendant.”

A shocked mutter echoes through the hall, Elaine doesn’t know what to think. She’s never been on trial before.

The man on the highchair, the king, Elain assumes, tiredly runs a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh so loud, that it causes the noise from the audience to end.

“Very well then. Will the plaintiff please step forwards?”

Another man in blue uniform steps out, but this time from the opposite site.

“Present your case.”

“This woman is from the group of citizens who arrived from the stone district. She is poor, uncivilized and have in no way whatsoever, trained nor earned the honor of possessing the ability of the titans. I believe we would be better off, feeding her to a more qualified candidate.”

“Such as who? Yourself?” the blond man, Tubyr, bites. “Old Hasselhoff was the last member of his family: the Dietrich boy made sure of that back then—”

Another wave of muttering surges through the audience, Elaine holds her breath as the man continues:

“Unless you’ve managed to find some secret Hasselhoff, I fear there’s none left to take over the Warhammer titan. That means if miss—” he glances at Elaine, “what’s your name?”

“Elaine Sommer, sir.” She croaks.

“That means if miss Sommer is convicted, the inheritor of the titan will be one of the rich bootlickers of his majesty. Such as yourself, Dorfman.”

“That is not what I'm trying to make happen, Mr. Tybur.” Dorfman spits and looks at his majesty by the podium.

“—I simply find it deeply concerning that the royal house is not repulsed by the sight of the Warhammer in the hands of this-” Dorfman, on the left, glances disgusted down upon Elaine. “Street dog.”

“Yet this street-dog most likely will wield it much better than you ever could.” Tubyr bites back before looking directly at the king as well, his voice turning sugary sweet.

 “Your Majesty: Sir Hasselhoff only had a year left of his life, and none of his bloodline to inherit the powers of the mighty Warhammer. I suggest we keep this young miss Sommer, bring her to the base, let the others take her in and teach the ways of the royal household. She’ll do us good. It’ll mark the beginning of a new era.”

“An era of letting bitches in from the street!” someone calls out from the audience.

“Yeah! What do we even know about her? What if she is a whore? Or if she wishes death upon the king! She cannot be trusted!” someone else continues.

“Do you really believe she’s less likely to backstab his majesty, than the rest of you lot are? Or will you just get nothing out if, in case she does?”

BANG

The hall turns quiet; all attention is once again to his majesty.

“I have made my decision.” He says, causing Elaine’s heart to skip a beat.

“Miss Sommer will be escorted back to the base, where the other shifters will explain everything to her. She will sleep among them, train with them and become one of them: When time comes, Sommer will prove whether or not she deserves to remain as the carrier of the Warhammer titan.”

A shiver runs down Elaine’s spine, a sob stuck on her tongue. She continually stares daggers onto the marble floor, wondering how this all came to be, and what her life has become. What will they think back home? If they ever find this out, that is. To them, Elaine is as good as dead: That’s what everyone who’s sold to be turned to mindless titans is.

Someone pulls her up by the arms. Her hay-like hair hangs loose, and she hopes it covers her face, so the judgmental crowd doesn’t get the chance of getting a glance of the bitch from the street, who will now serve as the Warhammer titan.

God, the Warhammer titan. How did her life come to this. The name repeats itself again and again in her head, like it’s broken.

“I am so happy they let you live!” Mathilda screeches excitedly, but keeps her distance.

They’re standing outside of the court hall by the carriage they arrived with. The sun is setting and it’s getting cooler. Elaine glances down herself to inspect the dirty, ragged dress she’s been wearing for God-knows how long. Its color is all faded by now: and Elaine herself is aware of how badly she must smell. After all, she is all nothing but a bitch from street in their eyes.

“Who’d known they’d actually let you live.” A man, probably ten years Elaine’s senior mutters by Mathilda’s side.

He’s also wearing the deep red uniform which, by the looks of the people surrounding Elaine, belongs exclusively to the titan shifters. There’s seven with herself included present as of now: she counts two other girls, as well as four men. All of different ages and builds, but sporting the same serious grimace. with the exception of Mathilda.

“How could they not, with me as her defendant?”

Tubyr appears from somewhere behind Elaine. His smile is smug and confident. He’s even taller this up close. The sandy blond her is neatly styled and cut short, unlik the man next to him, who looks a lot less neat, though just as collected. Otherwise, the two men in blue, could easily pass as siblings, although something purely instinctual tells Elaine it’s far from  the truth. Birk, she think the other one’s name was. Is he also a Tubyr? Maybe a cousin, or something of the degree.

“It’s good to know you haven’t changed a bit since we last met, Ralph.” A woman with red hair calmly says.

Ralph Tubyr laughs, showcasing a large set of perfect, white teeth. “Oh please, you’d be deeply disappointed if I had.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

“You wound me, all of you. Say something to them Birk, tell them to stop bullying me after making sure they won’t be stuck with Dorfman.”

“I’d rather not.” Birk mumbles.

“We need to get going.” Mathilda suddenly bites, her tone far from the cheerful one she earlier had used. “Hammer-girl here needs to get settled into her room, before the sun sets completely.”

“Well, don’t let us hold you guys back,” Ralph raises his hands defensively, turning them into a wave of goodbye.

“Let us get going Elaine.”

Elaine, like an obedient puppy, follows Mathilda into their chariot. Once again, she sits opposite the girl, not even daring to even spare the idea of sitting next to her a thought. This turns out to be a good idea; as the brown-haired girl soon follows, squeezing into the empty place next to Mathilda.

“This is Gudrun, once we get to the base, she will be the one to show you around.”

Elaine nods, Mathilda continues:

“She is the carrier of the female titan; her family, the Otto family has owned it for about two-hundred years.”

“Female titan you say, does that mean men can’t use it?” Elaine asks.

“It varies.” Gudrun says, “Most times, when a man in possession of it attempts to transform, he just creates a quite useless, already disappearing titan form. On rare occasions, a man will be able to create a fully functional titan, it just has female traits.”

“How interesting.”

Gudrun shrugs, “That’s just how Ymir made it work. Therefore in my family, we also aim to give birth to a lot of girls, and make sure we inherit the titan. In most other families, they prioritize the boys.”

“My younger brother carried the colossal before I did.” Mathilda grumbles, “And he was shit at it. Sometimes the higherups forget, that Ymir herself was a woman. Obviously, we get the work done best.”

“I noticed there was two shifters missing; are there any other female shifters?”

The two women opposite her shares a glance.

“Well, one of the missing was the King himself—the man who judged you.” Mathilda starts, “I do not know how much you are taught, back in the districts…”

“Very little. We’re told there’s nine titan shifters, who sacrifice their lives to protect our kingdom, and that we need to respect them. We’re not to critique you.”

“Well then, the King always carries the Founder titan: the first titan, which Ymir was. He is the strongest of us, but rarely—”

“Never” Gudrun monotonal breaks in.

“Rarely does any field work.”

“I see.”

“The other one missing was Morgan: but she’s always missing.”

“Oh? Is she ill?”

“No” Mathilda barks a bitter laughter, “She believes she is too good for us and our work. ‘Would rather waste her time with Birk and Ralph—you met those two, as well as Karl, the King’s useless brother. But her family has always been weird. I would tell you to stay away from her, but I highly doubt she will ever make an attempt to interact with you anyways.”

The chariot comes to a halt; Elaine is unsure how much time has passed. But when the door to the ride is opened, the sun has almost gone all the way down by the horizon, leaving the outside cold and dark.

“That doesn’t sound very productive.” She says, stepping out as the last.

Gudrun sighs,

“Better get used to it.”

-

“This will be where you sleep.”

The room is small, compared to absolute fort they call a base: large buildings of stone with long hallways, towers and outside areas. Elaine’s room is at the highest floor of one of the tallest square buildings, which Gudrun had explained belonged to the female shifters.

“Your families, do they live here too?” Elaine had asked.

“Yes and no.” the female titan shifter had answered, “my younger sister is to take over me, so she lives her to train. My youngest daughter, who is too old to live with the nanny back at my family estate with her siblings and the rest, lives here with me as well.”

“I see. So is it only the one’s incapable of taking care of themselves, and the successors?

“Yes.”

“What will I do if I’m approved to keep the Warhammer?”

“I don’t know,” Gudrun sounded bored, “that’s all up to you. Will you start breeding like a rabbit, attempt to create a new bloodline to keepsake the titan? Or will you simply choose the next to have it. It’s all up too you and frankly, I couldn’t care less.”

They’re still standing by the open door, looking into the room. It has a large window that overlooks the plaza they’d arrived by, when the chariot had stopped. A large bed is stashed by the walls, orange curtains hanging for privacy. Many small, golden emblems showcasing a hammer are engraved into them. Otherwise it’s simple: a wooden desk, a wooden chair, then a larger, more comfortable chair in orange fabric. One massive closet takes up the entire southern wall, which Elaine silently prays isn’t empty. The floor is partially covered by a carpet, and a candle rack is lit, showering the room in a warm, yellow light.

This is fancier than anything Elaine has ever seen, yet had the chance to sleep in. And for a moment, she’s stunned. Then the sound of footsteps sound, further down the hallway, Gudrun casts a glance into the dark.

“That’ll be Morgan.”

The sound of footsteps—it sounds like leather boots, just like the ones Gudrun and Mathilda’s wearing. And they’re coming closer. Clack, clack, clack they say. Elaine barely catches a glance of the woman as she passes, who doesn’t even give as much as a sign of having noticed her and Gudrun’s presence.

“Don’t expect any other behavior from her: she’s strange and a bitch. But I also met her family, so I can’t say I’m neither surprised, nor able to blame Morgan a bit for her way of being.”

Ealine doesn’t say, that she finds everyone she’s met today to be very strange. Alors, she just nods in silent agreement.

“How about my clothes?”

“Tonight you can sleep in some of my bedtime clothes. First thing tomorrow, someone will come and take your measurements, so you can be provided with a uniform in the correct size and some daily items. The uniform itself is simple, and you will be expected to wear it for all of your duty-connected activities. That includes slacks, a button up—please make sure it gets washed, as well as the shifter dedicated coat.”

“Okay.” Elaine breathlessly let’s out, unsure what to say.

“Now get some sleep” Gudrun says with a small smile. The first one Elaine saw from her so fair. Her downwards eyes crumbles upwards a tiny bit, and her heart shaped lips curl.

“You will need all the energy you can get for tomorrow. I will go pick you up at eight for breakfast; be ready.”