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itslieutenanthawkeye · 3 years ago

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Jeankasa Royal AU: A Knight's Mission

Sir Jean Kirstein has been sent to hizuru by the Yaegar brothers with one goal: become princess Azumabito’s close guard and pave the way to betray and conquest the eastern country. But the hizuran princess is much lovelier than what he imagined. Can Jean’s loyalty stay with the yaegar brothers or will it tilt towards the woman he may, or may not, be falling in love with?

AO3

The capital city of Hizuru, Heian-kyo, is thrice as large as some eldian cities. Flanked on all sides by tall, snowy-peaked mountains and home to about two million citizens, it is the largest city in the eastern country. Despite the high altitude, the noise and music and laughter in the city equal –or maybe rival— the cold winds blowing from the mountains.

The royal palace, built beautifully halfway up one of the tallest peaks, is nothing like it.

I curse lowly as I’m being led through the passageways of the Azumabito palace, with its sliding doors, quiet servants, and even quieter rooms. There’s the sound of running water coming from somewhere to my right, perhaps it’s the famous gardens I was told about on my induction —a gift from one of the previous empresses to her emperor, a place of peace and quietness so they could grow old together. Although in all honesty, the last things this place needs are peace and quiet.

Some faint music would be fine, I think as I find myself missing the horrid sound from Reiner’s little cousin practicing the violin. I guess I would even take a whole concert of that if it meant breaking the perpetual silence of the palace.

I look to my right, noticing that Marco looks calmer than Reiner and I put together. I’m not surprised; he helped the Yaegar brothers concoct the plan to gain Hizuru’s vast territory, free its people from a monarchy and, above all, get Eldia’s claws on their precious mines.

“Take a deep breath,” Marco whispers, his voice as serene as the rest of the palace. The servant, a tiny girl in a simple kimono, is far away from us that she won’t hear. “She will be pleased with us.”

We’re presents, gifts sent to look after the princess by her fiancée in Eldia, her political alliance once she comes of age, Eren. He chose us well; the three of us are nice to the eyes, charming to a degree. If the princess takes a liking for any of us, we might be granted the charge of close guard for either the princess or her guardian, and then it’ll be an easy task to learn the secrets of the castle, be aware of its military routes… all in all, we’ll know more details how to overthrow the teenage ruler and free the people.

By taking over Hizuru, we will give Zeke Yaegar access to the hizuran mines, and we’llhave our hands filled with silver. Enough silver to leave knighthood, enough silver to convince a nice girl to marry me, enough silver to buy a whole castle.

If we manage to keep our heads on our shoulders, the grimmer side of my brain chirps in.

I shake my head, quite enjoying the fact that it is still attached to my body. This must work. It cannot go awry. If it does go awry and we manage to escape, I can imagine Zeke and Eren condemning us to a lifetime of menial tasks within the military, without a chance to become rich through any of their colonization schemes.

And if we don’t manage to escape…well, we all became acquainted with hizuran torture methods before coming. I’m not looking forward to dying, let alone be tortured.

“Jean,” Marco calls, giving me a sideways glance. We are standing at the doors of the throne room, where the princess and her guardian await us. The servant girls leading us have disappeared beyond the doors, perhaps to announce our presence us to the princess. “You need to stand straighter than that.”

Again, I do as Marco says. He’s much more put together than I, and a bit of me feels a twinge of jealousy of how good of a leader he is among our tiny group. He’s told me before I have much more leader material, however Zeke chose him to lead this expedition, not me.

“Are you okay?” Reiner asks at my side. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

I glare. “I’ve never met a proper royal before.”

“What about all those fancy folks in Eldia?”

“I meant I’ve never met a princess.” I say, shrugging, wondering what awaits us behind the door. Not much is known about hizuran royalty back home, and there are no pictures nor paintings of the hidden flower of Hizuru.

She might be hideous for all we know. All chances point to her being hideous if she refuses to get pictures or paintings of her face. Although I’m not sure if her being hideous will help or damage our attempts at charming our way into her private guard. If she’s hideous, I pity that poor Yaegar bastard.

“It doesn’t matter what she looks like,” Marco said, guessing his thoughts. “Remember we were sent for a reason.”

I look around, wondering what is up with his sudden burst of information, or if a group of guards will come get us from sniffing our betrayal in the air. But nobody comes; in fact, the palace is as quiet as before. Maybe it’s the way Marco talks, maybe that soft purr of his voice makes his words mingle with the eerie peace of the palace.

“What’s taking so long?” I say, looking away from Marco, clearing my throat.

“There’s an extremely specific etiquette to informing the princess of new guests in the palace. And then you add the etiquette of the Pine Room, it’ll take a few minutes,” Reiner replies, giving me a frown at the confusion in my face. “The Pine Room? The throne room, Jean. Do you not remember anything from our lessons? Did you not read the booklet?”

To be fair, I didn’t. We stopped by a seaside city on our way over, and that beautiful redhead had kept my attention from studying our booklets on the way before discarding them. “I’m an idiot.”

“Just remember, bow deeply, don’t raise your head until she allows you, let her speak first, call her imperial majesty when greeting her, then just call her princess,” Marco lists with a soft smile. “Walk ahead of her only when you are allowed, let her call you by your name.”

“Seems like a lot of fucking rules for a kid.” I reply.

“She’s not a kid,” Reiner says with an exasperated sigh. “She’s seventeen. Aren’t you eighteen yourself?”

“I have more life experience than a princess could ever have,” I say with a flirting smile, but then drop my stance at Marco and Reiner’s concerned gazes. “Alright, alright. I won’t screw up. I never do, remember?”

“Which is why Eren chose you as her present too.” Marco says with a wink, making me blush.

“Any other rules I should remember?”

This time it’s Reiner who answers. “Never call her by her name, never touch her.”

“What’s her name anyways?”

Marco leans into me, whispering even lower, almost looking fearful to pronounce the princess’ name too loud. “Mikasa, that’s her name.”

I mouth the syllables underneath. Mi-ka-sa. Huh. Doesn’t sound like a too awful name; not hard to pronounce anyways. Not that I’ll be using it much, mind you. Out of the three, it’s Marco the one who is more likely to charm the princess, to become her friend or lover, whatever he needs to get the information we need about Hizuru. He’s got a much softer demeanor; it doesn’t work much with girls at bars, but it will surely work with a princess. I can see the confidence in his face as the servant girl slides the door open.

We got this, that’s what his face says.

Two, three years, and we’ll be richer than god. Bless Eren for choosing us for this plan.

“The princess is ready to see you.”

We are led across an enormous room with wide windows at both sides, from which I can clearly see the city sprawled in a thousand different colors below. There are some people gathered in the chamber that stare at us as we walk by. From their clothes and expressions by seeing foreigners, I figure they’re not all royals. The princess must be holding audiences for her people.

I see her throne at the end of the room, and her sitting on it. But we are too far away for me to see anything but the deep blue color of her kimono. I stifle laughter; if she sits this far away from everyone, she must be horrid.

Two guards flank our way as we moved forward, and I fear troubles have begun already. We are taller than the hizuran guards, but they train for decades to become skilled at combat, and I’ve no doubt we would not win against them.

“Princess,” the servant girl says, talking in her direction. “Your gifts have arrived.”

“Please, let them come before me.” She says, and the soft cadence of her voice surprises me. She must be a good singer, I think hazily. And this must be some sort of ritual.

We walk ahead until we are standing about ten feet away from a screen seemingly made from crystal, which impedes anyone from walking any closer to her throne. Ah, it must be a security measure. A bulletproof screen to guard the princess form any madman that might sneak their way in the Pine Room while she holds audiences.

The three of us fall to our knees and bow, pressing our foreheads against the pristine floor. Again, I haven’t seen her royal face.

There is the soft shift of fabric on the wooden floor, and then tiny steps. “Rise, eldian knights, gifts of my future husband,” she says, in perfect eldian, to my surprise. “I would look upon your faces.”

I smile slightly at the silliness of it all, at the fancy words she is using to perfection, but my smile freezes the moment my gaze lands upon her face. And my first thought is that Eren Yaegar is the luckiest bastard in the world.

This princess is the most beautiful, perfect woman I’ve ever seen. Ever. She has gray eyes, jet black hair and is not as small as I thought she would be. Her face isn’t precisely hizuran, but it isn’t quite eldian either. It’s strange, but not unpleasant to the eye.

Who am I kidding? She’s a vision to look at.

“Thank you for your journey, knights of Eldia,” she says, her expression serene, giving away not much emotion. “Please, bring forth the bread and salt.”

Servants scurry around the room and bring us jade platters full of bread and salt. I blink, realizing they’ve accommodated to the eldian custom of sharing a meal with your guests to assure their lives will be well guarded while under the host’s roof.

I look at her as the servants make the long way from the entrance to the throne room. She wears no jewelry, and her kimono is of a wonderful shade of purple and silver. Her hair is not combed upwards in the traditional hizuran fashion. It’s long, beautiful and darker than night itself. I’ve seen dark before, but not like this. It is deep, tantalizing, beautiful.

Her gaze catches mine during the seconds we wait for the bread to arrive, and I look away instinctively. She noticed I was staring, I curse myself. Staring like an idiot is not the way to get her trust.

My eyes trail to the throne, and I notice another woman has been looking at me the whole time. I’m guessing that’s her guardian, Kiyomi Azumabito, and curse myself again. She won’t want a staring creep near her protégée.

The bread comes on a platter for each, and Mikasa —no, the princess. The princess has a platter too. We eat the tiny salted bread buns while looking at each other in silence. Once we are done, Mikasa cleans her hands on a towel one of her servants offers to her.

“Now, we have done your eldian tradition and you must know you are safe and welcome,” she says in that serious tone of voice. I wonder if she ever laughs. “I would like to know your names. Blond sir, please go first.”

“Reiner Braun, your imperial majesty,” Reiner says, bowing slightly. I hold the need to roll my eyes. We won’t have to bow each time we speak to her, will we?

“And I must call you?”

Another custom. I really should’ve read that booklet.

“Either is fine, your majesty.”

“You may call me princess.”

“Thank you, princess.”

Mikasa, the princess turns to Marco and he gives her a polite smile. Her face proposes the name question to him, and Marco catches the intention of her face quickly. “Marco Bodt, your imperial highness. You may call me as you wish.”

“Your face, I don’t know the eldian word for the dots,” she says, gesturing to the bridge of her own nose. I hold back another smile. She’s so cute. “What is the word? Oh, you may call me princess.”

Marco smiles charmingly, and I feel jealousy again. “Freckles, your highness.”

“Freckles,” the princess says, pronouncing the word as if she were tasting a new meal. So pretty. She looks at Marco, gives him a tight smile, stirring the fire of jealousy in my chest. Damn his freckles to hell. “Thank you, Sir Marco. You’ve given me the gift of a new word.”

Marco bows, and now I roll my eyes. What am I supposed to do after that? He just gave the princess knowledge. For a royal that owns a thousand mines, knowledge is the one thing one can give her to make her smile is knowledge.

“And you, sir?” She says expectantly. Our eyes meet again, and I feel the rush of blood to my cheeks. I gather my thoughts; I’m a knight. I’m here to betray her and get rich, not stare at her pretty self or get jealous from Marco making her smile.

I bow in the same way Reiner did. “Jean Kirstein, your imperial majesty.”

“Nice to meet you, Jean,” she says, then opens her eyes slightly, seemingly catching herself. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Kiyomi Azumabito narrowing hers. “How may I call you, sir?”

Yours, the rawest part of my mind shouts.

“You may use either, your imperial majesty.” I say, feeling my breath quicken at the thought of her slipping. What was it about me that made her slip? My looks? Or maybe she’s just trying to intimidate the creep that’s been ogling her?

“You may call me princess, Je—Sir Jean.” She says, stumbling a little with her words. She clears her throat. “You’re taller than most, aren’t you?”

Heads turn in our direction, and I guess this isn’t part of the protocol. My height has made her curious, which makes me feel like a proud little kid. “I am, princess.”

“Good sparring partner.” She mutters, more to herself than to the crowd, but the three of us hear her clearly. She looks at me again, and this time there’s nothing I can do to hide my blush. “Good knights, it seems. I am grateful to my future husband for his gift. We will see that you are well taken care of within court.”

“Thank you, princess.” We say at unison.

“I hear my husband wants to make you three part of my personal guard,” she says thoughtfully.

“Yes, princess.” Marco says.

“I appreciate my future husband’s will to look after me,” Mikasa says, and something in me suspects she’s keeping the protocol once again. “We will discuss these matters in future meetings. For now, please enjoy your dinner in your quarters and have a rest, my knights.”

Hearing her call us my knights almost turns me into a puddle. But I hide my feelings behind a mask of proudly knighthood. This mission isn’t to lust after a princess. This mission is to get rich. After I claim my part of the silver mines, I can woo as many princesses as I want.

“Thank you, princess.” We say at unison, and we are dismissed from the throne room.

The servant girl leads us to our room, a big, furniture-less chamber overlooking a series of hot spring pools for us alone. She explains to us how to lay out our futons on the curious tatami flooring, but my mind is on Mikasa. On the princess and her purple kimono and how much I would enjoy seeing it on the floor of our chambers. And her in the hot spring pool with me.

“Stop it,” Marco says after the servant girl leaves.

“Stop what?”

“Lusting after her. Crushing on her,” Marco says in a disapproving tone of voice. He’s figured it out. He knows me too well and knows when a woman catches my eye. “Jean, we are not here to crush out on a woman. We are here to—”

“I won’t try and sleep with her, Marco,” I reply, closing my eyes and throwing my back against the floor. “Just let me have my mind fun for a little while. She’s a beautiful girl.”

“She is indeed,” Reiner agrees as he examines the clothes they’d prepared for us. I wonder if they’ll let us wear our uniforms if we do manage to become her close guards. “Pretty eyes, and not even you can deny that, Marco.”

I open my eyes and notice that Marco raises his eyebrows. “She is a cute little thing.”

I frown. “I thought we weren’t here to just after her? Also, don’t call her a thing.”

“Now you’re protective of her?” Reiner asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Stop giving me that face, Kirstein. You were the one who was ogling her today. You cannot compromise the mission.”

“He won’t,” Marco assures him, patting my shoulder. “Jean just has an eye for pretty girls. The moment he sees another servant that catches his eye, he’ll stop being weird about the princess. Won’t you, Jean?”

“Yeah,” I shrug. “We should just stop talking about the princess altogether, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“If anyone hears us calling her a pretty little thing, we’ll get in trouble.” I reply with another shrug, and that seems to convince them. My intentions are slightly devious, though. Maybe I don’t want them to think of her the way I am. I don’t want them to call her pretty or think about her at all. I know we have a mission, and my eyes are on the silver at the end of the rainbow. But for now, the thoughts of the princess are all mine.

“How’s the liaison?” Reiner asks Marco. “Do we know who it is yet?”

“I’m sure they’ll show themselves soon.” Marco replies, and their conversation diverges into territory that isn’t related to women, far away from the princess. I sigh, trying to focus on their talk of hizuran customs and the architecture of the palace (subjects that might seem innocent to any casual listener) but my mind is on the princess and her pretty, serious face. It’d be fun to see her laugh at a point, but I don’t say this out loud.

For now, I want the image of her to be mine alone.

Maybe I’ll try to beat Marco at being her close guard.

___________________________

I enter the royal chamber and get rid of my kimono to walk about in my undergarments. Kiyomi is sitting on the far end of the room, and she gestures me to sit at her side to have our afternoon tea. I take the cup and walk out towards my garden, cringing at the idea of sitting down a moment longer.

I understand the need for audiences, and it is not that I don’t enjoy listening to queries from the citizens and solving as many problems as I’m allowed…but I’m not one to made for sitting down.

“That boy,” I hear myself saying before I can stop myself, looking at Kiyomi over my shoulder. “The tall one.”

“What about him?” Kiyomi asks, in that casual tone I know so well. She’s curious to know what I’m thinking, because she already formed an idea of the boy herself.

“He’s got a good height,” I say, turning again towards the gardens. “I haven’t sparred with someone so tall in a while.”

“He’s an eldian knight,” Kiyomi replies calmly. “He could harm you.”

“He was sent by Eren, wasn’t he? I doubt they mean any harm.”

“I don’t trust Yaegar.”

The words make me arch an eyebrow, and I’m persuaded to go sit at her side. I’ve met the Yaegar boy sporadically since I was brought back into the castle and became Kiyomi’s protégée. He was a loud child and, for a while, an even louder teenager. It’s been a while since I saw him last, and I wonder if he’s quieter now; a quieter demeanor would fit those green eyes of him much better. “Why don’t you trust him?”

“He’s sent handsome men.”

I snort. “Are you scared of handsome men, Kiyomi?”

“It concerns me he’s sent them to test you,” Kiyomi says, taking a sip of her tea, closing her eyes. “Three handsome men, all sent to be your close guards.”

Ah, my noble future husband, I think sarcastically. For a political alliance, it seems like too much trouble to test my loyalty for him this way. It’s not like we will always live together after we are married; we will have our wedding night, and a few months together every year afterwards. Because he is bound to Eldia as much as I am to Hizuru.

“I won’t jump into bed with them, you know. Not at first, at least.” I reply, and my words cause Kiyomi to choke on her tea. I cover my mouth with a hand, stifling a giggle. “I’m sorry, Kiyomi. Let me help you clean.”

“Don’t.” she warns, narrowing her eyes. She knows I just said that to shock her, but she does not like the ring of my words. An unmarried and young princess is a dangerous thing, she has told me. She and my servants told me I am lovely to look at. According to her, I am ripe for picking.

According to my skills, whoever comes near me will end with a broken neck.

“About the sparring,” I mention again. “I really haven’t had a tall fighting partner.”

Kiyomi smiles and narrows her eyes again, this time playfully. “You are rather set on that boy,” she says. I shoot her a questioning look, but all I get in return is the same placid, cheerful smile of hers that tells me she’s seeing something I am not. “You were looking at him since they walked into the room.”

“Because he is tall. I haven’t practiced against someone that tall,” I reply, but Kiyomi remains silent. Her silence hurts my pride. “Do you really think me capable of jumping into bed with the presents Eren sent me? Why do you think I would act this way?”

The hurt tone of my words placates her teasing somewhat. She puts her porcelain cup down and places a hand atop my own, a loving gesture that’s not uncommon among families behind closed doors. I smile; I barely remember my family before Kiyomi. In a way, she’s the closest I’ve ever had to a mother.

“He just reminds me of someone, dear princess, that is all. I trust your judgment with these gifts as much as I trust your judgement with the council,” she says. Her words swell my pride as easy as they hurt it a moment ago.

“Who does he remind you of?” I ask, curious. “That Jean knight.”

She shakes her head. “Not important at the moment,” she sighs, using a piece of silk cloth to clean some of the crumbs around us. “What is important is you choosing which one of the three will be your close guard.”

“Must I choose?” I ask. The last thing I want is a close guard; someone to accompany me everywhere, stand by my tub when I wash, stand by me when I eat, watch over me while I sleep. It seems invasive, at best. “I can defend myself. We could give them the treatment we give ambassadors. They will much prefer that.”

“This is not for you. Your future husband has clearly gone out of his way to send you protection,” Kiyomi says. “Not allowing at least one of them as your close guard will mean offending him. The Yaegar brothers are the head of a powerful nation, a conquering nation. A nation we must keep in our good graces.”

Unlike the Yaegar brothers, the two eldians who rose to the head of the Eldian empire in a mere five years, I do not care much about conquering. The emperor before me, a distant uncle of mine, resembled them more than I ever will. He spread our dominion to the islands on the shallow waters to the west, and the vast horse plains to the north…lands I intend to return once I ascend to the throne of Hizuru and clean out my council.

Having an empress who doesn’t want to conquer won’t settle well with most royals, and it will surely make us weak in the face of Eldian prowess. So, my marriage must keep us in Eldia’s good graces for a generation or two, depending on how many heirs Eren and I produce. He has displayed every hizuran gift we’ve sent him, so I must do the same. Although I’ve never sent him humans as presents, to be fair.

This must’ve been his older brother’s idea. As little as I’ve treated him, I can’t conceive the idea of Eren sending three humans as presents. He values freedom of will too much.

“So, how will I choose my close guard?” I ask.

“We will give you time with the three, on your own,” Kiyomim says easily. “It’ll be a trial period, of sorts. You will choose in the end. I trust you will choose wisely, and go for the one who will tempt you the least.”

“None of them tempts me.” I reply, again hurt in my pride. Why does she think I will act like a giddy teenager? The three men are not bad to look upon, but I value my commitment to Hizuru far too much to put it at risk for a foreign man. My own mother already did, and it did not end well.

“Do you have one you’d prefer me to choose?” I ask, curious to know about her impression of the three knights. “One you think would make a good job?”

“I do,” she says. I look at her expectantly, but Kiyomi remains focused on pouring more tea for the both us. “I won’t tell you, Mikasa. You are bound for a throne and decisions will be your daily living. We start small, but important: you must choose this close guard of yours mindfully and responsibly.”

I sigh, sipping a little more tea, finding it bitter. I’ve taken decisions before but choosing a man who will guard me day and night is not high on my list of priorities. “Can I still have the tall one for sparring? Even if I don’t choose him.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“He can’t mind if he’s a present,” I quip back, thinking there must be a flaw to Eren’s logic. Why someone who loves the concept of being free so badly send three humans as presents for his future wife?

“Even so,” Kiyomi says with a soft smile. “I’m sure the Kirstein knight won’t mind.”

I frown, there’s a playful tone to her voice that I don’t recognize. Is she trying to imply Jean will agree because he will think I am not strong enough to beat him? I take another determined sip of my tea. Kiyomi is good at reading people, and if she thinks the tall knight considers me weak, then it must be so.

“I will show him.”

“What, princess?” Kiyomi asks.

I shake my head, undermining the matter, my head filled with thoughts of the tall knight.

__________________

The next morning, Kiyomi sends a message with one of her servant girls. Princess Mikasa will meet with us one at a time throughout an unspecified period of time, and then she will make her decision before the summer festivities.

Marco is called first, although I am not surprised. He did impress her first with his vast knowledge of the word freckles.

He comes back and tells us how he and the princess went visiting the art museum within the palace. They talked for hours about hizuran artists, and then see a small play together, in which he met the members of the council that handle cultural affairs within her palace and the city.

The next day, Reiner is called. Mikasa takes him to the silk market in one of her official visits, and they have lunch in the hanging gardens at one of the mountains, where he meets the minister of trade.

Despite their vastly different experiences, both Marco and Reiner agree on something.

“She’s quiet.” Reiner says from the pool of hot water in our garden. “She’s like an old volcano.”

“Did you just call her old?” I blurt out.

“He’s right,” Marco says, putting an appeasing hand on my shoulder. “She does come off as an old volcano. Never make a sound, and when they do, it’s important.”

I frown. “Could you not make conversation with her then?”

“You need to know the right things to say.” Reiner says, arching his eyebrow. “Do you think you can handle it?”

I scoff and roll my eyes. Reiner wants to be her close guard. Out of the three, he perhaps wanted it from before we even reached Hizuru. This is a mission to not only get rich, but also to get honor. He wants to be the hero that conquered Hizuru, perhaps he wants to conquer the whole country for himself. “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?” I say, with an amount of confidence that I do not feel. “I can catch anything she throws my way.”

The next day, I get a call to go to the northmost garden in the castle, and a group of servants to accompany me to boot. Marco and Reiner both give me a thumbs up as the group of servants leads me away from the room; I smile confidently at them, but in reality, there’s a hole in my stomach that seems to be growing bigger.

The servants take me to a changing room first, and they hand me clothes that seem too cold for the weather outside. Black pants and a black, sleeveless shirt. I don’t ask questions, mostly because I know they won’t be answered by the group of silent servants.

I don’t want to think why she chose me last. On one hand, she might’ve not wanted to deal with my annoying ass for the first couple of days. On the other, she and Kiyomi might think to leave the best for last. Either thought is equally terrifying. Reiner and Marco met important people, and I can’t help but to wonder who I will meet todayu, or how I must act around them. I studied the members of her council, yes, but I reading about a person and meeting a person are two different things.

I find Mikasa –the princes— in a large, barren stretch of land that overlooks the mountains, talking to a man a few decades older. She wears pants and a sleeveless top much like mine, all black. I have to look at the ground as I walk forward; I’m not a prude by any means, but the clothes she has on would be considered scandalous for any hizuran royal. There is something in her hands, a black, metal-looking stick, and the man at her side holds it too.

It must be some sort of test, I tell myself. She wants to see if I can keep my mouth shut, my eyes to myself, and my face expressionless, qualities any future empress would want for a close guard. So, I must not, by all means, let my eyes wander to the curves of her body in that black ensemble, which matches so perfectly with her ponytailed hair.

I catch her eye and she gestures us all forward. The servants lead me until we’re standing six feet away from each other. I bend forward, meaning to bow, but the man with her presses the butt of his stick against my chin, stopping me.

“What?” he says in a booming voice, using eldian for my sake. “Do you intend on fighting right away?”

I blink, stepping back in an attempt of self-preservation. “Come again?”

“Sir Jean,” Mikasa —the princess says, greeting me with a polite smile I barely manage to give back. “I’m happy I look upon your face this morning.”

“Thank you, princess,” I say, stopping myself before I bow again, giving the long, heavy stick in their hands a fleeting look. “Thank you for this opportunity, princess, for letting me accompany you for the morning.”

The princess blinks at me and gives me a tight-lipped smile. “This is Yoshida Kururugi,” she says, giving the man next to her a look. “He was a head drill instructor for the hizuran troops. He became my personal teacher when I turned nine.”

The trainer looks hardened by the years, to say the least. Long scars traverse his face, prints from Hizuru’s bloody past. He stands straight, and I take that as a permission to bow before him. I do so, feeling more angered than confused. I might’ve been slightly out of line when meeting her, but that didn’t mean she had to give me this treatment.

Marco and Reiner met ministers, council members. And here I am, stuck with an old, bittered trainer for the frail princess. “Princess, I am confused,” I say after I finish greeting the man. “What are we doing today?”

She nods, acknowledging my question as valid, and takes a deep breath before answering. “We are sparring, Sir Jean,” she says, putting both hands on her long stick.

I blink, confused. “Princess, I do not wish to hurt you.”

Mikasa arches an eyebrow, in a surprisingly proud expression. “I will be fine.”

“But, princess—”

“I have not had a tall sparring partner in a while. You won’t be in trouble if you hurt me,” she says haughtily, and her voice reminds me I have no say in the discussion, no authority. If the princess wishes to spar with his shiny new present, so she shall. I hate it. “I am not familiar with eldian swordplay, and you are not familiar with eastern fighting styles.”

In that she is mistaken, I think as I try to force myself not to smile. I perhaps know more about hizuran fighting styles than she does. As much as a war veteran this man may be, Mikasa is still a princess. And no mere princess can stand against an eldian soldier.

“It shall be done as you say.” I say. The metal stick is against my chin before I can bow before her. I look at Yoshida, barely containing my frown. “I know, I know. No bowing before a fight.”

“A smart eldian,” he tells Mikasa, who nods in agreement.

“Let us begin,” she says. “You can have Kururugi’s weapon.”

Yoshida goes to the side of the training arena and Mikasa stands before me, regal, beautiful and, above all, unthreatening. I can’t say my pride isn’t more than a little hurt by her decision to make me a sparring partner, but I won’t say it aloud. If the princess wants a puppet to play sword with, I won’t make it easy for her. If the princess wants sparring, sparring she shall have. We bow to each other, and thus our fight begins without giving me a second to gloat to myself at the fact that the powerful hizuran flower has bowed for me.

She lifts her weapon and waits, her back straight, her body waiting. Ah, she wants to play the waiting game, wants me to lure her out into the struggle. Alright, I’ll give in. I charge forward with my weapon, dodging in the very last second to hit her behind her legs, thinking that if I make her loose balance, we can be done with the silly fight and move onto meeting members of her council.

To my utter shock, Mikasa jumps and avoids my stockade. She twirls, defying physics, and lands a kick to my chest that sends me stumbling back. I fall on my bottom, cursing lowly, and it is only then that I notice the muscles shifting in her arms, the way she isn’t even out of breath from her jump.

“Come, Sir Jean,” she says. “We are not finished yet.”

I stand again, feeling heat rushing to my cheeks. She’s a proud royal, and she is mocking me for having thought I could be a match to her. My pride overwhelms my sense of logic, and I charge forward again. I was the sixth best cadet in my generation; I’ve beaten Reiner at sparring, and I’ve even beaten Eren Yaegar himself at a fist fight. A mere princess with a few muscles isn’t a challenge.

She blocks my stockade again and tries hitting me with her stick, but I avoid it as good as she did it before. I hear her sighing in surprise, but I give myself no time to be proud. I kick forward, connecting my feet to her chest, and she steps back a few steps. Unlike me, however, she does not fall to the ground.

Mikasa stays at a safe distance. “You are tall, but slow.”

“You want conversation now?” I ask as we circle each other, both trying to find an opening.

“It is good to have conversation with the opponent,” she says seriously.

“Not when we’re fighting,” I reply, feeling my temper rise. “What are you hoping to get out of this?”

Mikasa blinks in confusion. She opens her mouth to answer, but I take an advantage of that brief moment of distraction to charge at her. Our weapons touch and I kick forward, but she is smaller than I am and, just as she said, I perhaps am too slow for her. She slithers away, aiming a blow at my hip, which I stop with my own weapon.

I attack once again and swing at her ankles, but she jumps and avoids the blow easily, as if she’s skipping rope. I go for her again, and my weapon connects with the muscles of her abdomen. Mikasa gives out a startled yelp, but she doesn’t back down. She charges at me with the most serene expression I’ve ever seen in a fighter and her weapon connects with my lower back.

I cry out from the pain from the sheer weight of the weapon, wondering why she isn’t crying from the blow I gave her.

“Damn you!” I shout, using my arms to grab her by the waist and lift her in the air. Not even that startles the princess, however. Letting go of her weapon, Mikasa wraps both of her legs around me and, using all her weight, brings us both down against the floor.

For a second, all I see is white flashes of light pass over my eyes, all I can feel is the throb of where her weapon connected with mine. After a moment of heavy breathing, I look down to realize she’s caught under my weight, her eyes wide in surprise and her face flushed from our fight. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“You-you—”

“I’m a great fighter?” I guess. “I know. I was sixth of my class.”

“You…”

“What is it?” I ask, my head thumping from exasperation. “You were all confidence back then. What ate your tongue?”

She flushes harder, and it is then that all the hizuran rules about physical touch flood my brain. I’m keenly aware of how little fabric we’re both using, how well I can feel the curve of her breasts against my body.

“You can’t touch me,” she pants, finding her ground and pushing me back. I move without protest, reeling still from the fact that I had her so close. Yoshida is at the princess’ side in less than five seconds, but, to my relief, I see no wish to punish me for touching the princess in his face. He eyes me up and down as the princess comes to her feet.

“Tall, slow,” he says, and I feel myself flushing in embarrassment. “Good fighter, though. Strong, good with your arms. Under whose command did you use to be?”

“Commander Smith,” I reply reluctantly. “Erwin Smith.”

“Ah, Smith,” Yoshida replies thoughtfully. “He did a good job. He must be disappointed to have lost such a good fighter.”

No, he’s looking forward to collecting another victory for Eldia, I think, but keep my mouth shut. Most of my attention is on the princess anyways. On the princess and her reddened face, the reddened shoulders, the feel of her body against mine. She averts her gaze from mine and part of me wonders if this is an accomplishment or a terrible mistake.

“Need help, boy?” Yoshida asks, his tone jovial, almost friendly, grabbing my hand to bring me to my feet. I stand, but the princess remains silent. “You sure are tall! What do people eat in Eldia?”

“I’m taller than most.” I say, giving him a half smile.

“It’s been a while since I saw the princess struggle in a fight,” Yoshida says, giving Mikasa a wide, friendly smile that she doesn’t return. I frown; it didn’t feel like she was struggling at all. “Princess?”

“Kururugi, do I have permission to leave?” she says, her eyes barely meeting mine.

Her master opens his mouth, as if recalling the rules and etiquette when it came to Mikasa. Now, he knows why she seems so upset, and why she refuses to look at me directly. “Of course, child,” he says with a nod. “You may leave. We will talk about your fight later.”

The princess runs past by me to enter the palace, and she is soon surrounded by three handmaids dressed in gray kimonos.

“I didn’t even apologize.” I say as the handmaids dress the princess with a beautiful green gown. I’m so focused on the movements of the muscles in her back that I barely have time to notice that one of the handmaids has a head of yellow hair. The liaison Zeke talked about, perhaps?

“I’m sure she will apologize to you in due time,” Yoshida says, bringing my attention back to him. “You just need to give her a little time. She is proud, but she is fair. She knows she forced your hand into the fight, and thus you broke the rules that bind her so.”

“How do you know her so well?” I venture.

Kururugi smiles at me. “Why, I’m Kiyomi’s partner. We raised her. She’s practically my daughter.” he says with an amused smile, and I curse myself for not having studied the booklet with all the information about the royals of Hizuru more thoroughly. “Don’t worry, boy, she will come around. In the meantime, I’m guessing you and I can have tea out in the gardens.”

I swallow saliva. Sure, she can’t stay shy forever, but I have a mission to fulfill. A timed mission, a mission that will make me richer than God. I don’t have time for the princess to be shy, or to be offended. What if she stays mad for the whole year?

I look at Kururugi, feeling the hole in my stomach become true and deep. This is the man who has raised her, the man who has trained her in the hizuran arts of combat. And I just embarrassed the princess in front of him. No, I touched the princess in front of him. I had her under my body in front of him, which must be the royal hizuran equivalent of getting caught half-naked by your own father in a barn, with a boy.

I feel lightheaded suddenly. I definitely screwed up.

#jeankasa #Jean Kirstein #Mikasa Ackerman #JeanKasa #Jean x Mikasa #JeanMika #fanfiction #ao3 #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #Royal AU

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