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He was going to get him back. He had to.
Though Erwin isn’t sure exactly where Levi is these days. He’d left, hurriedly, after the victory ceremony, with little more than a goodbye and a handshake, of all things. That had pissed Erwin off more than him leaving in the first place.
That was almost a year ago, and Erwin hadn’t seen or heard from Levi since.
But Levi was a free man. He had no ties to the city. None good, anyway. Besides Erwin. But that was a selfish thought he smothered the moment it crossed his mind. Levi had done what he’d asked him to do. He’d fought valiantly for humanity. It wasn’t Erwin’s place beyond that. The war was over, and Levi owed him nothing. Enough had been taken from him already.
Still, Erwin is lonely. And he’ll admit that now. It was fine before—expected, even—for a military officer of his standing. But now that his days are filled with monotony and a peace that was foreign to him his whole life, he longs for companionship. And he has been unable to replicate anything like he had with Levi. He shops the markets and meanders through town and pokes his head into offices he used to frequent, but nothing satisfies his boredom like a quiet evening with Levi would.
The only thing that comes close are his monthly visits to the orphanage. It brightens his day to see the smiles he can bring to the children’s faces with his stories and tall tales, and Historia is always a joy to talk to when she happens to be visiting at the same time.
The children seem especially wound up and talkative when Erwin arrives one afternoon. They’re tugging on his empty sleeve more than normal, leading him inside before he’s halfway across the yard. Historia appears like a humble saint in her civilian clothes, relieving Erwin of the treats in his arm and shooing away the kids, though a few still cling to his legs.
“They had another visitor this morning,” she says in a stage whisper.
Erwin ruffles the hair of a gray-eyed boy at his hip. “Did we, now?”
“Mr. Levi!” a handful of kids scream in half-hearted unison, and Erwin’s eyes dart to Historia’s.
“He left about an hour ago,” she says, and Erwin doesn’t miss the sympathy in her voice. She speaks a little louder when she says to the kids, “Mr. Levi brought too many sweets, didn’t he?” and they squeal when she tickles them.
Erwin has as much of a conversation as he can with her while he tries to tire out the kids; they won’t sit still for a story today, Levi had seen to that. He laughs at the idea of the man still having an impact on his life from wherever he is.
He manages to find out exactly where that is from Historia. With a knowing smile, she tells him she doesn’t have an address, but she knows without a doubt he’s settled down in Bellamy, just a few hours’ ride away.
Erwin packs his bag that night and uses his old contacts to hire a carriage out of town first thing the next morning.
Bellamy is rural and quaint. It’s the first time he’s been this far southeast, and Erwin only knows they’re getting close when the open fields turn into orchards. Still, it’s another ten minutes until the buildings come into view. Thankfully there is a small inn that his driver tipped him off about, and he checks in and drops off his things before leaving to stretch his stiff legs.
It comes as no surprise to him that he only has to ask around for “Mr. Ackerman” a few times before he gets pointed in the right direction.
Levi’s house sits on the edge of town, nothing behind it but a large orchard of trees and endless sky. The front garden is meticulously maintained, and the windows gleam in the morning sunshine. Erwin would expect nothing less. Even if it weren’t for the neat L. Ackerman printed on the small mailbox at the foot of the walkway, he would be confident he’d been directed to the correct place.
He knocks, before his muscles can question his movements, suddenly overly aware of his appearance, of the late morning sun on his face, of his sleeve flapping occasionally at his side.
The door creaks open, and he steels himself against anything that might greet him from the other side.
But Levi smiles when he sees him, that genuine smile that Erwin never saw much of, that stretches the scar across his cheek and pulls at his lips. His eye is still cloudy—it always will be, Erwin knows—but he’s got better control of it now; the scarred lid opens completely now.
“Took you long enough.”
He’s on his way out to visit the market, and Erwin accompanies him in a strange familiarity. Levi talks while they walk, more than Erwin’s ever heard him speak at once, telling him about the town, the people, as if Erwin had asked—-as if Erwin hadn’t just shown up on his doorstep unannounced.
Falling back into their old easiness knocks Erwin off kilter until he gets his bearings, but by midday, he’s settled into Levi’s routine with him, and by the time Levi fixes them lunch and they share the meal in the comfort of Levi’s pristine kitchen, it feels like Erwin’s been around longer than just a few hours.
Afternoon gives way to evening, and before Erwin realizes it, they’re having dinner together too, over which Levi asks him how long he’ll be in town for. He gives a non committal answer. Any estimate he’d subconsciously had in his mind has been altered, he knows.
“See you tomorrow, then?” Levi asks as he walks him out. The sun has long set, and the streets are glowing with the warm light of the lanterns.
“Of course.”
And that’s it. They start a routine neither of them had set out to begin in the first place. Trip to the market, lunch, getting lost in conversation while Levi cleans or pulls weeds until dinner time rolls around. Erwin learns something new every day, it seems, with the amount they talk. Levi explains that he hadn’t told Erwin where he was going because he didn’t know himself. He hitched a ride with his meager belongings until he found a town far enough away that he could tolerate. A few days later, when Levi’s showing him around the orchard in his backyard, he tells Erwin that he inherited the land from his elderly neighbor whom he’d taken care of at the end of his life. Erwin feigns surprise at the fact, and Levi blushes, humbled, but Erwin would expect nothing less.
He survives off the government stipend and the rental income from the small house next door that had come with the land, but Levi knows he could really benefit from the harvest. Only he can’t do it alone.
“Peaches,” he tells Erwin. “Probably will be full of them in a few months.”
A week passes, and Erwin knows he has no right to bring Levi back with him. There is a lightness in Levi’s eyes and an ease in his step, even with the limp, that Erwin would be wrong to ignore.
One night, when they’re sitting quietly in front of a fire Levi had made to ward off the cool spring night, he finally asks a question of Erwin.
“What made you look for me?” Levi continues to stare into the fire, curls in closer to himself on the chair. “After all this time?”
This, Erwin wants to say. This is what he was after. This was what Erwin sought, the tether for which he followed the pull. A quiet evening and shared meals. Familiarity. Companionship.
Perhaps some part of him doubted he would ever find it.
He sighs, knowing his answer is long delayed. “I came here… I came here to bring you back, actually.”
Levi laughs, and the sound eases a weight in Erwin’s chest, to know that he can no longer tell Levi what to do. “Oh, really. And how’s that working out for you?”
“Let’s just say when I get back, I’ll be marking it as a failed expedition.”
“So,” Levi says, “you’ll be going back then?”
“It suits you, the peacefulness.” He looks up at Levi from across the small space, noting the lack of the crease in his brow, the ease in his shoulders, things he never saw with such frequency during the war. “You belong out here.”
Levi catches Erwin’s gaze, and there’s something new—something different—in those eyes. “Maybe you do too.”
And, truly, Erwin hadn’t thought of it like that.
“I have a tenant in the house,” Levi continues hurriedly, looking back at the fire, “but there’s an extra bedroom here. It’s yours, if you want it.” He looks down into his teacup for a beat before raising his eyes to look at Erwin again, abashed. The firelight catches his right eye fiercely. “If you want to stay.”
Erwin leans back on the sofa and takes in the home, the man sitting across from him and the golden-plated scars gracing his features, and he thinks Levi might be right.
“I’d like that very much.”
The next day, Erwin leaves reluctantly, but there’s a shared understanding in their goodbyes; this time it’s only temporary. Levi knows better than to shake his hand.
And when he returns, it’s a familiar smile that greets him now, one that Erwin missed the week he was gone to pack his things. One that he knows he will never tire of.
Levi welcomes him in with a squeeze of his arm and a warm embrace that is the closest thing to home Erwin thinks he’s ever felt. “Took you long enough.”