The Commander's Wife

1: Stohess District

[Before you read, keep in mind that the story will be dark and focus on events such as death, loss, violence, and other sensitive topics. Thank you for checking out my story and enjoy!]

"Mrs. Smith, again, please try to keep still."
I look over at the annoyed painter and sigh. Sitting in this chair, facing forward with my folded hands on my lap, forcing a smile for so long was much less than amusing. What I really wanted to do was stare at who was standing beside me. Erwin. Unlike me, he didn't have any problem staying still because of the great amount of discipline only an accomplished soldier would have. He was standing tall with perfect posture, his hand placed atop the back of my chair. His hand so close to touching me, I could feel his warmth radiating onto me, but it was still too far.

"Mrs. Smith?" Erwin reminds me, a hint of playfulness. He never calls me Mrs. Smith. I look up at him and see that he's mostly kept his posture, except his head is titled down slightly to look at me. The side of his mouth pulled up into a grin. I smile genuinely and try to keep my face muscles in the exact position that they're in before turning to look at the painter. The painter smiles and goes back to his work.

This was ridiculous. My father insisted, no, demanded that Erwin and I get a portrait done. It's a family tradition, he said, and my mother would have wanted me to have one made. My father even used Erwin's scouting mission against me. He might not come back, he said, so you should get a portrait while you still can. I had yelled at him then but I knew he was right, so I agreed to the portrait. But sitting here now, when all I want to do is look at and touch Erwin, I regretted my decision. Besides, I don't even think the portrait would do him justice. He's too beautiful in person.

The painter spent hours getting every detail and it took all the strength I had not to reach up and hold Erwin's hand or stare up at him. I would have to remember to tip the painter very generously for his patience.

After what felt like an eternity, the painter finished with the first phase of the painting and told us he'd take it home to complete. I handed him the money that was owed and a bit extra and told him to deliver the painting to my father, he had been the one who wanted it. The painter smiled and left quickly, probably still annoyed at my inability to keep still, leaving me and Erwin alone.

I finally felt relaxed, placing one of my hands on my lower back and the other just below my belly to stretch. Sitting down for so long was uncomfortable and my stomach had started to ache. I was only about four months pregnant, but my body was changing already.

Meanwhile, Erwin had been smiling at me, smiling down at my stomach at where my hand cradled the baby inside. He was excited to become a father, although at first he was scared that he was too old since he was in his early forties. I had actually been more scared than him since usually thirty-four was considered "pushing it" when having children. There wasn't much luck with mid-thirty pregnancies, but we kept our optimism and four months had been good to us.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, walking over to rub his hand down my back comfortingly.

"Good," I reply simply, leaning into his hand after the long amount of time I've been without his touch. He smiled.

"And how is he?" He asks, his hand traveling to my stomach. I frowned up at him.

"The baby is a she," I argue but Erwin just laughs.

"We'll see," he says, "But I'll bet on a son," he adds in a whisper. I roll my eyes but can't find it in myself to argue anymore. Instead, I just enjoy the sensation of his hand starting to make its way under my blouse. His skin on mine.

"I have to leave tomorrow," he says, letting his hand fall back to his side. I try to reach for his hand again so I could make him place his hand back on my stomach but he reaches up to cup my face. His words were so simple but I can see now, in his eyes, he meant them as a kind of apology.

Erwin and I never planned on having children. First, I thought I had passed the child-bearing prime of my twenties, but also Erwin being in the Survey Corps didn't seem to make for a solid father figure. But to my surprise, I became pregnant and grew on the idea of being a mother. Erwin was more conflicted. Happy to be a father, guilty for being committed to being Commander. I never blamed him, but I know how he must feel.

"I know, Erwin. We'll be waiting for you to come back," I reply lightheartedly. He smiles and kisses me gently. He liked when I spoke to him like there was no doubt in the world that he would come home as if he were going on business to the Capital rather than out into Titan-infested land.

Erwin was leading the Scouts beyond Wall Rose to survey how the Titans had taken over so far. After the fall of Shiganshina, Titans had seemingly started to fill the whole area outside of Wall Rose.

Before we were married or even partnered, Erwin's expeditions used to frighten me. I had tried my best to not care, it's common that Scouts would leave on a mission and never return, but Erwin would come back every single time. Sometimes he'd have a streak of blood on his clothing, dirt, sweat, a distant look in his eyes, but he would always return in one piece. His constant return grew my faith in him and I took a leap to make myself known to him. He had known of me for a while because my father, Mr. Keller, is a manufacturer of ODM gear parts and worked closely with him, but he didn't know me personally. By the time Erwin and I had grown close, already in love, my father found out and was less than pleased. He didn't want me to marry someone who would die any given day but I didn't listen and here we were years later and still alive and well. After Erwin became Commander, my father liked him a little more.

I kiss Erwin back, not as gentle as he had kissed me. The sun is nearly set which signifies the passing time I have left with him until he leaves. I blow out the candles around the room, and watch, in the dim light, Erwin unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and loosening his tie. After all this time, my breath still got caught in my throat just looking at him. He smiled at me, his easy relaxed smile, and motioned for me to join him to bed. I followed eagerly.

We lied in bed together, his arm around me and my head resting on his chest. We had made small talk, pleasantries, about simple things. He talked about Levi and Hange. He talked about what we should do when he gets back from his mission. And I listened to every word, mentally recording his voice in my mind. And soon, although I could tell he fought against it, he drifted into sleep. His breath passing quietly through his slightly parted lips. I press my lips softly against his, as to not wake him up, and lied my head back onto his chest. I wouldn't sleep tonight. He didn't know it but the nights before his missions, I would stay up all night and all day until he left. I wanted every minute with him, even if he was sleeping. Because even though I had yelled at my father for considering the worst, it was always in the back of my mind. What night would be his last with me?

Not this one, I convince myself, but I'll stay up to have all the time I can with him just in case.