Her Majesty's Baby

Chapter 9 - Historia

A/N: Hello all! Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you are all getting love today.

I am sorry for the hiatus, but we are getting close to the end of the manga now. I have mixed feelings, but I feel we are getting close to the origin of Historia's pregnancy. This fanfic can finally get rolling.

In the meantime, I have a new RivaHisu fanfic called Wilted Rose. It's an AU aot fanfiction. Levi is a hitman hired to kill Hisu, who is a fun-loving college student (think Legally Blonde), and, well, sparks fly...

Historia's pining is heartbreaking. I hope you are all prepared. Break-ups suck (even though they never broke-up).

Song inspired for this chapter: Lately by Samatha Mumba. This song kept getting stuck in my head when writing this. Its fits so well. A song about a woman missing her man who has gone away for a while... 

I waited hours for his return. Just by the off chance that we were mistaken, and the commander-in-chief didn't mean to separate us.

I was sure that I would see the white shining coat of Silver riding over the hills, and then his sullen face would reappear like a mirage.

But he didn't return. Not even when the stars came out and the moon had taken the place of the sun, Levi did not show his face. And now life at the farm has become cold once again.

The nannies had to coax me back into the house with the promise of a hot bath in the end, and I cried all night in that boiling tub until the water turned cold. Not even the relaxing salts could mend my broken heart as my knight has left me forever, and I yearn for the day I can look into those sharp grey eyes again.

The nannies have taken over the orphanage while I mourn like a pathetic brat, just as Levi would say. I don't leave my room, I don't even eat anymore, and the nannies have started bringing my meals up to me.

The food remains untouched. Food has lost all its splendour now, except for tea—black tea to be precise, just as Levi always liked. I drink from his old cup with the chipped rim, guarding it like an aggressive terrier guards its bowl. I almost blew a fuse when one of the nannies tried to wash the last of him away. After all, his lips had been the last to touch that chipped porcelain, and no one will take what little I have left of him.

Sure, it's dried spittle, but who cares. It's Levi's dried spittle, now mingled with mine, and I'm so disgusting.

That's what Levi would call me, disgusting, and once again he fills my mind.

I lay curled up on my bed, hugging one of his stupid cravats. Since he had to leave in a rush, he never got a chance to pack his things. I expected he would have sent for them, but he never did.

So I guess all his stuff is mine now, sitting inside a trunk at the foot of my bed. Everything is as he left it. His clothes are still neatly folded and labelled according to their function: civilian clothes vs military attire.

The cravat soaks up my tears as I cry into the material, absorbing the last of his scent.

It still smells of him, and for a moment I close my eyes, trying to pretend he's still beside me.

He always smelled so good, like peppermint and cedar. Even of a morning, he always looked so fresh, while I would have foul morning breath, and he really is perfect.

Not a single flaw in sight.

I've been through this before, right after Ymir left, but at least I had the chance to mourn this time. When my surly friend left my life, I wanted to lock myself in a room for days, weeks even, but I couldn't because the Scouts were on the move.