a/n: This got a lot longer than I thought it would.

They came in the night, ascending the outermost Wall of Paradis under cover of darkness. Below, a steamboat idled by the water's dark edge, inactive.

There were around fifty of them in total, men, women, children, all in peak physical condition for their respective ages. There was nothing particularly abnormal about their appearances; as a matter of fact, all of them were dressed rather plainly, and they could have easily been mistaken for some lower-class civilians in any other circumstance.

Normally, the only souls that had business on Paradis's edge were Marley's own military force and their political prisoners of war, both coming from beyond the sea. But these interlopers wore no insignia, nor did it seem likely they were captives. In truth, their allegiance was to Marley existed in title alone.

To each other, they were only Warriors.

The climb upward would have been a fruitless endeavour if one were to attempt it without the proper gear—at least, when it came to the main three Walls—but on the outer rim, the lifts were still working. In fact, they had been in operation for quite some time. It was a grim reassurance; as long as there existed a resistance and rebels to be made examples of, so too would there be lifts to carry them to the top of the Wall and release them into the wild, and keep the population of Paradis in-check.

In silence, the guards stationed up top were eliminated, with knives and the element of surprise; once that was taken care of, the Warriors spread their numbers across the outermost Wall, in such a fashion that they were all in-line with Shiganshina, which was just a ghostly rung on the horizon in the light of the moon.

For some, it was their first time to the island.

Only one of them was a little different. She had been here once before, had even walked about with others of her kind, but she took little comfort in reflection upon her past transgressions. After all, the past was precisely that, and she had been saved long ago.

Yet if she tried hard enough, she could sometimes conjure up some notion of a past life beyond her existence on Paradis; that she had once been married, with child and all the more happy for it. She did not remember this family very well. There had been a man, with dark hair and glasses. The child had blonde hair and light eyes, but she wasn't sure whether it was a boy or a girl, or if his/her eyes were green or blue. She did not remember her own parents, or what her seventh birthday had been like, or if she had any brothers and sisters. She knew only that her name was Dina, and she had been rescued by the Warriors to become reborn as a daughter of Marley.

Now, standing before the edge of the great Wall, she looked up and thought—it's a good night to die for one's country.

The air was cool up here, enough to chill the bones, though none of them were very cold. The sky was cloudless, illuminated in the light of the moon and stars above. It would be several hours before sunrise.

The drop down from the edge into Paradis was around thirty metres, according to Zeke's estimation. It would not be lethal. If one looked closely, they would see there was a man-made slope, reaching just high enough to leave a captive bruised instead of broken upon impact.

But the fall was the least of her problems; the journey to Wall Maria itself would be arduous enough, even without the threat of local Titans, come morning. And though the vast majority of Paradisians remained unaware of the goings-on outside, the island's occupants were an unexpectedly hardy bunch. The Scout Regiment alone could easily prove to be a wildcard in its own right; despite their continued lack of support by the current King, they were strong in their conviction, and Dina, alongside most of her compatriots, was not trained for combat.

But she was not alone. There were other Warriors by her side who were honed to fight if need-be, and they would look out for her as fiercely as any other of their number.

Keeping that in perspective, Dina was struck by another realisation; her legs would not obey her. It wasn't that she didn't understand the reason. She knew her body was just reacting in accordance to the absurd task asked of her, but she was no hardened soldier, just—

—off of Wall Maria, and she was blindfolded, shepherded along a cool, surface that was smoother than any stone, but she could still hear the explosion. A multitude of them, in fact, louder than any cannon-fire, resonating in her bones, ringing in her head.

And she heard Grisha, too, as he cried out in horror, begging the others to stop, that was Grice they were running down. Faintly, she imagined could hear someone else's shrieking.

She prayed she was imagining things.

"For God's sake, Krueger," said one voice crossly, "just turn him into a Titan, won't you? I can't stand the noise."

"No," said another voice, presumably Krueger. "I still want to interrogate him. You go ahead."

The first man snorted, his tone derisive: "Yeah, okay. Don't work yourself too hard, all right?"

She was shoved down on her knees to meet the cool, flawless structure of the Wall. The air was crisp up here.

"Oh, a woman next? Such a shame. If only she didn't have Devil's blood in her…"

Light filled her vision, temporarily blinding. Then she could see. A group of Titans were huddled around in a circle, and their features and intent were equally ambiguous at a distance, but she had an idea.

Would these men of Marley take pity on her, she wondered. Or would her fate be the same as Grice's?

"Dina…?"

Her chest tightened. She knew that voice. Turned, and Grisha was there by her side, on his knees, his arms bound behind him. He looked confused, but mostly terrified. He turned his eyes wildly upon the men around them, firing questions: "Why is she here? Did you not get the message? I told you all about her, she ought to be valuable to you Marlians! There's royal blood inside of h—"

His outburst was cut short by one of the guards—was it Krueger? "Quiet!" he hissed through his teeth, one hand pressed firm over Grisha's mouth.

"Hm? What's the matter?" It was the man from before, the one with the derisive voice.

"I couldn't stand another minute of his nonsense," said Krueger smoothly, now addressing him as though this was all standard procedure. "Continue your work."

But Grisha did not stop struggling, not for a second. Horror was all-too evident on his features as another soldier brought the syringe to her nape.

So this was how they were turned, she thought. Would they force her to devour Grisha, as the others had devoured Grice? Or was Krueger really speaking the truth when he had spoken of interrogating Grisha? Left with chance as an ally, there was no time to tell.

Dina had been trying to come up with something to say to him from the moment they'd been stuffed alongside the others into the cramped quarters of the boat, but found she had nothing to say that would suffice. All that time to think had been spent, numb with the thrill of defeat and worry, endless worry for Grisha as well as their cause—and their son, dear God, what would become of Zeke?—so she hadn't really considered what her last words would be.

Then the needle pierced her and Dina shuddered, suddenly cognisant of just how utterly alive she was at this moment. She had no choice—it was now or never.

"Grisha, I…" stopping to compose herself, vaguely surprised at how level her voice was. Inhaled, and exhaled. She was smiling weakly as the needle withdrew, and though her voice had begun to tremble her words were gentle: "Don't worry, love. No matter what I become, I'll find you."

He looked defeated, even as she said it, and Dina never wanted to see something like that on his face but it was there at last, sheer, raw hopelessness.

She wanted to hold him, she wanted so many things that she could not have, but there was a heat blooming inside her, an ugly thing, burning white-hot in her bones, and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. In wordless agony as the boot fell upon her back and she pitched forward and Grisha was screaming—

—no, she was not falling at all, but regarding the chasm before her, breathing heavily.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Marcel beside her.

Dina startled at the sound of his voice. She started to tremble, shaking her head. "I can't," she whispered, barely audible. "I can't do it."

Marcel grunted. "What, do you need to be pushed?"

Dina wouldn't look at him, only at her shaking hands. She'd had flashes before, yes, but never anything so detailed, and never so long in duration.

Now Galliard, Marcel's elder brother, chimed in: "Then do it yourself. She will not die from the fall, and she'll get it over with quickly."

Marcel sighed, but came around to her back, one hand at her shoulder. Dina closed her eyes tightly as she was pushed, half-wondering if she would die before she hit the ground. Wind rushed past her face, the world coming up faster than she could process—midair, and suddenly she was—

—falling fast, out of control, everything was out of control as she hit solid earth, rolling down the slope to meet her death, and one of the beasts turned to look at her with animal curiosity in its eyes. She stared at it—at him? her?—uncomprehendingly as it loped towards her, and all she could think was that she did not want to die, not like this and so she did what she must—

—lying crumpled on her side, her head turned up and looking up at the reddening sky, almost hyperventilating.

Someone was shaking her, and she could hear a voice but the words would not reach her ears.

"—ou hear me? We have to go!"

Dina blinked a few times, still disoriented. She half expected to be set upon by Titans at any moment, but where they had once stood there was only the forest-line and a world of grass before her.

Maybe she was going mad. It happened to some Warriors once they reached a certain age. Their bodies broke down and betrayed them, and their minds likewise turned to more basic instincts.

She dared not speak of it now, lest it became true.

"What's wrong with you?" Marcel asked, a little more sharply.

Dina swallowed hard. Her throat was tight. "I don't know," she decided. "But I'm fine now. Thank you."

Once the sense of danger had passed, Marcel looked annoyed, like her instability was her own fault.

"Come on," he said curtly. "We'll be eaten if we sit around out here."

He started walking and did not look back.

But Dina understood. None of the other Warriors had come from Paradis. She was an outcast, but it was as much a mystery to her as it was to anyone else why Zeke had chosen to rescue a mindless Titan when he could simply have chosen a more competent soldier like Reiner, or Annie. But Zeke's word was good—none dared to question it—and she was merely a pawn he had seen fit to adopt.

That aside, she felt a little discouraged—not from Marcel's slowness to trust her, but from the idea that he might be right to hold onto that fear.

It was now early morning; the sun was red on the horizon, turning Maria's Walls a vibrant pink colour.

They had made it quite a ways on foot. So far there had been no sign of Titan activity.

"We're lucky," said Marcel, once Dina brought it to his attention. "I'm surprised we've made it this far."

"Do not let your guard down," Galliard replied. "They could be asleep, or in hiding."

They had reached an abandoned outpost; just skeletal remains of wood and stone. There were quite a few of them sprinkled throughout the land, perhaps the work of the Scouts or other brave souls who had foolishly tried to eke out an existence apart from the safety of the Walls. While she and Marcel scavenged for supplies within the dilapidated fort, Galliard served as a lookout. Actually, it was Marcel that did most of the work, and told her to wait with Galliard.

She was too weary to object. All that was left to do now was to remain here with the others, and wait for Zeke's signal. Dina hated nothing more at this moment than the idea of being left to her own thoughts.

The other Warriors had often told her that having strange visions sometimes was a normal occurrence, nothing to be concerned about. As a matter of fact, these were most likely from a past life, before her awakening as one of Marley's children, and now that she was fully realised she could cast these aside to better devote herself to the cause ahead of her.

Yet Dina found herself unable to let go. It wasn't for lack of trying—but sometimes the scenes were rather harmless, even pleasant. Others were far more frightening. And, good or not, they always came to her in fragments, without warning, sometimes jumbled up until they were nigh incomprehensible. That was the main reason she had wanted to return to Paradis in the first place; transformation brought her a temporary reprieve from the chaos in her mind. The others—Warriors or not—must've thought she was crazy, but Dina didn't care. She just wanted to forget.

And oh, how she had tried to forget! She'd prayed to God, offering her devotion in exchange for the will to let go of her own demons. She'd gotten better at it with practise, but she was only human. She couldn't shut it out forever.

Suppose she really was losing her mind. A permanent solution was better than a temporary one. If she became trapped in the body of her Titan, she could forget forever…. Dina stopped, aghast with the way she was thinking. She couldn't carry on like that.

Perhaps she ought to try and make a little peace with Marcel before the inevitable. She went back to where he had procured them supplies—though he had very little to show for it, just a few cans of food and stale gunpowder. Feeling unoptimistic, she called his attention.

"Hm?"

Unlike his brother, he was still obvious in his impatience with her. It didn't give Dina much hope, but she might as well try and explain herself: "I think I may be losing my mind."

It was broad, unhelpfully so, but it was the only way she could describe the way she felt.

"What are you talking about?" Marcel asked.

"I see things here, I remember moments that I never have outside," she answered. "I think I've been here before, and I don't know why. It frightens me."

"You may very well have been," Galliard told her. She'd almost forgotten he was there. "But you wouldn't have been chosen by Zeke for your weakness."

"Galliard's right," Marcel insisted. "Zeke knows what he's doing, even if I don't understand." He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of this notion.

"You will be fine," Galliard added. "Just concentrate on your mission."

It did not make her feel any better, but Dina forced herself to smile.

As morning came and went, and after they had subsisted upon the new-found rations, Marcel and Galliard left her alone. The ideas in her head were becoming clearer, whether she wanted them to or not, and she let them in. (If she was going to forget anyways, then what point remained in resisting?)

There had been a revolution in her past life. She could not quite recall its name, nor the time it had taken place. Despite her vast source of uncertainties, there was a man at the centre of it all who she kept coming back to—

—he had welcomed her into his fold with open arms and fire in his hazel eyes. Was this Grisha?

There was a certain…fondness, that affected her thoughts of him—throughout the hours she would occasionally revisit his face in her head, because it was rather pleasant to watch him talk to her, even if she knew she could not respond.

And more than anything, he seemed to admire her—for her courage, and her knowledge of Ymir's word. Dina was a little hazy on the latter subject, but she felt like he meant it wholly, and that was enough.

—most important of all was the fact that he'd introduced her to the others as Dina Fritz, and it felt right, somehow. She held onto that feeling.

It was late midday was when the peace finally broke within Shiganshina. The first bolt of lightning that descended from the heavens was of such magnitude that it caused the very earth beneath them to shudder.

Once the world had stilled, the citizens of Shiganshina struggled to their feet, searching frantically the horizon for a sign of what had caused the disturbance. Drawn out of their homes and from side-streets onto the main roads, looking from the faux-safety of windows.

It was not long before they saw it. All fell into a hushed terror as the monster rose before them, its face and torso devoid of flesh, mere muscle and sinew and bone, raw and red and singed from the searing heat of its birth. Grasping the edge of Wall Maria with both hands, it raised itself slowly, the same way a small child might lift itself over a ledge while climbing, and drew back one stubby leg, at the height of its arch.

And the world held its breath, just for a moment, until the Colossus let its weight fall forward.

Zeke's signal was in her mind, silent but brilliant in intensity. A flash of light before the Titan engulfed her, and around her, men and women became monsters. Children became gods.

She rose high, high above the trees and saw Shiganshina before her. It was nothing but a white-gold halo on the horizon, almost Heaven-like in the blinding light of the sun. Bertholdt's Titan sagged slightly against the formation, exhuming smoke.

Rallied by the call, the remaining Titans now hastened towards their target.

On the other side, Shiganshina fell into chaos. Men and women, children trampled underfoot by each other, crushed by fallen rubble.

Yet devastation was not immediate. It took minutes. Slowly, the Titans were shepherded towards the breach, pouring in without delay. Some roamed about, searching for fresh meat. Others seemed to take delight in the simple pain and fear they could inflict on these tiny little creatures beneath their feet.

Dina ambled forward, slower than most, and she was slow by choice. Something was pulling at her, had been the moment she had transformed, and it was stronger even than the lull of her own transformation. Grisha. She had to find him, she knew that now. If he was a Titan, he would be in danger. Or would he be safe?

There was no sign or sight of him anywhere, only the blue sky above; below, the sight and sound of the dying, Titans and humans scattered about the streets. The others had finished off most of the easier prey. Could he have perished in the blast rather than by the mouth of one of her companions? Stepping across bodies and broken buildings, ignoring all else, Dina was convinced she would know when she saw it—until she did see it, one house in particular that had been unlucky enough to be crushed by a whole piece of Wall Maria.

Drawing closer, Dina could see there was a woman trapped underneath the broken home and a pair of little ones, boy and girl, struggling to free her, but to no avail. Dina made her way over slowly. A woman and children, but no sign of the one that mattered.

A sense of frustration swelled sharply within her. There was a man, also not Grisha, that flew down from above on wires, racing towards her with his weapons drawn and an intent to kill. She only had to stop and stare at him, and suddenly he was frozen in terror. Just like all the rest. The Paradisians were hardy, but complacency had made cowards of them in the end.

Where was Grisha?

The man was running back, back to the ruined home, and he took both children in his arms and fled. Dina wasn't paying attention. She plucked the woman free, holding her in one fist. The poor thing was hysterical 'til her spine snapped in half. Then she went limp. Dina brought the lifeless body to her mouth and ate her fill.

She felt nothing. No sense of relief, no hunger satiated. Just disappointment.

Now a scream tore the air. Dina looked up and the man that was not Grisha was still running, the two children tucked safely in his arms.

And it was her turn to freeze. The boy was situated upon the shoulder of the man, and he had twisted himself around to better look at what was happening behind him. He gazed up at her, now, paralysed with despair, with horror.

He was not Grisha, either, yet something about his eyes, his face, his anguish, struck her as vaguely familiar. Important, even.

Dina wasn't sure why she returned his gaze as long as she did. Eventually the man turned a corner down the worn cobblestone road, and she could not see them anymore.

She stood very still, for longer than was necessary, her eyes fixed to the spot the boy had occupied a minute ago. In the distance, she thought she heard him begin to scream again, but he was no longer full of fear.

She stood there for a long time, listened to the sounds of death and destruction, let them fill up her head until she swayed upon the spot in a daze.

Would it be so wrong to lay down here, and never rise again?

The child of her past was a boy, and his name was Zeke. She and Grisha had each loved him dearly. Grisha, especially.

Zeke Jaeger—that was his name. He was a young boy with hair and pale green eyes, like hers. And he was sharp, as well, possessed of his father's intellect. He would make a fine candidate for the soldiers of Marley, but his purpose was a little more insidious than that—

—Dina!"

In the Titan, still in front of the house. The stench of death hung thick. She did not recall falling on her knees. Her shell was crumpled before the ruined house as though in supplication.

Even before she saw him, she knew Zeke had come for her. There was so much she wanted to tell him. So many questions to ask, but she was exhausted.

Her Titan's shell twisted around by the gnarled hands of another, and she felt teeth upon her throat. He drew her out her with unexpected care.

She looked into the black eyes of the Beast, but saw another. "Zeke," she murmured, still bloody with the aftermath of her transformation. For the first time that day, Dina's smile became genuine, and the world trembled on its edges—

—on a sweet, summer morning in May the door to their little home was ripped open on its hinges, battering the wall in its violence, and that same boy stood in the doorway, flanked by men with guns in uniform, and an officer stood by the boy's side leant down and asked him a very simple question—now, are you sure these are the ones who've been spreading lies about the good people of Marley?—

"You're him," she was saying weakly, delirious, voice cracking with recognition, "my son, you're my son…."

—and the child looked from the officer directly into her eyes as well as Grisha's, and perhaps right through their bodies, with an icy certainty, and then he spoke—yes, sir, they are the enemies of Marley—

Zeke did not reply at first.

—and she, she and the man and the boy—they were torn from one another, and Dina tried to cry out to either of them but her voice caught and her chest was tight enough to hurt—she had to be strong, she would not break—

"Hush, now," he told her, the voice of his Titan oddly gentle. "We'll talk when we get back."

—but the boy's expression didn't change, not while they were led away, not while Grisha's parents came to his side, holding him—he would not look away from either of them, and his body was trembling but not from anguish—

When Dina woke up next it was within the quarters of the boat—

—in the dark, they were joined by their hands, clammy and desperate. He squeezed her tightly, enough to hurt and she did not let go—

—are you awake?"

She was lying down on the hard metal bench built into the cabin. She looked into the face of Zeke, now human. He and Grisha were hauntingly similar, she realised, except for the lightness of Zeke's hair. His eyes were pale grey-green instead of hazel.

"You've gotten taller," was all she could think to say. She reached out to touch his face and Zeke flinched.

"Don't do that," he said stiffly.

The muscles in her face ached. She could not stop smiling. "Zeke. My God, is it really you?"

His jaw set. He would not meet her eyes, nor did he provide an answer. She didn't want to acknowledge the reason yet.

"I remember you," she told him.

"You're still delirious. You need rest."

"No. No, I remember. You are my son. Your father—"

"That's enough," he growled, but she would not be denied any longer—

"—your father, Zeke! Grisha Jaeger is your father, and I am your mother! We were each turned the day they took us away to Paradis!"

"What did you just say?" Zeke whispered, close to outrage. Dina didn't understand why he was so shaken. She said nothing. "Where did you hear that name?" he thundered, grasping her shoulders and hauling her upright.

"I've been seeing things," she cried, "I've been having visions ever since I came back to this place, up on the Walls and all over Paradis—my Lord, Zeke, I thought you would be safe!"

She was weeping, now. Releasing her to fall back, Zeke went white and silent. His hands were balled up at his sides, shaking. He stood for the longest time, not quite looking at her, then slowly slumped to sit beside her.

"You really remember everything?" he whispered.

"Yes," she shuddered, "I do, I remember everything about you."

"But you don't hate me," he finished flatly. "After everything I've done. I told them what you were planning—I told them what you were, Christ, Dina—"

"It doesn't matter, now," trying desperately to dissuade him, "none of it matters now that I have you." To prove her point, she continued to the next pressing matter: "In Shiganshina, there was a boy."

Zeke's scowled deepened. "There were many children. It's no concern of ours who dies." But he seemed eager to discuss something, anything that did not revolve around this cold reunion, and soon elaborated: "What about him?"

"I don't know," said Dina. "He seemed familiar to me."

Zeke became aggravated again. "How was he familiar? Explain yourself."

"I can't explain it," she moaned. "I just know that he is, Zeke. I need to find him again before it's too late."

"Why? You think he's dad's?" The question seemed wrenched from him against his own will, a bitter thing: "Is that what you're implying?"

"Grisha is alive?" It came out hushed, almost broken. Zeke seemed to understand the damage he'd inflicted and went tight-lipped. But Dina was inconsolable, almost on her feet but weak from transformation. She clutched at his shirt, dragging him in slightly. "Zeke, how long have you known?"

"Does it matter at this point?" His callousness hurt her more than a simple yes or no ever could.

"You knew he was alive," her voice rising to a feverish pitch, "all this time, and you kept it from me?"

"He doesn't know about you!" Zeke roared. "Obviously, he thought you to be dead and moved on! Or perhaps he got tired of waiting for you to come back, did that ever cross your mind?"

Dina was stunned. She was angry, and terribly hurt that he was saying such things, but she could not believe what Zeke was saying. A terrible silence swelled between them.

"You're my son, Zeke," she told him softly. "Nothing will change that."

Zeke shook his head, a violent, disgusted noise escaping him. "That's not the POINT! You know I've been using you, all this time? I've used you like you and dad—you let him turn me into a messiah! Where were you, mother? Did you ever once question his motives? Or was it easier, to let him control me as he saw fit?"

His voice broke, and a shudder ran through his body.

"He loved you," Dina whispered. "We loved you, Zeke. And, yes, you're right. We did make terrible mistakes in the name of that love, but I know he cared for you."

Zeke kept his head down, his frame tense and trembling still, at once a boy trapped in the body of a man.

Dina shuddered. "It's not your right to decide if I should accept you. It was our decision to have you, and I wouldn't change it. Not for anything."

Slowly, Zeke seemed to recover. When he looked at her again, he seemed distraught. She wanted to hold him, and she was afraid he'd brush her off again. But she was not scared enough to try.

He tensed, but let her come close, drawing an arm around his broad shoulders. He was taller than her, now, perhaps a little taller than Grisha would have been.

Silence settled between them once more. She let her head rest on his shoulder and listened to the sound of his breathing, eyes closed.

"What will you do if…if dad's dead?" Zeke asked at last, rousing her. "What if he was killed in the attack?"

"He won't be dead," Dina insisted, utterly illogical, but somehow she was convinced, no, she knew he was alive. "He's out there, he's in the Walls and I have to find him."

Zeke was quiet for a long time. Then he said: "I see," and did not elaborate further.

They returned to Marlian country that very night. The rest of the Warriors had either been completely transformed or killed in the attack on Wall Maria. Only a small handful remained behind in Paradis to search for the whereabouts of the Attack Titan.

Days turned to weeks, and Dina was allowed to stay by Zeke's side. She was given her own set of quarters, clothes to wear, a small bed to sleep in. They did not speak much, nor did she see him often, as he was usually out talking with the other strategists and military heads on what should be done next to apprehend the threat on Paradis.

But one day, a cold, sunny morning in December, Zeke came back early, still in uniform. He dressed far more crisply in his homeland than any of them ever had when he was small, and it felt like a blow against what she remembered. But he was her son, and she had him again.

"Dad's dead. He died several months ago. But his boy survived Shiganshina. There's a girl, as well."

She wouldn't accept it, of course. She couldn't. Grisha had to be alive, he was a strong spirit. But Zeke was solemn, and eventually the smile slipped from her face and she was at him in a fury, shaking him, begging him to reconsider. Her insistence turned to desperation until she broke down and wept freely into his shirt. And he let her get it out, he didn't hold her back or comfort her, just waited.

"Don't you want to know their names?" Zeke asked her.

Dina whimpered, pushing him away and curling into herself in a nearby chair, and shook and shook. He did not interrupt her, merely stood until she had quieted. She didn't look up from her knees, so he came forth slowly, standing in front of her.

"Mum," he said, very quietly. "Can I see you?"

She hiccupped. Looked up through her hair at him, eyes red and wide.

Zeke exhaled. "The boy's name is Eren Jaeger. The girl's name is Mikasa Ackerman. They're going to be cadets next year, after they've done their time in the fields." He smiled grimly. "We have a few of our own Warriors that will be keeping an eye on the two of them." Dina shuddered, looked back down. He took her hands in his larger ones and said: "It's all right, mum."

She almost broke again. It was everything but all right, the way things had turned out in the end.

A long, uneven silence surrounded them before Zeke added, wearily: "I'll do what I can to report back to you. I can't promise anything, but I will try."

Years passed. She tried not to ask, not to be a bother but she latched onto anything Zeke told her like it was gospel.

Eren Jaeger wanted to be in the Scouts. His sister was rather close to him. There was another boy, Armin Arlert.

The three sent within the walls—Annie Leonhardt, Bertholdt Hoover and Reiner Braun—were getting along with the other soldiers. Eren, as well. Despite the horrors he had endured, he sounded to her like a rather headstrong young boy, carried on conviction.

Dina wondered a lot about all of them, but mostly Eren and Mikasa—how they were doing in their studies, what they did in their free time, silly, domestic little things.

Eventually the spark died, and she didn't ask as much, kept it in the back of her mind.

The attack on Trost brought another boon; the discovery of the Attack Titan. The Coordinate.

Zeke was thunderstruck, but Dina could believe it. If Grisha had decided to have another son with another woman, if he was still as much a fierce soul as the man she had known, then what was stopping him from repeating the same mistake he'd with Zeke?

Her sense of purpose was reawakened, yet she was patient. Little scraps every week or so—Eren has been taken in by the Scout Regiment, he's safe for the moment, Bertholdt and Reiner are doing their best to keep an eye on him—the Scout Regiment's expedition was intercepted by Annie—Annie has been captured by the Scouts, we think Eren might have more of a connection with the Coordinate—Bertholdt and Reiner are going to try and take Eren back—

Zeke was absent for longer periods of time, now. He was in the thick of things, she knew, and she prayed for his safety.

One night, unannounced, Zeke finally came back. He was exhausted, she could tell, his clothes were and his glasses askew, but he was alive.

She held onto him tightly. He gasped slightly, but she did not let go.

"The Scouts are checking the Walls," he reported, "for a breach that does not exist. Bertholdt and Reiner are in charge of things for the moment. I just wanted to see you before I return to Paradis."

"Take me with you," Dina said abruptly. "I want to meet Eren."

Zeke looked surprised. "I can't. It's far too dangerous."

"NO!" She grabbed him this time, fire in her eyes that was comparable to madness, "no, no you don't understand, I need to find him, I need to find that boy. Let me go, or I'll—"

Zeke smirked. "Really? What are you going to do to me, mum?"

She petered off. He was grinning slightly; this was all new to him. She sunk into his chest with a displeasured noise.

"I know you'll never forgive me if I make you stay," he told her softly. "But I can't let you come with me. You're—"

"A liability?" Now she was angry. "Is that what you were going to say?"

Zeke kind of grunted, shoulders shifting ambiguously. "You'll just be mad if I say it. But why is this so important?"

She stopped dead at the question, simple as it was. "What do you mean?" she responded, much quieter this time.

Zeke exhaled. "Why do you want to find him, after all these years? Eren is not your son, so what does he mean to you?"

Dina hesitated, and it wasn't lost on Zeke. But there was something that came to her, so simple that she responded without fear: "He's all I have left, apart from you."

He looked so weary, then. Almost ancient, in the light of the moon outside.

And he said: "And what if you die? What will I do, then?"

"It's the least I deserve after what I put you through."

"Don't say that," he admonished, pulling her close, hand at her back. "God, mum."

Dina just smiled vaguely.

That same morning, she was with him, on a boat back to Paradis. She was restless. Arrival and deployment were a blur. Nothing mattered until she was back in the body of her Titan, in the field, surrounded by countless others of her kind.

Reiner was at odds with the local Titans. These Scouts had only gotten more cunning with the aid of time and resource.

But Dina knew that if the Scouts were here, then Eren and Mikasa would follow. She searched and searched the lines of men and women on horseback, but saw nothing.

It was like Shiganshina all over again. She began to fear that Eren might be dead.

But then a few things happened, in rapid succession; Reiner, perhaps driven by desperation, had begun to throw Titans left and right at the little figures on horseback. They scattered to avoid his line-of-fire, but others were not lucky, either thrown from their mounts or crushed altogether.

One, panicked cry cemented her resolve:

"EREN! MIKASA!"

Dina turned around faster than thought towards the source.

There they were, in a sprawl upon the bloodied ground, horse twisted pitifully beside them with its legs kicking about.

She approached as though in a daze.

The girl was trying to get up but she kept curling into herself. She was wounded. The boy began to thrash about, his arms bound.

She was halfway there when the man got in her way. She remembered him, as the one that had saved Eren and Mikasa. Again, he came for her with blades, but he was older, slower than many of the young soldiers, and she crushed him as easily as she had crushed the woman all those years ago.

Nothing would stand between her and Eren.

Dina crouched down to get a better look at them; Eren Jaeger, on his knees, shouting at her with a child's raw hysteria, possessed with the same righteous fury from all those years ago. Mikasa, the very same girl with dark hair and dark eyes, now cowered at his side, working at his binds. She was bent double from her wounds.

Dina couldn't help but reach out to him, unsure what was driving her. Absurdly, there came a powerful urge to hold him, or crush him as she had crushed so many others, or perhaps strangest of all, she just wanted to see what he would do.

And Eren brought his arm back, swung with a clenched fist and hit her palm, full-force. The blow was folly, but the shock of it was nothing short of frightening. Every Titan across that field froze, turned in unison to face them.

Innately, Dina understood what was happening before her body could catch up, but the rest of her mind was struck in terrible comprehension.

The Coordinate, she thought weakly, and then: Grisha. My God, what have you done?

And then the boy roared, and one of her kin lunged straight over him, devoid of reason, taking her to the ground and sinking its teeth into her throat.

She was easy to topple. Not built for combat, merely consumption. Her legs were frail in comparison to the rest of her and she struggled helplessly against the teeth tearing into her body.

More, more were upon her and she knew she couldn't get away, couldn't even scream. She wasn't ready to die, but Eren was gone.

She had time to think: that she wasn't ready, as she was torn apart from the outside-inward, but perhaps it was only fair that things ended this way. As long as Eren was alive, there remained hope.

a/n: Dina/Chuckles/The Smiling Titan as a concept freaks me out beyond words. That, coupled with the idea that most (if not all) Titans are not, and have never been, "mindless". Nightmare fuel for days, man.