Chapter Text
Birds chirped at the pinkish purple rays of the rising sun. Down in the forest, that light was dimmed to greenish-gray. Amid the thick fog covering the ground was a tiny mound, looking like nothing more than a clump of peat and fallen leaves, yet inside were two sleeping men.
Eren woke up to heaviness on his chest. Looking up, he saw dirt, and for a brief moment he wondered if he was dead and buried. Then there was a stir, the heaviness on his chest moved, and two narrow eyes gazed down at him, one gray, one pale blue.
What the…? Oh, right. Levi.
He then remembered building the primitive shelter in the woods.
“How are you?” Levi asked in concern.
Eren licked his parched lips and tried to wake himself up more. “Cold, but feeling better.” He lifted up his cast and frowned at it. “My arm is throbbing. I guess broken bones don’t like the cold.”
Levi looked over what the blankets exposed. His gaze softened at the sight of Eren naked, and his hand drifted up along the exposed chest. He whispered, “Other than that, are you okay?”
Eren felt a shiver at the gentle touch of Levi’s hand. “Just … mmh … just cold.” He looked up, and a sly smirk rose to his lips. “Maybe you could warm me.”
Levi caught sight of that naughty little smile. This was the Eren he missed. He leaned over, kissed those devious lips, and Eren moaned softly.
“Levi…”
Just that much, and Levi felt the change in him. Fear was defeated by joy. Eren had survived a brutal night, and it was like they both needed to celebrate this victory. His hands drifted over Eren’s chest, softly brushing across his nipples, which got a gasp as Eren’s body shivered in a much better way.
Levi felt a shift of Eren’s hips, a straining in the underwear, enough to show his pleasure. He leaned over and began to kiss Eren along the neck.
“Ah! Levi.”
He loved to hear him moan! Out here in the woods, far from anyone, he wanted to listen to Eren’s amazing voice moan his name.
Eren’s eyes drifted open, but as soon as he saw the scarred face, he flinched and immediately slammed his eyes shut. He tried to focus on the sensation of Levi’s lips. Eren kissed back with dire need. He wanted to escape the nightmares, escape…
Suddenly, Eren pulled away. “We can’t! We can’t!”
Levi yanked back, only to see Eren with his eyes wide with fear, looking around at phantoms of nightmares.
“Eren!” He held both of his cheeks to keep him looking straight at him, not at whatever terrors swirled around him. “It’s just me.”
He saw the mismatched eyes, and his eyes slammed shut. Levi could feel all of his muscles tense up, like Eren was ready to fight for his life. A crushing anguish hit him, that even this much could put Eren through so much trauma.
“Eren,” he whispered. “Eren, I’m here. It’s only me. We’re alone.”
“I know!” he screamed. His arms squeezed Levi even tighter.
Levi stroked his fingers through Eren’s lengthy hair. “What should I do?”
Eren let out an enraged sob of frustration. He opened his eyes, but seeing Levi’s scarred face stung him with guilt. “I’m scared.” He reached up and traced the scar running down Levi’s cheek. “I’m scared they’ll hurt you again.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” He leaned over and tried to kiss Eren, but the young man turned away.
“We shouldn’t! If you get caught—”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, buried in sticks, leaves, and snow. If anyone did come this way, they’d think it was moles rutting.”
Eren still shook his head and cringed.
Levi did not want to force Eren, but he understood the conflict within him. The poor boy was traumatized, and Levi grieved to realize it was his own face that stung Eren so much. He reached up and touched his brutalized eye and lengthy scar.
What was he supposed to do? Wear a mask?
Maybe not him, though. Maybe…
Levi yanked out his handkerchief and wrapped it over Eren’s eyes.
Eren turned his head left and right. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“You were fine in that hut because there was no light. It’s only when you can see me. If I have to be blind in one eye, I’m making you blind in both eyes.” He tied the blindfold and pulled back. “Is that better?”
Eren could not even open his eyes with the cloth tied around him. Like I’m facing a firing squad, he thought briefly. Then he felt a warm touch to his shoulder, and he jumped.
He could see nothing! He could only hear and feel Levi’s touches.
“Stay calm,” Levi whispered into his ear. “I’ll protect you.”
That made Eren laugh quietly. “With you as a protector, I pity anyone who crosses us.”
“I show no mercy, not to enemies…” He leaned over and plunged his tongue into Eren’s mouth, shocking him and getting him to groan. “…and not to you.”
Now when Levi kissed him, Eren felt only warmth, and when he felt those burning hot fingers slither over him and grasp at his muscles, only erotic curiosity tickled his mind.
Blinded! He kind of wished they had Carly’s large bed so Levi could also bind his hands and leave him helpless and at his mercy.
Within the darkness of the shelter, with blankets and clothes piled on top of them, their bodies began to grind together, a slow and hypnotic movement so they did not bump the shelter and send the whole thing crashing onto their heads. The sounds of their lips and hummed groans filled the tiny space.
“Levi!” Eren moaned.
“Is this better?”
He nodded eagerly. He wanted to feel more! He wanted Levi’s body to rock against him. He wanted Levi to conquer all of him, to be helpless, defeated, surrendered, to be taken as his prisoner.
“More,” was the only word he could moan out.
Levi felt a spiking thrill at that single word. He dived down, kissed him with carnal fierceness, and dragged Eren’s lower lip between his teeth. Eren hissed in pain, but the thrust of his hips up against Levi’s body showed what he really thought of that roughness.
Levi’s hand plunged down between their bodies. He rubbed over Eren’s underwear and found him ragingly hard. He slipped Eren’s underwear down and lowered his own to his knees. Then he grabbed both of them together and began to stroke.
Eren moaned wantonly, and his breath fogged up the early morning chill. His good hand groped at Levi’s ass, pulling, encouraging him.
“Levi,” he whimpered.
As Levi’s face drew up with pleasure, the furrow in his brow deepened. He cursed softly, sometimes in French, sometimes in English, with a few Yiddish phrases slipping out.
“Fuck, good. J’ai envie de toi. J’ai besoin de toi … désespérément. Ikh libe ir. Je veux te toucher partout. Your body … fakakta … Ir makhn mir tsufridn.”
The narrow area around them heated up until their breaths stopped smoking. Eren’s hips began to thrust up faster to meet Levi’s hand. His whole body moved on instinct and dire need. He did not act timid at all, but wild. Levi had a feeling that if they had the room to maneuver, Eren would have flipped them over and thrust down on him wildly, as he loved to do.
Eren’s toes curled in his boots, and his good hand dug into Levi’s flesh. He chanted Levi’s name—“Levi, Levi, Gott, Levi!”—until his body began to seize up too intensely to even speak.
Levi’s hand sped up, stroking mercilessly. Eren’s face turned red, and the veins on the sides of his neck bulged as he bit back any further noises. His breathing went frantic, and Levi felt him shivering as he reached the peak of his pleasure.
Then an explosive grunt burst out, and Eren’s mind shattered in an outpouring of bliss. His mouth hung open. All thoughts of remaining quiet were gone. If someone heard him now, perhaps they would think it was wild pigs grunting.
He heard desperate words from Levi, whose hand sped up as he worked only on himself now. Eren’s brain floated in warmth, blinded by Levi’s handkerchief, but he could imagine it. He had seen the view so many times before, the way Levi’s mouth gritting hard, the furrow in his brow, sweat sparkling on his skin. Eren smiled, able to picture it in his mind.
But a part of him realized that he was picturing Levi as he looked before everything changed.
Before that thought could sadden him, he felt wet heat and heard an airy groan of relief. He could picture this too, so vividly in his imagination. Then Levi collapsed on top of Eren, clinging to him as his body hummed in relaxation.
“Eren,” he whispered wearily. “I need you, takhshet.”
When Levi finally managed to lift himself enough to look down, he saw the blindfold was still in place. He wanted to pull it back, to gaze at his precious takhshet, but a part of him realized he was only seeing Eren with one eye. It was still weird for him, and he grew worried that if he pulled the blindfold back, Eren might panic.
He scowled and cursed himself. He really had pushed Eren into something he might not be ready to do. Levi caressed the lengthy hair and hoped for the best.
He whispered, “Are you all right?”
Eren nodded.
“I’m sorry if I forced you a bit.”
Eren chuckled and blushed. “Last time, it was me pushing you into things too quickly. I think it’s fair.”
“That’s not how it works. Don’t think you need to push yourself.”
“I’m German. I’ll always try to push myself. It’s how I was raised.”
His stubborn takhshet!
“Don’t worry,” Eren whispered. “You know me better than anyone. I trust you.”
Hearing that warmed Levi’s heart. He laid his head back down onto Eren’s chest, and only then did he reach up and slide the handkerchief away. He kept his head down, listening to the sound of Eren’s heart beating. Even when Eren combed through his hair, he did not raise his head, lest he show his scarred face and ruin the moment.
They stayed where they were for a few minutes, cuddling one another, basking in the warmth that had chased away the snowy cold outside. Eren reached down to Levi’s hand but realized it was the one with missing fingers. He still could not bring himself to touch that hand.
Maybe that was pushing himself too far.
Instead, he stroked Levi’s black hair and along his bare shoulders, sighing in bliss.
After a long time enjoying the silent morning, Levi pulled up. “If we don’t clean this mess, it’ll freeze our dicks together.”
Eren smirked naughtily. “That sounds sexy.”
“That sounds painful, idiot.”
“But then your cock will always be next to mine.” He licked his lips and added, “Although, I would miss tasting it.”
“Eren!”
Eren giggled at the cranky voice and blush on Levi’s cheeks as he grumbled some curse in French.
They used some of the dead leaves around them to wipe up the wet mess. Then they dressed, and Levi pulled the eye patch back on to protect the glass eye. They dug out the leaves blocking the shelter’s entrance, and a blast of cold air rushed in. Eren immediately felt an uncomfortable shiver. He wished they could have stayed there, naked and together, for hours.
Using the leaves and sticks from inside the shelter, which were slightly drier by now, Levi started a fire. Eren relieved himself, then went over to the flames to warm up.
“I’ll find us some food. Keep the fire going.”
Levi took off into the woods, and Eren pulled out their tea kettle to fix a hot drink. He added only a little bit of tea leaves, trying to be conservative with what they had. Eren eagerly sipped the weak tea, warming himself up even more.
However, the silence was unnerving. He looked around, hoping to see some sort of sign of Levi, but the forest was too thick to even see a shadow moving in the distance.
What if he got lost? What if he got injured? What if he took off now, leaving Eren all alone?
His eyes slammed shut. “He’s coming back. Stop thinking he won’t. He came back for you before, and he’ll come back now.”
Yet a deep fear he had been struggling with since leaving Metz bubbled back up to the surface: weeks living without knowing if Levi was alive or dead, if he would come looking for him or take off to save himself, and debating if being together was even the best thing to do.
It wasn’t! They could have frozen to death last night.
I’m already putting his life at risk! If I just died…
“Stop it! Just stop!” he hissed, clutching at his hair. “He loves me. He even touches me. All of that, and he still wants me…” Eren sank his head between his hands and let out a quiet sob. “Why did you ever have to fall in love with me?”
* * *
It was almost an hour later when Levi finally returned. Eren was pale, but after nearly freezing the previous night, Levi was not that surprised. He also looked tired, but they both had a bad night. As for the look Eren gave him, like he was both pained that he returned but also deeply relieved … well, Levi knew Eren was struggling with inner demons.
He sat down next to the young man and spread out his haul: some nuts, berries, plants, and even a tawny bird.
“How can you hunt anything without a gun?” Eren asked in wonder.
“You’ve obviously never hunted for real.” He set the bird aside and sorted out the plants.
Eren looked over the assortment. “Pilze!”
Levi pulled out some bright orange mushrooms. “There were quite a few. These woods were filled with girolles, as well as cèpes. Mushrooms, the English call it.”
“Mushroom? Because they would grow in a room full of mush?”
Levi snapped, “I don’t know how they came up with the word. In my opinion, it makes champignons sound unappealing. Hopefully I can sell some of these, in case we need another hotel.”
Eren looked at the next pile and picked up one stalk. “Is that grass?”
“Asparagus. It’s wild, so it’s thinner than what you’re probably used to. Still good to eat. I’m surprised there were any left this time of year.”
“And the berries?”
“Aubépine. I’m not sure of the English name. I found three trees with them, but the first two tasted like shit. The third one was decent. It’s edible, that’s what counts.”
Eren next picked up a nut.
Levi snapped, “Must you touch everything?”
“What is it?”
“Châtaignes. That’s another one where I’m not sure about the English word, although perhaps it’s chestnut. I never ate them when I lived in London, but they really loved chestnuts there. There weren’t many, but I picked what I could. They’ll be good to eat on the road.”
“You’re quite the … what’s the word … Nahrungssucher … food seeker?”
“It’s called a forager. Foraging means picking plants in the wild.”
“Foraging, huh? We learned a little in Hitlerjugend, and as a child I would search the beach for Meeresfrüchte. Um, sea … fruit? No, food?”
“The English call it seafood,” Levi told him.
“It is a good skill to learn. Then you’ll never go hungry, no matter where you are.”
“It was a mandatory skill while hiding from the Nazis.”
Eren’s warm feeling of pride about Levi’s vast knowledge faded as he realized, while to him this was a novelty, to Levi foraging for food was a matter of life or death.
“Don’t look like that,” Levi grumbled. “You’ll spoil my appetite before I have a chance to eat.”
He got to work plucking the pheasant. He was worried that handling the dead bird might make Eren sick, but instead the young man got to work adding some berries to the weak tea.
“We can still eat the berries, but they’ll make the tea taste better,” he explained when Levi gave him a quizzical look. Then he ate a few nuts with a hearty appetite.
Eren felt fine as Levi plucked feathers off the bird. After all, he had prepared fish and chickens with his parents as a child. He knew about gutting, scaling, skinning, and plucking.
However, once the feathers were plucked off, Levi used the trench knife to chop off the head, lower wings, and feet. That made Eren flinch, but he forced himself to realize, this was something he and his father did to chickens many times.
Then Levi took the bird a little away from the smoldering fire, cut open the anus, plunged his fingers inside the bird, and in an expert move, all of the organs ripped right out, falling to the forest floor.
Now, Eren’s stomach surged. He slapped a hand over his mouth, and he swallowed back acid. Visions flashed into his head, gruesome memories of Levi hemorrhaging from his anus.
What if he had found him like that, left in a room, his guts ripped from his anus and spilled all over the floor like a slaughtered chicken?
Levi caught on to Eren’s sickness right away. He shifted aside and kicked the innards far away. He had to admit, although he knew how to prepare a bird like this—he had fixed many for Petra—that last part brought up some dark memories.
“Arrêtez, bâtards, arrêtez!”
He wondered if the Germans had joked about spit-roasting him. They had said many crude things to him as they tortured him in that prison.
He took a deep breath and relaxed. That was the past. He needed to survive now, and that meant eating.
After breaking off some sticks to make a roasting spit, he arranged the bird over the fire.
“I’m going to toss all of this crap far away. Can you cook?”
Eren nodded, still feeling hot around the lips and sick to his stomach. As Levi left, he focused hard on the pheasant.
Don’t think about him being gone. Focus on the food. You need to cook this food for Levi. It’s just like camping. You’re camping with Levi. Don’t panic. Don’t panic!
He was just beginning to feel the anxiety bubbling back up when he heard the crunching of shoes and saw Levi’s fedora. Eren’s whole body relaxed.
Levi watched as paleness in Eren’s face seeped away and color returned. He sat close to Eren, so that his good eye was near him and he could watch Eren in his peripheral vision. He took over, slowly turning the bird over the fire.
“We need a pot,” Levi muttered. “Most of this stuff would work better boiled in a stew.”
They drank hot tea as they nibbled on nuts, berries, and mushrooms. Finally, the bird was roasted, and they broke off pieces to eat, not saying much, instead looking around at the frosty land and listening for any suspicious noises.
Once they were done, they packed up the rest of the meat for later, stomped out the fire, and pulled the last of their gear out of the primitive shelter. They loaded up and faced each other.
“Ready to go?” asked Levi.
Bracing himself for another day of walking, Eren nodded. They left the rough shelter behind, walked back to the forest road, and continued on their way.
“Where are we?”
Levi pulled out the map. “The Belgian border should be on the other side of this forest. We can be in Arlon before lunch.”
Eren pouted at the map. “Too bad the sun is setting so early, or we could make more ground. At this rate, we’ll reach Calais in the spring.”
“It can’t be helped. I can’t walk fast, and you’re a mess.”
Eren took the map from Levi’s hands. “Looks like there’s a train station in Libramont. We could walk there, and you could take a train to Calais.”
“What do you mean, I can? What about you?”
Eren shrugged. “We agreed before, it would be dangerous for me to board a train, just as it’s dangerous for me to board a boat until I get identification. I’ll meet you there whenever I get there.”
Levi yanked the map back and folded it up. “To hell with that. You’d get lost, or starve, or freeze to death, like you almost did last night. And who’s going to talk your arse out of trouble when someone realizes you’re a German?” Levi shook his head stubbornly. “We’re not splitting up.”
“There’s no reason for you to stay with me.”
“Of course there is!” Levi snapped angrily. That stubborn glare made Eren sigh with a reluctant smile.
“Stubborn half-blind Jew.”
“Stupid half-deaf Nazi.”
They both laughed, and Levi gave Eren’s hand a squeeze.
“I want to be with you,” he said, gazing up at the young man, “and don’t you dare try to escape me. It won’t work, and you’ll just waste both of our time.”
Eren gave him a smile, but as they began to walk again, his face fell into anguish.
Why can’t you realize I’m trying to protect you?
They followed the forest road and listened to the birds singing their morning songs. Their fingers stretched out, drawn to one another, and threaded together like it was natural to be intertwined. Levi glanced up at Eren, wanting to make certain he was okay with this.
Eren gazed down at him with another smile of reassurance. “We’re alone in the woods. I’m not afraid.” He gave Levi’s hand a squeeze. “I wish I could always hold your hand. I wish the world wasn’t how it is,” he said wistfully. “I was born in the wrong decade.”
“Trust me, the last decade wasn’t so great, nor the one before that. More like we’re both born in the wrong century.”
“Maybe in the future, we can hold hands. Maybe once the war is over, the world will change for men like us.”
Levi wished he could be optimistic, but he knew that prejudices were hard to defeat. There would still be people who hated homosexuals, just as there would still be people who hated Jews.
War didn’t magically banish evil.
In a little over an hour they saw the forest road open up. However, Levi came to a sharp stop.
Eren almost tripped to stop the mechanical pace of his legs, and he looked back with confusion.
Levi whispered, “Once we step out of this forest, you’ll be scared again.”
Eren realized he was right, and he let go of Levi’s hand. “I wish we could stay in a place like this. Maybe we’ll find an abandoned cabin in the woods.”
“Good luck on that!” Levi sighed heavily. He almost wished they could stay another day here, allow Eren time to heal, and reunite properly. If it was summer, maybe they could have used that primitive shelter for a few weeks. It would hold up, after all. Yet with the icy cold, they had to find somewhere safe and warm.
Levi suddenly grabbed Eren’s hand and yanked him off the road. Eren tripped after him, confused about what he was doing. They went behind a tree, and Levi tugged Eren down.
“What…”
“Shh!”
With his injured eardrums, Eren had not heard the sound of boots until a man was almost upon them. Although the man was armed, Eren realized it was a hunting rifle, and the man was dressed in humble clothes, not a uniform. They both covered their mouths with cloth to hide the steam of their breaths and made sure not to rustle a single leaf, lest that hunting rifle be aimed at them.
They remained hidden for many minutes, until finally Levi could not hear him. Maybe they could have walked by the man without trouble, but he did not want to risk Eren suddenly freaking out.
He finally collapsed down, sitting and resting. His buttocks had begun to burn and sting being in that position.
Eren sat next to him and saw the pain in Levi’s face. “We can rest before we leave the woods.” He grabbed Levi’s fingers with both of his hands. “I want to be able to do this a little while longer.”
Levi smiled through his pain, leaned over, and rested against Eren’s shoulder.
“This is how I wanted to travel,” Levi muttered.
“Dodging forest hunters?”
“No, idiot.” Levi squeezed Eren’s hands. “Having you to myself. No uniform, no Nazis, no threat of bombs looming over our heads. Just you.”
Eren glanced down, his hand began to reach up, wanting to hold Levi, embrace him, and keep him folded within his arms. That was how he imagined traveling.
Then he looked back over to the road and saw a gray uniform.
Eren asked and pulled away. Immediately, his gun was out, although his injured arm did not hold it as steady as he once could.
Levi had his hand on his own gun. “What is it?” he whispered.
Eren looked at the road. He had been certain he saw a gray Heer uniform and a man staring at him. He rubbed his eyes.
“Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep.”
“What did you see?” Levi asked firmer.
“Nothing. A shadow of a memory.” He looked again. It was almost like he could see it there, but not quite. “Maybe the cold froze my brain.”
He reached his hand down and helped Levi up. Eren was ready to go, but Levi stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“If you’re hallucinating…”
“Es war nichts. It was nothing.”
“Eren,” Levi said sternly, not about to let him run away from this. “What did you see?”
Eren looked away, hating that now he was worrying Levi. Quietly, he confessed, “Myself.” He looked again, and it was like the specter glimmered into focus for a moment again, only to fade like morning mist. “Am I going crazy?”
“Probably.”
Eren jolted at Levi’s casual statement.
“Look, after what we went through, it would be asking a lot to not go at least a little crazy. Hell, I was seeing hallucinations in the hospital.”
Eren sneered, anguished at the idea of Levi suffering with madness. “Of what?”
Levi pouted, looked away, and muttered, “You. I wanted to see you so badly, at times I thought you were right there in the room with me. I’d even talk to you, only for a nurse to come in and wonder if everything was okay.” He chuckled to himself and mused, “Imagine if both of our hallucinations come true, and I get three Eren Jägers to myself!”
“Levi!” Eren squeaked. He looked again at the road, but there was nothing there now. “Maybe I’m having your hallucination.”
“Nope.” Levi grabbed Eren’s hand. “Because my fantasy came true.”
Eren could not help but feel his cheeks turning bright red as he turned away and muttered, “Kleiner Schäker.” You little tease.
Levi loved seeing Eren return to that boyishly adorable side. It warmed him up. This really was a dream come true. Sure, he had not imagined just how traumatized Eren might be, but they were together.
As much as he would have loved to flirt even more and really get Eren’s cheeks as red as cherries, he instead pulled him along by the hand. “Let’s not dawdle this time.”
They continued through the last leg of the forest, and finally they stepped out into farmlands. Eren and Levi gazed across the peaceful countryside dusted with snow. They glanced at each other, and a smile lighted both of their faces.
“Belgium,” Levi whispered. “We’re one more country away from the war.”
“And closer to freedom,” Eren added.
Their hands briefly squeezed together.
It did not take them long to get to Arlon, where they stopped to rest and eat. Levi managed to trade his mushrooms for a ride to Habay-la-Neuve, 25 km west. He reasoned that this was a day off their journey, so well worth it the trouble of foraging for fungi.
After the drive, they continued to walk until the sun sank toward the horizon. Not seeing any nearby towns on the map, Levi instead kept an eye out for barns where they could seek shelter. He would rather risk the wrath of a farmer than sleep in the snow again.
Luckily, they came upon a farm with half a dozen children playing out front. Levi hesitated, worried how Eren might react and remembering how poorly he handled being around a bunch of children just three days ago. However, one curious child ran up to them.
“Êtes-vous des voyageurs?” Are you travelers?
Levi was relieved to hear that they spoke French here. “Oui.”
The child looked around. “Il se fait tard. Attends ici. Je vais demander à mes parents si tu peux rester avec nous.” It’s getting later. Wait here. I’ll ask my parents if you can stay with us.
Before Levi could even reply or ask Eren what he thought, the child ran off, shouting to the other children to get their parents, and claiming they had guests coming to dinner. Left on the road looking stunned, Levi looked over to Eren.
“The brat immediately invited us to stay. Brave, or naive. Do you think you can stay around a bunch of brats?”
Eren was feeling much better, and he nodded, making sure not to speak.
“Right, then we’ll tell them you’re mostly deaf and mute. Just pretend to ignore everyone, point to your ears if they try talking to you, and don’t respond verbally to anything, not even me. I’ll try to use hand gestures to translate. Do you think you can do that?”
Eren nodded, already determined not to speak another word until they left this place.
A mother and father came out of the house, and unlike the fearless child, the father at least had to wherewithal to bring a rifle. Levi switched personalities completely, becoming extra polite, greeting the couple with a bow, and speaking in his most refined speech. He introduced himself as Rivaille Martin and told them they were heading to Libramont—Eren had mentioned that city earlier and it was the first name to pop into his head. He also told them that Eren was a French soldier left mostly deaf and mute from the war.
Luckily, the parents were sympathetic, which may have been easier when the children gathered around Eren, naturally drawn to such a tall, handsome man with a calming face. Eren smiled down at the children, painfully happy to see that there was innocence still left in this world.
Maybe it was that gentle smile—it certainly would have won Levi over in an instant—but the parents went from suspicious of the man with an eye patch and fierce glint in his eyes to pitying the man with such a tender smile, a kind soul who obviously had been through hell, with a broken arm, deaf ears, and who spoke no reply to the children’s many questions.
They were brought inside and had a chance to take a bath. Levi was glad to clean off the filth he had imagined infesting him since sleeping under the sod shelter. They were welcomed at the family table and given a hot meal, merely some soup, but it tasted like a feast after their meager rations.
After eating, the family retired to a lounge where the children read books by lantern light and the father offered cigarettes to the two men. Eren gladly took one, but Levi refused. They talked, and the father asked for news. Their family had no electricity, no radio, and he rarely made it into town during this time of year to get a newspaper. Levi told him what he could about Metz, Saint-Avold, and the Americans entering Germany.
While Eren was in the toilet, Levi slipped the father some money to pay for the food. Although they were low on funds, he felt that kind people like this deserved to be rewarded.
The children were rearranged to make a room for Eren and Levi. They had a single bed that had held two of the children in a room full of toys. Levi was exhausted and ready to fall straight to sleep, but Eren stayed up a little later, studying their map by candlelight.
As he heard Levi beginning to breathe heavily, Eren looked out the frosty window. Without him, Levi could easily take a train and get to a port town. He could slip out tonight, while Levi slept, and vanish. Then again, last night showed that he would probably freeze to death if he went out there now.
He looked back down at the map and pointed to a spot. Libramont. He had noted earlier that morning that the city had a train running through it, and then Levi had said that name tonight. They could probably reach it by tomorrow.
That was where he could slip away. Sure, Levi might search for him, but he could write a letter explaining himself, ordering Levi to take the train to Brussels or Antwerp so he could escape while things were peaceful in Belgium. The tides of war could change at any moment, and Eren wanted Levi to be safe, no matter what.
He heard a hum and looked around as Levi rolled over in bed. Eren blew his candle out, worried if it was disturbing him. However, Levi seemed to be deeply asleep.
Eren got up, knelt by Levi, and smiled at the peacefulness of his sleeping face. Like this, lying on his side in the dark, the scar was hidden, and he could imagine things like they used to be.
Back then, he would have marched through hell to follow Levi.
Now, he felt he was only going to lead Levi into a deeper hell if he stayed by his side.
Eren began to reach out, but he did not want to wake Levi. His hand pulled back, and he sighed at how things had changed.
What he wouldn’t give to rewind time and leave with Levi before all of this! Before the hell of Fort Queuleu, before the trauma of Maizières-lès-Metz, before Woermann slaughtered the Jews.
So many times, Eren thought back to all the moments when he could have released those innocent people and led them away. He could have saved so many. Instead…
His eyes slammed shut as he saw a thin man with glasses and heard the blast of the gun that killed that innocent man. His gun.
He stood up, ready to walk back to the map, but froze sharply as he saw that gray uniform again. A Heer officer!
No…
The phantom turned toward him, and this time Eren was certain.
It was himself!
His Nazi past.
He sneered, ready to yell at the ghost to get the hell away from Levi, when the vision faded, and he realized it was just his own reflection in the frosty window.
Eren rubbed his eyes and whispered, “I really am going insane.”
He figured, if he was going to dream of the past, he might as well go to sleep and stop seeing these things in real life. He slipped into the bed, slammed his eyes shut, and tried to shove away those memories so he could sleep.
* * *
It was a beach, but it was not how he imagined a Mediterranean beach might look, with pristine white sand, turquoise water, graceful cliffs, maybe some palm trees or olive trees, he wasn’t sure what grew around the Mediterranean, only that it would be warm and sunny and peaceful.
Instead, the sand was littered with Allied encampments, the water was tainted with blood, and it looked like another winter storm was moving in off the sea. Rather than relaxing in a bathing suit, he saw himself in a gray Heer uniform studying a map in his tent, while outside he heard the distant bursts of artillery shells.
In reality, there was nothing new to see on the map. He just used it as an excuse to take a moment to be alone. Fresh out of officer training school, he had been educated and drilled about how to handle battles like this, yet they could not prepare him for the stench of death or the feeling of your comrades’ blood on your skin.
Jean burst into the tent. “Lieutenant! Movement on the western flank.”
Eren straightened up and put on his serious face. He turned to his new non-commissioned officer, whom he had known for only a few weeks. “What sort of movement, Unteroffizier Kirschtein? I doubt we can hope for a retreat.”
“If only! They’re making a push.”
“Have we heard from the Luftwaffe?”
“The clouds are still too low. They can’t give air support without dropping below the range of their anti-aircraft guns. The Heer is on its own.”
Eren grumbled, “They won’t risk getting shot at while we get rains of bullets every day.” He raised his chin. “We are the Führer’s feet, the Führer’s guns. We need no assistance from the sky. We shall halt their advance. Unteroffizier Kirschtein, prepare the men. I shall call Command and request new orders.”
Jean saluted stiffly. “Jawohl!” He turned sharply out of the tent.
Eren picked up a phone. “Put me through to command—”
Suddenly, there was the sound of machine gun fire. Eren dropped to the ground as the tent was riddled with holes. He sneered, wondering how the Allies moved in so swiftly. Seriously, their speed was unlike anything Germany had ever faced.
He heard a voice on the dropped telephone. “Hello? Hello?”
Risking getting hit, Eren reached up and yanked the phone down. “We’re under attack! Machine gun fire on our camp. I repeat, we are…”
His tent suddenly collapsed on top of him. Had the Allies purposely targeted the officer’s tent? He just hoped that meant the rest of his men were safe. Eren fought the tent fabric, trying to claw his way free, while the rat-tat-tat-tat-tat of machine guns continued and men screamed.
* * *
Eren felt a hand grab his wrist, and he thought it was Unteroffizier Kirschtein pulling him free from the tent. Then two hands grabbed him and pinned him down.
“Eren!”
Unteroffizier Kirschtein never called him Eren, not until much later, after they were on first name terms. He opened his eyes and saw it was nighttime. The sound he mistook for machine guns was actually ice pellets crackling against the window and pattering loudly on the roof.
Then the face in front of him fully dawned on him. Levi!
Eren sat up and covered his ears. “Es klingt wie Maschinengewehrfeuer.” It sounds like machine gun fire.
“Seriously, don’t talk in German,” Levi hissed.
Eren cringed and curled into a ball, sobbing softly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s the noise.”
Levi looked around at the icy storm that had hit them. What bad luck! At least they were indoors when it started, but that meant the ice sounded louder with glass windows and a tiled roof. He hugged around Eren, holding him firmly.
“It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Eren was a mess, trapped in the memories of war. He had escaped his collapsed tent and joined Jean in a defensive line that only barely stopped the Allies from making a greater advance. They lost men, they lost ground, and the commanding officers above him seemed more mad about his company being shoved back half a kilometer than about how many men lay wounded in medical tents from bullets.
Slowly, the memory played out, the nightmares faded, and Eren calmed down. He felt Levi behind him, petting his hair. He leaned against Levi.
“Thank you. I’m sorry.”
“At least you weren’t screaming this time, although I was afraid that you might rip these nice people’s blankets. Maybe try lying on your good ear so you can’t hear the noise.”
Eren did, but that meant facing Levi. He had thought it would be best to face the other way, but Levi lay down facing him. Their eyes focused on one another, and Levi reached over to caress Eren’s hair. The young man closed his eyes, enjoying the touches.
Eren reached over under the blankets and finally found Levi’s hand. Levi smiled to himself and squeezed his grip. He inched a little closer and rested their foreheads together.
“I’ll protect you,” Levi swore.
Eren sighed with happy relief. “Just stay beside me. That’s all I need.”
They were quiet for the rest of the night. Still, under the blankets and hidden from view, their thumbs caressed each other, gentle and clandestine touches that warmed their hearts from all the ghosts and nightmares of the past. This time, Eren fell asleep, not with thoughts of leaving Levi for his own sake, but with warm feelings of happiness at simply being together.
# # #
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Foraging — Now, a bit about foraging. Foraging is popular where I live, I enjoy it from time to time, and I have many friends who are currently excited for mushroom season here in the Pacific Northwest. Here, foraging is a way of life for many people, and mushroom picking goes right along with our obsession with blackberry picking. I looked up foraging in France and also specifically mushroom foraging, and it’s described as “virtually a national sport” with strict rules and etiquette.
(Girolle in French, Pfifferling in German, Golden Chanterelle in English: whatever you call it, these mushrooms are one of the most common in foraging due to their bright color and “peppery apricot” taste. However, if you live on the American East Coast, beware of the poisonous eastern jack-o-lantern mushroom with a similar color.)
Mushroom — Levi might complain that the English word “mushroom” makes the delicious fungi sound unappealing, but actually, we can blame the French for that word. It comes from the Anglo-French musherun.
Aubépine — Hawthorn in English. My childhood best friend had a hawthorn hedgerow in their front yard. My mom was scared to death when, in kindergarten, I told her about eating berries I found at a friend’s house, until she went over and my friend’s mom explained that she grew this bush so the neighborhood kids had something to snack on as they played outside. Not all hawthorns taste good, though, so Levi saying he had to try two bushes before finding one that tasted good is accurate.
Châtaignes/Chestnuts — This chapter takes place mere months before Robert Wells and Mel Tormé wrote The Christmas Song and immortalized this holiday snack with the lyric “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose.” Around here, come Christmastime, you can buy a bag of fire-roasted chestnuts for a few dollars (the money going to charity) in basically all of the downtown holiday markets.
Foraging in France — I looked up foraging in France and also specifically mushroom foraging. It’s described as “virtually a national sport” with strict rules and etiquette. For example, in France, you cannot sell what you forage, you cannot collect on someone else’s private property (obviously), and you can only collect up to 5 liters (1.3 gallons) of wild goods, which is deemed “enough for personal use.” Monetary punishment or up to three years in jail can be given to those who exceed that limit. Considering only 30% of the land in France is forested, with 75% being private property (thus off limits to foragers) it makes sense that they have strict limits.
In comparison, here in Oregon, 48% of the total land area is classified as forestland, and 71% of that is owned by the government. With our nine-month rain season, there is an overabundance of mushrooms. National parks have limits on foraging, but to my knowledge, Oregon State Parks, Bureau of Land Management lands, and other recreational areas do not have any limitations, besides local rules regarding sensitive ecosystems.
For example, my place overlooks a nature preserve, and foraging is not allowed, but that is to protect the wetlands. However, if we find blackberries near the nature preserve, we are encouraged to pick as many as possible. The more you pick, the better it is for the environment.
(roadside blackberries)
That is because the Himalayan blackberry is an invasive species choking out the native Pacific blackberry, and it is what you can find growing on the sides of roads and taking over fences, parks, and tree lines in suburban areas. So the more roadside blackberries you pick, the easier it is to control the spread. There is no limit to how many roadside blackberries you can pick.
Just don’t be cruel to nature, or Bigfoot will eat you!
🎄Merry Christmas!🎄
✡ Chag Chanukah Sameach! ✡
😊Happy Birthday Levi!😊
2024 is a rare year when both Christmas and Hanukkah land on the same day. So enjoy your Christmas presents and fruit cake, eat latkes and sufganiyot while spinning the dreidel for chocolate gelt, Happy Festivus to the Rest of Us, and let’s all hope 2025 brings happier days. Lord knows we need it!