Chapter Text
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They were turning Liberio internment zone on its head. What had once been a market square filled with fruits and shouting salespeople trying to make a living, was now an open area with nothing but empty benches — and a grand, wooden stage that was good for just about nothing.
Tybur…
Porco didn’t like how everyone were bending over backwards for this ‘honorary Eldian’ who hadn’t had to do anything but carry a name in order to get that honor. Just the thought of him made his mood sour. Porco and his comrades were all actively giving their lives and their strength to the motherland, yet who got a festival in their honor?
Tybur.
Marley had even evicted several nearby buildings to use them as makeshift headquarters — promising this man all the protection in the world, apparently.
And all of this, mounted within a month of returning home from war. Marely surely wasted no time.
"I get what you mean," Colt said, as they passed the construction area to head outside the gate. "But… I don’t know." He gave their favorite guards a wave and threw them each an apple before lowering his gaze upon the Marleyan cobble stone outside.
"Don’t do that," Porco said, reaching up to tilt Colt’s chin back up. "You deserve to hold your head high out here. You're a hero."
"Sorry. Old habits die hard."
"Yeah. But you were saying?"
"Oh, I was saying something? I don’t know—"
Behind them came the trampling of small feet, and then two kids zoomed past them, giggling: Gabi in the lead and Falco close behind.
Porco looked after them with a glimmer of amusement. Falco hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was going to give it his all to beat that girl. Porco was proud on his boyfriend’s behalf; his little brother was closing in on the impossible. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Reiner seemed to be just as invested in this battle for his titan.
Ok, so maybe that was the main reason Porco enjoyed it. He just couldn’t help feeling immense satisfaction every time that big, bumbling idiot turned grim and sweaty at the sight of his cousin and Falco knifing for the win.
Wouldn’t it be glorious if Falco beat Gabi at the finish line? A small sort of payback — after Reiner so unjustifiably stole Porco’s titan from him all those years ago? Oh, he’d cross his fingers for Falco this time around.
He cupped his hands at his mouth and shouted after them. "Leave her in the dust, Falco!" He chuckled, till the ugly stares from nearby Marleyans took some of the air out of him and the laughter fizzled out. "Heh… Uh, well, as I was saying, I’m all for bringing Eldians back into favor with the world, but… why’d it have to go through Tybur?"
"… I actually don’t mind that it’s Tybur," Colt mumbled. "It’s more—…."
Looking, Porco saw him chewing on his lower lip. "More what? What is with you today?"
"Can I ask you something?"
Porco grunted. "What do you think? Of course you can." He reached for his hand and Colt took it reluctantly. It had been a long time since they'd held hands in public; not since childhood, really. But for a month now, they'd slowly been warming up to it. For a month now, they'd been expanding the boarders of what 'out' entailed; not yet telling their comrades but no longer banning small gestures in their presence. Holding hands out here, for the world to see, that was one of those small feats, even if it still felt a little strained from Colt's side.
"… Don’t you find it kind of disingenuous how they treat us…?"
"… Who?"
"Marley."
"… How do you mean?"
Colt stopped them atop the gravel road and they looked down at base — and the grey sea stretching into the horizon behind it. The air was strange — salty, sure — but strange. What was bothering Colt now? They were closer to their freedom than they'd ever been before, Falco was excelling and they were as good as out. What was there to have a heavy heart over?
"I mean… Everyone’s so excited for this festival, saying it’s so kind to host it inside the zone, like it brings us extra honor. But, they’ve ushered working people out of their sales plaza to do so. And what message does it send that outwardly, Marley’s trying to make people trust us again, yet Marley themselves keep us confined to a gated area like… animals."
Porco stared at him. Didn’t know what end to grab this from. It was wrong on so many levels. Where to even begin? "Colt," he said, feeling his head begin to simmer. "You can’t be serious."
"What?" Colt looked at him quickly.
"What would you have preferred — that they just killed us all instead? Just allowing us to live here at all makes them kinder than our forefathers."
"Our forefathers, yeah. But us?"
"Seriously, stop."
Colt frowned and shook his hand loose. "Ugh." He rubbed his face. "Yes. Sorry. Sorry, I thought maybe you— Since you didn’t seem to like it either—"
"The festival?"
"No, the whole—"
"—I don’t have a problem with the festival. It’s that ass, Tybur—"
"—Yes, I get it. Sorry." Colt began heading down the gravel and Porco followed. Down below, they heard Gabi cheering as she reached the gate ahead of Falco.
Ugh…
"Looks like Gabi’s still in the lead for the armored," Porco grumbled.
"Thankfully."
"What?"
"Nothing…"
*
"Nothing"?
Their morning conversation stuck with Porco for the remainder of the day. He wasn’t the biggest strategy-head anyways, nor was he expected to speak. So instead, he spent the day with his hands in his pockets while his superiors discussed their options for a Paradis assault. For hours.
"Yet Marley themselves keep us confined to a gated area like… animals."
What was Colt’s malfunction? Didn’t he realize how backwards he sounded? They weren't cooped up like animals, they were given their own city within Marley, to accomodate them. Not to mention all the opportunitied they'd been given! This whole warriors program was a gift! Their families got better housing, status and a great pension! Colt was not only wrong: worse, he sounded ungrateful — like Reiner.
Ugh. ...Or maybe the thought of another war was just getting to him. Porco knew he was jaded after all he'd been through... And fair enough, he hadn't had a say in his recruitment, but that still didn't take away from the fact that being chosen was a winning lottery ticket! The only two who couldn't seem that was him, and Reiner.
Ugh,... Reiner, now there was a man who got unjustified praise. Maybe that’s what was irking Porco, actually; somehow, things felt like back in the old days, the way Reiner was somehow everyone's golden child again, despite acting just the opposite. The guy literally stole Porco’s titan from him, took upwards of six years on a simple mission, only to return home unsuccessful as the sole survivor — losing three titans on the way! And now, returned, he had the gall to walk around like his privileges were a misery. It was all on him for fucking up something so straight forward!
Ungrateful idiot.
… Oh, but guess who got permission to offer his ideas to the board at the meeting. Reiner fucking Braun, of course.
Porco found himself staring at the guy with a poorly hidden frown, as the fool’s stammering words faded back into focus. When would he shut up?
"… titans come from the south. As a result, the farther north you go towards the mountains inside the walls, the sparser their defenses."
No shit the titans came from the south, Porco though.That’s the drop-off point for exiled criminals. You didn’t need five years on the island to realize that.
"So we attack from the north?" a superior asked him.
Reiner nodded slowly. "Yes, that is an option… But the water-point to the south is still the only location where large ships can dock. If we want to use our material advances, then—"
"— So the south?"
"Well, then again, we’ve already lost 32 ships off the island’s south shore."
Porco tried not to roll his eyes. Reiner sounded utterly directionless. Why couldn’t he just leave the planning up to the professionals?
"There’s even the possibility that the docks have been destroyed, and—"
"—So what is it you’re trying to say?" Their superior sighed like he was annoyed with a child. Porco didn’t know if he felt vindicated or only angrier — that Reiner made them look so bad.
"… I simply thought that the information I have could be of use to you…"
The man raised his hand. "I understand." Patience had run out — though, Porco thought it had lasted admirably long. "We were wrong to have Eldians speak to us. Though, I did think that you could at least carry a conversation."
"I apologize for not meeting your expectations," Reiner said, sounding like the idiot he was.
Pieck leaned her head back and caught Porco’s eyes. She was probably as eager as him to catch a break.
*
They were the first ones out for lunch. Fresh air blew them in the face as they strode onto the balcony, providing instant relief. Though, there was only so much a mouthful of air could do for Porco’s back after all that standing around.
Pieck leaned over the railing next to Porco and began to laugh under her breath as she scouted out across the training grounds. The kids were hard at work down there. "The Paradis plan seems to be going well," she said.
More people began filing out and Porco growled at the sight of Reiner. The plan wasn’t the problem; bumbling idiots taking up Marley’s valuable time was. "We have some awfully bright officials leading us," he said, leaning his back against the railing. "I can’t wait to hear what kind of strategy they come up with."
"Like entrusting the whole thing to four kids?"
He gave her a look.
Not you too. What’s this anti-Marley sentiment all of a sudden?
They fell silent. Down below, the kids sounded like playing children. Porco remembered how much easier training used to be at that age. Racing each other. Sparring for fun. They didn’t realize how important they were for their motherland; they were just playing.
Pieck sighed. "I wonder what’s going to happen… to us Eldians…"
Porco shrugged. He thought he might say something — just didn’t know what — when he caught Reiner’s expression shifting: the guy sort of stretched his neck and leaned forward as something awoke in his eyes. "Huh?" he said. "He’s in the lead…"
Then Colt also jerked alive — and he came forward to grasp the railing. What was going on?
"Falco passed Gabi."
What? Porco looked over his shoulder just to see Falco sink to his knees and yell in exhausted triumph. His friends came running up to him, cheering like tiny mad-men.
Porco chuckled. No way. "Look at how excited they are over one little victory." He glanced at Reiner; man, he really seemed shaken. This was great. "Sheesh," he snickered. "They have no idea what we’re going through up here."
But Reiner didn’t seem to bite — or even listen. "…Falco," he just mumbled.
What a weirdo.
Then Colt leaned forward more, and Porco realized there were beads on his forehead; he looked twice as moved as anyone else here. And Porco had a sinking feeling he knew why…
"It’s too late to try to improve his results now," the guy said, so darkly everyone turned to him in surprise. Everyone but Porco; he was already looking, already reading what was on his face: Colt didn’t want Falco to succeed. But why? What was this unfavorable sentiment growing in him? Now that he was finally honorable, how could Colt fail to see the value of this thing he’d been chasing?
"There’s no way," Colt said again. "He’s not going to de-throne Gabi."
Porco turned away from the scene, stared at his feet to keep down the bubbling annoyance. "I wonder about that. The selection standards are vague, you know."
"… But— even the Marleyan military wouldn’t make a decision like that. There’s not need to make Falco into a titan, too…"
Porco closed his eyes.
One… two… three…
In front of him, Zeke stepped forward. "Watch yourself, Colt," he said, and Porco had to look. Was Zeke seeing what he was seeing? "Are you making light of that honor?"
Exactly…! Colt shouldn’t be saying this shit…! It's trouble!
His boyfriend pushed off the railing and straightened his back. "I’m sorry, I was being thoughtless!" How uncanny to see him snap back in place so fast. So well trained… and still a rogue?
"… Well, I guess that’s what being a big brother is. Let’s go."
"…Where to?"
"To play catch." The mentor placed a hand on his mentee’s shoulder, and they turned to leave.
Porco didn’t look after them till he was sure their eyes wouldn’t accidentally meet. Instead, he turned only to watch as his boyfriend’s back disappear down the stairs.
Why did he have to go and risk it all like this? Now that they finally had everything they wanted at their fingertips — and all that was left to do to start their lives, was to get the founding titan home — why did Colt have to shake things up? Why couldn’t he just stay in line just that little while longer? They had everything they could wish for — what more did he want?
"…"
"What’s wrong, Pock?"
"Nothing…"