'Doesn't look like much. '

Hamlin was eyeing Levi speculatively. He was curled on his side, head tucked down against his chest, black hair standing out starkly against the white sheets, deeply asleep.

'Believe me, ' Erwin said, tired, 'He is not to be underestimated. ' His chest and throat still ached from the impact of Levi's attack, not to mention his pride and sense of center. He hadn't explained to Hamlin precisely what had happened, but she seemed to have a good idea anyway.

Levi had remained seated, just as Erwin had told him, for some minutes after they'd both fallen silent. Then, slowly, he'd half leaned, half sagged to one side, until he was tucked into a little ball, and he hadn't moved an inch afterward. Erwin suspected he'd fainted again. He'd touched Levi lightly after a while, and found him both deeply insensible and a bit feverish, and it was the latter that had moved him to throw a blanket over Levi's bare body. He suspected ' hoped, really ' that Levi would sleep that way for a while yet, and give Erwin some time to think.

Hamlin had returned an hour or so later, carrying an unopened bottle of expensive brandy in one hand and a heavy duty leather bag in the other, which had turned out to be full of towels, fresh clothes, and bandages, among other things. She'd glanced at both of them, and then had gone to her cabinet and taken out two glasses. Erwin was still nursing the brandy between both hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He'd given up on brushing his hair back into place. A third time was enough.

'Like a little stray cat, ' Hamlin said, swirling her own glass as she leaned against her desk. 'How old do you think he is? '

'God only knows. ' Erwin shook his head. 'Somewhere between fifteen and twenty, if I had to guess. '

'Younger than you, decidedly. I doubt if he's anywhere near twenty five. '

'Yes. '

'Orphaned, I suppose. '

'No one's come looking for him. ' Erwin raked a hand through his hair and looked up at her. 'I presume this means Marshal Embry was amenable to turning him over to me? '

'Not in the slightest, ' Hamlin said. 'He was raving about the boy's insolence to the entire pub. Sounded a bit like he'd rather put together a mob than wait for the executioner tomorrow. ' She glanced at the battered clock on the wall. 'Today. '

Erwin felt a strange, jerking feeling in his chest, a little chill that had nothing to do with the physical settling over him. 'No? What, then? He's still to die? '

Hamlin took a quick drink, and set her glass aside. 'Not yet, ' she said, swallowing. 'I convinced him to stay the execution for a week. '

'A week? ' Erwin couldn't quite keep the indignant sharpness out of his voice. 'We only have a week? To ' what? '

'I won't have that tone, Smith, ' Hamlin said calmly. 'Or that ingratitude. Do you know how ridiculous an errand this was? '

'Ma'am, ' Erwin said, lowering his head. He let out a long breath, trying to force that strange urgency out of him. 'I apologize, ma'am. '

'Good. ' Hamlin rapped her desk lightly with one hand. 'That's better. Now I'll tell you what I've gotten you. You have one week to beat some training into him. Whatever you think will stick. Something good, I'd hope. When your time's up, you'll present him to the commandants. He will be impressive, impeccably behaved, and perfectly obedient. Like the finest showing horse you've ever handled. If he fails on any of these points, according to their standards- '

'He dies. '

'Indeed. ' She cast a long look at him. 'And by your hand, Erwin. Embry want your absolute cooperation in this. If you fail to train him properly, you'll be asked to cut his throat yourself, then and there. '

Erwin looked down at his drink, and then up again. Levi was still soundly asleep, his dark brow furrowed a little. Erwin was no longer fooled into pity or underestimation by his size or by his generally bedraggled state, but something about him was more than a little sad. Something about how little his impressive displays of power and his obvious desire to survive would mean, now. Something was coming home to him, something to do with his choices, and his responsibility for those choices.

'He's not an animal, ' he said, quietly.

'No, ' Hamlin agreed, still gazing at him. 'But you've asked to be allowed to treat him like one. '

That was it. Erwin stared forward. Levi's eyelashes were as dark as his hair, and the set of his face in sleep softened his naturally harsh expression somewhat. He wasn't beautiful, necessarily ' not in the way of painted portraits or glowing young social debutantes, nor in a way that would easily be described or quantified. But there was something about his overall being, the aura of him, the sheer power and presence that seemed to make him so much larger than he really was. Something painful.

Erwin had been hunting a few times, on private estates owned by friends of his father's family, during times of particular patience and paternal indulgence on his father's part. There were animals in their reserves, living placid, carefully tended existences on acres and acres of private land unimagined by the likes of the people who lived out beyond Wall Sina, animals who lived specifically for the pleasure their eventual deaths would bring. Deer, foxes, wolves, and others; they were chased, stalked, driven down, and dragged all the same, while his father's friends chuckled and toasted each other from horseback and lawn chair about what a fine new wall piece this one would be.

He'd gone once with the Marquis de Berthelier, a patron of the arts and a friend to the service, on a long wolf hunt in the winter, through the Marquis's reserve. The wolf had been a magnificent creature, shaggy and winter-coated, swift and clever, and it had given them a long and difficult chase through the snowy woods before a shot from someone's rifle had finally downed it. The creature had struggled, hurting, dying, as the Marquis braced his foot against the laboring grey body with a hearty laugh. 'Not good enough to outwit me, ' he'd said, as he'd put his rifle to the animal's head, as though he himself were capable of such grace, of running and leaping and twisting and dashing just as the wolf was, rather than being nothing more than a fat man who could barely sit his horse. Erwin remembered distinctly the revulsion he'd felt in that moment, the strange and sour taste of helplessness, of responsibility.

After all, he'd told himself, as he'd looked away carefully, not wanting to see the wolf die, he too had chased it down. He, too, was the hunter, and no friend to wounded and desperate beasts, no matter their beauty.

'Yes, ' he said, feeling Hamlin's eyes still on him, but remembering too the sensation of Levi's small body pressed tightly against his, not resisting his hand around his throat, but only waiting, waiting to see what he would do next. 'I have, haven't I? '

Hamlin smiled thinly. 'In any case, ' she said, 'He is now officially your responsibility. From now until he dies, I suppose. '

You haven't earned it.

Erwin rose to his feet. 'Thank you, Captain, ' he said. 'I suppose I should let you go home. ' He nodded his head at the huddled little bundle on the bed. 'I'll take him with me, never fear. '

'Take all this crap with you, too. ' Hamlin kicked the leather bag lightly with the side of her boot. 'I got some clothes, but I don't know how well they'll fit him. There's a uniform in there, too. One of the women's smaller sizes. Hopefully it'll fit him. You think you can contain him in that tiny little apartment of yours? '

'I don't really have a choice, do I? ' Erwin said, smiling ruefully. 'And I suppose neither does he. '

***

By some grace of God, Levi slept all the way through the slightly harrying process of getting him back to Erwin's rented rooms. It was almost sweet, Erwin thought sourly, as he picked his way down the muddied cobblestones, with Levi's head pillowed on his shoulder and his breath against Erwin's neck. Sweet, if he could forget the memory of how quickly the boy had been ready to murder him. He was thankful it was so late, as there were no other passersby at this time of night to see them and to wonder what Egon Smith's ill gotten youngest son was up to with some other lad.

Though technically most younger officers were expected to live in the barracks until they made brass, Erwin's standing both socially and academically had made it easy for his superiors to look the other way about his desire for private lodgings. He'd ended up renting the topmost floor of a three story building whose first floor was given over to a rather casual middle class eatery, and whose second was a boot shop. The building was situated near the end of a row close to Wall Sina, and he could see the great structure out of all of his westernmost windows.

The third floor was the attic, more or less, made up of one large space with two smaller rooms branching off from it. He'd converted the main room into a sort of combination living area and study, with his shelves for books lining one wall, and the small wood stove in a cleared space of it's own on the opposite. There was one wide window at one end, and two smaller ones at the other. The second largest room was his bedroom, and the third a spare room for storage, though he had little to store there. At the moment it was storing a good pile of winter blankets and the old thick cotton-stuffed mattress he'd used himself until he'd bought one of the newer spring-loaded ones last spring. The fact that he'd kept it so long, he thought, was the second of God's graces that evening.

Despite himself he was gentle as he laid Levi down again on the old mattress, still feeling the strange weight of his choice upon his back. He was more than aware that Levi would happily cut his throat if given half a chance at escaping. That much had been made clear. Erwin thought it might even be better for all involved if he simply left the door unlocked that night, giving the boy the opportunity to slip out into the darkness and disappear again. He'd probably live longer, one way or the other.

He will be impressive, impeccably behaved, and perfectly obedient.

You haven't earned it.

That expectant, almost patient look on his face. Waiting to see what Erwin would do.

You haven't earned it.

Erwin laid his hand across Levi's forehead, frowning at the warmth there, and Levi opened his eyes again, as though he'd been waiting for that touch.

'Now what, ' he said.

Instead of removing his hand as though he'd been caught at something he shouldn't have been doing, Erwin let it settle flat against Levi's skin. Levi narrowed his eyes, but there was no tension in him, as though this was just the natural response to a near stranger caressing his face.

'Now you're going to rest a little, ' Erwin said.

'I don't sleep very much, ' Levi said, without inflection.

'You're going to right now. You've got a fever. '

'Maybe I can get to the hallucination stages by the time they string me up. '

'You're not going to be hanged. '

Levi lifted his eyebrows slightly. Erwin felt them them move. 'No? ' he murmured. 'What am I going to be, then? '

Erwin hesitated. 'Trained, ' he said at last, uncomfortable both with the sound of the word and with how true it felt. 'To fight as a soldier fights. '

'Soldiers don't fight properly, ' Levi said, matter-of-fact. He turned his head a little, hair sliding damp and soft beneath Erwin's fingers. 'Too many rules. They have too much to think about. ' His eyes fixed lazily on Erwin again. 'So? '

Erwin blinked. 'So? '

'High society shithead, and you don't even know that it's polite to introduce yourself? I can't remember, though, what is it ' lower level peons get presented to people like you, and then you graciously introduce yourself. It goes in that order, right? '

Erwin sat back, letting his hand slip away from Levi's face. 'My name is Erwin Smith, ' he said. 'I'm a lieutenant, and I am not high society. '

'Oh, sorry. ' Levi didn't smile. 'I guess I missed you hanging out in the alleys and eating shit out of the garbage piles along with the rest of us, then. '

'I meant ' by their definitions, that is. '

'The only ones that matter, I guess. '

'That isn't what ' my mother is a parlor maid in the palace. ' Erwin looked away from him, hating the little bubble of anger that had come up in the back of his throat like bile. 'My pedigree affords me many opportunities to see privilege, but rarely to be a part of it. '

'Shit, ' Levi said, tipping his head. 'You've got a real skewed view of the world, Lieutenant Erwin Smith, you know that? '

'Nevertheless, ' Erwin said, hear the prim offense in his tone and hating himself for it, 'Nevertheless, 'lie Levi, it is my view of the world that is saving your life- '

'Which I didn't ask you to do. '

'-and it is my view of the world that will make you great- '

'Which I didn't ask to be. '

'-and you will shut your mouth while I am speaking, ' Erwin exclaimed, temper flaring beyond his control, 'And be grateful for this last chance at life! ' Levi opened his mouth again, and the unimpressed look on his face made heat surge into Erwin's cheeks. He reached out in a whip-quick movement, seized one of Levi's wrists, and jerked him onto his back, looming over him, huge and furious.

'You will shut your mouth, ' he hissed. 'You will sleep this night, and rest after your ordeal. When you wake in the morning, if I am not awake, you will sit right here, quietly, without moving an inch. Am I understood? '

Levi stared up at him. Erwin's shadow had fallen across his face. His lips were a little parted and there was a thoughtful tilt to his brows. He didn't respond, and Erwin gave him a rough shake.

'Am I understood, Levi? '

'Yes, ' Levi said. His voice was a little more throaty than usual. He was watching the movement of Erwin's mouth as though fascinated by it. 'I understand. '

'Good. ' Erwin realized how hard he was gripping that small wrist, certain suddenly he could feel the fine bones grinding together, but Levi didn't even flinch. Instead he closed his eyes, head lolling, and drew one of his legs up bent at the knee. The inside of his thigh pressed against Erwin's hip and Erwin realized the position he was in abruptly. He released Levi's arm and got to his feet as gracefully and carelessly as he could manage, turning away to press his hand to his burning face.

'Good, ' he repeated, and strode for the door, slamming it closed behind him. The lock clicked into place like the sound of a gunshot, and Erwin found himself staggering, reaching with both hands to grip the arm of the battered sofa that was the living area's centerpiece.

He bent over it, fighting for breath, and for some semblance of his emotional control, which seemed to have fled him entirely.