In His Steps
“If you step one foot off of our estate and join the scouts , never dare return,” Winnigan’s father roared, as dusk settled on the horizon of Wall Sina.
Winnigan hiked her skirts up to her knees as she prepared to mount her trusted steed, Dot. “If it meant dying a noble death as Pietro did, it’s worth my time.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Winnie,” her doting yet absentminded step-mother pleaded, clutching her husbands vest for dear life, knuckles white under her adornment of rings. “You just don’t want to get married!”
Nudging Dot in the sides, the pale spotted horse began its trot to the front gate. “Two things can be unrelated, and still be true,” Winnigan said, more to herself than anything else.
Down the cobbled streets of the innermost circle, the safest streets of Paradis, Winnigan raced to begin the training she had committed herself to since the death of her brother.
…
Nineteen felt old for a trainee, something Winnigan wasn’t sure was a good feeling. Recruits around her seemed to be as young as thirteen, an age when Winnigan was still captivated by fanciful dreams. Dreams of perhaps writing novels, joining the king’s court, among other things.
So, she was reminded of the improbability of those old dreams as even in training, for a job so highly in demand, she barely made the cut.
ODM gear seemed to be made for those only with great physical capabilities. Sure, Winnigan was coordinated enough to fly from structure to structure, yet she still lacked the core strength required to keep herself upright at all times. When practicing a stamina-based course, recruits as far as five years her junior left her in the dust. However, Winnigan excelled in all other studies. Anything to do with titan history, anatomy, as well as strategy came to her as easy as breathing. She supposed that’s why she hadn’t been ousted from training.
That, and her inability to return home pushed her even further.
Since Pietro’s passing, the inheritance of the family business rested on her shoulders. Winnigan had a second sibling, younger, a brother named Josef, a teenager much more inclined to shoulder the familial responsibility.
Sex work came in more dignified forms within the walls, more civilized the closer you came to the center. Underground, however, brothels stretched far and wide. Women, mothers, daughters, wives: all using what they had to survive. The Morgan family fortune profited most off of such affairs, investing in brothel houses to facilitate their business. Inside Sina, they were considered consorts, concubines, whatever the nobles preferred. Escorts inside of Wall Rose, and nothing outside of Maria since the attack on Shiganshina years prior. Underground, they were prostitutes, whores. While consorts brought in the gold, the Underground brought in the millions. While such affairs provided a comfortable, even stuffy life, Winnigan dreaded the idea of that burden over her head for the rest of her life. Josef was much more fit, having accompanied their father all over Paradis to manage the trade since he was twelve. Winnigan was even younger the first time she followed their father, Lord Morgan, into the dark brothels beneath their city.
Pietro’s death inspired her greatly, as he had left in the dark of night to join the scouts. Rumor had it that he had a lover waiting for him there, though he never disclosed his reasons to Winnigan or anyone else in the family, for that matter. The way he died, fighting for freedom, made Winnigan realize that in their own way, the Morgans were titans in their own way, feeding on the lifeblood of those desperate enough to sell themselves.
Winnigan assumed her noble blood, and furthermore relation to the highly honored scout Pietro Morgan allowed all of the grace the military had allowed her.
Of all of those in the 104th squadron for Winnigan to befriend, she had been chosen by the future Military Police. Reiner Braun and Annie Leonhart, specifically. She had been careful to disclose her intentions to anyone, since she knew her physical inability and mental superiority made her perfect MP material. Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt must have realized this as well, since they took her under their wing without a second thought.
“You’ve got an advantage in height compared to other chicks here,” Reiner assured her on the sparring field. “That’s where you need to put your stock in. When we start in just a minute, go for the things shorties like Annie or Krista can’t reach.”
Winnigan could hear an annoyed scoff from Annie behind her, otherwise silently spectating. Reiner had made it his sole mission, or “senior project”, as he put it, to make a fighter out of Winnigan. As the bell sounded to begin the sparring match, Reiner allowed his opponent to make the first move. When Winnigan recoiled for a clear strike to the gut, Reiner tensed in the center to block the blow. Taking his advice, Winnigan used this small distraction to throw her right fist up into Reiner’s jaw, inches above everyone else.
Thrown back by the momentum of Winnigan’s punch, Reiner barreled his bull-like figure into her, head-first. She allowed him to ram into her abdomen, using this oportunity to throw her arms around his neck and pull him to the ground. The two rolled in the dust, the only sound being the heavy breathing and grunting from the two fighters. Wind knocked out of her from the strike to the abdomen, Winnigan struggled to muster the strength to flip Reiner off the top, where he had her straddled at the waist firmly. The two held eye contact until Winnigan finally loosened her grip, laying her head on the ground and tapping out.
“Not bad, Money-Clip,” Reiner complimented, his personal nickname for her still causing a twinge of embarrassment and a slight blush to her cheeks. “Annie, how long was that?”
Annie checked her stopwatch expressionless. “A minute forty-five.”
Reiner clicked his tongue and Winnigan sighed. “Better than last time! You really got me with that fake-out at the beginning.”
Winnigan perked up, the corners of her mouth upturning into a proud smile. “Just actually tense your stomach if you’re gonna let me ram into it.”
Winnigan sat and took notes as the three future MP’s practiced sparring. The thing about having a photographic memory and a liking to strategy, watching fights was just as beneficial to her learning as being in the fight herself. She sketched positioning, bullet points with observations she had made of both the victor and loser of each match.
The Battle of Trost is when all of that note-taking came in handy.
“Graduation isn’t even here yet, and we’re going to fucking die,” a recruit cried across from Winnigan as everyone suited up to join the fight. She had been separated from her inner circle, thrown into the fight with other acquaintances she had made in her time training. Sasha, Jean, and Connie. Sasha helped her tighten her straps with shaking hands, and Winnigan tried her best not to make eye contact. She identified Connie as the one who had just made the remark about graduation, and she watched pensively as he paced the building they were so hesitant to leave.
Winnigan gave herself the role of defense as they approached the front lines, keeping a sharp eye for any incoming titan or flying debris. As smoke rose into the air to her left, she nudged Sasha, who yelped in response. “I think there’s a titan on the other edge of that building, nine-o’clock.”
Jean whipped around. “My nine or *your* nine?” His gaze followed the line of sight that both Winnigan and Sasha were frozen on and he stumbled backward. Winnigan broke herself out of her trance and herded the group into a nearby alley as titan feet stomped from above, downing the buildings they had just been hiding out in. “Has… has anybody seen Marco?”
Marco, assuredly Jean’s best friend was nowhere to be seen. Winnigan didn’t know this trio very well, and knew their missing friend even less.
“I saw a lot of recruits booking it to the wall for safety,” Winnigan offered. “I’m sure he had the right idea that we didn’t think to do and got himself to safety.”
“The wall sounds nice,” Sasha grumbled, gaze a hundred miles away.
“Let’s get there then,” Connie said decidedly, peeking his head out of the alleyway to check the status on the titan. “It’s headed the other way. Let’s get out of here.”
“The city is swarming with titans, how the hell are we supposed to do that?” Jean snarked, running his fingers through his hair.
Winnigan cleared her throat and prepared her ODM guns to take flight. “There’s four of us. Let’s make a diamond formation, that way we have full vision on our surroundings. I can take the front peak, allow you guys a cushion of safety from the front. Two of you take the sides,” Sasha and Connie locked eyes and nodded. “And Jean, you take the back. You will likely have the best spot to spectate out of all of us.”
“And what if they come from behind?” Jean whined.
Winnigan patted her gas cans. “That’s why they’ve been training us to go fast.”
As they took off across the rooftops, each recruit yelled to the group the positioning of each titan they saw, and the approximate distance between them. A great commotion and plumes of smoke came from the west, to which Winnigan yelled to her comrades: “let’s go the opposite fucking way of that!”
So, as they neared the wall and prepared to scale it, they didn’t see the Abnormal titan at first. They didn’t see it come to the rescue, tearing apart the titans in it’s path.
“Walls,” Sasha panted, grabbing Jean’s forearm to pull him onto the flat platform atop the wall. “This climbing shit is not for the weak. Anybody got a cracker or some jerky or something? I’m dying here.”
The group didn’t respond. Winnigan and Connie watched the faraway action in frozen disbelief, and Jean was booking it to the group of soldiers he could see a quarter-mile away, likely searching for Marco.
“Oh, fuck!” Sasha exclaimed, finally seeing the spectacle the others had been engrossed in. She clambered onto Winnigan, squeezing her waist and shaking once again. Winnigan winced, feeling the sore, deep blue bruise from Reiner the day prior. “The fuck is that?”
“I don’t know,” Winnigan seethed, wrenching Sasha off of her body. “Let’s follow Jean. See where we’re needed.”
Connie didn’t follow. He was still frozen in place, jaw agape. “Connie, come on!” Sasha bellowed, breaking into a jog in Jean’s direction.
“Fuck, I’m joining the MP’s,” Connie whispered. “I don’t want to see a titan ever again.” He shook his head, breaking out of his stupor to follow the others.
Though fear also gripped at Winnigan’s throat, her heart dropping as heavy as a millstone to her stomach, something clicked in her brain. Seeing what killed Pietro, finally, sparked a fuse that she hadn’t managed to light in training. A new flame, a new burning desire to become closer to her older brother than ever before. She broke into a full-speed run, jumping over the wall supports like hurdles, approaching the group of survivors at lightning speed.
A familiar blonde ponytail came into view. “Annie,” Winnigan huffed. “Thank the gods.”
“Where’s Jean?” Sasha asked, hands on her knees close behind.
Annie shrugged. “Took off looking for Marco, they tried to stop him but he was pretty determined.”
Sasha swore loudly, but not near as loud as Connie did when Sasha relayed the information when he finally caught up. “Are we gonna have to go find that jackass now?”
Winnigan shook her head. “I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m staying here until given orders.” She turned to Annie and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Reiner and Bertholdt?”
Annie sighed. “We got separated not too far back. They’re tough though, don’t worry too hard.”
When Annie shrugged out of Winnigan’s grasp, she recoiled. “You’re bleeding.”
Winnigan raised a brow and inspected her palm. Sure enough scrapes deep enough to draw blood adorned both hands. She’d hardly noticed from the adrenaline of trying to live. Must’ve came from the ODM gear, or maybe climbing the wall.
“You shouldn’t go back out there like that,” Annie retorted, joining the main group of survivors and returning with a roll of white cotton bandages. “Here, I’ll wrap them and the two of us can run the perimeter of the wall and look for soldiers needing help getting to safety.” She poured the remaining water of her canteen over Winnigan’s open wounds, expressionless as always despite the muffled groan escaping Winnigan’s mouth. “Hold it together, Winnie. You’ve got it better than most soldiers I’d bet.”
Annie cut the bandages with a sharp, spiked silver ring around her finger that Winnigan had seen plenty of times before. “Damn, that’s useful, you got any more of those?” Annie almost smirked in response.
“It’s a village token. Real special where we’re from.”
With that, the two disembarked in separate directions, Winnigan saluting the other soldiers with a bandaged fist as she sprinted by.
Where she stood, the rubble below lacked any sign of life. Whatever titan situation happening on the other end of the city must have been starting to settle down, since ash plumed into the sky at a slower rate. Winnigan’s eyes trained on the base of the wall, certain she would find soldiers or civilians hiding out there.
What she didn’t expect was to find Jean again, trying distractedly to scale the wall. His light brown, strawberry hair blew into his eyes, so he didn’t even see Winnigan attempting to give him a hand up until she called out to him. “Any luck with Marco?”
Jean’s breath hitched as he was pulled onto the platform once again, of which Winnigan misunderstood as a grunt. “Sorry for the half-ass pull, I guess I skinned my hands out there—”
“Marco’s dead,” Jean croaked, going limp in Winnigan’s arms. “He died out there and I don’t even know what happened. He was gone when I got there.”
Winnigan was at a loss for words. She didn’t know Marco well, but she’d seen him almost daily. Losing someone she’d lived with during training was something she was unprepared for.
“Are you injured?” Winnigan deflected, and Jean shook his head. “Okay. Well, if you want to come with me, I’m looking for people who need help and I’m hoping to figure out what the *fuck* is going on with that defected titan.”