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heavenzscent · 5 months

Note

💌🧺🐍

For @mikatsuobushi

Setting: Post Canon , 1800’s

Themes: Jealousy

Authors Note: I have been going through the worst writing slump and I really wanted to challenge myself by writing jealousy in a less sensational way. I think often jealousy is just such a quiet thing that we try to ignore and deny.

Also I really wanted to write Connie as being a little more emotionally intelligent then he lets on. I thought maybe one day this could become a full length fic where connie tries being matchmaker. I wish Connie had more of a role in alot of jeankasa fanfics.

I hope you enjoy this story and I'm sorry for the wait.

6 years post rumbling

“Hurry !” Armin called from inside the carriage. Jean would have preferred to ride his own horse but he needed to look his best for the occasion. It was the night of the winter ball, the largest ball to have ever taken place according to anyone with a mouth.

And Mikasa may be there and he hadn’t had the chance to see her since his return.

But anyway…

With all the resources and the threat of war over, the people of the island had come increasingly indulgent in the finer pleasures in life that before had been reserved for royals. Weekly assemblies took place in even small villages and almost every young woman was sent to etiquette classes instead of the military.

When he was young it was common for girls to simply join the military, get into the Garrison, meet a husband and quit. Especially when he was a cadet with food being scarce many parents had handed their children to the government so there would be less mouths to feed at home and their children were guaranteed a meal.

Jean peered down at the bustling street of his hometown from the balcony of his hotel. He had admired this hotel since he was a boy. He and Thomas Wagner had once swore that when they were adults and had earned a higher place in the world they would share drinks on the balcony. He was here now but it wasn’t how he had thought all those years ago. Thomas was long gone and instead of kids playing while dodging horses and dingy carts on the streets there were carriages and bicycles.

Girls were jumping and twirling out of dress shops in new dresses or holding large bags with hooks on top no doubt containing a gown for the upcoming winter ball.

He even recognized some of the young women on the street from the welcoming ceremony three days ago. It had been three years since his last visit and he hoped from here on out he could spend more time at home. It seemed to be the case with how politics where playing out.

He heard a bell ring from the street and could see an impatient Armin waving up at him to hurry up and run down.

He checked his room, locked the door and ran down the stairs onto the street meeting Armins impatient babbling and Connie's nervous eyes. They were to be the guests of honor tonight. The Jaegerists were pretty much backed into obscurity within the public mind after one too many political debacles and it only would have taken someone with half a brain to grab the hearts and minds of the people and steer them away from the fascists but luckily they had Armin who had far more than half a brain.

The coachmen quickly snapped the reins once they shut the carriage door. Women waved handkerchiefs as they rode past, some recognized them but many others simply recognized an expensive carriage when they saw it.

“It's crazy the difference.” Connie mused.

“From then and now.” Jean asked.

“No, From Here and There.” Connie corrected.

Across the sea they were still rebuilding the world and in Paradise it seemed as if the world was flourishing.

There was a weighted pause in the carriage although once Connie broke it Jean was convinced that it had only existed within his own head.

“Will we be escorting Mikasa tonight?” Connie asked him, pretending to sound innocent. Like he wasn’t poking a wound.

“No.” Armin answered. He had arrived two weeks prior to Jean and Connie.

Connie nodded. “Not surprised she doesn’t enjoy this sort of thing.”

“Surprisingly she is coming.” Armin said. “But Niccolo is her escort tonight.”

Connie chuckled. “Being replaced?” He teased Armin. But it felt barbed towards Jean.

Jean stopped looking out the window to face Connie.“Huh!?”

Both men looked at him; Connie with actual confusion (maybe he wasn’t playing innocent one could never tell with Connie.) and Armins brows knitted with concern.

“Why is she going with Niccolo?” He asked in a calmer voice. He knew nothing of this. Since when had they grown close enough to attend events together no less?

“They have been spending a lot of time together lately.” Armin explained that Niccolo had been the one who checked on Mikasa after their departure from their last group ambassador trip and that for a time that they had even both lived together at the Brouse’s when Mikasa’s roof had caved in with snow and how grateful that Armin was for Niccolo while they had been gone.

Jean on the other had only felt like a bastard. He should be grateful. He really should. Hadn’t he worried about Mikasa's state for years? Tried pushing to come back home just to ease his mind? This was a good thing. Even so he felt horribly and disgustingly jealous.

“Wow I didn’t know all that!” Connie exclaimed.

“Well Mikasa’s been keeping a low profile and getting mail across the ocean isn’t exactly discreet. She couldn’t risk exposing that a Marleyan lives here on the island.”

“That makes sense why she never maintained him in her letters.” Jean huffed.

Connie arched his brow.“You two write.”

Jean felt as though he had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar but he brushed off the feeling. “Of course.” He shrugged.

“She only writes to me on my birthday.”

“Well do you write her?” Jean asked. Although his ego began to grow. Other than Armin he was the only other he knew of that regularly wrote Mikasa.

Connie nodded in understanding and Jean imitated him, his brow still knitted, imagining all the time that Niccolo of all people got to spend alone with Mikasa while they were gone.

The entrance was flooded with couples and young women with their escorts lining up, shuffling forward while excitedly waiting to make their entrance into the grand ballroom.

Meanwhile, Mikasa hadn’t felt this uncomfortable heat since she was in the military. It was the all too familiar feeling of not having enough air and as though she couldn’t make herself small enough, that her body took up too much space as if betraying her own comfort. At some point she had learned to ignore that to make everyone else feel small in front of her stature and accomplishments. But she wasnt that young woman anymore. That young woman had been a mask for harsher times.

Niccolo looked as calm as ever the only indicator of his discomfort was the flush of his cheeks but even that served to make him look more attractive and boyish in spite of being in his late twenties. She wondered how she looked. She could only guess cold and mean like some sort of porcelain doll due to the short glimpse she caught of herself in a passing mirror.

What’s her problem she thought to herself before quickly realizing the cold woman in question was in fact her own reflection.

She was glad to have Niccolo beside her; he in many ways was so different from herself but like her he was a soldier at a time. She found they could understand each other in a very distinct way and she could see how Sasha had come to love him. He was soft inside, he enjoyed cooking and quietly watching peoples faces as they ate his food. But if they complimented it too much he got that boyish flush and would mutter some profanity and shuffle off.

They were the same. He and her. They were givers. Born in a world that was too cruel and called for them to make use of the less savory aspects of their personalities.

But those days are over. Long gone. A little past half a decade.

A step forward.

She took a breath while looking around at her fellow Eldians. They where so different from back then to now.

A step forward

Breath.

Now people wanted horses for frivolous things like races, luxury carriages and even to make them dance. The people of Paradise wanted food until their ribs expanded just for any old Tuesday. Knives were now commonly embossed with jewels never expected to see blood. It was a different world then they one she had once understood.

A Step forwards

Breath.

Wait about 20 beats then the next person or couple would be ushered out the doors.

A step forward

Breath.

This had been going on far longer than necessary.

After about 20 steps forward she found herself in front of another mirror. She looked more irritated this time and the flush of her cheeks didn’t match Niccolos. She looked like a huge spoiled child. Her straight hair was curled into ringlets and put into a fancy updo that looked pretty but also very unlike any version of herself she had come to know. Even as a child her hair had always been bone straight, never as much as a wave unless it had been braided the night before but it always somehow would pull itself straight by the evening.

Kaya had used a heated curling wand. Mikasa had felt an apprehensive excitement as Kaya, now a young woman styled her hair but within this moment she couldn’t help but feel strange amongst the crowd as though she were a liar of sorts.

She was. She was a huge liar and a phony for sure. But she still didn’t care to feel it. Not in this crowded room of self important assholes.

The so-called Loyalists. Loyalists to the crown.They weren't any better then their fascist brothers the Jaegerists. They just wanted to keep the status quo. Their lands and titles and unearned respect.

A step forward

Breath.

Looking in the mirror she could very much notice that her lips were plumper than usual, only making her look even more bratty in her opinion. She hadn’t pouted since… Well she couldn’t recall but she must have at some point. The lipstick and the balm make her lips look flushed and maybe even swollen though which she wasn’t sure looked appealing or silly.

This was the new sort of fashion and although it had been a fun novelty at the Brouse house it quickly felt annoying to her.

Jean should be here. What would he think? She pushed that thought aside, it was silly and made her feel nervous which she didn’t need.

A step forward

Breath.

The dress was also far too tight. It was an empire waist and it pushed up her breasts ridiculously. She looked like the crude drawings boys would draw in the military. She remembered finding some when the girls were being punished and had to clean the boys barracks.

Staring at her reflection once more, she couldn't help but wonder who designed such a thing and who it was really meant for?

Did Jean like dresses like this? He seemed to not mind, even when she was in a cardigan and a long skirt his eyes lingered. That had been three years ago and he had left in such a hurry.

Step forward

Breath.

None of it mattered. Three years he was on the continent with other people. There was so much she couldn’t say in her letters to him and with all the important connections he had he probably omitted much more of his life abroad. He probably knew tones of interesting people and some people were women. And some of those interesting women would be pretty no doubt. And some of those pretty women would find him appealing as well.

Niccolo squeezed her elbow bringing her out of her silly thoughts.

They would see them soon. Their friends. All of them together at last.

Armin, Connie, Jean.

Finally.

For how cramped the entrance hall had been the grand ballroom had lived up to its name.

The new moon's light beamed within the room and electric chandeliers as well as candles in sconces lit up the entire room. A buffet table was full of delicacies and waiters made rounds around the perimeter with trays full of hors d’oeuvres. A particular tray caught Connie's attention leaving Armin and Jean to scan the room for a comfortable place to mingle.

Jean wanted to avoid the dance floor. He wasn’t in the mood to dance with every insistent girl in fear of upsetting her much too doting and powerful father, brother or uncle.

Unfortunately no matter how close to the balcony or in the middle of the bite or conversation took place there was an excitable young woman wanting a dance with a tall man. Some didn’t even have the courtesy not to scrunch their nose when he revealed his name but still a tall man to spin them around and show all the expensive ruffles in their dress was all that was needed for the night.

“Mikasa.” Niccolo interrupted the conversation between the leaves and wind that she had found very compelling in comparison to what they had been subjected to in the ballroom.

“I think we should go inside now. See if Connie and Jean have arrived. It’s been about 3 years since their last visit. They are probably anxious to see you.”

“They know me well enough. They will find us here eventually.” She shrugged. In truth she was nervous. She wasn’t used to butterflies and didn’t know how to settle them.

“Even though they are your old friends to everyone else they are important men they are probably being held up with all the nonsense formalities as we speak.”

Mikasa sighed. He was right.

“Let's go save them from it all.” Niccolo urged her on like she was a spoiled child as they emerged from the garden with its dense greenery and stately lamps. She didn’t think she would ever wear this sort of style again. The man had gone mad and forgot who he was speaking to.

“Because we are such a ball?” Mikasa rolled her eyes.

“You mean me?” Niccolo arched his brow, smirking his shoulder already raised ready for what only Mikasa could call a light hit. Maybe he hadn’t completely forgotten.

“You see th-theese… Jaegerists! They simply have no respect for order. You know many more would have supported Eren. We were between a rock and a hard place. You remember! It's not WHAT he did but HOW, You understand, HOW. It is a shame that you had to... well you know...” The man traced his finger horizontal to his throat making a creaking sound. “ But a deviant like that must be dealt with.” Connie felt as though his ears would start bleeding. There was something wrong when he thought someone sounded absolutely idiotic. Although he had gained some sense over the years he didn’t have the natural wit or study capacity of people like Armin and Jean. But he knew how to be plenty pleasant even to the worst of them. Even more so than Armin who had to fight an overwhelming need to correct the fallacies in others' logic.

Connie looked around for some backup. Jean was dancing with a blonde girl; spinning her around making her giggle giving her face a lively rosyness . Jean on the otherhand had a disconnected sort of expression, his mouth stuck in a false smile and eyes with a sort of vacancy to them.It was almost annoying to observe since Connie wished he could switch places with him even if the girls were a little bothersome. It was better than this, not even a pretty face or cute giggle to enjoy. He made a note to watch his posture and catch some eyes hoping to be oh so unfortunately whisked away from this dull conversation for the sake of not being rude to a sweet lady in need.

“Care for dance Mr.Springer.” An all too familiar cool voice said in his ear. Beside him was Mikasa with a tight smile and knowing eyes and behind her Niccolo who was a sight for sore eyes with his toothy grin.

He wondered if they had become a couple. He thought back to three years ago to their first visit back. Mikasa had been so thin still mourning. He doubted she would ever be a ball of sunshine; she never had been as long as he knew her but she looked well. For his sake though he hoped Niccolo hadn’t made any advances because it would be Connie who would have to deal with Jean's moods. The big oaf thought he was discreet too which was funny especially when Connie continued to play innocent in his slight jabs about the subject of Mikasa.

Connie bowed to the Lord of who cares where and pulled out his arm for Mikasa to hold as he led her to the dance floor. She was a good match; they were equal in height but now that they were older he had finally grown noticeably broader than her.

She looked pretty, well Mikasa had always been pretty although he never dwelled on it but today she was pretty in a way he had never seen her be. Was this a new look for her or simply for the occasion. He asked rather bluntly and she answered in equal sincerity. Although they were so different at the end of the day they were both straight shooters and it reminded him that he simply forgot to miss her as of late the longer they spoke and danced a tension that he didn’t know existed eased within him.

“You are a good dancer… Connie or is it Ambassador Springer.” She pointed out.

He leaned forward with an arched brow. “It’s Connie to you, always.. fair lady.”

They both giggled.

“Where’s -oh I see them.”

Armin was dancing with Historias little daughter making History smile from her overly ornate perch overseeing her guests and Jean was once again spinning some nobleman's niece or merchant's daughter to her heart's delight and to his own vexation.

“Wow. I see that Jeans still a flirt.” Mikasa said offhandedly. He could swear she had pouted for a moment but Mikasa Ackerman did not pout. But then again this Mikasa Ackerman was wearing fashionable clothes with ringlets in her hair.

“He’s just trying to get her dizzy enough to sit down and let him breathe.” Connie shrugged.

Mikasa nodded but her eyes lingered on Jeans figure that retreated and emerged from the crowded dance floor. He would probably be a better dance partner for her but he wouldn’t offer her hand or else he would be ambushed by some other old pompous bastard.

Plus Jean could arrange his own relationships. Confront his own feelings and insecurities. Although maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe they would need a little push. Both of them were too jealous and considerate of the other for their own good. They would go nowhere for too long.

But what did Connie know he was a simpleton after all.

#Jeankasa #fic request #jeankasa fic #thank you for the #ask

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