Birdie (Levi x OC)

two

I was back in my Garrison room in the quiet early evening, packing after my transfer was finalized. The barracks were quiet, the heavy silence of the off-hours already settling in, but underneath it, I heard the faint clatter of horses in the stables. A familiar, decisive knock sounded on my door. Only one person visited me unannounced this late.

"Come in," I called.

Commander Pixis entered, his eyes immediately assessing my half-packed suitcase, which already strained against its seams.

"Hey, Commander," I offered, managing a soft smile.

"I assume all went well today?"

"You're now looking at a full-fledged member of the Survey Corps," I said, the slight laugh feeling fragile.

He frowned. "Just please be safe, Birdie."

I wrapped my arms around him. He was scared, and the survival rate for new recruits was a silent, grim truth between us.

"Don't worry, old man," I reassured him. "The Pixis bloodline is tough. I'll be just fine. Besides, I'm more useful to humanity beyond this wall."

He looked at me; part admiration, part doubt.

"Get some rest, my girl. I'll see you off in the morning." He softly kissed the top of my head and turned away.

My grandfather was my everything. After my mother's passing, my father became a useless drunk. Pixis took me in, fostering my military career and, more importantly, supporting my obsession: engineering, inventing, and improving weaponry.

After the fall of Wall Maria, when I was seventeen, my desire to destroy the Titans and fortify humanity intensified. For five years, I was confined to defensive work—reinforcing the walls and optimizing cannons. But I knew I could do more. My head was full of ambitious designs, but the Garrison lacked the resources and the vision to build them. They wanted maintenance; I wanted innovation.

Sighing, I rolled up my sleeves to finish. My technical blueprints and journals, the real reason for the suitcase's weight, were the first items I secured. Once finished, I crawled into bed. My gaze fixed on the ceiling, my mind already solving logistics. Erwin needs traps for intelligent targets. Tomorrow, I finally get to build them.

~

The next morning, I took my time getting ready. I brushed out my long, unruly blonde hair, braiding it back to keep it functional, and changed into a clean uniform. I checked my reflection quickly; my sharp features were dominated by my large eyes, hazel but looking almost gold in the light, which felt too exposed. I focused on looking presentable for my new squad.

I pinched my cheeks for color and gave myself a final, steadying look. "It'll have to do," I murmured, grabbing my suitcase and heading out.

My grandfather waited outside the Garrison Headquarters with a prepared carriage. He took my luggage and placed it inside.

"Remember to be safe, Birdie," he said, "And try not to annoy that head-strong fool, Erwin, too much."

"I'll try not too," I smiled.

With a final hug, I stepped into the carriage bound for the Survey Corps. Leaving the Garrison wasn't difficult. My squad mates were quiet and focused, and none had resisted my decision to volunteer. They seemed relieved to be spared the choice.

The ride was long, the carriage wheels rumbling over cobblestone then transitioning to a quieter, dirt lane. We passed through familiar districts, but the scenery quickly became less commercial, giving way to high walls. The rhythmic jostle was hypnotic, and I spent the transit deep in thought regarding my new career path. The headquarters felt increasingly isolated, even within the city limits; a necessary solitude for a group that dealt exclusively with the threats beyond the wall.