Safekeeping

The first time he sees her he almost wonders if it is a joke. She is so young, so fragile, that he thinks she cannot be a cadet. Granted, he's had a slew of fifteen-year-olds come through now, but he has long since gotten over the astonishment of such young people being sacrificed up for the military. It wasn't difficult to come around to the idea, considering his own history. But she... she is something else.

"Levi, are you coming?"

He snaps out of the momentary lapse and nods, catching up to Erwin with ease despite the taller man's long stride. If the commander finds anything odd about what had happened, he doesn't mention it.

Levi forgets about her for a time; they'd been there to check out the new recruits, and to speak on behalf of the Survey Corps, not that most of the brats would listen.

It is maybe a year later that he glimpses her again. She is loping through a courtyard, the wings of freedom on her back, and he jolts to a stop to watch.

It seems wrong. There is no way the girl could face down a Titan and come out the victor; she'd be cannon fodder at best. And it is such a waste, because she is perfect.

Perfect.

The word echoes through his mind as he tears his gaze away from her and goes about his day. She is perfect from the soft length of her limbs— the arms he'd seen while she trained under the cool autumn sun, and the shapely legs he made out from a distance— to her finely crafted features. He wonders if she is as perfect close up, if her hands are small and delicate and breakable, if he could wrap a hand around her forearm, if her weight against him would feel—

It's ridiculous. He's getting distracted by a girl he's seen exactly twice, and fleetingly then. He cannot get her out of his head, and he fears it will only get worse unless he addresses at least some of his curiosity. He hasn't felt like this in years, maybe even a decade or more. So Levi keeps an eye out for the pretty thing that has caught his eye.

She's one of Miche's, but she mingles among the other lower enlisted well enough. When he finally manages to catch onto her schedule, he takes his meals at overlapping times as much as he can. Her smile is beautiful, and the bashful expression that sometimes takes over her features does things to him.

He doesn't want to, but he eventually can't help himself, so he asks, "Oi, Miche. Who's the girl sitting by Petra over there? She's one of yours, yeah?"

"Which one?" Miche turns from his conversation and frowns down the way. "You mean the one with her hair in braids?" Levi nods. "Miller, Gilda Miller." A sly glint comes to his pale eyes. "You're not trying to poach her from me, are you? You already got your pick of the litter."

Levi clicks his tongue. "That little thing? No. I was just wondering how she managed to get through training. I figured Shadis would have chewed her up and spit her out the first week."

"You're judging someone based on appearances?" Miche laughs. "You'd be surprised. She's pretty damn smart, and talented in ODM gear. In earlier years she might have broken the top ten," he brags. "I'm surprised she came to us, honestly."

Gilda Miller. He vaguely recalls the name from when he was going through the information of the incoming brats, in the top quarter of the bunch, but he takes only the best.

He digs through files later to find hers. Knowing who she is now, he combs through every line to learn about her. She's young, but not technically a child, which is something, and has only one living family member, a younger brother. Like so many who had joined in recent years, she became homeless when the Titans attacked the walls.

Her records indeed indicated high capabilities in ODM gear, but a slow runner, subpar hand-to-hand fighter, and overall not the strongest physically. However, she was intelligent and well-mannered, eager to please, obedient, and resilient.