Catching Dragonflies
Charlotte Abel, a four year veteran of the Survey Corps was known specifically for two things: her inability to properly use the 3d maneuver gear and near supernatural good luck. When it appears that the new Special Ops squad needs a second captain, all clamber for the chance. But what happens when the inept, albeit good-fortuned, soldier is picked for the position? Levi/OC

Genre: Drama, Horror, and a bit of Romance

Rating: T+ 'cause Levi

Warnings: Spoilers up to Chapter 53.

Chapter 1- Zugzwang

.

.

When I was a child, my mother said I had the personality of a dragonfly.

Always flitting about, preferring the lone company of a grey morning when the streets of Sina were more akin to multicolored gravestones then a pastel, bustling dystopia on a backdrop of eternal blue. She would laugh at my clumsy steps, arms out like diaphanous wings as I steered through the brick pathway, taking momentary pauses to gaze at the world. I'd imagine the sun was cut in hundreds of glowing pieces, splotches of gold beneath my eyelids even when I fell. I had believed her, trusted every word even though I hadn't seen a single dragonfly in my life— believed it just as I believed that every time I fell she would be there to catch me.

"You'll see them someday, Charlotte. I promise." She had whispered, frail, shaking fingers curled in the knitted lapels of her coat. The embroidered silk sheets of her canopy bed moved in time with her breaths as I squeezed her hand tighter, feeling the pulse beneath her wrist weakening to a dull drum.

It was only the first few days of winter, where the dead bark of the oak trees outside matched the color of her eyes, but snow had already begun to pile on the windowsills. The chill that ghosted through the house was only disturbed by our open hearth, red flames crackling distantly. I would realize later that while it wasn't the first time she had made the promise, it would be the last.

She died a week later, just a day short of my twenty-first birthday. I closed her eyes, fingers trembling at the familiar feeling of unnaturally cold skin. The lines of her face seemed to disappear with her breaths. The freckles that had dotted the bridge of her nose (something I inherited as well) had sunken in, appearing more like specks of dirt.

No doctor could explain what exactly ailed her; in Sina, diseases rarely spread. But despite spending most of her days in the manor's elaborate garden, she had died, leaving nothing but her blue hair-clips and a mansion full of strangers. I left immediately the next day with only the hair clips and her coat. It seemed that she had waited to die until she saw me. My squad had been given a few days rest from the last failed expedition outside the walls; I learned from the servants that she had been confined to her bed for months, reading my letters about the world beyond the walls fervently, like they would somehow keep her alive.

I always thought she had died from restlessness; while the walls were a physical manifestation of despotism, the courts and society and pomp of the rich were a lucid example of oppression. Both had crushed her soul, smothered out the light from her eyes before death ever had the chance.

My father was notified of his wife's passing, but he did not return from his orders at the court. He was one of the King's 'royal' dogs, taking full responsibility for the economy of wall Sina. The taxes of both the poor and wealthy lined his pockets, always heavy with gold coins. I imagined it would always be like that, as long as the rich kept their avarice and the poor continued to suffer. He never stayed with us; the only childhood memories I had of him were of huddling at his knees, begging him not to go. He would leave some present or trinket (sweets, a doll, anything to distract me momentarily), deftly prying my fingers from around his legs before disappearing through the doors.

He was always busy, taking the family carriage here and there for meetings and galas. His salt-pepper hair was always combed neatly back as he traversed all three walls in search of more wealth while the coins in his pockets jingled hypocritically. He was the main reason that I decided to join humanity's cause all those years ago.

Because I was worried if he too had the personality of a dragonfly.

"Abel! Abel! Hey, Abel, get the fuck up!" A voice snarled in my ears, low and disapproving.

I felt myself being dragged from the collar of my jacket as I awoke, pulling at the hands on instinct. I was still a bit disoriented, but the familiar sight of green eyes and black hair had me still.

It was just Leo. We were the only surviving members of our original squad when we first entered the Survey Corps. He had ranked seventh in our cadet class while I wouldn't have been surprised if I had ranked last. We were close enough, but I felt that he resented me somewhat for living while his girlfriend, Pia, had died. She had ranked fifth in our cadet class and had all the markings of a great soldier. Her death had caught everyone by surprise; on her first expedition outside the walls she had suddenly froze up at the sight of titans, ultimately leading to her demise. No amount of skill or intelligence mattered when caught in the grip of one of those monsters.

Rising to my feet, I muttered out an apology, ready to go back to the barracks. It had already been three years since my mother's death, but her last breaths haunted me the most, more so then any of my fellow soldiers whom I had watched die, pulled from the sky and swatted down like insignificant bugs. Leo caught my shoulder from behind, a loud sigh escaping his lips.

"I don't know what the hell you did, but Commander Erwin's looking for you."

I blinked, owlish and confused. I had met the blonde commander only about a handful of times since I was always confined to the back of the formation during expeditions. It was honestly a surprise that I hadn't already been eaten, given my placement and skill; I had the lowest kill count of all active (meaning alive) soldiers. With a lowly four kills and seventeen assisted kills despite being in the Survey Corps for four years, I was strictly known as that 'stupidly lucky girl.' While most veterans were treated with some form of respect, I was treated the same as a new recruit, still finding myself at the end of many a prank or joke.

"Are you sure, Leo? Why would he want to see me? Hell, I didn't even think he knew my name." I responded, feeling reflexively for the two cerulean clips in my hair. The cold metal was reassuring as I gave a sigh of relief, letting my hand drop back to my side.

The dark-haired man snorted. "Trust me, I nearly doubled over when I heard he was looking for you. Just go to the Commander's tent; who knows, maybe he wants to take your 3d maneuver gear since you're wasting it."

"Asshole…" I grumbled, knowing that while the words stung, they weren't far from the truth. Supplies were low and if it meant that I had to lose my only standard-issued weapon so someone far better at killing titans could use it, well, I wouldn't be surprised. Slowly, I walked away from the tree I was resting against, giving a curt wave to Leo.

He waved back, showing that he wasn't a complete jerk. He teased me often and had a dirty mouth, but he had saved me from certain death more times than I could count. I trusted him and he trusted me… anywhere besides the field.

I entered the tent with my head held uncharacteristically high, placing myself just at the foot of the oak desk where a series of maps and charts rested. I gave the salute of humanity, the heels of my boots clicking together.

"You wished to see me, Commander Erwin?"

The blonde man nodded, cold eyes trained to my face. I felt myself begin to sweat under the scrutiny of the now one-armed man and the silent person beside him. The dark-haired soldier scoffed, folding his arms. I knew immediately who he was; the grey eyes, neatly brushed hair and white cravat spoke of only one person: humanity's greatest hope, Captain Levi. Suddenly the small tent seemed infinitely smaller, cramped between arguably the best soldier and the best strategist alive. And here I was, with a kill count I could show with a single hand. My brave façade easily crumbled at his next words.

"Your name, kill count, and years of service." Levi commanded, voice leaving no room for argument.

Gulping, I responded curtly, "Charlotte Abel. Four solo kills and seventeen assisted kills. I've been with the Survey Corps for four years… sir." I added quickly, mentally berating myself for nearly skipping out on the formality. I had hung around the other Recon members for too long; it was hard to believe that there had been a time where I struggled to even add slang words into my speech.

"Your accent… where are you from?" He questioned again, as if he had ignored my answers entirely.

"W-wall Sina, sir." Growing up inside the safest district, I was taught by my private tutors to speak like those of royalty. I guess it still showed, even now.

He turned to Erwin, dark eyes narrowing. "I don't like this."

"You don't have to. Abel, your father manages the flow of money in and out of wall Sina as a banker of sorts?"

I nodded dumbly. Just where were they going with this?

"He is trusted by the King?"

I nodded again.

Slowly, a smile formed on the blonde's face. I shivered; it wasn't a warm, happy smile. It was the smile of a predator cornering its prey.

"We are in need of your assistance. You've heard of the Special Operations Squad, correct?"

"Yes, it's on the lips of every soldier." It would have been a feat to not hear about it. Rumors had begun to swirl around the barracks that the Commander was looking for another person to lead the team. As such, the soldiers were abuzz doing extra work, all clambering for the chance to become an important figure in the Survey Corps. People were trying to outmatch each other on expeditions, favors were done specifically for Erwin to see, and all tried to act with as much pride and skill as possible. I hadn't been particularly privy to indulging in thoughts of leadership and power; gossip was common and ugly all around the courts in Sina, and coupled with my own inability to utilize 3d maneuver gear, my chances were rather non-existent.

"I would like to offer you a position besides Levi as a leader of the Special Ops. We have a few… objectives that would be more easily reached with someone used to the rules and pomp of the courts." Erwin explained.

At that moment Levi slipped past me, pushing open the tent flap with a few stinging words, "I don't care if she's the daughter of the king. I'm not putting the safety of the brats in the hands of a woman who couldn't kill a blind titan."

"Levi—" The cobalt-eyed man started, but the captain was gone. I stood nervously at the other side of the table, hands balled into fists.

It wasn't like I wanted to be this useless! I had watched plenty of people I cared about die in front of my eyes while I didn't have the skill or initiative to do anything. I was a coward through and through; the real reason I had survived so long in the Survey Corps was due to my own selfishness, not some supernatural good luck. I didn't deserve to wear the wings of freedom.

I must have made some noise of discomfort as before I knew it, Erwin Smith was clearing the charts and maps from the table, replacing them with a chess set. He gave a softer smile this time, although it didn't reach his eyes.

"I've been told that you can learn a lot from a person by how they play chess. Please, play a round." He motioned to the free chair across the table, slowly taking the seat opposite of it. I hesitantly sat down, noticing that I had been given the black pieces.

"White moves first." I noted, brushing back a few stray taupe locks behind my ear. I waited for the man to make a move. Although, it really didn't matter. He had already put me into Zugzwang. No matter how this chess game ended, I would be forced to help with his plans; he was just giving me the illusion of choice.

.

.

In the end, I did lose.

A/N: I know that OC stories aren't everyone's cup of tea (hell, they aren't normally mine either), but I do appreciate that you've taken the time to check my story out. Any suggestions, critiques, questions, of general thoughts on the story so far would be greatly appreciated :3 Thanks!

Zugzwang in chess is a term where you've basically been cornered by your opponent and no matter what you do, you will ultimately lose.

And yes, in case the weird timeline jumpy thing didn't make sense, Charlotte is twenty-four, meaning she joined the Survey Corps at twenty, and was originally a cadet at seventeen (lol, she was a bit late) ^^'

Review?

-Isis