#ch. Gajeel

[cosmicfates]

@stella-ignis-rosea for no reason other than 'can'

"Ya know what? I ain't dealin' with yer nonsense. Ya can call me 'uncle' if ya want, but yer a pain in the ass,"

He's just looking at the Kitsune Itto adopted. The one who KEPT getting into his store of chocolate. He was going to tie him up if the other Yokai wasn't careful. Ruby red eyes would narrow at the smaller male.

"And leave the Onikabuto cages ALONE dammit!"

[everyonehappy]

everyone wears some sort of khaki motif while Happy is in polka dots

[everyjuvia]

contrary to their typical appearance, out of the ex-Phantom Lord duo, Juvia must be the one into more hardcore music since Gajeel's getup later on looks more jazz-y

[ironmake]

tags. part one 𝓡.| 【 】

[kiliinstinct]

Chapter 30

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] Happy Birthday to me! Here's an Update! Remember to thank @phoenix-before-the-flame for their Beta work! * April Post Date: 16th As you can see, there will be only one post next month due to me taking part in Camp Nanowrimo. (Similar to Nanowrimo but shorter.) Two chapter posting will continue in May. Those Dates will Appear on the Next Update.

Gajeel knew they were coming.

Before morning hit, he expected the hurried steps and smell of angry magic tickling his nose. He would have been disappointed otherwise.

Laying in his cot with one leg over the other, he affected the perfect air of calm indifference, holding back a snort. Honestly, who in their right mind wouldn't come running after his little stunt? Getting loose was one thing, but sniffing out one of the fairy’s dragons and cornering him in his own home? Gajeel was surprised they hadn’t come sooner.

The door to his cell swung open, revealing the chief all but vibrating in waves of magical power. Sweeping through the small room, the pressure of his power rattled the cot beneath him. He resisted the shiver that traveled down his spine while gooseflesh pricked along his skin. Obstinately, he met the old man’s venomous stare with an arched brow, feigning unconcern. 

He couldn't react. Not yet. 

Whistling low, he pulled a grin that made his visitor’s eye twitch. A fact that brought him satisfaction as he noted the scents of others crowding the hallway. Good, so he wasn't arrogant enough to think he could handle a possible threat alone. Gajeel could respect that at least. 

”Damn is this how ya' greet people in the morning?“ He asked innocently, ”if Kage pissed himself, I’m laughin’ til my lungs give out.“

”I don’t appreciate lying, boy.“ Makarov accused without preamble; His magic strengthened, flowing around the room like an ominous wind, shaking dust from the rafters as bits of broken stone rattled against the floor. 

”I ain't lied since I got here.“ He replied, grin widening, ”something wrong?“

Makarov’s eyes narrowed as another wave of magic emanated from his body. It swept across the building and the fortress shuddered and creaked in its wake. Stepping inside, the rising pressure almost stole Gajeel’s breath.  He leapt to his feet as the old cot groaned, legs giving way under the power being exerted as it collapsed to splintered boards.

This was more than a show of power; This was a threat.

Instinct and common sense told Gajeel to make a break for it, but he held his ground, digging his sharpened nails into his crossed arms. He stood straight. Too straight. The old chief stood before him with a presence that belied his age and size. If he noticed how stiff the metal draconis became, with pupils blown unnaturally wide, he remained silent.

“You tell me,” The old man hissed.  “You seem to be under the impression that you are a guest of some sort. The chains may be gone but you know as well as I that you forfeited your freedom the moment you came within these walls.” 

A crack split the stone beneath the window behind Gajeel, neither paid it any mind. Makarov continued fiercely, “ You seemed a smart enough man to understand that. And yet you took it upon yourself to slip away, stalking through the streets of my home like some sort of animal. Tracking down Lucy-”

”Calm down, old man, I ain't interested in the blondie! I told you that already!“ Gajeel retorted, swallowing thickly as the chief's magic sought to overpower him.

“ I’m here for the other one you got hangin’ outside there like a dog on a leash.” Gajeel said, catching an answering snarl to his barb. A glimpse of pink flashed before the entryway before multiple sets of arms drew him back. Underneath the shimmering pressure coming from Makarov appeared a touch of heat. It took to the air in a haze, molding with the immense pressure.

He recognized it immediately, smirking as his gaze peered through the doorway, “The pink brat’s important. Not his girl.”

”And what? Breaking free to harass him is your idea of a formal meeting?! That was outside of our agreed terms and you-”

“Agreed what?!” 

Fire sparked to life just beyond Gajeel’s sight as the voices of many yelped in surprise. Their restraining hands fell away as Natsu stormed in, fists ablaze with unbridled fury. “You WANTED us to meet?“

”Natsu! I did not give the command to-“

He wouldn't hear any of it, “No! You acted like you knew nothing about what he wanted from me! and all along you were lying-”

Oh Gajeel was enjoying this- the thrum of pressure lessened and his posture relaxed considerably “Not the smartest move there, Gramps, now was it?”

Natsu turned his glare on Gajeel, yellow bleeding through those dark irises as scales pricked along the edges of his eyes. He spied the hints of darkness that speckled through the orange flames billowing from Natsu’ skin. That’s all it took? Laughter burst forth with no resistance, too pleased by the situation.

“Well well, if it ain’t the man of the hour.” Gajeel greeted with a sneer, “Didn’t take you for a snitch considering…” He let the sentence hang unfinished in the air, innocently tilting his head at the other despite the murderous intent rising in the room.

Snarling, the fiery draconis stepped forward, but Makarov threw out a hand to block his path.

“Enough!” Makarov shouted, fixing him with a stern glare that stopped him in his tracks. “Stay put and silent. As for the rest of you-,” He waited for Lisanna, Levy and Freed to poke their heads through the doorway, both girls looking far more sheepish than the other, “Get in here and get him under control. There's no point in standing by if this fool decides to start causing a scene.”

“I'm not a fo-!”

“Natsu.” His voice rumbled with the force of his power,“I said enough.”

His mouth shut instantly with the blaze of his flames receding just enough to make the temperature bearable. Hatred burned in his now amber eyes, refusing to take them off the metal draconis while the others filtered in. Warily they stood behind Natsu, apprehensively eyeing Gajeel. Paying Natsu no mind, he turned his attention to the others, taking a quick assessment.

Nothing impressive to look at. The group didn’t look like wranglers of any sort, but the white haired girl held herself strong and ready by Natsu’s side. She was poised to grab him at a moment's notice. The other two… blue and green haired mages that reeked of ink, stood by her side. The taller man rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, just as ready and the shortest one appeared nervous, bravely holding her hands in a curious manner, eyes wildly flicking about the room. A caster perhaps?

His eyes narrowed as the last two scents finally answered his unasked questions. These were the fabled barrier makers keeping Kage in check. He’d have trouble with them if things went south.

Makarov cracked his back with a groan, ignoring Gajeel’s snickering. He rubbed his temples in exasperation. “Now then,” he muttered, “You need to explain yourself. Now.”

The Draconis hadn’t moved since the chief’s command, but his body trembled from adrenaline coursing through him. Every second, another scale dotted his skin red, peeking through pieces of bandage that still covered his many wounds. Gajeel watched the smoke that rose from his body with a mild interest.

And then he bared his teeth in return, mocking a snarl.

“Enough about me. Let’s talk about him for a bit.” He stated, cracking his knuckles as he matched Natsu's gaze. Neither blinked, one growing more agitated while the other remained irritatingly calm.

“Now I know you fairies can get emotional, but you wanna explain why he’s about ready to pop? Don’t tell me you couldn’t get that lil temper of yours under control after all this time away from home.” 

What little flame was left on Natsu’s person burst back into life, now more black than red, proving Gajeels’ point. He took a menacing stop closer, fingers flexing with sharp claws glinting in the light. The Chief stretched out his arms and shouted a warning, holding Lisanna off from charging her own magic. She nodded, but remained poised, with shimmering silver crawling up her arms in a brilliant web.

Natsu didn't notice, too distracted by Gajeel while he hissed steam, ”Wanna say that again you son of a-“

”And that.“ Gajeel said pointedly, snapping his fingers, ”Had to see it myself to make sure. Did you suckers really think black flames are normal?” 

His snarl cut off as he blinked owlishly, nervousness filtered into those wide eyes. His magic still flared, casting shadows to all corners of the room. But the others took note of the streaks of oranges and reds slowly breaking through.

“Plenty of us noticed. He's always been like this,“ Makarov admitted, mustache twitching as he frowned, ”Black fire is as natural to him as breathing. Though it seems to flare when his temper has reached its limit.”

”... umm,“ Levy chimed in, uncertainty pulling at her features as she nervously stepped back. Freed placed a calming hand on her shoulder and she nodded, digging her heels into the floor and inhaling deeply to soothe her nerves, ”We have other fire wielders here, they use purple flames. And though I’ve never seen it personally, our traveling group has encountered people who use flames of all colors. Black isn’t so strange, is it?“

”You really got ‘em tricked good haven’t you flamehead?” Gajeel scoffed, waving off her question, but considered her words regardless. Storing the new information in the back of his mind he motioned towards Natsu again. “Get it outta your heads from now that draconis fire is anything close to what normal fire magic is.”

 He pondered his next words carefully.

“I’ll let ya in on a clan secret.” He continued gleefully, ignoring Natsu’s growl of warning.  “Despite what he’s made you think, black fire ain’t exactly common back home. Rarer than rare. No run of the mill fire draconis could make those flames unless they were-”

“SHUT UP!”

Fire spilled from his mouth as he shoved his way past Makarov, ignoring the old man’s shouts to stand down. Up close Gajeel could see the glow of flames gathered in his throat, even through the heavy bandaging, ready to let loose on a man who was saying too much. 

Freed unsheathed his sword, purple runes rising forth from the blade as sweat beaded on his brow from the sweltering heat.  “Makarov,” He began tremulously, “I think it would be prudent to-”

“Shut up.” Natsu snapped in a startling voice that sounded closer to beast than man. He could barely be seen behind the thick dark flames that swirled violently around him. Only the brightness of amber eyes shone through with more fear than rage.“Whoever this bastard is, he needs to shut the fuck up before I rip out his fucking throat-”

Gajeel cocked his head to the side and chuckled. For all the blustering and the threats, he  didn’t call upon his own scales to meet the call to fight. He took the brunt of the black flames unprotected, unblinking at the heat scorching his skin. The others couldn’t see it beneath the cloak of flames he used like armor. But Gajeel could see everything. Only his eyes were strong enough to pierce through the head and see how Natsu’s body trembled. 

He smirked. He had him cornered. Like a desperate animal. And Gajeel wasn’t afraid of animals.

”What's wrong, hothead? Don’t want me to let something slip? They’re your clan after all. They have a right to know about you. S’not right to keep family in the dark-”

”I'm warning you to shut up right-!“

Gajeel bent to meet him at eye level. His voice rose mockingly above Natsu’s and everyone clearly heard over the roar of his flames.

 “-You know exactly why I'm here, don't you, Prince?”

Outside the rumbling keep, Lucy held herself tightly, enthralled by the stranger she’d met. Erza stood by in silence, listening fondly as the two celestial roma spoke. Lucy was eager to know of the state of the other clans and Jellal was more than happy to share what he knew. All were blissfully unaware of the state of things beyond Jellal’s holding.

“So they're…..all safe?” She asked, eyes wide and watery in relief, “No others were attacked?”

“You knew of the ones before your clan began its North-bound trek,” He replied, lounging easily in his chair with a hand resting light atop hers. They'd begun their chat in earnest once Lucy gained control of her emotions enough to stop crying. Now she sat upon the edge of his bed, restlessly fidgeting. Her grip in his was tight as steel in an attempt to ground herself. It was hard to accept the reality; She truly wasn't the only one left after all.

Jellal continued with a faint smile,  “I can attest that the other branches made it past the mountain ranges to our haven. Only stragglers like myself ran into issues.”

“I still can't believe Erza knew you all along,” Lucy looked back at the redhead, “Why didn't you mention earlier?”

She coughed into her hand, cheeks turning red at the attention suddenly turning to her, “my excursions outside of the clan I like to keep private unless I feel it necessary to share. That being said, I wasn't sure if he was alive or not and didn't wish to give you false hope.”

This was enough to appease Lucy, who tilted her head right back to Jellal excitedly, “and you weren't hurt too much, were you?”

He didn't bother hiding the truth, ”No, I was not. Jose and his men were not pleasant by any means, but they wanted to keep me alive. …  I'm certain they want the same with you, as well.“

That was a quick dampener to the mood as Lucy's hand twitched. Her mouth twisted into a grimace and she wavered between keeping her own counsel and asking more questions.

Makarov had kept most of it secret from her, giving her just enough information to mildly satiate her curiosity, but it wasn’t enough. Here, however, was a man of her own blood who could explain everything.

”... is Makarov aware I'm talking to him?“ She asked, curious how much the chief was aware she had found another way to the truth.

A guilty silence from Erza was her answer. Looking to the wall, she fiddled with the straps of her bracer. That was all Lucy needed. For once he was in the dark and Lucy had all the answers laid bare before her, and she hungered for the truth.

Perhaps this could be considered a breach of trust. One that Lucy was unsure if she should take. However... looking at the bruises that dotted Jellal's arm and thinking back to the attacks that began all because she was with them, she couldn't remain in the dark much longer.

“... Was it any celestial,” She asked, voice low, “Or just me? Were they responsible for my Parents-“

She was silenced before the line of questioning could continue as Jellal rested his other hand on her shoulder, sighing. ”I wanted to verify that for myself. And I'm unsure if you'll like what you may hear.“

“Please,” she urged, “I need to know.”

He released her hand and slid from his chair, gaze turning to Erza for a second as he contemplated his next words. Whatever he read in her expression was enough for him to make up his mind. Looking down at the determined Romni, he motioned to the book he'd left shut at the table.

“That you do. But not yet. I think it best I have a meeting with the Chief first to discuss the stirrings I've seen out there,” he decided, dropping to his knees to kneel before her, “but as a fellow Celestial, I promise I will tell you everything you wish to know afterwards. It may not be ideal, but can you accept these terms?”

It wasn't what she wanted to hear and while her shoulders sagged in disappointment, her mind spun with possibilities. Promises were important. No Roma of the celestial blood would dare break one if made. This was it. Her heart pounded at the thought.

She just needed to wait a little bit more.

“Is ... there anything else you can tell me, then?” She asked instead. 

His visible relief melted the weight in the room as he looked to her injured leg. The old wound was hidden from him but he spied thin golden strings wrapped gently around her knee, undisturbed in their workings as they hummed with a magic no different from his own.

“Erza may have let it slip that you had issues reclaiming your power.” Humor filled his voice. ”Though there are some differences, I know our teachings have some similarities. Perhaps I can assist?“ 

Her smile grew so large she felt it would freeze into place, never to change again. ”I would like that.“

And assisted her, he did. He told her things about their abilities: the way the night enhanced them, how to mold the light of the stars to their bidding. Lucy was a natural, he told her, observing her knee with a keen interest. While the current effects did their job well, the efficiency was lost to inexperience, something he expertly talked her through with a guiding hand and patient voice.

Fragmented memories came to the surface with every word. Memories Lucy once refused to let surface. They trickled thoughts of a family long lost, but the old pain from her grief didn’t join them. She watched in awe as Jellal instructed her, hanging onto his every word and practiced motion. The familiarity of it all almost pushed her to tears again.

Erza watched in amusement as Lucy keenly absorbed everything he said. As the minutes passed by she took to the floor, withdrawing a rag and oil from a pouch on her belt to lathe over the length of her blade in delicate strokes. She was as patient as Lucy's teacher and would continue to watch and listen as Lucy relearned her abilities anew.

She was giddy, watching as the magic pooled in her palms and glimmered, casting a warm, yellow glow upon her skin. It was basic: a brief lesson of control that she once did as a child under a parent’s guiding hand. But to do it again without fatigue or pain clouding her mind left her childishly happy.

Jellal eased his weight back into his chair, fondly watching Lucy’s growing excitement. Her eyes glowed from the magic within, widening as a coo left her lips as she observed the swirling depths of her magic. She was, quite literally, starry eyed and her happiness pulled at his heart. To think that something so simple brought her so much joy, he couldn’t imagine the grief it caused to have her magic locked away.

He hummed and looked to the ceiling, eyes glazing over in thought as if he was watching the sky rather than the aged wood above.

Reaching a decision, he snapped a finger and grabbed a candle off the table.

“Lucy,” He asked, holding it aloft between them. The flickering light grabbed her attention as she curiously waited, “What is your experience with talking to the stars?”

Oh. This lit a light inside her mind, eyebrows rising into her hair. “I wasn't allowed to as a child. Even when I was older it was still something kept from me.  But I've made ... attempts.”

“Even if you didn’t participate, did you watch anyone in your family do it?” 

She shook her head, “I was always sent off to bed before they began.”

At the dubious stare he gave her she quickly amended, “I mean, I tried to sneak peeks. Of course I did, but they always seemed to just know and shoved me back off to bed before I could witness anything.They must’ve had their reasons so I eventually figured not to question them.”

He noted her admittance with a tilt of his head. “How odd. Are you aware of the meditations involved at least?”

When her eyes lost focus, attention leaning towards a speck on the wall, he followed with the candle flame, “I admit, it's much easier at night, but we can practice now all the same. Sometimes the stars speak regardless.”

Attention regained, Lucy flushed prettily and the magic in her palms dimmed with her embarrassment, “Is that what I've been doing wrong?”

“Hmm?” He prompted, settling the candle back down. He reached for a pack of matches, striking one to life as he moved to light a second one.

Well now she just felt silly, ”I can’t recall if I heard them as a child, but within the past year I’ve heard them without trying anything. They were just these voices either whispering nonsense into my head or shouting loud enough to give me migraines for hours on end. I've tried to reach out to them, but I suppose without knowing the proper ways I've never been able to instigate it.“

The match he was using to light a third candle dropped from his fingers, snuffing itself out as it clattered to the floor. 

His eyes narrowed, his tattoo beneath his eye crinkled as his brows drew close together in suspicion. Gone was her patient teacher, replaced instead with a sudden interrogator. Even Erza glanced up at his change in tone.

”... you've heard them?“ He repeated with a mystified air, ”no meditation? No prompting? Just... voices?“

She felt very insecure under his cold gaze.  Her magic faded beneath her skin and she shrunk in on herself. Her arms fell to her lap to fidget with her skirt. ”.....am I not supposed to?“ 

Had she just admitted to being absolutely crazy?

“No, no , please, I apologize,” setting the candles aside, he quickly moved to brace her shoulders, expression wide in surprise, “I didn't mean to offend you, it's just…” He gnawed at his lip, “.... not how we normally do things. In fact, I've only heard of one occasion it was done in such a manner and that was-”

He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, “Nevermind you mind that. Perhaps I'm over thinking it and it's just a sign of you needing to regain control of your abilities. Meditation can help with that.”

Lucy bit her lip as she observed him. He was avoiding her gaze, looking everywhere but her. Sometimes his eyes flickered occasionally back to the aged book. Erza stopped wiping down her blade, eyeing the two of them with intense scrutiny. Her gaze practically drilled a hole into Jellal's stiff back.

“You promised to be truthful with me.” Lucy said blankly. He flinched at her accusation, pulling his hands from her shoulders. Guiltily he ran a light finger over his wounded wrists.

“I did.” 

His emotions played out on his face- the confusion, the concern and the briefest hint of clarity before he steeled himself. Donning a placid mask, he spoke again. He cut Lucy off before she had the chance to protest. 

 "Our promise is not broken,“ He admitted, once again reaching for the candles, ”That I can assure you.  But I may need to speak with your chief sooner than I expected. I’ll have to inform him of this immediately.”

“Informed of what?” Lucy dug. Erza rose to her feet in a clank of heavy metal, worriedly looking at Lucy then casting a suspicious eye at her friend. “ What are you talking about?”

“At least tell me this much.” Lucy begged. She wanted to know, before following anything else, she HAD to know.

Jellal sighed and lowered his gaze, blue fringe of hair blocking his expression further, ”... That perhaps, Jose was on the right track. That you may be the one Celestial none of our kind would ever want him to get his hands on.”

He gripped his hands tightly, mirroring Lucy as the world seemed to fall out from under them. She. she had to know more! But from the look on Jellal’s face said the discussion was already closed. He wouldn’t tell her. 

Not yet at least. 

---

All Natsu felt was rage when he came to. The ghost of a snarl rested on his tongue as his instincts sparked back to life.

He wanted to burn something. No, someone.

That other draconis just wouldn’t stop talking. Every word he uttered in that grating voice of his was deliberate, carefully chosen to dig under his skin and set his blood to a boil. It had driven Natsu closer to the edge beyond the realm of reason. 

He had no right to even be here. A stranger with a self assured sneer standing freely in Natsu’s home, looking down on him without a care. He had no right to live after that awful word fell from his lips. Natsu screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memory to no avail, it echoed in his mind. 

Prince. 

He vividly recalled the look of sly victory that settled in the man’s piercing red eyes. He didn’t bother to keep his gaze on Natsu when the title spilled from his lips. Instead, his gaze settled on those behind Natsu. He couldn’t see their bewildered faces as they looked to him for confirmation. For the truth.

He only saw red bleeding away to darkness as the world closed in on him. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, louder than the blood rushing through his ears. It drowned out his only frantic thought- 'They can't know. No one can know, stop him, shut him up, shut him up shut hi- NOW.'

The fires around him swirled like a cacophonous tornado. Any hint of red in its depths was stolen by the black flames pounding at the walls. Gajeel stood arrogantly, unperturbed even as the raging wildfire licked at his skin. The cracking of stone walls under the blast and the groaning of the abused ceiling above were sounds lost to the fury inside his heart. The incessant screams and desperate cries for him to calm down were barely registered, as the others fought to regain his attention over the one word that repeated in his mind over and over again.

He lunged and the room erupted in frantic shouts.

 Freed flung himself before Levy and Lisanna, swiping his sword in an arc that sent a line of runes across the floor, protecting Gajeel.  It lasted mere seconds against the onslaught before it crumbled under the flames. Pressure dropped to nothing as Makarov grew in size, magic swelled around as he shoved the others out the door. Grasping the burning draconis with an oversized hand, he held the feral draconis back with a power the keep could barely contain.

Power ballooned in his chest, forcing its way up his throat. He dug his claws into Makarov’s seared skin, all sense of himself lost.

Everything went dark after that. While Natsu blinked at the ceiling, clarity returned to him slowly, allowing him to pick up the pieces of his actions and realize his location was different. He wasn’t in Gajeel’s cell anymore.

What... just happened? 

He knew this room and knew it well. It was a side room in the keep that Makarov often snuck off to for short naps. The old man’s light scent on the sheets was strong evidence to that. He blinked again when he caught Freed and Levy’s scents as well despite the silent room being void of anyone else.

Straining to move, Natsu grunted in surprise. He realized with horror that he couldn’t. And it wasn’t the weariness deep in his bones that stopped him. He struggled to bend his neck, finding himself covered in runic spells, shifting lines of words he couldn’t read. They bound his wrists and ankles. Now wonder he could smell the two Rune Enchanters . It was their handiwork.

But why? How did he even get here?

”Finally back to your senses are you?“ Makarov’s voice echoed from behind and Natsu craned his head back as far as he could to catch a glimpse of the Chief sitting on the floor with arms and legs crossed, almost as if he’d been dozing for quite some time. 

The world swam in and out of focus for Natsu, he couldn't make heads or tails or what was going on. Why was he being held down? His growl of frustration was pointed towards Makarov as he strained against the runes binding him. They didn’t dig at his skin. In fact he barely felt their presence save for a light buzz of magic, but they were unbending against his struggle and he was too drained of his strength to give it his all.

Prince, the word echoed in his head once more and a panic began to settle into his bones. 

They- they knew. They heard Gajeel’s admittance of a secret he had long since buried with his past. He stared at Makarov wide eyed, the old man stayed still as a statue, eying Natsu critically. Dread soured the air as Natsu gasped in shaky breaths.

They had him tied up for it. 

Why else would they tie him down if not to do something with that information? A surge of betrayal stole his breath even as logic desperately screamed against it. This was his family now, they would never-

“What's going on?” He rasped, breaking free of his turbulent thoughts, “why can't I move?”

”Good, you're definitely more lucid than you were thirty minutes ago,“ Makarov rose from his seat with a low groan, unusually hunched in his posture as he hobbled over to Natsu’s side. His tired eyes keenly swept over the draconis as he let the question go ignored for the moment.  ”I was worried about you for a bit there.“

Relieved to take the strain off his neck, the draconis followed his chief's steps in rapt attention.

He was never one to ignore a question. Take frustratingly long to answer as he sought the right words? Yes. The chief was a man of patience, something he often butted heads with the fiery draconis over as he seemed to have none. But Natsu was wise enough in this moment to not demand speedier answers. Not when he couldn’t move. 

But the question bubbled in his chest, burned the tip of his tongue and refused to be quashed down. It died on his tongue only when Makarov stumbled, gritting his teeth to quiet the pained hiss that left him.

Gramps was wounded? How? Who- he struggled to sit up again, desperately trying to reach the old man’s side to help him. His thrashing was cut short by the chief laying a hand against his chest, giving a firm pressure to hold him down.

“None of that,” He chided, “I'm better now that you’re awake. Wendy has already had a look and Porylusica will be double checking later. I'd rather talk about you.”

“But-” he tried to remember on his own, what exactly happened during his outburst, who could have- the only conclusion he could figure sharpened his features in a barely concealed rage, “Did that draconis-”

“No,” interrupted Makarov, fingers flexing on Natsu's chest. “. Gajeel has not laid a finger on me. In fact, if not for him, everything would have gone much worse.”

Gajeel …? The name sounded oddly familiar to him but he couldn’t ruminate on it further as the master’s words only served to confuse Natsu, “He's the one who snuck around and said all that- what do you mean thanks to him?“

”... I almost think it's better for you to see for yourself,“ Makarov muttered more to himself than to Natsu but negated the idea immediately, ”no, perhaps not. Not in your condition. Who knows what it would do to you to know the truth so quickly.“

The truth? 

The truth?

Already his earlier ire was starting to rise again, simmering under his skin as heat swelled and smoke started to leak from his nose, ”This ain't making any sense! Can't you just-“

Makarov continued in his inspection, silently ignoring Natsu’s outburst. He examined the magic bindings on the draconis' body and clicked his tongue at the growing singe marks on the sheets. Wordlessly he shot Natsu a look that demanded his silence.

The stony intensity in his eyes cut Natsu off immediately, “I can’t just proceed further without caution! This situation has fallen from my grasp without my knowing! And you especially my boy! I cannot just-!” 

He sucked in a breath to steady his nerves. Natsu could hear the frantic beat of Makarov's heart hammering away in his chest and the old man wobbled on his feet. Natsu whined, “ Gramps please.”

 His shoulders fell in defeat and his other hand found its way to rest atop Natsu’s crown. A calming gesture. But if it was to calm one or the other, Natsu couldn’t tell. “...Before I explain anything, I need you to promise me not to blame yourself.” He continued in a low voice. “In fact, I need you to mentally prepare yourself to remain as calm as you can manage. I won't say anything further until you prove to me you can do that.”

How could he-? ”I can't just not feel things!“ Natsu protested.

”Promise me!“ Makarov's voice was a harsh whisper, bordering on pleading, ”My boy, it is alright to feel, but you mustn't 'react'! Do you understand?“

His desperate plea froze Natsu in place, staring wide eyed at Makarov’s face. At that moment,  he reminded Natsu of another man he wanted to forget. A man who never shied away from his fire even as it was thrown around in frustrated bouts that burned the area around him. 

It was safe then, screaming his rage in a room designed to contain his outbursts til he grew weary. And a comforting arm would wrap itself around his shoulders. Warm eyes that always beheld him with quiet pride would meet him at eye level, accompanied by whispered instructions that held no fear. No judgement.

'My son... it is alright to be angry; to feel it and express it, but you must not react. You must control yourself. Can you do that for me?' 

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and Natsu forced the memory out, nodding vigorously to his chief. “I'll... I'll try.”

Makarov waited in silence for a few seconds, watching as Natsu closed his eyes and took in deep breaths. Allowing his body to relax against the sheets, the burning embers of his body simmered and the smoke dispersed. It was hard to dampen his own inner flame, but with a few more breaths, he managed.

Makarov sighed in relief, “Good. Now keep it tethered. I’ve always known you to have a temper on you but I see now why Gajeel treated your outbursts as abnormal. I don't appreciate him purposefully baiting you. That man took too much pleasure in the barbs he threw at you, but I believe, I think this is something we all needed to see.”

His grip on Natsu’s chest tightened. “Your black fire has always been a point of interest, but never one of danger. It’s become so rare in these past years I'd almost forgotten it. But today…..This level of anger and hatred…. I’ve not seen anything like this from you before; The reports Laxus and Cana gave of your fight with Kage, today's instance hardly compares….. I’m worried for you.”

Today?

What did he mean by…?

Makarov patiently waited for him to connect the dots. He was often like this, giving others the chance to find the truth at their own pace instead of thrusting it on them all at once. But nothing made sense.

Gajeel wasn’t at fault for what Natsu could barely recall no matter how hard he tried. It made him feel light headed as he fought to piece together all that was laid out for him . Annoyance started to take hold. He inhaled deeply to steady his slipping nerves and almost choked on it when a familiar scent coated his tongue. 

The muted scent of charred flesh, burnt black beyond recognition. It wrapped Makarov as he stared down at Natsu, forlorn, waiting for it to click. He didn’t need to see to know how bad the injury was and the truth struck his chest like a pile of rubble crushing his bones. 

Natsu didn't always put things together as fast as the others, but this wasn't something that flew over his head, “... it was me….?”

No. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He searched Makarov’s grim expression for something that said otherwise but woefully found nothing of the sort. 

The limp, his restraints…. The hand on his chest, how didn’t he notice the burns that marred Makarov’s fingers sooner? Panic seized him.

“What did I do?!” Natsu’s terror threatened to choke him. He vaguely recalled Makarov’s order to stay calm but control was slipping from him again as fear sank its claws into his frazzled brain. ”Where are the others?! Did I-“

”No,“ Makarov chided gently as he moved to rest his hand against Natsu's forehead, ”Freed moved quick enough to protect the others from the initial blast while I held you down, but the explosion was bigger than any of us could’ve imagined. If not for Gajeel knocking you out, the Keep may have been lost. I had guessed his affinity with metal, but to see an entire arm turn into it was something else entirely.“

Natsu wished he could do something instead of just laying there. He wanted to run, to cover his face in shame, to sink into the floor away from Makarov’s worried eyes that held no fear. There was only pity in their depths that made him feel worse. His breathing grew harsh as everything began to come back in vague pieces.

The memories were faint and blurred from the anger he'd felt, but with the chief's recollection he could catch the hints of surprised shouts and the crackling burn of splintered wood in his mind. He wouldn't be surprised if the room was nothing more than a gaping hole in the side of the building.  The realization reflected on his face in horror and despair. 

He'd hurt the old man. He could have killed everyone if not for Freed and that damned, filthy metal head and it was all because he couldn't control his temper.

He couldn't remember reason, try as he might, his rage had ignited something that made him blind to everything around him.

The tears that streamed down his face were unnoticed until a choking sob wracked through his body. “I'm sorry... ” He rasped, “I'm so sorry-”

Makarov continued to rub his forehead, shushing him quietly with clicks of his tongue and a gentle hum. It wasn't the same as the night before, when Lucy had held him tight, but the comfort was there. It had always been there. The chief was respected and loved for more than just his leadership and strength, he had always acted as a father or grandfather to the majority of magic users in his home and Natsu was no different.  He shuddered beneath the touch, whimpering softly as his inner turmoil threatened to boil him alive. 

“I told you,” Makarov murmured, voice low and mixed with pain, “it's not your fault. Whatever this is... this madness, it can be tempered now that we know about it. Don't just blame yourself for what you can't control: at least not yet.”

But he could control it, Natsu thought. He'd been taught so long ago to keep his rage in check, the lessons were a part of him for as long as he could wield those dark flames.

When had he begun to lose it? When had he stopped caring to hold the dark vestiges of it in check? He didn't have the time or the mental power to think it through in that moment, too aggrieved by his own actions, but he nodded despite himself, desperately wanting to believe anything Makarov said.

He didn't know how much longer he sobbed, unable to move while the elder stayed at his bedside. All he knew was the anguish at his own mistakes and the wild thoughts swarming through his mind in a tornado of regret. 

If only that draconis hadn't come, if only he hadn't come to Natsu's window last night if only-  he must have begun to mutter the thoughts out loud as Makarov quickly shushed him.

“I'll take care of him myself,” He assured, voice gruff, ”whatever he's after, it's not Lucy. What he has done to you is another matter that won’t go unpunished. He's followed my rules down to the letter, so far. You don't need to do a thing.“

”but...“ Natsu struggled through his words, sniffing as his earlier tears stuffed his nose and made his eyes far too swollen to be comfortable, ”we, I can't just-“

”Natsu,“ Makarov warned, removing his hand to flick the boy's chin in a sharp reprimand, ”as your chief, I will handle it. I can’t let you do anything in this state. His interest is clearly focused on you, not what Jose wants. I beg of you, please, hold yourself back..“

Natsu couldn’t. It wouldn’t be enough. It sounded so simple to do but how could he? Not when everything he’d struggled to build for himself was at stake. Why couldn’t Makarov get that?

”He knows about me…..who I am.“ Natsu whispered, voice cracking as he tried to get his point across.

Makarov hesitated, lifting his hands from Natsu at the reminder of a bold truth. True the questions burned at the old man’s mind. It was another strange puzzle piece to an already complex situation that continued to swell out of his control.  

But what was he to do? The boy before him was just that: a boy as terrified as the day Makarov carried him in his arms to a new life. He rested his palm over Natsu’s heart, the erratic beats thumping wild enough to rattle his bones. 

”A secret you have kept hidden for good reason I'm sure,“ Makarov agreed softly, ”but we all have our own secrets, and yours has been forced from you in a terrible way. It’s something I would like to speak with you about, but only when you are ready. For now I need you to recover. Focus on staying calm in the coming hours: understood? I’ll be back later to check on you.“

Natsu had no choice but to nod his head as another wave of guilt washed over him. Makarov gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he turned away, limping towards the door. It was painful to watch as he dragged a leg lamely behind him despite his best efforts to appear hale and hearty. He could see it now, the burnt edges of his pants, and the tight wrappings of white bandages spotted with red through the charred holes in his shirt. 

He tilted his head towards the wall and clenched his eyes shut, unable to accept the truth that he was the cause of everything. Makarov’s groan of pain was shut out by the door clicking shut, leaving him completely alone.

Natsu bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, forcing back another whine. More tears threatened to spill down his face. Not even the tang of his own blood filling his mouth could distract him. He deserved it for what he’d done.

What else could he do if he wasn’t careful and lost control again? Just how much damage would be done because he wasn’t strong enough? The thoughts clung to Natsu’s mind the rest of the day, unable to think of anything else.

[fairytail-backgrounds]

how the arc started and how it's ending

double dose of parallels here:

Gajeel stopping Laxus from hurting Levy and Levy interrupting Laxus from finishing off Gajeel (and Natsu)

Gajeel protecting Levy in the beginning of the arc and Natsu at the climax of it from Laxus' lightning

Fairy Tail, Chs. 105, 125-126

[neen-writes]

Silver for Monsters -- Ch. 8 "Ghosts"

Pairing: Gajeel/Levy

Series: Fairy Tail, Witcher AU

Notes: Finally found the motivation to finish this chapter! It's a bit transitional, a bit tense, I'm hoping to get into some juicier stuff in the next chapter. Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

--

“Is it true what the folk say? That Witchers are emotionless?”

A small, half-dead fire cast weak light on the Witcher and the sorceress. He’d set it, and maintained it long enough to roast the small rabbit he shot shortly after setting camp. It was a meager meal, but they’d both brought enough supplemental vittles to make it a worthwhile meal.

Gajeel grimaced at the broad question, with so little nuance. He leveled a disappointed stare at her, arching a single brow, “Tell me you’re not so thick.”

She raised her hands in surrender with a dry laugh. “I’m joking. I have eyes, you know,” she offered. “Curious where the rumor comes from though.” They had spoken briefly about what he was when they’d first met. It felt like an age, now, since that night in her old home when she was patching up his wounds from the Fiend. When she thought that was to be the one and only time that she would ever meet and interact with the Witcher. It felt more valuable, then, to try and eke out whatever information she could get on Witchers if she was to never meet one again.

It was amusing, in retrospect, how ignorant the two of them were that night to everything they would experience in the coming days. When fate would draw the two unlikely allies together not once, twice, but three times. It started to feel like some sort of cosmic affront to do anything but travel together. Which led her to wonder what that would mean for them when she did find Erza. Would the two of them go their separate ways then? Levy and her compatriots, surely, would have no shortage of work to do when she found out whatever Erza had to impart upon them. None of which had to do with Gajeel. 

Levy had limited knowledge on Witchers, but she did know that they notoriously did not involve themselves in the matters of men. Certainly not kings. Hunters for hire, that was their purpose, and they had yet to make any qualms with that designation.

Gajeel showed little amusement or enthusiasm towards entertaining her line of conversation.  Especially given where they left off just a short time before settling down for the night. He’d grown more than accustomed to her composure, at times so steadfast that she readily humbled him into his own. Levy, in the short time he knew her, held her nerve. In the face of Temerian soldiers and Fiends in the dark, she stood steady. Yet this night, looking into a crowd of dancers, the mere possibility she saw someone she believed dead drove her to near madness.  The look in her eyes before almost calling out to the crowd was unrecognizable. Foreign.

Still, it was clear even to him that she was just trying to fill the silence, and he found himself with much more tolerance for her than he expected. If tolerance was even the word for it. Did tolerance feel like the overwhelming desire for her to talk to him?

He cleaned off the last bit of meat from a femur, and swiped the back of his hand at the grease on his mouth. “Same place they all come from. Shite storytellers with an agenda. Witchers were respected until they weren’t, and you know the damage the right people can do with ignorant townsfolk and a good motive.” There was no real bitterness or displeasure in his tone as much as there was boredom. It was a tired tale and it made no difference to him what people thought. If Witchers took the time to give a shit about the opinions of the masses, they’d never do anything else. “We gotta keep ourselves in check in this line o’ work anyway. Focused, disciplined, all that. It’s an easy image to keep.”

Levy cocked her head, leaning back against a tree. “It’s clearly untrue, why let them believe it?” 

Gajeel shrugged, “Why not? It’s good for business, and we get paid either way,” he flicked a cleaned bone off into the shrubs. “If you’re necessary, good at what you do, and feared, it tends to work in your favor.” With a long stick, he pushed around the charred logs in the fire, working to smother the remaining embers.  It was risky enough to set a fire, but they needed to eat, and if he was being honest, he wouldn’t have protested a little something to get his blood pumping.

The sorceress knit her brows together, “I have a sneaking suspicion that really only works if you’re a man.”

“It does. Good news for me,” he flashed a sly grin at her, which she did not return outright, but the twinkle was in her eye regardless. That should not have felt like as much of a victory as it did. “Though the stories ain’t stingy with how much not being a man works for you sorceresses,” Gajeel paused to puff out his chest a little and tilt up his chin, “Political power, wealth, positions of esteem.” There’s mockery in his tone coming from someone that had absolutely no regard for any of these things. Money he needed, sure, for gear and the day to day. But wealth? Nothing but problems.

Levy barked a laugh that lacked any shred of warmth. Ah, that was far less satisfying. “Oh yes, how mighty we are,” she sneered, adjusting the hood around her neck. “When men fear one another, they have an odd habit of turning it into respect or obedience. Oh but when men fear women, particularly those they cannot grasp and control when fires ignite in their gluttonous, round bellies…” She held his stare then, the dying firelight dancing across her features. He thought, suddenly, of when he first met her and the way her conjured fire illuminated her when facing the Fiend. How his immediate thought, before he controlled himself, was how terrifyingly beautiful she was. And how that clashed with what she was telling him now.

Half of the Lodge’s identity was their beauty. In fact, it had been an intentional representation, because magic and swords were not half as effective at gaining favor as desire. Part of their development as mages, a reward as it had once been called, was the ability to alter their appearances. If one had the chance to make themselves beautiful and young with a wave of their hand for the rest of their lives, who would pass the opportunity?

In their prime, their alliances wanted both their favor and their company in equal measure. The latter they could often dangle without ever having to follow through, though that wasn’t to say there hadn’t been sorceresses that readily wielded that weapon whenever the benefit arose. Vanity was a trademark of the Lodge, and they had no reason to hide it. Everything was a competition, least of all how many powerful men each had wrapped around their pinky.

The truth of the matter was the Lodge as a whole got cocky. Regardless if there were those of them who preferred more subtle, careful approaches, they were still a singular body in the eyes of kings. The fall was swift, brutal, and bloody. Now she lived in hiding, on the run, with all her relationships strained or burned.

“Well,” she continued, gesturing down at herself, “The story writes itself in living color.” Levy stared Gajeel down a moment longer, then sighed and looked off to the side. She was bitter, how could she not be? She crossed her arms, settled back into the tree best she could, and shut her eyes, “We should get some sleep.”

That was that, and any chance Gajeel had of pushing the issue, or any others burning in his mind was gone. He waited at least another hour to sleep, ensuring the fire was out entirely and their surroundings remained quiet. He told himself that was the only reason he stayed up, but his attention was split between their surroundings and the slow breaths of the demure mage. 

Gajeel wasn’t a curious man by nature. He did not linger, he did not dwell. He killed his targets, collected his reward, and moved on. But this situation he found himself in, somehow willingly, was against everything he thought himself to be. He wanted to know more about Levy, he wanted to help her.

A rustle in the brush coiled every muscle in his body, and his eyes flicked from her to motion where the shrubs cleared. A rabbit ran, the shadowed figure of some bird of prey trailing behind. He relaxed, and only then did he realize he had reflexively angled himself closer to her.

Gajeel wanted to protect her.

Those thoughts sat like stones in his chest. Dangerous, heavy stones. But even so, for the first time in the last few weeks, the Witcher’s sleep was dreamless, and the tug in his chest had gone still.

–

“What if they don’t like me, though?” green, expectant eyes turned up to the sorceress who was only a few inches taller than her. Two figures walked down familiarly cold, dreary halls, the shorter carrying a small stack of books.  Levy walked with a practiced poise, the straightness in her spine giving away some indication of a higher position.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” That was her voice, Levy’s voice, but it didn’t come from her. In fact, it was as thought she was watching herself from the outside. “Even if they don’t, it doesn’t matter. You’re the most talented prospect Aretuza has seen in an age.”

The younger pouted in response, “But I don’t want to just be a talent. You’re so many things, Levy. I want to be many things too.”

“Likable, among those?” Levy raised her brows and gave a warm, knowing smile to the young mage. “You have more to your advantage than you give yourself credit for.  Don’t let the jealousy of your year-mates distract you.”

They turned a corner, coming face to face with another woman dressed like Levy and with similarly perfect posture. A tail of near-white hair was braided over her right shoulder, hanging in front, tied with a black ribbon. All the sorceresses, even the sorcerers, out of Aretuza boasted fair looks, but Mirajane was nothing short of a vision. Devastatingly beautiful, she had spared no effort when given the opportunity to magically alter her appearance. It was as though she looked at every possible asset she could bestow upon herself, and said ‘yes, all.’

“Levy, Mavis,” she nodded to them both by way of greeting. Behind her, a small group of girls the same age as the younger mage with Levy suddenly found the walls and the floors more interesting. “Will you be joining class this evening, or will your lessons take up all your valuable time?” A sly, playfully accusatory look slid over to Levy, who merely rolled her eyes. “I’ll be expanding on deadly herbs and their versatility in harm and healing, if that’s of any motivation for you.” 

Mavis shifted shamefully at Levy’s side. She did enjoy Mira’s classes, but Levy’s private lessons were far more interesting. “I’ll have her back when expected, Mira,” Levy cut in, placing a hand on Mavis’ head.

“I’ll hold you to it.” The other sorceress gave her a warm smile, then beckoned to the group of girls behind her to follow along down the hall. 

Levy chuckled to herself and ruffled the young mage’s wet hair.

Thunder boomed through the keep’s halls, and Levy withdrew her bloody hand from the girl at her side. She looked out the window first to clear blue skies, and another crack came roaring through. The sorceress opened her mouth to speak to her apprentice, but when looking down upon her found lifeless pools of green staring back. Through her. A cloak of red spread over her, pooling at her bare feet, and volatile magic crackled in sickly green sparks around her.

“I wanted to be just like you.” The third explosion collapsed the halls, and the floor fell out from under them. “I always will.”

–

In the distance, thunder rumbled, long and rolling. Levy lurched awake so violently she choked on her own breath, and fell into a coughing fit.  She sat up abruptly, cupping her hands over her mouth to stifle the sound, when two hands pressed on her shoulders. Her eyes darted aimlessly before finding the yellow irises of her Witcher.

“Eyes on me, Lev,” Gajeel’s voice rumbled, calmly, through the chaos of her waking mind. “Breathe,” he commanded, and his grip squeezed once on her shoulders.

She held eye contact with him, trying to swallow down her choking breaths, and he waited patiently with her. The proximity made his heart stutter, but he couldn’t spare the composure to think about it. Levy clasped her collar, trying to anchor herself, and after several moments the fits ceased.

“Good. In through the nose, out through the mouth,” he instructed, calling back on his own daily meditations. She followed without protest until he could hear her heartbeat slow. 

The sun had barely started to rise, and cast a stark red glow through the trees upon their camp. It could not have been a more ominous light to wake up from a nightmare into. “I’m fine, thank you,” she raised her hand and placed it against his chest, a form of dismissal but to him a jolt. He released her with control, and leaned back onto his heels.

“Still can’t sleep, eh?”

Levy laughed dryly and swallowed hard, “You could say that,” she answered, “Just, dreams that don’t make any sense.” She brushed herself off, trying to smooth the sleep out of her clothes. Twice now she had embarrassed herself with him.

“I find most of ‘em make sense if you turn ‘em the right way,” he remarked vaguely as he eyed her up and down. He knew that better than she could understand. “Ya want to talk about it? Ain’t been right since last night.” Levy shot him a look that was a pretty immediate ‘no,’ with a tingle of uneasiness that he wasn’t going to just pretend her outbursts at the windmill or just now didn’t happen. “Got anythin’ to do with this Mavis?” Color drained from her face all over again. “You were mumblin’ it in your sleep,” he offered, hoping it would land a bit softer than rehashing their night.

She groaned and ran her fingers through her blue hair, the color shifting with the movement of her hands back to an unassuming brown. Her palms dragged down and round her neck, then pushed up her cheeks to rub at her aching temples. “Can we talk about this on horseback, please. I’m stiffer than a shot of dwarven spirits.”

Gajeel blinked, then laughed gruffly while hauling himself up onto his feet. “Deal. Rain’s gonna start at some point and we got a ways to our destination, yet.”

Another groan. “Rain. Stellar.”

–

“It makes no sense,” Levy started, clutching the rim of the saddle behind her.  They’d been riding for somewhere close to an hour already, and moisture most certainly hung in the air as dark clouds moved in faster than they were cantering. “She’d never even been to Aretuza. Mavis came into my life before everything fell apart,” there was a faraway tone in her voice, like still half trying to make sense of the imagery. “Though not for lack of trying on everyone else’s part…but that place would have ruined her.”

Gajeel took a moment to consider his words, which by all accounts was not something he cared to do often. But this was significant to her. “There was someone at the party that looked like her.” Not a question.

Levy deflated, and her face heated in embarrassment. “Yes.”

“But she’s dead?”

Her breathing stilled, and there was a long beat before she answered again. “Has been for a while. But for that dance, however long it was, she was alive. She loved to dance. Terrible at it, but she was a child then. She would have been,” another weighted pause as she started to count, but gave up, “well, it doesn't matter. Facts are what they are. And I lost my head for a moment. It won't happen again.” There was an edge to her words that told him she was done talking about this. Again. “We soldier on, Gajeel.”

For now, he would have to leave it be, whether he wanted to or not.

The trail they followed forked in front of them, with the most direct route bringing them through Alness, and the path to the left along the forest edge before curving south again.  It had been some time since he came out this way, but the way was still familiar. The less direct route would avoid the bustle of town, and still get them to their destination with little time lost. 

Wordlessly, he pulled them left and continued in relative silence as thunder rumbled again and rain started to sprinkle. However, Levy was the one to speak again, voice low with warning. “Gajeel, smoke.”

The Witcher grunted, narrowing his eyes at the black wisp rising from somewhere just past the treeline. “I see it,” he replied, giving a quick nudge to the horse to bring them to a trot. All they needed to do was look busy, and keep moving. There’s a lot of trouble that can be avoided by not lingering.

But, not this trouble, it would seem.

Four men with weapons drawn emerged from the brush, and if his hearing served him right a fifth hung back out of view. Gajeel pulled back on the reins to slow down, scanning over the four of them with a look that he hoped would give them second thoughts. Subtly, he leaned forward leading with his right shoulder, where the two hilts of his swords rose up. With his eyesight, he saw one of them look at his weapons, hesitating for just a second, before moving then to the small undeniably feminine figure in the saddle behind him. 

Gajeel bristled more than he expected to when they all exchanged looks, speaking unintelligibly to each other. He angled the horse in a way it would look like he intended to swing wide, and one of the smaller men took a quick step in the same direction, sealing their intentions.

Instinctive excitement bubbled in his chest at an opportunity to test his armor at last. His breathing slowed, and a predator’s calm settled over him. “Stay on the horse. Do nothing to draw attention,” he said in a low voice, angling forward to dismount.

“I can help, Gajeel, you’re outnumbered,” Levy whispered back, pulling her hood more securely over her head.

“Ain’t gonna say it again. This’ll only take a minute,” Gajeel heaved himself off the horse, landing with a heavy thud in the dirt. “Keep. Your. Cover,” he growled, not once taking his eyes off the bandits in the road. “Ride when they come at you.”

Levy didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant before the Witcher took off in a full sprint for the trees, away from the group, and several things happened at once. By the faces of the four men in the open, they were also taken entirely by surprise. One of them, wielding a mace, took only a second of hesitation before he shouted in protest, and took off in pursuit. The remaining three looked to Levy, stricken suddenly with expressions that screamed ‘opportunity.’

“Hells, Gajeel!” she hissed, scooting forward in the saddle to take hold of the reins and give a hard tug and a swift kick.  The horse took off in a wide arc to put distance between her and the immediate threat and try to keep eyes on Gajeel.

But he barged, unhindered, through the underbrush, and disappeared swiftly from view.  Unaware of the fifth member, it appeared to Levy that he just left the scene entirely, but despite how little they knew one another it seemed unlikely he would run from a fight. 

At the same moment the man with the mace caught up to the treeline, Gajeel came back into view to meet him, dragging a small man with a bow by the face. The Witcher effortlessly lifted his captive up in front of him, ‘aiming’ him at the assailant, as an arcane blast of force launched the archer forward. Two bodies cracked together and crumpled into the dirt, but Gajeel did not stop.

Levy didn’t have the time to track what he would do next as he barrelled forward, forced to keep her attention on the men that had their sights on her.  She could easily have ridden off and truly gone a safe distance, but she had no desire to be so useless, and would need to stick with evasive maneuvers while keeping close.

“That’s right sweetheart, stay right there!” one of them sneered, and she felt her skin prickle.

If I fry all three of you it won’t matter if I break my cover.  Try it, ape, she thought, feeling her fingertips tingle. 

The mage would find no use for her magic today, as Gajeel commanded their attention instead, with no room for indecision. “Eyes on me!” The words may have been enough, but he punctuated them with three brutal cracks of his sword fist against his chest before brandishing the black steel sword at his side. The Witcher was the embodiment of brutality, and as he rushed forward the thrill of violence surged through every vein, spurred even more by the flash of regret from the remaining three bandits. 

Too late to back out now; he made it more than obvious they were dealing with a Witcher. And not just any, but Black Steel.  It was time for them to get an intimate view at the craftsmanship that earned him that name. 

They made a paltry attempt to ready themselves for the one-man onslaught, the bolder of the three lurching forward with a shortsword swing.

Let’s see how good your work is, Salamander, he thought, skidding to a halt as he thrust up his right forearm to take the hit. The blade clashed into the scales of his bracers, and went no further. Gajeel barked a thrilled laugh, glancing at the man from below his arm, as his free hand shot forward to unleash a blast of fire into the bandit’s face.

The agonized scream barely rose from his throat before Gajeel sidestepped around him, and with one spin he arced his steel into the two remaining men at once. In a matter of seconds, all that remained was hiss of his fire under steadier rainfall, and Gajeel was left feeling…wholly dissatisfied.

He huffed, swinging his steel to the side hard enough to throw off the majority of the blood. The sound of hoofbeats approached, and he turned to meet Levy as she came closer.  He watched her sweep her eyes over him once, and he found himself straightening slightly under her scrutiny.  “Having fun, are you?” she asked, crossing her arms and surveying their surroundings while trying to avoid looking at any of the bodies too long.

Gajeel flashed his teeth at her, “I would, if they were worth–”

Levy’s face twisted in panicked urgency, her eyes locking onto something beyond them, but all the warning she could manage was to shout his name.

White pain blasted from the edge of the Witcher’s vision, followed immediately by the scream of a horse.

[classysassy9791]

“When you’re ready.” - artwork by me (do not repost)

When a job goes terribly wrong, the Fairy Tail guild is left to pick up the pieces. Mourning the deaths of their guildmates, Lucy can't seem to find the strength to move forward. But she comes to realize one person understands. His madness was her mercy, and she finally began to hope that maybe he could make her heart beat again.

Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Adventure/Tragedy Warning: Character Death(s)

Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6

Chapter 7 Word Count: 5400 Can also be found on AO3 and FFN @ft-reboost​

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.

“Levy?” Cana shook her head, her glassy eyes turning back to the barrel she had been clutching since she strolled into the guild just after dawn. “I haven’t seen her all day. I didn’t see her come back to Fairy Hills last night either.”

Gajeel leaned against the bar, steely eyes peering over the expanse of the guildhall. Only a week had passed since the news of Titania and Salamander’s deaths, along with that silly blue cat of his. Things were far from normal at the Fairy Tail guild, but slowly people were beginning to show up for meal times and try to make conversation.

Some people, like Gray and Lucy, hadn’t been seen since the funeral. Gajeel hadn’t been too concerned about them - they had lost their teammates after all - but Levy had always been present. So, it bothered him that she had suddenly disappeared.

Cana shrugged. “She’s been reading books pretty avidly lately, more so than usual anyways. Maybe check out the library?”

Gajeel grumbled a ‘thanks' before pushing off the bar and finding his way to the Fairy Tail library housed beneath the guild. He had never stepped foot inside the book repository. He never had a need to. So it took him a while to search through the maze of shelves.

He found Levy near the back of the library sitting on the floor with a dozen books spread around her. She sat with her knees tucked beneath her, wind-reader glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, and hair pulled back by a headband. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but with Gajeel’s sharpened sight, he could see the bags forming under her eyes. She wasn’t destroyed, but she was getting there.

“Hey, Shrimp,” he called out to grab her attention.

Her brown eyes continued to quickly shift over the words on the page, completely zoned in on whatever had captured her attention.

He crouched down, leaning his arms against his thighs. “Levy.”

She startled, shooting her tired gaze to his. When she realized who he was, she relaxed, a breath of relief passing her lips. “Gajeel. What are you doing down here?”

“Came lookin’ for ya. Cana said she didn’t see you come home last night.”

“Yeah, I was out late and I left pretty early this morning. Wanted to get some reading done.” She marked the page in her book and slipped off her glasses, rubbing her thumb and forefinger over tired eyes. Wisps of stray blue hair framed her face as she smiled up at him.

He watched her carefully, taking note of how lifeless her peppy personality had become. “Your smile isn’t as bright as it used to be,” he off-handedly commented.

Pink dusted her cheeks. “O-Oh, is it now?” She chuckled nervously before shrugging and tilting her head. “Just give me a little while to be said. Someday soon, I promise to come back brighter than ever!” She pumped her fist in the air to emphasize her words.

Nothing could ever scare Gajeel more than the look in her eyes right then - that false bravado, the courageous face she was putting on. But her eyes told it all. Levy was slowly dying inside from the grief, and it terrified him.

The iron-dragon slayer cleared his throat, glancing over the mountain of books she had surrounded herself with. Majority of them were in languages he couldn’t name, but the ones he could make out had the words ‘demons’ and ‘purgatory’ in them. “Uh, what’re you reading about?”

“Well,” she started sheepishly, poking her index fingers together and peering up at him with a hesitant expression - almost like a child waiting to be scolded. He raised a brow, prompting her to continue. “I, uh, I’m researching the demons that attacked Team Natsu.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You serious? Those demons are long gone.” He scoffed and stood up. “Whoever did this will still be out there after we get our feet back under us.”

Pursing her lips, Levy climbed to her feet beside him and shook her head. “I know that,” she murmured, clasping her hands in front of her and looking up at him with determination. “But if I stopped, if I gave up for now, I wouldn’t have anything left driving me forward and grief would consume me.” She released a shuddering breath, her eyes misty as she glanced away. “I-I can’t fix anyone’s pain. I can’t bring Natsu, Erza, or Happy back. I can’t piece together whatever happiness we have left. But this…” She turned and gestured to the towers of books. “Finding the people who did this, no matter how small of a chance - this is something I can do.”

He studied her closely. For as long as Gajeel had known her, Levy had never given up. Not when she fought to forgive him after he brutally attacked her. Not during the battle of Fairy Tail when she rewrote Freed’s spell and released him and Natsu to take on Laxus. Not when they battled Grimroire Heart on Tenrou. Not even during the battle of the dragons as she pushed all the townsfolk to safety. She had always been front and center, doing everything in her power to ensure victory, no matter the cost.

So, as he stared at her, petite yet fierce, he knew no matter what he said, she wasn’t going to let this one go. And part of him didn’t want to. Because the demons who had killed their guildmates were going to pay.

“Tartaros.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Wh-What?”

“It was Tartaros.” Gajeel had overhead Makarov that day in the guildhall, picked up easily with his sensitive hearing. Sleuthing was one of his strong suits. It’s why he was able to play a double-agent so well. However, Makarov’s caution regarding Tartaros was justified, and he wasn’t yet sure if he should question that decision. Makarov wasn’t exactly a man to doubt when it came to his motives. The other dragon slayers hadn’t been nearby, so Gajeel was sure he was the only one who knew.

Levy swallowed thickly, her surprise quickly snuffed out with new resolve. “I-I had a feeling they may have been involved. They’re the only dark guild left that could’ve done something like this. Just hadn’t found proof yet,” she murmured, her eyes sweeping over her research. “Not sure how the demons tie into them though.”

Gajeel smirked. Levy’s actions over the past couple of days and the books piled on the floor at their feet were evidence that she had figured it out. Of course she did. “Well, what did you find?”

They shared a look, one filled with unwavering conviction. The unknown of what laid ahead terrified them - the notion of going up against a dark guild known only as the Gates to the Underworld. But their pain and grief triumphed over everything. Their vengeance would remain strong and true until the bitter end, whenever that would come.

For now, Levy smiled and sat down on the floor again to share what she had learned. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

After another unsettling night in the guildhall - quiet grieving masked by alcohol - Mirajane and Lisanna worked to clean up the aftermath. It had dawned on the elder Strauss sibling that they would run out of booze soon. They hadn’t yet recovered from their most recent celebration after Crocus, which had only been a week ago, but it felt as if a lifetime had passed since then.

Had it only been seven days? Seven days since the end of the Grand Magic Games, the dragon attack, and the parties that followed. Natsu had stolen the king’s crown, an embarrassing yet hilarious end to their time in the capital. He had jubilantly shouted for them to bow down to him, causing Erza to nearly punish him on the spot for mortifying Fairy Tail. Everyone had laughed, including the king and Hisui, the terrifying battle with mythical creatures now behind them. They had been victorious. And now-

A jarring crash stole Mirajane’s attention, the echoes of broken glass filling the empty guildhall. She quickly looked over to see that her younger sister had dropped a plate, causing it to shatter on the floor. “Oh, Lisanna! Are you all right? Here, let me help.”

She knelt down with a towel beside her, attempting to clean up the mess, but as they began picking up the broken pieces, Lisanna cut herself on a shard of glass. “Ouch,” she murmured while recoiling, wincing as a drop of blood appeared on her finger.

“You have to be careful,” Mirajane gently chastised, wrapping her towel around Lisanna’s injury.

Lisanna sighed, averting her gaze. She bit her lower lip until it was almost raw, the sisters remaining quiet as Mirajane put pressure on her finger to stop the blood flow. A few moments passed before Lisanna finally spoke up. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Mirajane was pulled from her thoughts and looked at the younger take-over mage. Ever since her youth, Lisanna had always had this upbeat and positive attitude. It was infectious and often kept Mirajane’s own worries at bay. But now, looking at the deep sadness that reflected in her eyes, Mirajane realized even the most positive people could have their world crushed.

She tilted her head and knitted her brows. “What do you mean?”

Lisanna wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I-I know Lucy is a good person. She’s beautiful, smart, and kind. But…” She paused, swallowing thickly, and curling her uninjured hand into a tight fist. “I-I’ve been jealous of her ever since I met her.”

Mirajane frowned. As far as she could tell, Lucy and Lisanna had been amicable since they met. She had seen no ire from either of them, and Lisanna had never confided in her with such feelings before. Yet, she had an inkling of where these emotions stemmed from.

“But,” Lisanna continued with guilt-ridden eyes. “She was also Natsu’s best friend. I know I shouldn’t be jealous. When I was away, Lucy came along and became a part of Natsu’s life. And part of me is happy about that, because when I was in Edolas, I had been so worried about him - about what would happen to him without me around. Yet..” She paused again, tears filling her eyes.

Shame was not an easy burden to carry. Mirajane rested a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. “What is it?”

Lisanna choked out a cry, hurrying to brush away the tears that fell down her cheeks. “I-I just can’t help feeling as if part of me holds Lucy responsible for Natsu and Happy’s deaths,” she confessed quietly, her sin finally out in the open. “She was there - right there - and didn’t save them! That somehow it’s all her fault that they’re gone.”

Realizing the cause of her sister’s affliction, Mirajane’s heart went out to her. “Oh, Lisanna,” she sighed.

“Is there s-something wrong with me?” she asked again, her words broken as whimpers escaped her lips.

Mirajane wrapped her hands around her sister’s, coaxing their gazes to meet. “Yes, but it’s the same thing that’s wrong with all of us. We’re looking for someone to blame - someone tangible right in front of us - because it’s easier than believing this had all been a terrible tragedy at the hands of demons we can’t find.”

Lisanna nodded her head, sniffling. “I just-” She paused, fruitlessly attempting to push away her tears. “I had so many things I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him how much I had missed him, and that I was proud of how strong he had become. Just so many unspoken thoughts and words, but I couldn’t say them to him. I couldn’t face him and admit to him that I was jealous, and how hurt I was when I came back and things weren’t the same. It’s because of that fear that I never got the chance to say the one that was important. I never had the chance-” *Hiccup* “To-To tell him I loved him.”

As she broke down crying, Mirajane pulled her to her chest, feeling her own eyes well up with tears. Long ago she had suspected the animal take-over mage had developed feelings for the dragon slayer. Their friendship ran deep and the two were rarely seen without the other. Even though Lisanna had her siblings, and Natsu had the rest of the rowdy bunch of young wizards, the two of them had always shared a special connection.

If she were being honest, Mirajane couldn’t remember Lisanna and Natsu actually sharing a moment alone after she returned from Edolas. The S-Class Trials began only weeks later, and they had all been swept up in the grandeur of friendly skirmishes. After their seven year stasis, they immediately began to train for the Grand Magic Games. Between being declared the victors and the battles with the dragons immediately following, it was amazing that Lisanna had adjusted as well as she did. They really hadn’t been granted the opportunity to immerse her back into their life. The sisters had shared conversations and talked late into the night on plenty of occasions, catching Lisanna up on what she had missed during her time away, but that didn’t account for the memories and emotional attachments she had missed.

Mirajane felt the weight of the world on her shoulders and the weight of Lisanna’s grief in her arms as she contemplated her sister’s predicament. “I know it’s difficult to keep going,” Mirajane soothed quietly, running a hand through her hair. “But just know that you have to.”

“How?” Lisanna cried out, her emotional vexation reminding Mirajane so much of her own when a certain red-head had come to her aid. “How can I, when I feel so bitter, as if I have no direction anymore?”

Mirajane smiled sadly. “I remember that feeling. You’re caught between all that was and all that must be. You feel lost.” She pulled away to look down at her sister, wiping away her tears. “But remember, things will weigh you down, but only if you let them. I get it. It’s hard to pretend that a boulder is a feather. It’s hard to pretend that something difficult is easy. So, just do what I’ve done for years. I just pretend that I’m strong, until I am.”

Lisanna sniffled, her sobs finally beginning to quiet.

The elder take-over mage sighed, memories turning back to when she thought Lisanna had died, and the guilt that nearly killed Elfman. “You may feel bitter toward Lucy, and angry over Natsu. But the truth is,” she said, gently resting her forehead against her sister’s. “Unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself for those feelings, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize the situation is over - you can’t move forward.”

Levy knocked on a familiar door she had walked through many times before. She played with a strand of her hair, brown eyes drawn to the floor boards beneath her feet. It had become her daily ritual when taking a break from the library to walk to the apartment complex not far from the guild hall, her heart aching for a smiling, blonde, celestial wizard to welcome her in. But that moment had yet to come. Not the day after the funeral, or the week that followed. Lucy Heartfilia had become a ghost, locking herself within the same four walls and refusing to see anyone.

The solid-script mage exhaled deeply, feeling terribly helpless during this time of grieving. Her research hadn’t turned up anything worthwhile at the Fairy Tail library, so in between musing over other means of gathering information, she filled her days of attempting to bring some semblance of normalcy back to the guild. She read books in the hall and tried to greet everyone with a cheerful smile. The awkward responses she received indicated she was trying too hard, but she didn’t know what else to do. They needed someone to spur them into action, a speech of hope and faith to give them the final push toward defeating their current adversary.

However, Makarov had said nothing on the subject, instead locking himself within his office for days on end, allowing only Mirajane and Laxus to speak with him on occasion. Levy didn’t know what the master was planning, but she had a sneaking suspicion he was doing his own digging into Tartaros, perhaps pulling strings she herself did not possess.

“Lucy,” she called out desperately for her friend, knocking again in the hopes this time she would let her in. The deep blues of night had descended on Magnolia, snuffing out the last bit of sunlight, and causing Levy to feel that more anxious about Lucy’s well-being. “Please, I just want to talk, make sure you’re okay.” Her eyes filled with frustrated tears, hands curling into fists at her sides. “I’m worried sick, Lu. Open the door.”

The tiny script mage’s voice was stern - demanding - so different from her carefree nature only weeks before. She was tired of fighting against Lucy’s absurd way of shutting out the world. They were a family, dammit, and they needed each other. Couldn’t she see that?

She pushed her blue hair out of her face, setting one last despondent look at Lucy’s apartment door before turning to leave. Just as she began making her way out of the front door, Loke appeared in a glitter of golden light, startling her. His suit was clean-pressed as usual, but his expression twisted into one of concern.

“Levy,” he greeted languidly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“How is she?” Levy asked, hands wrapping around themselves in worry. “Why-Why won’t she let me in?”

“She’s okay,” he soothed, dark circles under his eyes speaking of exhaustion. He readjusted his glasses. “Don’t worry. Her spirits are looking after her. Lucy suffered a terrible loss, and she’s taking it hard.” He sighed, looking over at her door as if he could see right through it. “From what Aquarius told me, when Lucy’s mother died, she tried to do the same thing. But she was young - easily distracted by her estate’s employees and the little attention her father gave her.”

Levy shook her head dismissively. “Then why won’t she let us help her now? Why won’t she come to the guild, or let us in?”

He shrugged. “She just lost her team, and one of her best friends - the person who gave her purpose in life again. Lucy spent years under her father’s thumb until she ran away to find happiness. Natsu gave that to her. He brought her to Fairy Tail. She’s going to need time to heal.”

That wasn’t the explanation Levy wanted to hear, but she could understand what Loke was saying. And seeing as how some of Lucy’s spirits had been with her for far longer than the guild had, she supposed they understood her grieving process better than she. Even so, Loke’s words did little to soothe her concern.

“If she becomes a real concern, I’ll make sure to come find you,” Loke said as a last attempt to pacify her apprehension. “I promise.”

Levy nodded, her gaze holding his. “I’m trusting you,” she murmured, before pushing past him and out the front door.

Loke stood for a moment, rubbing tired eyes, before slipping back into Lucy’s room. Virgo was in the process of running her a warm bath. Although Lucy always loved soaking in her tub, it had been hard to convince her to do so lately.

“Here you go, Princess,” he heard Virgo say from beyond the bathroom door, assisting their mage into the tub. Shortly after, Virgo stepped out into the room, exchanging a look of unease with him.

Lucy sank down into the water, the silver-gray stream curling and dancing through the air, filling the bathroom completely. After a while, a golden light shimmered in the air, and Aquarius appeared, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Lucy’s indifferent expression.

“Lucy,” she tried, receiving not even a notion that she had been heard. She frowned, her usual bitter attitude and short-lipped responses falling to the wayside. Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe the blonde sitting before her. She sighed. “You can’t blame yourself,” she murmured, watching her carefully. “Not for this.”

The celestial mage turned her head away, eyes staring at moisture accumulating on the tile floor. “How can I not?” she asked quietly. “I survived and they didn’t.”

Aquarius had no real answer for that. Survivor’s guilt was not something that could be overcome easily. It was like the weight of the ocean’s walls were crushing a person, uncontrolled by levis. The mermaid spirit had been around long enough to have seen many of her former key holders experience such a thing. Being a wizard was not always a joyous job to yield.

“It’s okay that you survived,” she spoke softly, looking at Lucy with a pitied gaze. “I’m even happy about it.”

That made Lucy look up at her with a raised brow.

A deep blush settled on Aquarius’s cheeks. “Look, you may be a brat, but you’re Layla’s daughter. Of course I wouldn’t want anything really bad to happen to you.”

For the first time in a long time, Lucy’s lips tugged into a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Aquarius.” Although their relationship had always been close to volatile, the mermaid spirit spoke her care discreetly.

Aquarius folded her arms over her chest, blue eyes continuing to study Lucy. Her grief this time had upended her life much like Layla’s death had, but this time, Lucy wasn’t an easily distractible child. The celestial mage understood very well what had happened to her friends, and had witnessed the trauma first hand. It wouldn’t be something that she would be able to overcome anytime soon.

“You should talk about it,” Aquarius urged gently.

Lucy’s reaction was instantaneous. She wrapped her arms tighter around her knees and hid her face between them. Aquarius could feel the anxiety coming off the girl in waves. “I-I can’t,” Lucy’s muffled, shaky voice came from the protection of her self-made sheath.

A deep exhale slipped from her lips. With a hand more gentle than ever before, Aquarius ran her fingers through Lucy’s golden tresses before coming to rest comfortably on top. “You’ll have to eventually. When you’re ready.”

Coruscating golden light filled the room and Lucy felt Aquarius’s hand disappear along with her presence. She was left alone in a lukewarm bath. Aquarius always hated bath time. The fact that she had decided to show up now soothed Lucy’s heart.

Moments later, Virgo assisted Lucy into her pajamas and then to the couch, where Virgo set about brushing Lucy’s hair. Silence filled the apartment, Virgo being careful not to pull at Lucy’s tresses. Loke stood by the window, looking down at the street below, stealing glances behind him at his mage.

Loke had lived for a very long time. He had seen the blackest moments grief and tragedy could offer. They could bury a person alive simply by the sheer weight of it all. The darkness would swallow people whole without mercy, even bringing about death. Yet, he had also seen the other side of that coin - the light that shined brightly despite the wickedness life would bring. He witnessed euphoria and triumph, the gleeful laughter of happiness too much to contain.

More than anything, Loke wanted to show Lucy that world - the brilliant sun and the skies. Happiness lived outside of these four walls she had cocooned herself within. It existed all around - in the ice creams that melted quickly; the sandy beaches and waves that tickled ankles; in the little white shells hidden under the sand, their insides still grainy with remnants of sand and iridescence. There was happiness in the fiery red and orange hues that filled the sky when the sun bid farewell; and happiness even in the pale calm of the night with the stars that shone above, reminders of all the things that were greater than the world.

There was so much more to this life than her grief, and he only wished he could help her see past this moment.

“All finished,” Virgo said quietly as she ran her fingers through Lucy’s tresses a final time.

“Thank you.” The mage’s mumbled gratitude was more conversation than the spirits had hoped she would have offered. She hadn’t been up for much talking.

Virgo exchanged a look with Loke before disappearing back to the celestial realm. Still, Lucy didn’t move. Her gaze fixated on a spot on the wall, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket on her lap, her mind obviously elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” Loke asked, quickly chastising himself for asking the question as Lucy scoffed. The blonde didn’t spare him a glance, but did pull her gaze to her lap. He closed the distance between them and stood in front of her so he could meet her eyes. His expression let her know he wasn’t going to leave until she answered him.

She wasn’t able to hold his stare long before she looked away. “I’m just tired, all right?” she finally said to pacify him. It seemed to be her answer every time he asked. And he asked a lot. Over and over and over again, day in and day out, as if waiting for her answer to change. He was sure he was beginning to annoy her, but to be frank, any emotion that Lucy exhibited other than overwhelming sadness was a win in his book.

“Get up.” It was more of a demand than a request, which only seemed to anger Lucy further.

She frowned and ignored him, not even entertaining him with a response. If she had her way, he was sure she would fall asleep on the couch just to spite him.

Loke sighed and knelt down so he was eye-level with her. “Please, Lucy. Do it for me.”

His pleading gaze nearly broke her conviction. He could see it. They had been through so much in such a short time together, he knew she would have a hard time denying his request. Was he playing dirty by waving their trust in her face? Probably. But he was desperate.

The lion spirit reached out a hand and covered hers. “If you do, I promise I’ll give you some space.”

Well, that compromise seemed to peak her interest. “Why?” she asked warily.

He chuckled, picking up on her guarded expression. “We aren’t going far. You’ll like it. Trust me.”

And he knew that was something Lucy could never deny. The trust between them was iron-clad and something she would never dispute. “Fine,” she ultimately conceded with a deep sigh. “Where to?”

“Follow me.”

The Leader of the Zodiac took her hand in his, guiding her carefully to her apartment door. She hesitated as he attempted to direct her into the hallway, panicking about venturing back into the world that still turned without half of Team Natsu. But Loke encouraged her with a gentle tug.

Lucy took a deep breath and followed him up the stairs to the third floor, and then up further still until they happened upon the hatch to the roof. Loke opened it before reaching behind him and helping Lucy out. “What are we doing out here?” she asked once she was standing beside him.

He stayed silent, pulled her with him toward the front end, and sat down near the edge where the shingles began slanting downward. He patted the ground beside him invitingly and she cautiously joined him. Once she settled in he pointed out toward the Magnolia, past the river the boatmen always drifted down.

“Look, Lucy.”

She followed his finger to where the sky met the horizon far beyond the town. The outline of the Fairy Tail guild, shrouded in darkness, could be seen, and just beyond that sat Lake Sciliora. A shimmering of stars lit up the night sky, becoming more visible as the midnight hour approached. The city quietly began to fall asleep as lights faded from windows and people emptied the streets.

Folding her knees and wrapping her arms around them, Lucy wistfully gazed at the heavens. “I wish I was a star,” she said aloud.

Loke reached over and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “But don’t you see,” he murmured, her eyes pulling to his. “You’re already a galaxy. You have universes trapped beneath your skin and stardust shining in your eyes. You are so much more than a star.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “What-What if I don’t want to be more than a star?” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Oh, Lucy,” Loke soothed, brushing away a tear that slid down her cheek.

“Loke,” she cried out, no longer able to hold back her sobs. “I-I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

He frowned as she began to cry, her shoulders shaking. “This isn’t the end,” he tried, wanting her to understand that she wouldn’t always feel this way.

“But what if I-I want it to be?”

Her words tore through Loke; the very thought of Lucy feeling so broken as to even consider the idea of no longer existing made his stomach drop. Had she truly fallen so far? Had the beautiful, shining blonde who always smiled become so grief-stricken as to even consider taking her life? The very idea nearly made him snap.

Loke reached out and pulled Lucy into his arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace as if he could hold her together. She wept into his chest, folding herself within him and hiding from the world. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his repetition glaring, but he wasn’t sure what the right words were to say.

“I-I wish I didn’t need y-you to tell me-e that,” she sputtered through her tears.

He pulled away then, needing to look at her, needing her to understand how serious he was being. Her confession terrified him. “You have me,” he promised sharply, wiping away her tears as quickly as they fell, holding her head between his hands. Her lips wobbled and her eyes were glassy. She reached up and held his hands, leaning into his touch. “You have me,” he repeated in a gentler tone. “Until every last star in the galaxy dies, you have me.”

Loke pulled her back into his arms and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her ragged breathing. He knew no matter what he said to her, nothing would lessen the impact of her pain. He could only sit there and hold her, offer her whatever she required of him, anything to help her smile again. Because ever since that day, the heavenly bodies didn’t shine as brightly.

Lucy’s cries soon lessened to whimpers, her tears drying up, and she finally settled down to shaky sighs. After a long moment, he pulled away and allowed space between them. He didn’t say anything, allowing her this moment of quiet.

The blonde tucked her hair behind her ears, smoothing it out as if to make herself more presentable. He didn’t know why. She had always been beautiful to him. He reached out and ran his thumb across her jaw, his eyes searching hers. “I’m here with you.”

She nodded silently, her eyes leaving him and searching the horizon again. Darkness had fully descended over Magnolia, and the sky was alight with the stars she loved so much.

Loke followed her gaze and then pointed into the sky. “Which constellation is that?”

Lucy easily found which stars he pointed to. “Saggitarius,” she murmured.

“And that one?” he asked, indicating another point in the sky.

She allowed a small smile. “Capricorn.”

He took her hand. “Every time you start to feel down, every time you begin to think of the end, I want you to look to the stars,” he said. “Name the constellations. Know that this world is so great and beautiful - and would be less-so if you were gone.”

Brown eyes met his, and for the first time since everything went to hell, Loke saw life flicker behind her gaze. Lucy was still there - no longer drowning, but still swimming, trying to get to shore.

[teleiapotami]

Phantom Lord, Fairy Feelings: Ch. 5

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Ship: Natsu/Lucy

Rating: T

Summary: Natsu has made the decision to put some distance him and Lucy, hoping to understand his feelings. The strength of them scares him, but what will his unexplained neglect do to his partner and their growing relationship?

->Chapter 5<-

Lucy curled her legs underneath her in the tub, waiting for Natsu. He was taking much longer to bring her clothes and a towel than she expected him to. She toyed with the idea of getting out on her own but didn’t want to upset the delicate understanding they had reached with one another. A soft knock at the doorframe startled her from her thoughts.

“Lu? Can I come in?” asked a soft voice that was definitely not Natsu. At her reply, Levy stepped through the curtain hugging the promised towel and clothing to her chest. “Natsu asked me to come. Here…” She handed Lucy the towel and set the clothing down on the counter to be ready if she needed to support her friend.

Lucy blinked at Levy in confusion. The towel she was given was warm, just as Natsu had promised It would be, so why wasn’t he the one handing it to her? She stood up carefully and wrapped herself in it before stepping out of the tub, holding Levy’s offered hand. Before she could find words in her confused mind, Levy spoke again.

“I’m sorry to intrude. Natsu said he needed to be somewhere and asked me to take his place with you. He said you aren’t ready to be on your own yet.” She stood beside the blonde, both hands lifted as a steadying force while Lucy pulled on her clothes.

“I’m much better than he’s letting on. Did…. Did he say how long he would be gone?” Levy shook her head in response and followed Lucy out into the living room. Despite being told he had left, Lucy still expected to find him sitting in his spot on the couch grumpily. The whole room felt emptier from his absence.

Climbing onto the bed together, Lucy smiled at the other girl. “Thanks for coming Levy. I can’t believe he actually left. It’s been days of him not even letting me walk to the bathroom on my own, and now he just vanishes?”

Levy smiled pulling her knees to her chest and facing her friend. “He looked….unlike himself. Not angry, but very serious. Determined and….withdrawn. I’ve never seen him like that. He looked….. he looked more like Gajeel than Natsu.”

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Levy….. Are there books in the guild archive about Dragons? Or Dragon magic?”

Levy pursed her lips as she thought. “I’m sure there must be some. Why?”

“I’m curious. I have questions that need answers. There have been some…..” she trailed off, unsure of how to explain. She didn’t want to share everything while there was still so much that she didn’t understand on her own. Luckily, Levy was an understanding friend.

“I get it. We all saw how close Natsu was to losing control when you came back from the cliffs. I’ll talk to Master Makarov and see if I can bring you some of the books while you are stuck here. Um…there’s also Gajeel. I know he isn’t the friendliest of people, but he might have some answers if we can’t find anything in the books.”

“Thanks, Levy. You’re the best!” Over the next three days, Levy brought Lucy books from the archive, and together they dug through anything and everything they could find about dragons. Histories, myths, legends, spell books, and even a few journals in ancient Mildian. Gray and Erza dropped in with food from Mira, and even Happy stayed the night with her once. Natsu never came back, and Levy said he had only been seen at the guild for brief moments before leaving again. “It’s just like how he was before you joined his team, Lu,” Levy told her.

On the day she was finally allowed to leave her house, Lucy bounced happily into the guild hall, looking for her team. She found them waiting for her at their usual table and her face split into a brilliant smile. She accepted a bone-crushing hug from Erza and offered a promise that she wouldn’t do something so reckless alone ever again.

“Even if it was pretty incredible. I don’t know a lot of wizards that have that much power, much less ones that could expel it all in one go and survive,” mused Gray, planting a heavy hand on her head.

“There aren’t many people like my Fairy Tail family that are worth doing it for,” she replied smiling. She sighed happily and looked around the hall. She stifled a giggle at the sight of Levy sitting beside Gajeel. He looked grumpy, but his sharp eyes never left Levy’s face as she read part of a book out loud to him. Her smile faltered as she searched the room for a flash of pink hair or a burst of flames and found nothing. She turned back to Erza and Gray questioningly.

Gray shrugged and Erza crossed her arms. “He hasn’t been in since yesterday at lunchtime. I was certain he would be here for your return,” the woman said thoughtfully.

  *~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

From then on, Lucy saw Natsu only on missions. He stopped coming to her house, and he no longer spent every minute hanging around the hall with her. When they interacted, he behaved as though nothing was wrong, but Lucy could feel a difference. Every time she tried to ask him why he seemed to be avoiding her, he would throw himself in the middle of a brawl with one friend or another.

He didn’t sneak into her rooms at the Akane Resort even once while they stayed there. She sat by his bedside as he recovered from his battle with Jellal, but he never woke up while she was near. At the Miss Fairy Tail Contest, she noticed him watching her. His black eyes were so intense that she thought she could feel them boring into her.

Master Makarov paired them up for the Fantasia parade, wanting them to work in conjunction with Gray and Juvia. “Fire and Light alongside Ice and Water!” the master cried joyfully. Natsu declined, claiming he was too injured from his fight with Laxus, and Lucy was reassigned.

On the rare occasion that he joined them at the guild, he would sit in relative silence, his eyes never leaving her as she moved. He was warm as always but kept a clear distance between them. He was welcoming but wouldn’t be near her alone. He was still there, whenever she might need him in a fight. He never let her get seriously hurt or separated from the group. He was still Natsu but…he wasn’t. And everywhere, his eyes followed her ceaselessly.

When she heard her Father’s life was in danger, she left without a thought or a word. Her Father was her responsibility, and the others were leaving for a job. The idea of taking on an entire dark guild alone was not one she was fully confident she could manage, but she had to try. Luckily, the Naked Mummy guild turned out to be a complete joke. She took them all out with no trouble at all.

Outside, her search for her father was interrupted by something moving in her periphery. A fast-moving blur shot across the sky above her and the air temperature increased by several degrees as Natsu dropped from Happy’s grip and landed behind her.

“Natsu!” she yelped as she whirled to face him. He was tense and looking around the area. The knights were arresting the defeated guildmembers behind her. “What are you doing—Ow, Natsu let go!” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the wooded area beside the merchant guild. His grip loosened slightly when she cried out in pain, but only slightly.

“Go back and tell the others I found her, Happy,” Natsu growled over his shoulder.

“Aye sir,” Happy replied, missing his usual enthusiasm. He eyed his friend apprehensively, then turned and flew away.

“Natsu, let me go! I need to find my dad,” Lucy said as she pulled against his grip again. He whirled on her, and his hands ran over her, searching for injuries. When he was satisfied, he grabbed her shoulders tightly. His eyes were intense as they searched her face. The longer he stared at her, the brighter she felt her face burn. “Say something, Natsu!”

“What were you thinking coming out here alone Lucy?  An entire dark guild on your own?!” His fingers were digging into her shoulders and his voice was shaking with thinly veiled anger.

“I….I came to save my dad. It was my business, not Fairy Tail’s, so I came alone. Now let me go! You’re hurting me!” She tried to pull out of his grip, but he pulled her against his chest tightly instead. “N….Natsu?”

“You scared me to death, Lucy. I turned around and you were gone. Don’t……don’t do that again,” he choked out, pressing his forehead against hers.

Lucy stared at him, confused emotions swirling inside her. He had been effectively ignoring her for months, but now he wanted her not to leave him behind. She pushed against his chest and stepped back. “I…I’m sorry I scared you. I’m fine, so just forget about it.” She turned and walked away, returning to her search for Jude.

Natsu had to force himself not to chase after her. Keeping her at arms-length was difficult enough when she wasn’t putting herself in unnecessary danger by running off without him. He had hoped that removing himself from her side would help to lessen whatever kind of madness she caused in him, but it simply didn’t. Being near her made him want her, more than he had ever wanted anything before, but being apart from her? Being away from Lucy made him need her. Worse, that need made him angry, irrational, and reckless.

More than once since deciding to take a step away from their developing relationship, Natsu had gotten himself hurt worse than he let on. He paid too much attention to Lucy’s fights and not his own. He knew she was tough and could usually handle herself, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to rip out the throat of anyone who dared attack her when he wasn’t there.

The Battle of Fairy Tail had been hell for him. At first, he delighted in the chance to battle it out with his friends. Lucy was safe enough as a statue, so he didn’t have to worry about her. But he hadn’t been able to join in at all. Worse, Lucy recovered and joined the battle without a second thought, brushing past his objections like they were nothing. Bickslow was lucky that Natsu had been trapped in the guild, else the Thunder Legion would have been short one member.  

Heaving a heavy sigh, Natsu trudged down the path, following Lucy. “Damn it…this is getting stupid,” he grumbled to himself. When he stepped out of the woods, Lucy was surrounded by three of the knights, answering questions. She was flustered and waving her hands, trying to take a step back. Natsu sidled up to stand at her side, just behind her and glowered at the looming trio. Two of them peeled away and left the captain to finish the interrogation.

“I suppose, even though you disobeyed a direct order not to approach, I can overlook it, since you defeated the guild and rescued the hostages. But I won’t be lenient the next time you do something so reckless,” the Captain barked at her. Lucy nodded and gave a feeble excuse of agreement, then let out a slow breath as he turned and rejoined the platoon.

“The whole guild on your own? Really? I thought the soldiers would have helped you,” Natsu said to her when she turned to face him.

“No, they stayed out because they were mages. So…yeah. On my own. You don’t have to act so surprised you know,” she huffed, crossing her arms, and sitting in the grass beside the road.

Natsu flopped down beside her. “I’m not surprised. I’m proud. You kicked some serious tail in there from what the groups were whispering.“ He jerked his head towards the freed hostages. She blushed under his praise and looked away from him. “Yeah, well…. I still didn’t find my Dad, so it was wasted effort anyway.

“Nah. You may not have saved your dad, but you saved hers.” He pointed at a little girl running into the arms of one of the men that Lucy had saved. “That makes all the effort worth it to me.” Lucy watched the small family with a wistful smile on her face.  

“Thanks Natsu…I really am sorry I worried you. I promise I won’t run off alone again without at least telling someone,” she said. Now that the excitement was over, she was feeling the effects of summoning four of her spirits back-to-back. She let herself relax, leaning slightly against Natsu’s side.

Instantly, Natsu felt his thoughts go a bit fuzzy as her scent overwhelmed him. Her normally light, freshly bathed scent was heavy with the sweat from her exertions and travel. It made his need for her swell rapidly within him and he hurriedly shifted away, putting some distance between them to end the contact. He looked away from her quickly, but not fast enough to miss the hurt, confusion, and frustration flash through her eyes.

“Lucy… I,” he began, but she stood up and dusted the grass off her skirt.

“It’s fine, Natsu. I get it,” she said dismissively, then she planted her hands on her hips and shouted, “THERE you are Dad!” Natsu watched her run over to the man walking up the road and give him what looked like a sound tongue lashing. He sighed. She gets it? If that’s true, I wish she’d explain it to me…

  *~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Shortly after returning from Edolas, Lucy had had enough. She was tired of trying to understand what went wrong in their friendship. She was tired of the fragile air that surrounded them during downtime on missions. Most of all, she was tired of his dark, intense eyes boring holes into the back of her every second of the day. She needed a break.

She’d asked Mira to grab one of the jobs from the board and save it for her. A caravan was lost in the forests surrounding Beanstalk Village. The job was to find them and escort them safely back home to Clover. Now she stood in front of Fairy Hills, the dormitories that housed most of the ladies of Fairy Tail. The door opened and Wendy waved for her to come in.

“It’s girls only, so even Happy can’t come here. Will you tell me what the secret is now?” Wendy asked. Lucy had only told her that she had a secret request to make of her, Juvia, and Erza. Lucy followed the girl into one of the common rooms where the other girls were sitting.

“Hello, Lucy! I don’t think I have ever seen you here in Fairy Hills,” called Erza. Lucy grinned and sat down in an armchair beside her friends.

“I haven’t been here before, but this seemed like the best place to escape….. Well, to have a private conversation.” No one asked what she was trying to escape. They had all seen the way Natsu simultaneously followed and avoided her. Erza and Wendy in particular were witnesses to the toll it had taken on her over the months.

“As long as your plan doesn’t involve seducing my darling Gray, I am happy to assist,” Juvia said warningly. Lucy shook her head.

“It never has, and it never will Juvia! No, I would like to get away from here for a while, and I wondered if you girls would join me for a search and rescue job near Beanstalk Village,” She pulled the folded request from her pocket and offered it to the group.

Erza looked it over and nodded curtly. “I have no issue going with you. It seems a fine job for our Wendy to get some practice in as well.” Wendy blushed and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. Only Juvia looked reluctant.

“This job….it is probably going to take at least a week, most likely more…” Juvia said slowly. Lucy nodded. “I don’t want to leave my darling for that long. And I have a different mission planned with Gajeel coming up. I wish I could help you, Lucy, I’m sorry.”

“I understand Juvia. You can still help me by making sure Natsu doesn’t follow me.” Juvia nodded at the blonde and looked thoughtful.

Erza stood up. “I can help with that too. I will make it known that we are leaving for a job near Crocus. Never let it be said that the women of Fairy Tail don’t support each other!” she declared dramatically. Lucy giggled and the group huddled back together to plan out their departure and cover story.

  *~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The next morning, Erza and Lucy stood on the platform of the train station with Gray and Natsu. Wendy and Carla were aboard already, Wendy didn’t have it in her to try and keep secrets from anyone, especially Natsu.

“A week or two, yeah? If you’re not back by then, I’ll come looking for ya,” Gray said with a smirk, meeting Erza’s eyes momentarily. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped back as the train blew a warning whistle. Lucy adjusted her grip on her suitcase and turned toward the train, but a calloused hand caught her forearm suddenly.

Natsu stepped closer to her and spoke softly, not looking at her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come? Two weeks is a long time to be alone with Erza.” Lucy suppressed a shiver at his proximity. He was standing closer to her now than he had in months.

She stepped back, putting some distance between them again. “It’s a long time to be alone with you too Natsu. We will be fine. I have to go,” she said in a clipped tone. He winced inwardly at her statement. She stepped back again and smiled at both boys before following Erza onto the train.

Gray stepped over to him as he waved at Wendy through the window. “If you didn’t want her to do stuff without you, you probably shouldn’t have pushed her away,” he said flatly. Natsu frowned and hunched his shoulders against the criticism.

“Nobody asked you, ya icy pervert. Where the hell are your pants?” Without waiting for an answer he took off, leaving the train station behind. Lucy would be fine, he tried to assure himself. She had Erza and Wendy. Besides that, it was only an item retrieval job from what Juvia had told Gray. His biggest issue with the situation was why Lucy wanted to go without him in the first place.

He hadn’t been trying to push her away, only to put a firm, friendly barrier between them. He needed to understand why the scent of her drove him to extremes, or why not being able to find her when he looked sent him into an angry panic. Maybe the distance would be a good thing. Maybe not having the urge to find her would give him time to really study his feelings. Even as he tried to convince himself it would be worth it he felt the pain at her absence twinge. It’s going to be a long two weeks…

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[raijindork]

Souls & Spirits - Ch. 60

Summary: Everything seems to fall into place when the right  person comes into your life. That was what Bickslow realised, anyway,  but if it hadn’t been for them getting paired up for a job together, he  never would have realised that Lucy was that right person who would  light up his world in ways he never thought possible. Pairing: BixLu Rating: T/M (Mostly T. Explicit chapters marked.) Words: 5000~ Read on FF.Net.

After several years, the final chapter has arrived.

“You’re a little asshole, you know that?”

Bickslow gasped dramatically, quickly covering his son’s ears with his hands. “You take that back!”

Laxus puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. “No,” he insisted. “Hunter’s an asshole.”

“He’s nine months old!”

“Yeah, and he’s an asshole,” Laxus once again insisted, leaning down just to ruffle his newphew’s short cobalt hair. “Aren’t ya, buddy?”

Hunter merely looked up at Laxus for a moment and started giggling, his tongue just barely peeking past his lips. The first time Bickslow had seen that Hunter had managed to pick up that particular trait, it had been in the middle of the guild a few months early, and at first, he’d thought it was just a coincidence. But then it had happened again, and again, and then Lucy had seen it and berated him for a week for teaching their child bad habits. Now though, Bickslow couldn’t help but feel a little proud every time he saw his son do his little tongue wag.

“He’s not an asshole,” Bickslow argued though, finally taking his hands away from Hunter’s ears—he’d heard far worse anyway, much to Lucy’s annoyance—just to sit back on the soft, cushioned floor of the guild’s new playroom. “Jax is an asshole.”

Laxus straightened back up and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Now you take that back. Jax isn’t an asshole, Hunter is—“

“Your kids are both fuckin’ assholes,” Gajeel groaned from the other side of the room, his daughter on his lap with one of Levy’s Rune Basics books in front of them both. Gajeel had argued it was too advanced for a kid who wasn’t even two, but he’d lost that war the second it had begun. “Just like their fathers. So both of you, shut it.”

“Ash-hole!” Gajeel’s daughter said triumphantly. Bickslow and Laxus paled when the toddler grinned and began triumphantly echoing her new favourite word. “Ash-hole, ash-hole, ash-hole!” she said.

Laxus wasted no time in scooping up his own toddler under one arm and making a quick departure, mumbling something about going and hiding behind the bar as he went. Bickslow could only laugh nervously as Gajeel continued to glare at him. It was probably a miracle that Hunter wasn’t old enough to talk yet or he’d be saying the same things. “Look, it’s not my fault,” Bickslow defended himself. He would maybe admit he was part of the problem, but it was most definitely not entirely his fault. It was Laxus’ fault, too. “Technically, you said it too.”

“I’m telling Shrimp it was you,” Gajeel said.

“You wouldn’t.”

Gajeel grinned menacingly. “I would.”

And Bickslow knew all too well what that meant. Gajeel would tell Levy, Levy would tell Lucy, and Lucy would… Well, Lucy would yell at him for teaching their friends’ kids bad habits, too. “Hundred jewels and you blame Laxus,” Bickslow offered instead. He didn’t really want to give Lucy more reason to yell at him. She’d only just stopped yelling at him for breaking the living room window a week earlier whilst playing with the babies and Hunter. Granted, it had been snowing all of that week and getting it replaced had taken a few days, but Bickslow really didn’t like it when she yelled at him. She terrified him.

“Two hundred and deal.”

Bickslow would, of course, take that deal. It was a bit of a bargain, especially by Gajeel’s standards. Two hundred jewel was merely a fraction of how much the guitar he’d had to replace all those years ago had cost him. Still, Bickslow groaned as he pulled himself up off the plush mat for a moment just to fish the crumpled jewel notes out of the inside of his cloak and toss them loosely in Gajeel’s direction.

“Pleasure doing business with my, my friend,” Gajeel said, cackling as his pocketed the money and turned the page for his daughter.

Bickslow sighed again and rolled his eyes, turning his own attention back to Hunter still giggling a little too maniackly for his own tastes as he slammed the poor totems into each other. “Yeah, yeah,” Bickslow grumbled under his breath. “Now who’s the asshole, huh?” Only assholes used blackmail as a threat, and Bickslow seemed to know all too well that it was Gajeel’s way of getting under everyone’s skin.

“Ash-hole!” Gajeel’s daughter giggled again.

That time, as Gajeel glared at him and no doubt plotted a murder, Bickslow could only grin sheepishly as he took a page from Laxus’ book, jumping up, grabbing his son, and leaving the playroom as fast as possible. “It’s not my fault!”

###

Lucy stirred awake at the sound of the lock being turned and she stretched her arms above her head just as Bickslow made it inside into and into the dark foyer. “What time is it?” she asked, straining as she stretched out her hands.

“Late,” Bickslow sighed, shutting the door behind himself gently. Hunter would be fast asleep at the other end of that hall and the last thing Bickslow wanted to do was wake him up. Bickslow wasn’t sure what it was about four-year-olds being allergic to bedtimes and sleep, but he knew from experience that getting his son to bed was a nightmare and he didn’t want to wake him unnecessarily. He could wait until morning to see his son. “Too late.”

Lucy didn’t have her keys nearby to check the time, but the street outside was quiet—no quiet conversations just outside in the street as party goers and bar patrons made their way home—so she knew to take Bickslow’s word for it. She shifted slightly, scooting to the front edge of the lounge and then patting the soft back cushions behind her. “Come here,” she said.

The lounge certainly wasn’t big enough for the two of them, but Bickslow would indulge his wife for a few moments in the peace and quiet and quickly kicked off as much excess clothing as he could. His boots, cloak, belt, and wrist guards sat in a pile by the foot of the sofa, and he groaned from aching muscles and a growing bruise on his shoulder as he carefully climbed into the crampled space behind her on the comfortable lounge. Lucy always smelled of home—those days it was apricot body scrub—and he closed his eyes as he buried his face in her hair.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stay at home forever, with you and Hunter and the babies and all those annoying spirits of yours.“

“They’re not annoying, thank you,” Lucy scoffed.

He smiled and chuckled quietly as Lucy elbowed him gently in his stomach. “They are annoying. Especially Loke. And to think I kept his secret for all that time.”  

As if to prove Bickslow’s point, Loke cleared his throat from the foot of the sofa, by Bickslow’s clothes. “We are not annoying,” the spirit insisted, pushing his glasses back up his nose at Bickslow’s groan and Lucy’s giggling. “I merely aim to help make Lucy’s life slightly more tolerable and assist in any way I can. Although, given that she married you and refuses to divorce you after all this time, I’m not sure my best efforts really do much.”

“Loke, man. Come on. You hurt me.”

“Oh, no. What a shame.”

Bickslow didn’t miss the spirit’s grin before returning to his own world. He doubted he’d ever be best of friends with his wife’s prized spirit, but after several years together, Bickslow could almost say that Loke summoning himself at inopportune moments just to annoy him wasn’t actually that annoying after all. Still, he would go to the grave calling Lucy’s spirits annoying.

“See? Not annoying,” Lucy giggled. “And, you can’t stay at home forever. I can’t stay at home forever either.”

Bickslow sighed into Lucy’s shoulder. He knew. He knew it was unreasonable. It was just as unreasonable as them leaving the guild before Hunter had been born. Sometimes, part of him still wouldn’t have minded giving up his job—just stop working as a mage, and find a normal, safe job somewhere. He still wouldn’t have been able to stay at home every second of every day then, but he wouldn’t go days, sometimes weeks without seeing his family.

The list of moments and firsts he’d missed grew longer each time he took a job. Lucy’s, too. He’d missed the birth of his son. Lucy had missed Hunter’s first steps. They’d both missed his first words that weren’t just complete gibberish that not even Freed or Levy could decipher. And, Bickslow wanted to say that the next baby would be different, when they came in just a few more months, but he knew it wouldn’t be the case.

“I know I can’t,” Bickslow said. “But I want to.”

“I know you do.”

“Thanks for not divorcing me yet, though. Honestly a miracle you haven’t.”

Lucy laughed, and she turned on the sofa so she could face Bickslow and press soft kissed to his cheek and his lips. “Maybe next year,” she promised. “Happy anniversary, Pixie.”

“Happy anniversary, Cosplayer. I’m sorry we missed another one.”

She kissed the tip of his nose gently. “Don’t be. It’s fine.” As far as Lucy was concerned, they had plenty more ahead of him. Missing a couple was nothing. “But, I did get a little something. Freed called earlier this morning to let me know you probably wouldn’t home until late. Help me up, will you?”

Bickslow didn’t get much of a chance to process Freed being one step ahead of him as he helped Lucy up, and watched her disappear back into the dining and kitchen. She came back a few moments later with a pink cake box, a glass bottle, and some glasses.

“Now, I know it wasn’t for our first date, but, it’s still one of my favourite dates.” Bickslow couldn’t stop grinning as Lucy laid out the plain chocolate cake, save from the messily frosted five in the middle, and popped the cork on the large bottle. Lucy didn’t miss the concerned look he gave her when she poured the liquid into the glasses, and quickly said, “Sparkling apple juice!”

“Cake and wine—well, apple juice,” he chuckled, pulling himself up from the couch just to drag Lucy back onto his lap and smother her with even more kisses. “I love it. I love you. You know, I’m pretty sure I was in love with you then, too.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know? How did you know?”

“You’ve told me,” Lucy answered, giggling around a mouthful of rich chocolate cake. “A few times, actually.”

Bickslow scowled as he snatched away the fork Lucy had been using to pick up the next piece of cake, shovelling it in his own mouth before she could take it back. “Well, fine. But it’s true anyway. Probably.” He shrugged, leaning back into the sofa with another bite of cake. “All I know is, I must have been super fucking in love with you to willingly get hurt that many times. All by this very date, by the way,” Bickslow said, energetically gesturing between themselves and the food on the coffee table.  

Lucy gawked at him. “I never hurt you.” Well, apart from those times where he was helping her train down in Hargeon, but Lucy didn’t count those.

“No, you didn’t. But your team sure did.”

“Oh, yeah? When?”

“Well, there was that time I pissed off Gajeel—“

“Gajeel isn’t with my team,” Lucy pointed out quickly.

Bickslow dismisseed it with a slight shake of his head and roll of his eyes. “No, he’s not. But I broke his guitar and he broke my nose.”

Lucy smiled, a soft turn of her lips that almost had Bickslow concerned. “Oh, I remember that one. That didn’t have anything to do with me though.”

“It kinda did.”

“Yeah? How so?” Lucy snorted.

“Well, it was right after I’d properly asked you out. So, you know…” His cheeks warmed as he lifted the glass of apple juice, hiding behind it some as he tried to sink further into the sofa and away from Lucy’s growing smirk. “I was happy and shit,” Bickslow said bashfully.

Lucy had to cover her mouth from squealing and laughing too loud, lest she wake Hunter up just down the hall. She was vaguely aware of the fact that it was a miracle they hadn’t already woken him. “Aww,” she crooned. She leaned into Bickslow’s side, squeezing his cheek and making it just that little bit more red. “You were happy, huh?”

Bickslow groaned and pouted. “Yes, I was, thank you.” He rolled his eyes and tried to fight off the infectious smile when Lucy giggled again and pressed light kisses against his cheek. “Anyway, the point is, it was your fault I got into trouble with Gajeel, because I had a major crush on you obviously, was super fucking happy because you, for some fucking reason, agreed to actually go out with me, and I was doing dumb shit because I felt on top of the world. Okay?”

“That’s adorable.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is,” Lucy giggled. She settled into his side comfortably, resting the cake box on her lap and offering a bite to her husband. “You’re still on top of the world though, I hope?”

“Oh, abso-fucking-lutely,” Bickslow mumbled around the cake. He didn’t need to think about that answer.

“What about the other two then?”

“Well, then there was that time that Erza threatened me with her swords.” He couldn’t help but grimace slightly. “You know, for the time I apparently stole your first kiss in the guild, in front of everyone, because I couldn’t figure out a way to talk to you in the guild without making everyone question just why the fuck I was talking to you in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lucy said. “She made you come apologise in the middle of the night.”

Bickslow nodding, sipping on the fizzy juice. “I still have that scar on my hand, you know.”

“No you don’t. I’ve seen your hands.”

Maybe not physically. “Fine,” he conceded. “Anyway, then there was that time after our third date, where I stayed over but then Natsu came to your apartment in the morning and he threw me into your coffee table.”

“I really liked that table too…” Lucy mumbled.

“It was a table.”

“But it was a nice table. It was one of the first things I bought when I moved to Magnolia…” Granted, it really hadn’t been the fanciest table—it was a coffee table, and a plain and cheap one at that. But it had been something she’d done on her own.

But, Bickslow understood that. “I know it was,” he said softly, tilting to rest his cheek against the top of her head for a moment. “But, and I may be biased, but I think I was a pretty damn nice boyfriend.”

Lucy scrunched up her nose, shrugging slightly. “Eh… Better boyfriend than husband, sure.”

“Excuse me?” Bickslow feigned his shock, pulling himself away abruptly. There was a glint in Lucy’s eyes and a smirk plastered on her lips. “And how would you know, huh? Who you comparin’ me to? I know for a fact I’ve been your only boyfriend, ever, Cosplayer.” He wore that badge with pride. Weirdly.

“Yeah, and I know for a fact that you never had a proper girlfriend before me, either,” Lucy said, prodding the Seith mage in the chest.

“…Okay, fair point. But, you did marry me, so at the very least, you thought I was a good enough boyfriend five years ago.”

“Maybe I just didn’t know any better,” Lucy said, almost wistfully as she settled back against her loving husband. “Alas, you knocked me up so now I’m stuck with you… Oh, the misery.”

“Mm. Poor you,” Bickslow agreed. His hands were by Lucy’s waist, poised and ready. “Poor, miserable, Lucy.” He didn’t give Lucy a chance to get away before he tickled her ribs, wrapping his other arm back around her waist as she squealed and planting soft kisses all over her cheek and lips. “I don’t know how you cope, Cosplayer. Being stuck with me, your doting, loving husband, and our wonderful son, and another perfect child, and let’s not forget all of your niblings and my sisters and… Yeah, actually, never mind. I feel sorry for anyone who has to know those two fuckwits.”

Lucy snorted. Years later, she still found the feigned animosity between the Alderwood siblings all too amusing. “My life is just so horrible.”

“So very horrible.”

She craned her neck to look up at him, a soft smile on her lips that reached her eyes and she kissed him again gently. Sometimes, Lucy still just loved sitting there on the couch with Bickslow, on the quiet and late nights, and forgetting—even if it was just for a moment—that a world existed beyond them. The quiet nights were rare, but when they did happen, Lucy cherished them. Her heart was full—Bickslow’s too, she knew—and when Bickslow grinned down at her, with the same goofy, wide grin he’d had since their first date and that their son had woefully inherited, she still felt those gentle butterflies in her stomach.

But, as happy as Lucy was in the warm bubble of her husband’s hug, the sickly sweet scents of apple juice and cake could only mask so much. “You need to go have a shower,” she said, “and we need to go to bed. I’m definitely not falling asleep on this lounge with you, either.”

Bickslow knew better than to disagree, and he was sure his spine would thank him anyway.

###

"Harper! Get back down here!” Bickslow shouted up towards the guildhall’s rafters. “Don’t make me come up there,” he threatened, only causing the small girl clinging to the wooden beams to giggle even louder.

Beside him, Laxus snickered into his fourth cup of coffee for the morning. “You know Blondie’s going to be back any minute now and she’s going to kick your ass if Harps doesn’t have both feet on the ground,” he said.

“I know,” Bickslow said through gritted teeth, continuing to glare up at his daughter twenty feet above them. The second Lucy had left the guild to grab some extra supplies in town for the parade later that night, Harper had run straight for the rafters. The girl had turned four barely six months earlier, but she was already double the menace Hunter had ever been at the same age. But Bickslow narrowed his gaze to the five totems circling Harper, bobbing up and down in the air. “Babies, you know better.”

“Harp! Fly! Harp! Fly!” the babies cheered.

But, Bickslow didn’t get much more of a chance to yell at the babies for taking too many orders from a four-year-old, or try and convince said four-your-old to come back down on her own before he felt a sharp pain in the side of his head from someone getting a fistful of his hair and tugging on it. “Ow, ow—“

“Why in the world is my child hanging from a beam?” Lucy demanded, one hand on her hip as she tugged forcefully on her husband’s hair, having him leaning over just to lessen the pain. It wasn’t her fault he refused to cut it though; if he’d merely let Cancer give him a trim she wouldn’t be able to yank on his hair that was just about long enough it needed to be tied up.

“It’s not my fault!” Bickslow said. He was keenly aware of Laxus snickering at him, and he was sure he could hear the familiar giggling of his daughter above him too.

“Then why do I see the babies up there, huh?”

“Because they keep listening to her!” Bickslow winced, trying to pry his wife’s fingers out of his hair. He didn’t need to glance at her to see the fury that was no doubt aimed at him.

Still, Bickslow would maintain that it wasn’t really his fault. His daughter just really had a knack for bossing the babies about—more than Hunter had ever been able to, and more than Lucy had ever been able to as well. He’d tried telling his babies to just stop helping the damn kid get into mischief too, and it had worked for all of about five minutes, but then Harper had wanted the babies to help her get into the tree in their backyard one day, the babies had refused, Harper had started bawling her eyes out and before Bickslow had had a chance to figure out why his daughter had been having a tantrum, she’d been swinging happily from a tree branch with the babies giggling around her. He’d even tried taking the babies out of their bodies when they were at home, too, but hiding the babies from his daughter didn’t work too well when Harper could, in fact, see them anyway. That much, Bickslow wasn’t too fond of. Lucy, however, had just about wet herself from excitement from finding out her then almost four-year-old had inherited at least some Seith magic. She’d been just a little disappointed when Hunter hadn’t, but that disappointed had quickly dissipated once he’d borrowed Lucy’s Canis Minor key whilst playing and claimed it for his own.

Of course though, Lucy knew she couldn’t do much in the way of Bickslow’s babies doing whatever it was their precious spider monkey asked of them. That was, as far as Lucy was concerned, entirely a Bickslow issue. So, she let go of his hair, finally, crossing her arms over her chest instead. “Harper, honey,” she said gently. The festival parade was beginning in a few more hours and truthfully, the last thing Lucy wanted to be doing was having to coax her child down to the ground again. She had a float to finish decorating! “Come on down now, please. Aunt Mira will make you a nice big milkshake if you come down now!”

“No!” Harper shouted, shaking her head as she continued to cling to the beam.

Sometimes, not that Bickslow would admit it, it was tempting to just let his daughter do what she pleased, mostly because when she got what she wanted she was happy and his childrens’ laughter had long since replaced Lucy’s on his list of favourite things in the world. But even high above him, Bickslow could see the devilish little grin on her mouth and hear her giggling at them because she damn well knew she was in trouble and enjoyed it far too much for reasons that Bickslow would never understand, and even if Harper might as well have been a miniature version of Lucy, he knew for a fact that she got the attitude entirely from him. His sisters had made sure of telling him that the last time they’d visited.

But, while Lucy was fine just promising milkshakes, Bickslow knew it was time to pull out his trump card. “Harps, if you don’t get down here right now, we’re not going to watch the parade tonight,” he said.

Harper sat up, gasping. Even Lucy was a little surprised at his threat. But Bickslow meant business. Sure, he didn’t want to miss the parade, or even the fireworks from his favourite rooftop in town, because he’d not missed a single year since the guild had gotten back together, but Bickslow wasn’t really sure what else he could do to get his daughter to come back down to earth.

“No see Mama?” Harper asked.

Bickslow shook his head. “Nope. No fireworks either. And it won’t be just you that doesn’t get to see the parade or Mama or the fireworks. Hunter won’t be able to go either. You don’t want Hunter to miss out, do you?”

And for a moment, Bickslow thought he’d finally won. It was an offer too good to refuse in his eyes, and as Harper sat quietly, he knew it would be just a few more seconds before she was telling the babies to take her back down to the ground. But then she leant back down to hug the beam, shaking her head again. “Nope! I stay,” she said instead.

“Harps! Stay!” the babies cheered.

When Lucy flicked his ear and muttered something about their kids being brats, Bickslow knew he’d deserved it.

###

Lucy squealed the second arms were wrapped around her middle, and her straw hat when flying in the gentle breeze when she was pulled down onto the soft picnic blanket. “Stop doing that!” she giggled, swatting Bickslow’s arms away and doing her best to wriggle out of his soft grip just to try and fetch her lost hat. “I’m going to hurt you one day, you know that.”

Bickslow shrugged, grinning as he instead leant back on his hands. Sneaking up on Lucy from behind was, undoubtedly, one of his favourite things. “You have before,” he reminded her. As far as he was concerned, it was an occupational hazard. Still, it had been years since she’d last impulsively swung at him, thinking he was just some random creep.

“Fine,” Lucy admitted. With her hat back on her head, shielding her from the harsh summer sun, she sneaked a glance back to her children playing in the field—Hunter was chasing Harper around, with Plue doing its best to keep up—before joining her husband on the blanket and stealing a gentle kiss. “But you’ve deserved it, each time.”

Across the field, Hunter only groaned as he looked over to his parents at an inopportune time. “Ugh, gross!”

Bickslow rolled his eyes at him, all but ignoring the growing blush on Lucy’s cheeks as he did his best to irritate his child even further and take Lucy’s cheek in his palm and kiss her again. The park was mostly empty, aside from a few stragglers, and Bickslow had never cared about being affectionate in public. “Go play, babies,” he murmured, smiling against Lucy’s lips, and when he distinctly heard his son yell at them to quit being gross, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, fine, stop your whining. Jeez.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy said, an airy giggle escaping as she instead accepted just leaning into his side. “We’ll have time for that later. Hunter wants to have a sleepover with Jax tomorrow. As long as you let Harps have the babies for a little bit we’ll be able to sneak away for a few minutes.”

“It’d be better if we could have no kids for a night, but I guess one is fine for a night.”

“Hey,” Lucy laughed, elbowing him in his side. “You’re the one that had baby fever, remember? You don’t get to complain about them now.”

“But that’s for babies,” Bickslow whined. “Teenagers are annoying.”

“We only have one teenager. And only barely.” Although, the fact that her baby boy was officially a teenager did have Lucy feeling just a little wistful from time to time. He’d been so small once, and now there he was, just about taller than her and rolling his eyes at any form of affection she tried to offer him.

“Still counts.”

Lucy tried not to roll her eyes. “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled.

“Speaking of no kids for a night though,” Bickslow began after a moment, trying not to get too distracted by figuring out just what his children were yelling at each other about. “Picked up another job flyer today. Thought we could do it together. I’m sure we could get someone to watch the kids for a day.”

Lucy couldn’t even remember the last time they’d gone on a job, just the two of them. It had been years, at least—before Harper had been born, even. It had been easier when it had just been Hunter. Getting a babysitter or timing it with a sleepover had been fine. But once they’d had Harper, Lucy had just never really liked the idea of leaving the kids without both of their parents for a day or two. But, Hunter was older, and Harper was nearly nine. Leaving them with someone else for a day or two would be different, surely. “Maybe,” Lucy hummed. “What kind of job?”

“Just this small gang that’s taken up residence there, I think. Nothing major.”

“Where is it?”

“Cartervale.”

The corner of her mouth twisted up into a soft smile, and Lucy wasn’t the least bit surprised to turn back to Bickslow and find him grinning at her. “Cartervale, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I guess if it’s just a quick job…” Lucy picked herself up from the blanket, readjusting her hat quickly. It’d been years since she’d even heard Cartervale, but now all Lucy could think about was whether that one little inn still existed. “Should probably still go ask the kids to see if they’d be okay with both of us leaving for a couple days, though…”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bickslow wasn’t going to tell Lucy that he was pretty sure that Hunter probably wanted both of them to leave him alone for a couple days, because she probably already knew it.

He could only watch with with a wide, tongue-hanging grin as Lucy slowly backed away, onto the soft grass and towards the open field where their children were. She was up to something, he knew; the cogs in her brain were ever turning, and the less than innocent smirk on her lips still occasionally had his heart skipping a beat. But Bickslow waited, just for a few more moments, before he rose to his feet, only giving Lucy a chance to sneak up and join in on the fun their children were having, before he went and chased after them all.

[gruviasilversblog]

Fanfic: Juvia and Friends Ch 28, Fairy Tail | FanFiction

¡Hola a todos!

Aquí les dejo el nuevo capítulo de Juvia and Friends.

La protagonista de este capítulo es Mavis.

¡Espero les guste!

Es uno de mis capítulos favoritos. Amé escribir de Juvia y Mavis!

El próximo capítulo contará con Makarov y así acabarán las brotps de Juvia con los miembros de Fairy Tail y empezaré con otro gremio.

He decidido no poner nada con Gray y Gajeel por obvias razones. Pero nunca se sabe.

Voy capítulo por capítulo así que todo puede pasar.

¡Muchas gracias a quien lee y comenta y hasta pronto!

[cosmicfates]

"Ooooooooohhh Husband~" / for gajeel. sorry wife has been away to war.

Who knows when the Dragon will next let her leave.

"Hello to ya too, my flower, did ya miss me as much as I've missed ya?"

He knew she had of course, Gajeel would always know his wife missed him. He'd lean forward and press a gentle kiss to her cheek, her other cheek, her neck, behind her ear, both her cheeks again, before grabbing her face and kissing her properly. Once he was done kissing her he's picking her up into his arms, and walking into the living room at their house to sit down holding her.

"Hopefully ya ain't plannin' on tryin' to escape for a while cause I ain't 'bout to let ya go, Rav."

No, she was very much going to have a very large Dragon following her through the house, probably clinging more to her when they slept too. He missed her and he was going to make that HER problem.

[everyonehappy]

[everyjuvia]

Juvia gets hate for this moment, but considering that that she's still in a "transition period" and this

is the guild she has spent an unknown amount of her teenage or maybe even childhood years (she's only 17 at the start of the story) with these people

being the closest things to a best friend & a parental / guardian figure (as far as we know), it's only natural that she still needs to adjust & unlearn some habits

considering the heavily implied lack / deficiency of normal human interaction in her past before joining the Phantom Lord guild, casually threatening someone might be what Juvia considers a "small talk" at this point in her life

[aashi-heartfilia]

Hi I was wondering do you think , you do headcanon's in the future? Also what you think gonna happen next in bnha( I heard the author has extended bnha for year?) Also any ideas what's going to next in fairy tail 100year request?

Hi, Sorry for the late answer. My exams were going on and this ask was lying in my drafts. So, without further ado here we go:

BnHA Manga Prediction:

Currently we are in ch 392 and things are really gonna escalate from here. I feel like we'll get at least 2-3 chapters more before we finally conclude our TogaChako battle. After that we'll jump to All Might vs AFO where he might not be able to win but he'll stall enough time. Then we'll complete our other remaining battles like that Aoyama one and then we'll have our fated Shigaraki vs Deku battle. But then AFO reaches Shigaraki overpowering Deku and When Deku is in a clutch, Katsuki will come to his rescue, Heroes Rising style and they both defeat Shigaraki AFO.

FAIRYTAIL 100 YQ: PREDICTION

With the current chapter, even I'm curious as to what's going on in the creator's head. It was going so smoothly until this arc. I predicted the Aquarius key being in that labyrinth somewhere but that never happened, so my next best guess was this arc, since it's a city where precious jewels and alchemy material is found and what are celestial keys if not precious artefacts?

But with Sabertooth in the equation, I'm not sure which direction Hiro Mashima is going for. The opponents are being defeated way too easily. We didn't even have a proper battle ever since this arc started. Just more and more lore that seems to have no meaning behind it whatsoever. I just don't get it!

Plus, Yukino getting SD? Yikes! I feel like Mashima wanted to bring some old cast back for nostalgia and show their development but had no idea what to do exactly with them either. Yukino does not know about her own guild but she's suddenly capable of doing SD? She didn't need to break a key like Lucy but it should at least have a proper reasoning behind it. It feels so underwhelming and undeserved right now.

Plus, ever since they have returned the Sabertooth membera are only being used for gags and stuff.

The only real battle we had was Lucy and Yukino vs Athena and that too was more of a joke on us readers.

When they brought Laxus and Gajeel back for the Great Labyrinth arc, at least they had proper roles!

So just like everyone, even I'm curious as to what will happen next. But one thing's for sure, Lucy will shine in every arc she gets because she's the Queen and Mashima's latest sketch proves that!

I'll write a proper blog on this later.

Till then, see ya!

~Thanks for reading

Cheers! Sunshine

[kiliinstinct]

Chapter 28:

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] Thanks to @phoenix-before-the-flame for their awesome Beta work, as usual. March Post Dates: 15th and the 28th (Yes, my Birthday!) April Post Dates: To Be Decided

When Gajeel was finally questioned, it was days after he'd willingly been led through the gates and brought into the dungeons. His cooperation led to an easy time of sitting around in proper chairs and choosing his own cot to bunk in, all while Kage sulked in his renewed prison. The shackles that scraped his wrists and ankles were a formality more than anything else; One he seemed unbothered by. 

His interrogation wasn’t in the official chambers where Makarov sought counsel with Erza, Laxus and Mirajane days before. Instead, when Laxus came to retrieve him, eyes narrowed and posture full of unspoken threats, he'd been led to a small room in the depths of the keep, where the draconis assumed was their chief’s private quarters.

While this was a curious turn of events for him, what made his studded brows rise was when Laxus irritably slammed the door behind him, leaving Gajeel alone with the short chieftain and no one else. The room was cramped, too small to host many occupants regardless, but he didn't even hear the click of the door lock. 

“Have a seat.” Makarov drawled, mustache twitching as he glanced his way. He was seated behind a grand red oak desk that filled nearly half the room. Tomes in messy piles and stacked parchments littered its surface, with odd knick knacks and baubles that didn’t quite fit thrown into the mix. He casually motioned to one other seat that Gajeel had almost missed. And rightly so, it was nothing more than the tiniest of stools, splintered beyond belief and standing on rickety legs despite the ashy burn marks that littered its surface: a stool made for a child.

“Yeah, no. Not sittin’ on that,” Gajeel replied dryly, leaning against the doorframe instead, “you sure about having me in a room alone with you, old man?”

“Why?” Makarov lowered his hand, confidence gleaming in his eyes, “Do you think you pose a danger to me?“

He shrugged, “Dunno, do I?” Lifting his shackled hands he bared his teeth in a sardonic grin, “or these give ya a sense of security?“

The old man's chuckle as he relaxed into his chair made Gajeel frown. Was he missing something here?

”I didn’t take you as a man to make jokes. If you were going to attempt anything, I think you would have already. A man of your strength could break those shackles in minutes.“

'Not even that.' He thought idly, but brushed the words aside as more thoughts gripped him, ”What would you know of my strength?“

”Boy,“ There was a near irresistible urge to snarl that Gajeel swallowed in the back of his throat, body bristling in offense, ”I've three clansmen all with the blood of Draconis in them. Surely you know that they scented you the moment you came near our walls?“

A chink in Gajeel's facade was finally made. His grin faltered with his confidence. Of course, he didn't doubt they'd catch a whiff of him if he'd smelled them, but to have passed that information along already? They were quick. The element of surprise was now lost, and that disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

”That ruins my fun,“ He snorted, arms crossing in disdain, the shackles clacked together.

Another soft chuckle left Makarov as he propped his short legs on the edge of his desk, managing to look more indifferent than the large draconis had been. “I’ve been informed of your attunement. Metal I believe? Erza’s report of your camp was quite thorough.“

His eye twitched before he could control himself: another chink added.

”So I was right.“ He whistled, watching Gajeel with a keen eye that felt as if it were seeing straight through his mind. “A fascinating element to wield no doubt.”

When speaking with Jose, their banter always felt like a dance around threats and subtle digs of information towards one another. As if the other clan leader was always looking for a way in to sniff out Gajeel's weaknesses, but he never learned any more than what Gajeel chose to reveal.

In a span of a minute, here in this dinky room standing before a geriatric who hardly came up to his thigh, Gajeel felt uncharacteristically small. He didn’t like the clever glint in the old man’s eye or how he steepled his fingers. He didn’t like how he managed to learn what even his own clansmen didn’t know. This was a sensation that made bile rise in his throat, shame fueling the tension in his shoulders as hurt pride demanded he act out.

But he had more discipline then that and stayed still while his sharpened nails dug divots into his biceps. 

“Do you fairies always spoil the fun like this?” The question was pointed and petulant, but Gajeel felt he deserved the momentary childish barb. 

”Oh we have our own ways to have fun, I guarantee you.“ The old chief finally settled down into his seat, dropping the casual attitude as one drops a burning coal, ”Now, with that out of the way, do you want to remove those shackles or keep pretending you can't? I think we both know you wouldn't get very far if you attacked me anyway.“

That confidence was one thing shared between Makarov and Jose, Gajeel noted. A grim knowledge of one's own abilities. It was an asinine trait, but having the wind torn from his sails so soon into the conversation had left the draconis feeling out of sorts as he dragged his feet to finally sit down.

A part of him was more than satisfied when he heard the legs crack under his weight, struggling to stay intact. If he couldn't keep his abilities a secret longer than a day, fine. At least he had this. 

”Fine. You got me.“ He growled, not bothering to hide his irritation. ”But we're not here to discuss what I can do, are we? You got questions and I got the answers you need.“

”Now we're to the meat of the matter, very good,“ Makarov entwined his fingers under his chin and hummed in agreement, watching as Gajeel fiddled with the shackles but made no attempt to rip them off. He'd save that for later.

“Since you've made it obvious you come from Jose's clan,” The old man continued, voice dripping with acid at the name of the other leader, “Clearly you have a reason for giving us Kage without any demands for compensation. Before I ask you anything more pertinent, let me make one thing clear: Kage's return does not give you access to the Celestial your leader has been after and she's no bargaining chip. Are we clear?”

Gajeel snorted, his grin finally returning, “Crystal. She’s of no use to me anyway.”

And now, it finally felt as if he'd regained his foothold as he watched Makarov's stern expression drop. He decided to run with it, continuing before he could start his line of questions. Gajeel leaned forward, ignoring how the stool creaked as he propped his elbows on his knees.

“I’ll let you in on a secret. Jose thinks he sent me here to get on your good side, learn your towns in and outs and buddy up with you all before dragging the girl out by those golden locks he’s so obsessed with. That was the mission assigned to me,” The more he spoke, the more Makarov's expression changed, hardening into a silent, dangerous rage that fueled Gajeel's amusement.

“He still thinks that, and while I was down for playing along for a bit, there's no point in that now.”

“... and why is that?”

Gajeel's laugh dripped something close to madness, “Let me see your other Draconis members and I might tell ya.”

.

.

.

In the restless hours between Porlyusica begrudgingly giving Natsu the go ahead for freedom and the strange draconis being led through the gates, the Draconis of Fire was not sitting still. In fact, just outside the doors of the keep, he paced, snarling and spitting fiery fury each time he was dragged back to his quarters by those who watched him.

His fellow villagers were glad to see him on his feet. But still, they couldn’t help but wish that the old hermit had ordered him more time in his home. If only to give his frazzled keepers a break now that he was set loose. Keeping him confined to his home was infinitely easier than dragging him back to it after a long walk that always led to the keep; No matter how many times they'd convince Natsu to try a different path, to entice him elsewhere, he found one way or another to lead them back to his planned destination.

It was this constant back and forth and his demands to be let in that Makarov had found him before his meeting with Gajeel. In fact, he'd gone out specifically to settle the fiery man down, who refused to be calm and listen to reason.  Having the opportunity to tell his chief the truth about the newcomer had eased him minutely, but he continued to stay close, refusing all attempts to bring him home.

“You need to eat-” Max had attempted to lure him with the promise of a meal and he looked exhausted from the conversation, ”Seriously, Mirajane promised to cook a different kind of soup this time so-“

”Can eat it here.“ Natsu cackled, ignoring the hard stare of Wendy who'd come along. She was adamant to stay by his side ensuring he wouldn’t push himself too hard. He was talking more than he should, he knew, but the parchment Lucy had left behind was long consumed by his own flames and he hadn't the patience to bring anything similar with him.

”Seriously, Wendy. He’s being difficult. Maybe I should swap with Lucy-”  

Natsu's ferocious snarl ripped from him without thought, startling the other roma to silence. He muttered a quiet apology a moment later. The mere thought of Lucy being anywhere near the keep was too much. He wouldn't allow it. Considering Kage's attempts to kidnap her and the possible ties this new draconis had to Jose’s clan, Natsu would rather open his wounds than have her near

But he didn't bother saying this outloud, his feral snarls and disturbed pacing was enough to get the point across.

”... Natsu,“ Wendy mumbled, trying to placate him, ”Makarov already knows. No one's going to let Lucy get hurt, you know this. Please calm down.“

Her tired, meek tone was almost enough to mollify him, deflating at the look of her. She'd sat upon a nearby stump, fingers digging into the bark with claws she couldn't contain any longer. Their instincts were in sync with the arrival of a new draconis to their chosen flock and the knowledge he wasn't alone was sobering.

But he dug his heels into the dirt and shook his head, ”fine, but I ain't leaving.“

She sighed, looking at Natsu's current charge in sympathy. ”Maybe you should go get your replacement. You look like you could use some rest.“

”And leave him alone to bust the door down?“ The man asked, cringing at the thought, ”No offense to you Wendy, but I don’t think you can hold him down if he starts getting bright ideas.”

She pointed to her nose, sniffing the air as her eyes gleamed, Natsu caught the motion and immediately knew she had caught something in the air he'd missed, ”It's alright, he'll stay put.“

”Pfft, yeah right. Like I won’t-“ He began, following her action to taste the air. The wind had changed direction, something she would have sensed first before him and with that came the familiar scents of not just Erza, but the one person he hadn't wanted near at all, his statement changed in an instant, snarl returning through sharp teeth, ”Why is Erza bringing Lucy here?!”

Max stiffened with his eyes going wide as he began backing down the path. “You know what? Good idea, Wendy, I really SHOULD go. Have fun with that.“

It was almost comical how fast he booked it down the gravel path, shouting for Freed at the top of his lungs. At least it wasn't Warren, Natsu thought, that man's telepathy was irritating on a good day. He would hate having his every thought broadcasted.

But with the knowledge of Erza and Freed both coming his way, the Draconis knew he'd have little time to act and wasn't about to put Wendy in a rough spot in the scant minutes he had. A conundrum that left him grumbling in annoyed dissatisfaction.

”... do you really want Lucy to see you like this?“ Wendy asked under her breath eyeing him closely. The remark felt pointed, but the reason behind it was unknown to him.

”... What, mad? She's seen me mad before. Ain’t like this is new,“ He stated, letting her question distract him from the agitation still boiling under his skin, ”What's your point?“

”Well, uhm,“ She fumbled with the hem of her shirt, brows knitted together as she considered her next words, “since you two are together now, I thought you'd want to put your best foot forward. That's all.“

The restless anger that had him pacing disappeared with the wind, leaving him rooted on the spot. Confusion made him stare at with comically wide eyes as heat burst to his cheeks. His face felt far hotter than it should have as he spluttered, voice a blank monotone, ”Since we're what?“

His empty stare must have spoken more than his mouth  as Wendy turned a violent red. Tearing her gaze away, she wrung her hands nervously as she tripped over her words, “Oh-  are you not? I just could have sworn you-“ She cut herself off again, switching sentences on a dime, ”Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I completely- I thought-!“

An awkward laugh poured from his lips, cutting her off, fighting off the rising embarrassment that threatened to steal his voice. He asked hoarsely, dreading her reasoning but desperate to know all the same. “What did you think? Who said we're together?“

”You... you were covered in her scent the other morning,“ the air draconis explained, covering her beet red face, ”so I assumed. I'm sorry!“

It all clicked at that moment. The way she refused to meet his eyes the day before, the flush that dashed her cheeks when mentioning Lucy. Wendy's odd behavior had nothing to do with some private thing in her life distracting her but rather... Natsu's jaw dropped, staring quizzically in disbelief as the younger Draconis fidgeted in her seat.

When too many silent seconds passed, she began again, ”I really AM sor-“

”It's not the first time her scent’s been on me,“ Natsu said hurriedly, cutting her off again as he regathered his thoughts, ”I-It’s been on me before loads of times. Like... this ain't known? Why would now suddenly mean we're a thing?“

Wendy whined, peeking through her fingers at him, ”All over your face Natsu?! Her scent’s never been on your face before! And when we were coming to see you she bumped into us and- and- Your scent was all over her neck! What was I supposed to think?!“ 

Her voice cracked, striking a new octave strong enough to make his ears ring. He tried to hurriedly defend himself, but words didn’t escape-  That didn’t mean anything! That was because he-

His teeth clacked at how quickly he shut his mouth as the memories of his escape with Lucy came flooding back.

He was hardly aware of himself, too tired and comfortable to argue with Lucy when she was being weird. So he did the first thing that came to his mind, sinking his teeth in her ear. He didn’t remember much after, with sleep claiming him as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. It was the most restful sleep he’d had in a while before Kage’s scent forced him awake again. 

It felt right in the moment but now, during the day, wide awake and running on adrenaline, he finally pieced together why Lucy had reprimanded the action. He hadn't meant it the way Wendy had translated it, but -

He choked out a squeak, an oddly shrill sound that made Wendy jump in her seat. If she could smell that, then that means- ”... oh god the old lady….does she…?“

Wendy could only nod and Natsu felt another stone drop into the pit of his stomach. The approaching scent of the girl in this scenario was a staunch reminder of how little time they had left to talk privately and each second slammed another fact straight through Natsu's brain. 

Why had he been so touchy? Not just then, but lately? How often did he cross that line with Lucy and not realize it?

It was too much to think about. He decided, teeth grinding, especially with two enemies currently in the keep. Changing directions, he stuffed the thoughts of Lucy into the back of his mind (to hopefully forget), and spun towards the door of the keep. There were more pressing matters at hand. Wendy leapt from her seat, latching herself to his arm. A surge of wind wrapped itself around them, gently pushing Natsu away from the door.

”No, no, no!“ She cried, face still a flaming red. He could feel her heated cheeks against his arm and guiltily looked to his feet, still attempting to walk forward, ”Natsuuu, I really AM sorry, but you can't go in there! I swear I mostly kept it to myself so-“

He froze when she did, both realizing the emphasis she put on 'mostly.' With a voice lowering to such a whisper that his own ears could barely catch it, he tilted his gaze back to her, ”... mostly?“

”Oh no!“ She flinched, burying her face into his bicep while her fingers dug into his skin, ”I didn't mean that-! Well, I mean, I did, but it wasn't supposed to happen-'. He didn't stop her rambling, but the way they both could now hear Erza and Lucy's voice down the path helped spur her to get to the point.

“It’s just the old lady right? Only she knows?” He hissed.

Wendy gnawed at her bottom lip guiltily. ”I…..may have accidentally let it slip near Gray...“

No.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, she hesitantly added, “... who was... talking to Cana.”

NO.

“Oh you’ve gotta be fucki-” Horrors upon horrors fell upon Natsu's shoulders. He needed to get inside the keep to see the old man again. Or connect his fist with something solid, like the face of that strange draconis before anything else happened. His exclamation however, was interrupted before he could finish the thought.

“Natsu!” Erza bellowed, commanding voice cutting through the air. They both froze.  She was on a warpath barrelling towards them in armored fury, leaving Lucy behind to watch with unhurried steps. “If you think you can bully Wendy into letting you in -”

Wendy looked just as overwhelmed as Natsu felt, ducking behind him to hide from her wrath. She sprang into action at Erza’s accusation, peeking out to wave frantically to the angered woman, ”It's all right! He wasn't trying to go in, I swear!“

Eyes shifted to meet Natsu’s in a silent plea, making him force a grin (albeit a terrified one) and nodded, ”Was just teasing her! I wouldn't put Wendy through that, haha.“

But then his eyes narrowed, hoping his fellow draconis would catch the underlying, 'this doesn't make up for it' message behind it. Nodding, she accepted the claim, as both seemed to take on a more relaxed air with practiced ease. 

First he needed to chuck a pillow at Makarov and Freed. Now he had to noogie Wendy and prank her. How many people were going to get added to his 'be an annoyance' list before this week was through? 

”Ah, very good then,” Erza said, her approach slowing when she caught up. She eyed them both suspiciously despite their assurances, but thought better than to continue the line of thought. Rather, she examined Natsu from head to toe and frowned deeply.

“Shouldn't you sit down?” She questioned, “While I understand your need for exercise, you've been out of bed for some time now. You should rest your legs.”

Natsu rolled his eyes and snorted. Seriously he wasn’t gonna keel over if he stood up.

“I'm fine-” Natsu cut himself off, looking over Erza's shoulder to meet the brown eyes of a certain celestial Romni finally catching up to them.

“It really doesn't matter what state you're in,” She beamed, face practically glowing with her greeting, “You're still ready to cause trouble, aren't you?”

“I-” Suddenly, words became difficult all over again. As if the damage in his throat had returned tenfold, forgetting all the hours and magic put behind healing it. He couldn't find the words to reply to her and laughed breathlessly.

At Wendy's curiously wide stare, he shook his head to regain his thoughts and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, ”I'm just... tryna to make sure no one else gets hurt. That's all.“

And that was the perfect distraction he needed, eyes narrowing as he remembered his earlier ire. At his sudden glare, Erza matched his expression and crossed her arms. ”What’s the big idea bringing Lucy up here anyway?”

”I don't see why not.”

“There's TWO good reasons inside those doors-!”

Before Natsu and Erza could continue, Lucy jumped between them with hands on her hips, eyes glinting dangerously in his direction. “I thought we got over this speaking as if I'm not RIGHT here half a year ago?”

He flinched, “Ah... but I-“

Her expression soured, “But?“ She repeated, a hint of her magic sizzling in the air.

The return of her magic threatened to pull a grin out of Natsu, but the scent of danger radiating off her made him immediately backpedal, ”Nothing! Sorry!“

”Thank you.“ 

He didn't miss the way Wendy inhaled sharply, giving him the most deadpanned stare he'd ever seen from her.

While Natsu chose to ignore Wendy, he looked to Erza who avoided his gaze. Whatever her reasoning for bringing Lucy along, it would remain a mystery.  And rather than risk angering her further, he moved to claim Wendy’s stump, flopping onto it with a dramatic huff.  His thoughts had been in disarray since leaving his home, But now this? It was too much to think about.  Not today, he could think about it another day.

Lucy, on the other hand, took the moment to question Wendy about the draconis' inability to stay home now that he'd been given permission to walk around. Recounting the tale of Natsu's exploits against the keep door had her exasperated in seconds, but her smile grew at a subtle humor as well.

Erza had fallen silent. She vaguely listened with a curious expression. Yet her eyes flickered from place to place, unable to stay focused. 

In fact, Natsu noticed once he'd broken through his own sulking, the redhead could barely stand still: feet shifted and fingers drummed along her forearm. Once or twice her gaze settled on a specific room attached to the keep before darting back to Wendy and Lucy's conversation.

Natsu knew restless energy enough to recognize it in Erza and her revealing it was fascinating enough to distract most of his errant thoughts.

“In a hurry to go somewhere?” He cocked his head and waited for a response, surprised when Erza jumped. That was... not normal. 

“Not particularly,” Her breezy reply was too controlled and Natsu didn't buy it for a second. Ignoring Wendy and Lucy's sudden silence, he hardened his gaze and waited until Erza's uncharacterized fidgeting grew even more so, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why are you lying?” He countered, voice cutting sharp through the cracks of his throat.

With eye twitching, her tone dropped to a hiss, “Not everything needs to be YOUR business.”

Fear shot through his system like lightning and he gulped. Abort! Abort! “Fine, whatever! I bet it's something girly anyways.”

“You're clearly trying to provoke me,“ she crossed her arms, fiddling with straps of her leather bracers, ”considering your injuries, I'll choose to ignore it: back. off.“

Foolishly realizing he'd backed himself into a corner, Natsu was stuck between pushing her buttons further or doing just as Erza suggested. Whatever was on her mind, it wasn't worth the risk, but the curious gazes from Lucy and Wendy began to crack Erza's shell as a blush crept down her neck.

There wasn't a chance to call it out, as those flickering eyes finally caught something in the distance, widening in relief. “Ah, your charge has finally arrived. Good. I can go then.”

“Wait,” Lucy chimed in, puzzled, “what was the point in bringing me if you're just going to leave-“

Her question went unanswered as Erza beat a hasty retreat towards the keep. Turning right at the entry door, she entered the side building, where Natsu realized the smell of their other stranger was currently dwelling. His eyes narrowed as she slipped inside. Odd, but not important enough to dwell on now, not when Freed and Levy's scent invaded his senses.

”Oh, that's what she meant,“ Wendy clarified, ”He was downwind and I couldn't smell him.“ And his rising voice, chatting about the inner meanings behind rune writing and enchantments, went over all of their heads except for the short romni who walked beside him eyes gleaming in excited interest.

”Tch,“ He grumbled, ”getting more crowded by the minute.“

Now how was he going to sneak into the keep with not two, but four pairs of eyes here to watch him?! He sulked so far down into himself that he slid off the stump. Some day out this turned out to be.

.

.

.

Natsu was right to question Erza's actions. She was flustered from his perceptive senses,  annoyingly sniffing out her calm ruse. But a different worry weighed heavily on her mind, one that had her hanging on the edge with apprehension. Her old friend and temporary guest was at risk of being imprisoned right along with the other two. And his fate entirely hinged on the answers he gave in the next hour.

Her intentions with Lucy and waiting for Natsu's next keeper to arrive were layered. While Freed recovered quickly and was back to his prime, even she'd noticed Natsu's penchant for calming down around Lucy. It was an effect that garnered Erza's curiosity as well as mystified her; If it meant easing everyone’s frustrations, then it was an effect she was willing to put to use.

But she had to admit to herself, there was an altogether different motive to her actions today.  

She knocked on the door to Jellal's current quarters mostly out of polite tradition, but didn't bother waiting for permission. Using it as her introduction, she entered the small room that had once been used for storage and immediately looked for the current subject of her thoughts.

She didn't have to look long.

Jellal made it easy and the size of the room gave no options for hiding either way. Seated by a makeshift table of old barrels, he pored over a book he'd brought along with him, brows furrowed in concentration. It gave the impression he hadn't heard her at all, but the subtle pause when he skipped the page told her otherwise.  

This gave her ample time to get comfortable, grabbing the nearest, rickety chair and  barring the door from other potential visitors. Silence built between them as she watched him flip through another page, clearing his throat at odd intervals. She took the time to study his profile, noting the changes from the time she'd seen him two years earlier.

His hair was a mess, shaggier than she was used to and sheared unevenly as strands of blue brushed along his shoulders. What once was a man of pale skin, now looked tan as if he'd been under the sun for months of travel, but most noticeably, was the red tattoo etched into the right side of his face.

”You didn't have that when we last met,“ She broke the silence, pleased when he paused in his reading, softly shutting the book with a finger marking his place.  

He glanced back with a light smile crinkling his eyes.  He knew he should’ve greeted her when she came in, but he was too engrossed in the pages to pull himself away so soon.

”Many members of my clan become tattooed once they reach a certain age,“ He explained, trailing a hand along the red lines thoughtfully, ”In my case, this was due to a promotion in rank, more than anything else.“

”... does this rank perhaps have anything to do with why you sought me out?“ The question was pointed, seeing no reason to dodge the meat of the matter. 

Chuckling, Jellal shrugged, ”Ah, so we're starting this so soon?“

She murmured his name in a soft warning, eyes narrowing, “I've given Makarov my faith in you, but that doesn't mean I'm allowed to avoid protocol. I need to know why you're here.”

“And I suppose wanting to see an old friend isn't a good enough reason?” He asked, voice lowering as he looked at his book, not expecting an answer, “it would be ridiculous to assume I miraculously found your location out of a drive to see you again, but I won't lie and say I didn't wish it were the truth.”

She warmed at his confession, the implication plain as she coughed into her arm to hide it, “Please, be serious. If you don't answer me honestly, I'll have no say in where you end up next. It'll be out of my hands.”

“My apologies.“ The book was set aside and he turned in his seat fully facing her. ”Then you want to know what reason could I possibly have to work with a man whose clan has made attempts on your family's life all for the sake of kidnapping a certain girl. Am I correct?“

Erza's teeth clenched and she nodded, allowing him to continue. A few seconds passed in awkward silence and she feared he wasn't going to continue, but eventually Jellal hummed and pulled the sleeves back on his hands, holding his arms to the dim light for her to see.

His hands trembled as he held them aloft from strain of a secret shame she knew nothing of, but she spied the thin faded lines of old scrapes that litterred his skin under the sickly purples of fading bruises. They coiled around his arms and fingers, and drew her attention to what he quietly wanted her to see.

His wrists were swollen with old rope burns and she bit back a gasp. She hadn’t seen them before, and bile climbed into her throat as she wondered just how they looked before Porlyusica had a look at them.

She knew immediately what he intended to tell her. “... you were imprisoned by them.”

He nodded, covering his arms with a swift flourish, “the only one I consider myself allied with is Gajeel. Even then, it's merely out of convenience. If not for him, I'd still be tied up like some animal.”

Shocked, Erza tried to put the pieces together despite missing far too many points for a clear picture, ”I need you to tell me the whole story. Please.“

Wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue, Jellal took a second to consider and nodded. “Jose is looking for a celestial, but he’s doing so blindly. He has no idea which one he needs so any of us not hidden to the North are fair game. When I was in their camp, Erza, I heard him boasting that he'd finally found the right one. The one your clan has taken in. A girl of golden hair whose family was massacred a year ago. I’d heard of their demise and grieved deeply for them, but I had to see for myself if there was a survivor. And if Jose was right.” 

“Right? Right about what? What would he need a celestial for?” She pressed, voice growing cold.

“There are numerous myths and legends in my tribe, Erza,” he said amiably, running a finger along the spine of his forgotten book, “and I honestly can't say I know for sure, but... this book may hold the answer. Gajeel had it. Swiped it from Jose himself, I imagine. It may hold the answers you and I both seek.”

“And Gajeel?” She asked, “what's his angle?”

He fell silent, for the first time since their chat began, he looked insecure, uncertain. ”That man has many secrets and faces. I don't think he ever lays out his full hand for anyone, but he's made it clear he doesn't plan on bringing the girl to Jose. He has his own agenda.“

Exhaling, all the tension Erza had upon entering the room fell off her shoulders. She couldn't sense an ounce of dishonesty in his words, and it was more than enough for her to feel Makarov would allow him to stay.

”Then I can only hope Makarov is able to figure out his motives for the rest of us.“ There were still many unknowns, but at least this much seemed to be in their favor.

Unfortunately, he didn't share her optimism as his lips thinned into a grimace, “I can assure you that he will speak the truth when the time comes, but he'll do everything he can to avoid sharing all that he knows. I can vouch that we're not here to cause trouble, but any further than that, is a mystery.”

“Thank you for being upfront with me,” Erza was emphatic with her words, her interest now falling on the book he was carefully studying, “... would you like to meet her?”

“Her?” Jellal blinked and Erza beamed.

”Lucy,“ She said, ”you are technically cousins, are you not?”

.

.

.

Night fell quickly for those who wanted to spend more time out and about. Natsu in particular, though distracted by his friends as best as they could, fumed at the wasted day. By the time the chill started to creep into the air, he'd been whisked back to his home and the night crickets serenaded the night sky by his window.

Erza remained in Jellal's room for hours, learning what she could and catching up with her old friend. When she fell into the comfort of her own bed, her mind buzzed with information and puzzle pieces that were far too varied to connect.  

Makarov, too, rested with his mind surrounded by deep thoughts. He frowned as he recalled his conversation with the new Draconis and tossed and turned above his furs until a fitful sleep claimed him.

It was a night full of peace and restless unease teetering back and forth on scales, waiting to balance out. Even Gajeel, given a small room to rest in, laid on a cramped cot that barely held his frame. Long hair trailed down in a wild mass to brush the floor that he swept up to rest on his chest. He smirked, combing his fingers through the long locks. His talk with Makarov led him one step closer to his goals and the shackles had been removed.

But he caught the slide of a wooden board and the familiar bolt of iron latches being shoved into place, effectively locking him. And the nearest window was too narrow for him to slip through.  He fiddled with the random baubles in his pockets and studied the ceiling above him, mind abuzz with possibilities. 

His travel partner, Juvia, should have made it back to Jose by now, he figured. While the woman was more reserved, willing to follow orders than lead, he trusted she'd feed Jose the information they agreed upon and stay at the other chief's side in his absence. She could take care of it, but that left him with his other goal. He thought it would take longer to find what he needed, but everything had fallen into his lap with very little effort. 

Withdrawing his hand from his pocket, he cupped a blue gem nestled in his palm. He eyed the small orb lazily, throwing his other arm behind his head. It glowed slightly in the darkness, and it hummed with a magic all of its own that he could feel lightly tugging against him. Beautiful and rare; a gem that could be mined in the depths of his true home. He rubbed a smudge off it and snorted, glaring into its translucent surface as if peering into a far off space.

“Now I know I ain’t taking that long for you to stop paying attention to this thing,” He said dryly as one does to a person standing in front of them. “It's only been what? Four years? Don’t tell me my old man was right about you givin’ up.”

It was a tasteless barb, one that held no heat, but sparked a response in the gem. The shimmering mass of liquid inside flickered and spun itself into an image pieced together by bits of light until he saw the innards of an old cave, illuminated by thousands of gems in its likeness. It refocused on the silhouette of an older man, peering back into its depths as he growled in turn.

”Your father,“ The man said, rolling his eyes, ”has lost the bet. He thought it would take you another ten. Good to see you alive, kid.”

He cursed, already annoyed two seconds into the conversation, “Of course he did, the ass. You're looking rather alive today, have you been able to see the sun more than once a month?”

The voice in the gem grumbled, ”You're as insufferable as he is. Get on with it. I doubt you're using up the magic in your lacrima for pleasantries.“

”Gihee, maybe I just wanna string you along just to piss-“

”Gajeel.“ The voice rumbled and the gem shook violently, spiking with heat as magic flared within its depths and somehow, so did the walls of his room. Dust fell from the ceiling and onto Gajeel’s shoulders as he flew up, stiff and alert,  glancing wildly around. He strained to hear any signs of others becoming aware of the magic surge. A beat passed and he sighed. Good, no one was alerted. He refocused on the gem and squeezed it tight with a snarl. 

“Cheating asshole,” He spat. What was it with old men ruining his fun today? “Your good ol’ pal and rival has been busy makin' connections, but he ain't got what he wants yet. On the other hand, I got exactly what YOU want.”

“...meaning?”

He smirked, eyes wild with brimming excitement, “he's here. I found him.”

Another flare of heat came from the gem, strong enough to crack the surface. But the break didn’t matter as the light began to fade. The lacrima, made to send only one simple message, had lost its stored power. With his message sent and the sudden chaos of shocked shouts within the stone cut out. Chuckling, Gajeel pocketed the stone to charge it with his magic once again. Now in a much better mood than he was before.

His whistling echoed off the walls and down the hall of the keep. The balanced scales teetered once again as the uneasy restlessness was overpowered by a sudden peace.

The village settled. Stars sparkled their light along with the moon above, and somewhere far off on the edges of the Magnolia forest, another camp settled to sleep as well.

All, but one. The Phantom Chief, receiving news from a reserved woman who recently returned. Her report was given succinctly and he'd waved her off with an impassive facade.

In truth, he was holding back cackling loud into the night. It would only be a matter of time for him to get what he wanted: glorious. 

He'd have to promote Gajeel when he returned and maybe commend Kage as well: if the lowly peon managed to survive.