This is a somewhat rambling and introspective gift fic for sanguinefairy on Tumblr. I had initially planned to post it earlier, but the holidays have been absolutely brutal.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
It had been a long time since Mard Geer had faced any real challenges in his long, long life. Surprises, too, were few and far between for him. And now, beyond his expectations, he'd found himself confronted by both from a source he had not anticipated.
Fairy Tail was supposed to have folded long before they were swallowed up by Alegria. But not only had that one girl survived the devastating spell on less than half a chance, she had then held off several of the Demon Gates, summoned three Zodiac spirits simultaneously, and to top all of it off she had brought forth his old rival, the Celestial Spirit King himself, to the battlefield. Furthermore, the length of time she'd managed to keep the gargantuan spirit supplied with power! And to obliterate Jackal from this plane of existence as well, if the lack of the demon's lifeforce pull on his own energy was anything to go by. The amount of magic necessary to accomplish such feats shouldn't by rights exist within the pathetic humans of the current age.
How very interesting.
This human had piqued his curiosity – yet another thing to add to her list of accomplishments. Emotion was something that he'd cast aside long ago. They were unnecessary for his mission, his purpose. He was to be a weapon for Lord Zeref; no more, no less. To feel the resurgence of one of pesky things now was… uncomfortable.
That wily old spirit had done an impressive number on him, too. Petrification was nothing Mard Geer couldn't handle, but it was taking entirely too much time to shake off. By extension, this was the girl's doing, too. He wanted to see this human in person. Maybe, with the right goading and after she'd recovered some of her energy, she could be convinced to return the Celestial King to this plane of existence for a rematch. It wasn't enough, this mild amount of playing he'd gotten to do thus far. He wanted more.
With the unleashing of his interest had come other emotions, Mard Geer realized as he struggled against his stony bonds in silence. Frustration at his immobility welled up in his chest; not quite to the level of outright anger, however. Not just yet. After all, he was in this position because he'd been able to let loose for once.
When was the last time he'd been able to do that? He was having a difficult time fathoming a time when he'd been anything other than numb. When was the last time he had even left Tartaros's main castle, for that matter? Let alone touched upon the earth below? When had he become this creature with emotions entombed behind the briars in his soul, and his body behind the thorn-covered walls of the castle? A shadow of the monster he'd been four hundred years ago, never striving for greater than what he'd already obtained?
He couldn't remember.
With the decline of his emotions had come the decline of his mind, Mard Geer decided. Apathy had clouded him, or rather had left him an empty vessel. His interminable existence, surrounded by the same walls and the same demons for centuries without interruption or change had rendered the passage of time moot to him. It had gone by, unnoticed, unremarked upon. The decline of the human race's magic was noted, if vaguely, by reports of difficulty in finding suitable fodder to expand Tartaros's influence and ranks.
It was all clear, now, with the violence that was surging through him. He had been sedentary for far too long.
Desire crawled through his veins, embedding its thorns deep inside his skull and sending its roots throughout his body. Jackal and Kyouka's actions were a little easier to understand than they previously had been. But they were lesser creatures, and he was still the Underworld's King. Pride was something he'd retained even in his hollow-like existence, it seemed.
He wanted to break free of these shackles – those magically forced upon him by the Spirit King and those which were self-imposed. He wanted to play with the girl. He wanted to test her limits to the point of breaking. He wanted to cast aside even his loyalty, and his mission to protect and usher in E.N.D.'s glory.
He wanted.
Freedom such as he now craved was a heady thing for a demon. Mard Geer knew this implicitly; it was engraved into every particle of etherion that comprised his body. It was part of why he'd abandoned the notion and desire for it hundreds of years ago. Emotions, and the freedom to have them, could interfere with his purpose. This he'd known then, and was still keenly aware of.
Lord Zeref was certain to punish him for this indiscretion he was about to commit in abandoning his duty. Yet, for some reason, even under the influence of his rediscovered emotions, Mard Geer couldn't dredge up the urge to care about what he was supposed to be doing at all. Instead, the emotion clawing its way to the surface was one he could only call gratitude. How strange; how interesting!
Coolness touched his cheek, and if Mard Geer had been capable of doing so, he would have grinned at the long-forgotten sensation of night air. It was the most welcoming thing he'd ever experienced in his long, long life.
It wouldn't be long now until he was finally free. Free from petrification, free from his inhibitions.
First and foremost, he'd savor the chaos and destruction his minions would have undoubtedly wrought in his absence. Maybe he could stretch his atrophied muscles while he was at it. Then he'd seek out the girl that awoken in him all these emotions once more; that is, if she hadn't been killed yet by the remaining demons. If she had perished, however, he felt he might actually mourn for her. But he sincerely doubted that any further harm had come to her after all that she'd endured thus far. That would be far too lackluster an end to this saga.
How funny, he thought. Is this what humans would call… faith?
Such a notion was altogether laughable, really. Him? The Underworld King? A preeminent demon crafted for destruction by the greatest dark wizard to have ever lived? A monster engineered for the sole purpose of killing an immortal? Pure, malefic intent given form and agency? The Mard Geer? Having faith in a human? But if that really were the case, then it was all the more reason he would have to hasten this spell's undoing and hunt her down.
He would be quite remiss if he failed to return this wonderful favor that she'd bestowed upon him.
With interest.