Day One: Masquerade

It was only meant to be a bit of fun, the woman thought as she wailed into her pillow, fingers cold and white gripping to the side of the soft down pocket. She had not thought that the man would seriously consider going to a ball in order to find love, false as it may be, but Laxus had so now Lucy was left to wonder if her soft hearted friend would actually fall for one of the women that he danced with. The Lady Lucy was the heir to the Heartphilia name and konzern, daughter of Baron Jude Heartphilia, as well as lifelong friends with the heir to the Viscount Dreyar, a bureau that held King's Council lawyers. Despite the boy being six years her senior, Laxus and Lucy were fast friends and enjoyed each others company. It had occurred to Bickslow, a Baroness' son, that because they have known each other for so long that the Baron and Viscount may consider marriage for them because of the number of suitors that both had refused to entertain. Much like Viscountess Holthom and Earl Justine had done for Evergreen and Freed when Evergreen had turned seventeen with no indication that she would marry the men offering for her hand.

"Mayhaps we ought to go to a ball and claim to have fallen in love with someone we danced with," Lucy had giggled into her porcelain cup, frown dancing along her forehead as she considered what it would be like to marry Laxus, "Old Makarov would probably allow you to pursue this fictitious woman for a short while longer, and father would likely allow me to search for my darling if I kick up enough of a fuss."

"They are hardly likely to allow us to do so," Laxus had muttered, waving his hand at Lucy before tipping his head back to swallow the bourbon that painted his china. "There are dance cards to consider, and someone will be able to recount to grandfather and the Lord whom we danced with, for how long, and other such nonsense." Laxus pulled the heavy bottle towards himself, pouring more of the liqueur into his cup before setting it stiffly onto the table, "Uncle Warren, perhaps?" That thrice damned man had learnt Telepathy Magic, and he exploited it in order to receive a rather opulent trust fund.

Freed had raised a brow at this, flicking the decanter with his smallest finger, voice breaching the silence with a soft tone, "They would if it were a masquerade ball," Freed's blue eyes glancing to his wife, tapping the ring that circled his third finger with his thumb and let his lips sit slightly parted in order to keep attention, "Though, yes, there is a limited number it may be due to the guest list," Freed's fingers sprawled, and his eyes kept to the sugar bowl that sat to his left and beside Laxus' hand, "The rules around dance cards are less strict, and as such you would not know your partner's name only what may be shared in the span of a few dances, maybe even a stolen traipse through the gardens." The man was brave enough to look at Lucy, her head tilted slightly and almost hidden behind the porcelain cup that hovered about her lips, "It may take longer to identify your chosen partner if you chose certain traits," Freed breathed heavily, crossing his legs and sitting back in his chair while pulling the lapels of his jacket tighter over his stomach, "Average height; medium weight; pale eyes; brown-ish hair." Freed's eyes remained on Bickslow, the man tapping black nails against the side of his tumbler, "A general enough description and you may earn yourselves a few more weeks, months even if we're lucky."

Evergreen lowered her cup into its saucer, looking into the cooling liquid as she righted its orientation, "Earl Grigoire is holding a masquerade ball for the last party in the Winter Circuit," Lucy's finger tapped lightly against the edge of the table, head tilting back slightly as her lips pursed at the recollection of the Grigoire winter manor house, "Her Highness is also quite fond of a masked ball," Evergreen's lips spun a mirthless smile, fingers adjusting the lines of her skirts, "Mother received an invitation two days past," Evergreen nodded towards Laxus who seemed to have abandoned all attempts at drinking, "Baron Heartphilia and Viscount Dreyar will likely receive theirs soon as well, I suspect," Lifting a handkerchief to her lips, Evergreen tapped lightly at her chin and glanced at the grandfather clock, "In order to celebrate the new trade deal with the Desierto Kingdom, she is inviting foreign Nobility, aristocracy, and nouveau riche from each county for the New Year." Lucy breathed a sigh of relief, already knowing what the woman was going to say to her, "That ought to satisfy the Baron as it means he may be able to secure better materials and further the konzern," Evergreen's green mouth twitched, eyes floating over to the blonde man, "And as King's Council, well, one would hope the Viscount would not be opposed to a diplomatic marriage."

Bickslow's hand rubbed against his neck, the callouses on his palms scratching at his skin, "That would probably be just enough time," Biting at his lips, Bickslow pushed his forefinger into the table enough to shift the cloth, eyes combing the pairs faces for any sign of nervousness, "But when we return from either the ball or the circuit each of you would need to broach the subject with your guardians first, regardless of how embarrassed you may be by it. If you don't it will be difficult to dissuade them."

Lucy pushed her saucer away from the edge of the table, then held her hands in her lap to prevent her friends from seeing her shake, "That is quite the stretch, and if you're right about your assumption-"

"Which I am."

"-Of course, Bickslow." For a moment a kind smile flashed across her lips, and her eyes were bright before fading to a familiar brown, "Then we may only just be able to stall the contracting."

A gust of air flew from Laxus' nose, his brows raising, "It's a narrow margin," With his palm held out to Lucy, Laxus tried not to let his voice shake, as uncertain to the future as she, "And you've been seventeen for half the year now. By all rights, he would have you married already."

Lucy let her hand sit in Laxus' for a moment, squeezing as though he might disappear before letting go and looking around their table, "I have noticed a decline in the number of suitors father has been bringing." With a small laugh, that was pathetic to her own ears, Lucy fought back the mist that clouded her sight, "I had hoped that meant father would postpone any marriage," For a moment, the woman contemplated breaking the cup, its cuckoo design mocking her in glee, "But if he is turning down suitors already then he and Old Makarov have likely all but written the damned contract."

"Let's leave this until the morrow," Evergreen said kindly, faintly curling fingers over her lips as the eleventh bell rung, and her fingers took up the small glass bell that called for the parlour maids who awaited their leaving to clean the room, "We have another few weeks to decide what to do."

Laxus stood from his chair, allowing the maid to press his coat onto his shoulders before offering a tentative comment, "I reckon we ought to do it," When a curious look met him, his shoulders rose and he let a small smile grace his face, "Save ourselves the trouble and pick someone our guardians approve of and we could love."

Lucy looked up at her friend, lips almost white under the rouge as she pressed them together, "Agreed," Lucy lowered her head to avoid their looks and straightened her skirt before a bitter comment escaped her lips without warned, "It is likely to be the only freedom I will have." Lucy moved towards the door, feet quick before she stopped and swirled around, fingers sprawled against the door and hair falling from its setting, "Good night, shall we meet on the southern veranda for an early lunch?" The words were quiet, and she would not meet their eyes, as though aware of how unfair the statement was to Evergreen, and Freed.

"Sounds delightful, Lucy," Evergreen placed her hand at her husband's elbow, fingers pushing him forward to the door as they tried to ignore how the maids fought to wonder what they were conversing about, "I'll inform the cook to prepare us something light, and a picnic as well I think."

So that was where Lucy was now, the tears from the night before gone from her face and the fruit fork carefully lifting segments of orange to her lips, dainty gloves covering her fingers to cover the scrapes from where she had punched her cabinet. Though the edges of her eyes were red, Lucy was able to hide the colouring with a smile, "Which ball should we claim?"

"The Royal Ball is closer," Evergreen offered, knowing that the Griogoire manor was not a place Lucy wanted to be, "And they are more likely to be forgiving of stalling because of the better prospects that come with a foreign marriage." Freed and Evergreen had spent the night concocting plans on how to make the two happy, how to coach them on happiness - though both had had a lifetime of that.

Bickslow tapped his cigar against the ashtray, snorting smoke into the air and over the salmon sandwiches, "The traits can also be more unusual," With a wave of his hand, Bickslow sent their maid away to fetch a bottle of pale wine, "They are likely to see the beauties of Desierto as being assets just for the looks," With a grin, Bickslow leant forward on his elbows, waggling his eyebrows and for a moment Lucy was reminded of where his mother had been born, "To be exotic will place their social ranking higher, and vice versa is likely to be considered for the Desierto courts." Bickslow let his eyes follow a red squirrel as it scampered up one of the oak trees that sat beside the veranda.

"So dark hair, pale eyes?" Laxus muttered through his food.

Bickslow's lip curled upwards and he gave his friend a disapproving glare. "Perhaps green to be more precise, with earthy hair and pale skin."

"It could work," Freed wondered, his ring creating harsh clinks as it tapped against the glass his punch rested in, "There's no denying that," With a grumble the man lowered his voice as he spotted Baron Heartphilia walking with an investor through the gardens with the family hounds, "What do we do when they realise there's no such person we wish to pursue?"

"Swear that there is," Evergreen mumbled with a smile that had more bone than a skeleton, "Threaten to run away if they do not find them."

"It could work," Lucy tapped at her cheek with a serviette, smiling brightly, "Yes, let's do it."

"Maybe I should as well," Bickslow grumbled as he abandoned his cigar in the ashtray, and when he noticed his friends failing to follow him he chuckled, "Mother's contracted me to the Baron Marvell's youngest, Wendy."

Two weeks later the five sat cramped into a carriage, fingers fiddling with the invitations for Her Majesty's celebration gala, "Your dress is lovely, Lucy," Laxus offered, trying to soothe his friend's nerves as her legs appeared to jump beneath her pink skirts.

"Thank you, Laxus," Tearing her eyes away from the vast darkness of Crocus, Lucy glanced over her friends in the carriage, hoping for peace on that night, "Burgandy suits you well, I must say," A ghost of a smile crossed her lips, passed memories of bright orange suits flashing across the forefront of her mind.

A small laugh made its way past Laxus' lips, "I can't wait for this night to be over."

"You are not the only one," Lucy's lips pursed, shaking her head at Laxus and sharing a smile with Evergreen.

"Gods, you are such saps, the both of you," Bickslow threw a bottle at Lucy, motioning with her hands that she ought to drink the moonshine as though it were a safe thing to do, "Drink, have fun, dance."

"Dancing is the part I fear," Tumbled from Lucy's lips with mirth.

It was two hours into the Princess' gala that Laxus first danced, though this was not strictly true, Lucy and he had danced the waltz in the first round but then the music had changed and he had moved farther into the shadows. Laxus had been content with watching Lucy dance with the foreign men, eager to watch how her dress swirled and her neck bent in an elegant curve when he had heard, "May I have this dance?"

Laxus had turned to the girl who had approached him, her face hidden by a mosaic mask. When he had taken time to notice her accent, he had seen that she matched Freed's description almost perfectly despite not being able to see all of her features, "Certainly, my dear," Laxus had offered his hand, bowed and kissed her fingers before leading her to a more open space for them to dance to whatever tune that spun through the air, "Though I must admit, sarabande has never been my strong suit," The only reason he remembered the dance steps was his eyes found Lucy, dancing with Bickslow in a distant corner, and memories of teaching her the steps returned with venom, "Though, ma'am, you excel at it."

"You flatter me, Sir," The girl laughed, her voice twinkling and merry as though a distant memory, "But I am no ma'am." With a smile she spun in his arms, slinking closer to him with every song they danced to as though she did not notice the looks they received for such indecent behaviour. The two continued to talk through the night, exchanging dances and silly words between sets and visits to the banquet tables.

"I never caught your name, miss," Laxus asked as they left the plateau that had been set up in the gardens of the palace, their cheeks flush and hearts beating fast.

The girl had smiled up at him with a smile that spoke of years of intimacy, and many that would follow, "I never caught yours," Throughout this conversation, the girl had drawn his head down so that her lips brushed his jaw as she spoke and her breath ghosted his neck, "It seems only fair to give before you take."

"Lord Laxus Dreyar, King's Council," The words were fumbling, although practised many times over the years and he held the girl closer as he felt his lips on her ear caused her to shiver, "Heir to a Viscountcy."

"A name to remember, I am sure," The girl muttered, glancing to the palace doors and spotting the guards that lit the fireworks that now blossomed overhead.

"Pardon? I don't believe I caught your name over the fireworks." Laxus held onto her fingers as she drew away from him, and for a moment he saw Lucy standing by the door of the palace, watching him with a smile.

"Goodnight, Lord Dreyar," The girl sung, running back through the doors of the palace and disappearing into the crowd.

At the breakfast the morning they returned, held at the Dreyar mansion, Jude Heartphilia was the first to ask after the ball he had been unable to attend, "Did you have fun at the ball, children?"

"It was enjoyable," Lucy smiled at her father, quietly enjoying the buttery breakfast and orange juice.

"I met a woman there," Laxus mumbled quietly into his pancakes, carefully keeping his eyes on the fruit bowl instead of his grandfather, "I wish to court her."

Makarov had set his glass flute down sharply, water spilling from the top and the children tried not to notice how he looked to Jude before replying, "You do?"

"Yes." Laxus stated, and was silent as he squared his shoulders and remembered the visage of the woman he never saw, "She had hair the colour of pitch, and eyes like mother's emeralds," Makarov's face twitched beneath his moustache in such a way that Laxus almost though it was a smile, "I danced with her many times," Laxus turned to Lucy, his friend's eyes wide and he ignored the shallow pace of her breathing and dilated pupils, "Did you see her, Lucy? She wore the most magnificent gold and purple dress covered in cream lace."

Lucy was silent for a moment, taking a little extra time to chew the fruit she had removed from her fork, "The mauve and orange baldachin bodice with the phlox ardass skirts," Lucy smiled at Makarov, eyes singing the praises for the woman he almost feared was not real. There was a dejection to Makarov, and his fingers tapped at the table, worried glances sent to Jude at the other end, "Her dress had the most beautiful broderie anglaise lacework on the collar and sleeves," Lucy's voice came thick from her throat, slowly, and Laxus smiled as he knew he was not wrong in seeing her watch them dance under the stars, "Her mask was beautiful; part of it was glass, no?"

Laxus laughed softly, tongue running over his lips, "It was glass over her nose, and there was some on her forehead, like the cathedral in Magnolia."

"What is this young woman's name?" Jude offered, continuing to eat as though the development was of no concern to him.

"I never quite caught her name," Laxus admitted, a redness colouring his cheeks in a way Lucy had never see before, "She disappeared before I could hear it. Though her name began with 'A', of that I am certain. Her father's name began with 'R'." Laxus watched the rise and fall of Lucy's chest, and how she seemed determined to chew through her lips with something akin to annoyance, and he may have asked her had her father not ventured to know about her own experiences.

Jude had opted to ask his daughter seriously, "Did you find anyone to your liking, Lucy?"

"No, I'm afraid not," The girl had laughed, smiling as though she did not know the kind of man he was trying to contract her to, "Though I have received requests for audiences with you, father," Lucy recalled the dozen letters or so that had arrived back with her, almost scared to admit to such a thing, "They are all quite suitable I'm sure."

That afternoon, Laxus and Lucy left for the Justine mansion, and for a long while they were silent, "What happened to creating a lover each?" Laxus looked at Lucy, though she refused to look at him, pretending to enjoy the numbing scenery of the forest they passed through, "Was that not the plan?"

"You appear to be enraptured enough for both of us," She ventured into her hand, lipstick smearing over her gloves as she sighed, "Besides which, we are likely to remain allies even if there is no marriage," Lucy righted her posture and then began to remove the silk gloves from her fingers, "I saw no reason to tempt fate."

It was a short time later they were introduced to Lady Anastasia Ravenna, the daughter of an Earl who has many ties to the textiles industry of Desierto, and as second daughter the Earl Ravenna was not as concerned with marrying her to another country. Anastasia has seen Laxus at the ball and had danced a few rounds with him. She had given him her name, though it was likely not heard when she mumbled into her sleeves. Anastasia was younger than Laxus by several years, young and pretty and everything he had thought she would be beneath the mask she had worn. It was decided by Makarov that the wedding should take place at the Heartphilia chapel, as it was close to the port that would bring the honeymoon couple on their maiden voyage, the reception was also to be held at the Heartphilia mansion. An hour before the ceremony, Evergreen found Lucy in her changing room, wearing only her corset and skirts, the rest of the bridesmaid's dress strung over the chair in the corner of the room. Lucy was standing in front of the wardrobe pushing a purple dress into the cupboard, "Lucy is tha-"

"Is what?" Lucy had not looked at Evergreen, but kept her hands on the door to the wardrobe after having slammed it shut.

"That dress- Gemini." The woman had laughed, eyes widening with the realisation before she stepped forward, the Celestial Keys glowing from the table that Lucy kept her make-up on, "Are you the woman he danced with?"

Lucy's were wide and terrified when she turned to Evergreen, lips turning down and eyes threatening to shed tears, "Don't you dare tell him," Lucy's voice broke when Evergreen turned to leave the room, intent on finding Laxus and telling him what Lucy had done, "You can't, Evergreen," Lucy's voice shook, head following it. "He's in love with Anastasia, and they are getting married." Lucy's voice was venomous as she scolded Evergreen, "You cannot ruin that for them."

"Why not?"

Lucy's face fell and her heart broke to see Laxus standing in the door, Bickslow and Freed sitting on the chairs behind him with ashen faces. This did not last for long as her sadness turned to anger, face billowing red and her arm shakingly pointed to the door, "Leave. Now, Laxus," Lucy's voice was scathing, and her arm swung violently at Evergreen when the woman tried to touch her, "We pretend this never happened. That we never-" Lucy pressed her eyes closed, black streaks appearing on her face as the tears spilt from her eyes through her mascara, "It was Anastasia you danced with," When her eyes opened, Lucy was calm - her voice was steady, and she looked fierce and if not for the tracks on her face Laxus may have been tempted to follow the order, "You will marry her, and you will make your grandfather proud. You will secure that alliance, Laxus."

Laxus closed his own eyes, but looked out the window when he opened them, "Why did you do it?"

"You are a very bad actor," Was the simple statement she gave him, "It had to be believable," Lucy's laugh was light, her hand clasping her stomach, "I never thought someone would actually show up, claiming to be your destined one but it happened and you are happy!"

"We could have just married, Lucy."

The smile fell from her face and she snorted, "We would not have been happy, not when that choice was not ours," Lucy curled her fingers in front of her chest, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before she glanced back to the cupboard where some of the lacing still stuck out, "We have always been more like siblings. Trying to conciev-" She choked on the words, shaking her head softly, "We could not have done it."

"Can we just run away, please?" Bickslow plodded forward, hands stuck deep in his trouser pockets and eyes almost as broken as they all felt, "I don't want to marry young Wendy," Evergreen lay her hand on his forearm, and he pushed towards her heat, holding her hand for a second, a half-smile on his face, "We could bring her if we want; save her too," With a watery smile Bickslow could almost laugh at the birds that sang outside, and the joy that danced in the gardens below compared to their falling world, "We could live in Enca, open a little bistro and be a family," Bickslow wrapped his other arm around Lucy, drawing her into his side and forgetting the impropriety of her undergarments, "All of us. Just like those games we used to play."

Freed's lips popped like a champagne cork before he asked, "What about Anastasia?"

"Fuck Anastasia," Evergreen mumbled against Bickslow's shoulder, "She tried to take our happiness."

"We could do it, Lucy," Bickslow begged, tears dripping off his nose as he tried not to bawl, "Just up and leave, all of us."

Laxus turned to Lucy, walking forward to take her hand, "Will you be my wife, Lucy?" Laxus held a ruby encrusted ring to her finger, and felt the tears splash onto their hands, though from who he was not sure, "Be my runaway?" Laxus watched Lucy hesitate, her chest heaving with her sorrow but her hand pressed forward, the finger slipping over her finger with ease.

"Yes."