A/N: there isn't enough elfever angst in this world.. or knight aus... im going to fix that
On more serious note, this'll probably be a shorter fic, probably seven chapters at most? Also the title, Lacrimosa, means "weeping" in Latin, for those who are curious!
The day had simply been an exasperating whirlwind. There had been five meetings Evergreen had to attend with Laxus, three hours of training rookies out in the courtyard, library organization, weapon inventory, laundry, more meetings, guard duty, more overeager rookies, and murder.
Aw, hell.
Blood seeped deep into the carpet and began to dry and crack on her skin. The white robes of a priest were quickly becoming a sinister red color and her fingers, hands, whatever she pressed against the wounds, were useless. The priest merely choked, looked towards the ceiling with terrified, glazing eyes, and grasped at her fingers as though she had the power to keep him tethered to the living.
So even priests were afraid of death.
What aggravated the situation even more was the limp and bleeding body of Ivan near the door. He wouldn't wake up- she'd already tried desperately, but all he'd done was spit out a mouthful of foam and let his eyes roll into the back of his head, let out a final yell, and then slipped into unconsciousness.
Her heart pounded; footsteps were stomping towards her, there were shouts of urgency, and she was covered in blood in a room with an unconscious royal, a dying priest, and a bloody ax that looked too much like her own.
Thunder crashed outside of the window as the door flew open, smacking Ivan straight in the head. A guard yelled as Evergreen shot past and crashed against the wall behind them, her chest heaving, before taking off down the hall before any of them really registered what was happening.
"The prince is here!" they had begun to yell. "And the head priest!"
They realized he was dead only moments later, but she was already down the stairs and rushing past scullery maids and butlers, covering her mouth with a black handkerchief and swallowing her anxiety. A few stopped, questioned the blood on her hands with a growing hysteria as news spread further and further that the head priest was dead and Prince Ivan was unresponsive.
One more hall. She just had to go down one more hall without running into some sort of guard, but it loomed forward and seemed to stretch more and more and more- did it have an end?
"Find her!"
Even though the rain beat harder on the stone ceiling with each passing minute and the thunder clapped deafeningly, the sounds of screaming, clanking metal, and shouts echoed through the palace.
"Where is she?"
"Traitor!"
"Murderer!"
"We had to know that this was going to happen with her eventually."
Something between fear and rage stirred in her stomach, but she had no time to linger on it. Knights and guards were coming through the main hall and she scrambled around the corner, shaking and wincing at a slight pain in her side. Ivan's punch wasn't the best, but it was solid, that was for sure.
"Find her! She must answer before the king."
A tall woman with flaming scarlet hair followed the brigade with a stern look set in her face like stone. Of course Erza would come looking for her; a high-ranking knight like Evergreen murdering a head priest? This was all part of Erza's job description.
Down the hall. She just had to go down this hall, and- !
A door next to her opened, a hand shot out and gripped the edges of her armor, and she suppressed a shriek as she was dragged into the dark room. Her handkerchief fell to the ground and the door slammed shut behind her. Only a small torch illuminated the room and the light danced on the wall and on the faces of those hurrying around it.
"Got yourself into a mess, didn't you, Majesty?" Bickslow grunted as he lifted a crate and set it in front of the door before going back to another one.
"It's not her fault that she was lured in," snapped back Freed. "Laxus, we're almost prepared."
Laxus leaned against the wall, flipping through a selection of papers. Relief washed into her stomach and she went to him, grabbing his arm and looking up at him desperately. "Ivan is- he-" It was hard to speak. "I didn't, and, y-y'know-"
She stopped as he glared down at her with an unreadable expression and studied her for a brief moment. He set down the papers and rested a hand on hers. "I know what Ivan is doing. We have to get you out of here."
The sounds of guards pounding through the palace seemed to be coming from all directions. Ever's throat began to close up in a panic- it wouldn't be good if they were found with her. They'd be framed as accomplices and thrown into a cell with her. They'd probably die together, and it would certainly be her fault.
Despite the howling storm outside, Bickslow slammed open the room's only window. Rain and hail poured in and the flashes of lightning became brighter and the claps of thunder louder. Laxus grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the window. Freed shoved a thin bag into her free arm, gave her shoulder a squeeze, and stepped back, unable to look at her directly. It was obvious that there were a few tears starting in his eyes.
"I hear something in this room!"
It was Erza- the four held their breath. The knight was quiet for a moment and they heard the clanging of heavy armor.
"This is her's. Laxus gave it to her."
That was right- Evergreen had dropped her handkerchief.
"She's in this area! Check this room!"
A banging began on the door, the thumping in time with her heart rate. Bickslow scowled at the door and clenched his fist around a sword on the table next to him.
"Don't hold it against her." Laxus climbed through the window and held out his arms to Evergreen. The storm raged intimidatingly behind him. "She's only doing her job."
Bickslow set down the sword and walked towards them as Laxus hoisted her up through the window. Rain immediately soaked her through her clothes and armor and chilled her to the bone, but he hugged her nonetheless. "We'll figure this out, Ever. Stay low 'til we do."
The crates by the door began to shake and Laxus pulled her along. Bickslow slammed the window shut and drew the curtains, cutting off her last views of him and Freed.
Hail pelted against her skin and slicked the grass. She would have completely fallen a long time ago, but sure-footed Laxus caught her around the waist each time she began to and kept yanking her along through the castle grounds. The rain came down so heavily that Evergreen couldn't see ten feet in front of her, but they knew the grounds well.
"Where are we going?" she shouted, but her voice was lost in the rain. "Laxus!"
"A safehouse in the West Forest," he shouted back; he had heard her after all. "Keep up with me! And for God's sake, be quiet!"
No matter how many guards came crashing through the bushes and circled the fountain and gardens, they weren't liable to find them through the sheet of rain that fell down around them. She couldn't even begin to tell when they had left castle grounds, but Laxus seemed to know where he was going. She squeezed his hand and held a hand above her head in a feeble attempt to stop the rain from hitting her. A chill had penetrated even her bones, but it was unlikely that she was going to be getting anywhere warm soon. The West Forest was a good three-hour walk in good weather, much less in something bordering a hurricane.
"People will be suspicious," she spit out after what felt like forever. "If you're gone, that is."
"'s fine," he shouted back to her. "I'll pull out the 'vengeful son' card. Everyone will believe me if I said I chased you in revenge."
Their hands hadn't separated in a very long time and they felt glued together. It was a comforting feeling. Her heart rate slowed.
"Why did he do this?" she asked.
"He's a psychopath," Laxus responded simply, as though this explained everything, and, in part, it did.
They lapsed back into silence. The rain fell harder and harder, even under the cover of thick, leafy trees. When Evergreen opened her mouth to even try to speak, it filled with water and she had to duck her head and spit it out. Laxus didn't seem to be having much better luck, as he was coughing and shaking his head, trying to expel the water in a dignified manner more befitting of a prince.
She listened through the crashes of thunder and lightning, but she heard no one pursuing them. They certainly wouldn't be sending out dogs for them; it was much too wet for their scents to linger for more than a few minutes. Horses, griffins, wyverns would be rendered useless in such a downpour that they were in.
Oh, how lucky they were that Ivan had framed her for murder on such a wretched and hideous day.
When she closed her eyes, she saw it again: Heading into the priest's room on a personal call, Ivan sitting by him with a somber look on his face, the confusion the priest displayed when he told her that, no, he had not called for anyone, and, finally the hand ax that had lodged right into the head priest's shoulder, Ivan's twisted, laughing face, and she heard the sickening crunch as he bit into some drug while they scuffled and slammed throughout the room.
He had framed her. He wanted to torture Laxus in some way, and so he had framed her, the poor little girl his son had picked up off the streets, who had once had a penchant for murder and violence. Who wouldn't believe him? Who wouldn't believe that she had killed an innocent priest with big brown eyes?
Ivan had thought out his plot damn well, and she hated to admit it.
They headed up a slope and had to finally pry their fingers apart to climb properly. Mud pooled around them, becoming softer and more slippery by the second. Her fingers slipped through the stuff and she fell once or twice, but made it to the top where Laxus proceeded to pull her along. She was grateful to have his hand in hers again, even if it was caked in mud and had small bits of rock on it.
"Almost there." Laxus' voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away, but she still held tight to his hand and struggled to breath through the water.
In the next flash of lightning, in which the ground shook and was far too close for her comfort, she made out the faint outline of a structure; it looked like a house, and she breathed heavily in relief. Water filled her mouth again.
Wind howled around the cabin and even Laxus struggled to open up the door against it. When it finally did open, he grabbed her arm, ungracefully threw her in, and slammed it behind them. The sounds of the storm still raged and howled, though they were significantly muffled by the dusty wooden walls. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled in the corners of the interior.
Laxus huffed and slumped against the wall, shook out his head and splashed water everywhere, and nearly fainted in exhaustion. Ever had to admit that she felt quite the same. They had been walking for what was likely hours through a massive storm, her knees were made of jelly, her lungs were struggling to adjust to the concept of fresh, dry air again, and there were still chips of dry, innocent blood beneath her fingernails.
What a whirlwind of a day.