Their Master's Son
SUMMARY: When Gildarts leaves for a 100 year quest, Fairy Tail's shortage of S-Class wizards causes their reputation to fall into decline. A young Laxus decides to step up and build the strongest team in the kingdom to establish their power again, once and for all. Slight AU, starts from Year X777.
NOTES:
1. For the purposes of this story, Ivan's banishment from the guild has not yet occurred. The exact time frame isn't explicitly mentioned in canon, though by the flashbacks we know that it actually happened when Laxus was still a teenager. The Raijinshuu has yet to arrive in Fairy Tail either; (I assume they only met when Laxus was older, for we see no sign of them in Natsu's younger days).
2. Gildarts only leaves for the 100 year quest later in the timeline in canon. I have shifted the event forwards by a few years. At this point he is possibly Fairy Tail's sole heavyweight aside from Makarov himself, for all the S-Class mages we have been introduced to have either yet to arrive in the guild or have yet to be promoted. Such is the case that I feel it's entirely reasonable that Fairy Tail's ranking in terms of power force is growing precarious; after all, is there anyone else qualified to take an S-Class quest besides Gildarts himself?
3. I have always felt that Laxus is a fascinating character who deserves a lot more exploration; he is a leader, strong, charismatic and with a good heart, but like everyone else he has his scars too, and he does not always make the right decisions. I toyed with the idea of exploring this little arc, and this is the result. Enjoy!
Canon timeline of members joining Fairy Tail (assumptions highlighted in bold):
X772 – Cana (6)
X774 – Gray (8)
X776 – Erza (11)
X777 – Natsu (X+11), Mystogan (12)
X778 – Mirajane (13), Elfmann (12), Lisanna (11). Laxus becomes an S-Class Mage (17).
Arc 1
- Year X777 -
It was the sharp, acid whiff of hard liquour blown in by the stiff night breeze which alerted him to his quarry's approach. Silently Laxus pushed off against the wall he had been commandeering, stretched, and listened. In his experience scent had always been the quickest to betray, followed by sound. He closed his eyes, priming his focus to his augmented hearing, and found his answer. Approaching from north-west, quick and light on its feet, reaching in approximately… one minute.
He allowed a subtle wave of probe magic to roll outwards around his general vicinity, expanding its radius until he came across what he was looking for. He identified it easily enough: an uncommon store of latent power, stagnant and of unidentifiable origin. Below that thrummed a different sort of magic, its nature spidery and caliginous. It felt like brushing against tangible smoke. Laxus' eyes narrowed. Now that was interesting.
The silent pitter-patter of footsteps drew closer still, and then halted. Laxus straightened, and thunder rumbled overhead. Time to get to business.
His quarry was a short, middle-aged man dressed in a black shirt and khaki pants. On his right index finger he wore a plain ring fashioned from three fused silver bands with no apparent engraving. To the incurious eye it was an unassuming piece of jewellery, but Laxus' probe magic zoomed in on it immediately.
"You can come out now, boy," the man called out jauntily into the silence. Likely he didn't know who he was dealing with. "I know you're there."
Wordlessly Laxus complied. He emerged from the shadows to walk straight up to the man, his posture tall and confident. In the next moment he was towering over the other, arms folded across his chest. The man's foot twitched, as if he would very much like to step back, before he thought the better of it and stood his ground.
"And here I'd thought you would be taller," Laxus said mockingly, with a touch of deliberate surprise.
The man flushed. "Okay, okay, boy, you're bigger than me, happy?" he snapped. "What do you want?"
Laxus raised his eyebrows. "If I told you something so obvious it would be degrading your intellect."
The man's fist tightened imperceptibly over the strap of his rucksack. "Well, tough luck. Sorry boy, you're big and muscly and all that, but I can't give you this so easily."
"At least you're honest about it. I like that."
The man shrugged. "I ain't no creeping thief. I'm a robber. People who try to resist me only end up getting hurt. I don't like hurting people, no I don't, but sometimes they are just so stubborn. Like you, I suppose." He took a step back, rolled his shoulders and shifted into a fighting stance. "Let's sort this out and get it over with, shall we? If you win, I'll give you the bag, and I promise never to return here. If I win, you'll forget this whole business, pack up and go home like a good little boy, eh?"
Laxus frowned. Something was off. "You seem very confident."
"Well, duh. No one can beat me in a fight, not even a trained mage," the man said matter-of-factly. He flexed his hand, and light flashed off his ring. "Want to know why? I, Spectre, wield a form of Lost Magic. At first contact you'll become paralyzed. Then I will look into your eyes and control you. I will wipe your mind and alter everything you know until all you know is obedience, my will." He stepped closer, grinning up in Laxus' face. "And you know what's the best bit? You'll think you're acting of your own accord. Until I release you, that is. You'd go on living like a puppet, never knowing what I – EHHH!"
In a flash Laxus had fired a bolt of energy at the rucksack. It fell to the ground in a messy pile of burnt nylon, spilling its contents everywhere. A few battered pieces of fruit rolled out of the bag, followed by a few snacks. Laxus kicked it over; the rest of it was empty. Something in his mind clicked.
The strange tension when he showed up at the village chief's house for the job. The scant reward. Now things were quickly falling into place. The village chief had probably been hoping that no one would have taken the job. Had an average mage wandered into their trap, Spectre would probably have made good on his word and cast a mind-control curse. Laxus straightened. Well, too bad for them, he thought. He had never once been average. While Spectre's ring might contain an ancient power, its wielder was embarrassingly weak in comparison. There was no way he could maintain it over anyone over any extended period of time, let alone someone of Laxus' strength. Then there was the fact that Spectre had just blabbed out the nature of his magic in his moment of arrogance coupled with drunkenness, which anyone who wielded Mind Magic would identify as an extremely stupid thing to do.
"Sorry Spectre," Laxus drawled, his hands curling into fists. "No deal."
He leapt forwards, quick as streaking lightning, fist pulsing with power. His first blow caught the man in the cheek, but Spectre somehow managed to throw up a flimsy defence. At the touch of its owner's magic, Spectre's ring flared to life, and Laxus found himself facing a near-solid purple blue shield.
"Not so fast, lightning-boy," Spectre grinned. He drew his hands together as if in prayer, and power rippled out from him, dark and ancient was its origin. Cloying mist gathered around him, streaks of heavy purple and indigo, poised and ready to attack. Spectre threw his head back and began to chant -
"Curse of the Ancient Scr-"
Laxus had always been faster.
"Raging Bolt!" Laxus commanded.
Thunder cleaved the skies. In the next moment, a pillar of lightning lanced down from the heavens to incinerate everything within its vicinity. Trees fell with an almighty crash; the lights in the street winked out before abruptly bursting into flames. The man never stood a chance.
Laxus strode over and retrieved the ring from Spectre's blackened fingers. He was met with little resistance. He turned it over between his fingers, running his thumb across the now dull surface.
"By the way, it wasn't Lost Magic," Laxus said, conversationally. He pocketed it, smirked as the man made a high keening whimper as he turned to leave. "But I'm afraid it is now."
The village chief was all charmed and delighted when Laxus arrived with the news that their notorious resident robber had been dealt with. As the villagers gathered, the chief fashioned the promised reward out of thin air and presented it to Laxus. In that brief moment, Laxus caught the familiar scent of his magic; caliginous and slippery, like smoke.
" – on behalf of the village of Forren, Wisteria and Fennin - please accept it as a token of appreciation from all of us."
Applause rang in his ears. Laxus took the money from the man, clenching it in his fist, but something made him pause. He could simply leave it at that; he had, after all, received what was due. It wasn't even a handsome sum. Besides he had already taken measures to ensure that the villagers would discover the deception for themselves soon enough. But strangely, there was something about the admiration of the locals, their open adoration and gratitude that weighed heavily in his heart. Also, he could think of a number of Fairy Tail members who wouldn't approve. Namely, Gramps. Laxus sighed. All this trouble for nothing, he thought.
He turned towards the door as if to leave, but right before he crossed the threshold, he stopped, back half-turned.
"By the way," he began casually, "I think I may have something for you, Chief."
He slipped his hand into his pocket and produced Spectre's ring. Even while holding it he could feel its power, dark and sticky and saccharine, like licorice. The Chief froze.
"I-It's not – what is it, is that a ring?" he said with a failed attempt nonchalance.
Laxus wasn't fooled.
"Oh, is it not yours then?" Laxus countered, and he made an involuntary gesture as if he were going to keep it for himself.
The village chief was white as a sheet. "Y-yes it's mine!" he stammered before thinking the better of it. He caught himself, stopped and recovered quickly. "Ah, I see, you must have gotten it from Spectre! It's an old family heirloom, you see. Yes, he must have stolen it from me, that bastard – "
Laxus cocked his head to one side. "It must be a precious to you," he mused.
The village chief nodded once, then twice, fervently. He reached out involuntarily, as if expecting Laxus to hand it over. "Yes, it is. I… thank you, I will forever remember the help of Fairy Tail – "
"You should have taken better care of it, then."
With a single thought, motes of lightning sparked to life around his fingertips – and Laxus crushed the ring in his fist. It resisted a moment before crumbling into dust. The wind whistling through the open door snatched the rest of it quickly, which glittered momentarily before falling softly to the floor. Around him, the crowd looked on, stunned.
He turned back to look at the village chief, a warning hard and clear in his stormy eyes.
"One more thing," he said, silkily, sparks dancing threateningly around his fists. "I do not accept money from thieving fiends."
Without ceremony Laxus proceeded to throw the reward on the floor, every last Jewel he'd accepted from the man. Cash scattered around their feet, fluttering feebly in the gradually building storm.
"10,000 Jewels is all you could afford, after collecting donations from three other neighbouring villages?" he said, voice hard and dangerous. "I don't think so."
He turned around to face the rest of the villagers, thunder overhead roiling to match his ire.
"Your robbed belongings are currently stored in your chief's house," he said in a clipped tone, voice pitched to carry. "The door to his private storage has been conveniently left open. You will also find your robber 'Spectre' lying on his doorstep. Not terribly threatening charred black and without his ring, I imagine. As for the rest, I'll leave it to you to deal with your chief."
Then, unheeding of the gasps of shock and the open-mouthed stares from the villagers, Laxus walked out of the door, into the brewing storm.
- [1] Natsu -
Laxus returned to the guild wet, weary and irritable, to the stench of something foul burning.
It did not take long for him to locate the source. It was a small boy younger than he was, sporting a head full of spiky pink hair and wrapped in a strange white scaly-scarf, drooling fire. Enough fire, it seemed, to burn steadily through the guild floor.
Laxus stared at the scene, aghast. None of the other occupants seemed particularly bothered by the noxious smell, which mingled with the strong unpleasant miasma of alcohol, but then again his sense of smell was greatly augmented. He suspected none of them were aware of the patch of burnt floor either. The adults were, unsurprisingly, too busy indulging in either alcohol or vapid gossip.
For a fleeting moment a wave of frustration and anger rose in him – so placid, so complacent, the lot of them – before he ruthlessly squashed the thought. Gramps was still their leader. (They did not deserve a place here.) They were Fairy Tail, the strongest guild in all of Fiore (hanging there by a thread). It was enough.
Behind him, someone entered through the open door and made a noise of disgust. He didn't need to turn around to identify the newcomer, but he did anyway.
"Father," Laxus greeted, though he was careful to keep the warmth from his voice. Affection was not something Ivan encouraged. "What are you doing here? You rarely visit the guild."
Ivan barely acknowledged his presence. The elder man's face was twisted in an ugly grimace as he witnessed the inebriated state of the guild members.
"Look at them," he said soft but angry, and full of loathing. "Worthless drunkards, the load of them. They would lie here and waste away, while we fight every day for the reputation of our guild, and the basic funds to keep this dump running. They should just be thrown out to the dogs, the filthy bastards."
His heart thumped faster at the insult, but he refused to openly acknowledge it. Instead, he said, "Gramps won't like you talking like that."
Ivan gave a short bark of laughter. "He can say whatever shit he likes, I don't give a damn. If he can't see what he's doing to the guild, accepting filth left right and centre – then he's going mad. They will only become our ruin. If he doesn't turn them out, I will leave before that."
With that comment Ivan stormed out as soon as he had come, leaving Laxus standing by himself at the doorway. He stood there rooted as his thoughts knotted into a cold, dense tangle. Uncertain.
Granted, it was hardly the first time Ivan had made a similar threat. It certainly wouldn't be his last. But Laxus couldn't help but wonder when Ivan would really make good of it. After all, there was no way Makarov would come to a compromise. Our guild is our family, his grandfather always used to say. Things like reputation or money are of little consequence, and such grudges should never be held against each other. Fairy Tail would always be home to anyone who needed one.
But what was a family? They never really cared for each other, him and the rest of the members - at least not beyond their own personal interest. To them he was always just 'Makarov's grandson', just as Ivan was 'Makarov's son'. He went on his business and they went on with theirs. The only thing that bound them together was an identical mark branded against their skin; much like the blood ties between him and Ivan. But perhaps that was what it meant, he thought. A physical display of unity, nothing less, but nothing more either.
" – someone leave the door open? I can feel a cold draft wafting in," someone complained from the bar. Eventually they noticed him. "Oi, it's Makarov's grandson."
"You're back," another called lazily, and Laxus knew they could hardly care less. "Shut the door properly will you, you're letting all the warmth out."
He turned and did as he was told. The adults turned back to their idle chatter.
" – hear about the beauty pageant contest last week, the girl was a real looker – "
" – Karen, wasn't it? I dunno, I think I preferred the runner-up, her clothes weren't quite so eccentric – "
"For goodness' sake it's called fashion, Wakaba. If you can't appreciate that…"
The new boy was beginning to stir from his position on the floor. Laxus filtered out his thoughts and the conversation around him to focus on the strange addition to their guild. All around the boy, the polished hardwood was steadily being reduced to brittle coal. Not only did he drool a lot, it seemed as though his fire possessed an atypical amount of latent power.
A Dragon-Slayer, perhaps…?
Intrigued, Laxus randomly snatched a flyer lying on the ground. It was a trivial little job with a paltry reward, dated weeks ago. He sent a few sparks skittering across the paper with a single thought, watched as it caught fire. Then he nudged the boy roughly with his foot.
"Oi. A treat for you."
A pair of bright, slanting eyes opened to regard him curiously. Laxus simply tossed over the small ball of fire, and watched in fascination as the younger boy immediately devoured it whole without question. When he was finished, Laxus stood back and appraised the Fire Dragon-Slayer with interest.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The boy grinned back. "I'm Natsu!"
"You were raised by a dragon?"
"Igneel," Natsu said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "His name is Igneel. He's taken care of me for as long as I can remember, but he suddenly disappeared on me. I searched for him everywhere but I couldn't find him."
A real Dragon-Slayer, Laxus thought, delighted. If Natsu could be trained to wield his powers… the possibilities were endless. Together, they would be nigh invincible. It didn't matter if the adults were slowly whittled down to the weak, the intoxicated and the craven – Fairy Tail would have a strong younger generation rising up to take their place, with him as their leader. Erza, he knew, was already growing to be a fearsome warrior of her own right. Then there was also the rest – Cana, who was proficient at Card magic, and Gray, who apparently used Ice magic.
He could help them to grow stronger, he thought, with a quiet flare of hope. Shape them into a formidable team that would quell the budding rumours of Fairy Tail's decline, and together they could establish the power of their guild again, once and for all.
Perhaps then, Ivan would be proud of their guild – be proud of him – and maybe, he would want to stay.
" – and so I kept walking and walking by myself, and one day Gramps – our Master - found me and brought me here," Natsu finished. He frowned up at Laxus from his cross-legged position on the floor. "Come to think of it, why haven't I seen you around? It's been some time since I've been here."
"I've been out on a few errands," Laxus said airily, not bothering to elaborate. "I haven't been back for a fortnight."
Natsu was immediately fascinated. "Really?! What sort of errands? Are you taking on mage jobs? What sort of mage are you? How much did you earn?"
Laxus' mood darkened slightly at the line of questions. "For my last job, not a jewel," he replied, keeping his voice carefully light.
Natsu was uncomprehending. "You forgot to collect your payment?"
"I refused to take any of it," Laxus corrected, with a faint prickle of irritation. At Natsu's wordless prompt, Laxus continued. "There was a request to eliminate a local robber who apparently wielded incredible power," he elaborated. "Turns out he was in league with the village chief all along. They're brothers. When the loot from the small village proved insufficient, the chief gathered money from the surrounding villages to offer a reward for any mage who would neutralize the robber, though he secretly kept a large portion for himself. I didn't want any of their money, so I threw it on the floor and left."
"That's so cool!" Natsu exclaimed, his eyes wide. "You ended up throwing your payment after working for two weeks? What about the chief? Was he really powerful?"
Laxus privately wondered if Natsu understood much of it, if any at all. "That was only my last job. I went on a few others before then," he said, only managing to answer the first question.
At that, both chief and the robber were immediately forgotten. Laxus wasn't surprised. In the short time they had met, Natsu had displayed a keen but extremely short-lived interest for everything – from Laxus' room to their current conversation.
"You mean you went on more than one job? That's amazing! Did you beat up any monkeys? I met a monkey once, it was huge and it attacked me. But the next time I see it I'm going to kick its butt! What magic did you say you use again? Say, Laxus, do you have anything to eat? I'm starving!"
Laxus' brow furrowed at the rapid-fire and questioned the wisdom of his decision to bring the boy back to his place. Still, it was nice to talk to someone new for a change. Granted, Natsu did not seem terribly intelligent, neither did he have the makings of a cool-headed warrior Laxus had been hoping to cultivate… but he was different. For the first time since he could remember, someone was looking at him as who he was – simply, Laxus – and nobody else. Not Ivan's child, and certainly not Makarov's grandson. He could not expect the deception (or rather, omission of truth) to last for long, but he found himself revelling in the novelty when it did.
With a deliberate snap of his fingers, Laxus conjured a bolt of thunder in his hands. Its warmth crackled comfortably against his skin, like the glow of open wonder on Natsu's face.
"You're a thunder mage?!" Natsu exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. He jumped to his feet, two balls of fire circling his fists. "Laxus! Fight me!" he demanded.
Laxus rolled his eyes. "Tomorrow," he promised, at the same time his fist shot out to land squarely on the top of Natsu's head, flattening the younger boy instantaneously. Not too hard, but he hadn't pulled it either. He allowed himself a grin at the sight. "Tonight, you can sleep here. My room has been charmed so that it's impervious to fire," – or lightning - "…so there's no chance of the building burning down because of your drool."
Natsu rubbed his head absently, looking rather confused. Laxus went over and rifled through his backpack for his leftover rations before throwing them over. Natsu caught a few but some hit him dead on his head.
"I'm afraid that's the best you're going to get at this hour," Laxus said with a shrug. He replaced his bag, grabbed a towel and slung it over his shoulder.
"I'm going for a shower. Don't touch anything if you know what's good for you. Goodnight."
He turned and left for the door. Natsu however managed to get the last word in.
"Tomorrow, then! You promised!"
Laxus gave the boy a careless wave to show that he understood. Still, he had to hide a smirk as he headed for his bath. Tomorrow, at least, there would be something to look forwards to.
Laxus woke with a crick in his neck to sunlight pouring through his window.
He had returned from his bath last night to a mess of food wrappers on his floor and Natsu sleeping soundly on his bed. He found that he was unable to begrudge the boy for the latter offence – he had, after all, neglected to mention where exactly Natsu would be sleeping, despite assuming the sleeping bag on the floor had been the obvious choice. The litter, however, was another matter entirely.
In the end, too tired for an argument, Laxus had simply cleared it up himself the best he could, before sinking to the floor himself. He briefly entertained the notion of shoving the boy out of his bed, but oblivion claimed him before the notion could take hold.
Now, staring at the utter disarray of things and his tangled unmade sheets, Laxus was beginning to have second thoughts about his leniency. The loud, boisterous pink-haired boy was nowhere to be found; he'd probably wandered back to the guild after waking in search of something to eat.
He better hoped he would stay that way for the time being, Laxus thought rather irritably. If he found Natsu within the next hour, he might just give the other a thrashing. Then again, the time limit might just be irrelevant. He had promised Natsu a fight, after all.
He went through his morning ablutions with rote-learned efficiency, warmed up, trained in physical combat for an hour, meditated another half, showered, and changed. When he finally went down to the guild, the bar was already filled with its regular customers lounging around with their midday drink. Laxus nodded curtly in their direction before making his way to an empty table for a meal. Normally he would have preferred eating out, away from the rowdy guild and their rumbustiousness, but today was an exception. He had a Dragon-Slayer to train. Or rather, to thrash.
He made quick work of his beef stew and downed the rest of his energy drink. For a moment he allowed himself to feel contented as the weariness of a rough fortnight's worth of travel melted away from his shoulders. On his first team mission weeks ago, during an arduous trek in the Phoenix Mountains, Macao had once stopped to sigh wistfully at the horizon in the direction of Magnolia. Home, he'd said, and Wakaba had greatly shared his longing. Laxus had merely attributed their cravings to the lack of booze on their journey. He now wondered suddenly if this was what they had missed. The vociferous arguments blossoming every now and then at the bar, the scuffles which broke out as quickly as they resolved themselves, the permanent miasma of alcohol and sweat, the admittedly, delicious food. He had never been overtly fond of any of the above, save perhaps the last, but after the long solitude, Laxus perceived that there was a strange… rightness to it.
"LAXUS! Laxus, you're up!"
He turned around fully, reverie shattered. Natsu was bounding excitedly towards him, a ball of flames in hand. Behind him trailed Gray, looking extremely annoyed. Erza was nowhere to be found.
"Fight me Laxus!" Natsu declared loudly, jumping up on his table to prove his point. "Go on, you promised!"
This inevitably drew attention from the adults. Laxus fought the urge to groan. Perhaps coming indoors had been a bad idea after all. He'd meant for them to settle things outside – preferably a large expanse with no onlookers and a wide margin of allowance for collateral damage. Now however things were rapidly derailing out of hand.
"You're challenging Laxus now?" someone called from the bar, sounding amused. "There's no way you can beat him yet."
Natsu ignored this completely in favour of a full battle-charge. "Roar of the Fire Dragon - !"
Laxus simply pushed out his palm facing outwards, tell-tale sparks dancing in flickers around his fingertips. Immediately Natsu's flames were smothered into non-existence. But the Fire Dragon-Slayer was anything but not tenacious. In the next second he had launched his next attack, and the next –
"Fire Dragon's Brilliant Flame! Flaming Horn of the Fire Dragon!"
Once again, his attacks were completely nullified against Laxus. Fire Dragon-Slayer he might be, but without proper training or attaining any refinement which came with maturity, Natsu's power was limited at best. Laxus rose to his feet completely unscathed. If this was how Natsu wanted to play his hand, so be it.
"I think it's time for payback now," he drawled, allowing himself a smirk.
Without another word, he drew back and punched Natsu right in the face, lightning sparking around his fist. The younger boy gave a howl of pain and swiped at him with a fireball but missed. Laxus was briefly tempted to draw it out, just to see what else the boy could do, but he recognized that a heavily one-sided battle in front of a watching crowd won him few merits. He swiftly conjured a bolt of lightning in his fist and slammed it down on the boy's head, though he was careful to reign in his blow. Natsu crashed face-first into the table pitifully to the applause of the onlookers; the men had always loved a fight.
"Tough luck, boy," one called, laughing. "You'll need to train for a long time before you're up to Laxus' level."
"Of course Natsu couldn't have beaten him," another said, "That's Makarov's grandson for you."
The small flicker of pride in his chest withered and died. They said it so easily, Makarov's grandson. Like his power could be attributed to nothing but his bloodline alone, not his rigorous training or his hard work. How simply everything else could be overlooked, because he was just living up to a family name.
Resentment bubbled up in him, sharp and ugly. With effort he reigned in his temper, opting instead to raise an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest.
"Think twice before challenging me again next time," he said, coolly, his heart still thudding hard in his chest.
He turned and walked away, from the awed whispers and applause of the watching crowd.
"You didn't fight me properly," was Natsu's first accusation upon finding him idly watching the gentle flow of the river, near the outskirts of the woods. Laxus didn't bother to respond to the statement.
"You're good at picking up scents," he said instead. Natsu shrugged and settled down beside him.
"I found your scent when I was running into the forest to avoid Erza," he confided in a low voice, his tone perfectly serious. "She got mad cus' I drew on her face when she was sleeping." Natsu gave a dramatic shudder. "Erza is very scary when she's mad."
Laxus raised a single brow. "You would be afraid of her, but not me?" he asked, half in jest, half curious.
He did not doubt that she was a formidable opponent, but still his skills were unrivalled in their age group.
Natsu shrugged as if it were obvious and leaned back on his paunches. "Erza is like, scary scary," he explained eloquently. "She's super strong too. I challenged her to a fight the other day and got beaten up. Man it really hurt!" He squinted up at Laxus curiously. "Hang on, do you mean that you can beat Erza in a fight?"
Laxus scoffed. "Of course. I'm Master Makarov's grandson after all, aren't I?" The bitterness of the title still lingered, heavy even as an afterthought.
Here it was Natsu's turn to scoff. "What does being anyone's grandson got to do with anything?" he said dismissively. "Can you really beat Erza?"
Laxus blinked, caught off guard. For years he had trained hard to escape the weight of that shadow. Believed that perhaps, if he surpassed even Makarov himself, people would learn to acknowledge him for his own. That finally, the person who had understood him at all was a boy younger than himself – none too bright, but not slow either – it filled him with a strange sort of amusement.
"I could," he replied honestly. Slowly, he loosened a fist he did not realize he'd clenched until then. Then he caught Natsu's mouth opening for the obvious request out of the corner of his eye and snuffed out the sparks dancing around his fingertips forcefully. "But I'm not going to give you a demonstration, if that's what you're going to ask."
Natsu was indignant. "Why not! Are you scared of Erza too?" he challenged.
"No," Laxus said firmly. "My power is not meant for fighting my comrades."
"You agreed to fight me!" Natsu protested loudly, literally spitting fire as he hopped on foot to the next.
"I am open to challenges," Laxus replied, "and I do not mind a friendly spar to gauge the levels of my peers. But instigating one when my victory is already certain does not do me any favours." On the other hand, there was no need of frightening mere ants with his power. Derogatory it may sound, but certainly true. Erza might be a worthy opponent, but she was not his equal. Not yet. He got up, brushing off moss and dirt.
"I did have second intentions when I agreed to fight you, however," Laxus said, and he flashed Natsu a grin. It was almost predatory. "I have never met another Dragon-Slayer before, and I admit to be curious. Come on, show me what you've really got."
The effect was instantaneous. Natsu leapt up from his perch, eyes blazing at the challenge. "You'll fight me properly this time? Promise?"
Laxus rolled back his shoulders. "Don't cry for mercy later, because I'll have none," he warned.
Natsu's face brightened. In the next second he sprang up into the air, hands fisted around golden fire.
"Fire Dragon's Brilliant Flame!"
The merciless persona had, obviously, been a lie.
Laxus had to pull back his attacks in fear of inflicting some serious damage, but he had to admit that the Fire Dragon-Slayer was definitely more durable than most. Time after time the boy was repetitively hit by bolts of his lightning, but instead of getting discouraged, the curious boy only intensified his attacks. He also shouted the most humorous things at the top of his lungs, like "IT DOESN'T HURT! IT DOESN'T DOESN'T DOESN'T AHHHHHH HUUURT!" and "I'M GETTING FIRED UP!". The former grew exponentially in its frequency the longer their fight dragged out.
Eventually Natsu was reduced to a bruised, quivering heap at the foot of a lightning-blasted tree, whining about his future victory in a weak voice. Laxus was primarily amused, but he was also impressed.
"You're not half bad for someone your age," Laxus commented, crossing the distance between them to stand before Natsu.
"Next – time," Natsu wheezed, stubborn to the end. "I – will – beat you. I wiiiilll…"
Laxus folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not sure about that. Though," here he paused for a moment, "I could teach you to become stronger, if you want. I do have an… understanding of Dragon-Slayer abilities."
Natsu sat up so fast he very nearly avoided crashing face-first into Laxus' leg. "You can make me stronger?" he asked, the hope brimming in his eyes threatening to spill over.
Laxus found himself giving the younger boy a smirk-smile, both a threat and a promise.
"Oh, definitely. Though I'm not sure if you are up to it."
Natsu looked as though he could not understand who on earth would not be up for it. "I am. I am, I am, I AM! I'M ALL FIRED UP - !" he shouted with passionate feeling. In response Laxus simply stood there impassively, arms folded as if gauging Natsu's devotion. Yes, he was curious about a dragon-raised Slayer, but he wasn't about to train some unappreciative brat who would grow complacent and give up at the first sign of difficulties. Training was, after all, a continuous, onerous labour. Though, judging from what he'd seen of the boy's character, both attributes did seem rather unlikely.
As if to prove his point, Natsu sat up completely, injuries forgotten. He was bleeding from numerous scrapes all over his body, and Laxus doubted he had more than a drop of magic left in his body; but yet the boy was undeterred. Instead Natsu proceeded to clamber clumsily to his feet, his face set and determined. "Let's start! Where do we start?" Natsu demanded impatiently, as if he wasn't wobbling precariously on his feet.
Laxus felt strangely pleased. Finally, he thought. Someone else in the guild with a real backbone.
He said none of this out loud.
"We'll start when you become reacquainted with standing properly," Laxus informed him. "…without stumbling all over the place," he interjected, when Natsu opened his mouth to argue. Natsu snapped his mouth shut for a total of three seconds.
"Tomorrow?" the other suggested instead, eagerly.
Laxus turned around to appraise the boy fully. "Will you do everything I tell you to?" he challenged.
Natsu did not even hesitate. "Yes! I will draw a moustache and a beard on Erza's face for you!"
The last bit was quite irrelevant. But…
"Tomorrow, then," Laxus agreed, and he met the boy's smaller fist with his own.
Author's notes:
So... was it okay? *half-hiding I've reread it to the point that I can't even tell if the flow is smooth or not! One of the greatest struggles of writing. And I'm still trying to find my voice, somewhere. :/ I would really appreciate a beta. If anyone is interested, please PM me.
Review pretty pretty please? :)
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