She didn't turn when she heard the door open. He stood in the doorway, watching her. Lucy was facing away from him, her eyes trained on the meager image she could see outside. A pale hand curled convulsively around the bars on the window. Despite her obvious disquiet, her voice remained steady. "I'm to be executed tomorrow, aren't I?" She asked the question lightly, as if asking if it was going to rain.

"Yes."

A light tremor spread through her whole body. His heart ached for the deposed heir of Fiore. She had no hope left. The last of her supporters had been driven out of the country by his father. Her loyal Knights, all fallen on the field of battle or in exile. No help was coming for Princess, now Queen, Lucy.

Six months ago, no one would have guessed the Heartfilia dynasty would fall. The line lay secure in Princess Lucy and the marriage being arranged for her. It seemed they were invincible. Her father's death at the hands of his trusted advisor was a twist of events no one could have predicted.

Now Queen in name only, her life was in the hands of Acnologia, who was proving himself to be a cruel tyrant. The people had reluctantly begun to accept Acnologia as their King, but the murmurs about the fate of the Celestial Queen were causing his father worry. As long as she was alive, he could be overthrown. Loose ends need to be clipped, Acnologia had said rather cryptically to his second in command.

Now he knew what his father meant.

"I thought as much." Her quiet whisper took him off guard. She had guessed she would be executed? Of course she had. She knew the intricacies of politics. She was a liability and a threat to the current King. Exile or death were the only options given to her.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes, I do," He insisted, incredulously. His finger stabbed toward his chest, like a dagger to the heart. "It's because of my father that you are in this position. I am to blame, at least a little bit, for your fate."

Lucy shook her head. "No, you are not to blame," she corrected gently. He tried to protest, but she shushed him almost instantly. A tiny smile brushed over her lips. "As long as you are alive, there is hope. Hope for my kingdom." He stared at the sad-eyed, yet still smiling Queen. What was she saying? Was she trying to comfort him?

How ironic; he had come to her to see if there was any way he could help her, short of releasing her, and now she was consoling him. She, who was to die with the dawn, worried more for him than he for her.

In that moment, he fell in love with her.

His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he stood next to his father. He clenched them in an effort to stop the body-wracking tremors threatening to erupt. Acnologia had insisted his son and heir was to attend the Princess's execution.

If he could stop her death, even at the expense of his own life, he would.

Drums ruffled.

Across the way, even as she moved to place her head on the block, Lucy's eyes raised and met his with magnetic force. There was no regret, no hatred in her eyes. One last smile was gifted to him.

The axe fell. Blood misted the early morning air.

The queen was dead.

Long live the king.

Rogue jolted awake, gasping and clutching at his heart. Drums still thundered in his ears, slowly quieting, only to be replaced by the thundering of his heart.

It was a dream. It had only been a dream. He hadn't just watched the execution of a Princess he cared for. He trembled and let out a shaky laugh as he ran both hands through his messy hair.

A glance at Frosch assured him his Exceed partner was still fast asleep. Rogue silently rolled out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. It was a welcome sensation, pulling him back to reality. He staggered his way to the bathroom. Judging by the silence of the house, he hadn't woken Sting with his dreams.

Rogue splashed water on his face, dried it off, and slumped against the cool sink. This was the fifth time this month he'd had a dream about Fairy Tail's Celestial Mage that ended in her death. If that wasn't ominous, he didn't know what was.

Why though? What could they possibly mean, these horrific dreams of his? He sighed. Well, there was no way of knowing. He could only face them head on and hope they would go away.