Risenfromash: Laxus and Freed have a very naughty habit of occupying my brain and they have been quite adamant that despite their apparent love of privacy that they wanted me to tell you about how they met, back in what Laxus describes with a smirk as his 'innocent days'. This is a multiple part story about the formation of the bond between him and a certain emerald-haired rune mage who is determined to never leave him even if it means going to hell.

Good Together

Part 1:

Freed Justine had a spring in his step as he walked down Canal Street. After a tedious train ride across the Fiore countryside he was overjoyed to be liberated from the confines of the iron contraption on such a gorgeous day. Looking up at the blue sky he wondered if his former home had ever been blessed with such amazingly puffy clouds. Had he ever before so easily imagined them to be dragons and demons?

Pausing to watch a passing boat he realized that some of the exhilaration he was feeling might be more than simply the excitement of being in a new place for the first time. He could swear that the flow of magic was greater here than in the average city and it made him wonder what might be the source of the power he sensed. Determined to investigate Magnolia's secrets he decided to check into an inn and then explore the town until he retired that evening. He pulled out a tourist map he had picked up at the train station. It showed in which general direction to go to encounter a number of eateries and accommodations, as well as the best routes to the Kardia Cathedral, which served as the centerpiece for the community.

What a magnificent afternoon, he thought to himself as he tucked the map back in his leather satchel and headed toward the cluster of inns he had located on it.

Perhaps it had been examining that map that ensured he was targeted or perhaps it was the look of wonderment upon his face as he ventured toward the city center or… maybe it was the valuable sword attached to his hip, but whatever the case, Freed's 'magnificent afternoon' was about to take a turn for the worst because a gang of thieves had chosen him as their next victim. The bandits began tailing him shortly after he left the train depot, all the while sizing him up and strategizing how best to separate him from that expensive sword, his jewels, and whatever other prizes they might find he carried with him.

Unfortunately for the emerald-haired mage he remained blissfully ignorant that anyone was paying him any mind. Oblivious to the attention of the bandits he instead noticed the cats lining up outside a fish shop begging for scraps of the day's catch and a book store that he was definitely going to have to visit before leaving town and a shop displaying all the latest in lacrima-powered appliances. Freed glanced at the disc player in the window before heading north.

It was a couple blocks past Appliance Outlet that the bandits made their move. First, a portly man who a moment before had been leaning against a building reading a newspaper suddenly leapt at the mage holding a knife to his throat as another man, this one tall and lanky, stopped his leisurely stroll and ran at him. The two men hustled him into a nearby alley where a third man was waiting demanding that Freed hand over his valuables or lose his life.

Dammit!, Freed thought as the three men converged upon him. I know better than to make myself an easy target for thieves! But he told himself there would be plenty of time to chastise himself later, as right then he needed to figure out how to get out of his predicament without losing his jewels, his precious sword, or his life.

I'm outnumbered, but I'd rather die than have these miscreants touch my blade and, smiling darkly he remembered, they don't know that I'm a mage which gives me the upper hand. My sword and my runic script are ready for a fight!

The man who had lain in wait in the alley barked orders to his cronies, telling them to take Freed's bag and check all of his pockets for jewels. Freed thrashed against the restraint distressed by the thought of his sword in the hands of such riff-raff.

At least this will be good practice for me, he thought. I'm sure they won't be the last hooligans who attempt to steal from me. But aren't they in for a surprise when they realize I'm not merely a swordsman?

He strategized that if he could free himself from the hold of the two men before the third loosened his belt he would then be able to unsheathe his sword and then the fun could really begin. As they struggled to check his pockets and rummage through his bags he pretended to be putting up a fight, but his attention was actually on his fingertips which were constructing threads of runic scripts as he fought.

"What's your problem?" growled the short robber who had a long, hooked nose that resembled the beak of a falcon. "We told you to hand over your jewels!"

"And I said that I will not," the young man said eyeing the three ruffians confidently.

"Oh, ok," the third robber replied sarcastically. He was clearly the mouthpiece of the group, and Freed surmised that he was probably the ringleader of the trio. "I'm sorry, but you don't get to decide."

Freed tipped his head to one side as the two men holding his arms tightened their grasp on him. "Oh, I believe that it is my choice." Immediately, as though providing the punctuation at the end of his statement, both of the men who had been restraining him let out yelps and leapt backward staring at their hands. Freed's arms had suddenly become an undulating red mass of lava, scalding their hands, but leaving the mage completely pain free just as Freed had specified with his runes.

"Shit! He's a mage!" shouted the tall thief, his eyes wide.

"Don't get spooked by his little parlor trick. He hasn't got a guild mark," the leader grunted. "He's just a wannabe."

Freed heard the insult as not only a put-down of his skill level but also against his chosen field of magic and he seethed, his one eyebrow not hidden by emerald locks arching in agitation.

"A novice I may be, but a 'wannabe?' I assure you that you are not so lucky," Freed said shooting clusters of runic script in the direction of one of his attackers while his other arm unsheathed his sword. "Despite your poor behavior, I will allow you to leave here unscathed," he said as he pointed his sword at each of them in turn. "You remain, and I will not be so kind."

The leader threw his head back and cackled. Despite Freed's impressive display of magic it was impossible for him to fathom that this scrawny noble could be a genuine threat to his gang.

"Shoot him," the gang leader ordered which struck Freed as strange as he hadn't seen that the men were armed with guns or bows, but then he heard something from the rooftops above them. There was someone on either rooftop with a firearm! They're smarter than I gave them credit for, he admitted to himself as a wave of panic washed over him. He could take the three on the ground, he was quite sure of that… but two gunmen, as well? Should he try to set more runes or simply fight back with his saber? Could he make a run for it? His mind was spinning with calculations, trajectories, and every runic spell he knew.

I've got to stay calm. I can do this. I can do this! There are more of them, but I am wiser, faster, better. This is what I've trained for.

Seeing the exit from the alley blocked by the gang leader, Freed took off running in the opposite direction, repelling himself off crates and garbage cans leaving a trail of glowing, translucent runic symbols before turning around and charging headlong at the gang's leader.

The portly thug shouted, "Come on, pretty boy. You don't wanna do this. Give us the sword and the jewels and we'll take it easy on you," as he jumped in front of his boss. Freed's sword slashed across his legs and he screamed.

The tallest of the thieves lunged at the swordsman attempting to unsteady him. Coming dangerously close to grabbing Freed's leg he sneered at him with yellow-brown teeth. Freed cringed. What a disturbing lack of oral hygiene!

"For God's sake, man! Buy a toothbrush!" the outraged mage shouted as he swung his sword slicing the tall man's shirt and chest as though it were made of paper. The wounded man howled and staggered to his right only to run into an invisible barrier Freed had constructed as he ran down the alleyway. If only I had the time to encase them in a trap, he thought as he slowed an oncoming bullet with a wall of runes.

As confident as the young man was in his abilities he knew he couldn't keep this up forever. He needed to escape this alley, but despite his attacks the men continued to block his way out and he didn't think he could manage to get past the three on the ground and dodge the bullets of the two gunmen.

He swung his legs using them as weapons in addition to his sword, but he could sense the gang closing in on him as he batted away a bullet as though he were playing racquetball.

But completely unbeknownst to him he had once attracted the attention of a stranger. Early on in the fight, another young man had appeared at the junction of the street and the alleyway and began watching the action as though viewing it on a lacrimavision. Judging from the marks on his arms and a prominent scar over his right eye this youth appeared to be no stranger to combat himself, but he wasn't sure what had attracted his attention to the alley and made him pull his spikey headphones from his ears. Had he heard something even though he had been listening to his music? Or had he smelt the tell-tale odor of fight-induced sweat? Whatever the reason, something made him glance in the direction of the action and he was immediately mesmerized by the sight of the green-haired teen fighting off an entire gang of bandits.

D'Artagnan there isn't half bad, the scarred teenager smirked. He's pretty good with his sword and with that letter-writing magic. I wonder where he's from… I don't think I've ever seen him before.

Watching as Freed confounded his would-be attackers with his runic circles and swings of his saber the teen found himself thoroughly entertained.

Wow! I can't believe the little guy hasn't given up yet.

But as the fight continued the teenager with the headphones saw the rune mage's carefully synchronized attacks grow more frenzied. Freed's physical and magical energy were rapidly being drained and the tide of the battle seemed to be turning against him. The rune wizard was becoming harried as the tallest thief picked up an iron pipe and waved it menacingly in Freed's direction.

The on looking teen frowned. If that mage gets hit by that he's done for.

If he hits me with that I'm done for, thought Freed as he successfully dodged a swing of the pipe only to be immediately kicked in the gut by the group's leader. The wind was knocked out of him and he was sent flying backward into the brick building on the south side of the alley, his body crumpling upon impact and falling to the ground with an unceremonious thud.

"Whahoo!" the gang leader celebrated. "Alright let's get his stuff… and Jerr make it so he ain't gonna get up any time soon, ok?"

Barely conscious, Freed heard the words and did his best to steel himself for a beating but his body was already throbbing in pain. A lone tear rolled from each of his eyes, not due to the pain he was in, but because he knew in a moment he would lose his most treasured possession, his saber. He had fought hard to protect her and he had failed, but more than that he had failed his mother and his mission. I might not even live through this, he thought. This could be the end. Humbled, he began to pray. Please, let me live through this. Don't let my journey thus far be for nothing… I can't bear to think that it's all been for nothing… He felt his leather belt loosen as his prized sword was taken from him… If only I were a little stronger… a little better trained…

"Hey, Asswipes."

Freed heard a low voice rumble from somewhere near the street. "Leave him alone."

"You want what he's gettin'?" the leader of the hooligans shouted back cockily.

Freed blinked. Was he imagining things? Was someone coming to help him? Surely, he was hallucinating. He had hit his head, after all… but a moment later the sky turned stormy and a strange feeling overtook his body. His hair begin to stand on end, his green ponytail turning upward as though it were a snake, and the same thing was happening to the other men in the alley.

Freed wasn't sure what was going on, but it could only be explained by magic which meant that there was another mage here and, it seemed, that person, whoever they were, was trying to help him. A small smile spread on his face as he struggled to pull himself to his feet.

I can't give up, he told himself as he stood on shaking legs. I owe it to my ally to give my everything to this fight. We will win or I will die. The man with the hooked nose turned around and punched Freed hard in the stomach sending the rune mage back down to the ground, but immediately he started to get up. I swear I will continue to fight…

"Don't you dare do that to him," growled the voice of Freed's mysterious comrade. "You've got him outnumbered. It ain't a fair fight."

"You dumb enough to think we care about bein' fair?" the short bandit laughed as one of his cronies kicked Freed.

"No one's ever called me smart," replied the voice and Freed saw the other two thieves fly through the air, yellow lightning crackling all around them as they went. Freed turned his head and for the first time he saw the mage who had come to his rescue. He was a spiky-haired blond teenager with a jagged scar that ran forehead to cheek on the right side of his face. His hands were formed into enormous fists and the yellow t-shirt he wore barely accommodated the rippled muscles underneath. His raw, brute strength was that of a god, but his casual manner of dress and the headphones resting on his neck appeared to indicate that instead of having come down from on high he had merely been out for a leisurely stroll when he answered Freed's prayer.

The leader of the thieves sneered at the lightning-wielding mage wanting to reassure his team that they could face this monster. "Looks like we're gonna be getting a real nice pair of headphones as a bonus, boys."

"And you think I'm the dumb one? Nobody's gettin' their hands on these!" said the yellow clad teen as he ran at the leader fist-first. His hand made contact with the man's face with a loud clap of thunder. Then he grabbed the other two men and threw them down the alley as though they were ragdolls.

"Leave Magnolia if you know what's good for you," growled the young man as he looked down at the three bandits who were lying on the ground moaning, the shooters already having fled from the rooftops.

The lightning wielder jogged up to Freed and offered him his hand. "You ok?" Freed nodded as he took the hand offered to him and rose.

"Watch out, behind you!" Freed shouted as one of the gunmen suddenly appeared in view again, taking aim at them. The blond youth grabbed Freed by the waist using his broader body as a shield as he raised a hand shooting lightning toward the roof. A moment later the lightning mage had released Freed from his hug and the gunman's body was plummeting face first from the roof to the alley below.

Freed had never seen such a display of power and he marveled that this mage was this strong and not much older than him. He stood there for a moment basking in the golden glow of the other teen's lightning before scurrying around the alley to collect his personal effects which had become scattered during the course of the fight.

After once again securing his sword to his waist, the young swordsman looked up and realized his savior was leaving and he jogged after him eager to show his gratitude to the man who had come to his aid. "Thank you," Freed said. The lightning mage said nothing, but turned to leave and Freed, unsure of what to do next, followed him. As he walked a couple paces behind the lightning mage he noticed the blond seemed to be limping. Concerned, Freed stepped next to him inadvertently crowding him a little. "Are you ok?" Freed asked as he stared down at the young man's shoe which was stained with what he presumed was blood. I bet those bastards stabbed him in the foot, he thought enraged.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the teenager said wiping sweat from his brow and removing the set of headphones from his neck and examining them carefully as though more concerned for their condition than that of his own body.

"Are you sure? You seem to be limping," Freed pointed out.

The other boy waved his hand slightly to indicate it was no big deal as he replaced his headphones on his ears and took a step away from the younger boy. "Musta got a rock in my shoe or something'."

The green-haired boy recognized this comment as bravado, but decided to let the subject go, at least for the moment.

"I'm indebted to you," Freed said raising his voice so that if the other young man had turned his music back on he would still be able to hear him. "Without your help I don't care to think what might have happened."

The other young man lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. "No big."

But it is a big deal, Freed thought to himself. My magic wasn't enough to overpower them, but yours was. It was amazing! I was getting in over my head and if you hadn't happened along… I should do something for you. Something to show my appreciation. Freed sensed that the other youth might not enjoy a lot of attention and that a relatively low-key gesture of gratitude would most likely be the only thing he would accept, so the rune mage offered the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Let me buy you a drink," the young swordsman said earnestly.

The lightning mage made a quizzical expression. "A drink? You drink?"

Freed did not drink, not like that, and hadn't intended to imply that he did, but now he was too embarrassed to say otherwise, so he simply nodded his head.

The lightning mage studied the other boy. He was powerful and amazingly fearless… and he kind of thought he liked him.

"Well, come on then," he smirked. "I know a place. But don't feel like you owe me one or nothin'. I'm happy to beat the shit out of assholes like that just for fun. Other stuff I charge for."

Freed smiled. This handsome young man works as a mage. That's what his comment about charging meant, right? And if he charges he must be the member of a guild… Freed's smile broadened as he realized that this was the first time he had fought beside another professional mage. Admittedly, I didn't exactly fight beside him, but we fought a common enemy and that means I'm one step closer to knowing what it will be like to be in a guild and to become the kind of mage I am determined to become.