A/N: Happy Jerza Week Bonus Day everyone! It's finally that wonderful time of the year.
Now, this fic has been a long-time coming. People have been asking me about it since I introduced a Jerza baby into my fics, so here goes. I'm not completely sure this fits the prompt but it's close enough in my view.
Before proceeding on to the fic, I'd like to say that this is 100% dedicated to la kalaka! Without her reassurance, I don't think I would have gotten the guts to finally post this. This may have just been a terrible idea - but at least I know someone in the world other than me doesn't think so!
It was raining buckets outside yet there was little sign of wind, Jellal saw through the kitchen window as he waited for his tea to brew at ungodly hours of the morning. Even inside the house, the air felt damper than usual and any sign of it improving was only due to him having lit up the fireplace.
It had been a dream coming to its end that had woken him up at something like five in the morning. The details had been crystal clear in his mind upon awaking, something that might be odd, were it not a familiar dream he had had many times before. A dream of suddenly-blocked paths in the crossroads that had been his life thus far. It had not been outright unwelcome, yet it had made him nostalgic and thoughtful about all the lost possibilities. What was not. What could have been. What had been lost and he had no hope of finding again.
Just like that, his mind had found itself full of thoughts of infinite and unpredictable possibilities… possibilities that he'd known he wouldn't even consider going back in time to take even if it were possible. Still, despite that certainty, the thoughts had been there, filling his mind and wouldn't let him just close his eyes again and go back to sleep like he'd wished he would.
As such, he had found himself restless while in a bed shared with his heavily pregnant redhead to whom sleep was as precious as gold between nights of heartburn and endless kicking. So, since Erza must not be disturbed – because sleep-deprived Erza equaled cranky Erza and cranky Erza was a side of Erza that (although loved by Jellal, same as all sides of Erza, from the sweetest to the craziest) he could definitely do without – he'd had little choice but to move his restlessness somewhere else, preferably where he wouldn't disturb her.
Kitchen it had been, and now there he stood pointlessly looking at the worsening rain with herbal tea that would hopefully soothe his mind brewing on the background.
The first flash of lightening came about five minutes after he'd put the kettle on the fire and he braced himself for the incoming thunder. It took several seconds to sound, yet it was louder than he'd assumed it would be. He wondered if it had hit the spire atop the cathedral – that was usually where Laxus went to feast on his element during thunderstorms.
The next flash of lightening came as the kettle started to whistle, making him retreat nearer the stove in order to turn off the flames. It was just after the thunder sounded that he heard steps down the stairs, just outside of the kitchen. He took two steps back, the kettle still in his hold, in order to peak out the door and like that, he found Erza approaching, one hand rubbing her eyes and the other on her large bump.
"What are you doing up at this hour?" she asked in a bleary voice.
He reached for the stove in order to place the kettle back on it and then turned back to her. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep," he said. "Did the thunder wake you?"
She nodded. "A little… but then I reached for you and you weren't there."
"Oh, sorry," he apologized. "I didn't want to disturb you, so I left."
She shook her head. "It's okay," she mumbled, walking closer to lean against him, which was quite the hard task, given that her belly was very much on the way, forcing her to practically stand diagonally in order to rest her head against his chest. She did it, anyway, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her (well, as much as he could, at least) in an embrace and pressing a kiss to her forehead. In the belly that was pressed against his front, he felt soft flutters, indicating that the baby was up as well and moving around. At least it wasn't kicking too hard, he thought, and would hopefully settle soon.
"Why don't you do back to bed?" he suggested. "Maybe you'll fall back asleep soon."
She shook her head. "I'll keep you company down here for a while," she declared.
"You don't have to. I'll just have some tea and be up in no time."
But before she could respond, another thunder sounded, making her wince, not because she was particularly afraid of thunder but instead because she'd been distracted and not expecting it. At that, she pulled away from him and walked towards the window in order to look out.
"Has it been thundering for long?" she asked.
He shook his head as he joined her. "It started a few minutes ago. It's weird. Even though it's raining, there's no wind. I don't think I've ever seen it thundering with no wind when it's raining this much."
"Mmm… perfect," she mumbled.
He raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
But rather than answering, he found her walking towards the front door as if on a daze. When she actually reached for the lock and opened it, he all but lost it.
"Erza! Don't go outside like that! You'll catch a cold!" He hurried over to her as she stood facing the open door and reached for one of the coats he had hanging from their makeshift coat hanger (read: old trident of Erza's sticking upwards from a vase) and helped her into it. It was too big on her except from her belly, as expected, seeing as it belonged to him rather than her, but she looked more than cozy in it, the unique delighted smile that she got whenever wearing his clothes gracing her face. "There," he said, having grabbed a scarf and wrapped around her neck as well. "That's better. Now can you tell me why on Earthland you're opening the front door with weather like this outside for?"
"Mmm… because I love it like this. This smell… the rainfall sound, the electricity in the air…"
He raised an eyebrow. For a moment, he had been confused when she'd mentioned smell, thinking that she might be referring to his coat, given that she often tended to sniff around a lot when she was in it (or rather, when she was dressed in any piece of clothing of his). That wasn't the case at the time, though, and given the rest of her sentence, he realized she was likely referring to the wet dirt smell caused by the rain outside. It occurred to him that it seemed like the perfect site for an epic battle one would read about in books… and that made him wonder if the battle conditions were not the reasons why his redheaded knight liked it so much.
When she took a step out the door, he was again alarmed, thinking that she might actually be planning to walk out in the rain. "Erza!"
"Don't fret, Jellal. I'll just stay here on the porch," she promised.
He was a little relieved by her reassurance. "Are you planning to stay there long?"
"Maybe," she said before turning around. "Why don't you come out too? It is not as cold as you would think it would be."
He sighed. "I'll just go and get the tea. Do you want some to? It's linden."
She nodded. "Five spoons of sugar," she instructed him.
He gave her an unimpressed look. "Erza…"
She sighed. "Fine. Four spoons."
He still didn't appear convinced. "Are you baking a baby or a cake?"
She frowned. That was a rather unfair way of putting it… "Oh, alright, then! Three! But that is the lowest that I'm willing to go!" she stated with finality.
He took a deep breath. "Three it is," he gave in.
Returning to the kitchen, he grabbed two mugs: a plain yellow one for her and a blue one for him. In usual circumstances, he would have gotten her favorite strawberry-print mug, but given her current (not to mention endlessly painful) aversion to the fruit, he knew that facing said mug might just bring her to tears. In fact, he had made a point of hiding it by sticking it on the top shelf where she couldn't reach, for the sake of sparing her feelings.
As he looked at the window for a moment while pouring the tea into the mugs, he spotted the red top of her head at the bottom, indicating she had settled herself on the wooden loveseat just outside of it. That gave him an idea…
Rather than walking straight out with the tea, he approached the window and opened it, placing the two mugs on the outside part of the windowsill over the loveseat. Erza turned around at the sound of him doing so, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you coming out?"
He nodded. "I'll be there in a minute." And so, he closed the window again and walked over out of the kitchen, first heading to the coat-hanger and putting on another coat of his and then reaching for the couch and picking up a couple of cushions, as well as the blanket they always kept on hand during the coldest months of the year for when they felt like cuddling on it.
He walked out carrying those and closed the front door after placing the keys on his pocket. Then he walked over to the love seat, spotting Erza already sipping on her tea, and placed the blanket on one armrest and the cushions against the other.
"Here," he said, fluffing the cushions. "You'll be more comfortable if you lounge against them."
She smiled and didn't even protest before turning sideways and settling back against the soft padding but didn't bring her legs up onto the loveseat until he sat, so that she could rest them on his lap. Once he did and she finally settled herself atop him, he grabbed the blanket and spread it over both of them.
"There. Better?"
She nodded. "You most certainly know how to cater to a pregnant woman."
He chuckled. "I do my best," he replied as he retrieved his mug from the windowsill.
"You never told me what woke you up," Erza said while he took the first sip from his mug. "Was it the thunder too?"
He shook his head. "A dream."
She frowned. "You mean a nightmare?"
He shook his head. "No. Just a regular dream. Memories, more like."
Her frown only intensified. "Memories?"
"From before," he explained.
He didn't need to be more specific than that – before wasn't just another vague word for them. Ever since they were little slaves at a cold, scary island, the word 'before' when used in a certain tone and context had held a very specific meaning to them: before they'd been taken from their families… before the tower… before. They hadn't spoken of their lives before they'd been stolen often because it was just too painful, but when they absolutely had to, they would always call it before. Same had been the case for the others: Simon, Wally, Shô, Millianna… Grandpa Rob had been the only one who'd spoken openly about his before, or at least he had in the beginning, when it had just been Jellal and Millianna and he'd spend hours telling them tales of the magical guild he belonged to. By the time Erza and Simon had a arrived, he too had ceased doing so, recognizing that sharing tales of freedom only served to hurt the children that didn't have any.
So, really, he wasn't very surprised when Erza's response to his statement was a simple "I see," while sipping on her tea. He had long accepted that before would be a blank space in his knowledge of Erza's life story, just as his before would be a blank in her knowledge of his. Honestly, the fact that he knew even the slightest bit about Erza's history with Simon and Kagura before the tower was more than he'd ever hoped for.
But then…
"Can you tell me about it?" Erza urged him. "Those memories from before? Your family."
And for a moment, he could only blink in confusion, unable to register that she had just broken that unspoken taboo between the children of the tower. But then, it hit him… and he couldn't help but feel like that the request wasn't as hard to answer as he would have thought. Somehow, speaking of sensitive matters with Erza was always easier… as if they were so close that she felt like an extension of his own consciousness. "There's not much to say. I was six when I was taken, so that doesn't leave all that much to remember from before."
She sighed. "I'm sure you still remember more about your family than I do."
He frowned. "What do you mean? You were three years older than me when you were taken."
"Don't get me wrong. I remember a lot. I remember my village, I remember going to school with Simon, I remember Kagura following us around… just not my family or my home. Not a thing."
He stared at her, a little shocked. She didn't remember? How… "Was it always like that?" he asked. "Even at the tower?"
"I'm not sure. I just know that one day I tried to look back and they weren't there. I was still at the tower when I realized it."
"Have you talked to anyone about it?" he has to ask.
She nodded. "The Master. He told me it wasn't the result of any magic as far as he could tell. His theory is that it hurt too much to lose my family, so I just… forgot about them. The human mind can apparently do that sort of thing…"
Jellal responded with a nod, knowing that much was true. "Have you ever asked…" he paused, sighing at the mere thought of the name "… Kagura? If she remembers something, I mean?"
Erza nodded. "She doesn't remember much either. She was younger than I was, though… maybe about the same age as you were when you were taken. She said that all the memories she had of me took place in hers and Simon's house. Maybe she never met my parents… if I even had any, that is. I suppose the Master could be wrong – maybe I don't remember my family because I didn't have any. Maybe I grew up in an orphanage and remembering it is just not worth it."
Jellal sighed. That was also a possibility… but he didn't feel like it should be her go-to one. "You don't know that, Erza."
"I don't know anything," she pointed out. "It could be true just as easily as Master's theory." She paused, shaking her head. "I shouldn't be speaking of this. I've long realized that it's not something worth dwelling on."
"Maybe you'll remember it someday," he stated.
"Maybe. But even if I don't, it's not the end of the world," she said with a sigh. "At this point, I've lived most of my life without those memories and I have plenty more to make. Especially now," she added, rubbing her belly as the baby moved within, as if trying to soothe her. She would like to remember something – a lullaby, a story, a tradition… – to share with her son of her past. But even if she didn't, it wouldn't kill her because she had gotten used to living without those memories long ago. "Now enough about me. You still haven't told me your story from before."
"There is really not much to tell," he warned her.
"Just say what you remember."
He sighed. "My house was in the middle of nowhere – not in a city or a village. Just fields and forests and then our house. At night, there were no lights outside, so the stars shone really bright. It watched them all the time – my mother knew all the names and she taught them to me too: stars, constellations, comets…"
"You lived with your parents?" Erza asked.
He shrugged. "I only remember there being my mother. Her hair was the same color as mine. I have no idea what her name was – I only called her 'mom'. That was her name, as far as I was concerned. But when I was in trouble, she'd call me by my full name – that's how I never forgot it."
Erza chuckled. "You got into trouble a lot, I presume."
"I suppose. I liked climbing onto things – trees, roofs… And it didn't help that I didn't go to school and my mother taught me at home – that gave her more opportunity to scold me. Let's just say that 'Jellal Fernandes' was shouted a lot around the house."
The redhead couldn't help but smile, imagining a pint-sized Jellal running around and getting into trouble. She remembered how cheerful he used to be at the tower – he must have been even more of a feisty one at home, then… "So, it was really just the two of you? You and your mother."
"Mostly. There was a man who visited sometimes. Not often, but whenever he came, I made me really, really happy. He was nice and always played with me a lot. I don't remember what he looked like – the memories became hazy with time, but when I think of him, I think of blue, so I guess we must have had the same coloring as we did. I know he was tall… really, really tall. I don't think I ever knew what he did for a living, but I know that he was everything I wanted to become when I grew up and more. I worshiped the very ground he walked on. I know he wasn't my father, or at least not as far as I ever knew. Maybe an uncle or an older brother. I always just called him by his name, anyway. Sieg."
She frowned. "Sieg? His name was Sieg? As in Siegrain?" she asked, recalling his alter-ego.
"I only remember it being Sieg, but I guess that's where the name Siegrain came from. I could never get that name out of my head, not even during the worst times… His name was synonym to power in my head and power was what I wanted at that time – I guess it makes sense that I chose to take that name." There was some bitterness in his voice as he said so. "I think he would probably be disappointed that I used his name like that," Jellal said in a downcast tone. "For the worst part of me."
"You weren't fully in control. I'm sure you wouldn't have done it if you were…" Erza assured him.
He sighed. "Still… from the little I remember, he deserved better."
Erza didn't speak for a while. She put her mug up on the windowsill and then reached forward to touch his hand, rubbing circles on the back. The, after a few seconds, she said it. "So, fix it."
He raised his eyebrows, looking at her. "How?"
"Reform it. Make it mean something good," she urged him.
"How? By changing my name to it and doing good deeds?" he asked, confused. "Because even if I were willing to do it, nobody would buy it at this point."
Erza shook her head. "No. You're Jellal – that is not something you should change. But there are still other ways to reform his name without changing yours."
"What ways?" he had to question.
She sighed. "By giving it to somebody else and then making sure you raise him to be someone that man from your memories would be proud of."
For about five seconds, he was confused. But then, as his eyes drifted down to her bump, it hit him. "You don't mean… the baby?"
"It's not a bad name," she said. "Sieg Scarlet."
"You can't be serious, Erza."
"I mean only Sieg, Jellal. Not short for Siegrain."
"It's still so similar, Erza… it would be a burden on him," Jellal said. "There are still people who think I am evil and just running some sort of long con by being with you and the guild. Those people might take it the wrong way without knowing the story behind it."
Erza frowned. "Those people are geared up to take anything you do the wrong way and I'll be damned if I let them come anywhere near our baby," she assured him with a bitter look on her face. "As for the others, nobody has talked about Siegrain in years. From the moment he was unmasked, you were made out to be the bad guy – it was Jellal Fernandes, not Siegrain, hoarding headline after headline for years. Odds are he's been mostly forgotten by now."
"I seriously doubt this would not jog at least a handful of people's memories," Jellal skeptically pointed out.
"Even if it does, it's not the same name. The people who matter will understand once we explain what it means. The people who don't will just have to bear with it and if they even dream of giving him a hard time about it, they will have to get past us."
Jellal sighed. "You seem very set on this all of a sudden," he commented.
"It is not that sudden – I've been thinking of this for a while."
He frowned. That didn't make any sense – she hadn't even known the name Sieg held any meaning to him beyond Siegrain before. "But how…"
"Not this name in specific," Erza stated. "But I wanted him to have something like this for a name – something yours, since you've already said that his last name should be Scarlet. I'm okay with that," she assured him before he could say a word in protest. "You gave that name to me and that makes it ours, but I've made it mine more than yours over the years. So, I want him to have something of yours as his first name."
She didn't state the real reason why she was so adamant in that. Although she was okay with their son getting the name Scarlet rather than Fernandes, part of her had to wonder if he hadn't suggested that in an effort to… distance himself from their son. Not in a sense that he meant to neglect him but to spare him from being automatically related to the black shadow he considered himself to be in some ways. That, Erza was sure, was not something she could stand for – the world and, even more importantly, Jellal needed to know that they saw no reason to be ashamed of him, be it through a name or some other way.
Jellal sighed. "I'm still not sure this is a good idea."
On the one hand, it felt right to do it, to name his son after the faceless, yet fond memory of that man he remembered to adore in his past (one of the few things he had left from his before… a before that had contributed so much into shaping up the few parts of him he considered worthy of Erza), to cleanse a name he had butchered with his actions in such an unwarranted way… it felt like an apology, like healing a wound that had been bleeding for a long time, in some way. To close the door to a dark past and open another to a bright future.
And yet, there was the other hand: what would it mean to his son? Would he be bullied? Would he understand? Would he hate him for it? Could he take it? Should he have to take it?
"We don't have to decide now – there are still almost two months to go, after all," she agreed understandingly. "I just think that if this name was important enough to still matter when you had little to no control of yourself, then it must still be important enough to warrant being reformed. Honestly, I think our son would be able to take it – at the moment, the name Sieg might have a meaning to you and I and a completely different one to everyone else. But as for what it will mean in the future, that depends on what he makes of it. You named me Erza Scarlet because I was a girl with red hair. Is that all my name means today?"
"No," he responded immediately. Part of him would always see her as that shy little girl with bright red hair, but that was not all Erza Scarlet meant: she was hope, strength, beauty… a hero of the light. "It's a lot more than that now." And for some reason, that made all the difference in his mind.
"Then trust him to do the same. Names are what we make of them. Once he's old enough to understand, we'll explain to him what his name means to us and from then on, he will decide what he wants it to mean to him. Honestly, I expect to see it to becoming the stuff of legends."
Jellal raised an eyebrow. "You sure like to keep the bar high, don't you?"
She shrugged. "It is our baby, isn't it? Obviously, he will be far above average. I wouldn't be surprised if he became S-Class at an early age. And then went on to be one of the Ten Wizard Saints, of course. Possibly even dethrone the Four Kings of Ishgar." Jellal wasn't sure if he should be amused or alarmed by that. But then, she seemed to ground herself a little. "Of course, if he decides to follow a different path than us, my expectations can be adapted. For instance, if he decided to make forego magic and open a bakery, I would be incredibly proud to see him developing the best recipe for Strawberry Cake to ever grace this world."
His lips curled as he decided to go with amusement. "Of course. That is good to know," he told her. "But about the name…"
She shook her head. "Like I said before, we don't have to decide now. Take your time to think about it. I know this is not something you would just jump into without a thought. And if you decide you don't want to go with that name, I'm sure we will be able to find something else that will suit him."
He sighed, relieved that she wasn't putting too much pressure at once. "Thank you. And I will think of it – I promise I won't just set it aside because it's easier that way."
She smiled. "That is all I can ask for."
Although that conversation ended there, they sat together on that loveseat for a little longer, each sipping on their mugs of tea which had grown almost cold in the meantime.
There was silence aside from the falling rain and occasional thundering but it was not the uncomfortable kind – there was simply no need for words. As Erza lounged back comfortably, Jellal absently run his fingers over her legs on his lap – up and down, up and down. That and the sound of the rain was slowly lulling her to sleep, making it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. She didn't even realize it was happening until she felt her head droop to the side, startling herself awake.
"What's wrong? Is it the baby?" he asked immediately.
She shook her head. "I was just about to fall asleep out here. Maybe I should go back to bed. Can you help me up?"
He nodded and lifted her legs of his lap in order to escape from under them. Then, rather than giving her a hand to boost herself up with, he reached down, placed one hand behind her back , another on the underside of her knees and picked her up.
"Jellal!" she protested. "I said 'help me up', not 'pick me up'."
"I must have misunderstood," he lied swiftly as he walked towards the door. "Too late now."
"You are going to hurt yourself," she pointed out, her arms wrapped around his neck. "My weight is not the same as it used to be."
"It's not that bad," he reassured her. He wasn't even lying – for someone who had picked her up more than once while wearing armor, the weight difference was not that much. "Can you get the key from my pocket?" he requested once he reached the door.
She nodded and after retrieving it, placed it in the lock herself, opening it with a single turn. Not even when they were inside did her agree to put her down on the floor once she demanded it, making a beeline to the stairs in order to carry her up. Faced with that, she could only sigh and accept it. It wouldn't kill her to be spoiled a little more.
"Thank you for telling me. About before," she found herself saying as they entered their room.
"Oh," he mumbled while circling the bed to reach her side, where he gently lay her down, taking a seat on the edge. "You too. Thank you for telling me as well."
"There was hardly anything to say," she said dismissively while stripping off the coat and scarf he'd made her wear before.
He shook his head. "There was enough. Now there's a part of you that I know more about." Once the coat and scarf were off, Jellal moved them to the foot of the bed so that he could pull the covers over her.
"I suppose that applies to both of us." Her lips curled, not only at the words but also at the fact that he was currently tucking her in like a child – he might be the baby's father rather than his mother, but he certainly had the mothering down much better than she did. "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" she asked
He reached down and pressed it to her lips. "Will this one do?"
"It is suitable enough," she accepted, turning on her side into the position that she favored these days. After she was settled, she saw him moving to the door rather than his side of the bed and frowned. "Aren't you coming to bed?"
"In a few minutes," he said. "I have to go downstairs and lock up."
"Hurry up. I'll be counting," she informed him.
She never ended up counting, or at least never ended up making the counting worth anything, since by the time he returned she was out like light… or at least mostly – she still moved to cuddle him and claim his body as if it was a full-body pillow once he finally made it into bed.
From inside her belly, he felt soft flutters every few seconds, indicating that the baby was not as interested in sleep as his mother. Although the movements were nowhere nearly intense enough to keep Erza despairingly awake as they sometimes did, Jellal seemed to be having trouble catching up with sleep as long as he felt them – not because they were actually bothering him but because they were constantly reminding him of the matter of the name.
Sieg, he thought. After Erza's words concerning people being the ones who gave meaning to their names, he had started feeling less averse to it – he had no doubt he would do all he could so that his son gave a good meaning to his name and that somehow made it… better. Righter. Still, the doubts didn't just cease holding on.
"I don't suppose you could tell me what to do about your name, buddy," he whispered to the baby, his fingers brushing against Erza's bump. "How would you like 'Sieg'? Would you be okay with us giving you that name despite me screwing it up?"
The baby moved, but not in any distinctive way that he could interpret as some sort of answer. It was just random flutters like before.
"Yeah… I didn't think you'd have much to say. It would be too much to hope for two kicks for 'yes' and one kick for 'no'."
In fact, after he said that, no more kicks came. Maybe the baby had gotten bored of his dilemma. Or maybe he had been lulled to sleep by his father's voice.
Exhausted, Jellal just let out a long breath. "Your mom does have a point about one thing – if you forget about the history, Sieg Scarlet doesn't sound like a bad name at all." And after that, with the kick-shaped reminders gone, Jellal closed his eyes and made an effort to fall asleep, that time garnering better results than before.
It was only after his breath settled that Erza risked opening one bleary eye against his shoulder and curling her lips ever-so-slightly.
It wouldn't be until the day of the birth that Jellal would give her his definite answer, but from that moment forward, she knew with little room for doubt that their son already had a name.
The End
A/N2: Like I said, this name might have just been a horrible idea. I do like it but I see how many people might not.
Also, some of you will probably ask me if the Sieg from Jellal's memories is the Sieg Hart from Mashima's Rave Groove Adventure (a.k.a. Rave Master) who was pretty much the spitting image of Jellal. My answer is: it's up to you. I wasn't particularly referring to anyone in specific, but if you want to go with it, go ahead. It will not be an important plot point in the future, as far as my plans go right now, so really, use your imaginations all you like.
Feel free to tell me your thoughts on this one-shot in the comments.
Bella