valkyrie
description: whenever he rode into battle, the men swore that the gods would paint him scarlet. Jerza AU.
"Look at the sky!"
At the sound of the man's call, the soldiers craned their necks to glimpse the darkening heavens. "The gods do not look favorably upon this battle!" The man continued to scream. The men muttered prayers under their breath as they fiddled with their shields and readjusted the straps of their armor. Already, Jellal could smell the fear spreading throughout his army.
He nearly scoffed. Were these men virgins to battle? Had they not accompanied him on his battle for freedom? A gloved hand rested on his shoulder. Jellal turned to the armored woman next to him. How beautiful she was in battle, Jellal thought to himself wonderingly. "Your men are afraid. It has been a long, hard year. They want to go home soon. But they will never stop following you."
Hearing her reassuring words, Jellal relaxed his tense muscles. The knight allowed herself a small smile before sweeping her eyes over the swarm of men who littered the battlefield. She would pause at certain men, and then resume to size up the rest. Jellal looked at her with inquisitive eyes. Well, what say you, knight? She straightened her back and rose to full height.
"The enemy is many. But you shall not die today, son of Fernandes."
Jellal flipped his visor, drinking in the sight of her through the slit of his helmet. Seeing this, the men tightened their grip on their weapons and finished their last oaths to the gods. He drew his sword, and the soldiers readied themselves for the signal. Without looking at her, Jellal murmured, "Don't keep your eyes off of me." The woman dipped her head.
Of course.
He raised his weapon and gave the command they were all waiting for. "Charge!" With a mighty roar, the men descended and met their enemies. The earth opened herself to drink from the blood of the fallen and caress the bodies of the wounded. Many they were, but the enemy was not nearly as skillful as Jellal's well-trained army.
In the dead center of the violent chaos, Jellal was mercilessly cutting down those who dared to cross swords with him. He slashed and parried with incredible concentration, unfazed by the blood that splattered his armor. As the fight was reaching its climax, the gleaming woman in armor stood atop the hill. She made no movement or sound as she witnessed man kill and be killed. Time passed, and time seemed to halt when the sound of victory finally rang in the air.
Jellal's bloodied and tired men shouted in triumph, giving praise to the gods and heroes of old. Meanwhile, the dead and injured were strewn at their feet, gazing at the heavens with empty eyes. The silent songs of the dead seemed to overwhelm the syncopated whimpers of the dying.
"Help the injured," Jellal instructed as the cheers died down. "It doesn't matter if they bear the crest of our enemies. We will bury the dead as well. It is our responsibility as the living." He picked up a gasping soldier a few feet away from him and began searching for other wounded men who could still be saved from death's clutches.
The men nodded solemnly and proceeded to follow his example, although a few of them grumbled and scowled as they carried the limp bodies. But as for the rest of the men, they committed to their task with proud and humble hearts, for their leader and future king was a noble man.
Once the solemn obligation was fulfilled, Jellal rounded up his soldiers. "You did well fighting today. I couldn't be prouder. Magnolia Town has been liberated because of your efforts. Tonight, we rest. Tomorrow we will march to the city and meet the rebels."
After they made their camp, Jellal and his men soon settled into their tents for some well-deserved rest. The men drifted into dreamless sleep while Jellal's tent continued to glow from candlelight. "You fought well today. Excellent swordsmanship, Jellal." Jellal accepted the compliment with a small nod as he tugged off his armor. "Thank you, Erza. But I'm afraid I'm not match for the likes of you."
Erza's smile was mirthless. "There is no mortal who can contest with me. After all, I am...not mortal." Her voice drifted off as she stared at her hands. "You are more beautiful than any other mortal woman I have ever seen," Jellal responded automatically, blushing furiously as he realized what he said. He was glad to hide behind the safety of his helmet. With careful fingers, Erza removed the hunk of metal from his head, and stacked the helmet on the pile of armor that lay scattered on the ground.
"Rest," she told him. "I will keep guard over the camp. You will have a long day tomorrow." Jellal tried to protest, but Erza was firm in her decision. He listened to the sound of her clinking armor as she moved away from his tent. After a few moments of contemplative silence, Jellal blew out the candle and settled for sleep.
And in the complete darkness, Erza stood with sword in hand as she kept watch for the sleeping soldiers. Bathed in the silvery gray moonlight, Erza was a majestic sight to see as her scarlet hair danced in the wind. It was a pity Jellal didn't see the faint shade of pink that colored her face.
The next day, Jellal and his forces marched to Magnolia Town. Erza, as always, was right beside Jellal as they walked. At the entrance of the town was a group of defiant youth. "We're not going to let you terrorize us!" One shouted angrily. The troops bristled, and Jellal shot his men a stern glare. "I will take care of this."
He stepped forward and cleared his throat.
"My name is Jellal. Last night, my men and I defeated the forces who have been terrorizing your town for the last ten years. If there is any way we can help, please tell us. We mean no harm." Silence. Then, one of the youth stepped forward. He was a pink-haired boy, probably only eighteen or nineteen years old. "I am Natsu! Natsu Dragneel, son of Igneel! I am the leader of the rebels! Is it true that you really defeated Phantom Lord's men?" Jellal curtly nodded in reply.
After a moment, Natsu ran up to him and threw a solid punch. "You bastard! I was supposed to take em out!" Jellal staggered and crashed into Erza. The soldiers rushed forward, pointing their weapons at the insolent boy. "Do you know how this man is?" One of them shouted angrily. "He is Prince Jellal, heir to the throne! You dare to repay his kindness like this?"
Immediately, the group behind Natsu gasped.
"Shit, Natsu! The fuck you hit the Prince for?!"
A young maiden with golden hair hurried forward, defiantly standing in front of the soldiers as she tried to shield Natsu with her arms. "Please! He meant to harm! We truly are grateful! We spent months trying to think of a plan to save our town; Natsu especially! That's why he's a little frustrated. Phantom Lord tried to torture him once! Please don't take him away from us."
Jellal got up and signaled his men to step away. "I had no intentions of doing so, young lady." The woman wiped her tears and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Your Highness!" She smacked Natsu. "You too! Thank the Prince!" She hissed quietly.
Natsu crossed his arms and huffed. "I was getting to that, Lucy!" He snapped back. "Uh…Sorry I punched you, Your Princeliness. Thanks for helping us."
That night was a merry one. The soldiers mingled with the townspeople, laughing harder than they ever had in months. Wine was poured freely. In fact, it was poured a little too freely. People were swapping stories of all kinds: war stories that made you tighten your grip on your tankard, love stories that made you sigh, funny stories that made you spill your drink and embarrassing stories that made you look off into a corner before someone brought you back to the conversation.
"You know," one soldier slurred at Natsu and a few others. "I think Prince Jellal has a secret lover." Heads turned, and the soldier was now the highlight of the night. Everyone crowded around the table, eager to hear some juicy details about the all too solemn Prince.
"Oh, that's interesting! Tell us more!" Natsu demanded, banging his tankard on the table. "Hey, isn't this sort of talk dangerous?" The one called Lucy asked, worriedly searching the crowd for the blue-haired Prince. "Nah," the soldier said, waving her concern away. "He went back to his tent. He never really stays around for parties."
"Get on with it!" A drunk woman shouted.
Many more joined the woman as they urged the soldier to continue with his story. "Alrigh, alrigh'! No need to yell." The soldier took another heavy draught before clearing his throat.
"There was this one battle where Prince Jellal almost died. We were liberating some port city in the south. This was a year ago. It's amazing he's still alive, you see. Terrible wounds. Was out for about a 'wee."
"You mean week!"
"Aye, Sir Dragneel. Anyways, when he revived, he couldn't stop blabbering about someone named Erza for a while. Before and aftyer battles, he's always muttering about her. 'Watch out fo me,' he says. 'I'll be right back,' he says. Sometimes, I hear him talking in his tent to her. Must love her so much he hallucinates that she's there. The crowd quieted, sipping from their drinks and regarding this new bit of information in silence.
Then, some man with iron piercings got up and drunkenly insisted that he would invent something called the guitar before passing out. The crowd roared with laughter. The festivities and cheering resumed. No one noticed the solemn woman who slunk away, red hair trailing in her wake.
While the soldiers and townspeople were enjoying themselves, Jellal was poring over the maps of Fiore. He and his forces managed to free all the towns in the south that were under the power of corrupt governors and officials. According to intelligence, the towns to the west were led by good men loyal to him and his father, the King. It made sense. The capital was situated in that area.
Now, intelligence would have to supervise the towns of the north as the army proceeded to the towns of the east. How would that work…? Jellal's head turned as he heard the sounds of clinking armor near his tent.
"Erza. What's wrong?"
The scarlet haired woman was shaking furiously. Her cheeks were coated with a prominent shade of deep red. Immediately, all thoughts of planning vanished from Jellal's mind. "Are you alright, Erza? What happened?" He reached out as he spoke. Not once since his first encounter with Erza had he ever seen her like this.
Erza flinched and slapped his hand away. The Prince stared blankly before his face contorted into unreadable expression. His eyes flared as he grabbed Erza's wrist. "What was happened, Erza? Tell me!" The full force of his voice resounded with power only those from royal lineage could possess. Erza stared him down with cold eyes. "
"Tell you? Very well. Your men have made you a spectacle among the townspeople! Think, Jellal! A madman who whispers nonstop about a secret lover even in the heat of battle! What kind of Prince is that? How could they have uttered such things about you?" Jellal narrowed his eyes and took a step closer as he grabbed Erza's other hand.
"You're lying to me," he said quietly. "That's not really why you're angry."
Erza bit her lip, not knowing what else to say. "What else did they say, Erza? I'm sure there's more to it. I do not know what happened, but I assume that is what angered you." She wrenched herself free from Jellal's grip and drew her sword, stabbing the sword into the dirt with the air of a woman gone mad.
"It is you, Jellal! You have angered me!"
Jellal flinched. It was as if she had stabbed her sword into him. He opened his mouth and then closed it, sensing that Erza was not even close to finishing her tirade.
"One year ago," she began in a forcefully calm tone. "I found you splattered in dirt and rain. Do you remember that?"
A/N: Oo, don't we all just love cliffhangers? Second work! I'm very excited for this story, as well as four other stories I'm working on. I worried about OOC Erza and Jellal, but I think I managed to write them out somewhat close to character. Thank you for reading! Please rate and review. I will be posting some new stories very soon, so stick around!