Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail. All rights go to Hiro Mashima.
Gossamer
Summary: After two years spent aimlessly looking for her roommate, Mavis finds him in the most unlikely of places, but Zeref is not even human. Soulmate/Fairy AU.
Colors
At the age of twenty-four, Mavis moves from one edge of Crocus and closer to the center. She'd moved into the Acacia district after finishing college, hoping to find her soulmate as soon as humanely possible. It had been logical because Acacia is a hotspot for the twenty-something crowd, and almost everyone living in the area is soulmate-crazy to some extent.
In Acacia, every night had been a meet-and-greet filled with hope, but every night had also been a failure. For two years, she'd spent her nights smiling as other couples met and saw color for the first time, only to return home defeated and wonder where her own soulmate spent his time.
Her soulmate had never shown up, and eventually Mavis had decided to move on, away from the tempestuous streets in Acacia towards the far-more subdued district of Mercutius. It's not that it's a bad place to live, either, but this place is drowned in coffee and encased in steel, a by-product of the corporations and the plethora of young professionals filling it.
If everyone in Acacia is a soulmate-crazy eccentric, everyone in Mercutius is a murderous cynic in a suit.
No matter how much she tries to be positive, though, she thinks it's cruel, the way people don't bat an eye when a dozen employees are laid off for no reason but to maximize profits, or the way interns pull fifteen-hour shifts with no pay in the name of career advancement.
Mavis had made sure to be efficient enough to hold her job but friendly enough to look harmless, which is no easy task when she'd been touted as a genius and a prodigy all her life.
Sometimes she wonders why she'd even gone into law, when she would have been happier as a journalist, but the answer becomes clear when she meets him.
Zeref Dragneel is ruthless in court, and he's the sort of person who thrives on conflict and corporate murder. Mavis is second chair in a case against him, and Erza grudgingly tells her to watch the way he argues because he's good. Erza Scarlet is amazing in her own right, already a partner at the tender age of twenty-five, but with the way Zeref destroys them both in court it is a small wonder she tells Mavis to observe.
Mavis is, after all, very good at examining the nuances that other people ignore.
It matters little in the end, and Zeref wins with a bored expression on his face. He doesn't seem to care that his client is more likely guilty than not. Mavis bites her lip, glaring a hole into his back as he talks with his client, a bulky man with pale hair and dark eyes.
Erza sets a hand on Mavis' shoulder, squeezing before letting her hand fall to the side. "Don't. He doesn't care."
"He used to be a partner at our firm, right?" Mavis has only been here for a month or so, so she doesn't know half as much gossip as she should for someone pretending to be harmless. The topic is apparently still touchy despite the three years that had passed since then, and no one wants to volunteer any new info to the new girl.
Erza isn't stupid, though, and she recognizes Mavis for what she is: a talented girl with an aversion for conflict but a talent for it. She doesn't have to pretend in front of her, so she's free to ask her questions without breaking her façade.
"He's a year or so older than I am," she says as she leaves the courtroom, Mavis trailing behind her. She is painfully aware of Zeref and Zero a few steps behind them, but Erza's voice is quiet enough that they're safe. "But he's been working a lot longer. He got his law degree when he was nineteen or so. He's infuriating." Her words have no bite, though, and Mavis thinks of the rumors surrounding Erza and that Senator who'd gotten elected last March.
Geniuses seem abundant these days.
"Three years ago, he gathered some of the fourth years and poached a good number of our clients before leaving the firm. I guess the fault lies with management too because they gave him too much power but that's basically what happened."
Erza shrugs and Mavis puts the matter out of her mind. She doesn't care: at the end of the day, Zeref Dragneel is just another boring, hapless cynic with loose morals and a sharp tongue—much like all the other lawyers Mavis is around every day.
Mavis just hopes she never becomes like them.
The next time she sees him, Zeref is coming out of the courtroom as she's going in. He doesn't glance at her, engrossed in whatever conversation he's having with the tall woman next to him. He does, however, hold the door open for Mavis. She's walking past him when her fingers brush against the back of his hand.
And suddenly, the world lights up.
Seeing color, Mavis' mother had once told her, is like seeing beauty in the unremarkable.
She stares, uncomprehensive, at the floor. It is somewhere between light and dark, but there is more to it than can be explained with her current vocabulary. Although she knows the name of the colors—even pretentious ones like "chartreuse" and "viridian"—she has never seen them and can't recognize them.
Mavis only sees it for a second before her hand falls away in surprise, the bright splashes of color receding back in the blink of an eye. "Are you okay?" A man says from behind her, and she whirls around, fingers shaking as she grasps for the hand that had fallen away. Zeref, however, takes a step back, looking infuriatingly calm.
If the world was fair, he would have been shaking and excited too, but of course Mavis gets to have a soulmate who's colder than the artic.
"I'm—my name is—" What is her name again? How do people keep their cool when they're confronted with the one person who's right for them?
"Mavis Vermillion. You're from Gaebolg, Dreyar and Sequen?"
Mavis nods, glad that he's the one doing the talking. They've met before, but they've never talked, and she doesn't want him to think she's an idiot.
Zeref raises an arm, taking a look at his watch. "Excuse me, I must go."
"I—" Mavis doesn't know what to say, shocked as she is because she'd thought—well, she'd thought she hated this guy but—but no one can hate their soulmate and she can look past any faults if he is her other half and—
And he's pulling away once again, turning away from her, but she grabs the sleeve of his coat, fishing her card from her bag with shaky hands. She slips it into his pocket and darts away, slipping into the empty courtroom because she feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest.
She spends the night pacing around her apartment, staring at her phone, waiting for him to call. It's eleven before she decides he'll wait another day, but she's smiling brightly the next morning when she picks her clothes.
How long until she knows what her wardrobe looks like in color? How long before she can learn all the colors her mother had told her about when she was a child? How long before she stops thinking in shades of gray and referring to things as pale and dark? How long before she knows what red and blue and green are like?
The call doesn't come that day, either, or the day after.
Or the day after that.
AN: I think there's only one more chapter so this will be a two-part fic. Please, if you like it, review!