Oh Hola, I bring you LaLu week.
I hope you all enjoy these little snippets - they can be taken as a one-shot or a full story depending on you!
I'll see you guys at the bottom,
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Also if you are reading any of my other stories, please take a peak down the bottom before leaving the story.
Masquerade.
Maybe if Jude hadn't been such an emotionally constipated father so set on marrying off his daughter, Lucy might have enjoyed herself. But paired with the insistent need to get rid of her, in order to make money for his oh so precious company, and the corset that was digging into her ribs more so than usual, Lucy was just peachy.
She was sitting politely, her hands folded in her lap as she glared out of the eyeholes of her white mask. The room was filled to the brink with saggy balled old men and, let's not forget, their young wives that had been keenly waiting for their ancient partners to die so they could pull the rod out of their asses and watch the gold flow.
Absolutely peachy.
Her father had been kind enough to take into consideration her request for a masquerade.
He thought his daughter – bright, bubbly, 'Lucky' Lucy Heartfilia – was being creative and, for once, willing to have hundreds of guests in their mansion. Oh no – she just wanted to see grotesque suitors fishing the money from under the folds and not have to see the moles and lecherous grins that decorated their drooping faces.
Maybe that way she could at least pretend her father wasn't selling her like a cheap whore.
Her eyes drifted to a short pudgy man, he proudly wore the receding hairline of the century, scraping up enough dignity to pull the long strands up and over the back of his head like a cheap toupee. He was grinning at her father, and even from her safe-zone almost fifteen metres away, she could see the tobacco that stained his teeth.
Her father looked at her from the corner of his eye, quickly enough that no one but she could see. He had always looked at her like that when he was contemplating a son in law. Considering the man had lasted more than three minutes in her father's presence, he had a large profit.
And from the two figures walking towards her, she was about to be part of that profit.
There wasn't any moment where she could run, especially when her corset made it hard to breathe sitting – and let's not mention her shoes. So, Lucy sat, calm and submissive, waiting. She saw a crease form above her father's eyebrow, she smirked to herself.
"Father," she addressed, just as she had been taught.
"Lucy," he started, gesturing to the short fat man. "This is Lord Tumbleton, head of the Tumbleton Corporation."
"How nice to know," she cleared her throat, staring at the gross one, smiling politely. "It is a pleasure to be acquainted with you and your receding hair line." She giggled, raising her hand to her mouth, "Oh how I hope you do not carry dominant genes." There was a snort to her left, presumably from another guest. Lucy stood abruptly, dusting her dress, ignoring the glare her father was giving her. "Now if you'll excuse me,"
"Lucy," her father warned.
She looked down at the man – because he was even shorter than her already short self – his mouth hanging open. "Chin up chap, I can smell breakfast from here."
And with that last comment, Lucy walked away, taking a glass of champagne and moving towards the tables with the food. She stuffed the delicious goodness into her mouth, not caring at the appalled looks she was getting from the snobby women.
There was a cough to her left, "Do you mind answering a question?" The voice was deep and Lucy looked up long enough to see blonde hair and a black mask.
"Yes, I do."
A pause.
"Well, can I ask for your opinion on a matter?"
Lucy sighed, stuffing another pastry into her mouth, chewing as she spoke. "I guess,"
He bent down, murmuring low enough so no one else could hear him, "Out of the two men over there," he pointed two of his fingers towards two men, one exceedingly tall and lean, the other much like Lord Tumbleton. She popped another desert into her mouth. "Who do you think is giving and who do you think is receiving?"
Lucy choked on her pastry, looking up from the table to take a long glance at him, still coughing. He was quite tall, almost as tall as the man he was referring to, and from the width of his biceps, he was quite muscular too. His hair was a similar shade to hers, and – to her great dismay – his eyes were shadowed by his mask.
Why can't Jude try to force me to marry men like this?
Taking air back into her lungs and pressing her lips together, Lucy looked back over to the two men. "Well, my gaydar is pretty strong," she started, "So, I think the lean one is getting it." She tilted her head, "Although the fat one could be submissive – you know how daddy issues work – but I think he needs to have a little control." She looked back at him, "But I think either way they're both not to opposed to having you join in the taste testing of the forbidden fruit, if you know what I mean."
The man to her left shuddered and Lucy laughed, taking a sip of her wine, laughing even harder as eye contact was made between her and the fat man – his eyes briefly flickering to her left in a hungry daze.
"Laxus Dreyar," he stuck his hand out, Lucy shook it, squeezing just as fiercely as he did.
"Lucy Heartfilia," she smirked, her eyes flickering to the bowl next to him. "For your benefit, I'm hoping he is very invested in fruit punch."
Laxus chuckled, shaking his head, "For your benefit, I'm hoping you have a lock on your door."
"I don't think I should be the one worried about sexual harassment," she clicked her tongue, "That stare was pretty intense if you ask me."
He stared at her for a long while, seeming to size her up. She stared back, "So it's safe to assume your Jude's daughter?"
She felt her face drop. She swallowed, forcing down the food in her mouth, not grabbing another pastry just yet. "That would be a correct assumption, depending," she drawled out, "on what it is you want."
He licked his lips, stealing pastry for himself. "How about a deal?" he popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly.
She felt an eyebrow rise, "And the terms?"
Laxus swallowed. "You mention my Grandfather's company to him, get him at least a little bit interested, and I will come to every single party he throws so you can discuss sagging scrotums with more than your thoughts for company."
Eyebrows waving at her hairline, Lucy pushed down her twitching lips, "You make it hard to say no, Mr. Dreyar." She took a sip of her champagne, analysing the offer.
Seeing him at every party certainly wouldn't be a bad thing.
"I will agree to your terms on one condition," he raised an eyebrow, "Considering I have never seen, nor heard of the Dreyar name, it would be safe to assume that you and your grandfather are new to this… class of society, correct?"
He nodded once, the mask hiding a furrowed eyebrow. "I can make that change," she stared at him in a way she had seen starved women look at meals. "If you do one thing for my own gratification." she purred, giving him a sultry smile.
This time his eyebrows raised, the tops of them peeking out of his gold trimmed mask. He smirked, "Deal. Now," he cleared his throat, his voice deepening slightly. "What is it that I have to do for you exactly?"
"You," she started, making her voice huskier then it needed to be, "Must," she licked her lips, "Go over to those fine men over there and introduce yourself." She pointed two of her fingers to two men, grinning as a cackle ripped free of her.
Laxus followed her fingers, his face draining in colour as he made eye contact with the fat man again, his lean partner behind him. "You're joking, right?"
Lucy shook her head, frowning, "Oh I never joke, Mr. Dreyar." There was a glint of humour in her eyes that he must've seen, along with a seriousness that let him know that he wouldn't be getting out of it. "Well, Miss. Heartfilia," he gulped, "I will be back."
He strolled off, making his way over to the men, and Lucy watched with an endless supply of pastries as the fat man jumped with glee, mumbling, "I wonder if their wives know."
After Laxus' return – in which he was sickly pale – he had glared at her, demanding her part of the deal. She had held up a hand, telling him matter-of-factly that: "With my usual stubborn qualities, I can't simply walk up to him and talk about someone. It needs to be planted as a seed."
He had glared at her and cursed her existence, but she had promised him.
And if her late mother had taught her anything, it was that she should never break a promise.
So Lucy sat at the long table, her father reading a newspaper as they ate their breakfast. "Father," she cleared her throat, wiping her mouth and putting down her cutlery. "I believe it is in our best interests to expand the company's railways through Magnolia." She looked up, he had his eyebrows raised, staring over the papers at her.
"I didn't think you had many interests concerning the company," His words were true of course, she hadn't ever actually showed any interest.
"Even so, Father, if we expand through Magnolia and then Hargeon, we can transport products from both towns and then further to the north."
After Laxus had gotten over his immediate disliking for her ideas, he had explained that his grandfather had recently become the town's new mayor.
"You do know what this entails, correct?"
Lucy nodded, swallowing thickly. If she were to take part in this promise fully, she would need to get married, and if she worked her luck, which must have been pretty impressive considering her title – 'Lucky' Lucy Heartfilia – then she would be ok with that.
"I spoke with a man at the masquerade the other week, Makarov, I think his name was, he currently came into power as Magnolia's new mayor."
"What a coincidence," she mumbled dryly.
"I suppose he would be too old for you to marry," he drummed his fingers along the wooden table. "Hargeon's mayor isn't young, but he would suitable."
She cleared her throat, "Excuse me, Father," she morphed her face into one of curiosity, not allowing her father to know that this was all going according to plan. "This Makarov man, he wouldn't happen have the surname Dreyar, would he?"
Her father thought back, "Yes, I believe he does." He frowned, "Why are you asking?"
"I spoke with a Laxus Dreyar at the masquerade, it must be Makarov's grandson." She nodded to herself, "He is the direct heir to Makarov, and should he get married, he takes over the families enterprises, not including Mayor of course." She paused, taking a piece of food and popping it in her mouth. She swallowed, "Would he not be a suitable man to marry?"
When the next ball had come around, Makarov and Laxus Dreyar were the first to get invites. They had arrived at the peak of the party. It wasn't a masquerade this time, and when Lucy saw Laxus' full face, she had to admit to herself that her plan had some serious bonuses.
There was a lightning shaped scar that ran down his right eye, somehow not actually damaging what lay underneath. His face was as chiselled as she had expected, his eyebrows as bushy as she had imagined. And his eyes were perfect replicas of an angry storm in the centre of the sea.
They had locked eyes, and Lucy immediately moved towards the food table, smirking and stuffing a pastry in her mouth.
"Just what strings did you pull, Miss Heartfilia?" She let her eyes drift to where Makarov, a short, slim man with white hair, and her father were chatting. Laxus hummed, "Apparently the right ones."
Lucy ignored him, "Those two women over there," she pointed out two black haired women with pushed up noses. "Did you know they are the wives of the two men from last time?"
Laxus tilted his head, "I can't say I did,"
"Me either."
Laxus stretched out his neck, searching the mingling guests. "Where are out two little friends anyway?"
Lucy grinned, "Oh, they both had to visit the little boy's room."
"Oh," Laxus pushed down his grin, "Apparently the fruit punch wasn't nearly as tempting as last time."
Lucy laughed, "Don't tell me you're jealous, Mr. Dreyar."
He scoffed, "I can assure you I am not."
"Well that is good."
He turned to her smirking, "Don't tell me you're jealous, Miss. Heartfilia?"
Lucy hummed, "I will be in about thirty seconds."
He frowned, "What?"
Lucy ignored him, "Oh, I forgot to tell you," she sipped her glass of wine, "You're a guest of honour tonight."
He narrowed his eyes, "What did you do?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, "I just got your company on its feet in the most efficient way possible." She looked over his shoulder, as her father climbed to the slightly elevated platform.
"Excuse me everyone!" Jude had raised his voice in a way that made everyone quieten.
Laxus turned; facing Jude, barely listening as the host spoke, thanking everyone for coming. He kept his eyes on Lucy. "What do you mean my company?
Lucy linked her arm through his, he stiffened slightly. Lucy grinned from ear to ear, "Remember when you told me that if you got married Makarov's companies were yours?"
He looked at Jude before snapping his eyes to hers, "…Yes.." he said hesitantly.
Lucy grinned, "Smile." He did, despite his curiosity.
"You were all invited here tonight in honour of my daughter, Lucy, and her new fiancé, Laxus Dreyar."
He stiffened, keeping his smile in place as the crowd of guests turned to them both.
"I wish them all the happiness the future can hold."
As the guests applauded and cheered, Lucy let her eyes move to Laxus'. He grinned down at her. "You are truly something, Lucy." He smirked, "I should've at least bought a ring."
Lucy laughed, too much sincerity in her eyes when she looked at him.
"Welcome to the company, fiancé,"
Hi, if you read any of my other stories, they will be on hold momentarily, as I can't access the files as of late.
Hopefully I'll get all that sorted out this week some time, if not, well, only time can tell.
HEY! YOU MADE IT! CONGRATS!
Well I really do hope you like this, it's been a stressful couple of weeks, so getting this out really is a relief.
Leave a review if you feel like it.
I'll see you all tomorrow!
