Jellal is gone again when Erza wakes. Sometimes, it feels like her lover is a ghost, an illusion, something she dreamed up after the Tower of Heaven incident. The only reason she knows it's not true is Natsu's mostly contained resentment toward him. She isn't a fool—they're civil, yes, but if that's ever broken and they clash again, they'll likely destroy one another.
She rises. Her head still spins but the knot has gone down some and she can stand and walk without falling apart.
She's using her magic to change clothes when someone taps on the door. Lucy comes in before Erza can invite her. She looks sheepish when she sees Erza standing in the centre of the room.
"I thought you'd still be asleep."
If she listened to her body and didn't push herself so hard all the time, maybe she would be. "I'm ready to see the council."
Lucy bites her lip white. "Are you sure, Erza?"
And not, are you sure you want to go through all that hassle when you don't feel well, but are you sure you saw what you thought you saw?
"I know what happened," Erza bites.
Lucy of old would shrink away from her. This one puts her chin out and nods. "If you say so, then I believe you."
Her unwavering faith is what makes Lucy such a good friend. Erza would smile on any other day, tell her she's amazing, pull her close. Today, she can't drum up the words and is thankful only when Lucy falls into step behind her.
"The boys are already at the Council," Lucy says as they walk. "Apparently, someone killed another Councilman last night. Wolfheim. It was terrible."
Erza trips on her own feet and nearly goes down.
"Careful!" Lucy catches her and pulls her close so they're walking shoulder-to-shoulder, Lucy's arm around Erza's waist and Erza's around Lucy's shoulder.
"Sorry," Erza mutters.
"Don't apologize," Lucy lightly scolds.
"Tell me about the Councilman."
"I don't know very much." Lucy holds open the door for Erza, letting them out into the cool morning air. The sun is just humping over the horizon. Few people are on the street but those that are, stare, and Erza determines she must look a wreck. Her hair hasn't even been straightened. There is no time for vanity; the world needs to know of Eros' transgressions immediately. When she was a child, she was too weak to do anything about him. Now she is grown, and she has the words to run her accusations.
Lucy speaks again, drawing her wandering thoughts. "I only know he was found in his home this morning because he didn't appear at a meeting he was supposed to be hosting."
Erza thinks of Natsu's hellhound nose. Will he smell Jellal on the body and assume the truth? What will he do with that information? He's so righteous, bent on doing the right thing, even if it's not necessarily the just thing. The only time his turns his cheek to the law is when the guild is involved.
Maybe… she thinks, remembering the way he stood against the Council at the Tower of Heaven, the way he stood by her, even though they were going to be blasted by the etherion cannon.
You ask so much of your friends, Erza chides herself. You poured this bath of blood, now bathe in it.
Guards stand at the council doors as though the murder is going to walk right in and slit the throats of the councilmen in broad daylight. Erza smiles at the irony as they nod to her and open the doors, telling her,
"You're expected, Miss Scarlet. In the Badger Meeting Room. Alone, I was told. And then the council would like to see you in their chambers." The guards look suspiciously at Lucy like she's going to pull a blade and slam it through a man's heart.
Lucy is obviously ruffled. "She's injured, she could need help."
The men stand stoically as if she hasn't spoken at all.
"I'll be fine, Lucy," Erza assures her. She detaches herself from Lucy's shoulder. The world tilts once, but evens out again and Erza pulls herself forward, into the halls of the Magic Council.
It's as bright and cavernous today as it is at any other time, but more than ever, Erza feels like she's walking in through the belly of a huge, transparent beast. There are few people in the halls but those that are there stop and stare at her and this time she doesn't think it's for her state or her infamy. Word has gotten out about the East Shores.
Erza hesitates outside the Badger Meeting Room with her hand on the doorhandle. She's at once sure whatever waits for her on the other side is not going to be good for her.
You've never turned away from anything before, she reminds herself. Remember what they say? You're Erza. You're Erza Scarlet, and you can face anything. Or some such nonsense. It's an inflated view she rises to only because it's expected of her. If she had worse friends that never believed in her, she's sure she'd be nothing but a beggar on the street, no magic, no imagined mystique.
She throws open the door with the gusto of a confident person. The breath leaves her, and she stalls, one foot in, the other still in the hallway.
"I'm sure you don't want this conversation overheard," says Eros. "Do come in, close the door."
Erza takes a rusty step inside. The door is on a return spring and slides closed silently.
She's never been in a room alone with Eros before. He takes up a lot of space without trying. He's sitting behind the oval desk in the centre of the room, not standing to intimidate her. His eyes are the blue of an ice-covered lake, mid-winter. They travel the length of Erza's body and back again as if looking for something.
Erza works some spit into her dry mouth, enough to wobble out, "Why am I here?" She hates the way her voice wavers just slightly on the end. Anyone else might not catch it, but Eros lives for fear and he singles in on it like a wasp on rotting apples.
"To discuss last night's events," Eros says easily.
"When you murdered a little girl for no reason other than you wanted to?" It isn't wise to play all her cards at once, she knows this, but she'll ruin him here if she must. She wants to. She'll even face the consequences, give up the rest of her hunting, if that's what it takes to destroy this fraud.
Others would have squirmed under Erza's more-righteous-than-god attitude. Eros seems merely amused. "I was thinking more along the lines of when you turned into a dragon beast and attacked me." He holds up his bandaged arm between them. "A slower man would have had your blade in his heart, not his arm."
Erza tears her eyes away from the off-white bandage. It stinks of antiseptic. "If I did turn into any such beast, surely you'd be dead."
The threat hangs between them.
Eros leans forward. The overhead light limns his dark hair, makes a cavity out of the scar chasing his chin. His face is stubbled, where usually it's clean-shaven. He has no home to return to, no creature comforts, she reminds herself, and that, cruelly, brings her some satisfaction.
Eros, voice pitched low, queries, "All pretenses aside, what are you, Miss Scarlet?"
A demon, she thinks. A dragon. A devil, if she needs to be. "A Fairy Tail mage."
"A beast," he corrects. "With waning control, I think. And beyond that, a murderer, perhaps?"
She's taken aback and cannot answer.
Eros reaches beneath the desk and pulls out a paper bag. He sets it on the table between them. It looks criminal.
"Go ahead."
You're Erza, she mantras. Nothing frightens you for long.
She reaches for the bag; her fingers are cold and clumsy grasping it. It rustles open, loud in the quiet room. Eros watches her with the intensity of a hunter, monitoring her expression as three glossy black scales tumble out onto the table. They glitter like black diamonds, sharp-looking.
To her credit, Erza's face remains impassive. She looks up from the scales to Eros and raises an eyebrow.
"They were found at some of the most recent murder scenes."
Erza touches one. It's cold and hard and digs into finger and draws up a bead of blood. "Is this supposed to mean something?"
"Soon," he says, just as impassive as Erza feigns, except she doesn't think his calm is forced. "I imagine they'll have a whole story to tell and you'll be at its centre."
"Is that so?" She narrows in on his neck, the pale skin stretched over muscle and tendon. One of her short swords would work well in this confined space. It'll be sharp enough, there won't even be that much blood at first. She won't be able to stop it coming, though, and once it starts to spray and dresses her in red, there will be no doubt in the council's mind that she is the murderer.
"I think for a man who has taken a life in front of witnesses, you should be more careful to throw around the M word, Eros," she says. Her blood throbs in her ears and she can't hear if her voice is shaking or not.
Eros rubs his bandaged arm thoughtlessly. "Right. Who was that young man that rushed to your side to stop your transformation? The fire eater? Natsu Dragneel?"
Cold runs over Erza's skin. She plants her hands on the table, so she doesn't curl them in Eros' prim collar. "You will die if you touch anyone I care for."
He grins with his teeth. "You must tell me what I've done to incite your ire."
"Killed innocents who didn't deserve to die."
"Innocents. Plural. Not just the thief now, I see?"
She realizes her mistake too late. She's given Eros a trail to follow. She straightens and turns her back on him, slamming the door in her wake.
Councilman Tweed roosts high above Jellal wearing an expression of sick shock. On the floor between them, in a closed casket, lies the body of Councilman Wolfheim. Beneath the wood, his wounds gape and are many. Jellal sees them each in his mind and is at a crossroads between disgusted and pleased. He's done good work. Dirty work. But good work.
"This is unacceptable," Tweed says. His voice echoes throughout the cavernous chambers. Their dwindling numbers are apparent now. Jellal casts his eyes over the empty seats. Six members of the council remain. All their eyes are focused on Jellal. He loves being in the spotlight, it's true. He loves being in the spotlight while holding a secret even better.
"Perhaps the killer's goal is to completely undermine the power the Council carries?" Jellal suggests straight-faced.
Redness crawls up Tweed's neck into his sagging cheeks. "We are weak now." He looks at his fellow councilmembers in turn. "We must vote again and add another powerful mage to our numbers." He looks at Jellal meaningfully. "Prove to this murderer we will not be walked on."
The other members are quiet. Jellal keeps his expression stoic.
Tweed orders, "Wait in the hallway while we discuss."
Jellal bows his head and ducks out, the picture of contrition. In the hallway once the door is closed, though, he smiles. He doesn't need a spell to know what's being said inside the room. They will vote for him and grant him all the access he wants. Erza will have her list of sinners and will expunge them from this suffering world, and they'll be better for it.
One of the doors down the hallway flies open and Erza herself stalks out. She looks like fury; it sparks from her person. Her eyes narrow in on Jellal and he thinks for a moment, she'll run him through simply because she's looking for anyone to run through. He considers opening his arms wide for her destruction.
Erza casts a look backward before slowing. She's shaking so badly; she can barely draw breath. He hasn't seen her so disordered before. "Jellal."
The way she says his name makes him want to reach for her. She does not look like she wants to be touched.
The door she stormed out of opens again and Jellal understands her anger a bit better. Eros is a beast of a man and must duck when he exits. He locks eyes with Jellal, with Erza, and interest crosses his features. Understanding. Foreboding settles in Jellal's stomach, poisonous as pitch.
"I'll come to you after and you can explain," Jellal tells her. Erza looks wounded for the span of a breath. When it clears, she's not the quivering girl from the Tower of Heaven and she's not the forgiver from Nirvana. She's the dragon, lying coldly in her den, waiting for the foolish passerby to linger too long. He thinks again of laying down for her, letting her find his heart with her sword.
Not yet, he thinks. Not yet. But soon, we'll have everything we wanted.
Erza turns her back on Eros, standing by the benches in front of the council chambers, and Eros moves on down the hallway. Jellal feels like he's just been through two storms. He himself is shaken. There is no time to straighten his thoughts. The door opens and Tweed is there, taking up the frame and thensome with his girth.
"Come into the chambers, Miss Scarlet," Tweed orders. She squeezes between him and the doorframe. Then he looks at Jellal with weary eyes. "Gods have mercy on us all. Welcome back to the Magic Council, Councilman Fernandez."
No matter how he tries, Jellal can't straighten the edges of his smile, or Siegrain's heartfelt, "It's good to be back."
Erza's hands are sweaty. She stares at the casket in the centre of the room and thinks maybe she's either going to die laughing or be sick with guilt. The council members sit in their chairs high above her and watch her with curious eyes, silent, except for Councilwoman Verity's quill scratching over a piece of parchment. Whatever she's taking notes on, it makes Erza antsy.
Councilman Tweed rejoins them, and Jellal is by his side. Tweed huffs climbing up the stairs and returning to his seat. Jellal takes a seat at the end and it's like she's gone back in time. She knew his plan; knew he was trying to get back onto the Magic Council. She just had no faith that the councilmen would stretch their hands out to the dog that's already bitten them once. His ability to sway a person's opinions and to make the cards fall in his favour are uncontested.
Everyone settles and they stare down at Erza like gods. She's a jumbled mess after Eros.
"Miss Scarlet," Tweed begins. His eyes trek slowly to the body between them, a knee-jerk reaction that feels like an accusation to jumpy Erza. "We've already spoken to the first two members of your team, but this council would like to hear your report on the Crang incident last evening."
She knows what Natsu and Gray has told them and had planned to go against their word, Eros be damned. But she sees him in the meeting room again, smiling at her like he knows a secret she's never told anyone (Murderer), and she can't get her mouth to move around the accusation.
"Miss Scarlet?" Councilwoman Verity prods.
Erza looks to Jellal. He's sitting back in his old seat as though he's never left it. His eyes are on her, unwavering. There's a slight cant to his mouth that she finds unsettling. It worms into the deepest part of her and makes her think of indecent things.
"I understand you witnessed Crang's untimely end," Jellal interjects. For a moment, the Council looks away from Erza and studies Jellal instead. She can work some air into her lungs, get her thoughts in order.
"That's correct. She was taken by the fire." She's already been through hell with Eros. Her voice doesn't shake.
"Tell us about it," Tweed levers. "I know it may be uncomfortable, but I ask that you spare no details. This incident has done a lot of damage to the East Shores and we need to understand what has happened and why."
Money is breathing down his throat, he means. The East Shores homes are owned by the rich. Erza's hit with a wave of rage. She doesn't care that rich people have lost their homes. A girl, thief or not, has had her life stolen from her, unasked, unwarranted.
She looks at Jellal again. Silently, he wills her on. She imagines what he'd like her to do, speak the truth or go with Natsu's lie? He'd probably want her to play the politics. Just a little longer, he seems to say. And then we'll make all these people suffer for their transgressions. Let Eros lie for now, they'll get him, and others, too.
She lets out her breath and recants what she imagines is Natsu's version of the tale. When none of the council members flinch, she assumes she said the right things in the right places.
Silence follows the end of her speech. More scratching of quills. The occasional scrutinizing glare.
Verity speaks. "While this is unfortunate all around, the burning of the homes, the loss of that girl's life, we can at least close the chapter on the Capitol's thieving. Whomever her next target, they can rest easy."
"And the person she was stealing for?"
"While it'd be nice to close the case completely, I doubt it'll happen," Verity says. "We'll have to dub it irrelevant until they start causing trouble with their stolen artefacts, I should think."
Erza sees red even when her eyes are open. She must remind herself to breathe. This small woman with her small-minded views doesn't mean to be so callous. How could she, when beyond this building lay so much unfettered destruction?
"Are you alright, Miss Scarlet?" That's Jellal's voice. It's not entirely kind. If she went off now and murdered the remaining council members, he would join her, his tone suggests.
Erza pulls herself out of the mire, blinking and concentrating. "Forgive me. I hit my head in the fire."
"During the explosion," Verity says not unkindly. "We heard from your team members."
Generous of them. "Yes. If you'll forgive me, I'd like to excuse myself."
"We've one more item on our agenda, Miss Scarlet," Councilman Tweed speaks, and Erza resigns herself to their company for another moment. He gestures to the casket. "As you can see, last night's fire wasn't the only trouble the capitol faced. As you know, members of our council are being targeted by a killer. Per our prior conversation, we're putting out an official bid to the guilds to catch the killer, but we wanted to personally request your talents. Have you discussed it with your team?"
She wants to laugh in their faces. She wishes she didn't clean her sword of Louis Hemming's blood. She wishes she is brazen enough to throw it down between them and scream. She wishes she could drop to her knees in front of them with her hands held together and beg them to make her stop, and if they can't, then to at least make the nightmares go away.
A calmness befalls her when she considers what that means. She's never wanted the relief of death. She's a fighter. She slogs through the mud for justice. And she will keep slogging. Even if the going is difficult and riddled with fat bureaucrats that can't spot a dragon when they see one.
Erza apologizes to her team members for making the decision for them, especially Lucy, who can't seem to handle any kind of dead. "We've agreed, it would be an honour to catch your murderer." She bows slightly as she says it and looks through her lashes. Jellal's wearing a smile that makes her belly warm and her heart cold.
"Excellent. We feel safer in your capable hands." Tweed stands. "I'll leave you to discuss with your team how you would like to proceed, and we'll wait for your instruction."
"You'll hear from us before the day is through," Erza promises.
The council stands and disburses, even Jellal. Erza is alone. She looks at the casket where Wolfheim lies and tells herself she isn't curious. Then she tells herself it's too morbid to check and that people could be watching. She meets herself in the middle and steps forward and lays her hand against the cold wood. "May the Gods have mercy on your soul."
And mine.
A/N: Welcome back to another episode of I'm Behind! :D
This story (again) is for Eleeka, per her request through Patre on. If you'd like to request your own, the link is in my bio.
Thanks for reading and reviewing, guys. Ily, be safe, please. The world's getting super, super, sooooper crazy. Keep your head.