It was much colder in the central park of Levinia than he had expected but, regardless, Makarov calmly walked as if there were nothing bothering him. People passed by, all of them seeming rather lively and preparing for the winter holidays. This was quite the opposite of the turmoil that presently dominated his thoughts. Even more so, with every step he took, he felt more and more dejected. There was a faint dusting of snow on the ground, and the crunch of the snow underneath his feet only added to the ominous feeling that permeated his thoughts. There was no way to describe what he felt, except for wildy conflicted. He knew well that he could be making a terrible mistake. He knew that there was a chance Ivan was trying to trap him. All of that still in mind, however, Makarov continued forward through the city's central park.
When he reached the fountains, he immediately saw - even from quite a distance - the imposing form of his son sitting on the edge. Ivan's eyes narrowed when he spotted his father, and Makarov took in a deep breath when he first saw him. Ivan looked quite different than he had the last time he had seen him years before. His hair was ary, although it was brushed over his shoulder in a long ponytail. He also was completely shaven, and there were clear, dark circles and wrinkles under his eyes that showed his age. When Makarov finally reached him, he stared at him for quite a while, and Ivan did the same. Then, much to his surprise, Makarov extended his hand and, even more to his surprise, Ivan shook it, if looking rather disdainful.
"I presume Laxus has no idea that this 'meeting' is occurring?" Ivan said, no lack of bitterness to his voice. "I assume if he knew that he would be here and try to exact revenge for what I did to his brat?"
Makarov stiffened despite himself. "That would be why I didn't say anything to him or Hisui. I sincerely doubt they would have taken this well."
Ivan snorted. "That I believe. He's rather...protective of her and their children."
"He's a father," Makarov said shortly. "At least, he's what one should be."
Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Is that a jab at me? I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten the lies you left me with for years, or the things that you've -"
"I would prefer this not be about whatever you have to say against me, Ivan," Makarov coldly replied. "This is about a matter that is solely political."
"It's much more personal than that," Ivan matched his tone as they began to walk. "Don't try to hide the fact that this is a personal matter, and nothing you say about it being 'political' is ever going to change that. Everything about this has always been personal, at least on my part. What Irene does is her business."
Makarov frowned. "Yes, I suppose that is true."
"Speaking of Irene, I can assure you that I did not breathe a word of this to her," Ivan sent his father a dark look. "Not for your sake, but for mine, considering that she would probably execute me on the spot if she ever got word that I had even considered speaking to any of you."
Makarov shook his head. "It doesn't sound to me that you have a high view of her."
"She's fixated on a portrait of self-gratification and nothing more, although, for what it's worth, she did confess that she will never lay a finger on Jellal, Erza, or Wendy," Ivan snorted. "Ironic, considering that they're the ones, I'm sure, that orchestrated that plot with Irides to take Fallon back. I presume that she's still alive and at home in Fiore?"
Makarov turned to him with narrow eyes. "Yes," He said shortly. "She's perfectly fine, although that's no thanks to anything you've done. I suspect she'll never fully recover emotionally from the ordeal, and, you ought to know, Laxus is rather incensed by it."
Ivan rolled his eyes. "I would have taken any of his brats. She just happened to be the easiest one to do so the night I was there."
"That does not make it better, Ivan," Makarov disdainfully responded. "What happened to you? Why is it you'll stop at nothing to make everyone's lives miserable?"
Ivan paused and looked to him in surprise. Then, after a few seconds, he regained himself enough to cogently reply.
"Everything I have done has been strategic, and for my own gain," Ivan said, a haughty note to his voice. "As for Laxus...well, that goes far deeper than simple gain. With that boy…."
Makarov eyed him critically, waiting for him to continue. Ivan, however, said nothing more and continued walking. As well, the two men quickly made attempts to hide any hint of emotion from the other, well aware that both of them were looking for it. Makarov, in particular, found himself unusually curious. He was almost certain he understood the feelings Ivan had towards Laxus; that he was weak, and would never have been anything without his grandfather's renown and Ivan's own work in forcing him to become a dragon slayer. Over the years, it seemed, that had become abundantly clear. Ivan had no sympathy for any one so far as Makarov had ever seen and, based on everything he had done to Laxus and especially to the family Laxus and Hisui would do anything to protect, it seemed Ivan got no shortage of satisfaction from bringing them to their knees.
Ivan, however, was, in this particular instance, a bit more conflicted than his father would ever be able to give him credit for. While he knew full well that anything Makarov could accuse him of was probably true, particularly when it came down to Laxus and Hisui, the one thing Makarov did not know was that Ivan was very much reconsidering what his tactical advantage could be. For years, he had aligned himself with the Empire because, (a) it had been convenient and, (b) it had given him a position of power he knew he could never have snagged elsewhere. However, Irene's erratic behavior had only grown worse in the months since Fallon had been taken back to Fiore, and Zeref had become all the more cryptic, something which Ivan found utterly infuriating. With no one telling him much more than he already knew and the scouts turning up nothing, he had more than once found himself questioning how much longer his work in the empire would serve him well.
Perhaps what scared him most was the mission Zeref had tasked him with, and the fact that he knew Irene objected to it despite going along with her "greatest general." Irene's objections, Ivan fathomed, likely stemmed from the knowledge that what he was tasked with, all things considered, was nothing short of a fool's errand, a suicide mission, and a distraction if nothing else. It was part of Zeref's design to distract the world from whatever it was he would be doing while fucking around in Magnoila and "dealing with" Fairy Tail though he had not given so much as a hint as to what that meant. Ivan was well aware that launching an assault on the Magic Council would not end well for him, no matter how many men he was allowed to bring with him. Even if it were him and his troops against the members of the Council alone, he knew his chances of surviving that were not good. What they would do to him after, too, was so unknown that it sent chills down his spine.
"You said this meeting is to...come to an agreement of sorts," Ivan said as they rounded a corner, his voice lowering as they walked. "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?"
Makarov sighed. "I'm offering you the chance to either lay down your arms and convince Irene to do the same because the amount of blood shed has already been….terrible, to say the least. Your other option, of course, is to double cross her, not return to the Empire, and help us find a way to put an end to this."
Ivan resisted the urge to laugh. "That's almost ridiculous on the face of it. Irene will never be convinced to compromise, and you very well know it."
Makarov stared at him for a moment. "You did not address the other half of the proposal," He shortly noted.
Ivan began to respond - something half-sarcastic and half-preservatory, no doubt, but immediately turned around and blasted his magic forward to block the suddenly enraged, pink haired man who had started running towards him, letting out a guttural growl. Makarov was knocked several feet back by the sheer force that surrounded him, and the dust that rose up from the ground, coupled with the snow that had been there too, only made it more difficult for him to see. What stunned him, however, was the woman that got blasted near him. Her blonde hair suddenly in a terrible mess and her clothes also had a bit of dust, singed in a few small places. When she saw him, she immediately let out a shocked scream before burying her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed and horrified. Makarov, when he finally could see clearly, spoke:
"Lucy!" He barked. "What in the hell are you doing here?"
"You know who told me to trail you…" She said, flushing red and shaking herself off. "I hadn't told Natsu anything, and -"
"Fernades sent you after…" Makarov shook his head. "I should have known she would pull something like that. Good God, she and I are going to have words when -"
He cut himself upon noticing that a small crowd was starting to gather, watching the spectacle unfold around them. Natsu and Ivan were now deeply intense in a brawl, and Ivan, not holding back, kept shooting flares into and around the fire dragon slayer while trying to pull the damn flying cat that kept biting at and tugging his hair off of him. What he found so unusually irritating was that almost every attack he sent the man's way was consumed by him. When he sent miasmas at him, the man ate it and, even more surprisingly, incorporated them into his fire. Ivan could hardly believe it. He hadn't fought anyone quite like this in years and, while he knew he had never fought a dragon slayer other than his son before, this power reminded him of Laxus' - a fact which utterly terrified him. He was unprepared, had not fought in months, and -
Suddenly, he felt a knife pressed against his neck and himself being slammed into the ground. Reaching back, stunned, he touched the back of his head only to find it was starting to bleed. The damned cat had also clamped down hard on one of his hands, its claws and teeth digging into it and preventing him from doing much of anything, especially with the way this man had pinned his other arm behind him. Focusing his magic energy into his feet, Ivan attempted to kick the man off of him and did manage to knock him off long enough to unbind his only free hand. WIth this, he fired several shots of his magic towards the man, finally managing to get a good hit on him, which winded the man. He did not lose his knife, however, and simply sheathed it on his side again. Then, he charged once more. A bit more prepared, Ivan fired widely around him, not giving much of a damn about all of the people around them.
The two got into closer range, with Ivan still trying to shake the cat off him and utterly stunned that he was struggling to do so much. Shouts began to ring out among the roused crowd, and, among them, Makarov and Lucy were struggling with the amount of people jousting them around and pushing them back and away from the scene. Paying absolutely no mind to that, Natsu and Ivan continued their skirmish, ripping up pavement and cobblestones, throwing them into the grass, into the trees, into the fountains, and causing an unsurprising amount of noise and ruckus. Finally within close range, Ivan flurried several short but brutal punches into the man's stomach, which unleashed terrible screams of rage from him. He then began to (quite literally) spit fire at him. Ivan ducked and rolled out of the way the best he could though, for the first time in ages, he could feel his age. It was certainly not a realisation he was enjoying, but something worse shortly occurred to him.
If this is one damn Fairy Tail mage, one with, apparently, no sense of control, what would the power of the Wizard Saints on the Council and the other members be against me? They certainly would take out any of my troops in a matter of minutes. How long would it take, then, for them to subdue me if they weren't holding back?
Just as this occurred to him, he found himself skidding against the pavement. Still as enraged as ever, the man continued to storm towards him in a serious fury, tackling him once again after nearly lighting him completely on fire. This time fully winded and wheezing, Ivan tried to appear smug and laughed at the man the best he could but he stopped when he coughed up a bit of blood. The man pressed the knife flush against his neck again, hate and fire clear in his eyes, and Ivan's own eyes betrayed the fact that, for the first time in decades, he was sincerely scared. This man could and appeared to be so seething and ready to kill him. With the people around them having started to recognise him, too, now that his hood and cloak had blown off, Ivan was almost certain that this was looking death in the face. He couldn't even remember if he had ever felt this before, but, by all means, it left him feeling more afraid than he ever had in his life.
"What are you doing to Gramps?" The man yelled, pressing the knife against Ivan's neck with a bit more force, drawing out small beads of blood. "You've already tortured a little girl, why not -"
Suddenly, Natsu found himself being punched off by an impossibly large hand, the same soon following to Happy on Ivan's hand. When he turned to see what had happened, Ivan saw himself face to face with his father, who was glaring at all of them. Just behind his shoulder was a blonde woman holding an array of keys tightly in her hands, her brow furrowed in deep concern. Ivan remained on the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. He had never felt more out of practice. The pink haired man and the cat did not make any other moves towards him, either, as Makarov and the blonde woman approached them. Then, to the shock of everyone around them, Makarov helped Ivan off the ground and before sending him and the pink haired man a sharp glare, one that could only be described as unsettling if one were to put it mildly.
"Never," Ivan eventually managed to say, his voice low. "Would I have thought you would save my life from anything, much less a member of your fucking guild."
Makarov turned to him, his eyes ablaze. "You are still my son," He said darkly. "And, given what this was intended to be, his actions were uncalled for."
Ivan eyed him for several minutes, his thoughts swirling before he finally said the last words he thought he would say:
"If I turn my back on the Empire, will you tell me everything? The truth, for once in your goddamned life?"
Makarov evenly met his gaze and nodded. "Yes," He said. "Provided you don't try anything funny."
Ivan frowned. "The same goes for you," He coldly replied.
Makarov sighed heavily and extended his hand once more. "Are we in agreement, then? That you will fight against your co-conspirators?"
Ivan gripped his hand with almost overwhelming force and nodded as he shook it. "If that's what it takes to ensure my survival," He said. "Then yes."
Still on the ground and probing his forehead in shock, Natsu finally found it in him to clear his throat and try to speak, albeit with Lucy awkwardly helping him up while sending Makarov an apologetic look and Happy purring on her shoulder. He, of course, was gnawing on a fish from her bag. Natsu, now getting out more than unintelligible croaks, looked around, perhaps too confused by everything that had just transpired for his own good.
"I hate travelling," He muttered. "What a shit show…"
Happy chuckled. "His poor brain," The cat joked. "I'm not sure it's gonna take much more today."
Lucy shook her head. "You can say that again. What exactly just happened and how pissed off is Laxus going to be about it when he finds out about it? Because, honestly, the odds probably don't look good at all."
Happy shrugged. "Ehhhhhhh it'll be fine!" The cat declared. "It always is, anyways!"
