Hello! Hope everyone's doing alright.
foxydame, almost missed my slot here with two chapters in one week, phew ':D Thank you so so much for such a long review! I really appreciate it a lot! Haha, the chinwag is something I learned here, too :D Also thanks for the lovely expression 'make amends' - gotta add that to active vocabulary. Ambrose just pretended the report was done to send Jellal home, cause he wouldn't leave until work is finished, so Ambrose pretended it was to treat Jerza to a break. 'The Vamp wizard' xD too accurate xD Thanks again for reviewing!
The sun shone in through the high windows. The forecast had been wrong, the anticipated rain merely a short dapple while the wind had pushed the clouds far enough for the late midday sun to peek through, warming the dusty shelves.
A pale rainbow stretched its arc across the sky in her back, but she did not see. There was so grandfather clock's constant ticking out in the hall. Steps replaced the soothing noise, irregular, hasted, then already drowned out by the next. Voices carried but no words. The only noise inside was steady breathing, occasionally interrupted by a quiet curr.
Unaware of any steps, doors or voices until then, Erza gave a sigh in her fading sleep. But the lack of unthinking rest did not keep her from releasing another one, reality setting back in in the form of spiralling, nearly dizzying thoughts.
Already out of habit – a new habit she was not yet aware of being one – Erza stroked a hand down her rounding belly, even before opening her eyes. The curring had stopped, and she listened for another moment to verify whether she was assuming her location to be correct.
She was definitely not in bed. She missed her bed, but even that – or those – of the mansion in Era felt different from the loveseat she was currently curled up on. The backrest blocked out the sun that could have warmed her, and the swishing of Council employees' robes outside told her that – seeing as the Fridays ended earlier – her after-lunch nap had not stretched for too long. She wished it would have – the sooner they could leave, the happier she would be.
Blinking her eyes open when the pigeon had still not resumed its permanent cooing, she nearly winced. That was certainly not the bird she had expected – or a bird to begin with.
"My apologies, I did not mean to wake you," his voice was less rough with age than that of the Master. She knew who it was without ever having been introduced – in a way, she had been introduced through the stories Jellal retold, and she was rather sure the same applied vice versa.
"You didn't," she said, shaking her head, all the while unsuspiciously pulling down her husband's jacket he had draped over her shoulder.
"You needn't worry so much," Ambrose allayed, having noticed the gesture. "I know," he disclosed. Erza relaxed her shoulders, ceasing to cover her stomach's bulge. He smiled encouragingly at the remains of wariness, and she detected the hint of pity shimmering through. "And," he sat down in the armchair to the side of the sofa, and she watched with her eyes, glancing past her knees, "I also know that the great Titania will find a way for him to come round," he said, his smile softening.
There was a deviation in the way he pronounced her title – a distinct aspect she could not quite label as dialect. It was not a staccato, but rather a delicate pizzicato; a plucking of consonants in a bordering-foreign way. It made her name sound like the legend it grew around; a legend she had never known or much cared for. A name that now resonated from him with strength and a will she seemed to have misplaced.
"Where I come from, there is an old tale of such calibre: the tale of a mighty warrior – a woman – who hailed from high atop the snowy mountains, crossed the desert, and tamed the seas in a mere skiff, all in search of a more prosperous land for her people," Ambrose carried his voice in the same flamboyant demeanour, crossing his wispy legs. "It is said that she set the route for migratory birds, and people still seek out ways to challenge nature, following her example," he folded his hands.
"I've never heard of such a myth," Erza confessed, slowly sitting up. She could see why Jellal confided in the man – his way of speaking was immersive, and his words lured out curiosity.
"I don't believe they tell it here in Fiore,"
"'Here in Fiore'? Do you not come from here?" She asked, a flicker of pride at her own observation skills, derived from the way her title had flicked off his tongue.
"Seven, in the northeast,"
"I don't mean to be rude, but why would anyone then choose law of all things, and of a different country in a different language?" Erza tilted her head. He laughed at that and it was everything Jellal had told her it would be – it suited his face; his appearance of an old, wise man more than anything. It was fascinating how laughter could make someone seem illustrious.
"Oh, language was not that much of a barrier. You pick up a thing or two when bordering two countries – and in a hamlet of roughly 300 souls, there's not much else to busy yourself with," he explained. Another thing she would have noticed, would it not have been taking its effect right that instant, was that it was a pleasure to listen and to let oneself be absorbed into his stories – into the past of a near stranger; into something trivial without any need for action or rumination. Just… listening.
Erza had to smile a small smile at that. It reminded her of her own safe haven of Rosemary Village. A by civilization somewhat untouched spot in the middle of nowhere, giving the illusion of living in one vast adventure of unexplored nature. An ephemeral dream. But just as heavenly a dream she would wake up from to be met with the reality of Jellal, her loving husband right by her side, that Rosemary Village dream of the past had turned into an even more brilliant future – the present of her family in Fairy Tail.
Noticing to be lost in thoughts, Erza cleared her throat.
"Then I assume the big cities to have drawn you out here?" She asked politely. Glancing up, she saw him to still be smiling, undoubtedly aware of her spacing out.
He shook his head, unfolding hands and legs.
"No, no, it was my wife who dragged me here – and I mean dragged; not an entire heard of cold-blooded stallions would have possessed the same power. I was a loner and a coward," he chuckled. Another thing she found striking – the similar traits Jellal featured, the current lack of both shyness and self-consciousness the old man confessed to have had giving her another boost of hope when it came to her own adopted introvert. That this could be him, though hopefully at a younger age.
"Apart from the towing by force, that sounds quite romantic," Erza noted, receiving another chuckle, paired with a grin. "Following a woman into a foreign country,"
"It was – at least to her. To my village, I was a proper traitor," he laughed again, and there was no trace of the sheepishness she knew from Jellal in neither his tone nor expression. She judged that this man really would do him good. Just like she had when more or less compelling him to babysit and the results had spoken for themselves – the way he had let Laxus' remarks ricochet right off him had been marvellous to watch. Where had that gone, she wondered.
"Do you…" Erza collected her legs closer to her, holding on to her ankles at her side, "do you really believe that he will?" She asked quietly, staring down. His smile softened, and leaned forward while speaking.
"I know so," Ambrose ensured. He got up, sitting down beside her to place a hand on her knee. She hardly noticed how neither voiced to be returning to the original topic, simply knowing what she was implying. Ambrose also saw how she was not yet convinced – not that he had expected that – but she was sure by now that he could read most thoughts right off her forehead. He waited anyway.
"Did you also have a hard time accepting your wife's pregnancy?" She finally enquired. The fact that she had only just met him was long forgotten, not least since she had indirectly been getting to know him already through her husband's accounts, even before ever seeing him.
"No, I was exhilarated," he negated with a grin.
"Your wife wasn't?"
"She was," he nodded. "Only her parents wished me to hell," his grin did not fade. Erza frowned, slightly shocked. She had never considered the Master to dislike what or whomever she would choose. The reminder that it was, of course, a real possibility wound itself up through her insides like a string, a bow that mellowly wrapped up her concerns with the embedded gratefulness where it had begun to drown in her current misery.
Having her family and having Jellal by her side never really left her mind – him being there was still such an actively aware gladness, it made her anxious the moment he left the room. But having a family who accepted her feelings for her beloved had trickled to the back of her mind, just like him having been a villain had.
"They didn't approve of our marriage – or me to begin with – and neither did they endorse their daughter having my child, but once he was born; quite literally the moment they laid eyes on those chubby pink cheeks, they were completely enamoured with him," Ambrose chuckled, giving her a sincere look. "And those were just the grandparents," he reminded.
"Really?" Erza's gaze lifted with him as he patted her knee once, then stood. Oh, how she wanted to believe him.
"Really," Ambrose smiled reassuringly. "Let that certain someone speak for themselves," he flashed a glance at her belly. "It will all be worth the trouble, even with the first weeks and months of hardly any sleep," his gaze trinkled in fond memories as he rounded the coffee table.
"That wouldn't be all that different from now," Erza muttered, finding the sigh that followed not as heavy as her last. She wished their sleepless nights were caused by the child's crying instead of mere existing.
"You won't be saying that in a few months," Ambrose offered another laugh, and she raised her gaze to return a small smile. It was more thankful than relieved, but at least it reached her eyes. "When you have to wake up every two hours, but don't worry," the old man grinned, "by the time true irritation kicks in, it'll smile for the first time and all that frustration will just wash away," he gestured with his arms to imitate a wave.
"Was it like that with your son?" Erza asked, shifting to put her feet back on the ground.
"Oh, yes," Ambrose stroked two fingers over his moustache, "he was a con. He knew perfectly well to use his cuteness to his advantage," he nodded with a slyly distant spark in his eyes. And she might have noticed the distance in them, had she not regarded her feet instead. Her toes curled around one another next to where her boots stood.
"Jellal doesn't want his traits to be passed down," she murmured, the word 'con' having struck a nerve.
"Maybe not the traits he sees…" Ambrose, having noticed her shift of mood, lowered his volume to hers. Erza's eyes widened.
"That is…" She frowned in sudden realisation. It rushed her like a howling gale, Jellal's bravery, politeness, empathy, discipline, and all of the other things she knew he would have to honour coming to her mind. "That's brilliant," she almost exclaimed, eyes sparkling. She would just have to make him see that, and she knew a million examples to support her arguments. "Thank you, Mister, uh," she sank back again from almost having shot up to stand. He chuckled.
"Ambrose will suffice," Ambrose smiled, and this time, she beamed back at him. Opening her mouth to respond, Erza shortly froze when the door opened.
Jellal entered with the files he had gone to find in the archive.
He knew she was there – she had not illegally snuck in for once, though they did not blare it out any more than necessary. There had been a watch, Erza then remembered, guessing Ambrose to have sent them off once he had arrived.
"Speak of the devil," Ambrose friendlily greeted. An insecure frown pulled across Jellal's forehead.
"You were talking about me?" He slowly placed his findings onto the desk, gaze never leaving his colleague's while rounding the shelf where Erza could see him. His eyes flashed from one to the other, and she almost broke into a big smile herself, deciding to rather watch the old man's reaction instead. She would wait for a different environment to lead her trump.
"Yes," Ambrose enthusiastically confirmed, "but now that you're here, it's no fun anymore," he laughed his hearty 'hoho' laughter that made Erza think of the Master playing Santa Claus when they had been young. Ambrose then patted Jellal's shoulder while passing him. "Cheers," he took his leave, the door closing a moment later.
Slightly baffled, Jellal stood there between the shelves, blinking at the door. With suspicious concern, he turned to look at her, almost more confused to be meeting such shining eyes when they had been murky before he had left.
"Is everything okay?" He asked, and she nodded.
"Don't worry so much," Erza soothed. She stretched out a hand and he complied, taking it, allowing her to pull him to sit next to her. "He said he knew," she explained, "and that reminded me that I haven't told you yet, but I told Lucy and Wendy," she confessed, eyes flashing up from having focused on his hand in hers.
She kept on stroking his dorsum, relieved to find the gaze he returned neither shocked nor angry. And that he returned it at all, her heart fluttering like a tiny bird about to fledge.
"Well, they kind of noticed by themselves, even though I tried to hide it by showering separately," she added, and it triggered a caress of his own thumb over her hand.
"You didn't have to go out of your way to hide it," he soothed, though she knew he was glad she had. And that he hoped she would continue to do so, even if he had been the one to break the wordless agreement first. She had not minded, of course, both glad for him to have talked about his feelings with someone as well as about having gotten one of those talks herself. She had to admit that Ambrose was a valuable asset, and as a parent himself, the perfect source for advice.
"I did, and I will keep on doing so if you wish me to – you don't have to answer that now," she immediately added, knowing his oversensitive guilt-detectors to be crying havoc. It was a tightrope walk to give him a say in things, and of course she wanted him to utter his desires, but in his current state, it was obvious that he would go for whatever he deemed to be in her best interest.
Giving a squeeze, Erza offered a soft smile. His frown stayed, but he managed to return the smile, a tad sadly. He tugged on her hands, and her eyes fell closed when he leaned in, pressing a long kiss to her forehead.
"Thank you," Jellal whispered, his other hand joining their cluster on her lap, "for being so patient with me," he said. It made her smile despite everything. Because patience meant light at the end of the tunnel. It meant that he tried and that the end was foreseeable; that it was only a matter of time until he would come around, just like it had been prophesized to her.
He smiled, this time genuinely, the frown not gone but faint.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked, knowing it were still working hours and that if they wanted that honeymoon – and her to be allowed back into the building while he worked – he had to get back to his desk.
"I did," he said, and she noticed the lack of a comfortable hum he would usually give when they were alone. "I also filed in my holiday schedule," he surprised her.
"Holiday schedule?" Erza tilted her head.
"I wore the same expression you do now when Draculos told me yesterday," he smiled, almost laughed, and she could not help another fond tug at his hands. Aware of her actions – and the reason behind them – his frown of pity returned.
"When will we know if it's accepted?"
"It already is – I asked," Jellal announced. "Or pestered them until they approved," he muttered. She watched him expectantly, big eyes meeting a spark of content for the first time in a while. "We are on holiday, starting today."