As the sun cast the first glimmer of vibrant color through the gray clouds hanging over the eastern skyline, Zeref emerged from the forest carrying the lax body of Mavis Vermillion, Master of Fairy Tail. He tried to recall the names of her friends as he walked towards Magnolia to bring them her body. It was the last gesture he could make, and he reasoned he owed her that much. I'm so exhausted. These feelings have left me drained. All I want is numb seclusion. I know; I'll go back to Alakitasia and play my game some more. There's no one I care about on that entire continent.

Bending his head absentmindedly as he neared the outskirts of the city, Zeref caught sight of the dried blood and semen crusting Mavis's inner thighs for the first time, the ragged slip she wore unable to cover more than half of them. Hesitating, he reversed course on impulse after wearily suppressing another wave of self-loathing and sadness. Practically speaking, it didn't matter how soiled a dead body was, but a part of him was nauseated by the idea of disrespecting the former vessel of a loved one in such a callous manner. He still had a little humanity left in the void that was his heart, and he forced himself not to overthink the impetus that caused him to walk in the opposite direction of Magnolia.

A few minutes later he stopped at a narrow creek, one of many winding through the forest, and dumped his corpse on the ground unceremoniously. She landed on her side, limbs sprawled and hair spread on the ground. He was preparing to rinse her thighs when he thought he sensed something that caused his eyes to widen in disbelief. A residual, very faint trace of magic power. Glancing around to ascertain that he was alone in the woods, Zeref turned to the only possible source the faint energy could be emanating from. If it was from her...then she was still alive.

His heart thumped with uncomfortable force as he pressed her back to the ground and laid his ear over her chest, listening for a pulse. His hopes fell slightly when he couldn't sense one. "But still," he said aloud, straightening. "The fact that I'm sensing magical power from you means you aren't dead, Mavis. And to think of how close I came to palming you off on your friends."

If she wasn't dead, then she might be immortal after all. Taking hold of her shoulders, he shook her persistently, despite feeling foolish attempting to wake a person without a pulse. "Mavis," he said urgently. She didn't stir, her face unperturbed. Nothing he tried could wake her, and he soon realized why: his curse was unable to kill her, but it had drained her life force, leaving her in an unresponsive state somewhere in the realm between life and death. It made sense, considering the nature of their shared curse. He brushed aside the worry that he might kill her while she was in her current condition, knowing it was illogical. If he hadn't truly taken her life so far, nothing could.

Maneuvering her body a bit more mindfully this time, he gently rinsed the tender area between her legs, then her thighs in the cold running water. Satisfied that at least she wasn't visibly soiled, Zeref blotted her skin dry with his toga and lifted her body once more. A more thorough bath would have to wait.

When he was washing Mavis, he'd realized what he hadn't before; the body in his arms was warm and supple. A corpse would have rigor-mortis set in by now. She isn't dead, he repeated to himself, the meaning of that thought reaching through his icy shell of grief at last. Closing his eyes in exhausted relief, he stood slowly. Going in search of a dark place, he found a large hollow tree that was a shell of its former glory. Laying down inside it, Zeref pulled her pliant form close and promptly fell asleep.

Late the next morning, he gradually awoke from his dreamless day-long slumber and hugged the warm, foreign female body in his arms closer. Then his eyes flew open as he remembered no one should be touching him, and he took in the sight of Mavis's peaceful face. He could still sense the faint magical energy inside her, and he tensed as memories flooded him. Her kind voice, saying they'd find a way to lift the curse together. How she had accepted him, and wouldn't reject him. He remembered the unique way her lips had felt against his, soft and sweet and yielding. Then he recalled what happened afterwards and his cock hardened inconveniently. The thought of why Mavis was comatose was enough to jerk him from his lustful haze, however, and he disengaged her body from his and sat up. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Zeref sighed and silently began thinking.

He would take Mavis with him to his empire in Alakitasia, and find a safe way to revive her there. He possessed the means to have her cared for by numerous magic doctors, and he could further study the history and effects of Ankhseram's curse. His desire for breaking it had never been greater, now that it was fueled by so much more than self-interest or an intrinsic sense of duty to mankind and the faceless lives he had stolen. Never to his knowledge had two people possessing the curse loved each other, though it might turn up in the records—if he could find records of the affliction. To the best of his knowledge, Mavis and himself were the only two who were fortunate enough to have received the Curse of Contradiction, though he could very well be wrong.

He'd also never seen a wizard in such a peculiar coma before; Mavis wasn't dead, but nor was she precisely alive, and he was uncertain as to whether the two were one and the same. As long as he hadn't killed her, the rest could and would be resolved. He would solve the mystery of the magical power he sensed, and he had an eternity to do so.

Gently, Zeref brushed a lock of pale golden hair from Mavis's face, his mind made up. There were few limits on what he was willing to do; he would even use the R-System if necessary to revive her, although of course that wouldn't work on an undead person. As he watched her peaceful features, he had the uncanny feeling that she was with him and brushed it off. He needed his wits about him and he couldn't afford to have his senses tricking him into believing Mavis was awake somehow.

With one arm under her back and the other beneath her knees, he stood resolutely, feeling less dazed and more hopeful than the first time he'd picked up her body the night before. Knowing he would eventually see her smile again made a world of difference. It may be selfish of him to be glad Mavis wasn't dead, not to mention plan on reviving her, but he was. He'd been alone long enough, and he would hold her to her promise.

Consulting the map in his head of the western continent Alakitasia and the nation of Fiore, Zeref sorted through alternating routes of travelling to his country. He'd never been in any particular hurry to reach it, but this unexpected turn of events validated a shortcut. He would go through the valley of Mount Hakobe and skirt around the town of Shirotsume before continuing the journey on foot, then he would cross the ocean aboard a lone ship. Once he reached the shores of Alakitasia, transportation would become exponentially easier. All things considered the journey wouldn't take more than a year, according to Zeref's plan. Of course, he wasn't planning on surprises.

...

Zeref stood in front of a lake somewhere between Magnolia and Mount Hakobe, anticipating his first bath in days. He abhorred uncleanliness and made a habit of bathing whenever he had access to a body of water, but the past few days had been an exception because of Mavis. He wouldn't feel quite right taking a bath if he didn't give her one as well, and the only problem with that was that the concept of undressing and washing her unsettled him.

She was unconscious, and he had a feeling that were she awake she'd tell him to go right ahead in her kind but embarrassedly practical manner, yet he still had reservations about the matter. Sighing, he set her down on the bank and checked the back of her dress for an opening. Finding none, he easily ripped it open down the front and tugged the dirty fabric away from her arms, averting his face from her body politely. There was nothing polite about the next part, however. Nonetheless, he reasoned he could be businesslike about it.

Stripping down, he folded his robes neatly and placed them on the banks of the lake. Turning to Mavis, he lifted her carefully, ignoring the expanse of smooth warm skin against his, and waded into the bracing coolness of the lake. Once he was chest-deep, Mavis's weight was inconsequential due to the buoyancy of the water, and he was able to loosen his grasp on her a little. Her hair, darkened by the water, trailed and floated aesthetically around them. Curious as to how it felt underwater, Zeref sifted his fingers through a lock and was pleasantly surprised by its silky texture.

Clearing his throat, he supported her thighs with one arm and used the other to dip her scalp back and into the frigid water. Remembering her love of warmth, he cringed a little as he submersed her head and body, ensuring her face stayed above the surface level. As he glanced down her body, a pastel flash of color caught his eye, drawing his gaze to a mark on her lower body despite its location over her right hip bone. It appeared to be a bird of some kind, etched onto her pale skin in a yellow only a few shades darker, the pattern almost difficult to make out. Her guild mark, he deduced, and traced the color with his fingertips. It was hard not to let his eyes roam over her lithe body and settle at the soft thatch of soft blond curls between her thighs, but his self-control was exceptional and he forced his gaze from temptation.

Re-dipping and massaging her scalp, he reflected that the swim would be much more enjoyable if Mavis were awake. Steering his errant imagination away from that variety of thought, which he'd hoped would be prevented by the temperature of the lake, he rinsed her hair and moved on to her petite body. Running his hands over her until he was satisfied she was clean—all the while ignoring his own insatiable anatomy—he then maintained a hold of his charge as he dunked his head and shoulders under the cold water in a faster version of his usual routine.

In a few minutes Zeref was wading to the shore again with Mavis's naked body in his arms. Her face was still a serene mask, unchanging despite whatever could be happening around her. He hoped her dreams were peaceful. Eyeing the garment he'd torn off of her distastefully, he began thoroughly wringing out her long hair in the weak sunlight. Which, he quickly discovered, was no easy task whatsoever. How did one live with hair this length? He did think it was pretty, though.

Persisting patiently, he completed the task and reached for his folded toga. Shaking out the rectangular piece of cotton and laying it on the ground, he lifted Mavis and arranged her on it. After a few minutes he'd fashioned a makeshift dress for her, having ripped the edges into two strips and tying them over her torso in the front, leaving her arms and shoulders bare but her chest and the rest of her somewhat covered. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

Feeling quite refreshed after the rinse, with his skin tingling pleasantly from the invigorating temperature of the water, Zeref resumed his journey throughout the afternoon. As the sun began sinking below the horizon, he crossed a field and continued into the woods to find a resting place for the night. Deciding the base of a tree was as good as any, he sat down tiredly and ignored the new foliage withering around him, happy that at least there were no animals to get killed as most of them had migrated south for the winter. He corrected himself as a buzzard fell from the sky to join the dead leaves covering the forest floor.

Turning his attention from the dismal sight to the person lying across his lap, he watched the sun's dying rays streak through the dead trees and wondered what Mavis would have said about its beauty. He blinked tiredly, barely able to stay awake as he recalled that he hadn't slept since the morning he first woke with Mavis. Lying down and laying her body a respectful foot away from him, he dozed off.

In the middle of the night, he stirred fitfully, lost to dreams of the past, both distant and recent. In his dream Natsu was two again, playing on their mother's lap...then suddenly he was dead, a lifeless little body Zeref cried over as a child. He was helpless to do anything as he saw himself joining the Mildian Magic Academy. All the corpses of those he'd killed, including his elderly teacher, rose up to shamble towards him with horrified looks on their faces. Then he saw Mavis among them, reaching out to him pleadingly.

Waking with a start, he reached for her in the darkness and encountered empty space. Rolling over quickly, his heightened senses registered noises of something in the dark, which he identified as retreating footsteps. Though it was hard to see in the pale starlight, the outline of some sort of beast was visible, its retreating form barely silhouetted. Reacting without conscious thought, unaware that his irises had turned crimson, Zeref used offensive magic for the first time in decades to emit a concentrated wave of pure death.

The animal fell dead in its tracks, its body withering in death along with the trees in the radius of the Black Wizard's attack. Walking over to what remained on the ground, he picked up Mavis's body and tried to return to his former resting place, though he gave up on finding it due to the lack of trees marking the spot. Lying down beneath the clear night sky, he curled his body protectively around her this time, pulling her back into his chest and smelling her hair. Somehow she'd still kept her scent, and along with her faint magical aura it soothed his pounding heart until he was able to sleep again. And this time, his dreams were untroubled as he rested in her sunshiny presence.

It wasn't until late the next day that he chided himself for his impetuous use of magic. Not only did it break a personal rule, but he'd lost his calm and hadn't taken into mind the possibility that it might harm Mavis. In theory she was immortal, but Zeref was superstitious by experience and didn't wish to press his luck. Acting before he thought was a mistake he couldn't afford to make; not again.

He was in a foul mood, ambivalence settling on disgruntlement after the relatively extreme high, low, and high he'd experienced inside of one week. While he walked, the wheels of his brain turned in an age-old rhythm as he ruminated over various ideas and fears. He didn't possess enough information to properly deal with the situation at hand. His arms clenched a little around Mavis's body absentmindedly as he looked down at her. He envied her right now, dead to the world and its problems. In a blissful state of eternal rest... Not eternal, he reminded his depressive mind. He would find a way to revive her. The winter sun slitted through the boughs of unscathed trees, mocking him with beauty he couldn't appreciate.

If Mavis were here, if he could talk to her, look into her eyes again...perhaps know that she'd forgiven him for what he'd done to her, then the weight on his chest would be somewhat lifted. What they'd thought was in their grasp had turned out to be false hope, as evidenced by the limp body in his arms. Was her mind still cognizant, trapped inside the prison that was her physical body? Would she have accepted him if she knew it would mean this fate?

Two annoying teardrops left a path down his face as his heart seemed to grow heavier in his chest. Yet another burden for him to bear, alone. He thought he sensed her presence again and faltered a little, before acknowledging it was his imagination once more. He really was losing his mind, unless...it wasn't in his head. He considered the possibility, concluding that because she was unconscious, and her life force was completely drained, the vague presence he thought he sensed could possibly be her magic power. The explanation still wasn't satisfactory, but he let the matter drop. There were more important things to worry about.

A/N: In the canon, Zeref thought Mavis was dead—treating her body as an object when he dumped her in front of Precht, saying she would never wake up and speaking of her in the past tense. However, Mavis was officially undead; she said that during the thirty years Precht attempted to revive her, she was in a state of suspended animation, "neither living nor truly dead." Because you cannot resurrect someone who isn't deceased, Precht's efforts didn't revive her; they created Fairy Heart. Had Zeref known that Mavis wasn't dead, I highly doubt he would've abandoned her to her friends, don't you?

The reason he isn't acknowledging Mavis's presence like he did in the canon is because he doubts his sanity and also doesn't hear her voice. Let me know what you think by leaving a review. Good story? Boring one? Whatever your opinion may be, thank you for reading and following.