A/N: This isn't a new chapter, I just messed up when I was trying to update the old one and deleted it (sorry!). However, I have added and changed some things here so there's not harm in always rereading! COVID-19 has caused my Uni to close and has given me free time to work on this story, so I am updating some chapters here and there and have a couple of new chapters to post. Expect to see one within the next day or two. And brace yourself. Because it's about to get REAL heavy (if you know what episode comes after the Ball episode you know what is about to happen with a certain character) and then it's gonna get light and fluffy for a chapter or two before it gets even HEAVIER (Tartaros arc here I COME lmao). I hope everyone is staying safe and well during this time! (And as a side note, has anyone played Fire Emblem: Three Houses on the switch? Because I just finished playing it on the Blue Lions route and timeskip Dimitri is just... wow! Obviously I have a thing for strong blonde nutcases lol.) Anyway enjoy!

"The sun inside of him / rages like wildfire / and he is / gold / gold / gold."

The metal hit the swell of my throat and sent a slithering shiver down my spine, making me flinch. With a soft click, the clasp locked against the column of my neck, and I raised a tentative hand to the choker—two uniform rows of delicate diamonds encircling my throat like a dignified noose. I swallowed.

"Turn for me."

I obeyed the command and spun around to face the voice. Ultear's eyes crinkled when she saw me, and I smiled back tentatively.

"You look stunning," she said, raising an arthritic hand to brush back a strand of hair from my cheek. I leaned into the touch, my heart aching.

"I wish you could come."

She chuckled. "Look at me, Lex. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"I know…"

She was right, of course, Ultear's limbs had grown even more gnarled since we last saw her. Her hair was now a stark white, and her skin sagged from her bones like taffy, seeming only seconds away from sloughing off entirely. She was on the brink of death, I could see it in her stature, in her eyes. She braced herself for it with every step.

"I could stay, you know."

She pulled away from me. "What—"

"I could. Meredy could always go to the ball, but I could stay here with you. I wouldn't be missing much, and I'd be here to keep you company. I hate to see you all alone."

"Alexandria, no," Ultear snapped, and her tone was so unforgiving, so final, that I knew there would be no argument.

"It was just a thought…"

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with two wrinkled fingers. "You don't need to worry about me so much, Lex."

"But…"

"But what?" She demanded. "I'm going to die. Don't flinch like that. I am. I knew this was coming from the moment I cast that spell. I'm just thankful I've been given time to say my goodbyes. But I'm not going to let you live the rest of your life wondering 'what if' and wallowing in misery. This isn't your fault."

I stared at her, my eyes brimming with tears I didn't know I had. It was so shocking to hear her speak so bluntly. In all the time we'd been together since she had cast Arc of Time, she'd never confronted her imminent death directly. Yet there she was, as proud and as bold as ever, facing her death with unflinching resolve.

"Don't talk like that, Ul."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Go to that party. Fall in love. Live your life. Be happy, Lex, for once. I'll be fine. I promise."

Her lie was little reassurance; we both knew as much. Yet still I wrapped it in my heart and took it with me as I left.

Upon setting foot inside of the palace, I decided, at once, that I would take advantage of my surroundings. In that moment, I shed my past like a snakeskin, slithering into a new body, one that belonged in courts and diamonds and pretty dresses—not an orphan, not someone grieving the imminent loss of her sister, and certainly not a battle-hardened warrior.

I was there to have fun; I was there to break hearts; I was there to claim my title of victor in the Grand Magic Games. And, most pressingly, I was there to get a drink. After everything I'd been through, gods knew I was in desperate need of some lighthearted refreshments.

Meredy cast me a sideways glance as we entered, and I offered my best smile. "You ready?" She asked. I nodded again, and so we entered.

One step after another.

I rocked as I descended the grand staircase. One. Two. One, two. My body swayed as we entered, hips rocking beneath my dress, feet rising and falling as I moved with as much grace as I could muster in heels. I took lilting steps into the marble ballroom, careful to take it all in.

Certainly, the palace was fit for a king. The ballroom on its own could easily fit two or three houses the size of my own home. Sweeping ivory walls decorated in swirling golden motifs stretched upward to a vaulted ceiling covered with vibrant frescos. My eyes were immediately drawn to one exquisite portrait depicting a myriad of robed cherubs and naked, rosy-cheeked gods. I took it in with an awe-filled breath.

The floors were spotless, gleaming stretches of marble, arranged in different colors and geometric patterns that only added to the opulence of the room. My shoes made a pleasant, echoing sound as they struck the floor, and suddenly the idea of dancing didn't sound so unbearable anymore.

I scanned the massive room and took in the variety of guests. Many were off to the sides, eating and talking beside tables laden with food. A few daring souls were warming up on the dance floor to a lighthearted sonata, spinning in and out of each other's' arms with the skill of an athlete. Closest to me, a contingent of non-mage diplomats chatted aimlessly. I slipped past them and noticed a familiar set of faces a few tables away.

Lucy greeted me with a dazzling smile, and I beamed back, my mouth opening in praise; "My friend, you are a vision."

She blushed coyly and laughed. "I could say the same to you, Xandria," she inclined her head towards my companion, "And you must be Meredy."

"Yes, it's wonderful to finally meet you!" Meredy blurted, and my lips pulled into an indulgent smile.

Lucy tilted her head. "You know, when Xandria told me she had a little sister I wasn't expecting you to be so pretty and grown up."

We laughed and Meredy began to asking Lucy about what it was like to be a celestial mage. I accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and sipped it as I scanned the ballroom. The Sabertooth mages mingled nearby, and I saw many of my fellow guildmates exchanging stories with others.

"-ello? Xandria?"

"Hmm?" I looked up, pulled from my thoughts.

"I asked if you though your magic had anything in common with celestial mages like Lucy," Meredy said, frowning, which elicited a laugh from Lucy.

The blond mage shook her head and addressed Meredy in a conspiratorial fashion, "Of course Xandria couldn't hear. She's too focused on searching for her long-lost lover. He's here somewhere; don't worry. I saw him arrive earlier with Jura, of all people."

I folded my arms. "Excuse me?"

"Laxus, of course," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I scowled. "Laxus and I are not 'long-lost lovers,' Lucy."

"Ooh, Laxus," Meredy chimed in, giggling. "I remember him. Tall, handsome, grumpy, awkward. He had quite the nice physique, if I do recall…"

"Meredy!"

Lucy nodded in solemn agreement. "He does have a rather shapely behind."

"If you two like him so much, then you can keep him for yourselves," I quipped. "I, for one, was looking for Evergreen and couldn't care less about wherever Blondie is tonight."

"Blondie? Oh, Lex, that's so cute," Meredy bubbled, then turned to Lucy. "She's got a nickname for him and all."

"I do not."

Lucy smirked. "Oh, yeah, not like you call him Blondie, or Sparky, or—"

"That's it!" I snapped. "I'm done listening to you two and your childish theories. I'm going to find some less ridiculous company."

And with these words I strode away from the group, steaming slightly, but nonetheless warmed by their presence. Having thoroughly extracted myself from familiar company, I made my way to the edge of the room, pleased, certainly, by the thought of being alone.

In my pilgrimage, however, I was distracted by a marble bust almost haphazardly decorating a side table, and I was at once taken aback by its craftsmanship. The features were incredible and life-like. Perhaps the eyes betrayed the unconscious state of the medium, but nothing else would have implied lifelessness. My fingers rose to touch the face, curious as I was to discern how one might craft such soft, rounded features from nothing but solid rock. The stone was cold and hard to the touch.

"Admiring the décor?"

The sound startled me, and I flinched away from the bust upon the comment, feeling almost scolded. When I turned to meet the guest, I was surprised to find a face I'd never come across before. He was about average height, with raven black hair and murky eyes the color of the cattails I'd often seen growing around marshy land and swamps.

He spoke again, "I'm more of a mixed-media person, myself, but I must admit these sculptures are handsome."

"It is impressive," I answered, my voice guarded, "that an artist was capable of carving tousled hair from stone."

He chuckled, his eyes flashing at me as he did, "If you think this is impressive, you ought to see the statues we have in the gallery. True skill, I think, is reflected when the sculptor is capable of capturing the gentle, fluid motion of cloth."

The idea sounded gratifying to me, but I could not help but hesitate. Something about him made me pull away. He was tolerable enough, I supposed, but not story-book handsome or the sort of man that could get away with being physically inferior for the sake of his mind. I tilted my head, trying not to frown.

"Excuse me," I said, with as much diplomacy as I could muster, "but I'm afraid we haven't met."

Again, he laughed, but this time he extended a hand. "Faust Boese—I myself am a Duke in the King of Fiore's Court. You, of course, are the famed Alexandria Douglais, witch of Fairy Tail and victor of these Grand Magic Games."

Tell me something I don't know.

My lips quirked. "Am I to think I have found myself an admirer?"

"In his truest form," my companion admitted, offering a slight bow, which came across just as stiff and overly chivalrous as one might imagine. "I must admit, I have encountered many wizards and witches in my time, but few have garnered my interest quite like you."

I glanced at him, put-off by his line and uninterested in his character. I frowned.

"Flattery, sir, can get you many places, but I am afraid it cannot fool this witch nor can it buy me drinks," I announced.

The Duke blinked. "You… are certainly toward."

"No, sir, I simply know how politicians work, and I have little time and much less patience to play such games on a night like tonight. If you were as acquainted with me as you already professed, you ought to have known as much. Now, if you'll excuse me."

I walked past him, somewhat disturbed, and weaved my way through the throng of people that had amassed in the ballroom. Mages and diplomats and gentry from far and wide had congregated in the grand space, and among the foreign faces I was able to discern a few familiar to me.

"Lex! Oh here take this!"

I turned my head, finding Meredy beaming at me from her position beside none other than Juvia Lockhart. She placed a matching flute of champagne in my hand as I approached her, and I smiled appreciatively as I took a sip.

"You'll never believe what Juvia here was telling me about your guildmates! Did you really slay a dragon in front of all those people? I never would've believed that—"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "It was a mechanical dragon, Meredy, nothing like a real—"

Juvia interjected, "Don't you remember how handsome Gray looked that night, all stormy and rugged and—"

"Ready to kill an entire town of people?" I replied. "Yes, Juvia, I do seem to have a similar recollection of that event now that you mention it."

"Oh, come on Lex, don't give her such a hard time," Meredy said. "Everyone emerged relatively unscathed, so I don't see the point in bringing up old grudges."

I scowled at her, ready to present her with an ire-filled recountal of all the injuries that occurred that night, but we were interrupted by the sound of shouting nearby. No sooner had I registered the noise than two ice mages materialized before us, each playing foil to the other.

"Gray, my love!" Juvia exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes. Speak of the devil…

"Oy, leave me alone, woman!"

"Why is it Gray," I asked, "that you must show up everywhere angry and shirtless and looking for a fight?"

"Always a pleasure to see you too, Xandria," he retorted, shooting me a wry look, and then turned to his white-haired companion, who had an odd expression across his face. "I suppose introductions are in order. Lyon, this is Meredy, Xandria's adopted sister and mage from Crime Soirciere, and Meredy, this is Lyon, an ice mage from Lamia Scale."

And in that very moment there was a pause in time—a slight hesitation that rippled across the fabric of the very universe as I knew it. I remember it vividly even now, the way his eyes cascaded over Meredy's face, her figure—inextricably tangling in the curls of her hair. There was shift in Lyon's psyche as beheld Meredy—a shift in Meredy's psyche as she beheld Lyon—and I knew at once with all the certainty of truth that the two of them would be connected in some way, if not by love or friendship then by lust or some other kind of longing.

Meredy's cheeks warmed as she took him in, and I witnessed as her glowing façade melted away any chill from the ice mage.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Lyon," she gushed, and he smiled.

"The pleasure is all mine, m'lady," he returned, and I fought to suppress a laugh at his stiff formality. He continued,"Truly you are more dazzling than all the tales could have prepared me for." The tales? What tales? I rolled my eyes at his brazen attempt at flattery. Meredy, of course, was adoring all the attention, and she bought every word that rolled off his lips. I knew better than to trust in saccharine words and careless praise.

Watching Meredy indulge herself in his romantic language only made me uneasy, so I excused myself and wandered into the heart of the festivities as I finished my glass of champagne. I was minding my own business, truly. Looking for food—for another drink. I was certainly not looking for anyone in particular, looking for trouble, looking to lose myself that night.

But it was hard not to find him.

He was there, somehow, despite his protests. Whether Makarov or Evergreen or Freed or the interference of the gods themselves had convinced him to come I knew not, but nonetheless he was there in the flesh, mere yards across from me in the grand hall.

Indeed, I was certain by then that I could instinctively pick out the very presence of Laxus within a room before I could definitively see his person. And on that night, both were unmistakable and impossible to miss. He was there—just across the room. Arrogant. Imposing. Suave.

Handsome.

I inhaled sharply. Despite my efforts to diminish him—to deride and defeat him in my mind—I could not make him any less than what he was. And what he was, was ethereal.

His beauty was untouchable. Timeless. Without blemish. It blossomed from somewhere within him and radiated outwards in a robust eruption of light. He descended down to earth like a condescending god, deigning to dine and dance with mere mortals before returning to his helm of judgement.

And by the gods I hated him for it.

He was surrounded on all sides by an adoring pack of females—women scantily clad in a thin, revealing array of what I could only suppose were meant to be dresses. I could practically hear their mewling even from across the room. 'Oh Laxus, Laxus you're so handsome, Laxus you're so strong, Laxus please take me.' Something deep within my abdomen tightened, whether from jealousy or desire or irrationality or heartache or mere heartburn I knew not. But I knew for a fact that I was angry and too proud to let him know I wanted him to myself.

It's the champagne speaking, Xandria. You're vulnerable now too, with everything happening with Ul. This too shall pass—a momentary delusion.

Distract him, distract yourself, Xandria. Let this thing—whatever it is—leave your heart and rot where you leave it behind.

I snagged down the first man that passed me by. It was not challenging. I was a well-known victor and an at least modestly attractive human to boot. All it took was me batting my eyes and giggling to make him feel wanted, and with that we were dancing together.

The music was still classical and stiff, but I knew how to waltz and how to do so relatively well. Hades had made sure all of Grimoire Heart's elite knew how to navigate the politics of a king's court, which included its dances. The man, for his credit, was not a terrible dancer himself, and so I guided the two of us to the middle of the floor, close enough to the Thunder Legion without, I thought, letting my motive seem blatantly obvious.

I felt his eyes on me before I gave him the satisfaction of meeting mine. A weight—hot and heavy on my back—followed me through every practiced step, every careful turn, refusing to be ignored. Something deep inside of me curled up in satisfaction, knowing that I'd won some petty little victory in whatever game it was Laxus and I always played. Another part of me felt almost hollow with… could that have been guilt? No, certainly not. Why would I feel guilt? What was there to be ashamed of but my sheer capacity for success? No, I wasn't guilty. Not for Laxus Dreyar. Not for anyone.

~Laxus' POV~

She knew I was watching her. It was never hard to tell. I could see it in the way she stiffened and inclined her head, lifting her frame up in a practiced front of pride. I could see it in her movements, the way she inched closer with every calculated step. And most importantly I could see it in her eyes when they finally met mine—mirthful and mocking and sparkling with life. Her heart said what her mouth could not, and finally, when the song ended and she dismissed her partner to approach me, her heart appeared to be filled with arrogant taunting.

She sauntered over, as she did, as she does. Hips swaying, eyes flashing, lips curled in a characteristic smirk. One of the women at my side said something to me, but it fell deaf upon my ears. There was a shift amongst them as Alexandria arrived; these women were afraid. A new threat had arrived. And threatening she was.

She was striking in a terrible and magnificent way with all these guards of hers up—every defense carefully raised and fortified. How many women had I witnessed do the same all the years through? Raising this guise of disinterest to protect themselves? Alexandria was no different. Yet she had perfected her art. Honed herself to a fine point, strong enough to disarm, sharp enough to kill.

But I had honed myself too, labored hard and long against her attacks to make of myself a shield.

A shield against what? What are you avoiding, Laxus?

I thought of her hands, cleaning the dirt and grime from my face just the day before. I thought of the sorrow—the feeling—that filled her eyes as I told her of the bodies I found lying in the rubble. The way she touched my shoulder and the comfortable, quiet companionship that followed. There was a tenderness within her I had not yet known, and that afternoon perhaps I had taken the first glimpse into the ocean of her heart.

I looked at her again, dancing with a stranger, throwing me those arrogant, mocking looks.

Don't be ridiculous. As if she would ever feel something for you.

That was right. Let her dance with as many men as she pleased. It's not like I would've cared. She couldn't hurt me.

~Xandria's POV~

He leveled me with a glare as I approached, clearly on edge. I smirked, ready and waiting for a fight.

"Hello, Blondie, you seem to be enjoying yourself tonight," I said, the words laced with as much fire as I could muster. He didn't flinch.

"I could say the same to you," He grunted. "You seem to have been doing quite well finding partners to dance with tonight. So much for you hating other people."

I scowled at him; "Our guild has many admirers on this night, a fact you have obviously been experiencing firsthand," I motioned to the women remaining at his sides.

"You act as though I've had a say in this," he returned, and I regarded him carefully as I responded.

"Surely you have some control over your company," I snapped, folding my arms, and he laughed. Actually laughed at me.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help the fact that I'm so popular with the ladies," he said with a smirk, "Certainly being a woman yourself, you can understand their fascination with me."

I could tell he was just jerking my chain and trying to goad some sort of reaction out of me, but still I scoffed indignantly and felt my cheeks warm as I responded. "Funny you've got all this attention but still haven't managed to dance with anyone yet. You too scared to ask?" My comment was meant to mock and perhaps emasculate him, but I realized too late that it seemed to have the opposite effect.

He quirked a brow, "Your impeccable skills of observation continue to serve you well." I frowned at his illusive response, and a beat passed, in which his lips then quirked upward in a disarming grin. "Perhaps, Alexandria, I've been waiting for the right partner to come along."

I would never admit it, but my heart skipped a beat as I replied, "Well, I'm here now, Blondie, so what are you waiting for?"

His eyes flashed with the intensity of the sun, and at once we were moving together as one.

The orchestra shifted, picking up the pace of the music as he took me in his arms, and suddenly I could feel the same electricity that pulsed through his veins rushing through mine. I had a quick retort at the ready—something mocking him for his eagerness—but I failed to verbalize it. My mind was spinning, and all I could focus on instead was the presence of the man leading me in his arms. He looked like conquest and glory, a fallen emperor whose name would never be forgotten—slipping past lips in faltering, foreign tongues and continuing ceaselessly into the vast expanse of time. Perhaps it was the champagne glossing my senses, but Laxus Dreyar stood before me in all his glory, beautiful and breathtaking and bright as a star. He took the first step, which I matched with ease. And then another. And another.

The classical orchestra left and, upon the arrival of dessert, was replaced by a band. We danced to that too.

The song was of the swinging, jazzy variety, demanding that dancers spin themselves about the ballroom to the rhythmic beat, increasing their intensity with each crescendo and every bold riff coaxed forth from the bellows of the piano. A man sang to the tune, his voice rich and brassy, crooning to the beat of the music. Around and around and around we went, Laxus guiding my feet with each powerful stride of his own.

Laxus was, to my surprise, an excellent dancer, spinning me in and out of his arms with ease and gracefully taking the lead with practiced dexterity. We flowed like water across the marble floors.

Laxus spoke once, in a rush, "Hold on."

I glanced at him, and his hands settled on my hips, grasping them firmly before he vaulted me over his head and into the air, where I laughed in both terror and delight. I crashed back down to earth, my heart racing from exertion and something more. Laxus pulled me close in his arms and we both laughed, laughed, laughed. Several nearby couples stared at us, confusion and alarm written across their features, and I beamed a little more at their expense. Laxus and I were not the most graceful, by any means, but we were having the most fun.

We flowed through the night, me and him, he and I, throwing our heads back and dancing until our feet throbbed and our hearts ached and our chests were tight from laughter. All my animosity fell flat in the face of his genuine spirit, and for once, I had no snide comments to make.

For once I truly felt… happy.

There came a point in our dancing when it became clear that we needed a break. The grand hall was becoming quite crowded, and the room had warmed from all the merrymakers moving and dancing within it.

I was panting from exertion when I looked at my partner and huffed out, "I need a break."

Laxus and I stood sweaty, breathless, and rosy with color on the edge of the dance floor. I wanted his hands on my hips again, his strong arms around my body, deft fingers grazing the surface of my skin, touching me, holding me, tracing my shape like a sculptor beholding his muse. All of these thoughts occurred to me in a flash of unexpected self-awareness, and as I glanced at my partner, I felt my stomach somersault and my cheeks burn at the physical response he had elicited from me. I stumbled backward, both wanting and hating to separate myself from him. How did this happen?

He released a light, breathless laugh, "How about some fresh air?"

"Oh, thank the gods that sounds delightful."

Laxus glanced at me and took my hand with all the suave nonchalance in the world, and at once we were moving from the grand hall, away into mystery. I followed him, my brain clouded, my heart pounding, my body trembling from excitement and exertion. I wondered, suddenly, if my palms were sweaty and if that would somehow disgust Laxus, and then I wondered why it suddenly mattered to me what he thought. What was happening to me?

He pulled us through an arch and at once we were in an entirely new universe, trading in the opulent ornament of the palace for the much more subtle but no less beautiful adornment of nature.

We stood in the garden, my heart racing, unable to believe where I was, what I was doing, who I was doing it with. I glanced down, at our hands interlocked, twining together as one.

And then, like a fool, I glanced at him, at the tousled curls of blond hair that were hanging down on his forehead from all the sweat, at the shine of perspiration that added a lovely glow to his complexion, highlighted by the moonlight.

He was watching me too, and the expression he held within his eyes was like enough to burn me from the inside out with its intensity. Looking at him made my lips slip apart as if in awe of a god. Laxus didn't belong there, not in that city, not in our guild, and certainly not with me. He was the stuff of myths—of legends. Something belonging not to this earth or to the people within it.

We stood there like that, still hand in hand, speechless, my heart humming with something I couldn't name and that I would undoubtedly regret in the morning.

He took a step forward, his sure hand sliding smoothly across the surface of my cheek in a caress. My breath hitched, and I felt every cell that made up my body coil up in anticipation. I glanced down, afraid of meeting his eyes, afraid of what might happen next.

"Alexandria…"

I ran my hands over the front of his suit, finding the striking solid gold silk of his lapels and caressing it softly. His presence was electrifying, as it always was, yet somehow magnified by the splendor of his raiment and the magnificence of the night.

I looked up, and upon meeting his eyes I was sure that I was burning alive. His gaze faltered, falling lower, examining some other part of my face. I could feel his breath on me as he inhaled again, practically shaking.

"Alexandria, I…"

"YOU!" We were interrupted by the sound of a sudden, booming voice sounding from our right. I stumbled backwards, lame and disoriented like a lamb. "You are the grandson of the guildmaster of Fairy Tail, yes?"

The cold air hit my face like a slap.

Laxus turned on the man, ready to throttle him. I watched as he fought for composure, finally gritting out an infuriated, "Yes? Is there a problem?" in the other man's direction. The attendant, for what it was worth, did not shy away from Laxus' anger, but instead casted an uncertain glance in my direction. Laxus seemed even more inflamed by this action, as if remembering what had almost transpired only seconds before, and barked out a sharp, "What's your problem, buddy?"

"No, sir, no problem!" the man stammered. "I was sent by your grandfather because there seems to be a commotion in the castle, something to do with one of your mages; a boy who has pink hair? I was instructed to come find you and bring you back."

Laxus groaned, obviously irritated by what he no doubt saw as Natsu ruining yet another aspect of his life. But he still stood, irritated yet loyal to his core.

He turned to me, his gaze locking earnestly with mine. "I'll be right back, alright?"

I stared at him, "Alright," I said, although it felt almost thought someone else was saying it for me.

And like that he was gone.

I stood there alone with my thoughts, the attendant having trailed after Laxus into the grand hall. My head spun with the events of the night, shocked by Laxus' behavior, shocked by my own—shocked, in a more general sense, by the unexpected state of my heart. What would have transpired if the employee from the palace had failed to show up?

Sitting down on the edge of one of the garden's nearby fountains, I turned over all these things in my mind. Absentmindedly, I found myself tracing over the lines in the palm of my hand, remembering the lingering feeling of his touch there.

Fighting with Laxus was easy—arguing with him a mere game. But this? This was new territory. This was dangerous.

I sat there and drove myself out of my mind with all my thinking. What could this mean? Would things be different now? Was I mad? Nothing had happened, certainly, but could we have, would we have… have kissed? Was I imagining things? No, surely the look in his face as he stared into me was real. But Laxus and I had always despised each other, fought like the bitterest of rivals, scraped against each other's wounds. I sighed.

Only a few minutes had passed when Laxus returned—sooner than I expected and with a pair of drinks in his hands. I found this odd and remarked on it as soon as I found the strength to speak to him, my cheeks still burning as I remembered the moment we'd shared only minutes before.

"What's with the refreshments?" I asked. Indeed, it was strange that he'd brought two very sweet, very fruity drinks back with him. Laxus preferred his alcohol dark and strong enough to strip paint off the walls or the clothes off one's body. He never opted for sweet mixers.

He shrugged. "I said I was going to get drinks, didn't I? Obviously, I had to keep that promise sweetheart." I frowned at his words, but I took the proffered drink from his hand. He hadn't said anything about drinks when he left so flustered earlier, but perhaps I was so caught up in my own head that I'd failed to catch him saying as much. It was certainly a possibility. And Laxus was always weird all the time, so I knew better than expect him to be any less different on this night than any others. Perhaps this was his way of ignoring what had happened, communicating to me that we were never to speak of what had transpired between us again?

I took a long, thoughtful draught of the drink as I mulled over this, which was remarkably sweet and syrupy as it slid down my throat. I almost gagged at the taste, but after taking several sips it was bearable, even halfway decent despite my preference for more bitter or mellowed spirits. Laxus looked at me with those sharp eyes of his as I drank, and I offered him a smile, like the idiot I was. My inhibitions were lowering—perhaps this wasn't so bad after all. Maybe Laxus was suddenly opening himself up to me, albeit in a strange way.

"What's with that goofy look on your face, Blondie?" I asked, and he shook himself, giving a light squeaky laugh.

"Oh nothing, I was just enamored by your beauty. The usual."

I hesitated, trying to tell if he was being sarcastic. Certainly, that wasn't the usual, but maybe Laxus was just trying to be funny? I took another drag on my drink.

"You're acting strangely, Blondie," I said, giggling. How odd that I was giggling! I hadn't done that in an age. "What's gotten into you?"

"Maybe I've just realized how lucky I am to have a wonderful, incredible, amazing woman in my life!" He blurted and placed his hand on my thigh. I glanced down at this gesture, my vision spinning in the corners of my eyes, and realized, perhaps, that I shouldn't have had so much to drink. But it was strange to me; alcohol rarely affected me so much. Was this the result of my close encounter with him earlier? Surely hormones couldn't have this effect on a woman? And this wasn't pleasant, like before…

I looked back up at my companion, who wore a very juvenile, un-Laxus-like expression on his face. I tilted my head, squinting at a face that strangely didn't quite seem to match the one I had become so accustomed to gazing upon.

Suddenly, he leaned forward toward me, and before I knew what was happening Laxus had smushed his lips against my face, which floundered against mine. Suddenly I was aware that he did not smell like himself at all. The comforting male scent of earth and pheromones and spice was gone and replaced by something foreign and tangy. I curled up my nose. When I had imagined kissing Laxus in the past it had never gone anything like this.

Something was wrong. Something was gloriously wrong with the situation, and as I slowly came to this realization an explosive, earth-shaking, hair-raising eruption of thunder sounded from mere steps away. I clumsily wrenched myself away from the person that was attacking my face.

And there, standing opposite me in the garden, was Laxus, in all his terrible and magnificent glory—eyes flashing, teeth gnashing, and hair standing straight on end—the air around him sizzling with electricity. Another peal of thunder tore through the air, fit to split the earth in two.

I frowned in confusion "Laxus? What…?"

"What the fuck, Alexandria?!"

I turned back to look at the man beside me, who now no longer looked so much like my guildmate after all. My brow knitted in confusion, and suddenly it occurred to me what had happened. I stood up abruptly, but my motor control was all but gone, so I stumbled backward onto the ground behind me.

"L-Laxus," I blurted, struggling to form coherent strings of words. Laxus looked at me in confusion and concern, suddenly aware something was wrong with me, and I gasped out, "tricked me."

Laxus turned on the man at my side, who I now realized was the same Duke I had encountered earlier at the party. The intruder placed his hands up in defense.

"It's not what it looks like I—I can explain—"

"Save it shitface!"

I whimpered from my place on the ground, confused, disoriented, and hurt.

Laxus rounded on me, his brow knitted in anger and concern, "Alexandria tell me right now; what did he do to you? How did—"

"Drugs. My drink," I faltered, forming a conclusion despite my sudden awareness of the substance running through my veins. "Must have. Used an Illusion. Too." It wasn't the alcohol that had affected me so dramatically after all. "H-help me, Laxus."

Laxus was ignited further by the words. And I'm sure I'd never seen him so enraged as then. Every muscle in his body was pulled taut, trembling with anger, his face almost psychotic with rage. An electric, yellow-tinged aura surrounded him, his magic seeping out as he slipped further and further from sanity. Even his hands—once clenched fists ready for a fight—were now hook-nailed talons, armored with thick yellow scales like a bloodthirsty dragon's.

"I'll kill you!" He bellowed, and the man across from him cowered at the sight. Even I was scared. This was not the coy, annoyed, sarcastic, bitter, but generally harmless Laxus I was used to. This was something else, and if I didn't do something, only the gods knew what would happen next.

"Laxus!" I exclaimed. "Please no! No trouble. Not worth it. Please."

He looked down at me, as if pulled from a spell, and I watched as he softened upon meeting my gaze.

"Guards!" he shouted, and the last thing I could recall was him scooping me up as I blacked out.

The rest of the night comes back to me in shadowed bursts of memory that belong outside the bounds of time. I remember being carried somewhere by a pair of strong arms, the familiar smell of earth and spice and rugged man filling my senses and comforting me. I remember voices talking, lights flashing, angry shouting. I remember the sudden chill of the night, followed by soft and safe security that came from being settled down and tucked like a child into bed. And I remember him watching over me in concern before caressing my forehead and leaving my side.

He lowered his lips to her sleeping form and carefully, oh so carefully, placed a kiss to her forehead. She twitched a little at the gesture, and for a moment his breath caught in his throat. But within seconds she relaxed, and he pressed one parting hand to her temple as he took his leave.

His voice was hoarse and hollow and dry when he said it, but Alexandria awoke the next morning with a foggy recollection of the strangest dream in which Laxus Dreyar had said that he loved her.