So I got super depressed last night when I was violently reminded that Miraxus was more Canon or is supposedly cannon? Yeah I know this is a crack ship but man it's totally ruined my day so I need LaLu guys this is like ASAP so I wrote this trying to forget this fact. If anyone's got good fan art leave me links of LaLu... It's needed.
OK so my writing style has been changed quite a bit for this. Tried going for hard boiled detective novel here. Lucy may seem a bit OC and so may all the characters because of that. I feel like Fairy Tail is more light hearted but does do deep dark shit. But because of I'm trying to do a different writing style here things may seem OC trying to keep it all true to character though!
The city that Monday evening was quiet. The day had just past. Lucy's former best friend and mentor, Magnus Lydecker, was devoted to shock, misery, and sorrow. Only at the request of her father, had he gathered strength for the writing Lucy's epitaph. His grief at her sudden and violent death he found consolation in the thought that his friend, had she lived to a ripe old age, would have passed into oblivion, whereas the violence of her passing and his geniusness gave her a fair chance at immortality.
His doorbell rang. Its vibrations had barely ceased when Roberto, his manservant, came to tell him that Mr. Dreyar and his comrades had asked to see him.
"Laxus Dreyar!" he exclaimed, and then, assuming the air of one who might meet Zeref without trepidation, he bade Roberto to ask Mr. Dreyar and his comrades to wait.
This visit although Laxus was just a mage and unimportant in high society- he was still uncertain of Laxus's title—conferred a certain honor. Lesser folk are unceremoniously questioned at HQ of the Magic Council. But what had the younger Dreyar had to do with the murder? His triumphs were concerned with brawls and taking down monsters and dark guilds. In the case of The People of Bosco v. Bora his findings had been responsible—or so the editorial writers said—for bringing down one of the largest sex trafficking rings in the city. A senatorial committee had borrowed him for an investigation of black market dark magic items but that still had nothing to do with murderer.
Screened by the half-open door of his study, Magnus watched him move restlessly about his drawing room his comrades sitting on the couch. He was the sort of man, Magnus saw at once, a man who scorns affectation; a man who emphasized the thick muscular and hungry look by clothing himself in some horrible shirt, long black fuzzy trench coat and black suit pants. His hands were long and tense, his face slender, his eyes watchful, his nose a direct inheritance from undoubtedly dour ancestors. Even his nostrils were aggressive. He carried his shoulders high and walked with a taut erectness as if he were careful of being watched. Magnus's drawing room irritated him; to a man of his fiercely virile temperament, the delicate perfection must be cloying. It was audacious, He must admit, to expect appreciation for his belongings- indeed that was what his green haired fellow was doing. Was it not slightly optimistic of himself to imagine that good taste was responsible for the concentration with which Laxus and his comrades had been studying Magnus's possessions.
He noted that his scowl was fixed upon a shining object, one of his peculiar treasures. Habit, then, had made him alert to detail. On the mantel of Lucy's living-room he had, no doubt, observed the partner to his globe-and-pedestal vase of mercury glass. He stretched his hand toward the shelf.
He leaped like a mother leopard.
"Careful, young man. That stuff's priceless."
Laxus turned so sharply that the small rug slid along the polished floor. As he steadied himself against the cabinet, porcelain and glass danced upon the shelves.
"A bull in the china shop," He remarked. The pun restored his humor. He extended his hand shaking everyone's hands.
He smiled mechanically. "I'm here to talk about Lucy Heartfilia, Mr. Lydecker."
"Naturally. Have a seat."
He settled his long frame carefully upon a frail chair. Magnus offered cigarettes, but Magnus pulled out a pipe for himself.
"You're supposed to be quite an authority on crime, yourself, Mr. Lydecker. What do you think about this business?"
He was warmed. No writer, however popular, disdains a reader, however humble. "I am honored to know that you read my work."
"Only when my paper happens to open the page."
Magnus countered it by offering his charm. "You may not be a Lydecker fan, Mr. Dreyar, but I confess that I've followed your career with breathless excitement."
"You ought to know enough not to believe everything you read in the papers," he said dryly.
Magnus was not discouraged. "Isn't criminal investigation a bit out of your line? A trifle unimportant for a man of your achievements?"
"I've been assigned to do this." Laxus growled. The man with the long green hair placed a hand on his back trying to calm the man.
"Office politics?"
Except for the purp-purp of Magnus's pipe, the room was silent.
"The month is August," Magnus mused. "The Magic Council is away on holiday, the Council has always been resentful of your success, and since retail murder is somewhat out of fashion these days and usually, after the first sensation, relegated to page two or worse, they have found a convenient way of diminishing your importance. Not to mention, your grandfather was quite a fan of my friend, and I'm sure her father payed a pretty penny for you to find out who killed Lucy. Must be infuriating especially after he payed another pretty penny to destroy your guild."
Laxus just growled.
"The plain truth, if you want to know it"—he was obviously annoyed with himself for bothering to give an excuse—"is that he knew I wanted to see a concert in the next few days and he's annoyed I didn't even protect the guild from said attack."
Magnus was annoyed but pretended to be enchanted, a concert? How trivial. "Lucy liked those sort of things I never cared for them too noisy, she was looking forward to seeing some Styx concert playing soon."
Laxus was surprised internally that was the same concert he was going to see. So she liked classic rock and concerts? Interesting...
"From trifling enmities do great adventures grow."
"Great adventures! A broad gets murdered in her flat. So what? A man did it. I'll find the man. Believe me, Mr. Lydecker, I'm seeing the concert. The killer himself couldn't stop me."
Pained by his vulgar estimate of his beloved Lucy, He spoke mockingly. "Concerts, eh? No wonder your profession has fallen upon evil days. The greatest mages neither rested nor relaxed until they had relentlessly tracked down their quarry."
"I'm a working man, I've got hours like everyone else. And if you expect me to work overtime on this third-class mystery, you're thinking of a couple of other fellows."
"Crime doesn't stop because it happened on Sunday."
"From what I've seen of your late girlfriend, Mr. Lydecker, I'd bet my bottom dollar that whoever did that job takes his Sunday off like the rest of us. Probably sleeping until noon and waking himself up with three shots of whiskey. Besides, I've got my team working on this with me."
"She wasn't my girlfriend," he said bitterly. Laxus made note of that. "To a man of your achievement, Mr. Dreyar, the investigation of a simple murder is probably as interesting as a column of figures to a public accountant who started as a bookkeeper."
This time he laughed.
"For a few minutes there, I was afraid you had all the virtues except humor and a taste for good whiskey probably, speaking of which whiskey?"
"Don't care if I do."
Magnus poured him a stiff one. He took it like it was water and returned the empty glass for another.
"I hope you don't mind the crack I made about your column, Mr. Lydecker. To tell the truth, I do read it once in a while."
"Why don't you like it?"
Without hesitancy he answered, "You're smooth all right, but you've got nothing to say."
"Dreyar, you're a snob. And what's worse, probably a scotch snob."
He poured his own whiskey this time.
"What is your idea of good literature, Mr. Dreyar?"
Laxus laughed. When he laughed he looked like a boy who has just learned to accept pleasure without fear of sin. He ignored Magnus's question. "After the body was discovered and we learned that Lucy had stood you up for dinner on Friday night," Laxus said, "Natsu and his team came here to question you. Apparently Natsu and the other idiots asked you what you did all evening . ."
Laxus was watching Magnus very closely. Natsu had to be kept on a short leash, all her team members had to be. They were ready to burn down Magnolia to find the man or woman that did it. Laxus had asked Natsu who he should focus on, and Natsu's only response was that he didn't like anyone from Lucy's prior life. That shocked him. Natsu didn't just dislike people. He told him to watch out for Magnus, her former fiance Vincent, her father, and aunt Susan Treadwell. Not very helpful.
"And I told them," Magnus interrupted, "that I had eaten a lonely dinner, reviling the woman for her desertion, and read Gibbon in a tepid tub."
"Yeah, and you know what Gray said? He said this writer guy, Gibbon, must be pretty hot for you to have read him in a cold bath." After a brief pause, he continued, "I've read Gibbon myself, the whole set, and Prescott and Motley and Josephus' History of the Jews." There was exuberance in the confession.
"Why?" Magnus asked surprised.
"Because I felt like it," he mumbled.
"Hmpf- seems like you do have good taste."
"You like a man better if he's not hundred percent, don't you, Mr. Lydecker?"
Before he could answer, Roberto announced breakfast. With his natural good manners, he had set four other plates at the table. Laxus protested at Magnus's invitation since he had come here, not as a guest.
Magnus laughed away his embarrassment. "This is in the line of duty. We haven't even started talking about the murder and I don't propose to starve while we do."
"Twenty four hours earlier a cynical but not unkindly police officer had come into my dining room with the news that Lucy's body had been discovered in her apartment. No morsel of food has passed my lips since the momen Sergeant Schultz interrupted a peaceful breakfast with the news that Lucy, after failing to keep her dinner engagement with me, had been shot and killed."
While they ate, Laxus described the scene at the morgue where Lucy's body had been identified by her former maid, and her aunt, Susan Treadwell. Her father refused to come down. Laxus had frowned when he heard that, that was fucked up and that was him saying that. Laxus was trying hard to not think about the looks on his guild mates faces when they had found out. His grandfather had taken it very hard and the whole guild was taking it personally in their own way. Mira explained it off saying that she was sweet and nice and it's gruesome for someone like that to go out that way. She was family now. He wasn't buying it. They barely knew her. When Lisanna died even he mourned her death. But Lucy? He just couldn't see what was so special about her.
In spite of deep suffering, Magnus could not help but enjoy the contrast between the young man's appreciation of the meal and the morbid quality of his talk. "When they were shown the body"—he paused to lift a morsel on his fork—"her aunt collapsed. It was hard to take even if you didn't know her. A lot of blood"—he soaked a bit of toast in some gravy. "With BB shot . . . You can imagine . . ."
Magnus closed his eyes picturing it, Lucy naked except for a blue silk taffeta robe and a pair of silver slippers.
"Fired at close range"—he spooned relish on his plate. "Mrs. Treadwell passed out, but the servant took it like a veteran."
"She was more than maid to Lucy. Guide, philosopher, cooks like an angel. No man that entered the Heartfilia mansion was, in Bessie's opinion, good enough for Lucy. She was hired on after Lucy's mother died so she wouldn't use magic."
Laxus nodded as Roberto brought in the coffee.
"No! No! No!" Magnus cried as Roberto handed him his cup. He reached across the table and took it himself.
Laxus grabbed another cup. He drank his coffee in silent disapproval, watching as Magnus unscrewed the carnelian cap of the silver box in which he kept the saccharine tablets. Laxus was starting to see why Natsu didn't like this guy. His scorn robbed Magnus attitude of character.
"I must say you go about your work in a leisurely way," He remarked petulantly.
"There are times in the investigation of a crime when it's more important to look at faces." Laxus said.
Magnus turned to the mirror. "Surely you don't think I would kill her? Look how singularly innocent I seem this morning! Tell me, Dreyar, have you ever seen such candid eyes?" He took off his glasses and presented his face, round and pink as a cherub's. "But speaking of faces, Dreyar, have you met the former bridegroom?"
"Vincent Sawarr. I'm seeing him at twelve. He's staying with Mrs. Treadwell."
Magnus seized the fact. "Vincent staying there!"
"He finds the Hotel Framingham too public. Crowds wait in the lobby to see the fellow who was going to marry a murder victim. He is also a aristocrat, so he gets a lot of attention already. But this was too much apparently."
"What do you think of Vincent's alibi?"
"What do I think of yours?" Laxus retorted.
"But you've agreed that it's quite normal for a man to spend an evening at home with Gibbon." He smirked drinking his coffee.
Laxus kept a mask of indifference on his face. Vincent Sawarr had claimed to be at a concert Saturday evening.
"What's wrong about a man going to a Stadium concert? Among a lot of music-lovers and art collectors, that seems a pretty natural way to spend an evening."
"If you knew the bridegroom, you'd not think it was normal. But he finds it a convenient way of not having been seen by any of his friends."
"I'm always grateful for information, Mr. Lydecker, but I prefer forming my own opinions."
"Neat, Dreyar. Very neat."
"How long had you known her, Mr. Lydecker?"
"Seven, eight—yes, it was eight years," I told him. "Shall I tell you about it?" They had moved to another room. Laxus grabbed another cigar and lit it.
Laxus puffed at a cigar, the room was filled with its rancid sweet odor. Roberto entered noiselessly to refill the coffee. The radio orchestra played a rhumba.
"It was at a party that her father had been throwing to introduce her to society. I was asked to cover the party. I should never have committed such a cliché, but, as my editor had asked for it and as we were in the midst of some rather delicate financial rearrangements, I had decided that I could not but gain by appeasement. Just as I was about to throw away a substantial increase in earning power as indulgence for my boredom, this lovely child entered my life. She was a slender thing, timid as a fawn and fawn-like, too, in her young uncertain grace. She had a tiny head, delicate for even that thin body, and the tilt of it along with the bright shyness of her slightly oblique dark eyes further contributed to the sense that Bambi—or Bambi's doe—had escaped from the forest and galloped up into that dance floor."
Bickslow stared at Magnus then at Freed, 'so Lucy was 11 when this guy met her?'
"When I asked what she thought of her party. Fear had taken her voice. She was stammering. "Well, out with it!" I demanded. I was unwilling to acknowledge that I had been touched by her pretty shyness, I spoke harshly. My temper was more choleric in those days." Laxus sat there listening.
"She spoke softly and very rapidly. I tried not to notice the brightness of her eyes, Dreyar. She told me that appreciated all the servants hard work into making the party really nice, and her mother's close and personal friend, named Cancer did her hair. Her embarrassment was painful. I asked if she would have a glass with me. Sherry for me and for herself a Shirley Temple. She clearly would have preferred flight, but she was too shy to refuse. While we drank, I made her tell me about herself. She admired the fact that I was a writer but my pieces were above her levels of comprehension. She admitted that she also wanted to be a writer and as successful as her father but wasn't sure if she wanted to take over the business. Buried beneath the air of timidity was a magnificent will. I hate to admit it but she charmed me that evening.
"She must have been a terrific kid," Freed remarked.
"Only mildly terrific at that period. I recognized her possibilities, however. The next week I entertained her at dinner with her father. That was the beginning. Under my tutelage she developed from a gauche child to a gracious young woman.. Over the years I had seen her grow up to be a marvelous young woman. Lucy knew she was clever, and she was willing to suffer endless rebuffs in order to prove her talents and to be known as a woman in her own right..."
Laxus nodded internally. He could relate to that. Magnus's guests offered no comment. The saturnine mood had returned.
"Was she ever in love with you?" Evergreen asked.
Magnus recoiled. His answer came in a thick voice. "Lucy was always fond of me. She rejected suitor after suitor 6 years after that meeting. Then she ran away and I hadn't heard from her. It broke my heart. But we were working past that when I found out she was in Fairy Tail. These past two weeks felt like a dream."
Freed raised an eyebrow at that.
"My love for Lucy," Magnus explained, "was not merely the desire of a mature man for a pretty young thing. There was a deeper basis for affection. Lucy has made me a generous man. Lucy had told me she considered me the kindest man in the universe, hence I had to grow to that stature. For her I was always Jovian, in humanity as well as intelligence."
Magnus sense doubt behind Laxus's swift glance of appraisal. Laxus rose. "It's getting late. I've got a date with a Duke."
"Behold, the bridegroom waits!" Magnus called. As we walked to the door.
"I wonder how you're going to like Vincent."
"It's not my business to like or dislike anyone. I'm only interested in her friends . . ."
"As suspects?" Magnus teased.
"For more information. I shall probably call on you again, Mr. Lydecker."
"Whenever you like. I do indeed hope to aid, if I can, in the apprehension of the vile being—we can't call him human, can we?—who could have performed such a villainous and uselessly tragic deed. But in the meantime I shall be curious to know your opinion of Vincent is."
"You don't think much of him, do you?"
"Vincent was Lucy's other life as a aristocrat." Magnus stood with his hand on the doorknob. "To my prejudiced way of thinking, the more commonplace and less distinguished side of her existence. But judge for yourself, young man."
They all shook hands.
"To solve the puzzle of her death, you must first resolve the mystery of Lucy's life. This is no simple task. She may have been set to inherit her father's fortune but she had no money herself, she had no hidden rubies but, I warn you, Dreyar, the activities of crooks and racketeers will seem simple in comparison with the motives of a modern woman."
Laxus looked impatient. 'A complicated, cultivated modern woman my ass.'
"I shall be at your command whenever you call, Dreyar. Au revoir."
Magnus stood at the door until he saw Laxus and his companions had gotten into the elevator.