This wasn't what I had originally intended to post for the special update for my birthday, but I'm very happy to get this out all the same. It's been a while since I worked on this fic. I miss it and the plans I have for it.
Fiddling with her keys idly, Lucy mentally kicked herself for not bringing along a book to read. There were magazines available, but a quick perusal later and Lucy was already done with them. Predictably, they were all geared towards transportation, business practices, and other general merchant concerns. There was a single copy of Sorcerer Weekly, but it was already in the hands of Lucy's fellow occupant in the Love and Lucky guild's waiting room. And of course it was the issue she'd seen two weeks ago – with the destroyed guild prominently displayed on the front. It also didn't help that the man reading it – an older gentleman with scarred hands, graying brown hair, and his dark clothes stained with travel dust – kept throwing her inquisitive glances, or more specifically her guild mark on her hand. It didn't take a genius to figure out just why, given the contents of what he was reading. But Lucy kind of wished he would draw on his merchant spirit and mind his own business.
How long had she been waiting? She hadn't glanced at the clock behind the reception desk when she'd entered the Love and Lucky guild hall, and there wasn't one in the room she was currently in. Lucy wondered if that was deliberate, to throw people off, and what kind of advantage that might have. Or maybe the guild just assumed that everyone would have a watch or timepiece. She did think she saw a chain for a pocket watch peeking out from behind the Sorcerer Weekly magazine, but Lucy was loathe to engage the curious owner of said watch directly. And she wasn't entirely certain she could find her way back to the reception, even if she were to risk leaving the room and missing her appointment with the guild representative.
Which left…
Horologium.
Lucy's stomach churned at the thought. All it would take was to hold his key and ask him, but even just thinking of doing that made her nauseous. What did he think of her, now that she'd done… that, to Aquarius's key? Would he blame her for choosing her friends' lives over her spirits? Would he hate her?
What if he asked to be released from their contract?
Lucy didn't think she could bear that. The mere possibility made her want to curl up into a ball and cry. Already had, actually, several times over the past couple of weeks. Once she had thrown up, too. Terror shook her like a tree in a storm, and chills swept through her body like a tidal wave.
Oh gods, not here. Not now.
Choking back the rising bile in her throat, Lucy inhaled deeply and held it. After a moment, she released it and started again. 'You're being ridiculous,' she told herself, over and over in a mantra. 'You did what you had to. Aquarius told you to.' It took a few more deep breaths, but soon she felt a little better, though her heart still jumped around in her ribcage like a frog on cocaine. Belatedly, she loosened her grip on her keys that she had clutched tight in the depth of her miniature panic attack. Red lines were seared into her fingers and across her palm. Which were now smarting a bit.
It was a bit of relief that this particular panic attack had been so mild. As it was, Lucy could feel her ears burning in mortification at having been seen by just one person. Who maybe now seemed more concerned than curious, but Lucy still resolutely ignored him as best as she could. She didn't want to answer any questions right now. She just wanted to get her father's stuff and get out. As fast as possible.
'I should just stand up and go ask the reception how much longer it will be…' That was probably the most logical course of action. And then she could put off having to ask difficult questions to her spirits just a little longer.
Then again… there was still the issue of missing the person she was supposed to talk to about her father's belongings…
Lucy bit her lip. Well. It couldn't be worse than she already feared, could it? Maybe it was better to jump in than to waste energy trying to figure out how deep the water was. This was nothing in comparison to some of the other things she'd done and faced with her teammates.
So then why did this feel so much worse?
In the end, it was habit that had her pressing her thumb against one of her silver keys. 'What… what time is it, Horologium?' she thought at the key, feeling it warm up beneath her touch. It felt scalding against her cold flesh.
'It is 10:46,' Horologium informed her promptly, in his normal matter-of-fact voice. 'You have been waiting for approximately 24 minutes, Miss Lucy.'
Her breath hitched at the spirit's response. Of course he'd heard the unspoken part of her question, too. 'Thank you, Horologium.'
'It is also Tuesday, the 10th of August, Miss Lucy,' the spirit tacked on helpfully.
Now that was a little disturbing. 'Thank you, again.' She hesitated for a moment, then added, 'And Horologium…? I… I was wondering…'
It was strange, but it was almost as if she could feel him smiling at her. 'It was a pleasure to help you, as always Miss Lucy. Call on me any time you have need of me.'
A rush of air left Lucy's lungs and she drooped. He didn't hate her. Her spirit didn't hate her or want to leave. There were no words in her mind to describe what she felt – not quite jubilation, not quite relief. But she did feel… better. Yeah. Better would do.
"Pardon me, but are you alright, Miss?" the stranger suddenly asked her. He laid the magazine in his lap and folded it closed. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem rather pale. Do you need any assistance?"
Lucy looked up at the man, and somehow wasn't surprised to see that the scars she'd seen before on his hands were far from the only ones he possessed. A large one followed the left side of his jawline, and a similar one bisected his eyebrow on the same side. His nose also appeared to have been broken at least twice. He was clean shaven, and had more wrinkles than she'd initially assumed, but he His eyes were green, and full of concern.
"I'm okay, thank you," she told him, feeling a little guilty at having disturbed him and his reading. Even if he'd done more looking at her than strictly reading.
His brow creased. "Are you sure…? The guild has an excellent in-house doctor." His lips quirked up into a wry smile. "I assure you that my nose is not their work."
A pang rippled through Lucy's chest, the man's words drawing up images of Wendy in her mind. "No, I'll be fine."
"Are you okay, or will you be fine? You contradict yourself. Which is it?" he questioned, latching onto the slip in her words with an almost predatory ease. Despite that, there was a tinge of amusement in his tone.
Lucy was spared from having to answer by the appearance of another person, a short red-haired woman dressed in practical clothing and clutching a clipboard. "William Brooklake?" she addressed the pair. "The guild master will see you now."
The strange man – William – placed his magazine on the table and stood up with a grace Lucy had previously only seen in nobles trained to it, and in highly skilled swordsmen. The motion reminded her keenly of Erza. He glanced down at Lucy. "I believe you might find the article on page fourteen of interest to you. Take care, Miss." With that, he followed the woman out of the waiting room.
Lucy sat in silence for a while after he left. The man's words hung over her head, a personalized dark cloud of curiosity and dread. Although she hadn't read the counterpart at her home yet, she was fairly certain she knew what she'd find on the page he'd directed her to. Misery and pain and loss. Her guild's disbandment and the hall's destruction on display for readers to gawk at.
Minutes passed, agonizingly slow.
Eventually, her curiosity and boredom led her to pick up the magazine the man had left behind, despite her misgivings. Both about the contents, and the man himself. Flicking it open to page fourteen, Lucy's eyes scanned the words there.
To her surprise, there was no mention of Fairy Tail at all. The article was about something else altogether. In fact, it was just the normal horoscope. Glancing at the cover, Lucy double checked the page the article on Fairy Tail was on. Page seven, she confirmed. The man had definitely been further in the magazine than that.
Even more confused than she had been, Lucy read over her horoscope. It couldn't hurt. Although the vague advice contained herein was open to interpretation, it was still pretty good general advice most of the time.
"Cancer…" she mumbled under her breath. "You might find yourself surprised by the people you know." That was an understatement. "And there may be tough times right now, but don't overlook new opportunities that come your way. Things will get better, but only if you put in the effort. Your lucky color is blue, and your lucky item is… an umbrella?" That drew out a snort from Lucy. "I guess the author of this took a look at the weather report. Not that a horoscope two weeks old will be all that accurate anymo—"
Thunder suddenly shook the building and rattled the windows, making Lucy jump in her seat. Outside, rain began to pelt the ground with great force and drumming on the rooftop.
Cold sweat beaded on Lucy's forehead. There was no way. This was just a coincidence.
"Lucy Heartfilia?"
For the second time in as many minutes, Lucy jolted at the unexpected sound. "Y-yes?" she said, looking up at the newcomer she hadn't heard entering. It wasn't the same woman as before – this time it was a tall man with light blue hair and goatee.
The man smiled at her pleasantly. "I apologize for making you wait. My name is Ryckton Albright. I'll be helping you with your father's effects."
"I thought there was paperwork I needed to fill out…?" Lucy questioned nervously, standing up.
"Mostly just identity confirmation and signing for the items," Ryckton assured her pleasantly. He indicated the door. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to where they're stored."
Lucy nodded. "Lead the way."
Time to get this over with; the sooner the better.
Hopefully the rain would abate by then.