Hi again. Not much to warn about in this chapter, nothing worse than you've already read. The second half gets a little bit gory, and there's mentions of murder, but nothing too bad.

As always, thank you so much for any comments and kudos you leave. They mean so much. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading. ^.^

Chapter Six – Gambling

"I'm out," Evergreen sighed, pushing back from the table. "See you fucks tomorrow."

The mage stood up, rolling her shoulders back from having been sitting for hours in a somewhat comfortable chair. She rubbed her eyes and placed her glasses on again, grabbing her coat from Laxus' bed where it had been kept and walked towards the door as both Freed and Laxus said a form of goodbye to her; both more polite than the one she had given them.

Laxus and his team of retainers had been gambling since the early afternoon, and it was approaching the end of the night. Bickslow had been the first to leave – he was too expressive to play poker well and been out within their first hour s– but had remained in the room until dinner, where he ate and then left. Evergreen had lasted a lot longer, but after some bad dealings and some even worse luck, she had been forced to leave the table, meaning that it was only Freed and Laxus left playing against one another. The fact that Evergreen showed no hesitance leaving them alone was telling on how their relationship had improved from when they met.

It had been a month and a half since their truce had begun, and it had been shockingly easy to keep up.

Both men seemed to have taken something of a forgive and forget attitude to the start of their relationship. Either because they genuinely wanted to become friends, or saw it made sense to be civil rather than hostile, they both had entered into something of a friendship. Furthermore, the type of friendship they had was unique for Laxus, and he cherished it.

Because, although they hadn't once argued or shared ill will since their truce, Freed was still more than willing to challenge him, and Laxus enjoyed it. Bickslow and Evergreen had never put up with his shit, and were happy to call him out when needed, but Freed was just different.

Laxus could only explain it by saying that Freed seemed unaware that Laxus was royalty in any sense, other than when it was necessary for his job. He could make jokes at Laxus' expense without nervousness and seemed to enjoy doing so, and Laxus found himself enjoying that sensation more than he should. He always had found the pedestal that royalty put him on to be unwanted, and the fact that Freed seemed willing to simply ignore it, and without having weeks to get used to him, like Bickslow and Ever had, was great.

"So, you ready to lose your money, Dreyar," Freed taunted, leaning on the table slightly.

Dreyar was something of a nickname for Laxus now. It was mainly used when Freed was being cocky – so quite often – and Laxus found that he also liked hearing it. Certainly better than having his title spat at him.

"If you could do that then we'd be finished by now," Laxus smirked back, placing the cards on the table again so that they could be shuffled.

"Perhaps," Freed agreed, faking thoughtfulness. "Or maybe I've been going easy on the three of you so I could spare you the embarrassment of being completely destroyed in front of people."

"I suppose nearly losing four times and only staying in the game out of luck was part of that plan, huh?" Laxus taunted back and watched as Freed's smirk lessened slightly.

"I have you where I want you, Dreyar," Freed said after a moment.

Maybe this was why Laxus enjoyed Freed's company so much now. He was intelligent, quick witted and had a sharp tongue, so the two men could engage in some light hearted verbal sparring whenever they wanted. It was a type of conversation that Laxus hadn't really had in his life – other than with his other retainers, who limited their snark for when he was deserving of it rather than using it casually – and the blonde found himself relishing it.

He felt normal while speaking with Freed, and he hadn't realised just how much he wanted that.

His relationship with Freed had other knock on effects as well, rather than just making Laxus enjoy a new type of friendship. It felt as though a small barrier between him and Evergreen and Bickslow had gone. He'd never felt detached from them before, but now he felt closer. Maybe it was because the secrets of them being part of the reformation program was now known, maybe it was because they saw Freed treating him as if he wasn't a prince and thought they could do the same. Whatever it was, they felt a little closer.

That was why he had suggested this poker night; so that the distance between him and his retainers could lessen. Because they were really the people he was closest to, and he wanted them to be his friends before they were his staff.

"Well, if you're that confident then let's start," Laxus smirked.

The cards were shuffled and dealt between them both, and Laxus didn't have too bad of a hand. He leant back and picked up his glass of wine – not his most favoured drink in the world, but not the worst either – and waited for Freed to make his decision. Over the fast few hours, he'd realised Freed played games like he approached a fight: methodically and with planning. Laxus didn't mind waiting, it gave him chance to relax.

"What did gramps want with you yesterday?" He asked after a moment, looking to Freed.

He had seen his grandfather calling his guard into his office the day before and had been curious about why.

"Nothing much, he just wanted to see what my opinion of you was," Freed said passively, also taking a drink from his wine. "I expect he was checking to see that we aren't still at each other's throats."

If that was the case, Laxus wouldn't blame him.

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth," Freed smirked a little. "That you're an egomaniac thug that yells without provocation and spits at people that you see as lesser beings, therefore most people. Nothing someone like you would be offended by."

"Sure you did," Laxus laughs. "Well I'll be sure to be honest as well. Tell him you're an arrogant motherfucker with a stick so far up his ass you can see it in your throat when you're speaking and who is the living embodiment of mutton dressed as lamb."

Freed shook his head slightly with a laugh, pushing forward a small stack of coins, enough to raise the pot. Laxus was confident enough in his cards that he also matched and raised the pot, leaving it to Freed again.

"He also explained to me a little more about your situation, and why I'm needed to look after you," Freed continued, looking over his cards for a second time; either he was unsure of himself or bluffing. "He told me that your father has been sending you letters threatening your life, something you really should have told me. Don't you agree, Laxus?"

When the blonde looked up, he saw a patient yet annoyed expression on Freed's face. Laxus sighed a little.

"We gonna talk about this now?"

"I don't see why we should prolong it," Freed spoke, and his tone was almost authoritative. "It is my duty to protect you, Laxus. Telling me when your being threatened seems rather important."

Laxus sighed. Freed was treating him as a prince now and didn't seem to want to drop the subject.

"He ain't gonna follow through on them; how could he? He's just a little fucking coward pissed off that he ain't getting what he wants. This is how he gets over it, having a hissy fit over letters," Laxus shrugged. "He's just trying to get under my skin, and I'm not going to let him. You gonna keep playing or not."

"If you wish," Freed shrugged, matching and doubling the pot. Laxus had no idea how good Freed's cards were. "And you basing your safety on your father's character. A man who you have claimed is a lunatic and violent. Are you sure that's wise?"

He really wasn't dropping this.

"Yeah, I also said he's a fucking coward, and doesn't have the guts to go against the kingdom," Laxus leant back with arms crossed. "And even if he did, what's he gonna achieve? He ain't getting in the castle and every time I leave, every second is planned now. The only chance of him finding me is if he schedules a damn appointment. And something tells me he might be found out if he tried to do that."

The security around Laxus had been increased dramatically after his first royal visit. It was hard to argue with why; the two time's he'd left magnolia after Ivan was exiled he had been attacked.

He was still allowed to leave, thank god, but it wasn't alone. His retainers still looked after him, but there was also a caravan of guards behind him as a precaution. His routes were also pre-planned heavily and any time he stayed anywhere the guards were placed at every door. Laxus would rather that not happen, but he couldn't deny there was good reason for it.

"Perhaps. But the very fact he can contact you at all is concerning," Freed continued. "You should have told me, that's all."

"Fine, next time I get a death threat I'll be sure to tell you," Laxus conceded, then grinned. "If you want, I'll send you all the letters asking for me to meet with the daughters of the kingdom to get a romance to start. Trust me, needy lords who wanna get involved with royalty are much more dangerous than my father could hope of being."

"I've no doubt," Freed chuckled.

And with that, they were gambling and drinking again. It was as if the small amount of tenseness had never happened between them both. Laxus smiled as he put forth his counter to Freed's bet, as well as showing his cards after meeting the pot.

The fact that the two of them could simply remove any tension without issue was almost miraculous considering how they had acted when they first met. Laxus was glad they could, though, as he would much rather this than have tension boil up between them both before it exploded in a pretty damn unhealthy way. As much as Laxus wasn't going to back down on conflict, he didn't exactly enjoy it and wouldn't seek it out.

They played for a few hours longer and, despite them being pretty evenly matched, luck was on Laxus' side as he gained a slow but steady lead on his retainer. When Freed's money was running low, Laxus managed to gain a pretty brutal hand that, unless Freed had gotten a Royal Flush, meant he would win. And as much as Laxus was enjoying this game and would see nothing wrong with playing into the early hours in the morning, he was also starting to get tired and wanting to sleep, so he wouldn't be merciful.

Besides, just because they were friends, it didn't mean they were any less competitive. And winning would be sweet.

So he raised the pot until Freed's money was gone, revealed his cards and took great delight in the resigned sigh that Freed didn't bother hiding. He took his winnings on his side of the table and smirked as Freed emptied his glass. He wasn't exactly gracious in his victory, but only because he knew Freed wouldn't have been either.

"You sure taught me a lesson," He drawled sarcastically. "I don't think I can ever afford to play against you again, Freed."

"You're hilarious," Freed deadpanned, though was smiling. "And as much as I'd love to continue watching your comedy routine, I think I should go to bed."

"You sure you don't wanna keep going," Laxus taunted with a smirk. "Maybe you'll get some of your money back. And if it turns out that I am just better than you at this despite all the big talk, and I end up with the clothes off your back, then that's what happens."

"I'm sure you'd love that, Dreyar," Freed said as he stood up. "I assume it eats at you every day that I can say I've had you naked in my bedroom, but you can't say the same about me. I expect your ego can't take it."

Laxus barked out a laugh at that. While it didn't come up often – and nobody else knew about it – their ill-advised hook up wasn't off limits in conversations. It had only been brought up in a mocking way, such as how Freed had just used it to annoy Laxus, and it made it seem like less of a mistake. Because if they could talk about it, even if just to each other, it felt less shameful and less misguided. And Laxus almost didn't regret it.

"My ego can take a lot, Justine," Laxus retorted, grinning. "About as much as your ass could, you could say."

Freed paused for a moment, before smiling slightly. "Touché."

Laxus laughed, wishing Freed a good night as the final retainer left his quarters for the night. Once he was alone, Laxus quickly tided his breakfast table of all the mess that had been made, drew his curtains shut and changed into his night clothing. He climbed into his bed without a word, blew out the candle on his bedside table and fell asleep with a smile on his face. He had been doing that a lot as of late.

Perhaps since he and Freed had called a truce.

He didn't think about that though.

In the darkness of night, a hooded figure hauled along a large, heavy sack behind him. He threw it to the ground, letting it slump on the cobbled streets, and he slammed his fist against an old door loudly.

He had been traveling throughout the night, the rain had been pelting at him relentlessly and his muscles were aching. The strain on his body hadn't for a moment stopped him from what needed to be done; this was all a mild discomfort when compared to what would happen if he had disappointed his employer. He had a task to be done and, if he failed in doing so, the punishment would be hell in comparison to some aching muscles and a bit of rain water.

After a few seconds, the door was opened, and the hooded figure was allowed in. He hauled the sack over his shoulder with difficulty and entered the building. His stomach was flipping as he did so.

The corridors were made of stone and not wide, so the sack was slamming against them as it swayed form side to side. The hooded man paid no attention to this, only being cautious around the open candles that lit the long corridor, as the bag was made of thatch and would ignite easily. Any bruising was acceptable on what was being carried, but the hooded man expected that any unnecessary burn marks would not be favourable for him. He just wanted to get this done as quickly as possible and be out of this madman's debt the moment he could.

He soon found what his employer called his laboratory. Magical runes painted the walls, and in the centre was a stone platform that was always referred to as an obelisk. The hooded man dumped the sack on the ground and waited for his employer to react.

"You're early," Was heard from the shadows. "I do hope that means all went well with your retrieval."

From the dark area of the room, Ivan Dreyar stepped out. The hooded figure could never describe what he looked like; he was somehow a mix of madness and complete composure. He was just wrong in a way that couldn't be put into words, and he made the hooded figure go rigid straight in obedience.

"Yes, sir," He replied. "The contact remains on your side, and there were no issues in retrieval."

"Good good. It's nice to know some people still respect me there and haven't been twisted by that old fucker," Ivan continued.

He was referring to the castle. The hooded man had been sent there to retrieve a 'package' from someone who had turned on the king and sympathised with Ivan. The hooded man, though not neutral on the issue, found it shocking that Ivan had such a man on the inside of the castle, one that was willing to commit treason for him no less. He had tried not to think about that, instead getting the package and leaving the castle as soon as he could.

He also tried not to think about what the package was. But he knew. It could only be one thing.

"Show me, boy," Ivan continued, and the hooded man moved quickly.

He opened the sack and slid down the content. It was a body. The body of a man with manic blonde hair. The corpse of a god-slayer. The magic that had been keeping the body in-tact was wearing off now that it was out of the castle, and it was very subtly starting to decompose. The hooded man would have gagged at the smell, if he hadn't been tormented by it for the entire walk back.

Ivan tutted slightly. "Put it on the obelisk. Quickly."

The hooded man did as he was told, scooping up the corpse and placing it on stone platform.

He was sick at his own actions, but knew he had to do it. When Ivan was in the royal family, he had gathered a large amount of blackmail on a large amount of people. He was now using that to his advantage, and the hooded figure was one such victim.

Ivan stood in front of the blonde man's body, an expression of disappointment on his face. He inspected the wound on the man's torso and tutted again. The hooded man tried not to move, watching as Ivan carefully paced around the corpse. A pale light started to surround Ivan, and little paper figures began to swarm around him from the shelves and drawers that were scattered around the laboratory, propelled by magic. The hooded figure didn't dare move.

Suddenly, white light erupted, and the paper figures dived into the corpse.

A second later, the corpse awoke with a jagged breath.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit."

"Oh Zancrow," Ivan ignored the living corpse's cussing. "Weren't you a disappointment."

The revived man, Zancrow, looked around in alarm. He seemed to know what was happening and seemed scared of it. Terrified.

"Please don't. Please no."

"Cute," Ivan chuckled. "But I didn't revive you because I want you to be cute. I need something from you, that's all."

Zancrow's begging got worse, but Ivan seemed as though he didn't hear it. The blonde man struggled but couldn't move for whatever reason. He thrashed and fought against his non-existent bonds, but nothing worked. Ivan still paid him no attention, walking to a small shelf and picking up a large blue crystal. Zancrow went rigid at the sight of it.

"It is such a shame I have to do this," Ivan's tone betrayed his words. He wasn't remorseful at all. "But you did let me down. Didn't you?"

He didn't allow Zancrow the time to answer, plunging the crystal into the man's open chest wound. Lights flashed and pulsed throughout the room, and Zancrow screamed in obvious pain as the crystal seemed to drag something out of him. The hooded man could only watch as Zancrow was drained, his flesh receding and almost liquifying within an instant. The light died down suddenly, leaving nothing but a skeleton covered in blood and the fermented remains of Zancrow's flesh.

"It's much harder to retrieve someone's magic when their soul is dead. That was why I needed to revive him," Ivan explained. Still no remorse. "I'd apologise for the screaming, but if this works as I intend it to, you won't have to live with them for too long."

The implication was clear, and the hooded man turned to run before the sentence was done.

It didn't help. His body sealed up and a rush of pain split through him.

All he could sense were the feeling of his soul being removed from his body, the sight of the crystal in Ivan's hand glowing yellow as it had when plunged into Zancrow's chest, and the chilling sensation of Ivan's still remorseless expression now being aimed at him as agony overtook everything.

He thought of nothing else.

And then he died.