One Sweet Dream

by yellowchikadee

When a member of Fairy Tail finds a man among the wreckage of Nirvana, she must make the impossible choice to turn the dark wizard in to the Magic Council, or bring him back to her own guild. What role could Midnight of the Oracion Seis possibly play in Fairy tail, and how will his presence affect the members of Team Derelict Heart? Time will tell what becomes of Macbeth's prayer.

75. Countdown

A/N: This is it, the final chapter! It's long, so feel free to read it in more than one sitting. It's broken up into easy enough sections for you. Onward march, my beautiful readers.

---

Chapter 75: Countdown

One Week

Almost every member of Fairy Tail has gathered in the guild hall, awaiting a major announcement…

"What's all the commotion about?" Pantherlily asked, black paws placed on his hips.

"Beats me," Gajeel said, standing in the exact same position. "You got any idea, Beth?"

Macbeth's arms were crossed over his chest under his coat, eyes turned toward the stage like everyone else. "How should I know?" he 'tch'ed. "I haven't been with Fairy Tail for long either. Erik?"

The poison dragon slayer's eyebrows were twitching in annoyance. "I don't know," he snapped. "I can't hear with all this damn noise. It's making my ears hurt."

"I think the Master is going to tell us about something big happening," Wendy said nearby, with Carla held against her chest.

"Can't say I'm excited," the exceed drawled in annoyance.

"What's he gonna say?" Alzack tapped his fingers together. "The suspense is killing me!"

"We worked our little tails off, right?" Bisca assured him. "Don't worry."

In another part of the crowd, Natsu was looking left and right like an overexcited puppy.

"Just calm down Natsu," Happy chided. "You got this!"

"The tension here is huge," Elfman remarked. "Very manly."

Gray scoffed next to him.

Dreamer stood with Piper and Jezran, a few feet in front of Macbeth and company.

"Doll, I'm gonna get it this year," Piper said, bouncing in his boots.

"If anyone's going to get the title, it's Pops," Dreamer argued.

"Impossible, dear me," Jezran chuckled. "I have specifically requested every year that Master leave me out of this competition."

"Don't bother me none," Piper smirked. "Just increases my odds of winning."

The green curtain began to rise on the stage. Cheers filled the room. It rose to reveal Master Makarov, Erza, Mirajane, and Gildarts. The way Makarov stood, cloaked in white, arms folded over his little chest and expression serious, all communicated big business.

The master cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. "In accordance with the Fairy Tail guild's time honored tradition, I will now announce this year's entrance for the S-Class wizard promotion trial!"

The crowd erupted in cheers so loud that Erik finally walked out.

"Heh, wimp," Gajeel smirked as the other slayer fled.

"Shut up and pay attention," Macbeth said.

"Please be quiet everyone!" Erza said over the din.

"Shut up and let the master finish talkin,'" Gildart's added.

The room fell silent, anticipation stifling the noise.

Dreamer clutched her hands together. Macbeth stepped forward to stand between her and Piper.

"The trial, this year, will take place on Tenrou Island," Makarov announced, "our guild's sacred ground."

"What is this nonsense, Dream?" Macbeth asked over her shoulder.

"Every year, Master chooses wizards to participate in this trial," she explained. "And whoever wins gets promoted to S-Class."

"Hm." He narrowed his eyes. The Oracion Seis had never had need for rituals like this, given they only had six members.

"The strength that you possess inside," Makarov lifted a fist, as his voice took on a passionate tone, "your character, and your hearts. These are what I considered when making my selections. And I have chosen eight participants!"

"Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Elfman, Cana Alberona, Freed Justine, Levy McGarden, and Mest Gryder!"

Piper collapsed dramatically on the floor. "I don't get it! My odds was good… He picked Fairy Freed over me?"

"It seems you have to have some level of skill to participate in this trial," Macbeth taunted, prodding at his roommate with his boot.

Nearby, Romeo was grinning ear-to-ear at the announcement.

"When I grow up, I'm going to be an S-Class wizard too! You just watch me!"

"Yeah! And me too!" Syllest fist-pumped at his side.

"Although eight wizards have been selected, only one will emerge victorious!" Makarov continued. "The trial will begin in one week's time, so you'd better step up your preparations!"

Gajeel was fuming. "How come he picked Juvia, but I get passed over?! I thought the old man liked me more than her!"

"You seem to have a shady reputation in the guild for some reason," Pantherlily commented. This was met with a smirk over his shoulder from Macbeth.

"Shut your mouth, Beth! It ain't like he picked you neither!"

"I wasn't interested to begin with," came the mocking response.

Carla's paws were on her hips, an amused smile below her kitty nose.

"And, as usual," she said to herself, "everybody loses control—"

Her eyes suddenly went wide, pupils contracting. Images flashed through her mind. Falling trees, Natsu weeping, limp hands laying on the earth. An image of a man surrounded in a veil of dark power. There were other images too, ones that made less sense. Something that resembled a flying ship, a man with an eyepatch, the earth being shadowed by something that eclipsed the sun, and a man with long black hair and yellow eyes, holding a black diamond rose in his palm.

Of all the strange, disturbing images, that was the only one that registered in her brain. She knew from being at Wendy's side in the infirmary with Dreamer for so long, that the man she had seen must have been Resmond.

The master continued to explain the rules, detailing how the eight contestants needed to choose partners, and how they would be facing Gildarts, Erza, and Mirajane on the island.

"The eight participants I named earlier, and their partners, are asked to meet at the port of Hargeon one week from today. So, get to work."

---

Later, that same day:

Team Derelict Heart, along with Erik and Kinana, Gajeel and Pantherlily, and Mirajane were all gathered together by a guild window, watching the snow fall and drinking cocoa together. Syllest and Romeo played nearby, acting out how they imagined the battles were going to go and arguing about whether Natsu or Elfman would win the title.

"So," Macbeth opened one eye to cut a glance at Gajeel. "You asked Levy to be her partner?"

Gajeel's cheeks took color, and he pointedly turned away from the other man. "Yeah, so what? It's only so I get a chance to beat the crap outta some of those other losers."

"Mhm." Macbeth smirked. Erik laughed out loud.

"Stop being mean," Kinana poked Erik in the cheek.

"What about you, Piper?" Dreamer sipped on cocoa and looked to her right, where Piper was sitting with his arms and face on the table, absentmindedly dropping handfuls of marshmallows into his cocoa and glaring at it like he wished it were something else.

"What about me, doll?" A marshmallow rolled off the mountain and bounced off his knuckle.

"Are you going to partner up with Cana?"

He blushed just as deeply as Gajeel had. "I… I'm gonna ask a'right? Just gotsta get up the courage."

"Aaaw, Piper!" Mira squeezed his shoulders with a giggle. "You're shy!"

"I ain't shy, MJ!" He sat up with a pout. "I just don't want her to think I'm being overeager, you's know?"

"How could she ever get that impression from you, Piper?" Macbeth said.

"Shut the hell up, Mac! You're getting' real ballsy with your shit lately!"

"Oh, Piper." Mira smiled warmly at him. "I'm really happy that you and Cana are finally admitting your feelings for each other. Everyone could see it, you know. Even while you were obsessed with Dreamer. I think you two would make such a cute couple."

Piper groaned and shoved his hot chocolate to Dreamer before burying his face in his sleeves.

"Dear me, it really is coming down out there, is it not?" Jezran was facing the window, hot chocolate dripping from his white streaked mustache.

They all paused bickering for a moment to watch with him. The snow, coming down in wild flurries from a black sky, painting the world in white. It was a sight to see. It made a strange sense fall on Dreamer. It had been spring when Master sent her to Nirvana. The Worth Woodsea had been blooming with flowers and green, when she dug in the rubble to find the source of the growling she'd heard. When she discovered a certain dark wizard, fast asleep under stones.

The same dark wizard who was staring at her now, months later, his red eyes drowning her—speaking of things unseen, of deep feelings, freedom and desire. She met his gaze and smiled. To her astonishment, he smiled back.

The sound of little paws pattering on the wood floor stole her attention.

"Carla," Pantherlily said, as he saw the white exceed approach, purpose in her stride. "Are you not with Wendy?"

"At the moment, no." She came to stand before them, her tail swishing in annoyance.

Dreamer frowned. Not annoyance… Fear. Confusion. Desperation.

"May I have a word with you, Dreamer?"

"Me?" Dreamer gestured at her chest and blinked.

"You are the only 'Dreamer' here, aren't you?"

"Ah… Okay." She stood up, taking her cocoa with her as she stepped around the table. "What is it, Carla?"

"We should talk in private." She started to walk, but paused, an ear twitching. She glanced at Erik from the corner of her vision, catching amethyst eyes looking at her. "Actually, let's take a walk."

The two of them left the group. Dreamer grabbed her coat off a stand by the guild hall doors and followed the exceed outside, into the December air.

"You don't want Erik to hear." It was more of a statement than a question. Dreamer asked it as she struggled to keep up with Carla's quick footsteps.

"He's a nuisance, that one," she scoffed. "But it seems he can only hear words that someone is thinking, not images or feelings. Still, he's a pest."

Further down the street. Another block. The air was icy and sharp.

Suddenly, Carla stopped walking by the river. She turned, though she didn't face Dreamer directly.

"Are you aware that I have some amount of prophetic sight?"

Dreamer stood next to her and gazed at the water flowing. "Yes, Pantherlily has mentioned it. You discovered it in Edolas, right?"

"Indeed."

Another pause. The cat's whiskers twitched, along with her tail. She seemed to be contemplating her words.

"I believe something unfortunate will take place on Tenrou Island during this trial."

Dreamer listened, feeling the dread that Carla was experiencing.

"It's difficult to say… My abilities are far from refined. Nor do they have perfect accuracy. This could all be a slim possibility, but still…"

She sighed, finally turning to look up at Dreamer.

"Syllestra's father. I see him in these visions of Tenrou Island."

Dreamer took a step back. A chill that ran deeper than the wind sliced to her bones.

"That's impossible."

Macbeth told her that he fell. Resmond's body plummeted below, into the dark shaft of the tower. The same tower that crumbled and crushed the Nikolana Device, and him as well.

"Perhaps…" Carla sighed. "Honestly, there's a very good chance that it's false. It might have been better not to tell you at all… Still. Of the images I've seen, his is the only one I recognize. I see him in the bowels of a ship, waiting… for you."

Dreamer released a small cry. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. There was a distant sound of glass shattering on the snow-speckled street—the rise of steam from hot chocolate mixing with snow.

"I am telling you this so that you stay away from the island." Her voice became haughty again. "I will likewise be advising Wendy to avoid the island at all costs. I hoped to tell you so that you don't partner up with any of the participants."

The wind blew snow against them.

"At any rate. That is what I wanted to tell you. I must go fetch Wendy now."

Dreamer nodded, but she couldn't speak.

Carla walked away, her tail swishing sadly in the snow behind her.

Dreamer sat on the snow, not caring about the cold anymore. Tears streaked her face as she stared up at the black sky.

It can't be. Resmond is dead. He's gone. He was crushed under rubble.

But in her heart, she knew better. She knew from experience that a man could live, trapped under debris, until someone came along to pull him out.

She wondered if it could be true. Could Resmond be on Tenrou Island? Would he be waiting for her? And why…?

Why couldn't she be free of him?

---

6 Days

Dreamer's saw her own visions when she slept. Memories—nightmares. Resmond killing Rosy, Syllest's body hanging far above Dreamer's reach, a suit of black-diamond armor, a spike shooting through her chest…

She woke with her hand above the place her heart used to be.

Was it not enough that he took Rosy, that he took my heart, that he tried to take Syllest… Will it ever be enough?

That morning, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. If her face were a bit rounder, her hair a bit longer, she could be Rosy.

The magic circles spun in her eyes and she gazed into them, reflected at her.

Peace. Joy. Peace.

She knew it wouldn't work. She couldn't charm herself. She wouldn't be able to anyway, if she knew she were trying to do it. But even reciting those words helped. It didn't help the pain go away, but it helped her paint on a smile. It helped her eyes twinkle. It helped craft the mask she would wear the rest of the day. She needed to look happy, because she couldn't tell anyone what Carla had told her. She couldn't.

Macbeth…

He'd seen her die by Resmond's hand. He needed Resmond to be dead just as much as she did. He deserved to be free of that demon. She couldn't let him know that he might still be alive. She had to stay strong.

So, she grinned as they drank tea with Jezran, just like any other morning. She rolled her eyes at Piper and Macbeth's antics. Her eyelashes fluttered when Macbeth looked at her. She maintained the façade perfectly. She had always been skilled at pretending to be happy.

"Where's Erik this morning?" she asked Macbeth while he adorned his apron so that he could go behind the counter and help Kinana.

"He left this morning for a job," came the nonchalant reply.

"By himself?" She was surprised. She knew he was a member of Fairy Tail now, but she was under the impression that he was still under at least some supervision.

Macbeth's fingers paused as he tied the apron string around his neck. "It's not a regular job." His lip twitched with a smile, a genuine smile, as he thought of his friend. "He's going to make repairs for some damage he caused when he was in the Oracion Seis."

"Oh!"

So, Erik and Macbeth both were still trying to make right the sins they had committed in their past life. The realization made her feel a spark of warmth—but it was quickly snuffed out by the ever-present memory of Carla's words.

"Dream," his voice pulled her out of thought. He turned his back to her and swept his hair over his shoulder. "Tie this for me."

"Why? I've seen you do it yourself a hundred times."

"I want you to do it." There was the teasing edge to his tone.

She blushed slightly, ignored the exasperated groan that came from Piper, and stood to tie the strings of his apron. Fingers brushing the skin of his neck, catching on stray curls.

"Don't forget my waist," he commanded, voice low.

"GET A ROOM WOULD YOU'S?!"

"Hm, we could go to my room, Dream," Macbeth smirked as she tied the strings on his back.

"Not that room, bastard!" The veins on Piper's forehead pulsed with rage.

"Dear me," Jezran rested a hand on Piper's shoulder, "if it is not Miss Alberona coming in early." His brown-eyed gaze followed Cana as she came in the guild doors and slumped at a table. "Do you not have something to ask her, lad?"

Piper was successfully distracted. He stood up, briskly, causing his chair to scape on the wood floor. He licked his palm and slicked down a stray strand of sky-blue hair.

"Attractive," Macbeth remarked. Dreamer elbowed him in the side.

The dice-mage straightened his jean vest, puffed his chest out, checked his piercings to make sure they were all in place (a nervous habit), and strode with purpose to Cana's table.

"Gajee~" Macbeth cupped his mouth with one hand and called to the iron-dragon slayer, who was currently shoving bacon and eggs into overstuffed cheeks.

"Wha?"

"1,000 jule says she turns him down," Macbeth jutted his thumb at Piper and Cana.

Gajeel thought for a moment. "Alright, you're on!"

Piper slid onto the bench next to Cana. She lifted her head and looked lazily at him.

"What's up, Pipe?" she yawned.

"How you's doin,' babe?" He propped one leg up on the bench.

"I'm fantastic," she said, words dripping with sarcasm.

"So, this is it." He chewed his lip and glanced across the room, where Gildarts was chugging orange juice with his breakfast. "The S-Class trial."

"Yep."

"And he's gonna be there on the island with you's."

"How about you tell me something I don't know, Piper?" If looks could kill…

"You're gonna do it this year, doll…" His voice took on a softer edge than usual. He reached up and rubbed her back with his palm, encouragingly. "I believe in you's."

Her face softened and she let out a quiet sigh. "Thanks, Pipe. That… means a lot."

"No biggie, babe." He gave a cheeky grin and stroked his goatee. "So, what should I bring?"

"Huh?" She blinked, uncomprehending.

"To the island?" His grin got even cockier. "I'm going wit' you's, right?"

"Why would you go with me?" She frowned.

"Wha—" he blinked. "Cuz I'm gonna be your partner, doll! Ain't that obvious?!"

"Oh." Cana yawned again and straightened up, stretching her arms over her head. "Yeah, sorry, but I already said yes to Lucy."

Piper's jaw dropped. "You… You's what?!"

"Yeah, she asked me last night." There was no remorse in those purple eyes. "She picked my ass up off the street."

"B-Babe!" Piper stood up, looking desperate. "But I t'ought we's… I mean…"

"What?" Cana shrugged.

"We're buddies, doll!"

"So?" She sighed heavily. "Me and Lucy are friends too. We sort of crossed that boundary when we took a bath together."

Piper blinked. For a moment, his eyes clouded, his cheeks flashed pink, and there might have been a slight drip of blood from his nose… He shook his head violently.

"But, Cana! I wants to be there for you when you make the cut! I wants ta support you's when you… You know!" He jutted a thumb discreetly in Gildart's direction.

"Look, I don't know what to tell you, Piper." She stood up. "You should have said something yesterday."

Piper's face twisted in a look of dejection.

Ten feet away, Gajeel was slapping jule into Macbeth's hand.

"B-Babe—"

"Piper." Makarov's voice interrupted this exchange. The old master walked over and looked up at the gambling wizard. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Huh? Yeah, Gramps, what's up?"

"Roll your dice."

"What for?" He pulled his red dice out of his pocket. "I gotsta know what I'm rolling for."

"Just general luck," the master said, cryptically.

"A'right…" Piper frowned, then held the dice up toward Cana. "Can I get some luck?"

"Sure, whatever." Cana folded her arms over her stomach and blew a breath of air into Piper's hands.

He shook the dice and rolled them on the table.

Snake-eyes.

"Shit, gramps. I don't know whose luck I was rollin' for, but it ain't lookin' good for 'em."

"Hm." Makarov pinched his eyebrows. "Piper, I'd like you to come with us to Tenrou Island."

Emerald eyes widened in shock.

"I'm curious to test the accuracy of your magic. I'd like you to roll for each match-up in the trial." Makarov explained. "That is if you can stay focused, and promise not to intervene in anyone's battles." He glanced twice at Cana.

"You gots it, Gramps!" Piper grinned widely and slid his dice back into his pocket. He smirked meaningfully at Cana. "Looks like I'm gonna be there to watch you's succeed anyway."

"Great. More pressure." Cana scoffed and strode off.

"Wha—What did I say, babe?!" He groaned in frustration. "Goddamn women… Can't say anything right to 'em…"

"Remember, we're meeting at the port of Hargeon in six days," Makarov reminded him. "I expect you to be there with everyone else."

"You can count on me, gramps!" Piper gave a mock salute. The hair he'd slicked down with his own saliva popped comically into the air.

"Give me back my jule," Gajeel held his hand out to Macbeth.

"Not a chance."

"He's taggin' along, so that means I win!"

"The bet was whether she would reject him, and she did, so this money belongs to me." Macbeth turned on his heel and walked behind the counter.

"You're a scumbag, Beth!" But Gajeel chuckled deeply.

Dreamer watched, but she wasn't smiling. There was a throb in her chest from the lacrima heart.

Piper's going to Tenrou Island? But if Resmond is there…

What am I going to do?

---

5 Days

Dreamer sat in the corner of the guild basement, alone, with the audio lacrima device held up to her ear.

"You're sure?" she said, in a breathless murmur.

"Yes," came the voice of Jezran's younger brother and heir to the Excalibur Family name. "You know how the Family is, Dreamer. We always go back to clean up our messes."

She chose not to think about the implied meaning here.

"Just so we're clear…" her mouth was dry, skin clammy. "You went back to the ruins personally, and—"

"There was no body, nor traces of a splattered body. I am not as excellent a tracker as my brother, but it did appear to me as though rubble had been rearranged, perhaps moved to retrieve the body."

"I see."

She had to know. She called the Excalibur Family before the guild hall opened, so she could hear it for herself. She had hoped to hear that Resmond's body had been collected by the Family and disposed of—she had hoped to disprove Carla's visions about Tenrou Island, but… It seemed she had only verified the possibility of them being true.

"Terry?" She petitioned the man on the other end of the line. "Please, don't tell Jezran or Arturus about this talk. I just… I needed to know."

There was a moment of silence before, "I understand. I will keep your inquiry secret. We all have skeletons in our closets, after all."

"Thank you, Uncle."

She bid him farewell, then held the lacrima device against her chest as she caught her breath.

Skeletons in our closets? If only Resmond were just a skeleton…

She wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks, then stood up and put on her bravest smile, yet again.

Time to face the day.

She was strong. She was composed. When someone caught her smile falter, she charmed them with her magic. Trust. Trust. Trust. She laughed when it was right to laugh. She nodded when people spoke to her. She leaned into Macbeth's touches when he teasingly cupped her face or put his arms around her.

All the while, she thought of Resmond.

She tucked Syllestra into bed. Stroked her black hair. It was short now, but still as dark as the starless night—still reminiscent of him. She held her child close, petitioned the gods or whoever would listen as to why… Why this child could never be free.

She sat on the couch with Mira and they drank tea. She listened to the other woman ramble on about who she expected to face in the trials, and how she hoped she wouldn't face her brother.

Then, she laid awake on her bed, staring at the fan on the ceiling.

She did not sleep.

---

4 Days

Team Derelict Heart was having their morning tea. It was too cold to sit outside, and the café was closed in the winter anyway, so they were gathered by their window in the guild hall, sipping tea in relative silence.

Dreamer was lost in thought, staring out the window at the white ground. There were dark circles around her eyes from an obvious lack of sleep, though she had done her best to cover them with makeup. There was no rest for her mind, as it mulled constantly over what she should do. Stay? And live forever wondering where Resmond was and what he was planning? Go? Make sure he stayed down this time?

"I wish you would stop smiling," Macbeth said testily next to her, his words directed at Piper, who was staring up at the ceiling with a grin.

"Heh, no way." Piper leaned is chair on its back legs. "I'm goin' on a vacation away from you's." His smile widened. "And Cana's gonna win the S-Class trial and then…" There was a devious glint in his eyes.

"You think she'll have a celebration night with you, Piper?" Macbeth taunted. "You really do live in a fantasy dream-world, don't you?"

"It's none of your goddamn business, Mac!" Even now, his smile didn't falter at his roommate's antagonizing.

"Enjoy yourself," Macbeth said, darkly. "Dream and I will occupy the bedroom while you're gone."

Dreamer blinked, realizing she'd just been dragged into the conversation. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're nothin' but talk, Mac." Piper closed his eyes and kept rocking on his chair with a peaceful smile.

Macbeth's bottom lip jutted in a pout, clearly disappointed that he couldn't get under Piper's skin.

"Dear me," Jezran sipped his tea, then sat the cup on the saucer. "Piper, should you not be making preparations? And you, Macbeth, are you not due in the café for Miss Scarlet's daily dozen?"

Macbeth glanced at a clock on the wall, and was suddenly scrambling to his feet.

Jezran chuckled as the man raced to the kitchen without so much as a goodbye. Piper stood up as well, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "Guess I oughta do laundry before this trip. Later!"

Dreamer and Jezran were left at the table, tea and cookies between them.

"Dear Dreamer, would you like me to whip up some mustard sandwiches for you?" The old man folded his hands on the table and gave a close-eyed smile to her.

"No, thank you, Pops." She managed a smile in his direction, hoping it was convincing. Her gaze returned to the snowy ground.

"Dreamer." He took her empty cup and poured boiling water in it, over a new teabag. "Do you remember when we first met, dear me?"

She nodded, absentmindedly. "Of course, I do."

"It was a bit chilly that night, wasn't it, dear me." He chuckled again, but this time it was quieter. Thoughtful.

"I guess it was."

"It occurred to me as strange that, with a magic such as your own, you were living on the streets." He dropped a sugar cube in her tea and began to stir it with a silver spoon.

She finally looked at him. There was something strange in his tone of voice—and it was unlike him to bring up the past. She instinctively reached for his emotions. Concern.

"Surely, you could have charmed someone into providing for you. Why then, dear me, were you living in such a depraved manner?" His stirring slowed. He took the spoon out of the cup and laid it slowly on a napkin. "To be honest, this question has haunted me for years."

He lifted the cup and held it out to her. She took it carefully, eyes narrowed at the old man.

"I don't like to use my magic on people without good cause," she said, wondering where all this was coming from.

"Yes, I am aware." He leaned back, folding his hands on the table once more. "However, there was more than good cause for you to have used your magic at that stage in your life, dear me. You were caring for yourself and young Syllestra. I can think of no better reason to use one's magic."

"Pops, I don't—"

"The reason you did not use your magic is that you have always preferred to do things on your own. You believe you were acting in humility, so as not to burden others, but in truth, it has always been pride that guides you."

Cold pinpricks went down her spine.

"Look at me, dear me." His voice was a hard command—the voice of a mob prince, not a gentle grandfather. She couldn't help but obey, immediately getting caught in brown eyes.

"Be sure, dearest Dreamer, that whatever it is you are planning is not guided by your pride."

"I'm not—"

His eyes narrowed. She swallowed the end of her sentence.

"Dreamer, Family is all around you. Keeping your feelings from them does not decrease the burden you fear you will place on their hearts. It is not an act of humility. If it is pride telling you to take captive a plot that will bring you harm, then you are making a grievous mistake, dear me."

She had been a fool to think she could fool Jezran, of all people. There wasn't anything the man ever missed. His attention to detail was astounding, as always.

"I…" Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Dreamer…" He reached out and took her hands in his own, weathered palms. "You need not tell me what ails you. It is not my intention to pressure you, dear me. I mean only to tell you that you are not alone. If you are troubled, your burdens too heavy to carry, then share the weight with us. Your Family. There is nothing myself, nor Piper, nor Macbeth would not do for you, dearest Dreamer. Do not let pride lead you to suffering. When you are ready, tell one of us, and we will relieve you of your pain, dear me."

She couldn't hold his gaze any longer, so she looked away with a sniffle. Jezran released her hands, and leaned back in his seat.

"I am sure, dear me, there are many ways the lad Macbeth could help relieve some of your stress." His brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

"POPS!" Her face went bright red. "I can't believe you!"

He chuckled deeply. "I was young once, too, believe it or not." The sparkle in his eyes. "I spent many years in quite a deep admiration for a woman, you know. The happiest years of my life before I encountered you and Syllestra, of course." His eyes closed at the fond memories, mustache twitching in amusement.

She didn't say anything in response. Her head hung low, bangs shielding eyes that were deep in thought.

"I ask you to please consider, dear me, pouring your worries out to one of us, at least. You are not alone, Dreamer. Do not let your pride convince you otherwise."

With these final words, he stood. He placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, with all the affection of a father or grandfather. She smiled weakly up at him, then watched as he walked away, teacup in tow. Her sight trailed down to her own cup. Her tea was already cold, and some loose leaves hovered at the bottom of the cup.

---

Dreamer didn't have a real grasp on time. Hours felt like seconds, seconds like years. All around her was the confusing splinter—past overlapping with present and future. Unidentifiable time. Indecision had her frozen there. Jezran's words played repeatedly in her head. Was he right? Was she just being proud by keeping this secret to herself? The secret of Resmond's return… What were her real motives?

She was so tempted to talk to someone about it, like he suggested. Especially in the afternoon, when Macbeth snatched her by the wrist and pleaded with her to take a nap at his side. The entire time she lay beside him, listening to his breathing slow, feeling his warmth… She thought she would tell him.

Macbeth… Resmond is alive. He's on Tenrou Island. I want to go. I want to stay.

Once or twice, her lips parted with the words positioned on the tip of her tongue. Once or twice, she almost fumbled out her fears, her plans, her uncertainty. But each time, her tongue would stick to the roof of her mouth, and her jaw would freeze. Finally, she stopped trying. She closed her mouth and swallowed the confession, while Macbeth fell asleep.

While he slept, she thought.

Tenrou Island… Even if she wanted to go, there was no way Makarov would allow it. Especially if she told him what Carla had told her. If the Master knew that Resmond might be on the island, he wouldn't let Dreamer anywhere near it. Besides, there was the possibility that Carla's vision wasn't real, or accurate. If Carla was keeping it to herself, then she must not have believed it carried much merit herself. Maybe Resmond wouldn't be there at all. But if he was… If he was waiting for her…

I can't just ignore it.

What did that mean? Did it mean she would need to find a way to go to Tenrou Island with the others, without raising their suspicions? And if so, how? She could charm them, but her magic could only go so far.

You could tell Piper about what Carla saw. He could keep a lookout for Resmond while he's there.

She dismissed the thought as soon as it passed. She couldn't put Piper in that position. Besides the fight with Resmond was hers. Everyone else had suffered by stepping into her own, personal battle. Piper had been wounded, Jezran had almost died, and Macbeth had been traumatized. She couldn't force them to go through anything like that again.

Be sure, dearest Dreamer, that whatever you are planning is not guided by pride.

She felt a stab of guilt in her stomach, but she ignored it. It couldn't be considered prideful to want to protect the people she loved… could it?

The conflict raged in her mind, ripping and tearing her sanity the entire time she laid with Macbeth's arm around her.

What do I do?

Macbeth rose from slumber just before dinner. Dreamer felt him nuzzle against her hair—felt his lips brush the skin of her neck. It seemed as though he might litter her in kisses like he had the nights he slept with her in the infirmary. His fingers played with the folds in her shirt, slowly drifting underneath the fabric. She breathed in a sharp, quiet breath when his nails dragged softly on the bare skin of her stomach, fingers splaying wide. He drew invisible patterns below her naval, centimeter by centimeter trailing further up her torso, toward her chest. He breathed hotly against her neck and ear, lips then trailing to her shoulder.

But as his lips parted, teeth bared to tease the skin there… the door slammed open.

"I SAID NOT IN THIS ROOM, YA SICKOS!"

"W-We were just taking a nap!" Dreamer said defensively, as she sat bolt upright.

"Listen, Dreamy, I had a fiancé once, you's remember? I knows all about 'just takin' naps.' Now, get the hell out!"

"Ignore him, Dream. He's jealous." Macbeth stood and ushered her to the door.

"I ain't jealous, I'm disgusted! Can't wait to get away from you's lovebirds…" He grumbled incoherently as he slammed the door behind them.

She looked sheepishly up at Macbeth when they were alone again.

"What now, sweet Dream?" he lulled, the slightest smirk on his lips. "We could go to the garden?"

She swallowed nervously, as her stomach exploded with butterflies. Kissing Macbeth in the garden as the sun set…? Her head swirled with ideas that made her cheeks turn bright red.

"Mm, I can tell you're interested…" He brought his face closer to hers, ghosted his fingertips up her arm.

Of course, she was. She'd have to be insane not to be. Macbeth wasn't always this touchy-feely, but…

She thought of Carla's vision, and any excitement she'd been feeling was doused with cold water.

"Actually…" she took a half-step back. "I'm really hungry. I think I'll go get something to eat."

Macbeth narrowed his eyes. His dark lips took on a pout. "Did I do something to upset you, Dream?" He cocked his head slightly, as he considered her pink eyes. He seemed to be wracking his brains to remember if he'd teased her too much or pushed her too far or been generally cold to her in the past few days, but he came up dry.

"No, of course not!" She quickly countered. "I'm just hungry, honest!"

She winked. Trust.

"Hm." He turned his back on her, and opened the bedroom door again. "I need to shower anyway."

His pouty response to rejection was endearing, and it would have made her giggle, if she could.

"Goodnight, Macbeth."

"…" He shut the door behind him.

Exhaustion settled on Dreamer immediately. Keeping up an act was hardest in front of Macbeth most of all. He made her so vulnerable…

She sighed heavily, then dragged her feet down the hall to leave the boys' building. Her head buzzed with the same conflicting thoughts, feelings, and indecision.

What do I do? What do I do?

She turned the corner and started for the exit. Someone else was about ten feet ahead of her, walking with purpose through the doors.

Oh, it's just Mest.

Mest.

She stopped in her tracks. She had heard that Wendy would be accompanying him to Tenrou Island, and she could remember that he was in the trial last year, but other than that, she couldn't remember much else about him.

She thought back to lunchtime, when she'd been eating with a few of the girls, to include Wendy and Carla. Wendy had been talking about the mysterious member. There was something she'd said that had gotten Dreamer's attention, but what was it? Dreamer had been so distracted by the fog in her own mind, that she'd already forgotten…

Her feet trudged out the door, after the man. He was walking hastily in the snow, hands buried in his pockets, headed toward the river.

She suddenly remembered. Wendy had mentioned that Mest knew Mystogan well—that, in fact, he had been his apprentice.

How could she have missed it?

She followed behind the man for a few blocks, keeping her distance as they trudged through snowy streets and along the river. He walked under a bridge, into the shadows, then slowed to a halt. Dreamer paused, as well, maybe ten feet behind.

"Can I help you with something?" He looked back over his shoulder. "You've been following me for a while now. Is there something you want to say?"

She stood still, staring at him as the icy wind whipped her hair.

"I'm sorry," she smiled. "I didn't mean to surprise you."

"No harm done," came the measured response and return smile. "Come here, out of the wind, and we can talk."

She had a moment of pause, knowing he was luring her into the dark. She swallowed the lump in her throat and strode forward with confidence, joining him under the bridge.

It was darker out of the glow of streetlights, but she could still make him out well. A slender man with narrow features, a shaved head, thin eyebrows, and a pronounced scar along the left side of his face. Most importantly, she could see the muted green of his eyes.

Her memory told her that she recognized this face, that she was familiar with the sight of him. But…

"Hello," he greeted her kindly. "And you are?"

She continued to smile, eyes locked on his. "I'm in Fairy Tail, too. You probably don't know me. We've never talked before."

"Ah, I see." He nodded. "I also tend to be gone on jobs more often than not, so I don't really know all the newer faces in the guild. My apologies."

"Oh, it's okay!" She grinned brilliantly. "I understand! After all, Mystogan wasn't around the guild very often, either!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, which might have looked like an action to guard himself, if not for the kind, friendly glow on his face.

"That's right." He cocked a grin. "He's the one who taught me to be secretive and humble. He really was the best mentor a guy could ask for."

"I bet he was."

A moment stretched between them. Both wizards smiled falsely at one another, though their bodies were as frigid as the night.

"I find it kind of strange, though…" Dreamer tilted her head slightly, as she continued to stare into his gaze. "Mystogan never told me he had an apprentice. Actually, he mentioned quite a few times that I was his only real friend here."

Mest's thin eyebrows raised in a brief flash of surprise. He quickly regained composure, his smile widening.

"He was pretty secretive. I don't think he liked people knowing he had an apprentice."

"You're a liar."

His lips parted in shock. Dreamer took a threatening step forward, crossing her arms over her own chest. "Mystogan and I were close. You must not have done your research. It was smart, though, using him as your scapegoat while you manipulated the rest of the guild. I almost fell for it."

The imposter's smile fell.

"I knew you were lying, but it was harder to figure out what kind of magic you were using. I tried to remember everything I knew about you, and realized that I couldn't remember anything at all, except for what everyone else remembers. That's what gave it away. You manipulated the memories of everyone in Fairy Tail."

She left out the fact that her own abilities in deception made it easier to detect a magic that manipulated perception.

Mest stared at her in shock and frustration. She kept her eyes locked on his, and willed up her magic.

Trust. Guilt.

His eyelashes flicked slightly, and he cleared his throat. "You caught me." He threw his hands up, then narrowed his eyes sharply. "I must have overlooked some details about Mystogan. So… now what happens?"

She swallowed another nervous lump, and kept her head held high in confidence, in control. "Who are you? And what should stop me from turning you in to Master Makarov right now?"

He blinked, as if debating whether to answer—but she didn't release her charm, just continued to will guilt and helplessness onto him.

"Honestly…" he sighed. "I'm with the Magic Council. Believe it or not, I'm not here to hurt anyone in your guild, just to collect evidence. Fairy Tail has been getting away with too much, lately, and the Council is fed up with it. They're looking to incriminate the guild once and for all. I'm only here to keep an eye on you people during these S-Class trial. And, as far as turning me in… Well, I can't stop you. It's my fault I screwed up, and I'll have to deal with the consequences. Damn… there goes my promotion."

She could feel his sincerity. Satisfied, she finally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All the indecision and internal conflict she'd been dealing with stirred and boiled in her mind. After a long moment, she looked back up at him.

"I want to make a deal."

The temperature seemed to drop even further after these words.

"A deal?" He cocked his head, causing his dangling earring to sway.

"I… won't turn you in. On one condition." Her face was serious, fists clenched in determination. "You will manipulate the guild member's memories so that they think I'm supposed to be with them on the boat headed for Tenrou Island."

He raised an eyebrow, and scanned her over. "You want to lie to your guildmates to participate in the trial?"

"No." She shook her head, fiercely. "I don't want to compete. I just need to be there on the island. Can you do that?"

He chewed his lip, eyes flicking back and forth between hers.

Trust. Trust. Trust.

"If I do it… you'll keep quiet about the Council?"

"You have my word."

He pondered for another moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright. I can do that. You must have your own reasons."

She let out a puff of air, relieved. This was it. The choice had been made. She would go to Tenrou Island and check out Carla's suspicions for herself.

"Thank you, Mest. Or whoever you are." She took a step past him.

"Wait."

She froze, and glanced over at him again.

"You…You're Dreamer Cumula, aren't you?"

Dread plummeted in her stomach. She swallowed hard. "I don't…"

"Yeah, you're definitely her." He put his hands on his hips, a dark expression clouding his face. "You charmed me into telling you the truth."

She faced him again, standing her ground even though chills from more than the cold now shuddered through her body. "Does that matter? I know who you are, now."

"And I know who you are." He scowled. "Dreamer Cumula, charm magic user. You've been on our list for a long time. You know it's illegal to use that kind of magic, don't you?"

"But I don't use charm items, I—"

"Which is the only reason we haven't arrested you already. That, and you have the protection of Makarov on your side. That's not your only offense though, is it? You're the one who harbored a criminal member of Oracion Seis. You didn't really think we'd forget about Midnight, did you? Rumor has it, Cobra's hiding under your roof, too."

She nervously played with the sleeves of her coat, as she desperately searched for a way out of this confrontation.

"I-I don't know who—" she started.

"Right. Macbeth and Erik, not Midnight and Cobra." Heavy sarcasm dripped from his frown. "Save it. You think the Council doesn't see through that feeble excuse?"

"So?" She was shaking, but did her best to remain tall and proud. "Are you going to arrest me?"

Time splintered between them.

"Dammit." He scowled and looked at the ground, teeth clenched in frustration.

"You can't turn me in," she said, guessing at his thoughts. "Because you'd blow your cover, and you really need to go to Tenrou Island, don't you?"

A breeze fluttered the tail of his red and yellow striped coat.

"Damn," he repeated. "Lahar would have my head for this… Tricked by a charm wizard…" He put his fingers to his temples and sighed. "…You said you need to get to Tenrou?"

She nodded. "I do."

"…Fine." He straightened up, and faced her. "I'll help you. With my memory reconstruction and your charm magic, it will be no problem getting your guild members to think you're supposed to tag along. Don't blow my cover, and I won't arrest you."

Dreamer nodded, gravely. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." His turquoise gaze was harsh. "We might have an agreement right now but, after this trial—"

"You'll turn me in?" she finished for him.

"I might be able to get you a pardon for cooperating with an investigation. But as for your murdering friends…"

She winced at his word choice. "You still intend to arrest Macbeth and Erik," she stated.

"They were never going to get away, Miss Cumula. You have to know that."

The weight of this knowledge was an anchor, tied around her chest. It was foolish to think that Makarov's protection could extend that far. It had always been only a matter of time…

She shook her head, very slowly. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," she said, firmly. "For right now… You and I are allies."

He stared at her for a long moment, then gave a brisk nod. He held a hand out to her. She took it, squeezed, and shook his hand, setting the deal in place. Then, their hands returned to their respective pockets, leaving the agreement hanging in the icy air between them.

They stood awkwardly, for a long moment. It could have been a few seconds, or maybe minutes. What was time, when deals were being made—deals that would determine the future, the fate, the turn of events in time itself? What was this agreement but a tick on a clock, signifying a point in a countdown until time would shatter? A single splinter in time, unimportant in the moment—yet, when combined with the weight of all these little moments, the tiny splinters, would result in a complete crack in the wood? A complete break of time…

Three more days until the shatter.

---

3 Days

Dreamer had no way of knowing when or if Mest had used his magic on the guild members until early afternoon the following day. She was finishing a stack of Team Derelict Heart job reports to turn in to Freed. The menial task kept her distracted, at least somewhat, from the hurricane of thoughts that threatened to drown her. She was chewing on a pencil eraser, trying to add up the damages they'd caused on a recent job, when Levy took a seat next to her with her own stack of papers.

"Hey, girl." The bluenette smiled brightly as she tapped the stack on the desk before her. "Let me guess, you're filling out Macbeth and Piper's paperwork again?"

Dreamer sat the pencil down and gave a wan smile. "How did you know?"

Levy held up an entire binder labeled 'Gajeel Redfox.' "Believe me, D, I know your pain." She sat the binder down and pulled out a pen. "I'm trying to cram in a bunch of work before we go, too! Are you excited?"

Dreamer blinked a few times, uncomprehending. "Sorry?"

"The S-Class trial, silly! Are you excited that you get to be there?"

It took Dreamer another moment for the words to sink in. Then, she quickly plastered on a smile and beamed brightly at her friend. "Oh, yeah! Of course!"

Levy pushed her bangs back with her headband and put on her glasses. "I guess it's easier for you. You don't have to worry about competing. I'm so nervous that I feel like I'm going to puke."

Dreamer forced a giggle, and nudged Levy with her elbow. "Are you sure you're nervous about competing, or about looking good in front of someone?"

The other girl's cheeks flushed bright red. "I-I-I don't know w-what…"

"You don't have to be shy, Levy," she teased. "My boyfriend is Gajeel's best friend. I'm in the loop."

"Y-Yeah, but…" she twirled hair around her finger, shyly. "A-Anyway! Master must be expecting these battles to get pretty intense if he's bringing you along!" She scrambled to change subject.

Dreamer had no idea what memory Mest had planted in everyone's head, so she had to be careful. "Yeah, you're right!" she agreed, wholeheartedly, as she slid her paperwork into a manila file.

"I mean, what are you going to do if you have to try to calm Natsu down in mid-battle?"

Dreamer thought about it. It seemed like… Mest had manipulated the guild into believing that Makarov had chosen to bring Dreamer along to help if the fights got out of hand. Maybe as some sort of referee. She had to give him credit. That was a viable excuse.

"Natsu's easy," Dreamer said, casually. "He always forgets that I can charm people, so he falls for it every time." She laughed, quietly. "I'm more worried about getting stuck trying to calm Erza down… She's too level-headed. She'd know in a heartbeat if I was trying to charm her!"

Levy shuddered. "Oooh, girl, you're so right."

And so it went. They chatted for a few minutes about what they expected the trial to be like, and whether Levy had a real chance to win. Dreamer teased her mildly about finding time to sneak off with Gajeel during the trial, to keep up her carefree, happy façade. Then, she turned in her file and bid Levy goodbye.

As she left the guild hall, she passed Mest in a doorway. They shared a look—a brief nod. The deal was still in effect and each of them was carrying his or her weight.

---

That night, after tucking Syllest in for the night and hugging Mirajane, she began to pack her bag. Just a couple of nights worth of clothing, a swimsuit, extra pairs of shorts. Then, she sat on the edge of her bed and tried to plan for the worst. If Resmond really was there… She'd confront him, see for herself that he was there and ask him what he wanted. But, she wouldn't be totally stupid. She'd have a flare ready just in case, to call for help. Gildarts, Erza, Mirajane, and Master would all be close by, along with some of Fairy Tail's strongest members. There was no way Resmond could stand a chance against all of them. She planned it all out, the distance she would keep from the dangerous man, when she would call the alarm… if she even needed it. If Resmond even showed up. Carla hadn't seemed too concerned lately. There was a lingering sense of uncertainty about her, but also excitement and hope. Dreamer chose to cling to those feelings. Excitement. Hope.

She stayed awake deep into the night, planning. Not just how she would handle Resmond, but what she would say to her guildmates at the Port of Hargeon. How she would charm Makarov, the most likely to see through her charm. And, perhaps most importantly, how she would explain herself to Macbeth if he ever found out what she'd been up to.

Macbeth…

She thought about what Mest had said. The Council would come for him. She'd have to tell him as soon as she got back. There was no way Fairy Tail would let them take two members away, but they also couldn't go to war against the Magic Council over a couple of ex-assassins. They'd have to figure out a way to keep Macbeth and Erik safe. They might have to send them into hiding for a little while. What would Dreamer do then? Travel with Macbeth to some safe-place until the Council gave up?

If that's what it comes to.

But she didn't have the energy to worry about that now. It was exhausting enough, worrying about one day at a time. Worrying about Tenrou Island and Resmond. The Magic Council issue could wait until afterward. There would be an afterward, after all.

Wouldn't there?

---

2 Days

Everything was going smoothly. No one suspected Mest or Dreamer. It was common knowledge that Dreamer was going to Hargeon with the others. Dreamer and Piper, along for the ride. Even Makarov remembered making this decision.

Mest was very good at what he did.

Two more nights. Tonight, tomorrow, and they'd leave the next morning. Never had a day seemed so immense to Dreamer—looming over her like a fifty-foot tidal wave that she was walking straight toward. Every minute, a step closer to the wave. There was only forward. The steps were time, and time didn't pause or move backward. Time led her to the destination.

It was afternoon. It was warmer outside today, because the sun had been out since dawn, undisturbed by even a single drifting cloud all day long. Now, that warm sunlight shone in through a guild window, creating a puddle of light on a bench in the hall. Curled on that bench like a cat basking in the sun, was, of course, Macbeth.

He was sitting cross-legged, head down, sunlight gathered on his dual-colored hair. He was using his rolled-up magic-carpet as a pillow, balanced on his knees, his forehead resting against it. The steady rise and fall of his back indicated peaceful sleep, along with the occasional snore and drool. Dressed in the outfit he'd bought in Rose Garden, months ago, to conceal his identity for Dreamer and Syllest's protection. A gray coat, long-sleeved. A white scarf and gloves, black halter top and jeans. Pink-diamond dream catcher hanging below his collarbone.

Dreamer wouldn't admit that this was her favorite outfit for him. Or that it had to do largely in part with how the high fabric of his shirt and low resting jeans exposed so much of his lower stomach and hips.

She leaned against a pillar and watched him for a long time. His steady breaths, the occasional murmur of unintelligible words. It almost seemed like a sin to wake someone like this. So, she didn't. Not right away.

Instead, she joined him on the bench. She felt the warm sunlight cover her shoulders as it did his, and she leaned against his arm. She raised her hand and touched his sleeve, on the place where his Fairy Tail mark was, under the fabric. Then, out of curiosity, her fingers drifted upward, delicately pushing strands of white and black aside so that she could touch his temple. She wondered…

It was a nightmare, but not like before. The feelings of terror weren't prevalent anymore. They were still there, the iron bars, the darkness, the screams. But it was… muted. Numb. And, interlaced through the old nightmare, were pleasant images that disrupted the chaos with peace. Green, rolling fields. Smiling friends. A dancing child.

She watched his sleeping mind like a slideshow.

There were new nightmarish images. These were not as faded as the Tower of Heaven memories that haunted him. Over and over, the image of herself, impaled by diamond before his eyes… Whenever this thought crossed his sleeping mind, Macbeth mumbled out loud and tensed. The hole in her chest. The blood. His breathing grew shallower in the guild hall.

Dreamer was about to disconnect and wake him up, because she could feel his terror spiking at these memories. But then, pleasant dreams interrupted once more. A heat, a fiery and powerful emotion weaved through images of herself on a hospital bed. An emotion like an ache as he dreamed of kissing her, tasting her, his hands on bare skin. Memories giving way to fantasy. Her blouse coming unbuttoned, a sigh of pleasure, more skin…

She gasped and dropped her hand, steam rising from her red cheeks. She fanned herself off in panicked embarrassment.

There was a chuckle from nearby as Gray walked down the hall, past them. "What did you expect?" the ice-wizard commented. "He's a guy."

"I don't need your opinion!" she hissed, still blushing from head-to-toe.

Macbeth stirred and let out a yawn. Dreamer pointedly scooted two feet away from him on the bench as she regained composure.

Note to self: no more dream-peeking on Macbeth…

"Mn…" He stretched his arms into the air as he woke up. "Dream?" He glanced over at her through sleepy eyelashes and blinked a few times. A smirk quickly settled on his dark lips. "What a coincidence."

She giggled nervously, fighting the ever-present blush. "H-Hey, Macbeth! You're awake!"

"Were you waiting for me?" He cocked his head slightly, red eyes twinkling.

"I…" She gulped, then met his gaze evenly. "Yes. I was."

He clearly wasn't expecting this response, because his eyebrows raised sharply and his cheeks took the slightest tinge of pink.

"What do you want?" He asked, in a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"I… was hoping you'd take a walk with me. Just the two of us."

He regarded her with suspicion, one eyebrow raised. His swirling eyes combed her over, taking in her outfit—a heavy coat, pants, and boots, clearly worn for walking in the snow.

"Now?" he asked.

"If that's okay with you?" she caught his eyes. Trust me.

His bottom lip jutted in a pout. "Do we have to go on a walk? There are plenty of indoor things we could do if you just want to be alone with me." Though this was not said with the edge of a smirk, it still made her cheeks feel hot again.

"Come on! When's the last time you got exercise, anyway, Macbeth?" She put on her biggest, most charming smile.

"I exercise in the gym with Gajeel," he countered.

"Okay, when's the last time you got sunlight? And not through a window?"

He opened his mouth. Paused. Closed his mouth. Then scoffed and turned his head. "Fine. I'll let you drag me through hell, sweet Dream." He mumbled and finally stood up. "I'm bringing this." He put the rug under his arm.

"W-Why?" Dreamer sweat-dropped at the sight of the flying device.

"To threaten you with if you try to make me do something stupid," he said, seriously.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" She put her hands up defensively. "It's just a walk, Macbeth!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Easy for you to say. It's cold. And bright. And you accuse me of being a sadist."

"Oh, stop being dramatic." She laughed for the first real time this entire week, and hooked his free arm with hers. "It will be fun!"

It was chilly outside, but not unbearable. In fact, in direct sunlight, it almost felt like too much to be wearing a coat. Macbeth walked beside her, a slight step behind, allowing her to lead the way. He didn't ask where they were going, just walked in silence, albeit with a pout buried under the fur of his scarf.

Dreamer hummed quietly, a tune that Rosy used to sing to her in the orphanage, and when they lived together, before…

It was a song about time magic. She would sing it to comfort her little sister, to tell her that everything had meaning—every small moment, every splinter.

Like these moments with Macbeth, walking silently side-by-side, down the streets of Magnolia.

She glanced at him. His red eyes were fixed forward, foggy with deep thought. It used to be, that when he did this, he appeared to be brooding—resenting the dark paths of his life, cursing Fairy Tail, yearning for peace. But these days, his thoughtfulness seemed… calmer. She wondered what he thought about. Continuing to make amends for the crimes he committed as an assassin? His old friends? A family he knew of before the tower, maybe? What had happened to Zero and whether he would seek him out? Or maybe he wasn't thinking of the past, but the future. Maybe he was thinking of life in Fairy Tail, and at Dreamer's side.

She smiled, then took his hand, interlacing her fingers in his. She watched his pupils retract, eyebrows shoot up in shock. She giggled at the suddenly splotchy redness to his face.

"What are you doing?" He snapped his hand out of hers, and carefully avoided eye contact.

"Oh…" she felt the slight bite of rejection. "I'm sorry…"

"Tch." He gave an exasperated sigh. "Don't surprise me like that, unless you want to be hurt," he warned. His tone was harsh, but as he spoke, his fingers brushed hers. He gripped her hand this time, and allowed her fingers to fill the spaces between his.

He had taken his glove off.

They held hands the rest of the way. The winter air couldn't penetrate the warmth of their palms pressed together. Dreamer was giddy, red-cheeked, the entire time she led him. Out of Magnolia and into the forest. Up a hill, to a ridge facing the city.

"Where are you taking me?" he snapped.

"Right here!"

They were in a small clearing. The snow here hadn't melted, and it crunched under their boots when they came to a stop. Dreamer closed her eyes and smiled as she breathed in a deep breath of crisp air. When she opened them, they were wet with emotion. Nostalgia.

Macbeth frowned at her, but didn't speak.

"Do you remember?" she said, in barely more than a whisper. "This is the place where you fought Piper, the night I brought you to the guild for the first time."

Macbeth's eyebrows raised. He looked around the clearing. To him, it was nothing but trees and snow, the backdrop of Magnolia behind them. "You can remember the exact location in a forest of something that happened over half a year ago?" His voice dripped with sarcastic disbelief.

"Of course!" She met his eyes, pink irises standing out brilliantly against the landscape. "That night… It's special to me."

His eyelashes fluttered slightly. He cleared his throat and pointedly looked away.

"You made fun of my laugh," she said suddenly, with a teasing squeeze on his hand.

"What?"

"That day," she explained with a slight giggle. "You said I had a fake laugh."

"Tch." He rolled his eyes. "Of course, you would remember something like that." Quieter, "Typical woman."

Dreamer laughed out loud, the sound echoing off the barren tree trunks. "You're starting to sound like Piper!"

Macbeth didn't say anything for a long moment. When he did speak, his voice was low, with a familiar teasing drawl. He stroked her knuckle, slowly. "I remember something too, Dream."

She held her breath, immediately baited by the seductive drawl. She looked at his devouring red eyes.

"I remember you touching my lips," he said, black lips drawing up in a smirk.

"Y-You do?" Her cheeks flushed with heat, and her lacrima heart pulsed rapidly.

"Your fingers…" he squeezed them for emphasis, "were so soft."

She broke his gaze, taking her turn to clear her throat in embarrassment. "I-I'm sure you didn't care about things like that back then."

The snow crunched as he took a small step closer to her. "You'd be surprised," he said, close enough that she could feel the cloud of breath as he spoke. "No woman had dared touch me like that before you, sweet Dream."

Invisible animals scrambled in her stomach, and she was afraid steam would start to rise from her skin. "…Are you admitting you've never had a girlfriend before?" she asked, teasingly, to break the intensity of the moment.

It worked. He scoffed, lip immediately dropping into a pout. "I'm not even going to respond to that pathetic question."

"Haha," she grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Shut up." He looked away with red cheeks.

Silence ensued. The quiet crinkle of brown leaves in the trees. The chirp of a lone bird somewhere to the right.

"Everything is different now…" Dreamer whispered this, as tears collected on her eyelashes. "Has it really been over six months since I found you? We were enemies back then, and now…" she sighed happily at the sensation of her hand in his. "We've come so far, haven't we?"

"Dream…"

She gasped when his fingers suddenly gripped her chin. He tilted her head and turned her so that she was looking at him. His eyes flicked back and forth between hers, a look of consternation painted on his face. Searching for something.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, seriously.

"I-I…" Panic erupted in her chest. "I just wanted to spend some time with you, Macbeth. That's all."

The look on his face said that he didn't believe her. He cocked his head slightly, causing a white braid to fall from his shoulder. His eyes narrowed even further. "You're lying to me, Dream," he said, darkly. "You've been hiding something."

Her lips parted in shock. She shook her head, too rigorously. "N-No! I really…"

"Even you're not this sentimental," he scoffed, gesturing at the clearing. "It's almost like…" he bit his lip in thought. "…you're regretting something. Something you did or you're going to do. Am I wrong, sweet Dream?"

She'd thought she could trick him? She thought she could keep her secrets away from Macbeth, of all people? The one who made her most vulnerable of all? The one who's gaze could strip her to the bone and reveal everything—all her secrets and lies?

Maybe it was better this way. She should have been honest with him in the first place. If she told him the truth, she wouldn't have to bear all this weight on her own. She knew he would help her.

"Macbeth… I…"

I can't.

Trust. Trust. Trust. Love. Desire. Confusion. Trust. Trust. Trust.

"I really just wanted to be with you," she said, as she poured the emotion into him. "I'm not hiding anything, I just…" she smiled sheepishly as she lied. "I love you."

His cold expression shattered. He blinked twice, an expression of confusion passing over his face, then relief, immediately followed by a warm intensity and a smile.

He was successfully charmed.

"I see…" His eyes twinkled, all memory of his accusation gone from them. He didn't even seem concerned about the possibility of her lying now. It was like he'd completely forgotten. Now, he was caught up in pink eyes. "You wanted to be romantic."

She blushed, while simultaneously sighing in deep relief. "You got me," she beamed brightly at him. "I wanted to get away where no one would bother us."

"Hm." He dropped his hands to her waist and tugged her closer. "It makes sense," he said, with the edge of a smirk. "Since you're going to Tenrou and leaving me here all alone."

For a moment, she almost had a meltdown. But then she remembered Mest's magic. Macbeth's memory had been altered too. He knew she was going to Tenrou, but he didn't know the real reason why.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm going to miss you."

"Mm." He wrapped his arms tighter around her, and lowered his head. "You want to make the most of our time together, do you, Dream?" His voice was low, breath tickling her ear.

She swallowed nervously, feeling lightheaded at his touch, and the closeness of his lips to her skin. She could only nod in response.

"Oh, Dream…" his lips brushed her ear, then trailed along her jaw, leaving tingles in their wake. "What should we do together?"

"U-Um…" a shiver went through her body. "I just want… to be close to you."

His lips ghosted across hers, but he denied her the pleasure of a kiss there, opting instead for kissing her cream-colored bangs.

"You're teasing me," she pointed out, weakly.

"Always," he smirked wickedly. Then, he dropped his hands to her shoulders and pushed her down. She squeaked in surprise, bracing herself for landing in the snow, but was met with the wool of his magic carpet instead.

"Macbeth!" She gasped in terror, immediately freezing up on the flying device.

"Relax," he said, as he sat next to her on the rug. "It's not even in the air."

"What are you doing?!" In the air or not, Dreamer's fists were still clutching the carpet fringe with white knuckles.

"I'm making our time together more comfortable," he said, smirking. "Is that so wrong?"

She was about to bark out a protest, when she caught the look in his eye. He was making himself comfortable on the rug, looking at her, and holding his hand out. There was tenderness in his eyes, despite the sadistic smirk. And he was reaching for her.

She gulped, set aside her fear, and went to him. He tugged her forward, so that she was sitting on his lap, facing him. Then, he bit a finger on his remaining glove and pulled it off, before taking Dreamer's face in both hands. His eyes searched hers for a moment. She could feel his uncertainty—the lingering, childish fear that was never quite sure what he should do around her. She smiled, and nodded, granting him permission without the words ever being spoken.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, and kissed her.

She followed his lead, deep into this kiss, into this moment of time. She sat aside her fear about Resmond, her guilt for lying to Macbeth's face, and her pride, to indulge in the feelings they held for one another. Long, exploring kisses—breaths of time. It may have been winter around them, but in the space they shared, it was spring. Warmth, light, newness. She cupped his face as her mouth moved with his, fingertips trailing the scar he'd received from Resmond. And he stroked her back while he held her, palm upon one of her own scars. The scars marked a splinter of time where they had been trapped in fear and hopelessness—but they also marked a separate splinter, where trust and love could be found, almost as tangible as the rough edges of a scar.

"Macbeth…" Tears rolled down her cheeks, as her emotions breached the surface. She breathed against his collarbone, shivering despite herself. "I love you." It felt so important to say this now, in this pocket of time. For some reason, she felt that it would be the last time she would say it before she left for Tenrou. So, she needed him to feel it—the sincerity in her tone.

"Sh." He rolled her off him, so they were both laying down on his magic carpet, arms still around one another. He held her close, and kissed her again. He did not return the sentiment, at least not verbally, but that was to be expected of Macbeth. Even indulging in these depths of sentimentality and comfort was unusual for him, but then again, she had prodded him with her magic just a bit.

Dreamer obeyed. She said nothing more as they lie like this. She just smiled and curled up against him, breathing his chamomile scent in the chilly air.

Time didn't exist around them. It was as fluid as seconds passing in midsleep. Like they were dreaming together and, in one sense, they were. Dreaming of many more moments like this in the future. Endless opportunity, ample time to embrace, to express love in ways other than words. They were caught in mid-dream, peacefully sharing this pocket of time.

Time… There seemed to be so much of it.

---

The Last Night

Dreamer sat on the edge of the eight-year-old's butterfly-patterned bed, and brushed the child's hair.

"It's not the same, brushing your hair when it's so short," she commented, as she flattened a wet lock. Regardless, she had combed through Syllest's hair at least a dozen times, just to enjoy this moment spent together. At the same time, Syllest was combing the black hair of a little doll.

"Mom, how long are you going to be gone?" she asked.

Dreamer sat the hairbrush down, which was the cue for Syllest to climb into bed. Dreamer pulled the sheets back for her, then tucked them over her small body after the child had snuggled down into the bed.

"It should only be a few days," she answered, smilingly. "It depends on how long it takes everyone to complete the trial."

"I wish I could be there!" Syllest sat up straight, her pink eyes bursting with excitement. "I want to see Auntie Mira fight! OH! No, I want to see Erza fight!" Her cheeks turned rosy at the thought of her hero. "She's so cool, Mommy… I want to be just like her when I grow up."

Dreamer laughed and rolled her eyes. "I have a feeling the two of you will be very similar."

Syllestra beamed under this praise, then sank back below the covers. She tugged her doll onto her chest. "Does this mean Grandpa Jezran is gonna stay here and watch me?"

Dreamer nodded. With both herself and Mira gone, someone had to be the girl's caretaker.

Syllest's bottom lip jutted in a pout. She looked pleadingly at Dreamer, black eyelashes fluttering. "Can Dad stay instead?"

The older woman felt her lacrima heart stop for a moment. "Dad?"

"Yeah! Macbeth, silly!" She giggled—a sound like chiming bells or birds chirping. "Can he live here while you're gone, instead? He can get me ready for school in the mornings, and brush my hair and pick my clothes out, and he can sleep in your bed, and we can make cookies and he can take me out for ice cream every night and—"

"Haha," Dreamer cut her off with a forced laugh. "You'll… have to ask him about that." She made a mental note to strictly forbid Macbeth from coming to the apartment while they were gone. She had an unwarranted image flash in her mind of him digging through her closet. Her cheeks took color.

"Well, sweetheart," she stood up. "I have a long trip tomorrow and I have to be up early, so—"

"Mom, wait!"

Dreamer paused, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"What is it?"

Syllest's face flickered with complicated emotions. Her lip trembled, as if she was trying to find courage. Out of concern, Dreamer instantly felt for her emotions. Curiosity. Fear.

"Can you tell me about her?"

Dreamer blinked slowly. She sat back down on the bed and regarded the child carefully. "Who?"

"My other mom," she answered, in just above a whisper. "What was she like?"

Dreamer closed her eyes. She felt the strange pulse in her chest, the quickening of her blood. She calmed herself with a slow breath, as she thought. Thought about Rosy and all their years together—the kind of person she'd been, the kind of person she might have become.

Part of Dreamer didn't want to answer. Another part knew that she had to.

"Rosy…" her name always felt light on her tongue, like a cloud that would drift into the heavens where her sister now lived. "She was very special." She opened her eyes and looked seriously at Syllest. She smiled, gently, as she continued. "She was beautiful, inside-and-out. She was a hard worker, and she was always kind."

Syllest drank her words as if they were a potion. Her oversized eyes scanned Dreamer's face, as if they could will out more information.

"Did she have magic?" she asked.

Dreamer opened her mouth, then paused. Finally, "She did."

It wasn't magic in the classic sense. Rosy had never practiced spells and wasn't born with obvious talents. But she did carry magic… It was in that smile. Dreamer had often wondered if Rosy had inherited some emotion magic after all, because something about that smile could put an entire room at ease. It could fill you with hope, even in the dark places. In the cold nights lying together on creaky cots in orphanages. In old, drafty apartments when the electricity had been turned off because bills couldn't be paid. That smile was magic like nothing Dreamer had ever known. Warmer than fire magic, brighter than star magic.

"Do you miss her?" Syllest asked.

Dreamer crawled onto her bed and laid beside her. The child instinctively turned on her side and snuggled against her surrogate mother.

"I miss her every day," Dreamer answered.

Syllest didn't say anything else for a while. She stared at the collar of Dreamer's shirt, lips pursed as if in deep thought. Then, "I would miss you every day, too, if you went away."

Dreamer felt the words sink in. And, for some reason unbeknownst to her, she started to cry.

Syllest reached out and touched Dreamer's hand, giving a comforting squeeze. "Don't cry, Mommy," she whispered. "My real mom isn't really gone."

Dreamer blinked through sobs, trying to make sense of Syllest's blurry face.

"She's still here," Syllest said, with a small smile. She pressed her palm against Dreamer's chest. "In your heart." Her little face screwed up, and she frowned. "Well… you don't have a heart, but…"

Dreamer couldn't help it. She laughed out loud. Hot tears still streaked her face, but she couldn't restrain the freeing laugh.

"Oh yeah!" Syllest was suddenly throwing the blankets off her and sliding off the bed. She skipped to her plastic vanity and picked up a small, velvet box that Dreamer hadn't seen before. Or maybe she had… It might have been in Mirajane's room at some point…

The child ran back to the bed and dove under the covers once more, before holding the box out to Dreamer.

"What's this?" She took the proffered gift.

Syllest didn't answer, just stared expectantly at her, bright eyed and rosy.

Dreamer opened the box, and inhaled sharply at what was inside. It was a pink-diamond heart, perfectly rounded, a feat that was incredibly difficult for maker wizards who manipulated hard substances to accomplish.

"I know that bleeding guy already gave you a new heart but…" she looked hopefully at her. "I made you another one! Just in case yours gets broken again."

Dreamer choked on another wave of tears. She threw her arms around Syllest, and tugged her hard against her chest, crying into her hair.

"Thank you, Syllest. Thank you, so much."

"You're welcome, Mommy," Syllest hugged her back. "I love you."

---

The Day

"Hurry up, Dreamer~" Mira called from the living room. "We don't want to be late!"

"I know, I know!" she called back to her friend. "I'm trying to get Syllest ready for school!"

The raven-haired girl was dancing in circles with a yellow backpack, singing about how she couldn't wait for Christmas break.

"Okay, okay, let's go!" Dreamer ushered her out the door, while carting her own suitcase for the trip.

Waiting on the sidewalk were Romeo, Macbeth, and Jezran.

"Romeo!" Syllest ran straight to her friend, immediately rambling on about something. Dreamer sat her suitcase down with a huff, as she faced Macbeth and Jezran.

"Thank you for watching her while I'm gone," she said, breathlessly. "Pops, I know you know when bedtime is and when to take her to school and everything, but you…" She turned on Macbeth with a sinister expression. "You're only allowed to take her out for ice cream once. And do not send her to school with makeup on. It's okay if she wears it for fun around the guild or home or whatever, but she's still too young to be wearing it to school. And no, she cannot sit in with you while your band practices, because she doesn't need to hear that kind of language and I'd rather her not be deaf by the time she's twenty. I'm serious, Macbeth, stop looking at me with that stupid smirk, you know she's going to beg to be there, and you're not allowed to give in to her begging. You have to be firm, she needs direction in her life otherwise she'll go crazy. Remember that time when no one could find her for hours and she was hanging upside down from the Sola tree because she'd been trying to catch squirrels? Yeah, don't let that happen."

Jezran chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Dear me, Dreamer. Do not fret, I will watch both children." He cast Macbeth a twinkling gaze.

She gasped when Macbeth suddenly tugged on her wrist, pulling her away from the old man. He tugged her roughly against him, causing unanticipated flutters to explode in her abdomen.

"Stay." He commanded, in a low voice against her hair. "They don't need a referee. You can still stay with me."

Stay with me.

Her breaths were shallow, her cheeks hot.

Stay with me.

She could. She could forget this whole thing. Carla's prophecies, the possibility of running into Resmond on Tenrou island. She could stay with Macbeth and Syllest.

"I…"

She imagined his arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest in her apartment with Mira gone. She imagined possible nights with him, his closeness, his scent. All she had to do was stay, and those dreams could become reality. Those sweet dreams…

"I won't be gone that long," she said, with sudden finality. "You'll have plenty of time with me when I get back."

She reminded herself that that time might be spent on the run from the Magic Council, but it didn't matter. She had to keep her priorities straight.

Macbeth pouted, just slightly, then let her go.

"Do I get a goodbye kiss?" she asked.

"No."

She laughed, having fully expected this response. And since she'd been expecting it, she'd already planned how she would respond. While he was still smirking with all the pride of thinking he'd flustered her again, she stood on her tiptoes and crushed her mouth on his, taking him by surprise. It was little more than a peck, but when she plopped back on her heels, Macbeth's eyes were wide and his cheeks pink. Now, it was Dreamer's turn to give a victorious grin.

"Tch." Macbeth huffed, and pointedly looked away, crossing his arms over his chest as the blush touched his ears. "Go away. I don't want to see your stupid face."

Dreamer giggled.

"Dreamer! We have to leave now!" Mira said, exasperated, with two bags strapped on her arms.

"Okay!" Dreamer grunted when Syllest slammed into her without warning, little arms circling her waist.

"I love you, Mom! Hurry and come home so we can play at the park!"

"Alright, alright, I will!" She ruffled the girl's hair and laughed when she ran back to Romeo's side.

"Yes," Macbeth's voice cooed over her shoulder, with a familiar dark drawl. "Hurry home so we can play, mommy." His lips brushed her neck.

Dreamer gasped and quickly stepped away, all the while shivering and blushing head to toe. "And that is my cue to leave."

Macbeth smirked, seemingly satisfied that he'd had the last victory of the day.

Dreamer picked up her suitcase and met Mira on the street. "Bye, everyone!" She waved, grinning brightly at the faces of her family. Macbeth, Jezran, Syllest… Some of the most important faces she'd ever had the luxury of seeing during the time she'd had in this life.

The fragile, splintering time.

---

The sky was blue. Seagulls flew overhead, their calls sounding in the air as banners fluttered in the breeze. The ship was waiting for them at port, all the Fairy Tail members who would cross the sea to Tenrou Island. They were smiling, laughing, joking, as the warm sun fought the chilly air. Dreamer and Piper were among them, that fated group.

Dreamer glanced over at Mest as they approached the boat. He caught her look out of the corner of his eye, and gave the smallest nod. Their agreement had held.

One by one, they boarded the ship. She was the last. And before she stepped onto the wooden ladder, she looked behind her. The port of Hargeon stretched up the hillside, bustling with activity. Beyond that, was Magnolia, the home she was leaving behind. But only for a few days.

She felt hopeful. Resmond wouldn't be on the island. The trial would run smoothly, and someone would emerge victorious, and then she would return to her family, breathing a sigh of relief.

With these thoughts comforting her troubled mind, she stepped aboard the ship.

The wood of the ship creaked as it broke port and drifted into the open sea. The wooden planks, swaying and cracking, reminiscent of the trees they once were. Trees, swishing in the breeze, with overlapping branches stretching in all directions, like the tree on Tenrou Island—like the tree of time.

Time was about to branch in two directions, as it often does. And like ants scurrying on the bark, the break in time would separate them. Splintering, shattering time.

A few days.

Seven years.

Dreamer and Piper were headed for Tenrou Island.

Jezran, Macbeth, and Syllest were not.

And so, Time splintered.

---

A/N: And that's it~ The final chapter of One Sweet Dream. I look forward to your thoughts and reviews about this entire story (to include your hatred toward me for this ending). Please, let me know what you think, what this ride has been like for you, and what you expect to happen in the sequel! Your responses are more important now than ever, while I'm still constructing the plot of the upcoming story to follow.

Thank you all, so much, for coming this far with me. It's been an entire year, and I would never have been this dedicated to a story if not for the positive feedback I received along the way. You are amazing readers, and I am honored to have taken up a bit of your time with this story, which has become so close to my heart.

Stick around for my post-fic Extra Content, if you'd like, while I work on the sequel! I won't be posting twice a week now, but I'll try to keep you entertained in the interim while I work hard on continuing Macbeth and Dreamer's adventures.