A/N: Hello, friends! Thank you for sticking around to read my EC's, and for waiting patiently for the sequel to drop! You are truly the best readers I could ever ask for.
This EC is especially for you Dreamogan shippers. You asked for one more Dreamogan scene, and here it is~ It's cringey, it's sappy, and hopefully it will quench your shipping thirsts.
Also, to those of you who have been stirred up by all the Middream flirting in the past couple of EC's, asking me for a Middream lemon... Cool your jets. I'm thinking about it, but it won't be until the sequel, if I choose to post it (Middream wasn't made "official" before she left for Tenrou Island). You might just get your wish, if you stick around for the sequel~ There's also a possibility that I will post it separately from the main fic, itself, to preserve a rated T rating for the story, and out of respect to any readers that aren't interested in a tangled up Middream. ;) We'll talk about this again at a later date. In the meantime, enjoy all the steamy bits I'm throwing in these EC's.
The King and His Dream
The repairs to the Royal City were running more smoothly than anyone had anticipated. With the help of the Fairy Tail guild, and the hopeful spirit instilled by their new king, the residents had already rebuilt nearly 3/4ths of the city. Despite the complete loss of magic in Edolas, the streets were filled with laughter. The Royal City stood as a shining example of how destruction can breed unity, under the right circumstances and the right leader. Of course, there was pain and suffering as inhabitants struggled to adjust to the major changes in their lives. Particularly in outlying towns beyond the city, where rebuilding was taking longer, and the impact of the Earth Land events was greatest. The government had never been more involved in the lives of its citizens, however. The king ensured that all soldiers were kept busy helping regular citizens. He had appointed an entirely new board of politicians, trusted friends of the people, to make economic decisions for their home regions. Under his rule, the kingdom had entered a new era of prosperity, after ages of fear.
King Jellal was the leader Edolas needed.
As for him, personally, life was stressful. Sleepless nights kept organizing the masses. He aimed to be a king that the people could relate to and trust, after the debauchery of the throne before him. But, in truth, he found himself craving solitude—often yearning for his days in Earth Land, when he would wander alone for weeks at times, disguised, invisible. He missed the peace and quiet. More than that, though, he missed his friends.
He wondered about them every day, all the time. He hoped they were faring well, though he was sure they were just as rambunctious and healthy as always. He missed curt conversations with Laxus. He missed the wise words of Makarov. He missed watching from the balcony as his guild-mates drank and celebrated victories below. He had spent some time getting to know the Fairy Tail of this world, which certainly had its own charm, but… part of his heart would always long for his other home.
It was Sunday, and he had blocked out several hours in the day to sit on the throne and hear the people. Erza Knightwalker stood to his right, Coco to his left. The pink-cheeked girl held a notepad, on which she was quickly scribbling requests from the people. It was Erza's responsibility to advise the king, and keep him informed about the status of the troops available to help.
"Thank you, Your Highness," an elderly man bowed over and over in front of the throne.
"There is no need to thank me," King Jellal smiled warmly. "It's my duty to help you in any way that I can. You can count on a medical team arriving at your village in two days' time."
"Bless you, Your Highness. Bless you!" The man bowed several more times before being escorted from the room.
The King let out a tired breath, his body sore and tired from sitting for so long.
"You should rest, Your Highness," Coco said, worriedly.
"Thank you for caring, Coco, but I am fine." He stretched, then nodded at Erza.
"Next!" Knightwalker bellowed. The doors to the throne room were opened by soldiers, allowing the next citizen to enter.
Two pairs of feet pattered on the stone floor, one lighter than the other. A woman and child approached the throne, heads down. They kneeled before their king.
"Please, stand." King Jellal waved at them. He leaned forward in the throne, placing his elbows on his knees. "How may I—" The words caught in his throat.
The woman had straightened up. She was petite, with long hair that draped over her shoulders. Perhaps that was why he hadn't recognized her at first. There was no mistaking it now, however. Her hair might have been longer, but it was the same shade of cream. And her form, from her stance to her curves, was a shape he knew well. Most of all… the thing that made his mouth go dry and his heart stammer in his chest, was the sunset-pink eyes that blinked up at him.
"Dreamer?"
It was her. Except… no, it was her Edolas counterpart.
The woman blinked in confusion. "I… Ah, yes. My name is Dreamer Stratusa. But… how did you know, Your Highness?"
Erza was looking suspiciously at him from the corner of her eye. King Jellal quickly regained composure. He cleared his throat, and sat up straight in his throne.
"Your name is here, on my list," he smiled politely, and tapped the notepad in Coco's hands. The girl blinked wide-eyed at him. She opened her mouth as if to point out the fact that there was no such list, but was stopped by a harsh glance from Knightwalker. If the king was lying, he must have had a good reason.
King Jellal didn't speak for a long moment. The words evaded him as he took in the sight of her. The sensation of a familiar sting in his chest when she held his gaze. For a moment, he was in the East Forest of Earthland, sitting cross-legged next to a beautiful young woman with her legs dangling in the river. He was lost in pink-sunset eyes, wondering why he felt so lightheaded and warm. She had charmed him, yes, but the power of that spell had been enhanced by something else—the same something he felt now, returning the gaze of Edolas Dreamer.
But he was a stranger to this Dreamer. He reminded himself of this, before shifting his gaze to the child beside her.
"And who might this be?" He nodded in the direction of long, black hair. "Your daughter, I presume?"
"Huh?" Dreamer blinked. "What? No way." She elbowed the child next to her. "I told you people were going to think you're a girl if you didn't cut your hair! Come on, have some manners, say something to the king!"
The child lifted his head. Raven-black hair framed his face, but there was no denying now that he was, in fact, a boy. A boy with brilliant pink eyes.
He looked waveringly at King Jellal for a moment, before tucking his face against Dreamer's shirt.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness." Dreamer gave a strained smile. "This is Sylvester, my nephew. He's just really shy."
The king couldn't help it. He chuckled out loud, thoroughly amused by the thought of Syllestra's Edolas counterpart lacking her boisterous charm. He collected himself again. His lips turned down in a frown when it occurred to him…
"If you're here, you must have a request to make of me." He sat back in the throne, and placed his hands in his lap. "How can I help you, Miss Stratusa?"
Dreamer nodded, determination shining in her eyes. "Your Highness, our town has suffered since we lost magic power. We're located in the forest, and we've had no way to protect ourselves from the monsters. We've been working to build a wall around town to keep the creatures out, but our men can't build fast enough. Monsters keep halting our progress. On top of that, we're running out of resources to build with. If you could just…" she clenched her teeth. "If you could just send some people to help us build, or maybe some soldiers to protect our people until the project is finished… We would be eternally grateful, Your Highness!" She bowed low, showing her desperation for his help.
"I see." The king looked seriously at her. "Have you been in danger, Miss Stratusa?"
She looked up from her bowed position, confusion evident in her eyes. "Me?" She stood up straight. "Um… We're all in danger, Your Highness. But personally… No, I usually stay inside town and watch Sylvester while my sister and brother-in-law work on the wall."
King Jellal closed his eyes in thought. "Knightwalker… Do we have any squadrons available?"
"Yes, Your Highness." Erza answered immediately. "Squadron 8 is available. They are more than equipped to handle protection of the townspeople while they rebuild."
"Excellent." The king opened his eyes. "Prepare them for departure, at once."
Dreamer's eyes lit up. She grasped her nephew's hand, and grinned down at him. "I told you he'd help us, Sylvester!" The little boy nodded vigorously.
"And one more thing, Erza," the king continued. "Please tell Byro to delegate my duties for a few days."
Knightwalker blinked in confused shock. "Excuse me, Your Highness?"
"I'd like to accompany Miss Stratusa back to her town, and oversee this project personally."
Dreamer cocked her head slightly, her confusion matching the red-head's.
"There is no need for that, Your Highness," Erza said, somewhat haughtily. "The squadron can handle—"
"I am afraid that's not a suggestion, Knightwalker." King Jellal chided, gently. "Please. Just do as I ask."
Erza's lips clamped shut. She nodded briskly. "Very well, I'll make preparations." She bowed low before excusing herself from the room. Her lips were pinched tight, but she made no further effort to challenge her king.
"Thank you, Your Highness," Dreamer said, "but… Is there a reason you want to visit our town?" There was suspicion etched on her otherwise gentle features.
"I want to be a king who takes personal investment in the lives of his subjects," he answered, as smoothly as though these were practiced lines. "Unless, of course, you would prefer I stay?"
She blinked several times, as if she couldn't quite comprehend being given this choice. Finally, she shook her head, causing cream hair to fall from her shoulders. "No, it's good. If the king is there, I know the job will get done. All I want is to protect our town." She smiled softly up at him—a gesture that made the breath catch in his throat. "But… just to let you know, my brother-in-law doesn't trust politicians, and he's the one heading the construction project. He won't be happy to see you."
The king smiled back, eyes tracing the shape of those delicate lips. "I'm not particularly concerned about his opinion of me." I care only about yours, he thought.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty…" Coco tugged on his sleeve and tapped the notepad, indicating that he needed to move on to the next citizen.
"Ah, yes." He stretched on the throne. "Pardon me, Miss Stratusa, I have a few more citizens to see today."
"Of course," she bowed low again. "We'll be on our way. Come on, Sylvester," she put her hand on the boy's shoulder and began to turn him toward the door.
"Wait," the king called, suddenly. Dreamer looked over her shoulder, eyes strangely expectant. Or, perhaps that was wishful thinking. "If you don't mind, would you stay in the castle until I'm done here? I would like to discuss some things with you."
"Stay?" She looked uncertainly at the boy beside her. "I don't know… I told Rose that I wouldn't stay in the capital overnight…"
"I understand if you need to leave," Jellal said, carefully. His volume dropped slightly, his tone taking on an edge of longing. "But, I would be pleased if you stay."
The woman chewed her lip. Confliction burned in her eyes—the same uncertain confusion she'd had since the moment the king had called her by name. She didn't answer for a long moment. Then… "Is there free food here?"
The king chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yes, feel free to visit the kitchens and have whatever you would like. You and Sylles—" he cleared his throat. "—you and Sylvester, both."
The boy's pink eyes lit up. He tugged on his aunt's sleeve until she bent down. He whispered excitedly in her ear.
"Scones?" she asked the king.
"Oh yes, all the scones you would like."
"Alright then," she stood up straight and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I guess we can stay a little longer."
"Excellent."
"Come on, let's go raid the kitchen!" She grabbed the boy's hand, then strode happily from the throne room.
King Jellal's eyes lingered on her as she left, all the way until the door had closed behind them. When she was finally out of sight, he closed his eyes and breathed a slow sigh.
"You like her, don't you, Your Highness?" Coco giggled next to him.
"Hm?" He opened his eyes. "Yes, well… She reminds me of an old friend."
"You were pretty smooth~" The girl held up the notepad she'd had the whole time. On it, she had sketched a cartoon image of the king falling off the throne with hearts in his eyes while a cartoon Dreamer waved seductively at him.
King Jellal's cheeks took some color. "I'm glad to see you take your job so seriously, Coco. Now throw that away and bring in the next citizen."
"Whatever you say, Your Majesty!"
The sun was setting by the time the king had finished his business. Despite a sore back, the mild throb of a headache, and the weight of exhaustion, he did not retire to his room to rest. Instead, there was an unusual quickness to his step as he left the throne room. Anxiety thrashed in his stomach as he considered the possibility that she had already left.
Easy, Mystogan, he coached himself. Remember, she's not the Dreamer you left behind.
As true as these words were, they did nothing to slow his pace through the halls. He had to see her again, to hear her voice, to look in her eyes.
I didn't even get to say goodbye, he thought achingly of Earth Land's Dreamer. Well, he did write her that letter, admitting that he'd known all along that she was charming him to get sleeping pills—and… admitting to other things, as well. Admitting to feelings that he thought had been properly buried, until he saw Edolas Dreamer's face, that is.
He caught sight of a member of the kitchen staff, then waved.
"Your Majesty." The woman bowed.
"Pardon me," he nodded politely at her. "You wouldn't happen to have seen a young woman here today? She had a boy with her, with black hair. She's about this tall, with hair the color of vanilla macarons, and eyes like a cotton-candy sunset, and…" he trailed off, realizing too late that his descriptions were… more poetic than usual.
The kitchen worker had an eyebrow raised. She cleared her throat, awkwardly, then gave a brief nod. "Yes, Your Highness, I know who you're talking about. They were here earlier, eating scones. My word, I've never seen a woman shovel so many scones in my life! She had to have had at least ten!"
"Where is she now?" he cut her off, too quickly.
"I think they went out to watch the sunset from one of the balconies. That way." She gestured in a direction, and the king was gone in an instant. "Goodbye, Your… Highness? Hm. Strange. Then again, he is a bit odd."
It didn't take him long to find them. They were leaning against a railing facing the west, watching the clouds burst with twilight hues.
"Excuse me," he said, as he approached from behind.
Dreamer and Sylvester turned immediately. The little boy tucked his head, and hid behind his aunt's back. The woman stood straight, but bowed her head respectfully toward the king.
"Your Highness." She met his eyes.
How ironic, he thought, that the sun should be setting behind her, making her eyes more brilliant than ever.
"Hello? Your Highness?" She snapped her fingers. "Are you okay?"
He cleared his throat, awkwardly. "Ah… yes. My apologies. It was a long day, and I am a bit… distracted."
"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?" she cut straight to the point, a bit of an edge to her tone.
"Yes," he quietly admitted.
"Sylvester, can you go into the hall for a few minutes?" She side-stepped, leaving the shy child unprotected.
He nodded vigorously, clearly hoping to escape the eyes of a stranger, before darting away.
Dreamer turned away from the king to gaze back at the sunset. He took this opportunity to join her—to stand at her side.
"Why are you coming with us?" she asked. Her lips were turned down in a frown, and she pointedly avoided looking at him. This trait was unique to this Edolas version of her. He could not remember a time when Earth Land's Dreamer had ever averted her gaze. Though, that may have been primarily due to her charm spell, which required eye-contact to work.
"I already told you," he started. "I want to be the type of king who—"
"—is involved in the lives of his citizens," she cut him off. "I remember." She turned to face him, her expression distraught. "But why now? Why us? What are you after?"
He smiled, politely, but didn't answer right away. "Truthfully?" He exhaled, slowly. "You simply remind me of an old friend, Miss Stratusa. Your town's plight stood out to me, and I thought I should help personally, out of respect for my friend's memory."
"Oh…" she ran her fingertips along the railing. "What happened to your friend?"
His smile faltered. He closed his eyes to prevent more emotion than was necessary from spilling forth. "She's gone."
"Damn…" She squeaked in surprise at her own outburst, quickly covering her mouth with her hands. "I mean! I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say, and this whole situation is so bizarre, I mean come on, the new king of the Royal City coming with me back to my town, because I remind him of his friend who's gone—and what does that mean, anyway, gone as in she moved to another country or gone as in dead? And I don't know how to feel about being similar to a dead person, and I'm sorry I know I'm rambling but I'm just not good with people, and everyone says I'm too straightforward, and my sister says I'll never get a boyfriend because I'm so not-charming, and gah! I didn't mean to say anything about boyfriends, I'm not saying that I… I swear, King Jellal, I'm just here for my townspeople, I didn't come to be some kind of gold-digger, so just pretend you didn't hear the whole 'boyfriend' part, besides I've had boyfriends, it's no big deal, you know? Oh my god, Your Highness, I'm so sorry, I just—"
The King laughed under his breath, the smile tugging naturally at the corners of his mouth. This, he remembered. This, he missed. Dreamer's nervous or excited rants, her flailing arms, the energetic spark in her eyes as she desperately tried to explain herself. He could listen to her rapid-fire sentences all evening, every evening, for the rest of his life. He might have let her continue, if not for the fact that this was a distressed rant, rather than excited blabbering.
"Mystogan," he said, suddenly.
She paused in mid-sentence, jaw hanging. "Huh?"
"Please, call me Mystogan. There's no need for formalities."
"Myst…ogan?" She tried the word out on her tongue. The sound of his old name formed by her lips was enough to make the hairs on his arms rise. "Isn't that the name you used as a bastard orphan before you revealed to everyone that you were actually Prince Jellal, next in line to the throne?"
He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Bastard orphan? Hm."
"NO! Oh, god, I'm so sorry! I just called the king a bastard, oh my god, I knew someone else should have come to the capital… I should have just sent Rose, instead, she's better at talking to people, ugh, I'm gonna be sick."
"Dreamer," he reached for her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Breathe. I am glad to have met you."
She tensed at his touch, and her lips pinched tightly together. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay."
"Excellent." His arm dropped. "Then, if you don't mind, I have some things I should put in order before we leave. I would like to go in the morning."
"Morning?" She looked over to where the last rays of the sun still strained on the horizon. "I guess I don't have a choice now. Where will Sylvester and I stay?"
He nearly blurted out "my room" before he caught himself. He willed away emotional impulse, then answered. "There are many guest rooms. I will escort you to one, myself."
"Alright, but…" she chewed on her lip. "Do we get free breakfast, too?"
He laughed out loud this time. "Yes. Anything your heart desires."
"Anything?" she narrowed her eyes.
"Yes. More scones? Bacon and eggs? Mustard sandwiches? Whatever you crave, it's yours."
He waited. Hoping. Longing.
"…did you say mustard sandwiches?" she whispered.
"Hm? Oh, yes. Apologies, I meant only to use it to make a point. Of course, I don't expect you to actually want to eat—"
"No, no, no, don't take it back!" There was desperation in her eyes. "You said I could have mustard sandwiches, so you can't take it back! All the mustard sandwiches I want, right? You said it yourself, you, King Jellal, Mystogan, whatever, guy-in-charge-here, said I can have as many mustard sandwiches as I want, right?!"
He chuckled. "Yes, I meant it. If that's what you like, Dreamer, then you can have it."
"Ah, yes!" She clenched her fist in excitement. "Wait til I tell Rose and Res about this!"
He watched the joy exude from her. Childlike excitement, bliss. He felt so strange… It was an intoxicating nostalgia, brought forth from the knowledge that this Dreamer, too, liked mustard sandwiches. It conjured up memories of picnics, plastic containers full of bread, laughter just like this. She had been so beautiful… and she was beautiful now, too—this alternate version of her.
It was a bittersweet feeling. It filled his chest like a balloon ready to burst, but it also scratched at his eyes, drawing forth tears. Happiness, sorrow. Hope, longing. She was Dreamer, in all the right ways, but she was somehow, simultaneously, someone he'd never known before today.
"Mystogan?" Her voice pulled him out of melancholy thoughts. "Are you okay? You look… kind of sad."
"I'm fine, thank you." He nodded, with a wan smile. "Let me take you to that room."
He turned and strode back into the hall. Dreamer collected the child hiding behind a suit of armor, then scurried to follow the strange king of Edolas.
The town was south of the Royal City, about a two-hour ride on horseback. It was around noon when Mystogan, squadron 8, Dreamer and Sylvester, all arrived. The town was tucked deep in the forest, and it was evident that there had once been a magical barrier surrounding it, by the abandoned channeling rods stationed in a circle around it. It was also evident that the townspeople would stop at nothing to rise to the challenge and protect their homes. This was made clear by the number of men and women working tirelessly in the sun, building a nearly twenty-foot wall by hand. They had also constructed watch towers, from which to spot monsters on the ground and in the air.
The King descended from the carriage he'd been riding in, and held his hand out to help his companions. Dreamer ignored this gesture, and hopped out by herself. Sylvester shyly shook his head before following his aunt.
"Come with me," Dreamer said, without looking back. "You wanna talk to the person running the wall operation, right?"
Mystogan followed quickly, though admittedly not out of any real interest in the wall project.
"Listen," her voice dropped slightly when he caught up. "I'm serious when I say he doesn't trust politicians. And he doesn't know that I… Well, I didn't exactly tell anyone I was going to the city for help… If you don't want your squadron kicked out of town, you'll have to play nice, okay?" She glanced at him.
"I understand."
Sylvester ran ahead, as they neared a home surrounded by flowers. His little feet picked up speed when the door opened, and his mother peered out at them.
"Mommy!" He wrapped his arms around the woman's legs.
She was older than Dreamer, with a pixie haircut and rosy cheeks. Mystogan assumed this to be the Edolas version of Dreamer's older sister.
He recalled conversations with Dreamer's Earth Land counterpart. She had been hesitant to say much about her life, until the third time she'd sought him out for a refill on sleeping pills. It had been a dark, clear night, and they sat staring at the calm sea. She'd used her eyes to coerce him into never telling her secrets to anyone, not that she had needed to. Then, she told him bits and pieces of it. Her sister's death at the hands of her brother-in-law. How she had wandered the streets alone with Syllestra for years. She had failed to mention Syllest's relation to her, but it wasn't difficult to figure out.
That had been one of his longest conversations with Dreamer. She'd poured her fears out to him, relying on the safety net of her charm to keep her safe. And he'd spilled some of his own deep thoughts for the same reason. That charm, that lie, allowed them to foster a friendship that defied the normal boundaries they had set in place for themselves. They had been so wrapped up in conversation that night, that she'd almost completely forgotten to ask for more pills. He remembered the sheepish smile, the embarrassed blush as she pleaded with him, and apologized over and over for burdening him so.
He had wanted to kiss her.
"Dreamer Stratusa, where have you been?!" The older sister's voice snapped him back to reality. Rose, the Edolas copy of Rosy. In this reality, she was alive and well.
"I… um… I went to get help." Dreamer answered.
"Sylvester, go take a bath." Rose crossed her arms over her chest, never dropping the accusing glare toward her sister. "You took my son and vanished overnight! Shame on you! We were so worried!"
Dreamer hung her head in shame. "Look, you were both working on the wall, and I didn't think it would take that long… I would have come home yesterday but someone wanted me to stick around."
And just like that, King Jellal became part of the conversation.
"Who is…" Rose's eyes widened as Mystogan and Dreamer got closer. "Is that… Are you…?" She scanned him over, from his dark cape, to his blue hair, and the unmistakable red etching on his face. "The king?!"
"Yup!" Dreamer beamed brightly. "He's going to personally oversee the project, right Your Highness?"
Mystogan nodded. Instinctively, he reached for his mask to cover his exposed face, due to the uncomfortable sensation of unwanted attention—but his hand fell, when he remembered that the mask no longer existed. He couldn't hide behind false identities anymore. Like it or not, he was the king.
"Dream, I…" Rose gaped in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually managed to persuade him to come here." She bowed before him. "Your Highness, I have to apologize on behalf of my little sister, in case she said anything stupid. She's, um… brash, and not very good at empathizing with other people—you know, like emotionally clueless—but she has a good heart!"
"Hey! I'm standing right here!"
He gave a quiet laugh. "There's no need to apologize. I find Miss Stratusa to be quite charming."
It was true, she lacked the social tact and delicate touch of Earth Land's Dreamer, but she had her own, good-natured charm.
"Charming? My sister?" Rose touched her forehead as if she was feeling dizzy. "I need to sit down. Please, come inside, Your Highness."
He followed Dreamer inside the home.
"Well?" The older sister jabbed her inferior in the side. "He's your guest! Tell him to sit down, ask if he wants something to drink, you know? Good manners?"
"I'm not stupid, Rose." Dreamer huffed, then faced Mystogan. "So… There's couches and chairs—"
"I prefer to stand, thank you."
"And if you're thirsty or hungry, we have… Ugh, why am I doing this? Where's Res? Can't we just get this over with?"
"Dreamer!" Rose 'tsk'ed at her. "Your Highness, we're just humble townsfolk, but if there's anything we can get for you, it would be our pleasure."
"You have a beautiful apple tree," he said, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, he's a little spacey," Dreamer said, far too loudly to pass as a whisper.
"Do you happen to have any apples you would be willing to share?"
"Oh, yes! In fact, I was going to make apple pie tomorrow! Let me get you one, I'll be right back!" Rose disappeared in a doorway.
"Hey, I know this is all kind of awkward…" Dreamer said when they were left alone. She stared down at the floorboards, and jabbed at a crack with her shoe. "I'm sorry."
"Please, don't apologize." He smiled warmly at her. "I am enjoying every moment I get to spend with you, Dreamer."
She stared at him, the same look of confused suspicion on her face since their first encounter. "Why are you pretending to like me so much?"
"I'm not pretending," he said.
"Are you crazy?"
"I don't believe so," he answered, levelly, "though many have considered me strange due to my reclusive nature. I think a lot, and I'm not overly fond of people."
"But you're the king."
"It has taken some time to get used to, but yes. I am."
"So, you're a crazy king who likes me for no apparent reason?"
"I'm not sure how to answer that, Miss Stratusa."
The banter was playful in nature, and it might have continued, if not for the sound of the front door opening again.
"I'm home," came a deep voice.
"Oh no, it's him! Look cool!"
"Daddy!" Sylvester's voice echoed from down the hall. The child ran and leaped into the arms of the approaching man.
"Hey, buddy!" The man squeezed his son tight, and let out a happy laugh.
He was tall, with a proud and straight stature. His hair was short, spiky, and black, with one yellow streak along the side.
"Where have you been? Your mother was worried sick, you know?"
"Auntie took me to have scones," came the meek response.
"Yeah? Is she here?"
"Mhm." He pointed toward the living room, where Dreamer and Mystogan stood.
"Hey, kid, you can't just leave with my son in the middle of the—" He stepped forward. Yellow eyes scanned over Dreamer's companion. "Are you who I think you are?"
"Res," Dreamer stepped between them with a nervous laugh. "You're probably thinking this is the king of the Royal City standing in your living room! And, well… you're right! But I can—"
"Dreamer, I told you we don't need help!" He turned on her, baring teeth. "I can take care of my friends and family without some government fraud's help."
Mystogan cleared his throat.
"It's not like that, Resmond! He's good, I swear! He sent a whole squadron to help you with the project! And supplies, too!"
"I don't need his help, sis." His voice was stern. "There are only two things I love in this world. First is my family, and second is my home. And I swore I would do whatever it takes to protect this town with my own hands! How could you get a politician involved, who will probably use our land to churn a profit? Dreamer, you should have stayed home!"
"You're just being proud!" she countered. "We needed help! You said it yourself, that you were running out of supplies!"
"We could have gotten help from another town, we didn't need him! He needs to go—"
"Sh." A feminine voice hushed the man, as arms went around his waist. Rose pressed her lips to his neck. "Would you at least talk to our king before incurring the wrath of the capital, my love?" She held out a shiny red apple to Mystogan, who gratefully took it.
"I understand your hesitation," the king said, humbly. "It seems that you care greatly for your friends."
"That's right." Resmond nodded, seriously. The cutting edge had loosened on his tone, though, since Rose had embraced him.
"I know the feeling," Mystogan quietly said. "I feel just as strongly for my friends. I assure you, I wish only to help your town. I will make no profit from this venture. I want only to serve the citizens of Edolas."
"That's not true," Resmond shot back, lightning eyes piercing through amber. "If you just wanted to help, then why come here yourself? The king wouldn't leave his throne like that unless he was personally invested in something. So, what is it? What do you want?"
Mystogan's eyes naturally flitted to Dreamer. She narrowed her own at this insinuation.
"I knew it!" Resmond flailed dramatically, while his wife struggled to calm him down by massaging his shoulders. "He probably wants to build some temple or something on our land! I knew he had ulterior motives!"
Mystogan chuckled. He raised his hands defensively. "Very well, I will refrain from building my pool resort on your hill." He glanced at Dreamer again. "On one condition."
"Look, he's blackmailing us now," Resmond pouted.
"I would like to spend the evening with Miss Stratusa," he continued, locking eyes with her.
"You… what?" Dreamer's face contorted in further surprise.
"Why?" Resmond, Rose, and Dreamer all said in unison.
"I simply want to spend time with you. That's all."
"Careful," Resmond muttered. "He's probably just trying to collect you for a harem—OW, Rose, that hurt!"
"Sh!" his wife hissed. "Enough with your conspiracy theories!"
"I thought you loved my conspiracy theories," he whined.
"I love you," she giggled. "I tolerate your ridiculous theories."
Husband and wife shared a kiss, while Sylvester hung onto his dad's leg. It seemed that this version of Dreamer's family was the one she had always dreamed of. Mystogan wished, momentarily, that he could tell her.
"Spend the evening…" Edolas Dreamer still couldn't comprehend. "Doing what?"
"You could take me on a tour of town," he gave the premeditated line.
"But I—"
"Come on, Dream," her older sister coaxed. "Good manners, remember?"
"Well, yeah, but…" she flicked her gaze back and forth between the king's eyes. "I… Okay?"
"Thank you," Mystogan said, sincerity in his tone.
"Alright, I guess I'll… see you guys later?" Dreamer frowned at her family.
"We're just going to let her walk out with the king?" Resmond snapped. "If something happens to her, I'll… I'll…" His eyes were beginning to water.
"Oh, stop being so emotional, sweetheart~ She'll be fine. I think he likes her."
"We're LEAVING," Dreamer said loudly, to tune this out. "Come on, Mystogan, let's get out of here."
Mystogan nodded at the couple. "Thank you for your hospitality, and the apple." He smiled. "I truly hope you'll consider allowing my soldiers to help with your project, Resmond." With these parting words, he hurried after Dreamer.
"So, um…" Dreamer walked a few steps ahead, dragging her feet. "There's a park over there. Town hall is that way… I don't know what exactly you want to see."
Just you, he thought.
"There's kind of a cool river that goes through town," she said.
"I like rivers."
"Right…" She sighed, then changed course. She led him North, to a wooden bridge that stretched over a river with purple water. "This is Lavender River, which used to intersect with a waterfall from the floating river, and… Oh. You're the king. You probably already know this stuff." She sighed, and buried her hands in her pockets.
Jeans. Earth Land Dreamer would never have worn jeans. Skirts or leggings, but never such a harsh fabric.
She stared at the water and chewed on her lip. Occasionally, she would glance over at him, while he stared at her. This went on for a few minutes, time marked by the slow moving of the river below their feet.
Then, suddenly.
"Okay, cut it out," she snapped. She turned to face him, pretty face turned down in a scowl. "Stop pretending to like me."
Mystogan was taken aback, but maintained perfect composure. He smiled gently. "I already told you, Dreamer. I'm not pretending."
"I'm not her."
The sentence hung strangely in the air, like fishing line cast into the river below, not quite long enough to reach the rippling waves.
"I'm not sure what you—"
"I'm not stupid, okay?" She crossed her arms indignantly over her chest, and stepped threateningly close to him. "You know I'm friends with a guy from that dark guild, Fairy Tail? His name's Piper, and he told me all about what really happened with that alternate dimension stuff. Something about how there's another world with copies of all of us, and you used to travel there all the time, right?"
His normally refined composure was slipping. He swallowed a lump in his throat, formed by this confrontation.
Dreamer saw this weakness, and pressed herself further forward, standing on her toes to get more evenly in his face.
"You've got me confused with someone else." Pink eyes set in a glare. "Obviously, you used to have some kind of thing with this… other me. And now she's gone, and you think you can project her onto me because we look the same." Her scowl lifted slightly, reflecting a new emotion. Hurt? "That's pretty screwed up, isn't it? Pretending to like someone when you don't even know her?"
His eyes were wide, a slight flush of shame on his cheeks.
"I don't care about how close you were with that other Dreamer. You and me… We're strangers. We're not even friends! So, cut it out! Back off, okay? I don't care if you're the king or whatever! You still don't have the right to… to look at me like that! With those needy puppy-dog eyes, okay?"
Mystogan winced. He made no effort to back away from her, even though she was still braced offensively in his personal space. Instead, he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and released a breath.
"You're absolutely right," he murmured. "I… am deeply sorry, Miss Stratusa."
She plopped back down on her heels with a huff.
"I didn't realize I was… projecting my…" another sigh. "I'm sorry. I had never considered it from your perspective. I'm sure I've offended you. I was thoughtless. I… ah. Usually I am more levelheaded than this. I suppose you reminded me of her so much that I lost my clarity for a moment. I cannot express how sincerely sorry I am." His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Whatever, it's fine." She looked away from him. "As long as you get the point. You can back off now." She put her hands on the bridge railing, officially cutting off conversation with him.
Mystogan stood there for a long moment, his head still hanging. He wished, as in Earth Land, that he was invisible. That he could cast a sleeping spell and disappear, or huddle under layers upon layers of clothing, until his identity was a mystery. Anything to slink away from this moment.
"If you don't mind…" he said, slowly. "I would still like to stay and oversee the construction project."
"Seriously?" She scoffed. "Why? You only came here to try and get with me."
"That's not true," he countered. He finally mustered the courage to look in her eyes again, hoping to communicate his sincerity. "I was not lying when I said that I aim to be a king of the people. I will be true to my word, and see this through to the end. That is… assuming I am welcome."
She tapped her fingers on the railing before giving an exasperated sigh.
"I don't care," she said. "If Resmond says you can stay, then it's fine by me."
"…Thank you."
Her fingers continued to tap, as another awkward silence dragged on. "Listen, I'm sorry if I was rude, I just… you know."
"I do." He nodded. "It cannot be pleasant to be compared to your own shadow."
"Yeah…" Her shoulders slouched a bit. He watched as she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. There was still a lingering expression of sorrow there, perhaps even a trace of longing. It was as if she had hoped to be seen by him for who she was. As if she had genuinely valued his opinion, at least somewhat.
He swallowed again, when her expression dredged up another wave of guilt.
"Dream—" He cleared his throat. "Miss Stratusa… If your brother-in-law allows me to stay, would you…?"
She looked at him with wide-eyes.
"Would you be opposed to spending some time with me in the evenings?"
"I already told you, I'm not her!" Her hands flailed to emphasize the point, and her eyes shimmered with almost-tears.
"I know," he said, quickly. "Is it a sin to want to get to know you?" He pleaded with amber eyes. "I owe you that much, Miss Stratusa. You were right. You and I are strangers. Is it wrong to want to remedy that?"
"That depends." She pursed her lips in frustration. "Do you just want to get to know me because of her?"
"No," he said, honestly. "I see how I erred before. Regardless of any relationship I may or may not have had with Earth Land's Dreamer, I am genuinely interested in you and your family. I can see that you all have pure hearts, and a certain ferocious passion about you. If possible, I would like to earn friendship with you all."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly still suspicious of his motives. "I guess… there's nothing wrong with that." She averted her gaze, and her cheeks seemed more pink than usual. "We can hang out, if Res lets you stay." She glanced at him again. "And if you promise not to be all pushy and flirty with me again, okay? We can be friends."
"Yes, of course." He nodded, finally managing to smile again. "I cannot apologize enough, Miss Stratusa."
Her hostile posture evaporated completely. She smiled warmly back. "You don't have to apologize anymore, Mystogan. I forgive you. And you can call me Dreamer." She held her hand out. "To friendship?"
He chuckled, then shook her outstretched hand. "I hope so, Dreamer."
She released his hand, shoved her own hands in her pockets, and turned away from him.
His heart was heavy after this conversation, but he was also grateful. He was glad to have been put in his place. He reminded himself that this Dreamer was her own person. She may have shared traits with her Earth Land version, but ultimately, she was a separate entity.
He placed any attraction he felt for her at bay, far out of reach. Though, he could not deny that the sight of her hair swaying in the wind, and the curve of her hips, and the pink tinge to her cheeks still elicited warmth from deep inside of him—he chose to respect her, to stifle such feelings.
With a great deal of persuasion and some whispers in his ear by Rose, Resmond was ultimately convinced to let the King and his squadron stay. Though Rose offered a room for Mystogan to stay in, he politely declined, and opted to stay with his squadron. During the day, he accompanied a reluctant Resmond out to the wall. They discussed strategies to keep the town safe, and worked together, laying brick and beams. Each afternoon, he asked Dreamer if she wanted to do something together. She was nearly as hesitant to trust him as Resmond, at first, but she agreed.
This pattern continued for four days. On the fifth day, Coco ran from the Royal City to deliver a message to the king. Well, it was less of a message and more of a desperate plea for him to come home before Knightwalker burned the city to the ground. Mystogan promised to leave that evening.
Now, Mystogan stood in the living room, hand extended to Resmond. The other man grinned, then shook it.
"Are you sure you don't want to return to the city with me?" The King asked.
"I appreciate the offer," Resmond said, gratitude shining in his lightning eyes, "but I'm needed here."
"Yes, I knew what you would choose." Mystogan released his hand, but kept smiling. "Your kindness and devotion are admirable traits, Resmond. I've learned from you."
"You're not half bad, yourself, Your Highness." Resmond beamed.
Heels clacked on the wood floor as Rose walked from the kitchen to join them. "Leaving already, Misty?" She gave a long-lashed wink.
Mystogan gave a harassed sigh. "I wish Dreamer had not come up with such a degrading nickname."
"It's a sign of affection," Rose promised, "Like how she calls Res an idiot."
The man deadpanned.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Rose." Mystogan bowed slightly before the woman. "You have been incredibly kind, and your apple pie is exquisite."
"Which reminds me!" She walked back into the kitchen and returned with a basket full of apples. "Take some home with you, and plant some seeds in the royal garden!"
"I'll make sure to do just that." He nodded in thanks.
"Excuse me," a tiny squeak of a voice called from around the corner. There, Sylvester was leaning out from the dark hallway, hair half-shielding his face. "Can I… say goodbye too?"
"Yes, come on, son." Resmond beckoned him over.
The boy approached slowly, with his head down. He stood awkwardly in front of Mystogan for a long moment.
"Your Highness… Um… Thank you for… talking to me and… reading me a story yesterday…" He wrung his hands in nervousness. "Can you… Will you come see us again?" He finally met the man's eyes, his own pink irises wide with curiosity.
"If your parents will have me, then of course." Mystogan affectionately patted his head. The boy smiled before running back down the hall, out of sight.
"Well, then." Mystogan straightened up. "I suppose I should…" He lingered. There was someone he hadn't said goodbye to yet. Still… She knew he was leaving, and if she wasn't out here, then perhaps she didn't want to see him off.
"Hey." Her voice was a sweet relief. Dreamer walked from the hall, directly past all of them, to the front door. "Come on."
"Dreamer?" Mystogan started toward her, holding his basket of apples.
"Let's hang out one more time before you leave," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Alright," he joined her. "I would like that very much."
He waved to Resmond's family once more, before following Dreamer outside.
"Would you like to sit at the park again?" Mystogan asked.
"No, let's go somewhere more private." She walked ahead.
"…Private?" He trailed behind.
She made no effort to explain herself, just walked toward the gates of town, which Resmond and Mystogan had worked hard to construct. Out, on a pebbled path through the forest, to the shore of the same river they'd stood over on their first day here. Now, they sat near the shore, surrounded by trees and wildlife, away from the bustle of town.
Neither of them spoke. Mystogan offered her an apple from his basket, which she took. They sat in silence, but for the munching of red apples and the sound of the water.
He was the one who broke the silence, when his apple was finished and he sat the core beside him. "I've enjoyed my time here," he said, with a smile.
"Yeah…" she sat her partially eaten apple aside as well. "It's been nice."
"Dreamer… If you ever find yourself in the city, please feel free to pay me a visit. I will gladly make time for you."
"Thanks." She met his gaze. "I think I'll do that."
More silence.
"Very well, then. I should—"
"Mystogan?" She cut him off before he could stand. The expression in her eyes was strange, unreadable. "Do you still like me? Now that you know me, I mean…"
He crossed his legs, getting comfortable again. "Yes, Dreamer, I do. It's true, some things still remind me of your Earth Land counterpart, but I can say with confidence that I've grown fond of this reality's Dreamer, as well. You're bold, straightforward, and still curious and kindhearted. I stand by my initial statement. I think you are quite charming."
She blushed. "I like you, too. You're pretty great, for a bastard orphan, I guess."
He chuckled. "I'm truly pleased that we were able to move beyond our first impressions. I'm happy to have made a friend."
"Yeah…" She looked away. She plucked blades of grass with her fingertips, and chewed her lip in thought. "Do you… believe in things like fate or destiny or god, whatever it might be called?"
He pondered this. Not the question so much as why she had chosen to ask it. He noted the tightness in her shoulders, the way she avoided his gaze, the rosy coloring of her cheeks.
She's beautiful.
He chastised himself for the thought, then answered carefully. "I do."
"Do you think that maybe…" she looked at him. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, curiosity, uncertainty. "Maybe the reason you met that other Dreamer was so that one day you and me could meet and…" she trailed off. "Never mind."
"I think…" he tentatively scooted closer to her, careful with every motion. "It's very possible."
"Really?" She cocked her head, and cream hair fell from her shoulder.
"Yes. Truthfully…" his eyes flicked back and forth between hers. "I think that… No matter how many versions of reality there might be, be it two or two hundred—no matter how many versions of me, or of you there could be..." His tone brimmed with passion. "I believe I will always be inexplicably drawn to you, Dreamer."
Her eyes widened. Her lip trembled. "That's… pretty cringey, you know?"
"I suppose it is." He gave a quiet chuckle. "I apologize." He stood, at last, and wiped off his pants. "Shall we?" He extended his hand.
She nodded, then took his hand to get to her feet. After she had righted herself, however, a strange sound echoed through the treetops.
"Oh no, it's a monster!" She looked back and forth at the branches overhead, listening for the screech to sound again.
Then, a second time, the shrill screech of a winged creature calling in the air, followed by the flapping of wings. A feathered monster plunged from the sky, two sets of wings outstretched and talons out. It swooped down toward them, beak open to release its cry.
"Dreamer!" He leapt forward and threw his arms around her. He pushed her harshly to the ground, out of reach of the creature. He shielded her, exposing his own back to its claws.
The monster hissed, then ascended through the canopy, back into the sky.
"Dreamer, are you okay?" Mystogan stared down at her, worry etched on his face.
"Yeah, I'm not hurt." She breathed heavily. "What about you? Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm…" He paused in mid-sentence. It was only now that he seemed to notice the position they were in. She was on her back, beneath him, cream hair sprawled on the grass like a halo. He was above her, forearms straining to support his weight, his shadow eclipsing her face. The sight of her beneath him like this, her lips parted, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths… He forgot what he had been preparing to say. Instead, he released a hushed word, seeping with desire. "Perfect."
He stared at her a moment longer, eyes flicking back and forth between sunsets. His gaze drifted to her lips, which had never seemed glossier, more welcoming. They caused his own lips to part, his tongue to dance.
"Oh." He took captive the thoughts he was having, remembering his promise to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" He started to lean back, but she reached up and gripped his collar, holding him down.
"Did you ever kiss her?" she asked, as she studied his face.
"Kiss… her?" He tried to make sense of her words, but rational thought was evading him.
"The other me," she clarified. Her fingers kneaded at his collar. "Did you ever kiss her?"
"No." He swallowed. "I would have liked… I mean, I…" He cleared his throat. "No. We never kissed."
"Do you want to kiss me?" Her eyelashes fluttered.
"Mavis, yes," he said, far too quickly and with far too much enthusiasm.
She raised an eyebrow and mouthed 'Mavis?' before shaking her head. "Okay…" One of her hands crept upward, her thumb moving to trace the red marking below his eye. "Then, kiss me."
"But I…" he swallowed dryly. "You told me not to be pushy or flirty—"
She didn't let him finish. She tugged him harshly down, then captured his mouth in a kiss. He let out a sound from the base of his chest—a sigh or a moan, or a hybrid of the two. His lips moved naturally against hers, responding to instinct—or perhaps to a deeply-rooted desire, a fantasy that spanned several years, now finding its release.
He lowered himself to cover her more fully, as he tangled his fingers in her hair. He dipped her head back further, to gain more access to her mouth, to deepen the kiss. She responded to every motion, welcoming his passion, inviting him in.
"Dreamer…" he breathed her name in between kisses, with a quaver in his voice.
It was every ancient fantasy being fulfilled. Every thought of tasting her, the Earth Land Dreamer—but it was something more, too. He understood, now. He understood that the Earth Land Dreamer was gone. She existed in her own reality, likely pursing her own passions, maybe even a lover. But this wasn't Earth Land. This was Edolas, his reality. And in this reality, he had his Dreamer. She wasn't a fantasy, beyond reach. She was here, she was now.
She was sighing against his hair, whispering his name, asking him to stay a little longer.
"I can't…" he whispered, lips lingering on her neck. "I have to go back to the city."
"I'll come see you," she promised. "Soon."
"Please, do." He gazed down at those sunset eyes. "I want to know everything about you, Dreamer. I want to learn everything there is to know, even if it takes me a lifetime. Especially, if it takes me a lifetime."
"H-Hey now," she blushed. "You're not proposing, are you? Slow down, Mr. Poet, I just think that we can… maybe see more of each other… sometimes."
"Yes." He kissed her cheek once more. "I look forward to it, Dreamer."
Edolas Dreamer. His Dreamer.