Downstairs and Dead
Chapter 7
Dancing with Demons
"I was here with Mama..." Lucy whispered as they stepped out onto the winter garden where an outdoor breakfast buffet was laid out. The two had woken early, and decided to rise early. Lucy sent Gemini-Lisanna out and discovered that very few people were awake, but that food was fresh and available for those who were.
Which worked for them.
But, when they actually made it outside, Laxus was afraid she'd pass out. Breath wouldn't stay in her lungs and her heart stuttered wildly. All at the sight of a snow-covered hedge maze.
"When?" he asked, reminding her that he was there. Alone, he would have touched her, but there were people here. People eating. People watching. Watching for Lucy to screw up. He could see the hunger in their posture, the lust in their eyes. It's not that he hadn't believed Lucy when she'd complained about how vile these bastards were, but damn they had some serious problems.
Too goddamn early for this shit.
"When I was... I don't know... five-ish I guess?" She followed him to the food, not stepping away from his shadow. She calmed. "I didn't remember that. I wonder why we were here. Father was not in a close business relationship with the Masons, and we were never close personally."
"Maybe a party, like this one?"
"Most parties don't include five year old children. You'll find that even the hosting house will send their children away during festivities. It's better for the kids that way," she smiled at him, and it was bright; reassuring. He must have looked upset. Odd, since he hadn't felt upset. "Dunks, late night music," she laughed and leaned in close, "sneaking around. It's a kindness to send the kids to a neighbors house for two or three days during the party, and then leave them with housekeepers or another family while you're on circuit."
"Then maybe that's what you were doing. Maybe your mom was taking you visiting some place else because your dad was throwing a not-for-brats party at your place."
"Huh. That's possible."
They sat down at a table near the maze, but still within the area of magical warmth created for the buffet diners, to eat. "Why'd you recognize the hedge and not the stupi... I mean, very, uh, distinctive entryway?"
"Oh! No, I recognize all of the house. I've been here several times before. I just never remembered that I'd come here with Mama. I guess because most of the times I came here weren't in winter, or if they were in winter, there wasn't snow. Mason house wasn't a regular stop for the winter social season when I was in society. But when I came with Mama, there was snow. Just like this."
"Makes sense, then."
"Yeah." She was smiling and looking around with a sort of wide-eyed wonder that made all the horror of the previous day less jagged. "It's beautiful."
He grunted, more interested in eating than in cold leaves.
She laughed, "Well, at least I was right about the food. The food is good, yeah? Honestly, you should treat me better. I'm going to send a message back to Ichiya and tell him you're a complete disappointment. I need a new model. Who is the next level upgrade from Laxus?"
"Maybe ask for Bixlow," he suggested. "Not quite Gajeel-level bad boy, but he's exotic..."
"Mmm," she tilted her head like she was actually considering it. In fact, looking at her, she really did look like she was actually considering it! "He's probably a touch too erotic for a place like this."
"Bixlow."
"Mmm."
"Erotic."
"Mmm." She smiled into her rabbit omelet, flavored with mint and any number of other spices. She seemed very happy with it, but he figured she was overselling it a bit. It was good, but it wasn't that good. She was playing him.
"Bullshit."
"No, really. I assume he's gone through some of the same training you have. And he'd have the visor off and the wardrobe change; though, the tabard is quite striking, in my own opinion. Still, Bixlow in a suit... mmm, yes. That sounds nice. His build is very good, as is his facial shape. With the visor off, very sharp lines, attractive features, or at least many women of station consider them attractive. Well," she motioned at one a pair of clearly hungover middle-age men walking in who were anything but sharp, "everyone likes what they can't have, I suppose. Of course his eyes are extremely unique, which is intriguing."
"Get to the tongue, Lucy. You know you want to bring that up."
Her chuckle was low, almost husky. It surprised him. "Yes, well. If he could keep it in his mouth until he got a girl into something resembling privacy..."
"Erotic."
"Indeed."
"You're a pervert," he said with growing alarm.
"It's catching, apparently. I must have picked it up at the guild." She chuckled again, "Or it's just another way I'm dealing with the withdrawal symptoms. Missin' all you old perverts, gotta act like it a bit myself for the familiarity."
"Hey, don't lump me in as an 'old pervert'. That's Gramps and Macao and Wakaba. Got shit to do with me."
"Oh, but Laxus, you're like a junior member of that little club. You're like Team Pervert's Romeo."
"...don't even know how to respond to that."
"Because I'm right."
"Not sure that's true so much as you're spouting a whole lot of crazy, but there's a whole lot of people coming down the stairs right now, so I think we should probably change our topic of conversation," he finished his statement in a fast whisper while she snapped her eyes to the side. The door leading to the stairs was behind her, so she couldn't actually see, and was too smart to do something as obvious as turning around and looking.
"We'll need to split up this morning. Divide and conquer, Laxus. I'll wait for people to start eating, then I think I'll take to the maze."
He looked at her, really looked at her and that half-mad glint in her eyes. They were shining with an emotion he didn't recognize, and he didn't trust her with it.
"Not the best idea."
"I want to see what happens."
He frowned, "I don't."
"Well, you won't, will you? Because I want you to go running."
"You want me to what?"
Her grin was sharp as hell, and if it wasn't evil it was as close as it could be for a girl as nice as her. "I want you to exercise, Laxus. I want you to sweat. If this were any other place, I'd want you half naked, but I can only ask for so much."
"Peeervert..." he whispered, far too quietly for anyone but her to hear.
"This time, not so much. I'm looking at impressing the men among our crowd," she murmured as the tables near them began to fill. "After breakfast and before lunch, there is supposed to be some sporting for the men, hunting again, which you already swore off yesterday. But look at you." She waved a hand at him, and – as if she somehow commanded him – he did as ordered and looked at himself. What the hell!? "You must keep in shape somehow. So, Mr. Dreyar, exercise. And do so in someway that will make the men stop killing poor, semi-domesticated game and instead fawn over you."
"Sounds boring as fuck."
"Sounds like your every day. Just pretend they all have long green hair, sweetheart."
He glared at her, but it didn't seem to have any effect.
"Running isn't going to impress anyone."
"So rip trees in half or something, I don't care." She pushed away from the table nodding to someone behind him. "They'll pick up the plates." She grinned at him, brushing her hands on her skirts to straighten out the bunched fabric. "Do as you're told, Mr. Dreyar."
She sashayed away from their table, straight towards the hedge maze, without even a glance back in his direction. He wasn't at all sure how this made sense in light of how they'd been telling everyone he'd come as a bodyguard. Why in the hell would he leave her alone like that? Of course, he was more a bodyguard for the road, than for the house, but still.
Every instinct told him this was not going to turn out well. But he also knew that Lucy wasn't wrong with her divide and conquer point. They had abilities to reach different groups of people. He, like her, stood up from the table and went back into the house. His casual wear was in their rooms. He wasn't going to exercise in anything fancy.
0000
Lucy walked along the path slowly. Taking her time. Enjoying the cold air and the quiet groan of the thin layer of snow under her shoes. Or she wanted to enjoy it. She would have enjoyed it. Anywhere else. Anytime else. But she could almost see ghosts floating in front of her. Two. Two women.
The dead servant girl.
Her mother.
There was, if she recalled correctly, and Lucy was pretty sure she did, a fountain at the center of this maze. Like on their home property. The closer Lucy walked, with each foot placed, each step made, the memory grew stronger.
Mama dipping a key into a crack made into the ice. Her musical voice calling out a name that hurt to even think. A face, a figure appearing. Snapping at them for the weather, the temperature.
Because she'd always been a bit temperamental.
A left. A right. Left again. Down a long frosted, ever-green corridor. And there it was.
Lucy couldn't help but laugh when she saw it. White stone basin. Rim barely a foot and a half high. White stone, beautifully carved statue. Of Pisces. The twin fish.
Mama had possessed a good sense of humor.
Lucy sat down on the cold rim of the fountain and dipped her hand in the water. It was cold, but not yet frozen. It hadn't been cold enough for long enough, or maybe there'd been a spell placed on it in recent years to keep it from freezing. Though, she couldn't sense any magic.
She sat there, looking down, hand in the water for what felt like hours. Her hand went numb; her mind. Serenity filled her, and for the first time in ages, there was some sort of comfort in her blood, no matter how cold.
Though, if she were honest, those two ghosts – the woman, her mother – had been joined by a third. But she wasn't honest. She couldn't be honest. She ignored her ghosts and looked back at the water.
Lifting her hand out of the water, finally, she studied it. The blue veins. The shivering from cold her nerves were obviously responding to, but her mind wasn't processing properly. She wasn't cold. She was warm. Her heart roared with heat.
She closed her hand into a fist. Opened it.
With that wet hand, she lifted a long necklace from around her neck, its pendant – Aquarius' broken key – hidden always inside her clothing. She slid the gold key from the silver chain and held it to the water.
"I know it's broken, but I wonder if you can tell. If you can feel it. If you have any sense of it. We were here, do you remember? You, Mama, and me, when I was little. I don't remember why, but we were. The fountain has an image of Pisces. Isn't that hilarious? I miss you very much-"
She heard a crunch and voices from inside the maze and pulled her hand from the water like she'd been burned. She managed to return the key to its chain and the chain to its place around her neck before they joined her at the maze's center.
"Lucy Heartfilia; I never thought I'd see you return."
Lucy turned away from the fountain to see an extremely tall woman arm-in-arm with a man somehow taller. Neither looked particularly pleased. Maybe they had expected an empty maze and a good place to flirt – or whatever – in private (which was stupid considering how easy it was to get to the fountain and the fact that you could see it from at least a quarter of the Mason Mansion's rooms), or maybe they were particularly unfond of her.
She bet money on the latter.
"I never much expected to return, either, but I have the time, now, and it has been one-to-eight years since I've seen so many people. The world is a changed place, Kattia. Bendi," she nodded to acknowledge the man, who had yet to speak.
The look of dislike, true dislike on their faces did upset her. Kattia was – had been – her age. As much of a friend as one could have friend in this world. Bendi wasn't much older, and he had been kind to her, before.
There was nothing kind about the two in front of her. Hostile was a good word for their expressions.
"We want you to leave."
"Wow. That's nice. But I'd rather not."
"There is no way you're enjoying yourself." Kattia was angry, and it showed. Lucy remembered how, when they were younger, Kattia used to be scared of society. Made sense that it would translate into anger as she aged. Especially considering her family. So Lucy sort of understood.
"In fact, I am, a bit. This," she brushed a hand over the air between them to indicate their current situation, "for example, is rather amusing. You are wondering what I gain from being here. The real question should be, what do I lose? Nothing. So why not? I have an opportunity, why not take it?
"However, I have a question of my own: What do you gain by telling me off like this. Are you gaining favor from someone by acting as their mouthpiece, or was this done on your own? You do it in secret here, because you believe to do it in a more public place would cause you to lose face, meaning you believe I have some level of support..." she grinned at the shadows in Bendi's eyes. She'd hit a nerve. "Are you truly scornful, or are you hiding concern behind masks? Genuine hate? Jealousy? I'm captivated by the possibilities. So many mysteries in one short meeting. At least, I assume it is short. I am done." She looked from the woman to the man, but their expressions were unchanged.
"Why has the man come?" Bendi asked.
"If by the man you mean Laxus Dreyar, he has come as a guard. And a friend. I have those now, friends. Not myths, like we thought. Not lies. But gifts."
"Friend? Please," Kattia scoffed. "I'll not have you bring a lover to my father's home, Lucy Heartfilia. If it weren't for his fondness of your father, I wouldn't allow him to bring you into his home."
She laughed, bitter and hard. Both of them stepped back, and Lucy was reminded of her power, of the power she had as a mage. As a Fairy Tail mage. But she wasn't here as a mage, she was here as a lady. As an extension of Her Highness, Princess Hisui.
She let the laughter die, and replaced it with a tight-lipped smile.
"Kattia, you are a pretentious bore, and your father is an adulterous lech who came on to me last night after insulting my father and reminiscing on my mother's, as he called them, 'tits'. I'm not sure I'll make it to your house. Six of six, I thought I might be too tired before I arrived. Now, I might just get there early and spend a month under your sanctimonious hospitality." She stood from the fountain and brushed off her skirts. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I've other matters to attend to, and other – more interesting – people to speak with."
"No one will speak with you, Lucy," Kattia hissed as she passed. "You ran away, debased yourself, looked down on society, and think you can return to gold dig? The only people who will stoop to speak to a creature like you are pigs after cheap whores."
She chuckled, "My goodness, Kattia, what language. But, as I said, I'm not interested in your father. And I'm not here to gold dig. Have a good morning. Bendi," she nodded again, and then left.
Struggling to breathe.
0000
When she returned to their room, she smelled like ice and pine. Despite the fact that he had just come out of the shower, skin warmed, and there was hot fire going, her stepping across the threshold brought in a chill that Laxus couldn't quite describe.
"How did the running go?" Lucy asked him when their eyes met. The question was perfunctory, and her eyes was distant. Had he not stepped in her line-of-sight, he wondered if she'd have said anything.
He stretched and sat on the couch, motioning for her to sit in the chair, which was closer to the fire, so they could talk properly. She looked uncomfortable. "I did as ordered. The younger guys gawked a bit, but it wasn't as distracting as you hoped it would be."
"Did you break trees?"
That morning, she would have laughed. Joked. Now? It was simply stated. A question. Nothing more.
"Didn't think it would go over well with the landowners. I just did a general workout."
She shrugged, "Well, I'm sure that was plenty impressive."
"Do you?" her manner was disturbing. "Too bad you weren't there to watch."
"Mmm, too bad."
Her back was straight. The tips of her fingers were blue.
"Lucy."
"Ah?"
"What's wrong?" he asked. He wanted to crawl off the couch and get in her face. Pressure her. He wasn't good with timidity.
"Huh?" she looked up at him as if only then realizing he was there.
"You're being ... weird."
"I'm sorry. I'm tired. And anxious about tonight." She ran one of those blue-fingered hands through her hair, "Dinner is one thing, but dancing is different."
He thought about their talk the night before. Of what she'd said of vulgar old men and brandy.
"What happened this morning?"
"Met a few more people who wondered at my intentions. Gave them the usual answer. But they seem unsatisfied with the answer. I added a bit of personal insults to sidestep the suspicion."
"Personal insults."
"Sure," she yawned. "I think I'll get ready now. Or start to."
"It's still like five hours until seven o'clock, Lucy."
"Dinner will be at six, tonight, lasting probably an hour to an hour and a half, with the dancing beginning almost immediately after. So only four hours."
He rolled his eyes, and watched her as she walked to her room. Her steps were confident enough, her shoulders straight. Her long hair, which she had let down, tied back with a black bow swaying. Despite looking as she should look, even from behind, he saw that some of the light that had brightened in their short week together had dimmed in just one morning.
What the hell had happened in that hedge?
0000
Out of her luggage, she pulled a small packet of pages. Sorting through them she separated out a set of small images and returned the papers to the bags. Lucy sat down on the bed she hadn't slept in to look at the pictures of her mother.
They were old, now, and her favorite was the oldest of them. It was faintly yellowed at the corners, but it was still obvious how beautiful Mama had been. Her corn-silk hair tied high on her head and wrapped in pearls. Pearls also decorated her ears and throat. The pink and cream ball gown fitted to her arms and torso, then belling out at her hips, showing that even after having a child, she was fit. And beautiful. So beautiful.
And in this place, Lucy was haunted by that beautiful woman. Haunted by her, and by those who remembered her. Haunted by her father. Lucy picked up the next picture, this one of their family. Father, Mother, and a little Lucy. Smiles on all three faces. A time she couldn't even remember. The house in the background wasn't their house. She didn't recognize it. They had been visiting Father's business friends.
Haunted. She was haunted.
Lucy looked back at the picture of her mother, and saw what she might look like in another ten years. Those eyes were so similar to the ones she saw in the mirror. Though, her lips weren't quite as full. She had her father's narrow lips. And her hair didn't have the natural wave. But, when people told her she looked like her mother, that was the greatest statement anyone could make about her, besides simply saying "you are a lot like your mother." She didn't just want to look like her, Lucy wanted to be like her in every way. That loving kindness. That internal contentment. The smallest of smiles radiating joy to any who saw her.
Every single day, Lucy missed her.
Her mother had given her so much. Even her magic. Even her keys.
She touched a silver key, smooth, and comforting. The magic was so familiar that she didn't even need to call before Plue appeared at her side, cuddling to her, silent, trembling. Knowing, as he always did, that she needed him.
She wrapped her arms around him.
Her hands played over her keys. Her keys. Her mother's keys. Her keys. And she stared at the photos. At the haunted walls.
"Open the Gate of the Goat, Capricorn."
"Master Lucy, you have need of me?"
"Yes, Capricorn. The first ball begins tonight in about two hours. If you could, I would like you to give Laxus a quick refresher on basic dances and etiquette."
"Of course, Lucy. I can ensure that your escort will excel among the elite in your company."
"Thank you, Capricorn." She gestured at a chair, "Please, stay."
While he waited, Lucy sat Plue down on the bed and checked her wardrobe, forgetting that she had yet to call Virgo for her clothing. Hers or Laxus's.
"Open the Gate of the Maiden, Virgo."
"Punishment, Princess?"
She repeated her needs to Virgo, and watched as the spirit vanished, taking clothing to her partner and then returning with a soft, rose-colored dress made especially for her.
Lucy looked at the picture, "You made it similar to Mama's dress. It's beautiful, thank you."
"Of course, Princess. It was no problem."
"Please," she pointed at a second seat, "stay a little while longer."
Virgo sat and exchanged glances with the goat spirit. Both uneasy at the expression on her face, and the darkness that shadowed her eyes.
"Open the Gate of the Giant Crab, Cancer."
"Lucy, no!" Capricorn was standing as Cancer appeared in the room.
For the first time since Lucy met him, Cancer's expression was not calm. Before he could even speak a greeting, she felt Capricorn trying to leave for the spirit realm.
"No!" she said, holding up a hand. "No. Stay. Please. I want to try. Let me try."
"Lucy-sama."
"Princess."
"No! Cancer, please, stay. I'll need my hair done properly. To match the dress. So you have to stay." She smiled, though it might have wobbled, then raised another key, ignoring the protests of the spirits around her. "Open the Gate of the Scorpion, Scorpio."
Scorpio wavered before fully crossing his gate to stand in her room.
"We are unhappy, Lucy. You can't do this. You don't need five gates open. You have to-"
She interrupted him, almost swaying. Surrounded on all sides, Plue's small paws on her calves. She tried to stand strong, and there were hands supporting her.. "Scorpio, I need to tell..." she hesitated. "Need you to tell her..."
"Lucy!" a flash of light showed Loke had come to her. His own power. Had to be his own. "Lucy you have to stop doing this! Close the gate! Close any gate."
"Force gate closure," she gasped, "Leo the Lion." His form had barely dissolved when Lucy called him back. "Open the Gate of the Lion, Leo."
"Lucy! Six! You can't do six! You're killing yourself!"
She ignored him, focusing on her blurred vision on Scorpio. "Tell her, please, that my mission. She's been here, I think. I know. I remember. There's a fountain. A fountain with a statue of Pisces. Mama called to her in winter. Tell her that, I am again... I have..." She looked at the dress; the photo. She looked at the walls. She remembered the voice of an old man who stunk of brandy demeaning her parents. "That I get to dress like Mama." Tears filled her eyes. Flowed down her cheeks. God, she felt sick. Cry baby. Cry baby.
What was she doing?
She just wanted to see her. That's all. Just to see her.
Who … who...
She needed to see her.
"Leo!" Capricorn screamed, "You're the strongest of us! Close your door!"
"You think I haven't been trying?!"
She could feel Loke's hands on her shoulders, but she could only see one spirit.
"I'm going to wear dresses and dance like Mama. I'll be graceful, I promise. Tell her... tell her, please Scorpio, tell her I love her." Lucy fell to her knees, gasping.
"We are." he promised her. "We are, but you have to send me back." There was so much pity in his voice, she almost broke.
Almost. What a lie.
Loke had his arms around her. So much like that time, when she... "Lucy, you have to close them. Lucy. Lucy, listen to me. Scorpio will tell her, he's promised. Now, close the gates."
A crack accented the sounds of Loke's pleading. She couldn't make sense of it.
"Open-"
"Lucy, no!"
"-the Gate of-"
"You are making us kill you!" he sobbed. "Are you going to make us live with that sin?!"
She swallowed forgetting who she was calling for. Unable to recognize the symbol on the key in her hand. A body put itself between her and Scorpio. She couldn't see … couldn't tell...
"That I love her, and someday I want to meet her again," she was saying, but it was her mouth talking. Nothing to do with her mind.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Laxus," Loke pulled away, and her body felt chill. "She's holding open too many gates."
"Why the hell would she-"
"We are needed to go back, if we are going to tell her, Lucy," Scorpio's voice was measured, and there was a shadow of his usual smile on his lips. "If you want me to tell her."
"To … tell her … go back to her... a date?"
"We are, yes. A date."
"Oh," her eyes closed and her head rolled back. Loke held her again. "I get to dress like Mama. I'll be almost like Layla Heartfilia, tonight. Graceful. Virgo made me a dress, even." She closed her eyes. "I put her key in the fountain, today. The fountain with the statue of Pisces... but maybe don't tell her that. Tell her I miss her. I miss them both."
Her skin tingled, and the magic in her burned.
"We are going to tell her, Lucy."
"Thank you," she sighed. "Close the Gate of the Scorpion."
"The rest!" Loke demanded. "Close the rest."
From a chain around her neck, Lucy pulled a broken key base from under her shirt and held it close to her mouth. "Open the Gate of the Water Bearer, Aquarius."
"It won't work, Lucy!"
"I know," she coughed. "I know. But sometimes I try, just in case. She's my family, and sometimes all I want is to see her. Just to see her."
"She's a free spirit now, Lucy. She's safe. She's okay."
"Yes. Yes, I know."
"Princess."
"Lucy, ebi."
"Master Lucy."
She shivered. "I know. I know. I just... This place, and Mama. I can't explain it, Loke. She … she was … back then … she was my first friend. A gift from Mama. Everywhere I turn, here, I'm reminded of Mama. She loved Mama, so much."
"I'm glad you had her, then," Loke held her closer, his lips against her hair. She felt calmer.
"My strongest friend," she whispered.
"And she and the Spirit King passed that strength on to you, in your time of need. That proves she was closer to you than she has ever been to anyone in her existence. She loved you, too. Never doubt that," Capricorn's expression was soft. "She is still part of you as long as you remember her. Never forget that, lest you malign her gift."
She sniffled (cry baby, cry baby), "I'm sorry Capricorn."
"Do you need me for the boy?"
She heard the boy snort.
"No... I don't. He's okay at dancing, now. I'm sorry. I lied," she covered her face with her hands.
"All I wish for in this world is your health and safety. We won't leave you. I am always honored to receive your call, but there is too much fear in you. It makes our bond and our crossing unstable. You're putting yourself in unnecessary danger. Trust in us. Let us do what we most want to do. Serve and protect you.. Please, close my gate."
She nodded and did as he said..
"You will need formal hair style, ebi, but it will become messy if I fix it before your bath" Cancer almost bowed to her. "I will practice on Gemini, and then you can call me thirty minutes before you leave."
"Thank you, Cancer." She sucked in air, and put a hand up to Loke's cheek. "Close the Gate of the Crab."
"Princess," Virgo did bow. "If the dress is satisfactory, and the man is also outfitted, then I can also leave. Punishment?"
Lucy stood, with Loke's help, and wrapped her arms around the thin maid. "No punishment. I'm sorry. So sorry. Thank you for helping me, Virgo. Close the Gate of the Maiden."
She was left with Loke standing by her, and Plue still shaking at her side.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I was being a baby." Pressure squeezed pain into the soft tissue of her heart and lungs. "She would yell at me if she were here."
"We just want you to be safe, Lucy. We all love you too much to let you hurt yourself in this way." Loke bent to kiss her cheek. "Laxus is waiting on the other side of the door. Which he broke."
"He what?!"
"Don't get mad at me," she heard his muffled voice from behind the – exactly as Loke said – broken door, "I heard yelling. What did you think I'd do?"
She blushed and put her hands back over her face.
"I will admit," Loke pulled her hands away, smiling, "what you just did – though stupid – was impressive. You opened, and held open against struggling for closures, six gates. Five golden key gates and one silver. And did so for an alarming amount of time while emotionally unstable. We'll work on it when you get home, Lucy. It was stupid, but it was amazing."
He leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers. "As Scorpio carries your message to Aquarius, I will carry this story to her and all the others. I understand that you miss her – Aquarius, your mom – and you miss so many others from the guild, but please, please don't let it drag on you so much without help. Anytime you need anything, call me. Call any of us. That's why we're here, Lucy."
"Thank you."
"Please, close my gate." He raised his voice, "I trust you'll take care of her until then."
"Of course," Laxus grunted.
"Remember to call for me so I can take down your bags. And since Laxus is known to have an attitude, maybe send me down to get him breakfast instead of having him go downstairs with the others. Better have them question why he sleeps late, if you want to get out of tomorrow morning's breakfast."
"I agree. Thanks again, Loke."
"You're always welcome, my Princess."
"Close the Gate of the Lion." She looked down at her faithful, carrot-nosed companion, petting his head "What about you, Plue. Would you like to stay, or go?" The dog stroked her hand and then stepped back, fading into a cloud of sparkles.
There was a long silence before Laxus finally re-broke the door so that he could face her properly. "My dancing is better than okay."
She gulped, thankful for him. So thankful for him.
"Don't flatter yourself. Okay is generous. But your general appeal will make your dancing mediocrity overlookable."
"So I can't flatter myself, but you can do it for me?" he grinned. "I can accept that."
"It's not flattery, Laxus, it's honesty. Don't let it go to your head, though; anyone can be attractive, dancing takes skill." She looked at the door, "...if Virgo can't fix that then gossip is going to have some very interesting things to say about the two of us."
"Gossip can have at us," he smirked. "I might not be all that skilled at dancing, but when it comes to other things..."
She rolled her eyes. "Get out of my room, Team Pervert Junior. I'm going to take a bath. Don't bother me."
"Lucy," he hesitated, and she reached out to brush a finger over his wrist, much as he had done with the girl the night before.
"It's okay. I'm okay. I just freaked out a little. Go listen to music, or something, while I take a bath."
It took him a moment, studying her, gauging her, determining whether she truly was safe with herself, but, honestly, not that long of a moment. She would have done the same, in his situation. He wasn't babying her, and she was grateful for that. When he left the room, she slouched and put her face in her hands. Not crying, not wanting to cry, just feeling tired.
She felt so heavy. Bones like lead, skin like armor. Heavy. She thought of Gajeel and wondered that he could move if he felt like this all the time. Even knowing this feeling was emotional, even knowing that the cause was external, didn't help.
With no other options, she gathered her things and went to cleanse her demons in the bath. Water and warmth as her best sanctuary.
There were still hours before she would have to descend into a sparkling hell in a pink dress and heels.
0000
"Why are you here, Lucy?"
She really hoped they would stop asking her that question soon.
Lucy recognized the man who approached her for the first dance. He was a contemporary of her father, and – if she remembered correctly – dealt in lacrima.
Jaxon Trant. Her newest interrogator.
"Why does anyone do anything, Lord Trant?" she replied as she took his hand and stepped into his lead as the music began.
"Money," his voice was sarcastic. His grip was tight.
She laughed, "I was going to say survival. But they're much the same thing. I'm considering many different paths my future might take, and while this is a very unlikely one, I decided there was little harm in taking a few weeks to explore the possibility." She smiled up at him, "And the refreshments are excellent."
It was obvious that Jaxon did not trust her, which was fair. It was a surprise that he was the first person to dance with her. She wondered if it had been planned. He was among the most important of the men in the room, and he was also the only man whose business was connected directly to her chosen profession. Though he was married and technically too powerful to give her his time, he was also probably the best to judge her and determine whether she was allowed to continue the tour.
"Would you be interested in restarting your father's company?"
"It is one of my thoughts. Before I came back from Tenrou and he died, Father left me a message." Granted, it had nothing to do with his business, but there was no need to say that. "I would be proud to take up the name he made and continue it through my life. But I'm aware that I'm no businesswoman. So it is a consideration, but I'm not sold on that as a future path. I can't forget my time or bloodline as a mage, which I am also proud of, and it is a personal pride. My own pride."
Lucy watched his eyes clear. He manufactured and distributed magic supplies; reminding him of her connection to magic, and her pride in that was apparently all she needed to connect to him.
"You have become a remarkable mage of your kind."
"Thank you, sir." She gave a small curtsy timed well in a turn so that it did not disrupt their dance. "Not that there's much competition among celestial mages any longer," she muttered.
"That doesn't matter. Though, the loss of so many celestial mages is tragic, the number of them does not lessen your achievements. A mage could be the last one left and be unremarkable for any other reason. The keys must be found, the mage must be powerful enough to call them out, to keep them out, charming and companionable enough to form bonds, and so on. You are, by reputation, highly skilled in all of these areas, and thus remarkable. Admirable."
She was blushing to a point where her skin almost hurt. "Ah, well..."
"If you chose to stick with magecraft, what do you think you might do?"
"Not join a guild," was her quick and decisive answer. "I'd feel like I was cheating. I could solo, or work under contract somehow. I was contacted for a bodyguarding job two months ago, and that went well. Maybe something like that. I've done some work for magazines, which I like, but doesn't require the use of my magic." She blushed, again. "I'm sorry to ramble. I'm boring you, I'm sure."
"I asked the question. Well, Lucy," the song was coming to an end, "if you're interested, I always like to get good mages working for me. Better mages equals better products."
"I'll certainly keep that in mind, Lord Trant." She dipped her head in a show of respect, and he pulled her close enough to kiss her cheek.
"Take care. I hope you enjoy your time among us, even if this is not the path you decide to follow."
He turned away, and another man stepped up to take his place.
"Lord Maxwell."
"Lady Lucy."
And they danced.
0000
Laxus watched her dance. He wasn't supposed to; he was supposed to focus on his partner. His partner wasn't her. He wasn't supposed to, but how could he not.
After Loke's warning? After seeing her picture and that dress? After dinner and watching those people around her glare at that dress, at her hair. At her.
Shun her? She said they might shun her. Good god, they were a thin line away from spitting in her face the moment she walked in a room. They treated her like trash. Base. Unworthy.
Except for those men who danced with her.
And it was hard, because those women he led around the floor, they weren't the killer. Laxus was certain that the killer was male. Lucy might be open minded, but he was not. The sort of torture those dead girls faced was the sort of torture men pushed on women, nine times out of ten. Not that women pushed on other women. Which meant one of those men with their hands on her waist had his hands around the neck of a corpse the day before.
How could he not watch her?
Lucy knew all of this, of course. Yet, she spoke to those men as if their bile and filth left no mark on her. As if she were completely free of fear.
But she wasn't, and he knew it, so he watched her. Which did not exactly please his dance partners. Not that he really gave a flying fuck, but Lucy would. Lucy expected him to do better.
"Mr. Dreyar," the young woman an inch away from being pressed against him called for his attention. She was, Ama Leaville. Not especially wealthy or esteemed, but her family was well-regarded. He guessed twenty years old, but almost as small as his little script mage guild mate, Levy. He was sure they looked stupid as shit together, but – according to Lucy – she was friendly with her servants. More likely than the others to give a damn.
"Yeah?"
"You seem troubled. I don't wish to... intrude on personal matters – and feel free, of course, to leave me without an answer! - but would you care to confide those troubles in me?"
He looked at her overlarge violet eyes. They were knowing, but not malicious. He thought it might be a question worth answering. He thought she might be a person worth feeling out.
But he'd been quiet a moment too long.
"Does it concern Miss Lucy? I noticed you looking at her."
Again, Laxus studied her. He observed that while there was no warmth in her voice when saying Lucy's name, there was also not the disdain he'd come to expect from the others around them.
So he gave into impulse and instinct (and Lucy's information) and talked with his dance partner.
"I was hired as an escort and bodyguard," he made his voice a low rumble, as if telling a secret. He opened the hand around her waist so that it covered the whole of her back, bringing her closer. "Easy money, I thought, and good food on top of it." He allowed a small smile to change the contours of his face, and slid his hand up her back a fraction of an inch. "Perhaps good company. No downsides to the deal. But-"
He frowned. Turned that open, warm hand into a fist against the small of her back.
"But?" she was almost breathless.
"There was a murder yesterday. A murder, which means this place isn't safe."
He glanced back up at the blond, easily spotted as the only hint of pink in a sea of blue and white, red and green.
"It's safe, now," Ama told him, her voice no longer soft or in modulated tones.
"What do you mean?" Laxus' whole body tensed, waiting. The men before had asked if he hunted, and he'd brushed off their talk of tracking and killing game. This was the sort of hunt he did as a mage.
When he felt her shiver slightly with hesitation, he was careful with her. Soft. "Tell me. Please."
"Now that there's been a death, everyone else is safe."
"...what?" He absolutely did not like the way she said that. It sounded … ritual. Sacrificial.
"Happened the last few years," she pulled him, dancing as masterfully as Lucy had, away from the floor as the music swelled from climax to falling action, in a swirling, dizzying race to its end. She took the lead from him, and directed them into a hall away from the rest of the dancers. "One person dies. Every time. But only one."
"Why..." he stared down at her, knowing that without previous knowledge of this horror show bullshit he'd be speechless. "Why does anyone come? If anyone can die."
He wondered if she'd say the things Lucy's character said when they playacted at the castle. Wondered if he would loathe this tiny slip of a woman as much as he did that fictional creation
"Show of strength... and to try and prove it isn't you, I suppose. My uncle, who is my escort this year, was very harsh with my father. He believes if you don't go and a murder doesn't happen, it will make you automatically suspect."
"But then," Laxus countered, "if you don't go and a murder does happen, doesn't that free you of guilt?"
The woman chuckled, "You could sneak in and murder without anyone knowing you were here. A murderer wouldn't be above hiding! And what if it isn't the same person? Could be lots of people..." She looked over his shoulder as if afraid to continue.
"How many? You said it was only one and a few years... three? Four?"
Farther and farther down the hall and away from the dance floor she pulled him. He fought off a panic attack at having Lucy out of his eyeline. This woman was going to be very good for them. This is what Lucy wanted him doing. Lucy was doing what she needed to do. No one would kill her in the middle of a ballroom. She was safe from harm there.
Safe from physical harm there.
Safe from death there.
Fuck.
"Close to twenty, I think," Ama was answering his question, and he was struggling to pay attention. "I haven't kept count. Don't want to, and we're not supposed to... I don't know where all this happens. Does it happen in the summer tour? My mother isn't from Fiore. She's from Joya; she lives there still, and we spend our summers there. I don't visit anyone in Fiore in the summer. If it happens then, no one talks about it. Just like no one talks about how it happens here, now, in the winter. So it could be twice the number I know.
"Does it happen in noble houses? My family doesn't have the level of wealth or influence needed to go there! But the Dominos do. The Heartfilias did. This could be happening everywhere all the time. All I know is that once one person has died, everyone else is safe."
He growled and pulled her small body close to his, hiding her and her story away from any and all prying ears and eyes. "What you're saying is that everywhere you go, you worry you'll be killed? And so now I need to worry about Lucy. And myself. And you, too."
"Well," she was blushing, "no men have ever died that I know of."
"Only women? Young women?"
Her nod was shaky. And he knew why, but he wasn't going to force it out of her. She had to tell him. He wanted to know how she'd phrase it.
"So, I'm safe, but I still need to worry about Lucy. And you, Ama."
"Pr...probably not... so... so far the dead have only ever been from... have only ever been young women working in the houses, not visiting guests." She was blushing again, but this time there was shame in it.
Good. He liked her better for it; though, he couldn't like her much.
"You... you go to parties... where you are in no danger, but those poor folk who care for you face murder? Where at least one, no question, dies? Why aren't there only male servants?!"
She had pushed away from him, now. No longer looking up. Not able to look him in the face. He appreciated that she knew it was wrong, but in his mind, if she knew it was wrong, she should do something about it. It made sense that the shallow bastards didn't do shit. They didn't care. But if you cared? You did something. You acted.
"It's cruel and stupid. And maybe even evil. But my brother took sick last year and is no longer going to be able to run the business when Father passes. He will most likely die before Father does. And Father doesn't trust me to do it on my own. So I must marry. And it must be someone suitable. There was almost a match, last year, but it fell through because of... well, that's not important. The point is, two years ago, I didn't come. Last year, I didn't want to come. This year, I screamed; I begged. I cried. But I live at the whim of my father. He holds everything dear to me. So this year, though I screamed, and I cried, and I begged, I still came to this awful place.
"But I came without servants. Any servants."
He put his hands on her shoulders and was silent for a long moment. Eventually, she did look up at him. Laxus moved his right hand to her cheek. "At least you're trying. There are so many women here, serving food, cleaning the rooms. Now that I know this, I can think back, and I know in the last two days I've seen no small number of working women in this house. Why are they here, if everyone knows, Ama?"
"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know."
She lied. To him. To herself. Because saying, 'No one else cares,' was just too awful.
"Let's go back," he told her, hands returning to her arms, directing her back towards the ballroom. "People will have noticed we're gone. Wouldn't want to drive off your suitable husband."
"No," she whispered. "Wouldn't want to do that."
He clinched his jaw and stayed perfectly silent before releasing her onto the ballroom floor. Wishing, guiltily, that he was still the man he had been when he plotted against Fairy Tail. That man wouldn't hurt for Ama Leaville. That man wouldn't feel a terrible driving need to whisk her away, to comfort her. To offer her safe haven with him.
Safe haven he could never provide. Because he wasn't a Blue Pegasus mage, not really, and his words could never be perfumed clouds of meaningless flirtation. He wasn't great at saying things he didn't mean. Since his exile, a great desire to protect had swelled up inside of him, greater even than guilt or pure ambition. Ama so clearly needed protection, but it wasn't the kind he could provide.
With his arm free, he walked to the side of the room with the wine bar, his eyes sweeping over the room, looking for a spot of pink and gold. He caught her spinning in the center, a man close to his age and extremely tall with his hand around her waist and cold eyes narrowed as he spoke to her. Between the loud music and the conversation of all the people who surrounded him, Laxus couldn't hear what the man said, but the neutral mask on Lucy's face, and the tight scorn of the man's lips left no secret to the tone.
He barely covered a scowl with a glass of wine, when he felt a hand on his elbow.
"Mr. Dreyar, may I have the next dance?"
He forced a smile as he made a quarter turn, "Bold, Amilia. Approaching me like this." Unlike the older, wiser – if sadder – Ama, Amilia's eyes were simple and open. Bright and hopeful. Her ears were pierced with strings of diamonds that dangled down to brush her bare shoulders. He touched the diamond curtain so that they played over her skin, and her eyelashes fluttered. "You, yourself said your family would not approve of me speaking to you."
"It's just a dance, Mr. Dreyar."
"Maybe. Maybe." The song ended, and he took the young woman's hand. "Then let's dance, Amilia."
0000
She had beat him upstairs again, and was already asleep. Already asleep, tucked into what he was beginning to consider "his" side of the bed, by the wall. Usually, she came in and slept on the outside, a trend started that first night in the castle when he moved over to make room for her.
Honestly, that was probably why he woke up smothering her most mornings. He'd feel safer – more comfortable, that she was safer – if he was between her and the door.
It threw him off that he was on the "wrong" side. And it wasn't like he minded how he woke up...
He slid in beside her, disgruntled by the fact that she was already sleep. By the fact that he'd had almost no chance to talk with her during the day. No time in private with her. He hadn't realized how much he enjoyed it, when the rest of his day was filled with so much bullshit.
Disgruntled by so many things. By the tang of salt that clung to the fabric and sunk into the not-pleasant odor of feathers in her pillow. There were countless reasons she could have to cry in this hell-hole; it pissed him off that he hadn't been there for her, no matter the reason.
No sense of her magic, either. She'd been alone. Completely alone. Maybe she wanted it that way, or she'd have called her spirits. (Remembering their afternoon, it could have been about her spirits.)
He was an alone kinda guy, so he could understand a need for time alone. He got that. But she'd been there for him before. Well, it was sort of mutual, but if he was honest, she'd held him up just then.
He'd return the favor, and be glad to do so, if she'd let him. She shouldn't have to cry alone.
Felt weird, sleeping on the outside. Weight on his left arm and hip so he could face her, see her; though, she was turned away from him, and all he could see was the back of her head.
Her hair was tangled, a mess of sun-colored knots. She'd let it down, taken out the string of pearls, but not bothered to brush it. What skin he could see – shoulder, throat, ear – was pale. Bloodless. He inched closer, certain she was cold. He didn't touch her – Laxus didn't, not in bed, consciously, not when she was already asleep like this – but being close to her felt better.
He hadn't been there when she cried, but he could do this, now. And maybe it would help.
0000X0000
Author's Note: So. That was the ball. A little glimpse into Lucy's personal hell of what returning to the world of her father and mother might look like – though, honestly probably wouldn't since 90% of the FT world just melt into happy forgiveness at the sight of her smile or whatever (but that makes for a boring murder mystery) – and a little look-see into a more charming Laxus, which I still haven't quite got the hang of, but I'm thinking maybe he hasn't quite got the hang of it yet, either. He'd only been with them a few months, himself. A few weeks on tour and then the rest of the year before returning to FT and he'll be an expert suave lady's man, but now he's still a beginner.
Anyhow. Hope you've enjoyed it. Please review, if you can. And have a great rest of your day/night/week/year/life. You know, whatever you have left in you. (Also, as a GaLe superfan: Gajeel looked super sexy in that last chapter before motion sickness set in. Just saying, thanks Hiro. Appreciate it. Also, thanks for the Bisca thing, that was awesome. Now, if Asuka can be the one to bring down Zeref and we can wed Lucy to Nab or Max – gotcha Jio – I'll put this manga firmly in my top two.)