A/N: I LOVE GRUVION
I know it's not the smut I promised to write more of, but bear with me here.
In which Lamia Scale wins the Games, and Gray is desperate to change that. This is Lyon's POV
Words: 2079
Summary: "Congratulations on second place," Lyon says. " Can't say the same for you," Gray grits, and forms an ice wall in Lyon's face. "And what do you want?" "A rematch." And Lyon knows, this isn't just about guild pride anymore.
Disclaimer: DNOFT IWID (do not own Fairy Tail I wish I did)
"When the members of Fairy Tail are trying to accomplish something they really care about, they're unstoppable." –Lyon, Fairy Tail Chapter 140
at the end of the tunnel
Lyon merrily steps out of the inn at which Fairy Tail is staying with a pleasant smile. Even the heavy wooden door he closes fails to cage in the wild noise of consolation and celebration that seems to rack the whole neighborhood. Their spirit is inimitable, he muses.
The inn is located by the river that flows through Crocus. Lyon takes a moment to appreciate the water pale under moonlight, wavering like the soft hair of the bluenettte he has just been talking to. He hums in content.
As he turns to head back to his own guild, however, the temperature drops way below what should be a lukewarm summer evening, and frost forms on the stone pavement. Lyon feels the sulk in the chilly air, and when he nonchalantly continues walking, a patch of ice form at his feet. He easily avoids it, but sighs at the childish antic and stops before turning the corner.
"Really, Gray? You were going to trip me?" Lyon mocks, and the dark-haired teen finally reveals himself from behind the alley. He doesn't speak.
"Congratulations on second place," Lyon says.
"Can't say the same for you," Gray replies, his tone undecipherable. The uneasy atmosphere however fails to drop the smile from Lyon's lips.
"It's fine, it's not like I expected anything from you," he says smoothly. "It's alright to be envious. After all, Lamia Scale has become something else in the seven years of your absence. If anything, Fairy Tail really deserves the most applaud for making it to second place."
Gray tsks.
"I admire how well your teammates are taking it," Lyon says, "You should go in and celebrate, too. You deserve it."
Lyon speaks earnestly, because he knows how hard Gray has fought—if not from the bandages still wrapping him like second skin, then from the sweat and magic he witnessed during the tournament. But he also knows better that nothing hurts pride more than honesty, and with each word he speaks, air thicken with Gray's aura.
Lyon leans on one leg, impatiently waiting for Gray to say something. "Well, if that's all," he says after breathing in silence, and takes a step away from the younger teen.
Suddenly a wall of ice forms and obstructs his path.
"Don't you take another step," Gray says dangerously.
"Oh?" Lyon raises a brow in amusement, and crosses his arms, "and what do you want?"
"A rematch."
"Gray, the games are over. Let it go."
Gray sends an ice hammer flying. "I said I want a rematch."
And Lyon's mirth drops. He easily side steps the attack.
"We don't have to fight—"
"Ice make: lance!"
And Lyon knows, this isn't about guild pride anymore.
Lyon immediately smacks his own fist into his hand. "Ice make: owl!"
He jumps onto the giant creature and evades the projectiles, leading his opponent away from the houses and towards the river. He couldn't risk destruction to the city.
"Ice make: canon!"
Lyon grips the wings tightly and the owl flips over, but he fails to see the follow up shot, and his creature shatters.
Instead of sending an attack, he creates a flurry of ice for a cover, and hopes that Gray still follows him.
"Ice make: floor."
The river turns into solid ground as he comes in contact, and the white haired man rolls to break his fall. The icy mist he has conjured slowly clears, but arrows cut through them and one manages to graze his cheeks.
Better that than my clothes, Lyon thinks disgruntled as he quickly sheds his outer coat and top, because quite frankly, he had carefully chosen his wardrobe that morning to look his best for a certain someone when he visited Fairy Tail.
But being considerate seems far from Gray's agenda, and when the last of the flurry subsides, the two men stand face to face. They exchange glares.
"Take me seriously," Gray growls as he creates another wave of attack, but Lyon only creates enough ice eagles to intercept. He doesn't retaliate, not just yet.
Because if he has achieved one thing over years of practice, it is to read one's magic. And under the hostility and the sharp ice that cuts him, Lyon feels Gray's anxiety and hurt, like a child lashing out at his family after
But Lyon supposes that's why he's so upset; because he treats him like a child, and maybe they needed to confront it as men.
"I asked her," Lyon finally admits before Gray prepares the next attack.
Pause. No response.
"About the bet. I asked her tonight," Lyon repeats, "And she said—"
"I don't care!" Gray shouts, "Ice make: sword!"
And he launches himself at Lyon, closing the distance between them.
"Gray—" Lyon creates a pack of wolves, which manage to slash opens some bandages on Gray's torso, but are slain.
"Uwaaaaah!" Gray creates another blade and pushes Lyon into the offense.
"Tch," Lyon armors himself in spikes of ice and uses his forearm to block, but the impact still sends him sliding across the ground.
"I don't care what the fuck you say," the dark-haired man grits again, "because you have no right to ask her anything."
Gray sweats and curses as he desperately digs into his magic reserve to create a massive array of weapons, and Lyon realizes for the first time how serious he is.
The amount of magic far exceeds what Gray should have left, especially in his injured state, but the swords, the lances and spears keep forming in a spiral of menace, and Lyon snaps out of thought to prepare his own attack.
Because this has gone far beyond a friendly spar, and unless he goes full out, he might receive permanent damage.
"Ice make: menagerie."
Lyon curses as the magic they release accumulates and the ice floor begins to crack from the massive pressure, and he clenches his teeth because this does not feel like the Gray he fought in the Games. This doesn't feel like the Gray struggling to close the gap with his senior, no longer the boy working himself over pride and sibling rivalry. This is not the Gray readily denying Lyon as competition and awkwardly crashing dinner dates that should not be his.
Gray is fighting for the right reason this time, and his magic feeds off his heart's honesty. This isn't about Lyon and their rivalry.
This is about her.
Lyon cannot help but admit the strength Gray is displaying for her—but if his stupid brother's finally going to admit he's serious, he will not back down either.
With his brows furrowed in concentration and exhaling a frosty breath, Lyon raises his hand.
"Come."
And they clash, ice on ice, edge on edge, in a gorgeous storm of lethal shards and piercing shatters. Lyon's vision fails as the debris of destroyed creations form an opaque veil, and as the blades cut his skin, he senses the source of magic to direct his counterattacks.
Behind, Lyon thinks, and quickly makes a dragon like spiral to shield himself from Gray's axe. The dragon rams itself into Gray's torso and knocks the air out of the man, but not before the butt of the axe makes contact with Lyon's chest.
Both grunt in pain but at that moment the solid river breaks under the pressure and they submerge.
The water under the ice runs still as warm as the soothing evening, and washes the blood and grime away, gentle like the touch of the girl he's fighting for. But his wounds begin to sting, and Lyon's painfully reminded of the damage he's taken.
The white-haired man is the first to resurface, coughing out the water he swallowed and replenishing his lungs with oxygen. He strains his muscles to hoist himself up to a stone bridge, and crumbles to the ground panting.
"...Gray?" Lyon shouts. Only the water gurgles.
"Gray?!"
This time a loud splutter responds as the younger man breaks through the water, gasping for air. He also pulls himself up to the bridge not far from Lyon and both men lay there, their chests heaving from exhaustion.
Gray grunts as he tries to get back up on his feet, but his legs give out on him. Lyon snorts.
"You're spent beyond your limit. Give it up, Gray," he says, but the younger man ignores him, trying and falling again.
"I can't lose to you," Gray grits, his fists clenched.
But this time will is not enough to overcome physical limitation, and Gray eventually stops struggling. He flings an arm over his eyes.
"Damn it," he chokes.
"It's a draw then?" Lyon offers but Gray snaps.
"That's not good enough!" he shouts, "I still lose!"
I still lose her to you.
Lyon watch his brother in silence, then sighs. "You're a fool, you know that?"
"You trying to provoke me? I can still sock you in the face—"
"No, you idiot," Lyon coughs, "you won."
Gray splutters in surprise, but regains his scowl.
"Are you stupid? You just said—"
"I didn't say anything, you just didn't listen," Lyon says steadily. "The lady said no."
"Of course she said no! Why would Juvia leave Fairy Tail?!"
"You're dense," Lyon rolls his eyes, "you think that bet was legitimate? I said that to provoke you so you fight me seriously. There's no way I would hijack another guild's member."
"Then what—"
"I asked her for a date," Lyon answers with a grin.
"You what?!"
"I asked her for a date—a real one, not just dinner. Of course she said no, but said she would be honored to remain friends."
Gray's eye twitched. "Then you looked so smug why?"
"Because. If you're the competition, I'll always have a chance. And friendship is a step forward."
Gray groans wearily. "Are you saying we just fought like crazy for nothing?!"
"I fought you because I didn't think you were this serious about Juvia. I thought you were interfering just to spite me."
"Of course I'm serious about—" Gray begins, but catches himself. He hates how openly his brother talks about his feelings, and he hates even more how he draws him into playing the same game.
"Tch," he grunts.
"I don't see what she sees in insensitive little bastard like you," Lyon says, "but the lady still chooses you."
And Gray huffs. "Of course she does."
"You ought to tell her," Lyon smirks, but Gray wearily gives him the finger.
"It's not your business."
"Of course it is. The moment you break her heart, I'll be there to sweep her off her feet."
Gray scoffs at his brother's words. But the menacing old of their magic dissipates from the atmosphere, and they both enjoy the summer breeze as the temperature returns.
"Well that was dumb," Gray says finally.
"It was a good fight, though."
"Yeah," Gray admits slowly with a grin, "yeah it was."
"Eh? Isn't that Gray?" a new voice breaks their conversation.
Lucy?
"Hey, why are you so beat up—Lyon?"
"Gray-sama! Lyon-sama!"
Gray inwardly smiles and braces himself for the impact—and no doubt, he's soon tackled into a tight hug by the water mage.
"Oi, Juvia, that hurts," he winces, but stiffly puts his hands on the back of her head and hugs her closer.
"What are you doing out here?" he asks, and she answers on the verge of tears.
"Juvia could ask the same! Juvia was just taking a walk with Lucy-san and Levy-san, then she finds Gray-sama all hurt, and—"
"Well then, I best be going," Lyon says as he stands with difficulty.
"Lyon-sama? You're injured too!" Juvia says worriedly, "does Lyon-sama need help returning to his inn?"
"He's fine," Gray cuts her off, and prevents her from getting up.
Lyon's eye twitches, but he manages a smile. "Yes I'm fine, Juvia. No need to worry. And Gray," he says as he glances over how stiffly Gray holds Juvia, "has anyone told you how awkward you are?"
Gray grunts and immediately removes himself from Juvia, his cheeks turning red. "Shut up."
With a wave and goodnight, Lyon gathers his clothes and leaves behind a confused Lucy and Levy, a flustered Gray and an emotional Juvia.
He thinks, maybe he never had a chance after all because Gray was fighting for something he already had at the end of the tunnel. Instead Lyon applauds Juvia because she is the real victor of this fight.
He bitterly muses, Fairy Tail mages are really unstoppable when they fight to achieve something they care about. Because Juvia, perhaps even realizing, has won her battle. She has the one she wants. And if she's happy, Lyon will tell himself that he's happy for her.
A/N: gah I'm sorry for long and useless fight scenes that I'm horrible at writing. But I thought if they were gonna get down and dirty with the fight, I needed to write it out.
I also just love playing with the idea that Lyon is, in fact, older and more mature than Gray, and wanted to write in his perspective.
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