The Beautiful Thing About Princes and Queens

by Lady Norbert

A/N: The conversation in this chapter was inspired by a suggestion from beta reader Veronica, and so this chapter is dedicated to her. :)

Chapter Two: Love's Complicated

Mystogan doesn't generally stay in one place long enough to be asked questions, and even if he were asked, he probably wouldn't answer. He is, in fact, rather practiced at the art of not answering questions. Master Makarov knows all that he needs to know, and a few things that he honestly doesn't need to know but has somehow managed to guess. Porlyusica, too, knows most of the truth, not least because she's so far in the master's confidence. Laxus somehow figured out part of it.

The facts are relatively straightforward, though it would hardly be accurate to call them simple.

He was born in the world of Edolas, the crown prince of the realm. His father, King Faust, became obsessed with the parallel world of Earth Land and its apparently limitless supply of magical energy. He hatched a plan to steal this power, in order to replenish the resources of Edolas. This was bad enough, in the prince's estimation, but Faust then used this power to conquer other parts of the world and expand the reaches of the Edolean crown's authority.

Jellal fled Edolas for Earth Land, hoping to find a way to close the portals through which his father siphoned the stolen power. Eventually, he adopted the pseudonym of Mystogan and joined the magical guild of Fairy Tail. Being from Edolas, he has no magic of his own, but his skill with his various staves has enabled him to achieve the rank of S-Class. Even Laxus, who was always insistent that he was the strongest member of the guild, reluctantly conceded that Mystogan was his equal.

This is his history, and it cannot be changed or denied. But it can be concealed, and conceal it he does. The rest of the guild does not need to know his true purpose in Earth Land; thus far, they do not even know of the existence of Edolas or any other worlds which lie parallel to their own. He prefers them ignorant of this for their own sake. The time may well come when the truth will be forced upon them, as the truth of his appearance was forced upon Erza.

It was a strange thing to learn, that everyone he knew in Edolas has a counterpart in Earth Land. Many of them have the same names; Erza Scarlet, for instance, is the counterpart of Erza Knightwalker of the royal army. Some of them have similar physical appearances - Erza again is a good example - but others are wildly different, and the personalities are all different from the ones he knew in Edolas. He did not have occasion to meet all of the Edolas versions of his Fairy Tail guildmates, however, so he can only judge by the ones with whom he was acquainted in his life as Prince Jellal.

As Mystogan, he is little more than acquainted with anyone. He likes the shadows and the silence. He conceals himself mostly for Erza's sake, but also because he himself derives some sort of odd comfort from it. There is power in mystery. Then, too, if he could find his way to Earth Land, so could someone else, and he does not like to take the chance of being recognized as the prince in absentia.

All of this is confirmed truth.

It is not, however, the whole truth of Mystogan. There's another facet, one that he keeps hidden even more than his face or his past or his name. Makarov knows this, too, and Mystogan is at a loss to understand how he divined it. But he does not ask questions any more readily than he answers them, so he elects to remain unenlightened.

He does ponder, in moments of solitude when he is at leisure for such reflections, when it happened. He is not entirely certain. Mirajane achieved her S-Class status only a few years ago; he tries to use that as a marker for a timeline in his mind. Lisanna was lost to them not very much later, and her grieving sister's personality shifted as a result. Mystogan had taken only a passing interest in the 'demonic' Mirajane, but the person she ultimately became was another matter entirely.

He had seen little of true kindness, during his years in Edolas, except what he had known from Pantherlily and a scant few others. To see so much of it from one person, to witness that transformation of spirit... he supposes that it is natural enough that he should find it irresistible. Love is a peculiar thing in its own right, and all he can say for sure is that he was somewhere in the middle of it before he even realized he had started.

He is at the guild hall once again, turning in a completed job. It is nighttime; most of the members have gone to their personal residences. He does not trouble himself to cast the sleeping spell, therefore, and perhaps this is a mistake but it is a mistake he cannot bring himself to regret.

He steps into the great room where there has evidently been another brawl. Typical. And she is there alone, patiently picking up the strewn glasses and chairs like a mother straightening up after her errant children. She hears his step and turns, and there is a flash of something uneasy in her huge blue eyes before she relaxes with recognition. "Mystogan!"

There is a note of pleasure in her tone when she says his name, and his pulse quickens for a moment. "Mirajane."

"It's so nice to see you!" She beams at him, eyes closing briefly. "How are you?"

"I am well, thank you. And yourself?"

"Oh, I'm just fine! We're all doing much better now." She seems to know that she does not need to elaborate; he imagines that someone must have mentioned his brief participation in the Battle of Fairy Tail. Makarov, or possibly Erza.

"Good."

She gives him another sunny smile, then goes back to her tasks. He watches her for a few seconds before moving to assist. An upended table has bounced into a corner; he returns it to its rightful place so she doesn't have to struggle. He circles her around the room, lending his aid but always keeping her at a distance.

He is not quite sure what he would do if she came too close.

She has a basin filled with dirty glasses, and sings quietly under her breath as she washes them. Soap bubbles rise up, drifting lazily away from her. He wonders how they can stand to do so. It is a wrench, sometimes, for him to be away so much, but he doesn't know how to stay and be near her either. In some way that he doesn't know how to explain even to himself, she absolutely terrifies him.

Be my queen.

He wonders how she would respond to that, if he took Makarov's advice and spoke the words. He is a prince; he has a reasonable belief that someday he will be king; she would be a flawless queen. But Edolas has its own Mirajane, and though Mystogan has never met her, he is uncertain that the fabric of reality could bear the weight of two such creatures in one world.

He cannot promise to always stay with her, and he cannot ask her to go with him when the time comes. So he remains silent, a shadow struggling to be content with merely basking in her light.

The last glass is placed in the drying rack. She glances over as he finishes arranging the furniture in its correct pattern, and smiles once more. "Thanks so much, Mystogan."

He looks at her, drinking in the visage that plays such a leading role in most of his dreams, and then bows at the waist. "I should go."

"So soon?" He can't help relishing that little bit of disappointment which creeps into her voice. "Well... if you must. Here, though, take these." She ducks out of sight for a moment, and returns with a small basket filled with apples. "Porlyusica told Master that you were eating hers the last time she saw you, so I was saving some for the next time you came home. I'm glad I got to see you to give them to you!"

She comes within arm's reach in order to give him the gift. Her fingertips brush his palm as she puts the basket handle into his grip; he can smell the apples mingled with the fragrance of her soap.

"Thank you, Mirajane." Her name lingers on his tongue.