disclaimer: i don't own ft
title: party-crashers
summary: two countries at war, and it only gets worse
dedication: to catherine for dealing with my troubles and all my ranting and maybe we should just slice up an elk and eat it...and i'm guessing no one really knows what i'm talking about either, well, we're in the same boat, neither do i...but seriously, thanks for dealing w/me, i guess it's kinda hard sometimes
notes: i'm having trouble with the erza laxus interrogation thing – maybe i should just ship them ehh jellal can go … somewhere but the thing is the seven kin of purgatory and the demon gates just clash i don't think i'll put the demon gates in there, such a ripoff of rave i swear and but ;A; ;A; ;A; i can't think it took so long to write this chapter i lit wrote half of it around half a month ago, and here i am scrambling to finish it ahh h i always do this XD
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The interrogation was really just filled with pointless questioning that seemed to have an ulterior motive. A lot of it seemed to be about Mira, and Laxus couldn't figure the hell out why.
Erza was sweating. She didn't know how to directly approach Laxus about the spy thing, so she figured she might as well aid Evergreen in her plan. There would be no harm, and maybe she could get a little more out of Evergreen. The two did suit each other.
Suddenly, she paused in her questions. Laxus kept on rambling.
"…Mira and I are just friends, okay? You can stop asking about it – I mean, we go out to lunch sometimes but, –hey, Erza, are you listening?"
"Ah, yeah," Erza mumbled. Her countenance turned serious. "Where were you the last few nights?"
"Sleeping?" Laxus replied, a little confused. His bed creaked again. Maybe he should've gotten it checked out before Erza barged in.
"Where were you at midnight, then?" Erza probed.
He rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Last night I was wandering around with Bixlow, trying to find Fried. We never found him." Erza put that down as a note in her mind.
"Thank you, that's all," she said, standing up, bowing, then exiting as Laxus gave a weary wave. He laid back down on his bed and half groaned.
"What a pain in the ass."
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The tan thing slipped out the window – nothing new had been gained today. At first it had seemed like a treasure trove of information, but it had turned out that all Scarlet had been interested in was the Crown Prince's relationship with the white haired model girl.
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Erza crossed out Laxus's name.
Later, she'd go for Lord Dragneel. The Dragneel name was a noble name because the line descended from a series of men who had always fought for the king as his trusted knight. Lord Dragneel was currently the representative of the Dragneel family. While Lord Lockser did not have to fight, if serious times arose, they would have to send a representative as well. This was because they were a merchant noble family and therefore were not called upon to fight as their duty. All children of the nobles were trained in a family magic, but none had really been in a serious battle.
Lord Dragneel was kind and warm, but Erza had to try.
However, she'd wait until after the mysterious party she had heard was coming up. If there truly was one, then preparations would have to be made and she could possibly have to go out on the battlefield to make up for the losses of the knights who attended the party instead – after noble parties were not to be taken lightly, even if a war was still raging.
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"Gray!" Juvia called as she skipped in the door. She had to appear happy as she told him about her engagement party. Happy…happy…happy. She schooled her face rigidly into a sharp smile. "Juvia is inviting her dearest Gray to a party."
Ultear wearily stood aside and let her voice soar into the backroom. She was used to this by now.
Lyon poked his head into all the noise. "A party? Is fair Juvia inviting me?"
Juvia ignored him.
"Gray!" she called again, and this time his head turned. Juvia abruptly swooned. It wasn't her fault that he was born with such good looks. It was nearly illegal. He seemed so regal, so elegant, so refined, yet his slouch gave off an air of defiance that definitely suited her tastes.
"What party?" he asked, semi-interested.
Upon seeing his interest somewhat piqued, Juvia told him again. "It's an engagement party at the palace. Just show up at the door and tell them Gray's name, and Gray will get in – it's open to the public, but only the invited public can go."
"Who's engagement party?" Ultear wondered. Juvia fidgeted, unwilling to explain the truth.
'Oh well,' she thought. 'I'll just tell him later.' She shrugged. "No one of importance. All three – Gray, Ultear, and Lyon – are invited! Make sure to come."
Gray opened his mouth, about to respond, but Lyon, fearing that he was to say no, responded for him instead. "Of course we'll come. Rest assured." He smiled something dazzling at her, letting sparkles drift out of his mouth. She took no notice, her gaze trained on Gray.
"Wonderful," Juvia exclaimed, eyes a little brighter. "Thanks!"
"No problem," Ultear said. "I think Gray has a little something for you." At this, Gray shot a glare at her. Sighing, he retrieved the shoebox.
"Here ya go." He handed her the shoebox. Size Six, it read on the side. Juvia received the present, holding it carefully as if it were a fragile vase.
"Juvia is going to wait until home to open Gray's present, but Juvia is very happy!" Her eyes sparkled like the sea on a sunny day. Lyon swooned, much like Juvia when she encountered Gray.
She nearly skipped out the door but remembered to tell them one last thing.
"Remember, it's next week on Monday at five."
They nodded, looking pleased. "We hope you come again." Then it was just horror.
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"Deliora has escaped capture again, Your Majesty," a different squire reported to Silver. Silver clenched his teeth and swung his sword at anyone who got too close. The sharp end of his blade clipped the squire on the cheek, who fell back, nursing a small cut on his right cheek.
"Details!" he roared at the squire.
"I-I don't know, Your Majesty – ask Zancrow – he's in the infirmary," the squire babbled and hurried away, hoping to escape before Silver's wrath truly exploded. Silver let out an inhuman howl of rage and threw his sword to the ground, letting the heavy pommel crash onto the marble floor. Immediately, the servants came forward to inspect damage and repair the floor.
Silver strode out, brows creased. He had not visited the infirmary for a long time. He had never cared what happened to the peasants who fought for him. He no longer knew where the room was. Grabbing a maid by the arm and thus scaring the shit out of her, he questioned as to where the infirmary was.
Trembling, she pointed down the hall and said in a quiet voice, "To the left, and first door on your right, Your Majesty."
"Speak up!" he roared, face harsh. A vein pulsed on his forehead and he gripped her arm hard enough to bruise. She took a few deep breaths that seemed inundated with the tears that wanted to come. "Are you fucking stupid–"
"To the left, and first door on your right!" the maid yelled before letting her whole face crumple in terrified tears. He let her go, leaving her crumpled on the floor. Her coworkers picked her up and soothed her while Silver strode down the hall, heart still raging.
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Upon seeing Zancrow bandaged up and lying on the white infirmary bed, Silver reached out and let his anger flare again. "What are you doing on that fucking bed?" he boomed, grabbing Zancrow's mane of blonde and dragging him up out of bed. The machines beeped with alarms but he swung his other fist into them and they silenced with a dull emptiness that made the whole room ring with silence.
Zancrow winced. He once was proud, but was humbled before Silver's anger. "You're not…not supposed to do that," he said, weakly gesturing towards the machines. "All the nurses will come running."
"That's good," Silver snarled. "They'll need to once I'm done with you. Start talking."
Zancrow let out an unaudible sigh. "Deliora did this." He pointed at himself.
"Obviously." Silver rolled his eyes. "Tell me how he defeated you. And by Skyrrgia, have some shame. You are one of the Kin and yet you were defeated."
Zancrow continued, "He is a top rate assassin. I can't defeat him if he can dodge every bit of fire I can throw at him. Deliora isn't like a shadow, he is the shadow. People compare him to the mythological monster he named himself after, but I'm starting to think he's scarier. Nothing's worse than one that hides and tricks and blends in…nothing, not even a giant raging beast like Deliora's name once signified."
"Were you able to get even one hit on him?" Silver asked, almost curious now, rather than mad.
"Just one, at the very beginning, when I was at full power," Zancrow said, tired from being lifted up into the air with all his wounds. Silver dropped him onto his bed.
"So you're saying that I should send someone that could kill or capture him in one hit…" Silver murmured. "Goodbye Zancrow, I have someone to meet."
Zancrow wearily waved. The nurses began rushing in just as Silver left, and the door clanged behind him, leaving a silence that was not broken by the babbling of the nurses.
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"Where is Kain Hikaru? Bring me him," Silver ordered.
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Makarov rolled his eyes. He was a jovial old man, but this was a little stretching it. "You want me to take resources and spend them on your little engagement party and not on the war? Do you know how many people we're losing in the war each minute?"
"Uh…three?" Lord Lockser asked cautiously.
"Never mind, it doesn't matter," Makarov muttered. "My point is, we don't have time to spend on this. Right Erza?" he consulted the red haired woman besides him.
Erza knew how much Juvia loved romance and how much she wanted a lavish wedding. She couldn't break Juvia's heart, even if she didn't know who Juvia would be marrying and whether or not it was an arranged marriage. "Right," she coughed. "Except it would be great to have some pomp while the war is going on, just so everyone could feel a little more uplifted. Besides, this is a perfect time. Skyrrgian forces are slowly becoming more lax, as I hear there's a national crisis going on in their country. We can afford to spend a little on this. Besides, I'm expecting to hear that Lord Lockser will pay for most of the expenses, am I right?"
"Yes," he replied, nodding slowly. "All I'm wishing for is that King Makarov will bless the union and lend us his ballroom."
Makarov considered it. "If that's all it is…"
"That is all it is," Lord Lockser hastily reassured. "That's all I want."
"If that's all it is…then go ahead, be my guest. Your wish has been granted." There was no need to deny it, of course. It would be better to get this over with while both were of marriageable age and while the war was still manageable - while the war was still in it's early stages, where all it needed was for Erza to arrive on the battlefield and the battle would be won.
"Thank you King Makarov," Lord Lockser cheered and bowed happily. It was too early to display much happiness, but he would tell everyone else the good news when he got home. "Your kindness knows no bounds."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the king said lazily. "Where's my midday meal? And by Faera, where the hell is Laxus? He's been gone all day."
With that, Lord Lockser was excused.
"I believe that the Prince is in his room," Erza casually addressed the king. "Although I also believe it may not be in your best interest to retrieve him as he is resting."
Makarov sighed, rubbing a hand over the creases on his forehead, smoothing them. "Alrighty, then. Erza, make sure no one gets in here for the next two hours. I'm going to have some alone time."
Erza nodded, bowed, and then left the throne room. The king was left to his silence.
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