disclaimer: i don't own fairy tail
title: impossibilities
summary: when everything goes wrong, it means that everything's going right for the other side
dedication: actually the two people who started the moist party w/me cause they deserve the love *rains hearts*
notes: i have a 2k tomorrow on the erg why must monday be land day *runs around screaming* *runs into sunset* ouch. okay THEN im doing april nanowrimo camp and instead of 50k im gunna gun for 30k since i don't have time and spring break crew training camp okay and it's gunna be like overpopulation something-cides 'kay cool this chapter IS SO FILLER WTF blah balh life kind of changes sometimes also i'm arting all the time and blistering from goddamn crew why is sculling so blister? ? enjohy
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Finally, some good news. Silver was getting tired of bad news.
In fact, he'd nearly forgotten that he sent Minerva out a few days ago in order to counter the whirlwind of destruction set by Knightwalker and Mystogan - no - Erza Scarlet and Jellal Fernandes. They were back to fighting on the halfway point. Although Deliora had not been caught yet, the war could be won...and once it was won, the lowly peasants who fought to their deaths could go back to their jobs, stabilizing the economy and therefore boosting Skyrrgia's status as a world power. Deliora would cower beneath the might.
Content for once, Silver leaned back in his chair and thought about his family. At once, his anger returned. She had been cheating on him, he knew it...that icy white hair. It didn't come either of them! But it was too hard to find the man who'd done it. At least a quarter of his country had white hair, and he wasn't going to go about killing every man. No, he wanted to know who it was. How could she have done it? He had always suspected, but never said, and ten years later, she was dead, and all he had left were two preteen boys and a rebellious teenage girl on his hands.
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Erza did get breaks as Laxus' personal guard. They had shifts. So on her break, she went and visited Lord Dragneel.
"Hello, Lord Dragneel," she greeted. "Sorry to bother you, but I have a few questions I'd like to ask." Her first two victims had been Evergreen and Laxus, so she would lay off the Raijinshuu. After all, if Laxus was innocent, what were the chances that the other three weren't? They literally worshipped him. Evergreen was innocent, and Laxus had been with Bixlow the night of the intrusion. Fried wasn't a big deal, he was always with the tribe, doing whatever Laxus did.
Lord Dragneel smiled warmly, canines poking out from beneath his upper lip. His red hair was spiked up in a carefully gelled up hairstyle that closely resembled Natsu's. "Ask away, Lady Scarlet. I'd be glad to answer any questions you have." Erza's mind fired into overdrive. Was his friendliness a cover? Was he lying? Did he say that to sound more suspicious so he'd be less suspicious or the other way around? Reverse psychology sucked.
"Where were you on the night of May fifteenth?" asked Erza, eyes serious.
Lord Dragneel's face twisted into a thinking expression. Although he was plenty more smart than his idiotic happy-go-lucky son, his own wife was incredibly intelligent, and, well, Natsu's dumb genes had to come from somewhere. "What is that, cinco de mayo?"
Erza resisted the urge to rearrange the topography of his face. She had no time for fools. "No, what are you? An idiot?"
"My wife calls me that." The lord shrugged happily. "It's cute."
"No, the point is, do you remember where you were?"
"Let me check my calendar."
A few minutes later, he returned, with his thinking expression firmly in place. "I'm not sure what time you are talking about, but around seven, I went to the Heartphilia's for dinner with the twerp and his lovely fiancee. And then I got home at nine thirty and went to sleep. Then I woke up on the sixteenth of May!"
"Can you prove that you were sleeping at around midnight?" Erza asked.
Lord Dragneel flushed. "Well, about that..."
The red haired warrior leaned in. "...yes?"
"...I wasn't actually sleeping. You could probably ask my wife, but, um, it'd be kind of embarrassing." Lord Dragneel coughed, turning his face away.
Erza was never really good with this subject. Flushing crimson, she backed away. "Ah, so sorry to intrude upon your privacy...GOODBYE!" With that, she hastily fled and did not look back until she heard the door slam. "Jeez," she muttered. She had never suspected him, but that was a little too much information. What a waste of her time.
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Deliora sat with his back against the wall of a bookshelf. He was in a small local library in Skyrrgia, the last place they would expect him to go. Without his mask on, he looked like a normal citizen of Skyrrgia. Ever since he was little, he'd been blessed with average looks (except his shockingly white hair, but surprisingly a lot of people in Skyrrgia owned it), average height, and average personality...until that "average" personality turned into a murderous one.
He resented being average. He resented Silver, too, for snatching Ur from her lovely hometown, where she attended magic school, and he attended normal school because average people did not know magic, and he was the boy who worked as a servant for money in her home. Deliora did not care about Ur, per say, but the principal of the magic school certainly did. She was his brightest student, and his only chance for recognition. With Silver's entrance into the scene, her talent would be gone. Wasted. Spent on learning how to use a fan and not how to create one of ice instead.
If there was something he was not average at, it was skinning and preparing meat for Ur's family at dinnertime. He knew how to kill - he knew how to kill animals, and humans were just that. Dead humans with their skin on looked wrong...unprepared...raw, even. But the stupid now-king of Skyrrgia had ruined his lovely plan. Before he could skin the fair-skinned woman, they had found him and jailed him.
What had the principal said? Kill her or bring her back. Leave the name untarnished or brightened. And on that four year span he spent planning how to kill her, more than a hundred others had paid a price for his murderous intent. What did the government think? Sixty individuals? Clearly they hadn't found the rest of the rotting flesh, skin gone from the tissue.
It wasn't so much that he enjoyed killing as it was necessary.
And he did definitely get more money than he could ever hope to earn by working at an average job from that man for killing the queen of the country. It was a prestigious school after all. His inheritance and running of the school made the principal a very, very rich man, accustomed to getting what he wanted, no matter the price. That was where Deliora considered himself the same as the man, yet different. They both knew what they wanted, and got it. But whereas Deliora acted himself, the principal paid for others to do it. Being average came with a price.
He hadn't known that all of it would end him in jail for ten years until he broke out, and then strip him of all his known assets (lucky for him, he was paid mostly in cash, and his storage place for over half of his money was never found). Now that he was out, he wasn't planning to go back in. The cursed woman had spent her last living breaths mustering up her strength to call the entire guard force, which quickly surrounded him with ice spells. He didn't know magic, which gave him nothing but a disadvantage.
But now...even the Seven Kin of Purgatory could not defeat him. He had yet to meet a single man that Silver sent after him who could chain him down. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but Deliora liked to think of himself as the most powerful man in Skyrrgia.
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The peasants and foot soldiers were so weak Jellal didn't even have to use his magic. His staves and staffs were enough. One swing of his longest staff and the ten men around him would fall, each dropping their weak metal swords. Wood could be stronger than iron!
"That was my best friend!" a woman snarled, kicking a dead man's hand with his foot. "And you just killed him, you dirty lying cheat of a man."
Jellal knew of nothing he had done to deserve such a phrase except fight, which was generally what one should do in midst of a battlefield. "Sorry miss, it's a battlefield out here. You can either retreat or die."
With a growl as eerie as a wolf, she leapt at him, thrusting her dagger forward. It was no use, and Jellal's staff connected cleanly with her ribs. He winced as they cracked; he hated listening to the sound of death, although it seemed to surround him all the time.
"Fuck...you," she cursed. "I hope you and your little illicit lover die." Wait. Illicit lover? What?
How had Skyrrgia found out about Erza and him before Faera - and how did they even find out in the first place?
He knelt down and pinned the woman against the ground, surrounded by dead bodies and people fighting to the death. "Who are you talking about?"
"Come on, everyone who knows anything in Skyrrgia knows about it by now. You, Mystogan - no, Jellal Fernandez, are having secret trysts with Erza Scarlet, who disguises herself as Knightwalker! What a whore," she sneered.
Jellal's pupils dilated and he felt his breath get heavy. Forget that she called the woman he loved a whore. Forget that they were on a battlefield. They knew. And they had the power to make or break his future just by yelling it out on this plain of fertile land. With a high-pitched yell, he smashed his fist into the side of the opponent's now-demolished head and leaped up, ready to kill them all so that they wouldn't breathe a single word.
Sure, he was safe at home. Skyrrgian newspaper and immigrants, especially any type of Skyrrgian influence was not allowed in Faera anymore. But on this piece of land, anyone could say anything! Besides, he was supposed to be fighting anyways. He might not like bloodshed, but...this was all for the good, wasn't it?
Suddenly, he came face with a familiar woman.
"Shacking up with that red-haired bitch now, huh?" she asked, hips swaying as she approached him, the line of soldiers parting for her demonic presence. "I didn't expect you to fall that low...Fernandez."
"Shut up, Minerva. Never speak like that about her again!" Jellal threatened, crossing his arms.
Minerva smirked. "It's too late, Fernandez. The whole of Skyrrgia's talking about her like that. In fact, they're talking about you like that too. Never woulda thought that this could happen, hm?"
"Who was it," Jellal asked, suddenly weary. "Who found out?"
"A little bird," Minerva sneered. "Maybe you aren't as safe as you think you are." Jellal glared. "Now, Mystogan, let's fight."
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"Gajeel! How was the engagement party?" Levy squealed, swinging her arms as he easily lifted her up off the ground.
Gajeel sighed deeply. "A disaster. It couldn't have gone any worser."
"Worse," corrected Levy.
His speech got all distorted when he was agitated. "Whatever. Azuma from Skyrrgia attacked an' tried ta make away with the Prince. The whole thing's wrecked now, covered with trees and stuff. Damnit, Shrimp! I don't care much for the engagement, yanno, but the water woman deserved somethin' better!"
Levy tried not to feel jealousy washing up in her chest. Juvia had known Gajeel for so much longer, it was crazy. She comforted him. "Aw, at least it'll buy you another week's worth of time. Lord Lockser's sure not to want the last impression of the engagement to be this!"
"Yer smart," he commented, like he did almost every day.
"Anyways, Gajeel, I've got a plan, and it might actually work." 'If Juvia doesn't already have someone she's interested in,' Levy thought to herself. "The only way for the parents to break the engagement is if someone even better than you comes along, or if an even better woman for you comes along. And seeing as the latter is totally not okay, I think you should try and set up Juvia and Prince Laxus."
Gajeel's eyes nearly flew out of his head. "W-What're ya saying?! Juvia and the Prince?"
"Who else could be better than a noble? You're the only non-engaged noble that's this high up in the ranks," Levy snapped.
"I guess ya don't know this yet, but Juvia has her sights set on this shoemaker named Gray. I hear his shop is just nex'ta yer library here."
"Gray from Ice Make: Shoes?" Levy gasped. "He moved here several years ago from Skyrrgia with his brother and sister and uses Ice Make magic."
The iron dragonslayer grunted. "Huh, wanna fight him."
"That's the least of our worries, Gajeel! How do we split you two up without another engagement happening? We could...elope," Levy suggested.
Gajeel thought about it. "That's Plan Z. C'mon, I already told ya. Yer smart. Let's think of Plans A to Y."
Levy pouted. "Gajeel!"
"It's not hopeless yet," Gajeel promised. "Yer my shorty and I ain't letting ya go!"
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tiny end of chapter omake:
"Wendy, yer still sick? Lemme sing a song for you."
"N-No!" cried the sky dragonslayer weakly. She coughed a couple times.
"Shooby doo bah," Gajeel began.
Wendy fainted.
"W-Wendy!"
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