Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
Tail, cirque of nightfall, always arrived and departed enigmatically.
Soundlessly.
Seamlessly.
It was an act unto itself.
They rolled across the country like a tumbleweed, quiet and subtle. No one could recall seeing their brightly colored steam engine roll through any station, but somehow its grandeur would pop up without warning in deserted fields across the country, leaving no tracks to herald their arrivals or departures.
Freed Justine and Levy McGarden channeled runes and mystic words. It was their playground, she held a pen and he favored a sword. When tiny Romeo Cobalt was a toddler he thought them to be pirate and writer. Their words lived with back guards and cursive. Although Levy adored Aurora and their show, her bread and butter resided in pouring over lost languages for hours on end.
The younger days had been distracted and riddled with minor mishaps, like cloaking the Master's red cape and Erza's cake, then blaming it on Gray. Their prowess developed in leaps and bounds with their love for the written word.
The steam engine was placed under constant runes and spells, dispersed only with a single exhale on Freed's command. They contested over the best philosophies and dynamics of securing a perimeter. Orchestrated vocabulary walls and heady spellchecks were their forte. It was tireless work and required the sharpest minds, but she ignored the precarious lethargy that surged through her with the effort. If only for a second before they explained it away themselves, adults believed in the magic too. The old spark left behind in their youth returned to withered eyes and chased away doubting frowns. She and Freed took to hiding around the opening gates as costumers waltzed past, just to see the bewildered shock on their faces.
When they were thirteen, Natsu jested them about falling in love and getting married and how their children would be dusty ol' books. While neither Freed nor Levy cared beyond that of a friend, it was like a marriage. It was give and take and learning and protecting what they held dear.
Their spells were chameleon skins and translucent blankets that held their world together in a dazzling package no one else could see. To their eyes, the casts glittered and thrummed with their touch.
It became tradition after her ninth birthday.
After stewing for weeks and getting absolutely no ideas, Levy's birthday dawned and Droy had nothing to show for all his thought. Jet, of course, was as fast on his feet as he was at gift giving. The fact had been a source of tension between the two friends as they shared a compartment, and Droy was forced to watch the redhead expertly wrap the present with the Sunday comics and tie it all up with yellow yarn he pilfered from Porylusica.
All of the girls had banded together to make her a dress and bought her a brand new pair of Mary Jane's so shiny you could see your reflection in the inky surface.
The Master gave her a set of books.
Natsu and Gray bought her a music box with their savings.
Even Gildarts, Macao, and Wakaba pulled through for the little girl's big day.
And he had nothing. Supposedly one of her closest friends and he couldn't even think of what to get her for a measly birthday party.
Mirajane was the one that gave him the idea, if he was being honest. She wasn't very nice in her darker days and the eldest Strauss sibling only approached him because she reveled in someone else's suffering. It might have also come from a promise to break both his legs if he made Levy cry. She had scoffed as he drowned his sorrows in the vanilla birthday cake Porylusica made and tossed her long ponytail over a small shoulder, of course you would find a way to ruin somebody's birthday.
The idea formed from nothing (rather extreme pressure) and took root as he slipped unnoticed from the room.
Well, not completely unnoticed. The girl of the hour had missed nothing with her hazel eyes.
Levy McGarden had tripped in the new shoes; they were beautiful and she loved them dearly, but they pinched her toes and made it difficult to walk. She trailed after her friend, wondering if maybe the cake made him sick. She caught up with him just outside the perimeter of their tents, palms pressed into the dry ground and willing the seeds he carried in his pocket to obey him. Droy's affinity was rusty at best in his young age, and though the years would change that, all his efforts managed was a sapling and a single daisy that day. He was knocked off his feet and right into the dirt when she tackled him from behind, crying into his best shirt and thanking him, it was her favorite present.
That's where it had started, but grew with each year.
And it didn't just stop at her birthdays. With each new field they set up in, an oak was grown. Laki provided the wood and Droy simply worked thick vines into rope so Levy could have her very own swing.
She shared the spot, of course.
In fact, it's how Natsu managed to break Lucy's arm when they were twelve. Levy was sure Natsu was gonna croak, he felt so guilty afterwards.
Now, she used it as her quiet place to read.
But not today.
No, today she was caught in her thoughts and over thinking, a habit Erza had tried to drill out of her time and time again. It never worked. She spent her afternoon on the wooden swing, running what Gajeel had said the previous night over and over in her head.
They were a circus, so they weren't obligated to follow society's conservative guidelines, right? Nobody wore proper Victorian clothing around here. The women's outfits were fitted and alluring, the men walked around with their shirts untucked, sometimes no shirt at all, and suspenders more often than not hanging around their hips. Erza wore gladiator skirts with no tights underneath and Cana flaunted plummeting necklines like they were going out of style- though one could argue they had never come into style to begin with.
Circus and eccentric went hand-in-hand. It was the way they had been raised. So why had one comment, from one insufferable man who was nothing but vulgar, bothered her?
A pebble knocked into her ankle and Levy jumped up from her seat, whirling around, hair a bird's nest with her off-the-handle temper. She didn't want company, she was in absolutely no mood to entertain anyone. Her retort was sucked back in with her breath at the sight of what had been causing her so much trouble.
The girl folded her arms staunchly over her chest and narrowed her eyes on him. "Somebody ought to put a bell on you. Oh, and, ow."
Gajeel didn't have anything to say to that; he didn't really have anything to say at all if he was being forthcoming. He couldn't just leave her be, much as he wanted to, because if he came back empty handed Lily wouldn't give him a moment's peace.
"Well, if you're not going to say anything, feel free to skedaddle. I'd very much like to be alone at the moment." Levy haughtily turned and sat back in the swing, rolling her ankles to act as if she was going to start swinging.
He stayed quiet and after a few minutes, she had assumed he left. The man was incessant, but he wasn't stupid, and the elephant rider was short on mild mannerisms for the day. Or week. Or maybe even month, she hadn't decided yet.
She suddenly felt ridiculous with the thought of holding a grudge for any extended period of time, and decided this was getting out of hand. She was Levy McGarden; intellect and heart were what counted at the end of her day. She was angry over being harshly insulted without reason and while that was justified, only a teeny tiny part of her cared about the clothes or what that lummox thought about her.
Levy awkwardly moved in the seat to twist the vines. The world would dissolve as she spun and it would just be her and a blur of circus canvases and she wouldn't come back. Worries about practices and how a real lady keeps her temper under wraps would fade away.
Her strategy dissolved in the end, her means of escape yanked away as large hands grabbed the vines and pulled her back, then let her go. What on earth did he think he was doing? She was livid with him! Can't he take a hint that she's trying to shoot off into the sky all on her own?
Despite the turmoil that warred in her blood, she remained quiet and compliant.
Each time he touched the vines at her sides, Levy felt drip by drip of understanding leak into her conscious. Her mind became blank, the world dissolved from under her and her lungs constricted painfully with the warm hand that passed between her shoulder blades to propel her forward.
Regret and shame and bitter apologies glued her heart to her ribcage.
"Hold still."
"I am."
"You're not doing a very good job."
"Well, I don't recall asking you to do this to begin with." Gajeel looked up at her, catching sight of her jaw and nose rather than her eyes, but gave her his usual scowl all the same.
"I've got a sewing needle half an inch away from your eye and temple, tread lightly." Levy moved her attention back to the cut over his brow, where blood still trickled and mixed with the sweat there. It was a shallow thing, no longer than her pinky finger, but her blasted hands were shaking from the force to calm herself. "Damn."
"Hey now, you've got a sharpened needle by my eye and you're currently attempting to sew me back up, hearing you cuss while doing it isn't exactly reassuring." Gajeel hadn't been particularly concerned with the injury, he knew the second it happened it wasn't a dire thing, but seeing her nerves so rattled wasn't doing his own any favors.
Levy scoffed, "'Fraid I'll tarnish those good looks?"
She didn't spare him a glance this time, only lowered her face to observe her work over the thick red frame of her glasses before repositioning her hand on his jaw. Levy angled his face up toward the light and dabbed her blood stained handkerchief over his brow for the fifth time to clear her view.
Gajeel flinched with the treatment, but pressed on. "So, it finally comes to surface, you think I'm handsome."
"I never said that." Levy was positive her heart had raced clear from her ribcage to her ears to beat against her eardrum. She could kick herself for allowing her voice to sound so affected.
"I heard 'good looks'. Bet yer thinkin' about that party now, huh? Overheard your discussion with Alberona 'bout how nice rolled up shirt sleeves are. Can't blame ya." His satisfied smirk twisted into a grimace shortly when she tightened the stitches.
Levy bit her lip, she muttered an apology before finally noticing the continued quirk of his opposite brow and the victory curling in a corner of his mouth. Well, she wasn't about to let him get away with that. "Anyone told Lil' he's going to have to move out, then?"
He knows for a fact she doesn't mean what he hears, but it doesn't stop dumbstruck from plastering all over his face and getting reprimanded for moving. "What? Why?"
"That head of yours swells any bigger and there will only be room left for you and your reflection."
Gajeel rolled his eyes and murmured irately. She continued her work and huffed with his childish temperament, his bedside behavior left much to be desired. Lily deserved sympathy, if anything, for the countless years he'd tended to Gajeel.
The needle pierced his skin again, she only felt a warm puff of air against her chin for the pinprick against his skin, but when she pulled the stitches tight this round he moaned gruffly. His head jerked, causing his nose to meet her jaw, and without command, his hands flew to her waist for something to anchor him.
"S-s-sorry! Are you okay?" Levy awkwardly held the needle in her hand away from his head that had slumped forward. Without any response from him, she cautiously raised a hand to push strands of his hair away from his face. The ministrations must have broken what ever concentrated spell he was under, for finally he spoke up.
"Minute." Gajeel's eyes swam in their sockets and colors flashed in his vision, as the slice from his knife must have been more tender than he originally thought. After he was done here, he was going on an all out man hunt for Lily to fix something to ease the bile that threatened at the back of his throat.
"Okay…" She gulped and shuttered, his too-warm hands pressed on her cool, uncovered skin. "G-Gajeel, could-" Levy cleared her throat, "Could you, uh?" Couldn't even finish her own sentence for Heaven's sake! At this point, she was more flustered with herself than the breach of decency in the situation. Levy only managed to convey her question in silence, passing her fingers lightly over his taut knuckles.
"Shit- I mean, sorry." Gajeel growled hoarsely and snapped his hands back from her waist so fast it nearly yanked her off balance and into his lap. Just what they would have needed at a time like this. Of course, small miracles seemed few and far between for them.
"Hey Gajeel, I heard you- Oh, Miss Levy, good afternoon." Lily faltered at the doorway. He'd come back to check on Gajeel after he ran into Jet, who mentioned that they had passed him on the way to the big top for their practice time. Droy had told him Levy had followed Gajeel back to offer her help, but he hadn't expected to find the little elephant rider trying to pry Gajeel's hands off her waist.
"Lily! I-uhm…Little assistance?" Levy sheepishly stepped back a bit farther to let Lily look at the injury and held the needle out to him.
"Of course, moineau."
Gajeel could feel the third degree coming at him like a train on a fast track; she'd leave and he'd be abandoned to deal with Pantherlily, the man who could spin something from absolutely nothing. A whispered list of curses spilled from his lips and the side of his head currently not sliced open fell into an empty palm. The motion served to pull the stitches tighter and a strained noise, the closest thing to a whimper he'd allow himself to come, fed more nasty phrases to him.
The whispered comments were thankfully missed by Lily who was rifling through cabinets for their medical kit, but every last one of them was caught by Levy. Her cheeks flamed bright red at his words, the blush spreading to her hairline, ears, and past her neck as he continued. She refused to meet his eyes, keeping her focus strictly ahead, but it gave him a good view of the creeping flush on the nape of her neck and the slope to her shoulder.
Lily gathered the gauze and cotton swabs, along with an actual medical needle, to finish up the rough job Levy had started. He gently removed the needle and thread from her white knuckled grasp and nudged her shoulder to have her step aside. "Your stitches are clean, but they need to be tighter."
Her bashful gaze nailed itself to the floor, "That's what I was trying to do."
The fact that they both felt like children at that moment was never more appropriate. Gajeel quietly obeyed all of Lily's commands, for once, and Levy shuffled into a corner, not sure if she should leave or wait to be dismissed. Her face continued to burn with the sensation of rough palms lingering on her skin. The script writer didn't think it was enough to bruise, but more than enough to leave her with a constant impression of his callused fingerprints engraved into her sensory memory.
It hadn't been the first time she'd seen Gajeel dripping blood from some sort of appendage. He was covered with minuscule nicks on his hands and scars on his right forearm, and it's never really phased her. They were never too serious, there was rarely enough blood spill to make it worth a bandaid, but the ghastly sight of him brusquely running to get back to his quarters with blood sliding past the fingers covering his eye had scared her a little. Head wounds were apt to bleed more than necessary, but the nervous glint she caught in his eye had rocketed her stomach into her throat.
And the next thing Levy knew, he was sitting down on a settee and she was shoving his hand out of the way and wiping blood from his face with her white handkerchief. The anxious shake to her hands still remained after Lily took over and was done two whole minutes later.
"Ah, here." She stepped up once more and pressed the sullied cloth to Pantherlily's hand in one last attempt to be of actual help. "S-sorry again, for the needle. I'm gonna go clean up." Her sheepish smile pained her to force, she had never felt so embarrassed.
It only worsened when she realized she couldn't get the door open without smearing the blood on her hands all over the clean wood. The compartment stayed deadly silent as Lily reached an arm over her head and eased the door back along its track. Levy rushed out the second there was an opening big enough for her to squeeze through, her voice choking on the weak 'thank you' as she disappeared.
Pantherlily furrowed his brow and studied Gajeel, "Was it something I said?"
"Nope, as always, I've screwed everything up royally all on my own. It's a gift."
"Ah, then I don't think it was you she was upset with. She's embarrassed, while there was no intent to your position, you were caught in a rather compromising one. Anyways, it's refreshing to see you two finally getting along and genuinely concerned about the other's well-being. Spring has sprung, my friend."
"Gonna let half that little speech slide and request some sort of mix to take the edge off this." Gajeel pointed to emphasize his already swollen brow, content that Lily seemed to be in a merciful mood this time around.
Lily clapped his hand over Gajeel's shoulder and gave it a hearty shake. "I suppose you've deserved a little something for entertaining an old man."
Gajeel glowered at the older man and shoved his hand away, "Knock it off, Lil'."
Circus vocab:
cirque: circus
moineau: sparrow
A/N: Even in turn of the century circus tents, they are still endearing dorks.
I would kill for a Levy and Freed interaction team up in the manga, if only for one fight scene. They would mess everybody's stuff up and there'd be a lot of nerdy laughter from really bad linguistic puns.