a/n: so how bout those regular updates huh?
IM SORRY MY SUMMER WAS REALLY BUSY! i graduated from high school and then got a job and i just started college on Monday and im dying. in any case, the story is coming to a close! i'd give it another two chapters, three tops, probably. please continue to support it until the end! reviews, as usual, are always appreciated.
When Elfman woke up, he felt a bit hollow, like he was already being prepped for the emptiness that was sure to cling to him for the rest of his life.
He sat up in the guest bed, ran his hands over his face slowly, and then turned to look at the calendar hanging on the wall. He stared blankly at the date, circled urgently with ink, and then down at his hands. There were nicks and little cuts from poring over papers and flipping through them, bruises on the knuckles where he had knocked on door after door. He'd kept up the work for five straight days, and his body was practically screaming, begging him last night for rest, and, with a numb feeling and sense of impending doom, he'd given in.
By sunset, Evergreen was going to be cold.
When he dressed himself, he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, accidentally doing them all wrong, and his hands shook with frustration as he redid them. His armor refused to clasp together and he nearly ripped the leather before he took control of his temper again. His feet felt numb, making it hard for him to slide his boots on, and he was certain he looked like a mess as he opened the door and stepped into the hall, but he relished it. Let everyone see how miserable he was. Let everyone see how broken the death of an accused murderer made him feel.
Mirajane was leaving her room across the hall at the same time, and she blinked at him. There was something on her lips, he could tell from the way they pressed together and how she stood a little taller, but he turned from her and plodded down the hall with nothing for her but a scowl and a cold shoulder. Maybe it wasn't going to be forever, but he intended to keep silent with her for as long as he could. It was childish, perhaps, but he hadn't been feeling particularly manly in over a week.
Just desperate.
The castle seemed sullen as he walked through it. Maids kept their heads low as they carried linens through the halls, knights whispered nervously to one another with their fingers pressed nervously at their sides. A few dared to look at him as he passed, and they turned and continued to talk.
"They say he's been working nonstop to prove she's not a killer."
"Eh? Really? Even after he found out-?"
"Shh! Don't be insensitive. The prince may be about as well!"
Laxus had thrown a table last night, Elfman remembered, and it had crashed against the wall, spilling ink and papers and all manner of things, and he'd looked ready to weep. Bickslow did not prove to be as strong and had cried for at least an hour before his master lost it. Freed had been bedridden all day, broken down with stress and anxiety to the point where he'd simply ceased to function.
Elfman knew that he wasn't going to be the only empty one by tomorrow.
A pair of a maid and a steward walked past him, talking excitedly, and Elfman stopped to listen briefly:
"Did you know that her mount has been having a fit since last night?" the maid asked.
The steward paused in his tracks, leaning over to pick up something she'd dropped. "That beast? I'm not surprised. It's an unruly thing- always reminded me of her, you know."
"What mount?" The words came out of his mouth before he even processed speaking, and the two jumped and looked up at him.
The maid seemed to recognize him and she went white. "O-oh! You're Lady Mirajane's brother! The one who's been…"
"What mount?" Elfman asked again. "I'm good with beasts- wyverns and the like. I-I can try to help."
The two looked at each other, a nervous glance moving between them, and she spoke again. "In the southern stables, sir. M-Miss Evergreen's mount, you see, she's been having the most horrible tantrum. She wounded one of the younger wyverns last night in the northern stables and had to be tied up in the southern ones."
"The southern ones are empty. Older facilities," the steward added. "That beast, I almost feel bad for it. Do you think it knows its master is dying?"
The maid hissed a warning to him, slapping a hand against his arm when the color drained from Elfman's face. He felt it go- it pooled down in his gut, a warm, terrible feeling. He had the briefest urge to punch the other man in the face for speaking so insensitively, but a deep breath brought him back to his senses and he turned his back to them.
"If I go this way, will I get to the stables?" he asked.
"Yes. Please be careful, though- the creature is beside itself, sir," the maid told him. "Ask anyone if you get lost- don't be a stranger!"
With that, she took her companion by the arm and dragged him away, scolding him under her breath, and Elfman watched them until they disappeared up the stairs. The word "dying" repeated in his head, over and over and over, so much that he didn't hear Natsu's attempts at a good morning or Lucy inquiring about Lisanna. Dying was such a cold word, he realized, and he'd never thought so until that moment.
The outside was lovely, and the breeze frisked the word away from his mind. The sky was pale blue, the grass was barely chill, and it was much warmer than it had been the past month. The loveliness was mocking him, Elfman decided, and he didn't linger on how pleasant the wind felt, or how this was likely to be the last warm day of the year. He only felt annoyance that the weather had decided to be so damn pleasant when Evergreen was going to be hung.
A boy, dressed like a stablehand, hurrying past with a bloody arm in his other hand indicated that he was going the right way. Elfman watched him go, looked at the small drips of blood that followed, and felt something akin to terror. He'd never been afraid of beasts before, but then again, he'd rarely dealt with one so worked up.
He put a hand to his neck and hoped he would keep his head.
A piercing screech echoed through the air as he turned a corner, and the first thing he saw was the glint of gold. Long, pristine wings beat through the air and the beast reared back on its hind legs, pulling against a chain that kept it connected to the stables. It snapped at the air and screeched again, and Elfman recognized the sound.
It was agony.
"Easy! Easy! Bickslow, step back before she shreds you!"
What Elfman recognized next was that Evergreen's mount was a griffon. A shudder raced up his spine as he recalled his only experience with one, when an enemy soldier had ridden one into a fight and had ripped a man's arm to ribbons with just one move of its foot. They were untamable creatures and respected almost no one, not even their own kind. They were fiercer than wyverns, had worse tempers, and their beaks were just as deadly as a set of a dragon's teeth. He recalled reading that, if they were ever tamed, they were loyal creatures and were nothing but gentle with their masters.
The griffon lowered itself back on the ground and folded its wings back up. It made a few clucking sounds and screeched again, and when it pulled on the chain over and over, it was more pitiful than fierce. When Elfman stepped closer, he found nothing in the creature's eye but pain, sorrow, much more than he had ever thought such a savage thing could feel.
"Elfman?" Laxus peered over the griffon at him, and there were bags under his eyes. Bickslow stood in front of the beast with his hands held out calmingly, and Freed hovered behind Laxus with his head turned down.
"Sir, I was just-"
"Don't get too close," the prince warned. "This thing doesn't know you. She'll bite, believe me."
The griffon screeched again and beat its wings once, earning a startled yell from Laxus, but it slumped to the ground and cooed, sounding sad and defeated. Bickslow stepped forward and patted it on the head, muttering something soothing, but the beast didn't respond. Elfman took a few steps closer until it acknowledged his presence, then chose to stop. Miserable as he was, he wasn't looking to bleed out.
"This is Ever's?" he breathed. The feathers on the griffon were an impossible gold, and the way they caught the light reminded him of the way the sun shone on Ever's hair.
"She's miserable," Freed muttered. "She's been miserable for months, but last night she lost it. Nearly tore up a poor wyvern while she was thrashing."
"I take her on walks all the time," Bickslow said. "But she just misses Ever."
"Aren't griffons rare? And hard to tame?" Elfman asked. "There aren't even any high knights that can ride them."
"Ever saved her from a poacher a little after I recruited her," Laxus explained. "She let her go, but the stupid bird kept coming back. She would sit on the perch of her window boxes and stare at her all throughout the night. She's never let anyone else ride her."
"A griffon," Elfman mumbled. "She rides a griffon."
Tomorrow, it would be "she rode a griffon."
Laxus frowned and ran his hand along the great bird until it screeched again. "Wanna guess what Ever named the thing?"
Elfman tore his eyes away from it and looked at the prince. "What?"
"And after it nearly tore a man in half," Freed muttered.
"She named her Lovebird," Laxus said, and a tiny smile crossed his face.
Despite himself, Elfman also smiled. "Lovebird?"
"After it nearly tore a man in half," Freed repeated, exasperated. "I told her, she shouldn't keep her, but she insisted."
Evergreen had named her flying killing machine Lovebird, and it was just about the cutest thing he'd ever heard.
"Do you think she wants to go for a fly?" Bickslow asked. He reached out and the griffon pressed her beak against his palm. "Maybe that'll help her calm down."
"Maybe." Freed turned to a pole next to him and fiddled with the chain on it. The griffon crooned and tilted her head, watching carefully. "Looks like she's calmed, so I'll let her off the pole."
Elfman took three very, very long steps back.
Lovebird sat up and shook her feathers, clicking her beak and whirring her head about as Freed held the chain loose. She chirruped and lifted her head to the sky.
"What's she doing?" Elfman asked.
Laxus shrugged, glancing briefly to the castle. "The jail is almost right under us. She may know that Ever is nearby."
The chain was passed to Bickslow, who gently guided the bird along as she kept clicking her beak and looking about. Elfman joined the other two once the bird was far enough away. Laxus leaned against the pole, while Freed sighed and rubbed at his temple.
"What else can we do?" Elfman asked, and the question hung heavy between them.
After an uncomfortably long, disheartening silence, the prince admitted, "I don't know."
"We've gone over every record, talked to every person who could testify against Ivan, but there's just nothing incriminating enough to put the blame on him." Freed's mouth turned down into a long scowl. "Even if we did, half that jury would still rather side with the first prince instead of a slum-born girl."
Elfman gritted his teeth and glared out at the field, where Bickslow was having an increasingly hard time guiding the great bird. If he wasn't feeling so heavy and miserable, he would've labeled the sight of the knight dragging his heels into the ground and pulling uselessly as amusing. "There isn't anyone close to Ivan in the castle? Anyone else?"
The look between Freed and Laxus didn't go unnoticed, and he waited with bated breath.
"My father's retainers," Laxus started, and a little feeling of hope swelled in Elfman until he continued. "But they vanished right after a brief investigation of the murder. Most people assume that Ever 'had accomplices' who offed them."
"We never got along, so we were suspects briefly," Freed continued. "But the case of two missing servants was deemed much less important than finding Evergreen and healing the prince."
"They just disappeared?"
"We woke up one day, and they were gone," Laxus affirmed. "Trail was completely cold. Even Natsu couldn't track them."
"How?"
"One of them, Nalpudding- I think- is a pretty experienced mage." Bickslow joined them, speaking as casually as he could with Lovebird thrashing at the end of her chains. "Ivan taught him himself. Erasing his and Kurohebi's tracks and hiding them for this long is probably a breeze."
Elfman scratched at the back of his neck. "You think they were in on it."
"Definitely," Laxus said. "And they're cowards, both of 'em. If we threatened them enough, they'd squeal without a second thought to their master."
"It's undoubtedly why they fled so soon," Freed commented. "I know I personally wouldn't have any qualms bashing in their skulls."
"Never liked 'em," Bickslow added. "Now, hey, Birdie, calm down!"
Elfman watched the griffon thrash more and more, back to her old hysterics as she screeched and pulled towards the town in the distance. "What's gonna happen to her when-" He swallowed, and a chill pierced him. He did his best to not imagine the noose.
"Griffons can't be trained to let anyone else ride them," Laxus muttered. "Likely, she'll be killed, and her meat will be dried and distributed to poorer areas of the kingdom."
Lovebird screamed, and Laxus weakly called out, "Sorry!"
Bickslow and Freed were struggling to put the chains back around the pole. Elfman stepped forward to help them, but right before he put his hands on the leash, Lovebird shrieked, gave one strong beat of her wings, and the iron around her neck broke. The two fell against the ground hard as they lost all of the resistance; Laxus stepped in front of them with a hand on his sword as she took off into the air.
"Crazy bird," Freed spat. "What is she-?"
Lovebird, rather than taking off for the sky, perched on a tree branch not far away. It sagged, almost comically, under her weight, and she watched them with a tilted head and an anxious squirm. Elfman froze as she fixed her eyes on him, and, if he didn't know any better, jerked her head the way of the town.
"She wants us to go somewhere," he said.
Laxus rubbed the back of his head and stared at the bird while she skittered up and down the tree branch. "That sounds idiotic, but I think you're right."
"Laxus?" Freed stood and beat his hands against his pants, expelling dust. "You can't go. Ever's execution is in only a few hours. Don't you want to-"
"I'll be back," he told them. "You two go back to the castle. See what you can do to delay the processes."
That little swell of hope came back to Elfman's chest as the prince walked towards the mount. He followed, praying to whatever deity that would listen.
Water spilled over Evergreen's head. She sputtered, but relished the feeling of the dirt and muck in her hair and on her skin, practically melting under the rush of the water. It was warm, scented with oils, and a few bubbles bounced along the surface as she sank deeper into the tub.
"Did any get into your eyes?" A maid leaned forward with a dripping basin in her hands. "I'm so sorry, ma'am!"
"I've never been bathed before," was all she could say. Becoming clean was making her just a little happy; she couldn't bring herself to be mad at a little soap in her eyes. "I've only ever been the one giving baths! This feels really nice."
A low, rumbling sound started in her chest and her eyes fluttered shut as the maid leaned over the tub and scrubbed her hair, her fingertips running through her curls and pulling out the kinks and grease with great care. Ever felt like a princess with each little tug on her hair and with the warm water softening her dirty skin. Being scrubbed down by a cute girl was vastly better than sitting in the jail cell with the mold and rats for company.
After a moment, she realized that the young lady was giggling, and she blinked open her eyes. The maid had a hand over her mouth. Ever tilted her head and ran a wet, soapy hand over her shoulder, washing away a particularly dirty spot, and asked, "Is something funny?"
"You're purring like a cat," the maid choked out. After another moment of composing herself, she took a sponge from a nearby table, spread bright purple soap over its surface, lathered it, and started scrubbing at Ever's collarbones. "It's funny."
"Is it?"
"All the other workers always told me you were real scary," she admitted. "But you seem kinda silly."
"'Silly.'" Ever rolled the term around her mouth and furrowed her brow. "I haven't been described like that before."
The maid dropped her eyes away from her. "Even though I thought you were a scary woman, miss, I never- I never thought-"
"You never thought I did it," she finished. She took the sponge from the girl and stretched out a leg to get at her foot. "Thank you. That means a great deal to me."
Silence filled the space between them, broken only occasionally by the sound of stirring water and drops hitting the surface. The maid was a cute girl, Ever noticed, with rich brown hair, a round, plump face, and an adorable smattering of freckles over her cheeks. She recognized her suddenly, and tentatively broke the quiet. "You're… Daisy, right?"
The worker blinked and finally looked back at Evergreen. There was a clear expression of shock on her face. "That's me, yes."
"I noticed you a few times, while you were working," she continued. "I always wanted to ask you how you folded sheets- whenever I fold Laxus', they always get all creased and wrinkly, no matter how I iron and press, but they always stay smooth and soft when you fold them."
Daisy took the sponge back and ran it over Ever's legs, still refusing eye contact. "Wh-why didn't you? Ask, that is."
She shrugged, sinking deep into the tub and sticking her leg out far. The water covered her mouth and she huffed, sending bubbles streaming through it. Her leg tingled with how hard the maid was scrubbing, but it was a good tingle, a good kind of pain. "I was scared."
"Scared?" the girl echoed.
"I don't get along with people well," Ever admitted. "And all of you are so cute, I always got so nervous when I tried to talk to you."
Daisy's cheeks puffed out as she tried to hold back some sort of giggle. "A retainer of the prince, afraid of me?"
"Yes. And I suppose, since this is the last chance I'll get: How do you fold those sheets, Miss Daisy?"
"Starch," she revealed after a long moment. "But I mix it with a dry herb blend to keep the bugs away, since the starch attracts them."
"Ingenious," Evergreen said. "I'll die filled with knowledge now."
Again, quiet shook the room. It was heavier than the previous one, however, and it chilled Ever to the bone. It was obvious that she had also made the poor maid uncomfortable by talking so easily about her upcoming hanging, and she wanted to take her words back as soon as she saw the pink rush from Daisy's face. She glanced at the frothy water and looked away as it really settled on her- this was her final bath, and she would have her final meal right after.
"I'm fine," she told her in a hushed voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"Aren't you scared?" the maid whispered. "Angry?"
Of course she was angry; being framed for murder and hung in public wasn't necessarily the way Evergreen had seen herself going. As a child, she'd imagined slowly starving and rotting on some curbside. As a knight, dying in battle. Maybe an arrow to the heart, or something quicker, like a beheading. At least that would have been natural, honorable. Instead, she was going to suffocate because of some greasy old man who was paranoid and bitter.
But she wasn't scared. She thought of Freed, Bickslow, Laxus- they'd all be there. And they'd all spent months on end searching for someway to prove that she hadn't murdered the priest. They'd watched over her for years and years, teaching her how to do everything from hold a soup spoon properly and how to swing an ax. She remembered fondly when a wyvern had nearly shredded her back in a fight and how Freed had stayed awake for hours just to help her through the pain; when Bickslow had told her embarrassing stories about people in the castle to help her through nightmare-ridden nights; when Laxus had held her hand and insisted to the court that he be able to bring her into the castle, be able to feed her and teach her and let her protect him.
She also remembered humming her way through the summer forest, her eyes trying to pick out flowers among the dirt; she remembered even the tiny detail of that startled feeling when she almost tripped over a body. She remembered taking in the sight of a broken, bruised man, oozing blood and life, and that warm feeling in the very bottom of her gut when she realized he was still alive, that she could save him, do something right for once in her life. She remembered kind eyes the color of the springs in the castle gardens, warm brown skin torn with battle scars, an annoying repetition of a word.
Evergreen remembered the betrayed, angry look on his face in the prisons and let her eyes drift shut, wondering if he was still furious. She had hoped to die with his good opinion, with all of that silly fondness that he'd had for her intact, but she had piss-poor luck and didn't deserve it besides.
But still, she wasn't scared.
She had loved, for however brief the years were, and it gave her bravery.
The griffon would alight on the top of a house (much to the alarm of the civilians, Elfman noted), wait for Elfman and Laxus to get close, and then soar to the end of the street with a flap of her wings. If he didn't know better, he'd say that the damn chicken was leading them on a chase, but the urgent way she chirped and clicked her beak said something earnest to him.
"Where do you think we're going?" he asked Laxus as they turned another corner. They were headed to an upscale area of the town- he could tell by the flowers in the pots by the doors and the well-kept windows and bricks.
"No clue," the prince admitted. "But I'm damn close to desperate."
Lovebird finally descended to the ground, sending a group of people running, and her thin tail beat up dust on the ground as she whisked it about anxiously. Her claws clutched the dirt and turned it, and she squirmed and jerked her head to the door of a building while she chirruped and fluffed her feathers.
Elfman paused to catch his breath, placing a hand over his chest. His legs burned from trying to keep up with the griffon, and Laxus wasn't in much better condition. His hands were on his knees as he slumped over and coughed, running the back of his hand over his mouth. People passing, dressed in fineries, skirted around them and looked at Lovebird with bewilderment and fear. After a solid minute, people stopped walking by all together. Word had likely gotten around, that a prince, a madman, and an overgrown lion-bird were cavorting on the main road.
"Where do you want us to go?" Laxus demanded of the griffon.
She shook her head out and clicked her beak together, jerking her head again at the door of a building. Elfman grumbled and shielded his eyes from the bright sun, glaring at the sign hanging above, and tilted his head to look over at Laxus.
"It's a bar," he said.
"I can read," he snapped back.
He pressed his lips and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Rude. "Should we go in?"
Laxus took in the sight of the bar again, and Elfman did the same. It was a tall building, with glimmering gray stone lined on the bottom half of it. The perfectly polished sign read something in glinting, swooping golden letters that he didn't care to read. Though noise came from inside, it was much, much quieter than most of the taverns he'd been to- likely a testament to its upscale clientele.
Elfman jumped back as the prince stepped forward to sweep open the door. It opened hard, banging against the inside, and all of the talking instantly stopped as the two of them walked in. The well-dressed men at the tables looked at them, their jaws dropped low mid-speech, and most of them managed nervous, uncertain bows as Laxus walked through the room.
He walked so slowly that it even made Elfman nervous. His shoulders were thrown back, his hand on the hilt of his heavy blade, and he looked coolly through the people staring. His boots sank calmly to the floor with every step, deliberate, harsh. The sound of the leather squelching sent a shiver up his spine, and he suddenly wished that he were like the second prince, that he was just exactly muscular enough, that he was handsome and in-control and proud.
"Any of you know Prince Ivan?" Laxus asked, calmly and casually.
They remained quiet as stone.
It stayed so quiet that Elfman could hear the roll of loose coins, dropped in the middle of a transaction, on the table. The sound when one fell to the ground was almost deafening to him. The room only seemed to get quieter, quieter, and quieter, until they heard a scree and a the scrabble of claws on cobblestone.
Lovebird lunged into the bar with her wings tucked to her sides so she could fit. Every patron yelped and lunged backwards in their chairs, drawing their legs up in terror. Elfman could imagine the horror they were feeling at seeing the sharp glint of her claws and the cruel curve of her beak, and he rushed forward to try and subdue the beast if need be.
There turned out to be no need, however. The griffon merely walked around the bar, flapped her wings enough to overturn a couple of tables, then finally knocked her beak on the ground, squawked, and then did it again and again until Laxus gingerly knelt down next to her. Many of the bar's guests were evacuating, rushing past Elfman, and he stepped aside to make enough room for their frantic fleeing.
"What in the seven hells is she doing?" he snapped.
Laxus pursed his lips and rubbed his jaw. "You don't hear that?"
"Hear what?"
The prince put his finger in the air while still staring intently at the floor. Elfan clamped his mouth shut and huffed, then knelt down on the other side of the mount. She knocked her beak oncemore, chirruped, then scratched her claws against the wood. She set her head against the floor and stared at him from that position, and, if Elfman didn't know any better, he would say that the look in her eyes was almost pleading.
She hit her beak against the floor again, and then he heard it.
The sound was hollow.
The floor was hollow.
He was just a step behind Laxus. His hand landed squarely atop of his as they both reached for some hold in the floor, something to grab onto, and he finally found purchase in a loose floorboard, which he ripped up with desperation. It revealed a rope handle; Laxus grabbed it and stood up so fast that it nearly ripped the floor- or was it a door?- off of its hinges.
Lovebird squealed as a stray chip of wood hit her in the face, Laxus glowered down into the newly found pit, and Elfman stared at the strangest looking men he had ever had the mispleasure of seeing.
One of them was scrawny, pale as ice, with a messy bush of black hair on top of his head. He blinked with bright yellow eyes at the people above him, and Elfman grimaced and felt his stomach lurch when his forked tongue flickered out of his mouth. The other man was significantly shorter and fatter, with bright purple skin and a bulging chin. What truly caught his eye about him, however, was the gleam of something shining on a chain around his neck.
Laxus reacted right away, reaching down into the hidden basement to pull the both of them out. The skinny man hissed and lashed out, his claws catching on the heavy leather of the prince's coat, and the fat companion writhed as Elfman reached out and yanked the chain from his neck. Lovebird screeched and nipped at their heels, her feathers ruffled and her eyes wide with rage.
"Kurohebi," the prince said. He nodded curtly to the first man. He turned to the barely-human one next. "Nalpudding. How good to see you two. Looks like Evergreen's mount was able to smell your rotten stench from the stables."
"Y-Your Most Royal Majesty!" the purple one squealed. His lumpy hands twisted together as he dangled helplessly from the prince's iron grip. "What a pleasant su-surprise!"
While Laxus began a scathing interrogation of the two men, both of whom Elfman assumed to be Ivan's missing retainers (really, how many Kurohebis and Nalpuddings could there be?), he turned the chain around in his hands. A ring hung from it, silver with an opal in middle, and he frowned as he found an imprint on the very top of the gem.
"Laxus." He shook the prince's shoulder. "Laxus!"
"Gods, Elfman, shut up for a minute!"
"Look at this," he insisted.
Laxus bit his tongue and stopped shaking Ivan's retainers around just long enough to stare at the ring. His brow furrowed with confusion, then a harder concentration, and then his face paled and he looked shaken. "Is that what I think it is?"
Elfman swallowed hard, his stomach lurching with excitement, and he marvelled at the ring in his hand. The imprint on the gem was that belonging to the high priest of Fiore, one that was so sacred that anyone else wearing it was considered treason.
"Now, you know that having this in your possession is illegal," Laxus began slowly. Nalpudding looked like he was sweating buckets, and Kurohebi kicked his legs and continued to lash out uselessly. "Especially considering you stole it from a dead man. However, if you were to tell us everything about what Ivan schemed regarding my retainer, I'd be willing to forget that my friend here and I ever saw it."
Nalpudding blanched, his skin going from a vibrant purple to something more resembling a lilac, and he steeled his face. "I ain't sayin' nothin' against the master! I'd rather die."
Lovebird scraped her claws against the wood and screamed while Elfman scowled and fingered one of the knives on his belt. Laxus tightened his grip around Nalpudding's rotund neck until he choked and scraped at the air, and Elfman watched in satisfaction. It was unusual- he had never taken delight in someone else's suffering before, but he had no sympathy for anyone who had helped Ivan. This was practically Christmas for him.
"You tell me now, boys, that it was Prince Ivan who framed Evergreen! I need to hear you say it."
"Not-not on your-!" Nalpudding gargled as his throat was crushed further. "-your worthless life, princeling!"
"I'll feed you both to Lovebird," Elfman cut in. The two prisoners looked horrified at the prospect, but a wide grin split Laxus' face. "I hear griffons love their meat so fresh that it's still screaming."
"Do it," Nalpudding dared. "I won't ever b-betray my master!"
Lovebird looked like she was salivating as Laxus turned right around and brandished them in front of her. Elfman concluded that if someone swung two juicy steaks around in front of him, he'd have a very similar look on his face.
The scrawny one paled and yipped as the beast nipped at his toes, and he finally screamed, "Stop! Stop!"
And stop the world did as Kurohebi weakly held his fists out like a shield and spilled everything.
Evergreen got to eat a delicious bowl of white lamb stew, freshly-baked bread, and a variety of sauteed vegetables, all topped off with a very lovely glass of sparkling juice; it might've been her last meal, but they still weren't eager to waste their best wine on her, but that was just fine. It might've made her puke, and she had no desire to vomit while the entire court watched as they slung the noose over her throat.
After that, they threw- threw!- her into a room no bigger than her armspan with a simple white dress, frayed at the edges and stained along the front, sitting on a bench. She sighed and slipped out of her filthy shirt and skirt, still wet and bloody and disgusting from her time in the cell, and shivered at the drafty air coming through the bars of the cell. She could tell the guards were staring at her, sneering at the way her muscles looked so floppy and untrained, her ribs jutting out of her stomach after weeks of eating only old bread, but she ignored it and slid the dress over her head. It touched her calves and made her feel no more clothed than she had naked.
She waited for two hours, twiddling her thumbs and staring blankly at the outside beyond the bars, until she heard the clink-clang of armor as her guards saluted someone. Ever sighed, slapped her hands along the back of her dress as she stood, and waited to see who her ferryman to her death would be.
A proud woman dismissed the guards, stood tall and regal in a way Evergreen could have only ever fantasized being. Her armor was glittering, made from the highest quality ore the kingdom could offer, and a broadsword hung, dangerous even in its sheathe, at her waist. She stared down at Evergreen from the freedom outside the bars, her scarlet hair catching the flickering light of the hallway.
"Well well, it's not often they send a high knight to escort trash to their ends," she mused.
Erza's lip twitched, but her eyes remained hard and professional. "I requested it."
"Do you hate me so much, Miss Erza, that you want to be my escort to death's door?" Ever traced a finger over the cold, biting edge of one of the bars, watching for any change in Erza's expression. "It's okay. I always knew you didn't like me."
"It's terrible of you to think I take any pleasure in your execution, Evergreen. I respected you." Her hands went to a ring of keys on her waist, and then she proceeded to fit one of them into the cell door. "That's why I wanted to escort you. I'm sorry that this is happening."
"You sure do sound apologetic."
That was unfair, Ever knew. Erza was only being a professional, and that she herself wouldn't do any differently if their situations were reversed. But something in her had suddenly turned bitter while she waited in the thin dress in the frigid cell, and she couldn't stop the harsh words pouring out of her mouth. She didn't want to stop them. She wanted to embrace it, that terribleness that everyone saw in her. She had no chance, no restart, and she might as well be what everyone saw, let them feel so pleased and satisfied when she swung from the ropes, let them feel that they were heroes who had rid the land of a terrible, evil woman.
Erza led her down the hall, up two flights of stairs, and then to a chamber that Ever had been in a few times before. She had sometimes been the escort, the one to take the worst prisoners Fiore had to offer to their sentences, and she had always, always hated this chamber. It smelled like vomit, and there were blood stains nobody bothered to scrub off the floor, stains from where the prisoners had dug their heels into the ground and howled as they were dragged away.
Ever resolved to go with dignity.
A cold gauntlet rested on the nape of her neck and collected her hair, almost hesitantly. Ever bit the inside of her cheek as she heard the sound of a knife being freed, felt the chill of the dagger close to her ear, and flinched as it ripped roughly through her curls. Her head felt light all of a sudden, a false sense of freedom. It was custom to rid prisoners with long hair of it before they were hung, so that the noose went on more cleanly and the executioner didn't have to fumble around. Erza had cut it just above her shoulders, and little stray hairs tickled under her jaw and at her cheeks.
"It's almost time," Erza said after ten minutes.
"Why did I have to wait for two hours in that cell?" she asked. "I've never made my prisoners wait that long. What, did you want to let me stew in my misery?"
Erza kept quiet for a moment, then said, "The executioner went missing for a couple of hours. Turns out Freed and Bickslow kept distracting him all day long."
Something clenched in her throat and her eyes burned. Idiots. Utter, absolute, irrefutable idiots.
A knock on the door from the outside echoed throughout the chamber. Ever chewed on the inside of her cheek and felt the sound reverberate down into her bones. Was Laxus out there, she wondered. Freed, Bickslow? Gods, was Elfman there with his sister?
Elfman. Stupid, stupid Elfman, with his deep laugh and ridiculous stories, with his broad arms and warm eyes. She should have never let him back into her cabin when he came back that day. She never should have eaten his food, let him fix her chairs, take her out to meaningless picnics and make her feel safe enough to tell him things. She should have turned him right back around and refused him, ignored how sweet he looked standing there while he stuttered and offered her a meal. That would have all been for the best. But he had met her, and now he was suffering, knew vile things about her, and she had hurt him.
She had hurt him.
"We have to go now," Erza said gently. She pushed Evergreen forward. "But, you know, before I take you out, I wanted to really say sorry."
"Sorry?" she mumbled. Soft hair and a stupid smile kept poking at her thoughts.
"Being so harsh with you was wrong of me. I was prepared to kill you that night when you fled," she admitted. "I've… felt truly, honestly terrible. Just thinking about it makes me sick."
Oh, she sounded so genuinely apologetic, and it made something in her gut swirl. Sweet Erza, with her honest heart. Tears pressed behind her eyes and she took a deep breath, willing them back.
It was time for a brave face.
"I would've done the same in your position," Evergreen assured. "You don't have to apologize to someone like me."
And that was all that was said as the door opened and sunlight washed over them. Ever stepped out onto the scaffold, staring at the people below sitting around below her. Many of them watched with excitement in their eyes, many were turned away in terror, and she caught a glimpse of Freed and Bickslow staring intensely at her. She could see their fingers press against the edge of the box they sat in, the blatant sorrow on their faces, and it was too much. Too much, too much, too much.
Ivan met her eyes when she turned her head. He sat next to the king, his fingers tapping along the edge of his wheelchair, and he smirked. And he waved. And he looked so delighted with himself. So delighted, and it made her want to scream, she wanted to throw herself on him and beat her fists against his face until it was unrecognizable. She wanted to take him with her. If she deserved hell, then so did he.
Her eyes swept once more across the clearing. She picked out a few more knights, including Mirajane, but saw no Laxus, and saw no Elfman. If she was hurt or if she was glad, she couldn't tell. Erza backed away and the executioner placed the rope over her head, and it filled her senses. It smelled worn and hot, it felt like it weighed a million pounds, and her head fogged as she saw the people below lean forwardly eagerly.
Evergreen turned her face to the blue sky, shut her eyes, cleaned her mind of Freed and Bickslow, of Laxus and Elfman, and slipped into numbness.
This was what she deserved. This was fate baring its fangs at her, a toothy grin, pleased that she was finally getting what she deserved.
This was fate.
The sight of Evergreen standing on the walk stopped Elfman's heart in his chest. It was raised only a story from the ground, and he could see every little flicker of emotion on her face: Pain, faintness, anger, sorrow. Her hair was freshly chopped, the soft curls fluttering around her face turned to the sky, and the white dress she wore billowed in the wind. If the executioner hadn't been putting a noose around her neck, he could have compared her to an angel, a goddess, an ethereal being whom he could die for.
"Don't drag your feet!" Laxus snapped.
Kurohebi and Nalpudding cried out in protest as he yanked on their chains harder. Lovebird trailed behind them and nipped at their boots, herding them along like sheep. They spat at her, but she sliced a sizable gouge in Nalpudding's leg as they came to the clearing and they stopped protesting.
Elfman clenched the chain and ring tightly in his hand as they rushed, and he never took his eyes off of Evergreen. Her eyes were shut, the expression on her face tense while the rope was adjusted and secured tightly above her. Erza stepped back into the chamber, an indication that they would be dropping her from the ground any second. The excited chatter of the spectators sickened him, and he walked faster, passing Laxus and Lovebird, praying for just one more second. If he had one more second, maybe he could make it right.
He gripped people by the shoulders and moved them aside, clearing a path for the prince and his prisoners and the griffon. They shouted after him, but the sight of Laxus quieted them. The scaffold was much too far away; it felt like it would take him a hundred more years to reach it. As he finally pushed through the last layer of people, he heard a voice screaming- "Stop them! They're interrupting the ceremony!"- and the telling sound of armored boots against the ground.
The executioner pushed Evergreen towards the edge of the scaffold.
Her chained hands pressed together. Her toes curled against the edge of the wood.
Laxus shouted behind him as the guards tried to stop them.
The executioner put his hand on the lever.
Her shoulders hunched over and her knees shook.
"Stop!"
Elfman had always been something of a quiet person, even when he was wrestling with Natsu and Gray. Their voices were so harsh and loud, and they'd drowned his out since they were children. But now, he lifted it as loudly as he could, and silence slammed down onto the clearing like a lid. His throat felt suddenly sore. He slapped away the guard frozen next to him, putting the hand on his throat and clearing it.
"Elfman?"
Her eyes were open, wide and curious as she stared down at him. The wind blew behind her, sending her skirts into a ruffle. A single strand of uneven, uncut hair settled in her face.
The executioner took his hand off of the lever.
"Laxus!"
Elfman snapped his head to the side, greeted with the sight of Makarov standing up from his seat furiously. Next to him, Ivan was red in the face, a knobby finger pointed straight at them, and he realized it was him who had called for the guards. They had interrupted his entertainment.
"What is going on?" the king demanded.
Laxus shouldered his way past a wall of knights and tossed Kurohebi and Nalpudding to the ground. The people around murmured, pointed, stared curiously, and a sense of unease was beginning to settle on them. Ivan looked positively mortified as his retainers squirmed on the ground, trying to untangle their bindings from one another.
"You can't hang an innocent person," Elfman shouted. "You-"
Like a wave, a surge of laughter swept over the crowd. He clenched his fist, fighting the urge to beat them against something, someone, anything. Only the touch of Laxus' hand on his shoulder calmed him down, and he began to speak in a much calmer, more professional manner that had Elfman seething with envy. He put his hand atop Lovebird's head as she walked up next to him to give himself something to do. She ruffled her feathers and bit in the direction of her prisoners.
"My retainer did not murder the high priest," Laxus began.
"You've said that a million times," called out someone from the back of the crowd.
Laxus clenched his jaw, Elfman noticed, but kept his calm. "So I have. Except now, I have concrete evidence that Prince Ivan has orchestrated this entire event."
A laugh, more like a bark, came from Ivan as he hunched over in his chair. "You're really going to blame me now, son?"
"It isn't blame if it's the truth," Elfman protested.
Laxus put a hand against his chest and shook his head, clearly saying "let me." He cleared his throat and yanked on the bindings wrapped around his prisoners. "As I'm sure many recall, we thought that Kurohebi and Nalpudding were killed and disposed of shortly after the murder took place. But, as you can see, that isn't the case."
Nobody spoke, but Lovebird rounded on the two men with a ravenous look in her eyes.
"We found them hiding out in the town. And why would they do that if there wasn't something to hide, hm?"
Ivan scoffed. "My soldiers were obviously frightened of that maniac coming back to kill them!" He jerked his chin at Evergreen and scowled.
"One more word, and I'll-" Elfman stopped himself and slunk back again. When he looked up at Evergreen, she was looking down at the scaffold with nothing but pure wonder at the scene.
"Maybe," Laxus continued. "But they spilled the whole story, after some gentle persuasion."
Another rush of whispers took the crowd. Ivan looked pale.
"The crown prince is afraid that I'll be named the heir," he said. "And so, he tried to throw me off, threaten me away by hurting one of my own personal retainers- the one that he knew that could be the most easily framed, all because of where she was born.
"Ivan lured her to the high priest's chambers with false summons, then proceeded to murder him with a weapon similar to hers. He even poisoned and drugged himself for all this time to make himself look like a victim to her." Laxus clenched his fist. "Ivan is a traitor to this country! A conniving madman who is threatened by his own son, a man who would frame an innocent woman, who would lead us into endless wars by his greed!"
Silence.
Elfman watched as Evergreen turned her head away, her shoulders quivering.
Silence.
And then a bitter laugh.
"Are we really going to believe this insanity?" Ivan cackled and got to his feet. "Really? A fanciful story, my boy, but it's only that- fanciful. Why would I need to intimidate you?"
"Because you know that the king prefers me as his heir," he spat back. "Because he knows that you're a liar, a demon who would beat his own son for something as simple as not holding a sword right!"
"Oh, grow up!" Ivan shouted back. "That was years ago. And it has nothing to do with the matter at hand."
A low rumbling came out of Laxus' throat, and it was Elfman's turn to hold him back. His eyes had dilated almost into slits, and he looked enraged, almost draconian. The people near them were backing up, and even Lovebird swished her tail nervously.
"If you ask me, this was one last desperate attempt to save her miserable life." Ivan sat back in his chair. "We should proceed with the hanging."
The executioner put his hand on the lever once more, Evergreen stiffened as the scaffold swayed, Elfman heard himself shouting, and then:
"Untie her."
Makarov looked exhausted as he spoke, and everyone's attention flew to him. Ivan looked tense and coy as he glared at his father, an obviously false smile on his lips.
"Come again?" he asked. "Do you not recall what this whore did to me, did to the priest?"
Elfman tried to not imagine bashing Ivan's head into a wall.
"That's enough, Ivan," Makarov snapped. "Please, untie her."
"Father," Ivan simpered. "You can't be serious. This woman is a traitor and enemy to our crown. Even if she didn't murder the priest, as my son has so falsely insinuated, it's better off for her to be dead. Wouldn't you agree that she's a bad influence on him?"
Laxus took wide strides towards his father. "Stop that."
"We all know that the only reason she maintained her position is because she screws the prince!"
"Shut up!"
It took four guards to hold Laxus back from his father. Elfman watched as Laxus strained against them, while Ivan glowered up at Evergreen, and finally Makarov slapped a hand over Ivan's wrist.
"You'd do well to quiet yourself, Ivan," he warned. "And Laxus, you calm down."
"Father?" Ivan said slowly.
"Ivan, I'm placing you under arrest."
The crowd muttered to one another in shock, people leaning in and whispering behind their hands while shooting curious stares up at Ever, still teetering precariously on the scaffold. The executioner appeared befuddled, and Erza had stepped forward, clearly unsure of what to do. Lovebird screeched and paced underneath the platform, chirping up at her master eagerly.
"Hush now!" he heard Ever yell down. "Hush now, Lovebird!"
When Elfman wrenched his eyes away from her, he found Ivan sputtering and waving his arms, still trying to convince the king. "You can't be serious!" he was yelling. "I'm your son! You can't-"
"I know you're rotten enough to do every single thing that your retainers have admitted," Makarov snapped back. "I suspected from the second all this happened that it might've been you who orchestrated all of this. I wanted to believe in you, Ivan."
Ivan snapped, and so did the air around him. It crackled with fire and lightning, the wind whipped, and everyone surged back and away from him. "So what if I murdered that useless old man? So what if I blamed that moronic imp? I'm the only suitable candidate to lead this country, you stupid, spineless, old-!"
Elfman wasn't entirely sure when he had moved his legs, when he had passed Laxus, when he had wrapped a hand around Ivan's neck, plunging it through the whipping magic and suffering burns and scratches and jolts that made his finger spasm, but he had. Ivan's eyes bulged out of his head and he squeaked, wildly grasping at his fingers and gasping. The spell fell and Elfman squeezed harder, harder, and harder.
"I'm tired of you," he growled. "I'd break you in half right now if they let me."
He waited a hopeful second for Makarov to say something along the lines of, "Please, do break him like a toothpick," but it never came. What instead came was Freed and Bickslow, pounding across the clearing, and a sigh that seemed to age the old king another decade.
"Arrest the crown prince, you two." He jerked his head towards Freed and Bickslow. "I'm sure you've been waiting months."
Ivan howled and kicked his feet as Bickslow tackled him to the ground, not careful at all when it came to roughing him up, and Freed stood at attention with his sword pointed precariously at the tip of Ivan's nose. The guards released Laxus, two of them collapsing with great grunts and rolling their shoulders free of strain.
"I'll kill all of you!" Ivan screamed. "Every last one of you, I'll turn you to ashes!"
Elfman figured that since he had been able to choke him into submission, it wouldn't be too presumptuous to assume that he could kick him straight in the head without getting scolded. So he did, sending the toe of his boot right against Ivan's temple, and he immediately stopped blathering and fell silent.
Most of the clearing had cleared when Ivan had started his tantrum, and Makarov began a slow, heavy walk towards the scaffold. Erza and Evergreen looked down at him, along with the executioner. His eyes snapped towards the latter, annoyed, and he snapped his fingers.
"Didn't you hear me? This is an innocent girl. Untie her and get that rope away from her neck this instant!"
Evergreen sobbed when Laxus collected her into his arms only a minute later, smoothing her chopped hair back silently and glaring straight at the limp, motionless Ivan. He rubbed her wrists, smoothing his fingers over the bruises there, and his eyes drifted over to Elfman.
He swallowed and looked away, embarrassed, but he didn't miss the slight smile that the prince had given him. A semblance of a grateful look, as humble a thing as the prince could probably muster. He knew what it meant:
There was no rope around Evergreen's neck, and that was all that mattered to any of them.