Fairytale of Doom

By CrimsonStarbird

Chapter Eight – After All, Dear, What is Idle Prattle For?

Natsu was bored.

Desperately, mind-numbingly, frustratingly bored. He'd thought being flung into an alternate universe would have made for an interesting turn of events, but no, here he was, letting the gorilla maid and the twitchy manservant dress him up like a child's doll in a trial run for a ball he wouldn't attend if it was the only venue serving food in this whole fantasy world.

In fact, he was so frustrated with the whole affair that he was genuinely considering going to join that meeting Zeref was currently having with his privy council. Even a bunch of stuffy old fools arguing back and forth about the laws of a made-up kingdom had to be better than this.

Only the thought of having to admit to Zeref that he, Natsu, had been wrong held him in place. That was in a whole different league to merely agreeing to a temporary truce.

After all, as much as Natsu hated to admit it, Zeref was his best bet at getting home. A spell powerful enough to send them into another world required a master of magic to undo. And even though knowing Zeref would resume trying to destroy his guild the moment they returned made Natsu loath to do anything other than strangle him with his bare hands, Zeref had made some annoyingly good points… and to make matters worse, he was actually being civil about it.

There was a part of Natsu that wondered if Zeref would be acting like this if he had been trapped here with anyone other than his estranged brother, but he forced the thought back down. And wrapped it in chains and heaped earth over it and set fire to every map that purported to show the place where it was buried. He hadn't wanted to go there when Zeref had first said it on the battlefield, and he certainly didn't want to go there now. It wasn't important. He was going to keep his head down, get through this, turn the tide of war, save his guild, destroy Zeref, and put all this behind him.

Oh, but he was bored.

In fact, he was even feeling disappointed at how easily he had won the argument with the servants to integrate his scarf into the princely outfit they were creating for him. At least for those thirty seconds, he'd felt like he was doing something. But there was nothing he could do here without going back on his declaration that politics was for losers.

Or was there?

Maybe he didn't need to be in that room with Zeref to find out what was going on. Maybe Zeref would never need to know.

He extracted himself from the giant maid's attention with surprising ease – though she'd remained stoic, the manservant hadn't been able to suppress his tears of joy when Natsu had returned to them of his own free will, and he thought they'd both put up more of a fight when he left again, but perhaps he was now dressed appropriately for a prince. What would he know?

He retraced his steps down to the chamber where Zeref had disappeared for his meeting. Two guards flanked the closed door. They each stood a little straighter as Natsu approached, watching him intently. Fighting back the temptation to blast his way through – which, to be fair, was how he would greet the guildhall after a successful mission as much as a dark guild's hideout still in the middle of one – Natsu stopped outside.

"I'm sorry, sire, but no one is allowed to enter the chamber while the privy council is in session," one of the guards explained. "His Majesty's orders."

"Oh, I'm sure," Natsu growled under his breath. "Well, I don't want to go inside, obviously. I'm here to help you stand guard."

The two guards exchanged glances. "Is His Majesty expecting trouble?" one of them ventured suspiciously. Natsu got the impression that they were there more to dissuade eavesdroppers than protect the people within; they were in the heart of the castle, after all, and unlike his own world, this one did not appear to be in the middle of a war. No one would spend this long organizing a stupid ball if there was fighting to be done.

It seemed he needed a different approach. He grimaced. Lucy was so much better at this sort of thing… but it wasn't as though he never paid attention when they were on missions together.

"My brother…" Hell, he hated that word. He had to think of it as just another aspect of the role he had been thrown into, no more real than him pretending to be a prince. Playing his part here didn't make him really Zeref's brother any more than Erza's mercifully brief acting career had made her Prince Frederick.

Bracing himself, he continued, "He thinks it would be a good idea to help me practise discipline. I can't exactly help with the stuff he's doing in there, but I can watch his back while he's doing it." Looking for the best place to stick a knife in it, as soon as they were home again.

It was worth the momentary humiliation. The guard who had spoken was regarding him with something closer to respect. "Oh, certainly, sire; please forgive me for doubting your intentions. We would be glad to have you with us."

He shuffled over to offer Natsu his spot on the right-hand side of the door, but Natsu ignored him, standing directly in the centre of the double doors. The guard's eye twitched, although he was fortunately too polite to point out a beginner's error to his prince. Satisfied, Natsu leaned back against the doors. Lucy would be so proud of him, he thought, and Gray would be so jealous, as he proved he had wits in a world without magic.

His stomach twisted at the thought of his friends. Were they also among those who had been dragged here? What would they say if they could see him now, acting like their ultimate enemy's buddy?

It would be worth it if it got them home, though.

If it got them all home.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for his friends. Even this.

Pushing all thoughts of them away, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the thin whisper of sound from the room behind him.

A gravelly voice was saying, "Of course, as we all know, securing a bride for the prince is far from the only purpose of the ball."

"Don't tell my dear brother that; he will be most disappointed to learn that the world does not revolve around him."

Natsu almost didn't recognize Zeref's voice. He'd heard him timid on Tenrou Island, patronizing during the battle against Tartaros, and almost earnest when they'd faced each other in the war – but here he sounded cool, confident, and entirely in control. If Natsu hadn't witnessed his moment of hesitation outside the room, he'd have said Zeref had been born to this world and his irritating role as the one in charge.

It didn't stop him from being annoying though. There was no need for that sort of comment. Besides, what was the point of listening in if they were going to dance uselessly around the topic? Zeref should just ask the first man what the hell he was talking about and be done with it…

Oh. Right. Zeref couldn't ask, because he had to pretend he already knew.

When the ripple of laughter had receded, the gravelly voice asked, "Speaking of which, have you given any further consideration as to whether you would like us to extend an invitation to the Guardian Kingdom? The Princess Aurora is of marriageable age, and an alliance would be highly beneficial for us."

Someone else spoke up. Natsu wished he had faces to put to the voices. "I had heard that the Princess Aurora was already betrothed to their up-and-coming war general – Phillip, was it not? The engagement has been in place from birth. The people already refer to him as prince."

"Engagements can be annulled," the first pointed out casually. "And I have heard the Princess Aurora is quite a feast for the eyes…"

"Careful," Zeref said calmly. "Or one might think it isn't my brother you are hoping will get engaged at this ball, after all."

There was another laugh, further establishing his position of power at the speaker's expense. Outside, Natsu ground his teeth. He wasn't interested in the pointless banter of entitled men. Why couldn't they just skip to the important stuff?

The gravel-voiced man spoke up again. "While attempting to set up the prince with an already-engaged princess is likely to cause great unrest for little gain, I believe there is still merit in inviting the leaders of the other kingdoms to our grand ball. Extending the hand of friendship will serve to further obfuscate our ultimate goal. A false sense of security, if you like."

Another speaker demurred. "This is a dangerous time to be strengthening bonds. By all accounts, the Huns are at the borders of the Imperial Kingdom already. If they were to turn and request military aid from us as their ally, we would be put in a difficult position."

"We are fortunate for the Imperial Kingdom's pride," added a third. "They would rather conscript their own peasants than beg for trained soldiers from their allies. It will work in our favour when we move against Rozenphalia, but I agree that this is not a good time to be giving them ideas-"

"You appear to be lost, Your Highness."

Natsu started. So intently had he been concentrating on the voices from the room beyond that he had entirely filtered out the sound of approaching footsteps, and it was all he could do not to drop into a battle stance.

Straight-backed and stern, Lady Tremaine walked through someone else's castle as though she owned it. Her floor-length dress gave her the illusion of height, and her very posture demanded respect; on either side of Natsu, the guards stood far straighter than they had at his own approach.

The lady's cheeks seemed to struggle to form a smile. It sat no more naturally on her marble features than it would have on the lips of a devil, a whisper from the mouth of a lion. Sardonically, but not so much so that she could be called out on it, she said, "Outside a room hosting a confidential meeting of government is an interesting place to take a nap, sire."

Natsu's fist clenched. "I'm standing guard."

"Hardly a job befitting a prince," Tremaine sniffed. "I'd have thought the fully trained soldiers in their battle-ready armour would provide a more suitable deterrent than a charming prince, although I am sure that His Majesty will appreciate the gesture."

The way she said it made it clear not only that she knew Zeref would think it as ridiculous as she did, but that she'd love to be the one to tell him.

"While I admire your dedication to the tasks of servants," she continued, "I must ask for you to stand aside so that I may enter."

"No one's allowed in while the council is in session," Natsu shot back.

Her lip barely curled, for all the derision and more was carried by her voice. "And how do you expect the council to be in session without me present? I am the one who called for this meeting."

Natsu did not budge. One step closer and Tremaine seemed to loom over him, though she surely couldn't be that tall.

What had brought this on? It wasn't that long ago that she had stood up for him, when Zeref had decided to throw him into the dungeons. Why was she now acting like the most civil of enemies? His instincts had been absolutely right not to trust her.

She did not sneer. It wouldn't have been dignified. "While I, and the rest of the king's council, appreciate that your talents lie in… other areas than the running of this kingdom, we would be grateful if you did not let your own inability to grasp the situation prevent others from doing the same."

With that, she reached past him, turned the handle, and strode inside. The voices ceased the moment the door opened, but promptly resumed again as it closed, clearly unfazed by the intrusion.

It might have come as a surprise to those who knew Natsu that he simply stared at the door blocking his way in silence, letting the insults slide. However, something else had caught his attention. Something far more important than the meaningless secret conversation inside.

Beneath the stuffy smell of Tremaine's perfume – an old mansion packed full of flowers and left to die – he had caught a scent he'd hoped not to find in this world, but which he'd recognize anywhere: Gray. Gray was here, and he'd been close enough to this sinister woman for her clothes to still be carrying a dash of his scent.

Without a backwards glance towards the perplexed guards, Natsu followed her trail back through the hall. Corridors, stairs, dining halls – all the trappings of luxury blended together, forming a backdrop he would sooner have burnt to the ground than lived in. The trail led upwards into a tower. Judging by the dust drifting in the sunlight, this wasn't a regularly used part of the castle, although one good thing about supposedly being a prince was that the servants he passed were far too polite to ask what he was doing here.

At the top of the tower was a door. A chunky padlock held it shut, and there were bars set into the window. An isolated cell in a deserted tower, when there were perfectly functional dungeons down below? It might have been mysterious, if it hadn't been inevitable; after all, if Gray had been thrown into the dungeons where Natsu was, Natsu would have seen him.

Bedraggled, dirty, hair splayed limply across a too-pale face, Gray slumped across the floor in a web of chains too slack to hold him up.

"Gray!" Natsu hissed. It still carried like a shout in the hush of the abandoned tower, and yet Gray did not stir. "Gray! Hey! You okay?"

Although his draconic senses could pick up the faint rasp of each breath against the damp floor, there was no sign that Gray had heard him – no sign that he was even able to hear.

Natsu's fist slammed into the bars. The doors stood firm, the impact force reverberating up his own arm. Was this what Zeref had been up to while Natsu had been in the cells? Ingratiating himself with the fantasy kingdom's key players and using their information to hunt down Natsu's friends; getting the strongest members of Fairy Tail out of his way in a world without magic before returning at his leisure to destroy those who had remained in Fiore?

So much for their so-called alliance. Natsu should have throttled Zeref the moment he got out of the cells. He was going to pay for this.

Ursula had been… strange.

Now, Juvia was not normally one to call others out on their weirdness. Years of being ostracized for bringing the rain wherever she went had taught her not to judge others for their quirks, especially when it came to things they could not control. She knew others in the guild still thought she was weird for how she chose to express her undying love for her darling Gray, but they accepted her despite it, and she was at peace with herself and her feelings. Especially since her last memory of the real world before waking up here was of him being as willing to sacrifice himself for her as she was for him.

Her friends may have thought her unconventional, but her heart was true, and that was the most important thing.

Ursula, though…

It wasn't the tentacles that had put Juvia off. She had been a little shocked upon arriving at the sea-witch's cave, true, but after seeing how nimbly they had enabled Ursula to navigate her cave, and the clear benefits of having multiple arms when it came to potion-brewing, Juvia was starting to think that being part-octopus was actually preferable to being part-fish.

It wasn't the way Ursula kept talking to her cackling eel pets as if expecting a response, either. Or the fact that Juvia wasn't convinced that a business model which apparently involved helping countless merfolk purely out of the goodness of Ursula's heart was legit.

It wasn't even the fact that Ursula had delivered her business pitch as a song-and-dance number. On the contrary, Juvia had a lot of admiration for a woman with the confidence to suddenly start belting it out as if no one was listening. While she hadn't enjoyed being called a poor unfortunate soul, she couldn't exactly argue against it, given her predicament.

But what kind of person wanted Juvia's voice in exchange for restoring her legs?

At least it was a price she could pay, rather than whatever passed for currency under the sea… but it was definitely peculiar. Ursula had a perfectly good voice of her own; in fact, Juvia had rather enjoyed her performance. What was she going to do with Juvia's?

And it wasn't permanent, was it? Ursula's pitch-turned-performance hadn't been big on the details, and the problem with having written contracts underwater was that the fine print had, well, smudged more than a little. Juvia hadn't exactly had a choice: she didn't entirely trust the sea-witch, but she did trust Lucy, and Lucy had told her that taking Ursula's deal was the way forward in this tale. Nevertheless, she wished Lucy had given her more information. She would only get legs for three days, so would her voice be returned to her after that point?

Well, even if that wasn't the case, there was probably something they'd be able to do when they returned to their own world. So here she was, staggering out of the waves onto the same beach she had hauled a near-drowned Lucy up earlier, and hoping that she'd never encounter the sea-witch again.

Though, at this rate, she might never encounter anyone again. The beach was desrted. No Lucy, and certainly no Gray. Not even a lone shaggy dog running over to meet her.

Shyly, she emerged from the water, growing more confident as the outfit she had been wearing when she'd been dragged into this world materialized around her. One small token of compensation from the magic that had cast her into this awkward role, she supposed. Between her legs and her own clothes, she felt like herself again – right until she opened her mouth to call out for Lucy.

Right. She couldn't speak.

And there was no one here.

Panic began to creep up like the tide tickling at her toes: such a tiny thing, but growing, growing. Surrendering her voice hadn't seemed like that much of a deal when she'd thought Lucy would be waiting for her, with her fairytale knowledge and her companionship to support Juvia through it.

It hadn't occurred to Juvia that she might be left alone without a way to communicate.

Shaking her head furiously, Juvia swallowed the thought back down. Lucy wouldn't willingly abandon her. She was probably looking for Gray, so that Gray and Juvia could complete their happy ending and return home.

Unless Lucy had decided she would rather run off with the handsome Prince Gray…

No! Lucy was not her Love Rival. Lucy had proven on more occasions than Juvia could count that she was a friend, not an enemy. Lucy had even said that she was going to help Juvia and Gray get their Happily Ever After. There was nothing to worry about.

But Juvia couldn't just sit around and wait for her to come back, either. If she couldn't find Lucy, she at least had to find someone, so she headed up towards the cliffs that overlooked the stretch of beach.

At the top of the cliff, a small road meandered in the direction of the port town. That was as good a place to start as any, so Juvia set off towards it. Between the gentle sea breeze, the endless sky broad enough to stretch any sound into a mere background murmur, and the seagulls rolling leisurely overhead, the coastal road offered a guilty reprieve from the Alvarez War.

Only a short time ago, she had stabbed herself in the battle against Invel, embracing death so that her beloved would live. Only a short time ago, she had been heartbroken by the fact that Gray had chosen to do the same – heartbroken that she hadn't been a little bit faster, a little more sure in her conviction; heartbroken that it was his feelings for her that were going to kill him, though she'd managed to save him in the end.

Only a short time ago, yes, but a whole world away now.

A fantasy kingdom at peace, an array of far more mundane obstacles, and even her own uninjured body all testified to that. In fact, in the calmness of the day, she had to wonder if the fight against Invel had happened at all, or if the whole Alvarez War had been one big nightmare.

Or-

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Oh. Right. It was obvious, now that she thought about it.

A fairytale world that existed purely to get her and her beloved Gray together at last?

She had bled out in that battle against Invel. This was… beyond.

Admittedly, the whole Ursula thing was an odd way to start an afterlife, but as she had declared earlier, she was generally on board with what her friends deemed to be strange.

Then again, as she stepped out of the road to make way for an oncoming carriage, she could clearly read the writing on it as it approached: Asylum for Loons.

Juvia frowned. Was the afterlife making fun of her?

Not that it was the first time she'd been called a loon. She recalled inviting Gajeel over to hang out shortly after they'd both joined the guild. Thanks to the chance to prove herself that the Tower of Heaven fiasco had offered her, she'd noticed that she seemed to be settling in much better than he was, and she thought he might be more willing to open up about his experience in private. Which might have worked, had he not taken one look at her Gray-themed dorm room and told her that he would set foot inside only if she committed herself to the asylum first.

Well, he'd found his own place in the guild eventually, thanks in no small part to his unsubtle feelings for a certain Solid Script mage, just as her love for her dear Gray had given her new purpose-

"Oi! Juvia!"

Juvia blinked. That… had sounded like Gajeel.

Nonsense. She was only imagining his voice because she'd been thinking about him, that was all. There was no way he'd be-

"Stop standin' there like a lemon, and get me outta here!"

No, that was definitely Gajeel's voice, drifting out of the asylum wagon. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Bravely, she spread her arms and stepped back into the road. "Excuse me," she said – or tried to say, because despite the increasingly frantic movements of her lips, no words came out.

Heart fluttering in panic, she stared earnestly at the crooked, white-haired man bent over the horse's reins. He gestured impatiently for her to step aside. Juvia shook her head anxiously. She may not be able to speak, but surely he would understand, would stop and speak to her; no one just stepped out in front of a carriage without good reason…

It wasn't going to stop.

At the last moment, Juvia jumped aside. Through the bars on the back of the carriage, she could make out the limp, grotesque body of what was either the victim of a horrible plague, or a very motion-sick Dragon Slayer.

"Help meeee…" he croaked.

A fire lit in Juvia's eyes. She wrenched a signpost ('Seashell Palace – 1 Mile') out of the grass and lunged, thrusting it through the carriage's rear wheels. It caught with a horrid crunch. The carriage jerked and tilted; the driver shrieked and immediately compounded the problem by wrenching hard on the horse's reins.

There was a moment of pure chaos: spinning wheels, tearing tethers, splintering wood.

Then the prison wagon smashed down on its side, and the horse tore free, galloping off in the other direction. Buried under the wreckage, the driver let out a groan. Juvia felt no inclination to help him.

Rather, she circled round to the rear of the toppled wagon. The door hung at an angle, one hinge nothing more than jagged teeth of steel. With an almighty tug, Juvia pulled it open and reached inside. She grasped Gajeel's weakly waving hand and pulled the wreck of a Dragon Slayer out of the wreck of a carriage.

There he remained on hands and knees, drawing deep breaths through bared teeth.

"Not – a word – of this – to anyone, ya got that?" he gasped out.

Juvia would have giggled if she could. She'd kept the secret of his motion sickness ever since she'd accidentally found out during their Phantom Lord days. It hadn't taken long for the whole of Fairy Tail – and anyone who had watched last year's Grand Magic Games, which was basically the entire magical population of Fiore – to find out, but it was important for his pride to imagine that they might have forgotten, so she patted his shoulder supportively.

"Those bastards," he grunted. "Throwin' me into a carriage just because I punched one guy who was talkin' creepily to me… he's the one that needed to go to an asylum, rantin' about made-up kingdoms and me bein' in charge of some army, when everyone knows Mavis is callin' the shots…"

His grumbling died away as he struggled to his feet, looking a little more like himself as he adjusted to being on stationary ground once more. "You okay, Juve? Yer bein' very quiet."

I know, Juvia said, or tried to.

"…Huh?" Gajeel prodded, expecting an answer.

I can't talk, she mouthed silently.

This only earned her a frown from Gajeel, who, to her dismay, apparently had no skill in lip-reading. "I can't hear ya, Juve."

Juvia puffed out her cheeks in exasperation. At least he seemed to understand that gesture.

"What happened to yer voice?" he demanded. "Did some enemy get ya with their magic?"

Juvia shook her head. How on earth was she going to explain the whole fairytale world thing without a voice?

Inspiration struck. She seized a dagger-like shard of metal from the wreckage of the asylum wagon. Carefully, she began to scratch letters into the side of the wood until the words slowly took form: I traded my voice to a sea-witch in return for some legs.

There was a pause. Gajeel glanced between her and the words she'd written. Then, smoothly, he opened the door to the Asylum for Loons wagon and gestured for her to enter.

Juvia's fist smacked into his shoulder.

He was sniggering as he caught her wrist and lowered her arm, though it faded as he seemed to realize she wasn't joking. Eyes as red as the prized rubies of a dragon's hoard bored into hers. "You serious, Juve?"

She nodded twice, emphatically.

"Huh. Well." He might have said more, but the driver of the carriage was stirring from under the wreckage, and to make matters worse, they could see approaching traffic in the distance. "Look, I dunno what's going on here, but I might've pissed off some important military guys, and we'd best get outta here before they realize I never made it to the asylum…"

Draping his arm over Juvia's shoulders, he steered her away down the road. If the signpost had been any indication, they were now heading in the opposite direction to the Seashell Palace… and, probably, to Lucy, Gray, and her true love. But she had no chance of conveying this to a man who was clearly trying to avoid the authorities, and her hope deflated a little.

"What is this place?" he was staying. "Are we still in Fiore?"

Juvia shook her head vigorously, although this only elicited a frown from Gajeel. "Was that an 'I don't know what this place is', or a 'no, we're not in Fiore'?"

Juvia stared at him. Giving her options wasn't helpful. She needed yes or no questions, and only one at once. Gajeel was definitely not her first choice of people to be trapped with, in this newly mute (but fortunately human) body.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, finally coming to the same realization. "Right. Start again. Are we in Fiore?"

She shook her head.

"Where are we, then?"

Juvia spread her hands helplessly. The gesture was to try and indicate her inability to answer an open question, but he appeared to interpret it as her not knowing the answer, which wasn't all that far from the truth.

"So how do ya know this ain't Fiore?"

After a moment's consideration, Juvia mimed taking something from her non-existent belt and summoning a Celestial Spirit.

Gajeel's expression remained blank.

Huffing out a breath, Juvia did her best to mimic Lucy's Spirits one by one – horns for Taurus, scissors for Cancer, a bow for Sagittarius – and then drew her hair back into the side-ponytail Lucy had been wearing before the war with one hand, repeating the summoning motion with the other.

Gajeel snapped his fingers. "Ah! Bunny Girl told ya!"

Juvia rolled her eyes at the nickname he'd apparently given Lucy, but had no means of correcting him.

"Shame, though," he added. "I did a great job gettin' everyone back together after Universe One, and now they've gone and dumped us somewhere else entirely! That ain't fair." After a sulky moment, he continued, "Hey, did Bunny Girl tell ya how we get home from here?"

Juvia nodded.

"Well?" Gajeel prompted eagerly, which earnt him a frown – though he waved it away casually. "Go on, mime it. I'll guess!"

She thought for a moment, and then made a heart shape with her fingers.

"What's that? A portal? A potato? A magic gemstone? I dunno what that is, Juve."

Exhaling loudly, the best that she could do, she set the heart shape over her own biological heart.

"Oh!" Gajeel's voice took on a dramatic tone. "The true way home was inside us all along!"

Not helping. Juvia took up a ballroom dancing position, and pretended to waltz down the road with an invisible partner. What said fairytale ending more than a good old ball?

"We've gotta… dance our way back to Fiore?"

She mimed kissing her imaginary partner, while her hands mimicked fireworks going off all around them. A picture-perfect happy ending.

"Uh, you lost me."

His mind just didn't do romance, did it? In desperation, Juvia made a particularly crude gesture, and Gajeel's expression cleared at once. "Oh, I get ya. We've gotta get laid!"

Juvia facepalmed.

But when she looked up again, Gajeel was sniggering. "Yes, yes, I get it, we've gotta find True Love and get our fairytale endings."

Juvia gaped, which only caused his grin to broaden. She'd forgotten how infuriating her old teammate could be. It'd been too long since it had been just the two of them on an adventure… or perhaps not long enough.

Glaring, Juvia made a one-fingered gesture at him that needed no interpreting, and he laughed out loud. "Hey, this is fun, isn't it? Let's keep playing."

And he resumed his stroll in high spirits, a frustrated Juvia kicking up dust behind him.

A/N: Gajeel is definitely within that subset of characters who are just here to have fun in this weird world. And with that, I think we've now met all of our cast! They've not all met up with their future significant others / non-romantic teammates yet, but hey, it's a start. Did I mention that this story was going to be a long one? Well, it is. Nothing on the level of Scars, but still. ~CS