Fairytale of Doom

By CrimsonStarbird

Chapter Ten – There's No Man in Town Half as Manly

Natsu seized Zeref the moment he set foot outside the safety of the council chamber.

There was a solid thwack as he slammed the former emperor against the wall – one that made him appreciate the robust construction of these old-fashioned fantasy castles. That would have gone through the guildhall wall for sure.

Black eyes swam hazily, not quite focussed on his own. Snarling, Natsu pressed harder, closer, fiercer, ready to squeeze the life right out of him.

Consciousness seemed to snap back into Zeref at the threat, though his first reaction was not to fight back, but to gesture frantically for the guards closing in to stand down.

Just for that arrogance, Natsu could have killed him.

Did he honestly think that Natsu wouldn't, just because they'd had one or two civil conversations? Just because this world wouldn't let him carry on ignoring the fact that they were related? Just because Zeref claimed that he was their only chance of getting home, and had implied without any kind of proof or promise that he would reverse the spell for all of them, not just himself?

None of that, none of it, mattered as much to Natsu as keeping his friends safe.

Soldiers hovered anxiously around the pair of them, their spears still lowered in preparation to run Natsu through. The members of the privy council – identifiable by their long years and soft looks – appeared intrigued. In his peripheral vision, Natsu could see Lady Tremaine, her default disapproving expression doubled at this display of violence inside the palace, but with such a lack of shock or fear that he did not think anything about it was real.

"Really, Natsu?" Zeref managed a patronizing smile that caused Natsu's grip to tighten involuntarily around his throat. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

"I think it's better than letting you live," he growled. "All you've done is proven to me how stupid I'd have to be to trust you-"

"Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere," Zeref overrode him. His voice was raspy, short of breath, and yet it possessed an authority it didn't deserve. He let his gaze run once around the crowd of onlookers, and then looked pointedly at Natsu, as though they were co-conspirators rather than mortal enemies.

It was a cheap trick, Natsu thought. Acting like it was the two of them against the world, when Natsu knew that he only had one true enemy here.

"We- we can…" Zeref struggled to breathe, though he wasn't struggling against Natsu's hold. That annoyed Natsu too – that confidence, like Zeref just didn't think he needed to. "We can talk this through like civilized human beings. Unless being civilized is beyond you…"

Natsu gave a warning growl.

"Don't I at least get to know what brought this on?" Zeref dared.

Well, Natsu had just proven he could overcome Zeref any time he wanted. There was nothing to stop him from doing it again, without an audience this time.

"Fine," he spat, letting go. There was blood on his too-long fingernails, and it speckled across the folds of Zeref's robes. The tiny smudge of colour jarred against the swirls of black and white, too human for a man like him.

Zeref remained slumped against the wall. He looked so fragile like this. But he wasn't, was he? He had no power, no magic, and yet he'd just stopped Natsu from killing him again.

The thing Natsu hated most about this whole situation was how inexplicably difficult it was to see his own hate through.

Hitting an opponent who couldn't fight back just wasn't him.

Natsu stalked through the doors into the chamber Zeref and the others had just vacated. It was as boring as he'd expected of a hall where people sat and talked about laws all day, but most importantly, he knew that no one except a Dragon Slayer would be able to overhear them once those doors were closed.

If not for his own superior hearing, he might have struggled to notice Zeref's slightly ragged breathing as he followed him inside. "Well?" Zeref asked, so haughtily that no one would have guessed Natsu had held his life in his hands just a few moments earlier. "Care to explain what that was all about?"

"Oh, I don't know; how about that fact that you're evil and I'm not going to stand by and let you torture and murder my friends?"

Zeref gave an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly, Natsu-"

"I found Gray," he interrupted.

"…What do you mean?"

"Did you think you could keep him from me?" Natsu snarled. "That you could pretend we were allies and you were going to get us all home, while secretly capturing my real friends and laughing at me behind my back?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, Natsu."

Even the sound of his own name incensed him. So often did Zeref say it, so unnecessarily, that it sounded like gloating – a constant reminder that they were here together, and yet he, Zeref, was still alive. His voice became a roar: "You've got Gray wounded and imprisoned in your castle!"

Zeref blinked. "Have I?"

"Do you think I'm stupid? I tracked his scent up to the tower! He's unconscious, maybe even dying, while you're here acting like we're all on the same side-"

"Natsu, what makes you think I have any idea who may or may not be imprisoned in this huge castle, of which I have entered about three rooms in total in my life?"

"You're the one in charge here!"

"Barely," Zeref dismissed.

"I've heard you cosying up to the other politicians! The guards love you, everyone does what you tell them to, and even that evil lady thinks you're the only important thing around here!"

"I haven't been in this world any longer than you have, Natsu; I know no more about it than you do. I have had neither the time nor the inclination to go around kidnapping your friends and hauling them up to mysterious towers."

"Got plenty of people to do it for you, though, haven't you?"

Zeref contemplated him for an impassive moment. His eyes were voids that drew in Natsu's temper and spun it out again as silence, fragile wisps of glass that held him back more effectively than steel.

"Well," he said, at last. "I guess we'd best go get Gray out of that tower, then."

"…What?" Natsu choked.

"When are you going to get it into your head that I have no interest in being your enemy here?" Zeref folded his arms, irritated. "Why would I go after your friends?"

"They can't stop you if they're in prison, can they?" Natsu challenged, in a passible imitation of Zeref's sneer.

"This whole world is a prison, Natsu! Not to mention, you have already proven quite conclusively that you could destroy me if you wanted to, and you wouldn't need Gray's or anyone else's help to do it." Slowly, deliberately, he touched the red marks still visible at his neck. His fingertips came away smeared with blood. "I stand to gain nothing by antagonizing you and your friends here."

This provoked nothing but anger in Natsu, at least as much of it towards himself for the entirely inexplicable, undeserved guilt Zeref was managing to manipulate out of him, the bastard. "No, of course not; you only start wars you think you can win!"

Zeref did not respond to this.

He looked tired, Natsu thought suddenly. Strong and confident when his so-called advisors were around, but when it was just the two of them, he looked tired; hardly the unbeatable opponent Fairy Tail had expected. Natsu knew he should be making the most of it. He cursed the spell that had stranded them here and made it all far too complicated.

Then Zeref said, "Show me where Gray is. I still have the keyring I took from the guards to let you out of the dungeons; I am sure I will be able to free him also."

Natsu stared at Zeref.

Zeref stared evenly back.

Well, if it was a bluff, it was a stupid one. "Go on, then," Natsu dared him.

"Certainly. Lead the way."

All the way up to the deserted tower, Natsu found himself on edge. Sure, if Zeref wanted to stab him in the back he'd have plenty of other opportunities, but for all his blustering, Natsu just could not see what Zeref was gaining from helping him here, and that unnerved him. His Dragon Slayer senses were strained to the max, trying to pick up any old trace of Zeref's scent as they went, wanting evidence that he had been up here before, and finding nothing but his own doubts.

Gray was lying right where Natsu had been forced to leave him. It didn't look like he'd moved an inch. Was it Natsu's imagination, or was his breathing even fainter than before?

Natsu wasn't one for standing still at the best of times, and he drummed his feet on the floor as Zeref searched through an oversized ring of keys for one that fit the lock. At last he got it open, and Natsu barrelled past him, dropping to the ground beside Gray.

His skin was so cold. Was that normal for an ice mage in a world without magic? Surely even an affinity for ice magic couldn't explain the sluggishness of his heartbeat, or the reluctant sludge that was the blood flowing through his veins. He did not stir at Natsu's shout.

Then Zeref was kneeling down beside them, finding with excruciating slowness the key to release Gray from the web of chains. "Can you carry him?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Of course Zeref was calm about it. He didn't care, did he?

Zeref took the angry silence as an affirmative. He disappeared back through the door, leaving Natsu to rip away the chains and heave Gray into his arms. Trying to jostle him as little as possible, he followed Zeref back through the empty corridors and into the inhabited part of the castle. He found himself in a room dripping with twice as much extravagance as the room in which he had awoken, and guessed this must have been part of the king's chambers.

Natsu set Gray down on the bed and tried to make him comfortable.

In the meantime, Zeref disappeared and returned with an elderly man in tow. "Stand aside," the newcomer demanded, with a bossiness that eclipsed his frail frame. "Let me see the patient."

Reluctantly, Natsu backed away. The elderly man bent over the bed, removing a stethoscope and some less recognizable tools of his trade from a satchel and fussing over the unconscious Gray.

"Apparently, he's my personal physician," Zeref remarked, having for some incomprehensible reason decided to stand at Natsu's side and make conversation. "While I do not know the state of medical knowledge in this world, he is probably the best chance Gray has."

Natsu said nothing.

Softer, though the physician was far too engrossed in his work to overhear, Zeref continued, "I didn't know, Natsu."

"Shut up."

Zeref did not shut up. "How did you know he was there? Were you exploring the castle? What were you hoping to-?"

"I smelled him, okay?" Natsu snapped. "On that woman. Tremaine."

"I see," Zeref said, and nothing more.

Now that he'd got the silence he'd been after, Natsu found that he didn't want it. "I bet you told her to-"

"I told her to do nothing. I am far too unsure of my position here to begin issuing orders that I would struggle to justify if challenged."

"Had no problem overruling her when she didn't want me in prison, though, did you?" he spat.

Zeref made a non-committal noise.

Of course he wouldn't care; he'd not gone through the humiliation of being dragged away like a petty criminal. Lady Tremaine had been the only person who had spoken up for Natsu… though her goodwill had seemingly vanished as quickly as Zeref's had appeared in this world. When they'd met outside the meeting of the privy council, she had been dry and rude and as overtly hostile as Acnologia had been as he descended towards Tenrou Island. The only difference had been-

"She was trying to undermine you," Natsu realized. "It wasn't about me being in prison at all! It was just because she wanted to overturn your decision!"

"Oh, well done, you got there," Zeref said coolly. At Natsu's glare – yeah, sure you knew that before I told you – he just shrugged. "Why else do you think I overruled her, only to let you out again shortly after? I wanted you with me, not in prison. But nor could I be seen to capitulate to her."

Natsu struggled to think of a counterargument, failed, and instead said bluntly, "She's planning to overthrow you."

"Almost certainly."

"…This doesn't bother you?"

Zeref raised his eyebrows. "Natsu, I strongly suspect that the only person in this building who isn't planning to overthrow me is you, and only because you're more interested in killing me than seizing my power."

He couldn't argue with that; even back in the real world, being in charge of a country was the last thing he wanted. Far too much responsibility. No, Zeref could keep the whole emperor thing, and gladly.

"And you're just cool with that?" he demanded.

"I'm used to it. It's hardly an unusual situation for those in power."

Natsu snorted. "You know, in my guild, we all look up to our Master. No one would even dream about overthrowing him."

"That's because being the Master of Fairy Tail isn't a covetous position, Natsu."

"What, the leader of categorically the strongest guild in Fiore?" Natsu retorted, with a twisted laugh.

"Mm, and how much of Makarov's life is spent apologizing to the Magic Council for things you did, plotting new borderline-legal ways to save the guild from financial ruin, and tearing out what remains of his hair over your guild's utter disregard for anything, be it an authority figure or a listed building, that stands in their way? No one in their right mind would take on that job. Nor can he voluntarily quit, for no new employer would touch him with a barge pole with that blocking out most of his CV."

"Yeah, well, at least Gramps can sleep at night without having to worry about someone sticking a knife in his back. Except for you."

Zeref actually had the nerve to laugh at that. "I suppose he doesn't. Although, I have no need to fear something so crude, either. That isn't how this game is played."

"Willing to bet your life on it, are you?" Natsu pressed nastily.

"I have seen enough of my supposed privy council bickering amongst themselves to know that there would be chaos in this kingdom if I were to die," Zeref replied, so readily that it was clear he had considered the matter long before Natsu had brought it up. "You would be next in line, of course. However, in this story as in reality, you always cared little for politics. Some of them imagine you can be easily manipulated, but others acknowledge that you are something of a wildcard, as likely to send them packing as you would be to let them enter your confidence. They are unlikely to make an overt move against me until they are either comfortable that they can control you, or else have a claim to legitimacy as a ruler in the absence of both of us."

The amount of thought that Zeref had put into this in the short time they had been in this world was remarkable, Natsu had to admit. What kind of person was thrust into another man's life and immediately began weighing up all the factors in his own potential assassination?

"You don't think this Tremaine woman has a secret evil plan, then?" he wondered.

"Secret, no. I've already worked out what her game is."

"Really?"

"You recall the upcoming ball that everyone keeps talking about? The one to which all the young unmarried women in the land have been invited in the hopes of finding you a wife?"

"Yeah…?"

"Lady Tremaine has two daughters of marriageable age."

"What?" Natsu yelped. "No way in hell is that happening!"

"Not even for the sake of overthrowing me?" Zeref smirked.

"Hell no! Who would even come up with something like that? It's gross!"

"It isn't a bad idea on her part," Zeref mused. "She's already the Royal Advisor. If she were also to be the mother-in-law of the young, impetuous, and naïve heir to the throne, it would give another layer of legitimacy to her authority. She'd have by far the strongest position if I were to vanish."

"It's gross," Natsu reiterated firmly. "Why is no one making you get married, anyway?"

"Because I'm the king," Zeref told him, eyebrows raised. "I'm too important. No one would dare. You, though – a wild younger brother with no skill in politics? Being married off to produce an heir is pretty much the only thing you're good for."

Natsu spluttered something incoherent, and before he could straighten out his voice, a deep cough interrupted them. Both he and Zeref turned to see the elderly physician giving them a rather irritated look for their lack of attention.

"Your Majesty," he said, with the slightest bow Natsu had ever seen.

"Report," Zeref ordered at once, all trace of levity gone from his voice.

"It seems that the patient suffered through severe recent trauma," came the crisp response. "It is difficult to identify the cause, as it has almost certainly been exacerbated by, I would say, deliberate rough treatment since. I am treating for the symptoms I can see, and with any luck, that in combination with his natural toughness will suffice."

"But he'll be okay?" Natsu demanded.

"He will recover in time, yes," the physician answered, before swinging his attention back to Zeref. "He should be kept warm and given a chance to rest. I will also prepare a herbal remedy that will help soothe his lungs and reduce any side-effects if placed under his pillow."

"That would be most appreciated," Zeref said.

The physician took his leave with a slightly deeper bow.

Zeref turned thoughtfully to the fireplace. It was a grand thing, a perfectly sculpted maw of marble presenting a neat row of half-charred teeth, but it was unlit. To Natsu, Zeref asked, "Do you know how to start a fire without magic?"

"No."

"Nor do I," Zeref frowned. "I suppose I shall have to fetch a servant, then."

"Why?" Natsu demanded.

"To keep Gray warm, as the physician advised. You were listening, weren't you?"

"No, I mean- why are you being like this?"

"…Like what?"

After a moment of struggling to sum up how he was feeling, Natsu spat out the word, "Decent."

Truth be told, he was expecting some sort of mocking response, but Zeref merely turned away, his expression pensive. "Would that I could be a decent man all the time, Natsu," he said quietly. "If only I did not have to push away everything that matters and treat those around me as nothing but pawns just to retain my own sanity."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't be an idiot, Natsu." Not patronizing this time, not scathing; his voice was exhausted beneath the weight of too long a life which he had never truly been allowed to live. "I know Mavis has told you about my curse. But there is no magic here, and that means no curse. For the first time in as long as I can remember, my thoughts are steady. I can spend time with you without my curse seeking your death. I can help others without reason and suffer no consequence for it."

That black gaze flicked to Gray's unconscious form and back, like he was nothing more than a test, a prize. Gray was injured, weak, and potentially had been in grave danger had Natsu not happened to find him, and yet Zeref was acting like he was proud of the fact that he'd unlocked some chains and got a physician to do all the real work?

He snarled, "If you think this stupid curse justifies everything you've done-"

"I am not trying to justify anything," Zeref sighed. "But am I not allowed to wish it wasn't so?"

"Then why the hell do you want to leave this world?" Natsu burst out.

Zeref regarded him for a long, long moment. "I have told you, I cannot get what I want from here."

A bewildered laugh tore through the impromptu sickbay. "How do you expect me to feel sorry for you, when you'd pass up a chance to live without being cursed just for the sake of destroying my guild?"

"I do not expect you to feel anything for me, Natsu," Zeref said shortly, turning away in absolute finality. "Remain here with your friend. I have affairs of state to attend to."

The tankard dropped onto the table in front of Juvia with a dull thud, followed by a sloshing sound as a tidal wave of beer surged over the lip, carrying with it a crest of white foam. As Gajeel sat himself down opposite her, setting his own drink down a lot more carefully than he had hers, she reached out deftly and switched her sticky, half-spilled tankard with his.

"Oi!" he protested, but she glowered at him and clutched her prize protectively. Rolling his eyes, and hopefully making a mental note to take better care of both their drinks next time, he let it slide.

Juvia raised her tankard to her lips, and then, suspiciously, set it back down again. How had he managed to buy them drinks when neither of them had any fairytale world currency?

"Wanna swap back?" Gajeel asked cheerfully. Knowing she couldn't answer him without her voice, he continued, "Why, how kind of you-"

She batted away the hand that reached for her tankard. Then, making sure he was watching, she jabbed her finger towards it and gave him what she hoped came across as a questioning look.

"It's beer, Juve," he grinned.

Juvia scowled. That was quickly becoming her default expression, though she was trying not to do it too much, lest Gajeel become so used to it that she could no longer use it effectively to convey her annoyance.

After a moment's thought, she pulled out her own purse of Fiorean money, held up a hundred Jewel note, and then indicated the bar.

"You're gettin' the next round?" he smirked. "Great, thanks!"

And he downed his tankard in one. Which wasn't difficult, given how he'd spilled most of it over the table already, but it still earned him a huff of annoyance. She'd bet anything that he knew full well what she was trying to ask. He was just having too much fun pretending otherwise.

Resolutely ignoring the now-empty tankard he was waving at her, she shoved the Jewels right into his face and narrowed her eyes.

"I got money," Gajeel assured her.

Juvia frowned at him.

In return, he reached into his pocket and slid a wallet across the damp table towards her. It was black and chunky, and when she opened it, it was stuffed full of notes she didn't recognize – and it was definitely not Gajeel's. Not enough iron studs, and far too much wealth.

"Swiped it," he explained easily.

You can't do that! The shriek came out silently, as always, but this time, Juvia was sure he'd got the message.

Nonetheless, he shrugged off any guilt. "We're trapped in another world without any money and with nowhere to stay. What're we supposed to do? Starve?"

Maybe not, but it still didn't sit right with Juvia. Especially not when Gajeel was spending the proceeds on beer.

"Oh, come off it." The stolen wallet disappeared back into his pocket. "We've done worse."

Sure they had, but she wasn't proud of it. Those days were behind her, now. Were supposed to be behind both of them. Travelling with Gajeel again – perhaps the first time it had been just the two of them since they'd stumbled their way into Fairy Tail – was bringing back all sorts of memories, and she would prefer to keep to the pleasant ones.

Leaning back in his chair, Gajeel said, "Tell ya what – if I manage to make any money, I'll pay him back with interest."

She tried to ask him how he was planning to earn money, but that proved to be beyond her powers of mime. Giving up, she tapped her own purse, and then glanced around as if looking for someone.

This, Gajeel understood straight away. "That guy," he murmured, making the slightest jerk of his head towards a bulky man sat at the bar on his own, moodily stirring a beer with his finger. His red shirt and leather belt struggled to contain his bulging muscles. Trust Gajeel to steal from the most intimidating-looking man in the tavern… though Juvia supposed he also looked better off than most of the villagers in their shabby clothes, so perhaps it wasn't a risk he'd taken blindly.

Juvia shuffled her chair round a little so that she too could keep him in the corner of her eye. Better to be safe than sorry.

"That reminds me," Gajeel said suddenly. "I swiped somethin' for ya while I was at it."

Her automatic disapproval faded into appreciation as he pushed a pen into her hand, along with a stack of serviettes. Unnecessarily, he explained, "Figured ya could write stuff down to talk."

Thank you, she wrote, and turned the serviette so that he could read it more easily. Though, now that she could communicate, she suddenly found herself with nothing to say. She tapped the pen softly against the table.

"Another drink," Gajeel decided, and he strode back to the bar.

Juvia watched him idly. Though she couldn't hear what was going on at the bar – by unspoken assent, they had picked the table in the far corner where shadows seemed to accumulate, all the best to see without being seen – there was a definite twitchiness in the barman's actions as he filled another tankard for Gajeel. And this was despite the fact that, necessary thievery aside, he was quite clearly on his best behaviour.

The townsfolk didn't seem like the bravest bunch. Then again, maybe her time in Fairy Tail had instilled in her too high an expectation when it came to rowdy, welcoming pubs.

Night had been falling by the time she and Gajeel had stumbled upon the tavern. It was as good a place as any to seek shelter, and a better place than most for information, a tactic they'd both used many times on their past jobs. Juvia would have called it an old-fashioned establishment had they still been in Fiore, but it sat at the heart of an equally old-fashioned village, wrapped in a nest of thatched buildings and thin, entangled streets. The sight of it would have convinced her of Lucy's fairytale theory if her encounter with Ursula hadn't already sold it to her.

There was far too much wood involved in the tavern's décor, given the huge firepit blazing along one wall. Juvia wasn't sure if being damp with spilled alcohol would make the floorboards more or less susceptible to a stray spark, but nevertheless, it instilled in the building the pervasive sense of shelter that only a roaring fire could. The jolly sound of a musician playing an accordion added to the atmosphere.

Above the fireplace was displayed several sets of antlers, surrounding a portrait of a hulking figure holding a blunderbuss triumphantly. Something about the portrait caught Juvia's eye. A heartbeat later she connected the figure in it to the man sat dolefully at the bar, who was unwittingly paying for their drinks.

She wondered if he was the owner of the tavern, or just a local celebrity. Another man had come to join him: half his size and perhaps a quarter of his weight, the newcomer had a large round nose and the eyes of a puppy, though he wasn't dressed any less shabbily than anyone else in the pub.

"…cheer up, Gaston!" the short man was saying earnestly. "She's never left the village before. I'm sure she'll be back in no time!"

The hulking man turned away. "It's no use, LeFou. To think my future wife would disappear on the day I was due to propose! All my dreams are in ruins…"

"There are plenty more girls out there, Gaston!" LeFou encouraged. "Any girl would love to be with you!"

Indeed, three blonde, fluttering girls were making eyes at him from their table by the fire, but Gaston barely spared them a glance. "Except for Belle, it seems. How am I to live with this disgrace?"

Gajeel's abrupt return marked the end of Juvia's eavesdropping. "Problem with this fake money is that I have no idea if I'm bein' ripped off," he grumbled, dropping back into his seat. "Had to threaten the barkeep just to make sure."

Juvia privately thought he shouldn't be so keen to make enemies in a world where they had so few friends, but she let it slide. She could tell that, beneath the teasing, Gajeel wasn't at all comfortable with being in this world. Whether it was this place in particular, or just the distance from home in the urgency of war, she wasn't sure.

Like smouldering embers, Gajeel's crimson eyes flickered from shadow to shadow, settling on the accordion player with intense suspicion. Inspired, Juvia scrawled on her serviette, You should play. Nothing cheered Gajeel up like subjecting the rest of the room to his singing.

To her surprise, he just snorted. "You makin' fun of me?"

Juvia shook her head vehemently, tapping the words again.

"I don't play that stupid instrument," he muttered.

Rolling her eyes, she added the word, Tirlipo. It was the location of a job they'd done together several years ago for Phantom Lord. There had been kidnappings, a botched infiltration, and more than a small amount of collateral damage, but the mission was most notable for Gajeel getting plastered with the smugglers and treating their seedy bar to an impassioned solo performance of That's Amore on a stolen accordion. It had won him immediate acceptance into their crew, but Gajeel had been so mortified the following morning that he'd almost screwed up the entire job. Namely, by trying to murder everyone who had heard him so that they could never tell.

"Oh," Gajeel grunted. "Forgot you were there for that."

Juvia started writing, Do you remember when we-

But the problem with communicating via written word was that it took far too long, and Gajeel wasn't known for his attention span. "Why d'ya want me to play, anyway? People're usually trippin' over themselves to make me shut up if I ever get my hands on a guitar in the guildhall."

Juvia likes your singing! Juvia wrote, offended. He snorted, so she continued writing as fast as she could, determined. And Levy likes your singing too. She's always encouraging you.

"Shrimp's a supportive person. It's just what she's like. Doesn't mean she actually likes it. Or isn't secretly glad when I don't do it," he added mulishly.

Play now, she wrote firmly. This place needs livening up a little.

Gajeel wavered for a moment more, and then got to his feet. "Yer right," he declared. "I should sing while I've got the chance!"

Juvia gave him a little round of applause.

With renewed determination, he strode over to the accordion player. He obtained the instrument with what he probably considered to be a polite request, but which sent the accordion player scarpering out of the tavern, leaving a satisfied-looking Gajeel to replace him on his stool, the unusual instrument somehow looking so natural in his hands.

He cleared his throat. "Now, this is a little ditty I like to call-"

The accordion was yoinked out of his hands.

"W-what?" he choked.

Oblivious to Gajeel's spluttering, the doe-eyed LeFou ran up to Gaston, accordion in his hands. "Gosh, it disturbs me to see you, Gaston, looking so down in the dumps," he sang. "Every guy here'd love to be you, Gaston…"

"Hey!" Gajeel cried. "You give that back!"

But LeFou had eyes for no one except the man he was trying to cheer up. "There's no man in town as admired as you, you're everyone's favourite guy…" he wheedled.

Juvia actually thought it was quite sweet. From what she'd overheard, Gaston was depressed after missing his chance with the girl he liked, and now his loyal friend was trying to cheer him up.

Unfortunately, Gajeel wasn't much for sweet things at the best of times.

"Oi!" he demanded, barging right between LeFou and the gloomy Gaston. "This is supposed to be my turn to take the stage! Who d'ya think you are, interruptin' me just to sing some soppy ode to this buffoon?"

LeFou darted around Gajeel and resolutely continued his serenade. "Everyone's awed and inspired by you, and it's not really hard to see why…"

"That does it." Gajeel lifted LeFou into the air by the back of his collar. "Yer-"

That was as far as he got before Gaston punched him.

Magic or no magic, muscles of that size really packed a punch. Gajeel lost his hold on LeFou in surprise as he was flung backwards into a table. Beer went up, Gajeel went down, the three blonde girls who had been sat at the table went diving for cover as pieces of broken furniture fell around them.

The sight was so familiar that, for a fleeting moment, Juvia felt as though the blow had knocked her and Gajeel right back to Fairy Tail.

Gaston turned magnanimously back to LeFou. "Continue."

"R-right!" Leaping enthusiastically back to his feet, LeFou struck up his tune once more. "No one's slick as Gaston, no one's quick as Gaston, no one's neck's as incredibly thick as Gaston-"

In the corner, slowly, terrifyingly, Gajeel was getting to his feet. Juvia was peering through her fingers, unable to look away. On one hand, she really didn't want him getting into a fight… but on the other, she didn't quite dare to intervene. Not when his eyes were blazing like rubies embedded in a hateful furnace.

Except that furious glare wasn't directed towards the man that had punched him, but LeFou and his accordion.

"You call this music?" Gajeel sneered. "It's embarrassin'! And what's so good about this guy, anyway? If you're gonna put your heart into it, you need a much cooler subject!"

LeFou seemed to take this personally, singing louder and louder: "For there's no man in town half as manly; perfect, a pure paragon!"

Gajeel had had enough. He marched over and snatched the accordion out of LeFou's hands… but he didn't the decent thing for all involved, and throw it out of a window. No, he started to play it himself. "No one's strong as Gajeel, fights as long as Gajeel, can suddenly burst into song like Gajeel!"

Juvia facepalmed.

"For there's no mage in town half as fearsome; oh the awe and the terror you'll feel!"

"How dare you?" Gaston exploded.

But it was LeFou who acted first. A swift kick to Gajeel's shins made him lose his footing, and the short yet surprisingly feisty man snatched the instrument from his slackened grip. "No one fights like Gaston, douses lights like Gaston; in a wrestling match nobody bites like Gaston-!"

Raising his voice, Gajeel sang over him: "No one's tough like Gajeel, fit and buff like Gajeel; no one slaps criminals in handcuffs like Gajeel! For there's no one so terribly handsome; for wit and looks, he's the real deal!"

"But there's no one as burly or brawny!" LeFou was practically shrieking.

"As you see, I've got biceps to spare!" Gaston joined in too, his deep voice ringing authoritatively through the tavern.

Gajeel slammed his forehead against Gaston's. "I stand up for the weak and the scrawny!" he belted out. "And for men who are full of themselves, I don't care!"

Scowling, Gaston kneed Gajeel in the stomach. "When I was a lad I ate four dozen eggs every morning to help me get large!"

Gajeel snatched the accordion again and brought it crashing down on Gaston's head in a musical cataclysm. "And now that I'm grown, I eat iron and chains, and could munch my way right through a barge!"

As the crowd broke into a chorus, it degenerated into an all-out scrap between the two men, throwing a flurry of punches and boasts at the other. LeFou was jabbing the accordion enthusiastically into the pile and generally making things worse.

Juvia rested her head on the table. The thing was, it was far from the first time that karaoke night with Gajeel had ended as an all-out brawl. No wonder Levy wasn't a huge fan of his singing. It invited destruction in oh so many ways.

But they weren't in the Fairy Tail guildhall any more. She had to get Gajeel out of here before his brawl demolished the tavern, and their new life in this fantasy world began saddled with debt.

She opened her mouth to shout to him, but of course, no words came out. Instead, she snatched up a spoon from a nearby table and flung it like a dart into the melee. It struck Gajeel on the shoulder, and he reared up in rage, thinking a new enemy had joined the fray.

Juvia jabbed her hand towards the door in a gesture not even he could misinterpret.

Gajeel's scowl became petulant. "But this guy thinks spittin' matches are somethin' to be proud of!"

Juvia repeated the gesture.

"But…"

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that Gaston lunged for his opponent. Gajeel twisted aside on instinct, and Gaston caught nothing but the pocket of his coat.

Which ripped, dropping the stolen wallet onto the floorboards.

Everyone froze. Gaston slowly removed one hand from Gajeel's throat to pat his own, empty pocket. You idiot, Gajeel, Juvia would have lamented, if she could.

"I was gonna pay you back with the money I earnt from buskin'!" Gajeel defended, as lava seemed to rise up through Gaston's neck, reddening his skin and sending smoke fleeing from his ears. "If you hadn't interrupted me, we'd both be rich!"

Before the nuclear reactor that was Gaston could reach critical mass, Juvia stamped her foot hard enough to break the floorboards, and when Gajeel glanced at her in alarm, she pointed at the door one final time.

At last, he seemed to realize the merit in getting the hell out of here. With one swift elbow jab, Gajeel snatched up the fallen wallet, disentangled himself from the brawl, and hurried over. She pulled him onwards, kicking tables out of their path, until they reached the door and freedom.

In an unexpected comeback victory for common sense, the two of them fled into the dark of another world's night, leaving an incandescent Gaston and his disastrous karaoke evening behind them.

A/N: Dear lord, Gajeel has worked out he's in a musical. We're doomed. ~CS