Fairytale of Doom

By CrimsonStarbird

Chapter Thirty-Five – We're Talking Kings and Successions

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Every blow of Erza's sword hammered another dent into the stack of old, damaged pails in front of her. The fact that none of them had been damaged before she'd started – and that half of them had been delivered only last week – didn't even register with her. This far from the guild and its training grounds, she'd had to improvise, and the buckets she had assembled into the rough shape of an armoured human being were the best she could do.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The tottering stack provided a challenge in its own right. One solid blow would scatter her impromptu combat dummy around what had been the beer garden before she had taken it over. Each blow was perfectly placed to strike through the dummy's grounded centre. It crumpled a little more every time, but held.

It was a slow, slow death, coming from the woman who had once destroyed a mountain.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Erza wove and spun, striking with more precision in her off-hand than most warriors had at full strength. Inhale, level, exhale, strike. Usually, she found the rhythm of her drills to be calming. This time, it relaxed her about as much as it did the worried patrons peering out through the windows, fearing for the fates of the tankards they'd been forced to abandon in their haste to vacate the yard.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The military tattoo roused the unquiet thoughts in her mind, set them marching with new purpose. Out here, there was nothing to distract her. Her own sword was letting her down.

"Erza."

Only years of practice kept her expression steady and her emotions buried beneath her trusty steel plates. She lowered the blade, but she did not turn round. "What do you want, Laxus?"

She heard the creak of the wood as he leaned against the doorframe; she could sense the casual arrogance in the fold of his arms. No surprises there. Given that the last proper encounter between them before the group had reunited had been a bitter argument, what else but arrogance could have made him approach her now?

"How's your arm?" he asked.

"Fine."

"I meant your broken one."

"I know what you meant."

A long, drawn-out sigh. "How are you, then?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, you look it," he snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" An angry tremor ran through the tip of her sword.

"Perhaps we should ask your friend Mr Bucket here," he drawled. "Or perhaps we could ask anyone who was in that room when everyone broke up with everyone else. You may have kept quiet, both of you, but it didn't take a Dragon Slayer to notice that little communication between you and your handsome rogue mage. Just because everyone else stole your thunder doesn't mean you're not hurt."

Erza's patience snapped. "So, what?" she demanded, rounding on him. "You've come here to laugh at my situation?"

"No, I came to find out how you were."

"Well, now that you know I'm fine, you can leave."

Laxus didn't leave.

A prickle of irritation ran down her spine. Why couldn't it have been Natsu or Gray who came looking for her? She missed being able to scare people away when she didn't want to deal with them.

"If you're fine, then there's something I wanted to check with you," Laxus continued coolly.

"And what's that?"

"Which of us is in charge here?"

"What are you talking about?" Erza snapped. "We're a team. We're all equals."

"That's nonsense, and you know it. There are too many of us, and we're an unruly bunch at the best of times, let alone with tensions as fraught as they are right now. When things go south at the ball – when, not if – there needs to be a solitary voice of command. Otherwise there will be no chance of stopping Natsu from taking matters into his own hands and charging in, let alone the rest of them."

"I suppose you're here because you think it should be you." It was an observation, dancing like one of her blades along the edge of accusation. "Come to assert your position while I am… distracted."

He met her gaze with infuriating steadiness. "If you say you're in charge, I'll back off."

"Sounds like you don't think I should be."

"No, what I actually said was, if you decide it should be you, I'll respect that." Still he was acting like none of this mattered. Nothing had ever made her want to grind her teeth before, and yet his nonchalance was managing it. "That's why I wanted to ask you away from everyone, so that we can make sure we're on the same page now, rather than causing a scene during a crisis. So, tell me to back off, Erza. If that's what you want."

Of course it was what she wanted.

That was what she had castigated him for in the stables: for daring to suggest that she might not be up to it when he clearly thought he was.

That was what had hounded her as she had ridden away from the threat of the Huns and back into Beauty and the Beast: the arrogance that led him, the architect of the Battle of Fairy Tail, the man who believed he was entitled to own the guild because of his power and his bloodline, to think that he would do a better job of leading them than she would.

That was what had haunted her ever since Gaston's disastrous attempt at marrying her: the way Laxus had just turned up to help as though they'd never argued at all.

The fact that he hadn't been bothered by the words that left her angry even now was maddening. He insisted on turning up in scenes where he wasn't wanted. A sword couldn't make this problem go away; nor could a kind word, an expression of reassurance, or sheer rudeness. She'd tried them all.

And yet he'd given her a method, hadn't he? All she had to do was look him in the eye and tell him that she was in charge. Then he would finally drop the matter, and she could get back to burying her feelings beneath the hammer-blows of her sword.

It wasn't hard. She had been in charge by default ever since arriving in this world; someone had needed to whip that Imperial Army into shape. Officially, she had been a leader even longer than that, ever since she had been chosen by her colleagues as the Seventh Master of Fairy Tail in Makarov's absence. It was… merely stating a fact.

So why couldn't she meet that steady gaze?

"It doesn't have to be one of us two," she deflected. "Jellal is an excellent leader-"

"He's an outsider. You're the only person who would even think to suggest him, as you are the only one to whom he is not an almost total stranger, and he knows it. His awkwardness is evident just in making suggestions, let alone issuing commands."

"Natsu, then," she tried.

"Natsu is a good motivator. He's not a leader. Not yet. You know as well as I do that he doesn't have the right skills, or the right temperament."

"And you think you do?" Erza shot back. "All because you made one speech about how we needed to hurry up and get over our heartbreak, coming from someone who never had to feel it in the first place?"

She regretted the words as soon as she had spoken them. Not only because she was scorning someone who, at the time, she had known understood how they were feeling, but also because it meant admitting that anything during that disastrous confrontation had hurt her.

It wasn't as though her and Jellal had been a couple. There had always been too much between them, and there always would be. She should have realized that long before he couldn't meet her eye across the room. That tiny shake of his head had no right to bother her.

And all the work she'd put into pretending it hadn't bothered her, that nothing had happened between them in that room of chaos just as nothing had happened in the year since she'd returned from Tenrou Island to find him older and freer and living a life that would never again run parallel to hers, was lost in that hasty admission to Laxus.

As usual, Laxus didn't react. Still he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, waiting with more patience than she'd seen even from his grandfather.

He said, "You were right about me, you know."

"What?"

"You said that I'd done nothing. That I'd made no attempt to hold the guild together after Gramps disbanded it. You were right. I didn't even try. Would I have had more luck than you, than Lucy, than anyone else? I am not so sure. Our colleagues were so very willing to leave. Yet perhaps, for the few whose home had been ripped out from under them with nowhere else to go, I could have done something.

"I did consider it, you know. The guild, as an entity, could have provided shelter and employment for those who couldn't fall into a new life overnight, and eased them into that transition. Legally, with Gramps's disappearance, I may have been best placed of anyone to offer that. But you are right; I didn't. I took my team to Blue Pegasus and found another good, respectable Master to follow in Gramps's old friend, Master Bob."

Why was it so easy for him to meet her gaze? How could he confess to his failings without a shred of shame? Did his pride not matter at all?

"The truth is," he continued, his steady tone persisting, "I didn't feel like I had the right to stay. Staying meant leading, even if it was only for a small handful of colleagues who needed temporary support to find a new home. And how could I lead even a fraction of the guild after what I'd done? It was enough that they'd given me their trust again as an S-Class mage of Fairy Tail. I had no right to ask for their futures, too."

Icily, Erza agreed, "No, you didn't."

She'd hoped to strike home with that, but he just nodded slowly. "Yes. The guild has made that very clear."

"So now you're blaming us?"

"After Fantasia, I needed to be exiled. I get that. But it wasn't for my sake – I had already learnt my lesson when Natsu took me down. I was sent away because the guild needed time to work things through. On Tenrou, I hadn't intended to come back so soon, but I couldn't stay away with villains at our doors. I returned, I risked everything, I even gave my power to Natsu for the sake of the guild… and it felt like enough. My friends started to welcome me back. I felt like part of the team again.

"But it wasn't enough. Gramps didn't want to let me back in; Gildarts had to trick him into it – the man who notoriously has no idea of leadership or responsibility. The truth was, the members of our guild who hadn't been on Tenrou Island, who hadn't witnessed what I did there, still shunned me. Forgiveness wasn't my decision to make, and from their point of view, all the signs pointed to the fact that I hadn't earnt it yet. So, I stepped back. And I waited for those whose decision it was to tell me when to step forward again. I wasn't about to impose myself on the guild the way I had before. If they wanted me, they'd ask for me.

"Then the guild got back together again, a year later," he continued quietly. "Things were different. We'd all had a difficult year; we'd faced the ghosts of Tartaros alone and longed for everything the demons had taken from us: our guild, our home, our comrades-in-arms. We'd all matured apart. I thought it was finally time for me to put myself forward in Gramps's absence… only to find that you had already become Master."

He shook his head. "I thought I had been overlooked because I still wasn't ready. Then I discovered that someone even less ready than I had taken the reins."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She was tired of these thinly veiled threats. She, a strong, straightforward fighter, had no patience for dancing around the subject. "If you have something to say, then say it."

"Alright, I will." Entirely steady and calm; entirely unprovoked by her aggressive stance. "Maybe I wasn't ready to be a leader, if the guild didn't feel comfortable around me yet, but I was far more qualified than you. You had no concept of what it meant to lead a guild. The first thing you did, after being appointed Master, was drop everything to rush off on a secret mission with your team. In that uncertain time, when our friends were still trying to rebuild themselves just as they were rebuilding the guildhall, they needed a visible, understanding leader. Gramps was the only real Master most of them had known. Leaving like he did shattered their trust. They needed to be able to see that Fairy Tail was really back, and they weren't going to be abandoned again. Instead, you jumped on the first adventure that came along."

Erza's voice was chilling. "So, I should have left the Master to his fate in Alvarez, should I?"

"No, you should have left his fate to Natsu, Gray, and the rest of the team who went. You should have believed in them, while you stayed where you were needed. Being Master isn't about being able to terrify your mages into shutting up and obeying, Erza. It's about being who they need you to be."

Knuckles tightened on the hilt of her sword. "That's rich, coming from the man who literally tried to take over the guild by force."

"Yes, I did. I made mistakes. And, you know what? I damn well learned from them."

She snorted in disbelief. To think that he would try to make out that his pathetic, greedy actions were something good!

"It's true. When I tried to take over by force, and failed, I came to understand why being a proper leader took so much more than that. When Gramps was reluctant to let me back into the guild after Tenrou, despite having risked everything to save it, I was forced to appreciate how the mood and the needs of the guild always had to take priority over personal feelings. I saw what it meant to make difficult decisions day in, day out. I took a long, hard look at my own attempt to take over the guild, and at last, I could see why my success would have been a terrible thing for everyone involved, myself most of all."

"Fantastic." Her voice sliced through the courtyard like an arctic wind. "You've finally grown enough as a person to see what we were getting at all along."

"You're forgetting the most important thing of all," Laxus said quietly. "I learnt what it meant to fail – and I learnt that lesson on the most public stage of all. I saw my own imperfections reflected back at me in a thousand judgemental eyes. I lived on the other side of right and wrong, of role models and villains, and there, I came to understand how easy it is to believe you are doing the right thing when you're really destroying everything that matters. Failing… is important."

"I did not think there was anything more arrogant than claiming one has never failed," Erza scorned. "But acting as though you are the only person who has ever failed is just as bad. We've all been there – and without having to threaten our friends' lives in the process."

"All? No. You are perfect, Erza."

"Hardly," she refuted coldly. "And I have never claimed such a thing."

"Your actions speak for you. You hide your flaws behind your armour, visible only to your closest friends. You do not lose. You do not make mistakes – and when you do, they all work out nicely, without consequences, and your perfect image continues. You brought Gramps back to a guild that had miraculously not lost hope in your absence, and thought no more of it. You hold yourself to the highest standard – which is admirable, right up until you try imposing it upon others."

"How dare you? I have never tried to-!"

Until that moment, she had never noticed how similar his stare was to Master Makarov's. Though he did not share his grandfather's years, he had been through so much in his own right.

"So, if I asked your childhood friend and long-time crush why you aren't together, he wouldn't cite your inability to empathize with his journey, then?" he accused.

The words hit like a physical blow. She took a step back, into her impromptu combat dummy; the buckets scattered around the yard in a castigating chorus, and yet she couldn't tear her attention away from the one who had spoken.

"You're closer to him than anyone, and yet the slowest to forgive him. You, who would never make the mistakes that he did, could never understand what he was going through, could you? Even if he lived another hundred years and was awarded medals for his services by the King of Fiore, he would never be able to earn redemption in your eyes."

"What do you know?" Her voice shook as her sword did. "You've barely even spoken to him!"

"But I know you, Erza," came the quiet response. "And more importantly, I know how much it matters to have friends who stay by you unconditionally when you're trying to climb out of a dark place."

She was speechless. The nerve he had, spearing her with unsolicited opinions on a matter even her best friends knew better than to bring up around her. Striking when she was vulnerable. Telling her she wasn't good enough, but not in the positive way in which he wasn't good enough. When had she ever asked for relationship advice from Laxus Dreyar?

But no words came.

Because… he was right.

For a while now, she and Jellal had only been able to speak about the jobs they were on together: tracking down Avatar, fighting Neinhart during the war. She'd thought they were excuses to talk to him – the need to take down a common enemy justified being seen with a convicted criminal. But after eight years of striving for redemption, didn't he deserve better? Didn't he need someone who would choose him, fight for him, take pride in being with him?

And she couldn't be that person.

She wanted to forgive him, but she didn't know how.

She didn't know what it was like to let the people she cared about down as badly as Jellal had.

Or… maybe, after today, she did.

"You messed up, Erza," Laxus said quietly. "Learn from it. Move on."

Even after she had closed her eyes, the memories kept coming.

Ordering her heartbroken friends to ignore their crumbling relationships and move on, unable to acknowledge their pain, as that would mean having to acknowledge her own.

Running off time and time again in pursuit of a storyline she barely even understood, refusing to admit that she had broken Mulan merely by turning up in it; clinging bull-headedly to what she had decided was right rather than prioritizing her friends or listening to those around her, even when it led to the disaster at Tung Shao Pass.

Pushing herself harder and harder through her injury, unable to stomach the alternative: leaving a man who she didn't think deserved it in charge.

She'd not been able to forgive Laxus either, had she? On one end of the spectrum, there was Natsu, who had maintained all along that Laxus's threat against the civilians during Fantasia was a bluff and he'd never really been a villain – and on the other end, there was her, who had seen him almost destroy himself absorbing Magic Barrier Particles in a vain attempt to save the villagers and still could not bring herself to accept that he had changed.

He'd explained why he hadn't acted when the Master disbanded the guild. She may not have agreed with his reasoning, but that didn't mean his actions were illogical. Perhaps they were even better than hers, in accepting the title of Seventh Master without stopping to think about what it meant.

If she'd been stuck in this fairytale world with Gray or Lucy rather than Laxus, would she have been acting this way? She thought not. Over the course of their past adventures together, she'd learnt to listen to them, to ask for help; she trusted that their morality was beyond reproach. She could have let them bear the weight of her crippled arm. She… could have let them take charge.

So much for having learnt to open up. All she had really done was shown her heart to the handful of people who had gone above and beyond to earn it, never thinking that there might be others just as worthy out there, if she could only see beyond the sins that everyone else had forgiven long ago.

He had already shown that he was so much better prepared to face this than she was.

The words that slipped through her shattered defences were words she had never thought she'd say. "What do I do now?"

"What do you want to do?" Laxus passed back patiently. "What do you think is best?"

"If it comes to an attack on Cinderella's Castle, I will be in charge," Erza decided.

"Okay." If he was surprised, he gave no sign of it. Just that calm acceptance, from a man who had changed more than anyone since the Battle of Fairy Tail.

"In the meantime… I shall rest my arm. I am no expert at non-magical healing, but perhaps there will be a physician in this town whom I can consult."

Neutrally, Laxus suggested, "I believe I overheard your friend Jellal mention that he is experienced in field healing. He may be able to provide advice."

Of course he would, with his lifestyle. And Erza had no doubt he would have already done so without being asked, had he and she not been avoiding each other since their reunion in this world – and, though she had not realized it, far longer beforehand.

In hindsight, everything was so clear. Sometimes it just took someone brave enough to point it out.

"I shall do that," she conceded.

Before she could do so, however, the door to the inn opened and Levy stepped out. Though almost comically small next to Laxus, there was such a firmness to her gaze that Erza's first thought was that the letter mage had come to challenge her to a swordfight.

"Erza, I need to talk to…"

Levy tailed off. Her gaze swept from Erza to Laxus to the battered pails scattered around the courtyard, and seemed to second-guess herself. "Is this not a good time?"

"It's fine, Levy," Erza invited.

"I was just leaving," Laxus seconded. "See you."

His disappearance didn't seem to give Levy any reassurance. For the first time, Erza wondered if her own inner turmoil was outwardly visible. Laxus had certainly seemed able to sense it, and now even Levy sounded concerned. "Really, it can wait, if you're not… I don't want to…"

"There is no need to worry, Levy. I am sure it must be important for you to come out here."

"Well… alright." Levy took a deep breath, and then the fierceness was there again, ready to fight. "There's something I need to tell you. You have a right to know, and… and I need to say it." One more deep breath, her lungs wavering but her eyes steady. "I… I like Jellal."

Erza nodded once, earnestly. "Yes. He is a good friend. I am glad that him being brought here with us has allowed more people to see that."

"No, I mean… I like like him."

Oh.

Oh.

Erza's brain stuttered to a stop. She could feel her cheeks heating. Levy was a far, far braver person than her, to just be able to say it with no sense of embarrassment…

It must have been clear from her face that she had caught on, because Levy continued in a rush. "I needed to let you know. Because I know how close the two of you are, and I know that I don't really have a chance, but… but how I feel is how I feel, and I won't just give up. If he tells me he doesn't reciprocate and asks me to back off, then I will. Until then, I will fight for him. Even if it's against you."

"R-r-right," Erza stammered out.

"I love and respect you, Erza, and I don't want this to come between us. And yet I have to be honest about my feelings. You deserve that – and so does he. I like him, and I am not ashamed to admit it."

Then, unexpectedly, she clasped her hands together and bowed her head in apology. "I'm sorry for bringing this up so suddenly," she told the floor. "I know that you have so much to deal with already, like your arm, and Lucy being in that castle alone, and how we're going to get the whole team home. I didn't mean to make things worse for you, but I do think that it's important-"

Her words were cut off in an almighty thwack as Erza looped her good arm around her friend and drew her in for a tight hug. Muffled by the breastplate, Levy's yelp of pain didn't make it to her contented ears, as it never seemed to do. "I'm proud of you, Levy."

Anything Levy might have been trying to say in response was lost.

"I'm happy that after everything, you have found someone to love," Erza continued earnestly. "And I admire your courage in being able to admit it, despite the risks."

That was when Levy finally managed to escape from her grip, gasping for air. "You don't- you're not upset?"

"No, I'm not."

And she was surprised to find that it was true. It felt as though her armour suddenly only weighed half as much. She wasn't right for Jellal, but she also didn't have to be. Once again, she had put too much pressure on herself, forgetting that others would reach out when she couldn't.

Jellal had his own heart. She could have her own, too.

"Have you told him yet?" she inquired.

Levy shook her head. "I can't believe he hasn't figured it out, but… no. Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first."

"Well, now that you have, you should tell him, too," Erza encouraged her. "It is important for him to see that he is loved. He has spent enough time believing he never will be." After a split-second of doubt, she continued, "I know I am at least partly to blame for that, so if there is anything I can do to help the two of you, please tell me."

Brushing a stray strand of hair back behind her ear, Levy smiled at her. "Thank you, Erza."

"I wish you all the best. And… I wish I could be as brave with my heart as you."

"Love shouldn't have to require bravery," Levy told her. "How I feel is how I feel, whether I say it or not. What am I risking by acting on it that I wouldn't lose anyway by doing nothing?"

Then, with a bashful smile, she added, "Nevertheless, I know it isn't the same for everyone. If, for you, love is a leap of courage, then perhaps the right person for you is the one who makes you feel safe enough to take it."

"I feel safe around all my friends," Erza pointed out, puzzled.

Yet even as she said it, she had to wonder if it was true. One didn't set armour around their heart for eight years when they felt safe, and then let it down only for the select few who had fought tooth and nail to earn her confidence. Nor did one fear to fail around those they truly trusted.

From the slight, sympathetic smile on her face, it seemed that Levy – one of those who hadn't been there when the Tower of Heaven fell, and therefore had never shared in the openness Erza had come to display towards those who had – knew this too, but she didn't comment.

Instead, she offered, "Then, perhaps someone who shows you it doesn't matter if you make mistakes. Someone you feel able to take that risk for… not because they're so amazing that it's worth it, since ideal love interests don't exist in real life, but someone who won't judge you if it doesn't always go perfectly."

"Maybe," Erza prevaricated. The idea sat uncomfortably with her, but she didn't want to shoot down her friend, who had spoken to her so openly.

A shy smile glowed upon Levy's face. "Well, there's no need to overthink things. We're breaking out of this world on our own terms, remember? You'll have all the time in the world to work through your feelings once we're back in Fiore. For the time being-"

The door opened again, but this time, it wasn't Levy's cautious interruption. The door was almost blown off its hinges as Natsu burst into the courtyard, yelling at the top of his lungs: "ERZA!"

"What is it?" she asked at once, though part of her already knew. Her sword had found its way once again into her hand, sooner than she would have liked.

"Lucy's infiltration plan failed. They've been caught." Natsu slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand. "It's time for Plan A: burn this stupid fairytale to the ground!"