Chapter 74:

The ferry ride was quiet because Laxus, still drained from the insane amount of magical energy he'd used and hungry to the point of feeling hollow, suffered far more severely from motion sickness than he typically would. He'd taken a seat next to the window partly in the hopes that the fresh sea air would help alleviate his ailments and partly because if by chance it didn't, at least he wouldn't have to rush through groups of Rune Knights for a quick exit. Despite several cadets standing to offer their seats to him, Davian chose to lean against the railing with his back to the sea and choppy waves. He faced the sun and narrowed his eyes into the light, until they were almost closed, and then stayed unmoving for the half-hour trip.

"How'd you get to the island?" Laxus muttered through an ebb in his sickness.

"Hm?" Davian blinked at the sun, "Not sure… Certainly didn't swim."

Laxus snorted, crossing his arms even tighter as the boat rolled upwards over a swell and then rocked back down again, "Certainly," he mocked.

"Well, my clothes weren't wet, at any rate."

"You don't remember?"

"I don't remember."

"That happen a lot? Not remembering?"

His eyes flashed yellow for just a moment before he straightened his glasses. Laxus took that to be the only response he was going to get, although he had no idea what it meant.

The house Davian led the way to was in a noticeably upscale part of town. The roads were red brick and well maintained with no weeds growing in the cracks of the sidewalks and perfectly manicured lawns and hedges framing the street. Laxus raised a brow to the two and three storied houses, the long white columns, and the brilliant summer flowers that were somehow already full bloom despite it not being quite their season. He'd be blind to not realize how wealthy the people around here were, although still not holding a candle to the Heartfilias' ruined fortune. He wondered quietly what sort of jobs these people had to have, political or merchant or port-affiliated? Was this what old money meant? Because certainly all of the houses had been standing for generations. Or maybe they were so old that although their outsides spoke of great wealth, the insides were something less brilliant? And what was the point of such a large, old house if you didn't have bodies to fill it with? There weren't any children out, no people mucking about their lawns or talking amongst friends. It was a neighborhood of very large, very ornate, empty boxes.

At the end of the neighborhood, situated at the back of a long, curling drive cutting through unbroken, verdant grass, sat a white saltbox house that Laxus could immediately tell was as beautifully historic and well-maintained of as every other house in the neighborhood, although slightly more modest. There were no columns like those that adorned some of the other manors, but the door was sizable and heavy and had a long pane window of stained glass depicting Geisha yellow roses. Davian pulled from his pocket a large brass key, the kind of which Laxus didn't think people actually used anymore, to unlock the antique deadbolt and swung open the door with a hefty push that drew in the warming summer air into the shallow foyer. The peaches and yellows of the stained-glass window chased each other across the floor, dashing away warm shadows that gave way to a maroon rug and antique side tables.

Davian reached to the wall and turned a dial which set ablaze lamps lining the walls as well as a bronze chandelier. Laxus immediately stepped out of his shoes in respect and set them beside the door, although Davian blazed onward with little regard to the formality, still wearing his military-issue boots with their solid heels that clicked cruelly on the aged hardwood. Two living rooms ran the length of the house and Laxus could see the open double doors of a great room. Each room was filled with equally looking expensive, plush furniture and massive fireplaces. A winding staircase disappeared up into the eaves, covered in a deep crimson carpet and with railings covered in ornate carvings of twisting vines and what looked to be feathers.

To be honest, Laxus was somewhat astounded by it all. Davian didn't seem the type to live in such grandeur and it seemed odd that he'd have such a large place at all, given he lived completely alone… or Laxus thought he lived alone. He supposed he didn't know for certain. But everything from the velvet couches and sofas to the lavish sitting areas seemed all devoid of life and untouched. Rooms were dimly lit. There was a dining room with a large table and enough chairs for ten people, also with a low-hanging chandelier to light the room, but not a setting was placed and there was no table cloth, runner, or centerpiece. It looked like a showroom, set up as if used even though no person ever set foot in the place.

The sound of wood splintering had Laxus turning his gaze to the great room, where Davian was tearing logs in two before tossing them into the fireplace. He didn't light it, but set it up as if he would, and Laxus could see fresh ashes from where he'd used it recently, probably before he'd left town. After he seemed satisfied with his work, he crossed his arms and glanced at Laxus, his eyes shimmering and yellow in the dim light.

"I'll show you to the bedrooms, then?"

"I guess."

Laxus followed Davian up the stairs and into a slightly less lavish, but still large second story. The hallway was flanked with more of the lamps controlled by a dial and there were six doors, three on each side of the staircase. Davian guided him past an open door and Laxus glanced in to see an office, sparsely decorated and covered in paperwork. Stacks of it were on the desk, files sitting in boxes, and what looked to be different recording lacrimas were sitting in more boxes lining the wall. Laxus raised an eyebrow at the disarray it all seemed to be in. Davian, sensing Laxus wasn't following, hesitated and muttered, "I often take work home with me," before twisting the brass knob of a large, sturdy door just opposite it.

The bedroom Laxus was ushered into was very much like the rest of the house, luxuriant and unlived in. There was a four-post bed with a massive quilt full enough to caress the floors, an antique writing desk, and a couple lounge chairs in front of a massive, empty walk-in closet. The room even had its own fireplace that was devoid of any ashes, probably unused since it's last cleaning… which Laxus took the liberty of assuming was before Davian had moved in. There was a wash basin just by the door and Davian eyed it for a moment.

"I suppose I could call the gentleman who takes care of the property and make sure he accommodates you…"

"You have a servant?" Laxus blurted in disbelief and Davian looked timid.

"No, no, nothing like that… he's employed by the prison. The prison used to be privately owned and the gentleman who first founded it built this house. It's been used as the house for the prison warden and their family ever since..."

"You inheriteda servant."

"Groundskeeper," Davian hissed at him, "And I assure you he's paid very well."

"This place is massive…"

"Yes. I hate it…" Davian snuffed, glancing around him with a look of disdain.

"You hate it?"

"It reminds me of home," Davian growled before suddenly going silent, clearly uncomfortable with that he'd just said aloud, and promptly changed the subject, "….I don't assume you have much in the way of clothes to wear?"

Laxus shrugged. He'd only packed for two days. Along that same vein, he also hadn't brought much money with him because he'd assumed he wouldn't be gone from Magnolia for so long. Not to mention, he'd been so long without a mission that his savings was also critically low. This didn't particularly bother him. He didn't mind to wear the same thing over and over again. It was more annoying that he'd be washing his clothes so frequently, which would mean less time he could spend at the prison in close proximity of Gajeel.

Davian sighed, looking Laxus up and down critically, "It's a shame you're not smaller. I didn't feel like making a day of going to town."

"I'm sorry?"

"Well you do need something to wear, don't you?"

"I'm fine."

Davian made a show of rolling his eyes and walking off towards what Laxus assumed to be his room. Laxus sighed as he watched him before depositing his meager belongings onto the overly plush bed. It was only after a couple short minutes of standing rather aimlessly that he finally turned and headed down the corridor towards the only other room with a light on.

The master bedroom was… sparsely decorated. It looked and felt to be the only room not left exactly the way it had been prepared the day Davian moved in. There were no landscapes or portraits decorating the walls, no clocks or shelves or aged and ornate tapestries. There was just the intricately designed wallpaper which existed in every other room of the house, a few sconces glittering with dimmed light, and one massive, gold-framed mirror that stood alone in the corner opposite the closet. The windows were wreathed in heavy, blackout curtains of deep maroon that shuttered out the sunlight, pitching the place in a phony night.

On the desk where Laxus had expected to see paperwork or maybe a mountain of those tablets that Davian never seemed out of reach of, there was laying a large, hand-bound, leather book, aged and looking as if it could fall apart at a touch. Laxus gravitated over to it and found his eyes tracing the pattern etched into the cover What looked to be an intricate ritual circle with rings folding and crisscrossing in on itself was engraved on it in gold. It reminded Laxus of an alchemy journal or possibly even a grimoire, though Laxus hardly saw wizards with those anymore, had actually only seen a couple his entire life. A simple leather strap and gold buckle held it firmly shut, and Laxus recognized it to be real gold, not a look-alike, and it was tarnished and unpolished. He gently undid the buckle and lifted the cover, finding himself staring down into figures and words he couldn't read but, somehow, recognized. He'd seen this writing before, or something similar, hadn't he?

"If you're going to snoop, must you do it while I'm right here?" Davian's voice cut across the empty space and Laxus glanced over at him where he stood in the doorway to his closet. Naked, yellow eyes glared at him with pupils large in the faint light. Davian huffed and narrowed his eyes, giving him something just short of an untrustworthy glare, "I'm changing."

"I ain't stopping you," Laxus bit back as he let the pages slip past his fingers and the book flutter shut. A thought suddenly occurred to him at seeing Davian without a long cloak or shirt, as he turned with hunched shoulders to march back into the closet, and Laxus couldn't help but find the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. He neatly clasped the book back shut and waltzed over to cross his arms in the doorway to the closet, giving the man another analytic look-over, "So… Rut had a tail."

Davian made an effort to not show how much the comment had shocked him as he ripped a shirt off of its hanger, "Indeed."

"Kahli… he did too, didn't he?"

Davian pulled the shirt over his shoulders and the motion was robotic and jerky, as if he were paying extremely close attention to what he was doing, "Yes."

"Where's yours?"

Davian's jaw was rigid, "Mustyou stand in the doorway while I change?"

"You're deflecting," Laxus persisted, grinning.

Davian grabbed the edge of the door, nearly baring his teeth, "OrI don't appreciate being houndedby a gay man I barely know while half-naked."

"I know the difference between an asshole and a bigot. You're deflecting."

Davian clicked his teeth and slammed the door shut. Laxus rolled his eyes.

"Is it like a male pride thing?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're so offended, I thought maybe I just said your dick was small," Laxus could practically feel the angry heat from the other side of the door.

"I can assure you my confidence in that area is fine."

"Ohh…" he rolled the vowel on his tongue as if he had some sort of revelation, "So they'rethe ones compensating?"

The door flew back open and Laxus was trying not to grin smugly into flashing yellow eyes, "What lends you to believe it isn't just genetics?"

"Genetics?" Laxus played dumb, raising an eyebrow.

"I have bad genes."

"I thought you said you were confident?"

Davian blinked rapidly, the look on his face saying almost everything Laxus knew he was thinking, "I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone just for being annoying before."

"So, this is an accomplishment?" Laxus laughed as Davian pushed past him, "Don't I get ten free questions?"

"And you want to waste one of those? Asking why I don't have a tail?" his voice hitched up an octave and his tongue flashed out of his mouth, "You're being absolutely ridiculous."

"If it was a waste, you wouldn't be making such a big deal out of it."

"I'm… I'm not making a big deal," Davian hissed as he sat down heavily on his bed to pull on his socks, "You won't drop it."

"My free question. You have to answer. That was the deal," Laxus pressed, dropping his humor from before, "Or can I not trust you?"

Davian flinched and Laxus knew he had him. Despite all of his flaws, he stood by his word. After a long, steadying breath, he placed his bare feet flat on the floor and Laxus noticed he wasn't wearing any gloves. Davian rolled his eyes as if the whole thing was trivial but his features had darkened and he'd become serious, almost somber.

"Bianca also didn't have a tail and that was her problem, you know… bad genes…" he snapped and then sighed, "…It's a specific ceremony for the halfbloods."

"A ceremony?" Laxus prompted and Davian sighed again but his eyes were distant as he remembered.

"Yes, well, it was all very intense and… multi-faceted. I was young and I…" Laxus furrowed his brow and when Davian looked at him again he seemed sheepish, almost anxious. For the third time, Davian sighed, this time seeming to wrestle with his words before he spoke them, "…I swapped some of the components."

"I…" Laxus paused, trying to process what Davian had just said and find an answer, "I don't… what's the ceremony?"

Davian pursed his lips, "Well you… you pray and you… you eat. It's sort of like communion really. That's something you've heard of before? In the sense of sacrament and not, you know, communication? Breaking bread for the body and wine for blood?"

Laxus wrinkled his brow. Still not understanding.

"I didn't do it correctly, alright?" Davian hissed, "And so I'm… well, I'm handicapped. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"You're… what?" Laxus's eyes widened, "But you… I've seen you in action…"

"Ritual is easy when you know what you're doing," Davian snarled as he pulled on his boots, his tongue now flashing out between most of his words. His S's were becoming more pronounced, more sluggish, and his vowels breathy, "You say the right words, utter your prayer, give the sacrifice… it's not even my power, I'm just an avatar. The glamour, though, all lizardfolk have that ability and I can't even do that right. If it weren't for my glasses I wouldn't be able to hide my eyes at all… my form shouldn't be tied to my emotions but it is. As soon as I'm angry it all falls apart, it seems. If it weren't for my medicine I wouldn't be able to live with humans at all, I don't think…"

"Eh? What makes you think that?" Laxus pushed his hands into his pockets as he strode up next to him. Davian was holding his glasses in his hands, flipping them around and around, almost as if he were examining them. It suddenly dawned on Laxus that he was nervous.

"I hardly look human, don't I? If the eyes weren't enough…" he was glaring down at his nails which were pointed and black "I'm all sharp points, aren't I? Like a blade."

"Or, you know, an echidna," Davian snapped his eyes over to him and Laxus tried not to laugh out loud at his look of scandal and confusion, "They're like porcupines but they lay eggs."

"Yes, I know what an echidna is!"

"I'm just saying, a blade is metal. Echidna's are like a mix of mammals and reptiles, at least…"

"I'm lamenting the fact that I can't hide my true nature and you're concerned with my metaphor?"

"A lot of people, can't hide their true natures, Davian."

Davian blinked, leaning back slightly to look at him, "Excuse me?"

Laxus took in a deep breath and thought over his words before he said them, "I have a friend who's a Seith Mage. He sees souls. Everyone who sees him without his eyes covered think he's unnerving because they feel like he sees right through them… and he does. It's his nature. He sees souls."

Davian furrowed his brow at him, "I… what?"

"Dragon Slaying Magic," Laxus pressed, staring at him harshly now, "It changes us, too. Well, less with me, I guess. It's easy to see with Gajeel, though. He has sharp canines, slitted pupils, and you don't see him wearing glasses and… well I guess he did change how he talked after he moved to Fairy Tail…"

"Wait, what?" Davian leaned back even more, now looking him up and down critically.

"I'm saying magic effects humans, too. You say you have to hide but I don't think you do. There are a lot of weird things in this world, you're not –"

"No, no, no, wait. You're a Dragon Slayer?" Davian was suddenly on his feet, confusion twisting his face as again he raked his eyes up and down Laxus.

Laxus huffed, "Yes, technically… I'm second generation."

"Second generation?" Davian tilted his head to the side, "What does that mean?"

Laxus blinked a couple of times, sort of floored at the sudden change in conversation. At first, he thought Davian might be deflecting again, although Laxus had no idea why. But the look of unbridled curiosity on his face told him otherwise.

"Well… Dragon Slayers are usually taught their magic by dragons. I, obviously, wasn't raised by a dragon. Second generation Slayers are ones that learned Dragon Slaying magic because their body was infused with a lacrima," Davian's eyes widened and he immediately focused on Laxus's scar. Laxus shrugged, "That's the type of lacrima Ivan got a hold of."

"Raised by dragons? Dragons have been extinct for millennia."

Laxus shrugged again, "Gajeel, Natsu, Wendy, even the two Slayers from Sabertooth, they were all raised by dragons. They just sort of… disappeared on the same day, apparently. I don't know a hell of a lot about it, to be honest."

Davian's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something only to close it again. He seemed to be thinking deeply, "You said it… changes you? The magic?"

"A lot of magic does," Laxus growled, starting to get bored of the questions, "Even my lightning magic does that."

"Yes but… but how? You said Mr. Redfox's teeth and his eyes were changed?"

"You've seen his scales," Laxus pointed out.

"Well… well, yes, but those aren't permanent. He summons them. The physical changes to his body, though, that's…"

"Genetics?" Laxus cocked a brow at him and Davian pursed his lips.

"But you don't," Davian was looking him over again, "Why not?"

"Second generation," Laxus shrugged.

"Are there others like you? Second generation?"

"Eh… I think so? This guy in Oración Seis."

"Cobra? But he looks like a Dragon Slayer."

"Does this matter?" Laxus rolled his eyes.

"It matters!" Davian hissed and even he seemed startled by it. He finally looked away from him, preferring the ground, "It matters… Why does it matter?"

Suddenly, Davian's watch went off and they both went still. With meticulous movements, he turned it off and looked at the time, patting at his pocket absentmindedly before pausing and checking his other pockets. He looked confused again and after a couple seconds of watching him flounder Laxus finally cleared his throat.

"Lose something?"

"I… yes, I… I've misplaced my tablets…" his voice trailed off and he suddenly seemed pale.

"Maybe you left them in your other pants? In the closet?"

"I… must have," his voice sounded distant and he seemed aimless as he walked over to the closet, peering in as if he expected something to jump out at him. Laxus followed him, watching him as he rifled through a bin in the far corner and pulling out the few articles there, outturning pockets and coming up empty, "They're not here."

He stated it dryly and Laxus for a moment thought maybe he'd expected it, "Do you have more?"

"Yes… downstairs I think,"

"Right…" Laxus quirked a brow at him, "What happens if you don't take them?"

Davian made a noise in the back of his throat like a hiss, "I turn into an echidna."

"You know people keep those as pets sometimes," Laxus smirked.

"People also keep tigers. That doesn't make them any less dangerous."

"You almost sulk as much as Gajeel."

"I do not sulk."

"Lament, then,"

Davian was yelling after him as he meandered into the hallway and down the stairs. There was a noticeable temperature shift and Laxus was suddenly aware of the crackle of a fire. His steps slowed at the bottom of the stairs and he turned to gaze into the great room with its massive fireplace. He was more than a little shocked to see it lit and thriving, the grate secured in front of it with care.

"Davian?" Laxus called to the pair of footsteps making their way down, "Did you light the fire?"

"Hm? Oh, it must have been Marlin. He does that from time to time. He sort of comes and goes as he pleases,"

"Marlin?" Laxus felt rather than heard him head into the kitchen, "Is that the name of your servant?"

"Groundskeeper!"

Laxus rolled his eyes, finding Davian pulling open a cabinet in the kitchen. It was stocked to the brim with bottles of pills and not all of them seemed the same. There were the bottles Laxus was familiar with, but alongside them were smaller bottles with smaller tablets. There were bottles of clear and milky liquids, some white powders and dried leaves. Tonics, maybe? Or supplies for them? But Laxus didn't see a mortar and pestle, no hand press, no stains on the counter from making his own medicine.

"You make these?"

"Of course not. I have very little idea what I'm doing when it comes to medicine…" he paused before shrugging something off, grabbing what he was searching for, and turning around, "Shall we?"

They made their way through the neighborhoods quickly enough. Every once in a while, they'd pass someone driving a cart who'd offer them a lift but Laxus certainly didn't want to ride in anything resembling a vehicle and Davian seemed to have receded back into his reclusive shell, so by foot they went. Laxus could smell the square before they entered it. Shops and diners were bustling, the market brimming with the fresh catch just brought in. The smell of freshly broken bread had Laxus's mouth watering and he even caught Davian eyeing for just a touch too long some swordfish being butchered by a man with razor-thin scars and a graying beard. Davian ended up directing the two of them to a small restaurant at the corner of where the fresh food ended and the textiles district seemed to begin. He greeted the hostess fondly and they were ushered to a table near the back of the building and were noticeably away from other customers. Laxus didn't really care about this. In fact, he sort of appreciated the silence. Davian, too, seemed to have little intention of being social as once they were seated he opened his satchel and pulled out a couple of books and a pen. They sat in stoic silence for a while, Laxus idly listening to the swift scratching of Davian's pen against rough paper as they waited for their orders. It wasn't until their food had been received and their timid waitress had retreated back into the kitchen did Laxus finally decide he was tired of the quiet and interrupt him.

"You going to eat?" he asked, enjoying the pleasant seep of heat between his fingers as he gripped his miso. He didn't typically enjoy clams in his soup, but his stomach was too desperate to care. Davian glanced over his glasses at his meal and his lip curled up slightly, "Thought you liked sashimi."

"I do… usually," Davian blinked down at it, "It's cold."

"Well it wouldn't exactly be sashimi if they cooked it," Laxus hummed, taking a sip of his soup.

"Of course… I think I may go hunting later," Davian said it casually enough but that didn't stop Laxus's from shooting him a look, "I have acreage now and I haven't really made use of it. I know there are deer out in the woods. It would be nice to eat something that's not cold."

"You could just order something hot."

Davian glanced over at Laxus's meal and a clear look of disdain descended across his features, "Mm… I think I would enjoy that even less."

"Weren't you saying earlier you had to eat or you'd start getting dangerous?" Laxus returned his derisive stare. Davian looked startled for a moment and Laxus rolled his eyes. He pointedly pushed his chopsticks into Davian's plate and slid it across the table towards him, "Eat the fish. You can go feral in the forest later."

Davian tilted his head to the side, giving him a curious once-over before obeying quietly. Laxus drank his soup in peace now that the aggressive writing had stopped. He eyed the two books, the symbols that he knew but couldn't read, and it occurred to Laxus that it was Bianca's handwriting. His stomach knotted.

"What, uh… what is that?" Laxus nodded to the texts.

"Hm? Oh, this was tucked into one of those binders. It looks like it belonged to Ms. Ulrich. I haven't read the whole thing but there's enough evidence here that it might speed things along to have it translated," Davian picked up the corner of the pages and flipped through them carefully, "She had some interesting theories."

"More like insane."

"Well, yes, but… I guess I'm just trying to understand. There is a method to her madness. She seems to have an end goal in mind. I just don't know what it is."

"She was into selling sex slaves," Laxus growled, "What is there to get?"

Davian pursed his lips, "It's just too simple an answer."

"Too simple? How is that too simple?" Laxus was feeling nervous, his stomach twisting uncomfortably just talking about it. Even after everything, after all he'd seen, the mere mention of Bianca had his palms sweating as the mere thought of her could summon her back to life. Because she was definitely dead, and it was ridiculous that he had to remind himself of that fact any time he thought of her.

"All of this well-documented research. She was looking for something. Why do all this?" he pondered over the pages coldly, eyes lingering on a page or two before he'd move on, "All of her money and resources were funneled into this project. Why? And why Mr. Redfox?"

"Wrong place at the wrong time," Laxus was staring into his soup, trying to calm his nerves even as he remembered the things they'd found in the cave, "He was alone. No one was going to come looking for him for a while."

"Yes, but that took planning. What made him different from everyone else in the world? Why did she want him?"

Laxus stared into his miso, pushing the clams around the broth with much less interest than before, "Finishing what she started isn't reason enough? Most assholes we go up against are like that."

"Finishing what she started?" Davian narrowed his eyes at him, "What do you mean?"

"We ran into her before. You didn't know?" Laxus didn't like how intently Davian was staring at him. He decidedly didn't want to talk about this. He'd had enough the past few days already. He was tired of opening old wounds, "She tried to get me to kill Gajeel."

"I did not know that," Davian sputtered, "How did you run into her?"

"Gajeel and I took missions in the same area. We didn't know it was related at the time… hell, I didn't even know he was out there. We ended up runnin' into each other and finding her hideout."

Laxus didn't like the silence that settled over Davian that was quickly followed by pages turning. He pretended not to swallow hard around his noodles, tried to seem nonchalant in his focus on his food, but he could feelDavian putting pieces together. It didn't help that he was so precise in it, landing on a passage without even having to search for it, and then going still again. Of course, Bianca had written it down. She was so well documented, as Davian had put it. So, it shouldn't have made his stomach sink when Davian settled into an objective and political façade with hands folded in what he was sure was supposed to be a passive gesture but seemed more to Laxus like a cop pressuring a rambunctious teen to admit to a petty crime. He refused to look at him.

"Well… that changes things," the silence was palpable, "I take it you're not keen on talking about it?"

"She wrote it down, didn't she?" his voice was scathing and meant to shut down the conversation. Davian, though, was a professional.

"Well, I'm sure you can agree her account of events and the account of the victims would vary. I did read you what she and Kahli had to say about Mr. Redfox. The verbiage is quite a bit more…" he was waving his hand as if by doing so he could grab whatever word he was looking for straight from the air, "…aligned to their interests."

Laxus stabbed at his noodles, "I'm sure it covers it."

Davian sighed, "Have you given any more thought into therapy?"

"Therapy?" Laxus snapped his eyes up to him expecting to see some smug look at getting a rise but instead seeing only those shifting blue-greens that meant he was all business, "I don't need therapy!"

"Oh yes, PTSD and severe emotional trauma unchecked in a mage of your caliber certainly won't have anyconcomitant impacts on your psyche," he was being condescending, Laxus knew, but also extremely serious, "Surely your volatile temper and obsessive need to find answers has nothing to do with past events."

"I need to find answers because you wrongfully put Gajeel in jail!" Laxus snapped at him, "I don't have PTSD."

Davian leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, eyes flashing to the kitchen for just a moment before falling back to the translated pages, "Fine."

"Fine?" Laxus scowled.

"Fine," Davian shrugged dismissively, rolling a bit of fish before popping it into his mouth. Laxus watched him knowing this wasn't over but no less derailed. Davian seemed all too aware, refusing to speak further until Laxus had finally settled back into his seat. When he did finally speak, his words were clipped and cold and Laxus could feel each syllable strike him in the chest like a glacial barb, "Due to certain incompetencies, the two invading mages were able to find their way into the main holding area where subjects were prepared for transport. One mage was injured from earlier altercations. The other was in good health. Both refused generousoffers made by Ms. Ulrich and it was sought out the opportunity to utilize a flowering potion recently in development –"

"Flowering potion?" Laxus snarled and Davian's brow rose at him sharply.

"Oh, was that not right? I suppose I wouldn't exactly know. Things don't translate very well, you see. The word she used in this case means quite a few things, especially in this tense. Care to correct me?" Laxus found himself grinding his teeth. To Davian's credit, he was at least trying not to look arrogant, "No? Shall I continue? Or does this make you uncomfortable?"

Laxus growled his response and Davian tipped up his chin slightly, the mere motion enough to show Laxus he wasn't swayed in the least.

"Where was…? Oh yes. Despite attempts to keep them under surveillance, the subjects fled. They are thought to have found refuge in nearby cave systems, which evidence seems to agree with. Samples pulled from sites showed an exponential increase in levels of testosterone along with trace amounts of another chemical, though further attempts to extract this element have failed as it degrades rapidly when exposed to oxygen. No surviving samples acquired. Further testing needed to see if this avenue is viable."

"There you go. Poetry."

"Oh yes, quite the real and true telling of events. I can really get a feel for what happened. You trespassed, you fled, and she somehow got you to ingest a – what was it I wrote down? – a flowering potion."

"She threw it at me," Laxus was sure he was going to break a molar, "And you know damn wellit wasn't a fucking flowering potion. What does that even fucking mean?"

"You'd be amazed the types of potions I've run into since I've been a Rune Knight. Potions that make people literally turn into walking flowers being the least of them."

"It was… I mean…" he huffed. Why was it so hard to say out loud? He snarled again and Davian just seemed keen to wait patiently for him to speak, again folding his fingers together in that contemptuous and paternal way, "It made me go into heat."

For the millionth time that day, Davian looked him up and down, this time with more than a little incredulity in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, but, first of all, men don't have a menstrual cycle and so can't go into heat. Men go into rut. Second of all, humans… well, humans don't do either of those things."

"Yeah, right," Laxus crossed his arms, bracing himself despite already feeling as if he'd been hit by a train, "But dragons do."

Davian opened and shut his mouth, furrowed his brow, opened his mouth again, floundering for words for an obscene amount of time. If Laxus weren't already so fed up with the conversation, he might have been proud to have actually rendered the lizard-man speechless. As it was, though, Laxus just felt like sinking into the floor.

"Apologies… I just, well, the concept isn't foreign to me. I know, well, I mean, I have cousins, anyway… but I don't… you're not dragons? You're human."

"Right… but Dragon Slayers take on dragon traits. That's just one of them."

"And this happens? Seasonally?"

"Apparently."

"You say that like…"

"I'm not a real Dragon Slayer, remember?" he sounded bitter, he knew. It wasn't a sore spot, or at least, he told himself fit wasn't. He'd never had issues seeing himself as a second-generation Slayer before… not really. If Davian had anything else to say about the matter, it was quickly swallowed when the waitress reappeared asking if she could get them anything. It took him a moment to find the words to tell her no.

They paid for their bill in relative silence. Laxus would have thanked him for the food but he was more than a little agitated. They went through a few different stores, forcing themselves through awkward and rough conversation the entire time. It was a while Laxus finally found a place that was somewhat his style. He wasn't a large fan of name brands and did feel slightly obligated not to get the most expensive thing he could find even though Davian made it clear he wasn't worried about price tags. Mostly, Laxus just didn't want to feel indebted to him and was more than a little obliged to be cordial and somewhat entertaining. It was, though, when Davian followed him into a changing room that Laxus finally broke their tense talk of shirt sizes and fashion trends, dropping all pretense of friendliness in the process.

"You can't wait outside?" he muttered even though he made no move to force him out.

"Consider it revenge from when you wouldn't give me any peace this morning. Mostly, I just wanted to sit down," and he did, spreading his legs out so that only his heels touched the floor. It was a surprisingly laid-back pose for the usually straight-edged Major. He even took off his gloves.

"Now you're just being indecent."

Davian rolled his eyes.

"You know guys don't typically follow each other into changing rooms, right? The clerk probably thinks we're gay."

"She wouldn't be completely wrong, would she?" he hummed, pulling out those infernal books again and not even batting an eyelash to his comment.

"What will your cadets think?"

"Let them make conjectures about my sexuality. It's rather harmless compared to other things they could be gossiping about. I certainly wouldn't be the only Major interested in the same sex…" he paused and glanced to the side, "…I might be wrong about that."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Slowly, stiffly, Laxus began to change. The air was crackling with inflexible discontent, the room stifled and small. It made him agitated and his movements choppy. He could feel the question before it even left Davian's lips and shut his eyes when it finally hit im.

"You're still content not to tell me?"

"Yep."

"You're serious? Even when I've told you exactly what would be on official record, knowing it is glaringly full of holes?" Davian crossed his arms, glaring, "You're fine with that?"

"What does it even have to do with getting Gajeel out of jail?"

"Context, for starters. There is little part of this story that is black and white and if you're wanting to shift those grey areas more into you're favor, context is important. Not to mention, you were made to go through something as repercussion to a crime. Don't you want justice for what happened? Or closure, at the very least?"

"Closure? She's dead, Davian, what more closure do I need?" Laxus ripped off the shirt he'd tried on, tossing it into a heap on the floor.

"Just tell me what happened. If for nothing else, so things look a little better for your lover when I take your case to the Magic Council."

"You have it all there, already!" he growled.

"Why are you so insistent on silence?"

"Why do you have to know?"

"Because I have pieces, Laxus," Davian hissed, "I have pieces to a puzzle that doesn't make sense and I'm trying to fit them together. And you have a firsthand account of everything that has happened and refuse to give it to me!"

"I raped him, is that what you wanted to hear?" Laxus voice was barely a harsh whisper. Davian's eyes snapped wide and he was suddenly sitting rigid, shaken and clearly shocked. Laxus growled and kicked his heel against the ground, his shirt balled into his hand as he stood there in the changing room, somehow both chilled and unbearably hot, "Going into heat makes you territorial, I guess, I don't know. I was fucking hurt, I'd lost a lot of blood. When we'd run into her again, shit happened and I ended up reopening my wound."

Reflexively, he touched his side, feeling the scar tissue that had faded but would never really go away.

"I didn't even know what was going on. I was pissed and I kept thinking it was hisfault. He'd done something wrong. If he hadn't stopped me earlier that day I wouldn't have walked into that fucking ambush. It would have all been over already. I was mad I'd had to run. I was going to kill him…" Laxus's heart was racing. He felt heavy, like at any moment he'd sink down into the ground beneath him. He snorted and the sound was hard enough to ricochet through the suddenly claustrophobic space, "Shouldn't have felt as bad as I did, really, it wasn't the first time I'd almost killed him over something stupid. If you ask him, he'd say he just directed my attention to something else. That it was his fault. But it wasn't. Idid it, and I had no fucking idea. And then, I woke up the next morning actually thinking he was dead. And you know, in his official statement, he said the potion made me think he was an attacking mage and it was all in self-defense. And he's never admit it, but I know he refused to see a fucking doctor for his injuries. Said he was fine. Pain builds character. He'd been through worse."

Laxus spat the words like poison and realized his hands were balled into tight fists. He couldn't think straight, he was just angry and ashamed. It didn't help that Davian was sitting there as still as a toy soldier, a stoic and unfeeling expression plastered smoothly across his face.

"Well… that's… and then what?" his voice was smooth and warm and when Laxus looked at his eyes he saw only that cold impassivity. After a moment, he nudged at Laxus gently, not betraying any emotion as he did, "Your story. Please, I'm listening."

"I…" Laxus found himself backing against the wall, letting the cold of it press into his shoulder blades and shock him. He took a breath, tried to collect himself, "After that, my Dragon Instincts woke up and I had no idea how to control it." He could remember it still, the sound of the guildhall and the blaring of the lights, "I could smell and hear… It was different from before. My magic was erratic and I'd find out I was using it and have no idea. He saw me at the guild trying not to lose it. He showed me how to calm down, to see, actually see, for the first time. He re-taught me how to use my senses but… he wouldn't tell me what happened. And I tried… I tried to get him to tell me… I was cruel…"

"You didn't remember?"

Laxus shook his head dumbly in reply.

"Do you…? That is… how did you find you, then?"

"Bianca," damn him, he could barely say her name, "I think I'd decided I was going to track him down, find some way to make him tell me everything, and she was just there. She gave me a potion and told me to drink it, that I'd remember."

"You took it?"

"I was desperate!" Laxus seethed despite Davian's even tone, "I mean… he would hardly speak to me and when he did… I would… and I didn't know why… and he was scared of me for it. I was having the nightmares and didn't know if it was real or not. I wanted an easy answer and she gave it to me."

"How do you know, then, if what you saw was true? She could have fabricated something."

"It just made sense… Things he'd said, things I'd felt, my nightmares. It all added up," he slipped down to the floor and crossed his arms, taking a deep breath and feeling it all over again. He felt like a copper wire that Davian had just stripped with his claws. His voice was gruffer than he'd wanted it to be, "I couldn't live with myself after figuring it all out. I don't think I was suicidal because it didn't… because I've seen someone suicidal. Maybe I was, I don't know. Juvia ended up talking me out of it, either way,"

"Juvia… she was the mage with you at the warehouse, is that right?"

"Yeah. She's sweet. Actually, she came from Phantom with Gajeel. They've been friends for years, I guess. Used to be closer, I think, until recently."

Davian tipped his head to the side slightly, still passive, still with eyes open and body facing Laxus. Actively listening, Laxus realized, using his entire body to show he was paying attention. Mirajane had lecture him on it once, had told him he needed to be better at it. He was only ever good at being standoffish, though.

"You know, none of this should have even happened. If I'd just stayed he wouldn't have been left alone out there, where she could get to him."

"I hardly believe that's the case."

"It is, though. He left town and I was too stupid to realize why. I followed him because I was worried… or that's what I told myself. And I didn't stay. When it came down to it I ran away," he felt too warm again, and ashamed.

"You ran? From him?" confusion had snuck into his voice and he quickly schooled it. Laxus chuckled dryly.

"Partially him… mostly me," at the clear question in Davian's eyes Laxus sighed, "I can't lose control again… what if he doesn't survive it a second time? I just kept thinking I couldn't do that to him again. I couldn't wake up unsure if he was alive, not again…

"I can't lose control," he breathed the words and it was almost a prayer. He shook his head, "You know the rest after that. Gajeel never came back home. While I was sitting on my ass telling myself the reason he was missing was just because he couldn't stand to see me, he was getting tortured for his venom."

"She ruined so much for you," Davian's words were so soft and earnest, Laxus found himself completely disarmed. He looked up to find Davian watching him with gentle eyes, an inflection there that Laxus didn't quite understand, "I can't speak for dragons, but in my culture the… cycles… were never supposed to be like that. It was meant to bring you together, connect you beyond just physically. Spiritually, for you, probably Magically, as well. It's a beautiful assembly of two people… and she bastardized it."

"It was a group effort. We were different people then… angrier."

Davian shook his head and went silent, contemplative, "How did you move past it? How did all of that turn into what it is now?"

Laxus stared at Davian and was still. That was a question he'd not put a lot of thought into. Everything had been wrong, hadn't it? It had all started out wrong. It had taken a lot of work, hadn't it? A lot of patience. It had taken change.

"It was… effort. What she'd done to him…" Laxus paused, looking down at his hands, "He battled depression for months. After a really, reallybad night, I guess I decided I wanted to help him. He used to run every morning, so we started doing that. After a while, I convinced him to start going to the guild again. He'd still have nightmares, though, and I couldn't… eh… touch him… for a long time."

"Understandable, given the circumstances."

"Yeah… You know, he tricked me into going to a rave."

"Did he?"

"It was pretty wild."

"I'm not sure I should know."

"Pretty sure some girls spiked my drink."

"Oh dear. Do I need to arrest someone?"

Laxus chuckled. It was strange… he felt light, like something extremely heavy had rolled off his shoulders and for the first time he was truly able to breathe.

"I still have questions," Davian hummed.

"So, do I."

"It seems we've reached an impasse. A conference may be in order."

"Oh right. Any time you can pencil me in?" Laxus rolled his eyes.

"Tonight, I should think."

"Oh, shit, seriously?"

"Quite… I have some arrangements I'll have to make afterwards. This evening would probably be best."

"Arrangements? What the hell are you doing later?"

"Something very, very stupid. If it works out, Serrill will be healed of his heart condition, though."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Oh, I highly doubt it'll come to that," he muttered, waving his hand as he once again resumed his writing.

"Right… Course not."

Davian was slipping on his gloves and messing with the hems, rolling his wrist to get the clothe precisely where he wanted it.

"Have you thought about painting your nails?"

"What?"

"Your nails. You don't like them, right? That's why you wear gloves?"

Davian glanced at his hands. Laxus shrugged.

"Paint them. Girls do it all the time. Why don't you paint them gold?"

"Paint them gold..." Davian hummed the words as they left, eyes distant. When they finally made their purchase and began the journey back to the manor, Davian may or may not have indulged himself at the polish kiosk. He might have purchased every type of gold he could get his hands on... or he might not have. Laxus, of course, didn't pay attention. He had questions to get ready, after all.

Notes:

"Loath the way they light candles in Rome
But love the sweet air of the votives
Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone
Engage with the pain as a motive
Today of all days
See
How the most dangerous thing is to love
How you will heal and you'll rise above...
Crowned by an overture bold and beyond
Ah, it's more courageous to overcome."