Chapter 101:

Laxus laid awake staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. The vague images of being propped up and dragged to his resting place on the couch flickered in and out of the reach of his mind like a candle trapped behind the soot-stained glass of an old gas lamp. Terse, hushed tones, a cord tied around the wrist, and Laxus had dropped heavily into a fitful, dreamless sleep. The ghosts of black shades whispered vaguely in the farthest corners of his empty house long after Davian had cleaned the mess they'd made while he'd been left to rest and his body fight fever. In waking the misery snuck back up through his ribcage, cold and viscous as tar where there had once been veins of resonant heat and a voice speaking through the aether to tell him the words that had echoed through his mind all night, pulling him to and from sleep, and mixing themselves into his waking thoughts, iterated and reiterated, over and over and over again...

A life is required; a life has been promised.

This life as you know it cannot be saved.

Gajeel Redfox will die.

His mind just couldn't get past those words. The impenetrable wall of them held fast even when he tried to push back against them; crowded closer together, sinking like smooth stones into pond water down and around him, anchoring him to the couch, holding him fast and drowned. He stared unblinkingly like they'd plastered themselves to the ceiling. Felt them swirl, dither, and hang in the atmosphere like Gramp's smoke rings on an uncomfortably hot night after receiving bad news.

What now?

He thought the words first to break through his spiraling misery, and when that didn't seem to work, he said them out loud:

"What now?"

A life is required; a life has been promised.

He let out a sigh and rubbed his thumb down the line of his scar as he thought, agitated at how doing so centered him.

The idea of trading another life for Gajeel's was one he didn't want to think about. He didn't have it in him to trick someone into taking Gajeel's place, or to ask it of a stranger, or to sacrifice someone else he knew. Even if he did, Gajeel would never forgive him. His own he would give in a heartbeat, in a second, a millisecond, he could. He'd lay down his life if it meant saving anyone he cared for. But to leave Gajeel with that guilt, on top of what he already carried so heavily on his shoulders... Laxus knew that would be a worse sentence than death. It was probably grandiose to even think of such a self-sacrifice, arrogant even, and stupid. If Gajeel tried a stunt so idiotic, he knew he'd be beyond angry and hurt. So he knew he couldn't do that to Gajeel, not if there were any other option.

So, what did that leave? What options did he have?

"What now?"

A life is required; a life has been promised.

Why was a life required? Why was Gajeel's life promised? Who promised it? How? Was it a curse? Some list of criteria that somehow Gajeel met? Could it be something so simple as removing a component? But the voice had said covenanted. That held weight to it; it was binding. A covenant wasn't just a promise, but spoke of a contract. A solemn vow. A pact. Something that was not easily broken. Without knowing more about the nature of if, he probably couldn't find a way to break it.

He tilted his head to the side and gazed into the kitchen where there sat the leather-bound tome that was both ancient and alien. He was a little surprised to see the grimoire still on the counter. He'd half expected Davian to have just taken it with him. Maybe that meant Davian actually believed him when he said he'd return it, or maybe he had just forgotten it. No doubt he'd had a hell of a night after their ritual-introduction mishap. But any hope of trying to study the grimoire himself was abysmal at best. The writing was foreign and even the pictures were difficult to piece together when he had no context. He rejected the idea of just waiting around until Davian could talk him through the thing page by page but unless he could get a translator, he didn't have a choice. If Levy wasn't stilly busy with the Bloodgood Athenaeum, he might have been able to ask her. And Freed... well, he didn't really want to talk to Freed about all of this.

He turned his eyes to the ceiling and rubbed his scar again.

There was one other place he could look for answers. The voice. Whatever it was, whoever it was, it was knowledgeable. Actually, it seemed even more so than Davian. Could he... could he summon it again? It couldn't be so hard, could it? If he'd done it once, he could do it again. He'd have his thoughts together this time, wouldn't be so caught off guard. He could ask how Gajeel's life had been covenanted, promised, whatever. If he could find out how it happened, he could figure out a way to undo it. And if he couldn't... If he couldn't undo it...

Well, he'd... he'd stop the ritual.

That was what the voice had said, hadn't it? A life was required, a life had been promised? The ritual must be completed? If he stopped the ritual, a life couldn't be required. If no life was required, no life could be promised. It was as simple as that, really. If he couldn't undo the promise, he'd stop the damn thing altogether.

But first, he needed to summon that voice.

With no shortage of trepidation, Laxus pushed himself up and waited for the vertigo and white spots to flood his vision. Neither happened which was... a little strange. He swung his legs over the edge of the couch expecting a rush of pins and needles, but this too was absent. He wasn't upset by this, of course, but after the night he'd had, his body should be having a difficult time... much more difficult than this. He stood and felt something like a rush of adrenaline when again there was no dizziness. He didn't sway on his feet. No migraine assaulted him at rising. Laxus felt… better? Not great, not back to his former strength, but still better. He didn't feel quite so weak, so haggard. He didn't feel like he'd really gotten a good night's rest but, well, he hadn't had any nightmares.

He took a step forward, a part of him thinking surely this would start it. He'd feel shaky, his nose would start bleeding and then it would all assault him at once, something, but nothing ever came. Something like elation had his heart beating faster. When was the last time he didn't feel a miserable haze clinging to him and he was forced to pull himself together? He felt invigorated, light, and he wanted to test out his strength but would be lying if the thought didn't make him nervous. He pushed the hesitance out of his mind, though, determined to make the most of this.

In a way that was sort of comical in its exaggeration, Laxus stretched. All the way from the bottoms of his calves, up his legs, his spine, and across his shoulders, he felt the weight of himself as he stood on his own two feet unencumbered. The cool morning raised gooseflesh along his arms, and as he raised them above his head it was then that he felt something warm and heavy brush the skin of his wrist. He started, eyes widening as he dropped his hand so see dark cord wrapped around his pale skin, and attached to it was a green pendant, small enough to fit comfortably in his palm, that Laxus didn't remember ever seeing before. The stone was smooth almost to the point of silkiness, circular in shape with a hole in its very center. He raised an eyebrow at it, because although he didn't own such a thing, he knew what it was.

It was a hag stone, the likes of which Laxus hadn't seen since he was a kid. Now, this wasn't some child's keepsake plucked from a stream somewhere. It was made from jade, and the color was so smokey that Laxus took pause as he held it in his hand and turned it over. Jade was usually brilliantly turquois, even when recycled from old jewelry. Faintly, he did remember Davian over him at some point while he was between feverish delusion and the edge of sleep. The words "keep it with you" was mixed in between expletives and that miserable, haunted expression that seemed to show up the more Laxus was around him. With a clipped sigh, he pocketed the trinket. What harm could it do? He was already committed to superstition, at this point. Although, what a jade hag stone could be good for other than trying to see invisible fairies was beyond him.

He decided that at the moment he didn't really care. He had his mind set on summoning that voice again and he had the energy with which to do so. He made his way into the kitchen and snagged the grimoire, the saucer – cleaned and sitting still in the sink – a candle, and a match, and went about making a space for himself by the coffee table. Did it matter if everything wasn't on the ground? Because he decided to set everything up on the table. He placed his candle, his saucer, and was just about to strike his match when he stopped short, staring. He needed a sacrifice. Prayers and will wasn't just enough, was it? He had to have something to exchange. What was it Davian had said he could use? Butterflies? Paper? Something personal? Or, if it's serious...

"Blood..." Laxus grimaced.

He looked around rather dumbly before getting back up and going to the kitchen, his steps much less sure now than they previously had been. He stared at the knife block on the counter. Slowly, one by one, he pulled each one out just a hair to examine them before sheathing them back again. A kitchen knife was a little... unsanitary. They use those to cook with. He couldn't cut himself – Laxus winced – with a kitchen knife. He gritted his teeth a little and looked towards the stairs. He could use a razorblade? But it wasn't like they just kept razorblades around. Aside from Lily being cautious about Gajeel's history with self-harm, the only time he or Gajeel used a razor was to shave. It would look a little suspicious if someone just found the parts to a shaving razor but no razor, wouldn't it? Lily would probably go after Gajeel over it and then Laxus would have to explain, no, Gajeel's not cutting again, he just decided to try his hand at summoning an unknown spirit into the house. Yeah, no. That wasn't a good idea.

He remembered what Davian had said about Gajeel keeping knives. Was that true, or had he just made a guess? Laxus hadn't seen any about, but he also hadn't exactly been looking.

He took the stairs up to Gajeel's room, mostly bare since they tended to spend their nights together in Laxus's bed. Actually, he rarely went in here at all aside from the occasion he'd catch Gajeel mid outfit change. It wasn't like Gajeel had ever said he couldn't be in his room when he was out... but standing here now, it felt a little like he was snooping.

Laxus stood a little awkwardly in the doorway, just glancing around, eyeing the dresser and bedside table, the closet door that was ever-so-slightly ajar. He cautiously took a step inside, like maybe he thought an alarm would go off if he moved too quickly. The electric guitar Laxus had given him so long ago was laying in its open case on the bed. Had he meant to take it with him? Or had he been unpacking? Now that he thought, Laxus still had that guitar he'd gotten the same day stashed in his own closet. He'd meant to give it to him as a holiday present, but Gajeel had been in Ember Island and...

He huffed. Focus.

He tip-toed over to Gajeel's side table. It only had one drawer, in which Laxus noticed a small black book. A journal, maybe? He didn't touch it, of course, he already felt like this was a massive invasion of privacy looking for a goddamn knife, so he hurriedly shut the drawer again. Next, he went through the dresser. Underwear, socks, pants, and then the bottom drawer which held some interesting odds and ends, none of which were knives... unless you counted the vintage razor that Laxus was sure Lily didn't know about but seemed to have a signature etched into it and so probably had never been used and was simply missing its collectable box.

At last, he turned his eyes to the closet, and that was when his stomach turned a bit. That was where Juvia had found the lacrima with all of Bianca's surveillance. In an unassuming box that somehow Juvia recognized right away, it had been sitting amongst some other things that had merited the comment Gajeel needs to let go of his past from the stormy bluenette. He tried to ignore his trepidation as he pulled the door the rest of the way open and looked up to the top shelf. There were boxes pulled and centered to the front, heaping with old shirts and gloves and whatever else Gajeel was holding onto but didn't actually wear. He was fairly certain these weren't what he was looking for, but rather it was the sinisterly plain, wooden box just behind them. The plain wooden box displayed a singular, brass latch that had been left unlocked. It felt heavy and shifted with every gentle move Laxus made as he brought it down. He could feel something roll, a few things actually, and heard the muffled knock of them against the lined insides.

With an uneasy breath and a feeling like he was betraying Gajeel in the highest way, he held the thing in his hands and considered that maybe a kitchen knife wasn't such a bad idea after all. But he'd already come this far, and so he took his time to sit on the edge of the bed and flip open the latch. He didn't find a knife. He found several, each in its own, respective sheath, and scattered among old recording lacrimas, more little black and leather-bound books, a long metal cord, and a mix of other things Laxus didn't want to think too extensively on. A few of the knives' handles were worn, the leather straps snapped and re-tied. Laxus reached down and wrapped his hand around the heft of one that seemed median in length to the rest and marveled at the smoothness in the palm of his hand... and the weight. Timidly, he unsnapped the button that held the leather sheath tight to the handle and slid it off, noticing immediately the edge and its imperfections. The blade was nicked and marred from strenuous use, and it made his heart beat harder to stare at it.

Gajeel... was a killer.

The thought snuck up on him as he held the blade still in his hand, a death grip around the hilt as if it could suddenly turn as a viper and lash out. It looked sharp and wicked, the dark metal gleaming up at him like a sneer before the strike. Had this been used to take a life? It wasn't like knives only had a single utility, and rationally Laxus knew this, but the thought just rang louder and louder in his head. The object in his hands felt fatal, it felt well used. He didn't like it. He didn't like any of the knives in the box, but that wasn't what this was about. This was about drawing blood and, well, this was an experienced blade...

Despite the ridiculousness of the thought, it cemented to Laxus that yes, this was the thing to use, and so he tromped back down the stairs with shaky determination and a feeling like a dozen nervous moths were trying to find a way out of his stomach. He stood before the saucer and took the blade in hand, holding it gently aloft and just staring at its proximity to his skin. A small cut. That was all he needed. But to pick a place made him feel sour. He opted to just mimic Davian and rested the edge against the center of his hand. The knife tip was sharp, alarmingly so. He gritted his teeth and tried to convince himself to make the first cut.

Just... just do it.

He didn't move. He thought it more harshly, pictured pressing in the blade and slicing through skin. It wouldn't take much, just the right amount of pressure and the knife would do the rest, but it was like there was a disconnection between the command of his mind and the movement of his hands. He just couldn't. Holding the knife felt wrong, feeling the sharpened metal against his skin felt wrong. Everything in him was against the idea of cutting himself even as he wrested himself still and told himself it was necessary, and it would be quick.

It wasn't like he couldn't handle pain. He could take a hit with magic or with fists without a flinch. Was it the stakes? It wasn't like the stakes for this weren't high. Gajeel's life depended on getting answers and he'd do anything to save him, even consider taking his place, so making a single, small cut should be a sinch! Just do it. Get it over with. Quick. Easy. Relatively painless. He could do this. No problem whatsoever.

He pushed the knife into his skin, felt the pinprick of pain as every ounce of his resolve screamed against the gut reaction to stop. Into his palm, he pressed harder, watched the skin give beneath the blade, the impression against the pale white of him growing longer, deeper. The dark, grinning knife mocked him when he found himself relenting and pulling it away.

An exasperated hiss slipped from his mouth at the absence of a cut or even a single pearl of red. He slammed the blade against the table in his anger and it clattered off onto the floor to continue sneering up at him. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the grimoire.

Why was this so hard? How did Davian make it look so easy to cut himself? He just did it without a hint of pain on his face or the slightest hesitation, as if he were doing nothing more than running the smooth against his palm and it just happened to spring blood. But for Laxus, this was nearly impossible. Who just cuts themselves? He didn't like sharp pains on a good day, knives even less, how in the hell could he just... just...?

The knife mocked him from the ground, simpering like the broken glass in Bianca's lair after a painful flashback. He could feel the panic there at the edge of his mind, the learned fear that made his shoulder ache with the memory of a serrated edge that twisted and tore through skin, tissue, muscle. He was starting to feel very much like a coward.

For lack of anything better to do, he ran his thumb down the leather spine of the grimoire before gently lifting the cover. He thumbed at the edge of the pages, quickly flipped through them, studying the pictures and symbols like he had any goddamn idea what they meant. He was stalling and he knew it.

"Don't be such a fucking kid," he snarled, letting the pages fall down to a random place. He picked up the knife and held it aloft in his hands, staring it down as he turned it over, trying to convince himself that this was merely a tool. His hand around the grip fit smoothly, menacingly. He clenched and unclenched his left hand before splaying it wide, his skin taut. Again, he laid the edge against his skin. Again, he fed it pressure until his nerves began to signal danger. His heart started to hammer. He could feel the tightness of his jaw as he held firm. All he needed to do was flick his wrist forward and the skin would split open like softened butter. The pain would flair for an instant before the component he needed welled and slid free. It would be over in a second and he could put this damned knife away and not look at its grinning metal.

He took a slow, steadying breath.

All he needed to do... was...

A knock sounded at the door. Laxus wrenched the knife away and in his haste to spring to his feet he stumbled and bashed his shin into the coffee table, nearly knocking the entire thing over. He cursed loudly as everything clattered and rolled and he was left scrambling to grab the knife and candle just as another knock sounded.

"Laxus? Everything alright?"

It was Mirajane, sounding more amused than concerned at the moment, as she probably suspected she caught him doing something scandalous.

"Fine!" He barked back, "Just a minute!"

He could hear her keen, musical laugh through the door, "Take your time."

He tried not to be so breathless when he opened the door and ignored the way she ran her eyes up him like she expected to see something particular on him out of place, "Enjoying your time alone?"

Laxus felt warmth crawl up the back of his neck despite knowing he was absolutely not doing whatever she could be thinking of right now, "Did you need something in particular?"

"I was in the area and wanted to see if you'd come to the guild with me. It's been a while since you've been around, hasn't it?" she smiled innocently enough, though he could see she was giving him a hard once over. No doubt she could tell he looked rather pale, a bit not himself, but it wasn't enough to merit her comment on it. He was sure Gramps had told her he hadn't been well recently. Maybe she was just relieved it wasn't as severe as she'd heard.

"It has been a while..." he assented.

Aside from attempting the ritual, he really didn't have a reason to give her not to go.

"Almost everyone is out on a mission," she said slowly, "There shouldn't be too many people there."

"You're lonely?" he realized, and the only affirmation she graced him with was to subtly tuck a long white strand of hair behind her ear and glance away from him, "Alright, yeah... just let me..."

He glanced back for a split second, only to see that knife wickedly waiting for him and decided he didn't really need to put anything away. Lily wouldn't be back for another day, and Gajeel wouldn't be coming home for a while either. Mirajane gave him a quizzical look when he abruptly decided just to leave but didn't say anything about it. Instead, and much in her typical fashion, she jumped into the latest gossip as soon as he began escorting her down the street.

Natsu and Gray followed Erza on a mission and botched it and she was furious about it. Lucy got roped into going on another mission to help them get in her good graces and now she has no idea if she'll be making rent this month. It was a good thing her landlady liked her so much or who knows where she'd be. The ex-heiress might be comfortable with her humble living conditions but could you imagine her moving into that tree with Natsu?

Romeo and Wendy have been acting a little flirty lately. Of course, Mirajane thinks its adorable. Weren't she and Laxus around their age when they started getting interested in each other? Of course, she thought Wendy should date around outside the guild first. Guild pairs tend to stick together and what's wrong with having a little fun before getting serious?

"Fucks sakes, Mira, isn't she like twelve?" he muttered.

"Sex isn't the only way for kids to have fun, you know," she replied rather provocatively, "You and I both know you weren't completely innocent at sixteen."

"And whose fault was that?" at the accusatory look he shot her, she grinned.

It wasn't until after they'd finally made it to the guild and she was making herself comfortable behind the bar that she steered the conversation to Freed and Bickslow, who seemed to be bickering a lot lately, especially since Evergreen seemed quite occupied in other places closer to the demoness's home. Mira had looked at him rather pointedly as she mentioned it, clearly thinking he must know something about it, but of course, he didn't, and said so with a shrug.

"I've sort of been avoiding Freed..." he confessed, much to her surprise.

"Really?" she said, eyes rounder now that she thought she'd get something interesting out of him, "Is that why you've been away?"

"No, no, that's..." he huffed, "It's just he'd been acting strange. Ever since Gajeel and I came out at the homecoming party he's been hard to talk to."

"Oh," she said, glancing down to the mug she was washing, "Poor Freed. It's probably hard on him, you know. He really did have feelings for you."

Laxus was sort of at a loss to respond, mumbling the word "yeah" as she poured him a beer.

"Don't think it's your fault, Laxus, that's not what I'm saying," she said sternly, "If he wants to stay by your side, he's going to have to work through it. I just think that when you told the guild it became real for him, you know?"

"I guess."

"Giving him space is probably a good idea," she smiled at him, "He'll come around soon enough... especially with Bix's help."

Laxus just sort of shrugged as he took a drink and pointedly ignored the mischievous gleam in her eye as she leaned forward onto the counter and threaded her slender fingers together. She rested her chin there, looking up at him through her pale lashes and waited for him to stop avoiding her gaze. And then, impatient as she was, she decided not to wait for him after all.

"How have you and Gajeel been?" she asked silkily, "It's been ages since I've gotten any updates."

"What is there to update?" he replied with a sigh, "We're together. Isn't that all you care about?"

She lifted a brow as if to say who do you take me for? And his initial reply would have been a shameless gossip if she'd actually asked. It wasn't really worth putting up a fight over. He knew she'd weasel something out of him one way or another. She was very good at it. The only thing he really could do was control the information she got. He decided very quickly he wanted to keep her away from the topic of Davian and strange voices and rituals. He knew if he asked her to keep things to herself, she would. But if she felt that this was something that Gramps should know, she would undoubtedly tell him. Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing, but it was something he wasn't too keen on dealing with right now.

"We're planning a date for when he gets back in town," he began and immediately had her full attention.

"Oh?" she smiled up at him excitedly.

"Yeah..." Laxus gave her a pointedly annoyed look which she ignored entirely. He took another sip, "We decided to split the night."

"Split the night?" she asked, and he immediately realized he'd made a mistake.

"Uh... yeah..."

"What does that mean?" she pried.

"He's planning the evening and I'm... planning the night?"

"Planning the night?" her eyes filled with excitement.

"It's none of your business, Mirajane." he snapped.

"Oh, come now, Laxus, you can't say something like that and not tell me what you're planning!" she said, completely exasperated.

"Mira-"

"Is it weird?" she asked, narrowing her eyes and looking him up and down.

"No, it's not-!" he huffed, and sent her a glare before relenting, "I'm just... it's just going to be romantic? Making love, or whatever."

Her face softened for a moment, like he might have just endeared her, before it turned a little contemplative, "Oh no..."

"Oh no?"

"Well, it's just... that's not something you're really good at, is it?"

He blinked at her a couple of times before realizing she had just taken a jab at his ego, "I don't remember you ever complaining about it."

"I didn't want to hurt your pride." she laughed lightly, like she didn't just tear apart over a handful of specific nights they'd shared once-upon-a-time ago. She must have noticed his confusion and the way he was obviously running through something in his head, because she was waving at him dismissively, "Well, you've matured a lot so I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Uh... huh..." he muttered into his drink.

Mirajane, as she was wont to do when she wanted someone to stew in what she'd just said, took that time to not restart the conversation onto a new topic and instead spent her time blissfully wiping down the counter, waving happily at anyone who happened to meander into the guild. Laxus chewed agitatedly on the inside of his cheek, thinking to himself that he was fine. It wasn't exactly hard to plan a romantic night. He'd sort of planned on buying some candles, maybe playing some music. There wasn't much more to it, really...

"What the fuck was wrong with it?" he finally asked, not hiding any of the bite to his tone. Mira glanced up at him, blinking at him like she hadn't the slightest idea what he was talking about.

"Hm?"

He nearly rolled his eyes, "What did I do so wrong that it would hurt my pride for you to tell me?"

She thought it over for a moment before she shrugged, "You just don't really get the point, I guess."

"The point?" Laxus pressed, leaning onto his arms, "What point? It's... There's not a hell of a lot to it, Mira."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, looking all too smug, "And that's probably why you're no good at it."

"Laxus? Not good at something? Don't tell Freed!"

Laxus groaned internally as Cana hopped onto the bar and crossed her legs, dodging a disapproving look from Mirajane as she popped open a bottle.

"Must you sit on the bar, Cana?"

"There's hardly anyone here," she replied smoothly, "So, what's Laxus bad at?"

Laxus shot Mirajane a glare which she ignored easily, "Laxus is planning a date with Gajeel."

"Fucks sakes..." he muttered.

"Eh? And what do two guys like you do for a romantic evening?" she slurred, hiccupping at whatever image had just popped into her head, "Don't seem the type to picnic under the sakura trees."

"I swear to Mavis, Mirajane..."

"Now that's an idea," Mira said slyly, the demon in her showing through the grin that crept across her features while Cana wasn't looking, "a change in venue could make things so much more memorable."

If looks could kill, he would have already struck the ivory-haired woman dead. As it was, she was clasping her fingers together and was making a show of swooning into them, flipping her hair to one side and gazing up at Cana through her long eyelashes.

"Wouldn't that be so romantic, Cana? Making love under the sakura trees in full bloom?"

"Making love? Are you kidding me?" Cana said, glancing over her bottle at Laxus for a moment to confirm. She wrinkled her nose and gave him a look of borderline contempt, "Ugh... that's so boring. You've got to do something more fun than that."

"Now, Cana, what would you know about doing anything fun?" Mira asked with the sort of sweetness in her voice that could hide poison.

She grinned cheekily, "I have fun anytime I like, Mirajane."

"Losing drinking matches to Bacchus doesn't count, you know." Mira smiled.

Cana actually blushed and glanced away, admitting defeat with a mutter of something Laxus couldn't quite catch. There was a flash of red, and suddenly Erza was leaning on the counter with a look of excitement in her eyes that told him she had heard everything that Mira had said.

"There's no shame in asking for help on something as important as keeping your love alive," Erza said, a look of determination in her eyes as she spoke, "I would be happy to give you some pointers."

"I don't need any pointers," he snarled into his drink.

At that, all three women exchanged a knowing look, and Erza's and Cana's seemed especially sympathetic towards Mirajane who had a curl to her lips that translated directly into I told you so. It dawned on him quite suddenly that Mirajane must have told the two a lot of things that Laxus had always assumed she'd kept to herself. Mirajane finally seemed to have a reaction to the daggers Laxus was staring into her, because she flipped her hair over her shoulder and glanced at her nails.

"Oh please, Laxus, you don't think it's only boys who talk, do you?" she smiled roguishly.

"Course not," he muttered against the heat inching its way up his neck.

"We gave Elfman tips, too," Cana cackled into her beer.

Erza nodded, "And Grey."

"Not Natsu?" Laxus quipped, half-sarcastically. The women all rolled their eyes in near unison.

"Oh no, Lucy is on her own with that one," Mira shook her head somberly.

"Making love is an art," Erza said, far more passionately than Laxus was prepared for, "It's a sharing of emotions. It's open, vulnerable, raw..."

"Uh... huh..."

"Don't you want to be connected body, mind, and soul, to the love of your life?" Mira goaded him, eyes distant and dreamy, "Share more than just your bodies?"

"You guys are fucking ridiculous," Laxus growled, noting the way Cana had been rolling her eyes as the other two went on. If he had known he would end up being the entertainment for the day, he never would have walked with Mirajane to the guild. But he was here and they were trying to be helpful. Maybe it was because he was feeling so well today, but he didn't really want to fight. He took in a deep breath, set his jaw, and relented, "What are your fucking tips?"

Mira and Erza both lit up.

"First of all, you need a lot of foreplay," Erza instructed, suddenly all business, "It builds the anticipation."

"Oh, and set the tone for the evening. Clean the house up, maybe trail some rose petals up the stairs and down the hall..." Mira was cupping her face in her hands now, still staring longingly off into space, "Does he like being carried to the bed? Oh, that sounds so lovely..."

"You need to connect as much as possible. Touch everywhere as much as you can," Erza said, nodding to herself, "And be face to face. Missionary is probably best."

Laxus wrinkled his nose a bit, "Missionary."

Both women stopped immediately, giving him their full attention.

"What's wrong with missionary?" Mirajane asked.

"Besides how boring it is?" Cana snapped.

"Gajeel... doesn't like... missionary." he said slowly, and at all three of them staring at him expectantly, he immediately backpedaled, "He doesn't hate it. It's just not really his..."

"Why doesn't he like it?" Mira pried, "I mean, he's being held by the man he loves. What's not to like about that?"

"He doesn't like feeling... uhh..."

She raised a curious brow at him.

"Like a woman?" he blundered out tactlessly.

Her expression immediately turned agitated, "What's wrong with feeling like a woman?"

"Male pride is fragile, Mira," Cana snicked into her bottle.

"Well, we have better orgasms so it's his loss," she snapped back.

"Does he mind being the little spoon? You could always spoon." Erza suggested.

"Well, that's something," Cana pointed out with a bit more interest than before, "He wouldn't be able to see your face. There'd be some mystery to it."

"You could lay beside each other... it'll seem more equal."

"He'd be more comfortable, anyway," Mira agreed while scrubbing down another mug.

"Oh! You should play music!" Erza said with as much excitement as if she'd just realized that was a thing you could do.

"Good use for your record player," Cana agreed mildly.

"Of course, he's going to play music," Mira chuckled, "That's love-making-101."

"I was going to play music," Laxus affirmed.

"Here's an idea," Cana took a big swig of her beer, letting them sit in silence while she finished the last of her drink, before looking him square in the face with a grin, "You should tie him up."

"They're making love. It's not bondage, Cana." Mirajane hmphed at her.

"And what isn't more vulnerable than being tied up, Mirajane?" she pushed back at her, "Think about it. I'm not saying to do anything crazy. No spreader bars or anything. Just tie his hands together. Oh! And a blindfold."

"A blindfold?" Mira grimaced, "To make love?"

"It would heighten his sense of touch..." Erza said slowly, her wheels turning, "I think it's a good idea."

"And it's not nearly so fucking boring."

Mira shrugged and gave him a look, "I suppose it's not an awful idea."

Laxus slowly shook his head at her.

"Oh, come on!" Cana protested, "You can't tell me Gajeel, of all people, doesn't like being tied up!"

Laxus hesitated, "I mean... he used to."

"Used to?" Cana said, exasperated, "What do you mean used to? Being tied up is fun!"

"Not everyone likes the same things you do," Mira said patiently.

"What isn't there to like! The anticipation, not knowing what's going to happen next, feeling like you're helpless to stop whatever is about to happen..."

"This is starting to sound more like a rape fantasy," Erza murmured, fanning herself as she gave Cana a sly look.

Laxus felt his heart start beating a tad harder. Something about this was making Laxus feel angry. He couldn't decide what, though, if it was Cana's words or Erza's.

"I'm just saying, you can't get much more vulnerable than not being able to get yourself untied. Do you guys have a metal headboard? That would be perfect."

"I'm not going to tie Gajeel up," Laxus stated, although he might as well have said nothing because Cana didn't seem to notice the finality in his tone or the serious set to his features.

"I bet with his iron scales Gajeel could break right through anything you used. Do you think they make carbon steel handcuffs?"

"You could probably buy some that are magically fortified," Erza suggested.

How could Cana be so flippant about doing that to someone and suggest Laxus go out of his way to make it so Gajeel would be completely helpless? It made his blood feel hotter. He gritted his teeth and frowned, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," Mira said with a strange bit of quiet to her tone.

"What? Is it just because Laxus is so vanilla?" she chuckled, "Was it so bad that he didn't want to try again? Did you mistake something he said for the safe word?"

"Maybe something happened to him," Laxus growled at her, "Maybe he's scared of feeling like that again."

Erza stiffened and the good humor in her face fled, replaced with something immured by steely eyes.

"To Gajeel?" Cana laughed, "Please, what could have possibly-?"

She stopped when Mira put her hand on her knee, quieting her with a look that could freeze a waterfall. Cana blinked for a second. It was probably all the beer that had her processing the sudden shift in tone so slowly. But Laxus watched the realization as it crept across her face and she looked over at Laxus with a lack of understanding that spoke volumes. He sort of felt bad. It wasn't like Cana knew, or even Erza, for that matter. He regretted getting so angry over something that he knew Cana didn't mean. But now, he didn't know what to say to get the attention off of him. He just took a sip of his beer and avoided the loud gaze of his friend as she tried to figure out why everyone was so quiet, and flighty.

"What about satin ribbons?" Levy jumped when the three women snapped their heads towards her. Laxus only just processed what she'd even said when she started stammering further, "I-I-I mean- I wasn't- I didn't mean to..."

"Eh? You all curious to know what your crush is into?" Cana teased.

Levy blushed, hugging her book to her chest and stomping her foot in a comical display of her anger, "I'm just trying to help."

"You know," Mira started, leaning towards Laxus and giving him her most convincing, apologetic smile he thought he'd ever get from her, "Levy knows all about making love. I'm sure she could give you tons of pointers."

Laxus barked a bit of a laugh, his nerves still running wild from his still warmed temper, "From all the books she's read?"

Levy gave him a bit of an unamused look and with more sass than he had ever seen in the bluenette, she replied rather coldly, "It's all Jet wants to do."

Laxus pretended he wasn't feeling a bit of shameful heat blooming across his cheeks as Cana, Erza, and Mirajane all burst into a fit of laughter at Levy's expense. She just rolled her eyes and began untying the bright orange ribbon that had been keeping her hair back. She approached him sort of like a deer to a thing it's not sure of and then held out her hands, displaying the ribbon plainly for him to see. She was obviously waiting for something but all he did was blink dumbly at her until she motioned forward with her hands. It dawned on him that she wanted him to lay his hands out for her to tie, and so he did, while trying to hide his bemusement. She moved her hands smoothly, taking the ends to wrap around his wrists, cross, and wrap around again, finishing up with a simple bow. She fluffed it up a bit, satisfied with her handy work.

"There," she smiled, "It's easy to get out of and all you have to do to untie it is..."

She tugged at the end and the whole thing came unraveled. The fabric made a silky noise as it slipped off of his arms and back into her hand. She seemed quite pleased with herself as she tied her hair back up.

"Done that once or twice, eh?" Cana smirked, wagging her eyebrows at Levy.

Her reply was muttered behind her hand as if it might keep Laxus from hearing, "I wish."

Cana laughed rowdily again.

They spent a few hours like that, Laxus listening to the ladies as they gossiped and joked about their lovers, past and present. To Laxus's relief, Mirajane kept her criticisms to people other than himself, and he learned far more about Jellal and Jet than he particularly cared to. He tried not to outwardly show his fluster when they would all turn sly eyes to him and ask questions, and strangely he found himself lightening up about talking about his personal life. He let it slip about Gajeel's fascination with fairies, and could hardly look Erza in her rapt eyes when he mentioned having sex in a fairy ring. Levy muttered something about it being right out of a BL novel and the redhead turned a shade of scarlet almost as deep as her own hair.

It was... nice. And it was fun. Laxus didn't realize how much he'd missed this simple human interaction. He'd been so worried about keeping his weariness, his magic deficiency, his problems, out of the eyes of his comrades that he never realized how deprived he'd felt for this. Laughter. Cheeky responses. Ridiculous escapades. He'd missed this. He found himself reluctant to leave but all too soon the sun was beginning to set, and it was time to go home. Laxus had some cleaning up to do before Lily got home.

He walked the girls part of the way to Fairy Hills, and Levy accompanied him a bit into town before leaving him to head toward Jet's house. By the time Laxus got home, it was dark and the stars were accompanying a wide, waxing moon.

He dreaded going back into the house. The shadows of the bushes and trees were long and harsh as he made his way up the drive. The leaves stirred nervously in the wind and he paused to take a steadying breath before he opened the door. His eyes fell to the knife, still grinning like the broken shard of a mirror as it caught the light. He felt the need to turn on a light before he approached it, as if it could scare the enormity of it away. It was when he was reaching down to grip the weathered hilt that he saw the grimoire lying open, face-down on the floor. He swore, realizing it must have fallen when he'd nearly knocked the table over. He fumbled for it, delicately smoothing down the pages in the hopes nothing was ruined after it had been left so carelessly. He grimaced at a deep fold in the page that Davian would no doubt tear into him for leaving.

Maybe he wouldn't notice? After all, it wasn't like he'd looked through every page when he'd had it. But the line of the fold crossed right down an illustration of a golden orb, and the hasty, slanted letters of a description that Laxus could only guess at. He turned his eyes to the top of the page, to the symbols that were no doubt a title or name in Davian's odd, slightly-familiar language. He ran his eyes over them, feeling oddly like he should recognize them. He tilted his head to the side, like it would somehow make him understand a bit better.

A sharp pain ignited his scar and he winced, grunting as he blinked harshly to ease the throbbing.

"Fuck," he rubbed his eye with his palm and said to no one in particular, "What the hell?"

A word on the page jumped out to him, or, he thought it was a word. A jumble of symbols together looked kind of like... draconic? The orb on the page... it was a golden, glowing orb about the size of... an eye. He looked at the title again, the letters that were familiar and unfamiliar but looked sort of like lacrima now that he actually studied them. His heart started beating a little harder as he thumbed at the edge of the page, lifting it slightly to catch a glimpse at the illustration on the other side. Whatever it was, it was a striking yellow in color.

His stomach twisted a little as he turned the page. The smell of old paper made his mouth dry as he stared at words etched in stark, black ink. Words that shifted from one language to another and back again. Draconic symbols were written in something that looked too ruddy to be anything but blood. There was a ritual circle, almost as intricate as the one carved into Davian's skin, and eerily similar. On the other page was a golden dragon illustrated in grim detail, its mouth pulled back in an agonized snarl and heart removed.

Laxus stared at the page, trying to process what he was seeing on the page. As he stared, a warmth like understanding pulsed dimly behind his eye. For the second time that day, the grimoire dropped onto the floor as the realization hit him. The page that the grimoire had fallen to was how to make a Dragon Slayer lacrima.