Chapter 104:

When Gajeel had called saying he was headed home, there was a shadow on his face and gruff detachment in his voice. Laxus had wanted to ask, but at the same time he didn't. There had been a disquieting tension to the three of them as they walked, and Laxus could see the brilliant pink of Juvia's umbrella in the background and hear the rainfall. His stomach fell because he knew something bad had happened, but when he asked Gajeel just turned his eyes from him and shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it.

"I'll be happy to see you... when you get here," Laxus said.

"Yeah..." Gajeel had sighed, fighting to bring back some of his mirth and failing quite miserably, "I'll be happy to be home. Gotta stop at a place on the way but I'll be back by tomorrow."

Laxus let out a huff as the receiver deactivated. That didn't bode well for their date, did it? But then again, Gajeel was so skilled at hiding how he really felt. More than likely, in an attempt to not ruin anything for Laxus, he'll put on a brave face and pretend nothing was the matter at all, and all while still smelling like cigarette smoke and whiskey.

Old habits, Laxus thought.

He decided that he wouldn't let any of that get him down. He'd woken up again today as he had before, nightmare-less, and well-rested. He had noticed that the hag stone Davian had given him looked smokier, somehow, as he pocketed the trinket once again. It was an odd little thing, and he didn't want to admit that it was working but, well, he did feel better. So, he brought it with him as he strolled through Magnolia, heading for a few places in preparation for tomorrow.

It had taken more effort than it was probably worth convincing Mira not to go with him when he went shopping for his date. She all but outright said that he wouldn't do any of this right, which stung his ego more than a little bit. So, he probably thought harder than he should have on things that really didn't matter much at all. He went to the record shop and perused the selection of saccharine love albums for far too long, picking the same one up and setting it down again at least a dozen times before settling on something entirely different. The lady at the counter – with gages, a lip ring, and a sweater that her mother probably handmade her – gave him a glance and then the album an apprising look as if she was deciding, yeah, that looked like an album he would buy, before placing it in a bag for him to carry.

He bought candles... like a lot of candles. They were larger votives, the ones that you'd see huddled together on a windowsill during the winter holidays. They were ivory colored and odorless because Laxus knew how much of a freak Gajeel could be when it came to scents. He enjoyed the smell of sex in the air. Far be it for him to cover it up with something as mediocre as vanilla sprinkle cookie or passionfruit salad or something equally as inane.

He probably spent the longest amount of time parsing through fabrics, or more accurately, lengths of ribbon. The color was easy, it was the texture that he was worried about. He was holding a length of rich, black satin in his hands, running his thumbs over its softness, when a sweet, elderly lady approached him and asked him what he was making. He blanched and tried to think of something to reply with. After a confusing back and forth, she showed him to a selection of silks and picked for him the smoothest, softest ribbon he thought he'd ever felt.

Finally, he stopped at a vendor whose baskets were brimming with seasonal flowers. Irises, daffodils, magnolias, and alstroemerias made his head spin. He ran his thumb over the brilliant petal of a sunflower as he ran his eyes over the selection. He had the florist bundle him a dozen red roses, the blooms of which were so large they nearly fit the palm of his hand, and some snapdragons for the table. If he were a better man, he'd steal himself up to one of Gajeel's favorite sparring areas and go handpick wildflowers. But he knew his mate. The bastard was flashy. He'd prefer the roses simply because that was just what you did when you made love. On his way back home, he stopped off at the liquor store to buy one of Gajeel's favorite top shelf bourbon whiskeys, just in case they ended up in the mood to indulge, although he doubted they would.

People rarely think of the logistics of dates. Dinner and a show is just so common, so thoughtless, like paying for a ticket to get laid. Laxus was thinking of how to get the petals set up before they went to The Garden's Edge so he could just whisk Gajeel up the stairs when they returned. He didn't want to make him wait downstairs for him to sprinkle them about everywhere. And lighting the candles? He rolled his eyes. Being Natsu would have been nice for that. Just blink and all the wicks would catch. Damn bastard probably didn't do anything like that, but it'd be effortless for him.

He'd placed the snapdragons on the table and was in the middle of snapping the long stems of the roses when he realized he had one too many. Idly, he counted them again. Thirteen. That was a lot of rose petals, and they were already so full that he was sure there'd be a carpet of them. He hummed lowly and grabbed a kettle. Rose tea. Why the hell not. He was in a good mood, after all.

While the tea was steeping, Laxus found himself looking at the pages of the Grimoire. He had memorized where the page about the dragon lacrima was and turned right to it. He'd stared at it several times now, trying to make sense of what he was seeing as if he could just will the ability to read another language into his skill set. It was just that he felt it was right there on the edge of something he knew, that he should be able to piece it together...

He shook his head and grabbed a basket, dropping the heads of the roses into it and setting the Grimoire on top. He grabbed his rose tea and headed out the back door.

Lily had insisted on the patio set while Gajeel was in prison. Of course, Gajeel and Laxus hadn't much cared at the time since neither of them were home, but now Laxus really appreciated the homey Exceed. He sat in the sun and began gently plucking petals from blooms and dropping them into the basket, soon beginning to stain his fingers.

So, he'd found the recipe to make a Dragon Slayer Lacrima in a grimoire from an ancient library guarded by sphynxes. He was led to a grimoire with the recipe to make a Dragon Slayer Lacrima by a guardian sphynx. A guardian sphynx that was blessed to see past, present, and future, who told him his love was going to die, that a sleep paralysis demon was slowly eating him alive, and also said a person with no knowledge of their origin is a tree without roots. This same sphynx, after showing him the grimoire with the recipe, then told him something he had protected him and he would die without it... and then he was kicked out and told not to come back. To feed his hunger elsewhere. Oh, and that breath. That breath he'd come to associate with chameleons? That was there too... for some reason.

Laxus did consider himself a relatively smart man, but he had no idea what to make of it all.

Come to think of it, when was the first time he'd felt that breath? It was when Bianca had cornered him, when she'd stabbed him in the leg and then revealed herself to him. Then later, he'd felt it going after Rut, when he'd followed Davian through the warehouse and just before he'd ambushed him from behind. He'd heard it before he'd met Orotrushit, when Davian had somehow given Serrill a new heart in exchange for taking his arm. He'd heard it when he was about to leave the Bloodgood Atheneum's archive, of course, and then most recently when Davian had done the introduction ritual, just before the voice began speaking.

He knew it had to do with chameleons, but he didn't know exactly what. At first he thought it was just a sign that one was near, something he could latch onto when one used their glamour. Except, Davian used his glamour a lot, all the time, and he'd only heard it around him three times, and one of those was when Davian wasn't using his glamour at all. He didn't hear it when Rut had used his glamour, and he was pretty certain if a chameleon had been in the archive then Dimisia wouldn't have been attacking him. So then, why? How were all of these things connected?

He'd felt it at its strongest during the ritual. Did that mean... it belonged to the voice? Then that would mean the voice, whatever it had been, had been there in those instances, too. But... why? What had he spoken to, exactly?

He leaned back against his chair and stared up into the sky, rubbing together the rose petals in his hand.

Oros? Had he spoken to Oros? He sort of figured talking to a god would bring a lot more fanfare with it. The earth would shake, the skies darken, lost souls would shriek from the ether, something. He remembered the nightmarish way that black liquid oozed from Davian's eyes, his nose, how his feathers had grown incredibly long, and he looked less human than he'd ever seen him. He'd looked a lot like Orotrushit sans the golden scarring over his eye. Davian only bled like that after he called on his god, used his god's power. But for all he knew, his brother looked like that too. It wasn't like he had something to compare the experience to.

When he'd asked what was wrong with Davian, it had said the vessel was incomplete. Davian was incomplete. Davian was incomplete. He'd said so on more than one occasion. The reason he didn't have a tail was from refusing to perform the Rite of the Body, and swapping ritual components when he was asked to. So, the reason Davian's rituals affected him so drastically was because he was half human, and not a fullblood? Did that mean the voice, whatever it had been, had possessed Davian during the introduction? Oros had possessed Davian? But he said that was something that hadn't happened since the wizards eradicated most of his kind. What did that mean? That Davian was the next thing Father was? The Aurincarae. That... made sense. Davian had said Father had called him to take his place, one day...

So, he had talked to Oros during the introduction! The breath... the breath was Oros, or a sign of the god's presence? That meant the introduction worked! ...except he hadn't really learned much aside from the fact that Gajeel's life was required for a ritual. Covenanted. But it didn't say it was covenanted to him, just that it was. But if his life wasn't promised to the old god... then who...?

If he didn't find out who Gajeel's life was promised to and find some way to break it, would he end up cut open with a ritual blade? Or would he see something terrible like Kahli? He winced at the memory of empty eye sockets. Davian never had said how Kahli died, just that Father had done it. Father, something that the sphynx said was real but also wasn't at the same time, something Davian said no one had ever seen, or at least, never saw and lived to tell about it…

Laxus's mind was spinning. Gods, no gods, chameleons, sphynxes, grimoires... and here he was, plucking rose petals and dropping them into a basket. He sipped on his rose tea, now lukewarm, and sighed.

He'd never been aware of Kahli, except, perhaps, in Edelweiss. He'd thought he'd seen someone standing amongst the bamboo, there one second and gone the next. He'd chalked it up to late nights and hangover at the time but now... no, he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to consider the idea that there could be someone standing near him, just out of sight, and he none the wiser.

Laxus hadn't tried to sense bioelectric fields since that time he'd eaten lightning. To be fair, he hadn't exactly been trying then either. It had just... happened. He scoffed lightly to himself as he remembered what that was like, and then seeing Gajeel, and his memories... could he do that again? He leaned back and concentrated, closed his eyes and reached out, feeling with his magic, searching. Lightning mages, as with all mages, weave a bit of themselves into their lightning. If he happened upon what was left of Hajime's magic, the red spark of it, or Orga and his lightning god slayer magic, he would know instinctively who it belonged to. Like a signature with a particular and striking curve, it couldn't be replicated. He wondered if bioelectricity was the same; if every creature had its own version of it, or if it was all just the same shades of the same thing.

It took effort, it took concentration, but slowly he became aware of the movement in the trees. Birds and their erratic fields, hopping down one branch or taking flight or alighting. He just sat and felt, allowed his focus to shift from one moving creature to another, and slowly began to notice a weight curling against his own ribcage, a weight not dissimilar to when Lily would lay on his chest during a thunderstorm. It wasn't stifling, and Laxus recognized it as the warmth that had settled there during the introduction ritual. Virale. Lightning in the blood.

He turned his sight inward, focused on the twisting light that crackled up and down his spine and expanded around him. He watched it, felt it, and briefly considered attempting to manipulate it but... but he didn't think that would be a good idea. He didn't really know what would happen if he broke something out of place. Disrupting it with magic, pumping lightning straight into it, would probably kill him in microseconds and no one would understand why. But shifting it, moving it to his whim, the energy that came naturally from his nervous system... he didn't know enough about it to know what it could do-

Something bright, far brighter than his own light, shifted into his periphery.

"Oh! Laxus! Hello there."

Everything suddenly snapped back into focus and he gasped, nearly dropping his tea. He winced a bit as he glanced over to see Levy standing by the gate. She looked a bit startled despite the sunshine smile that was never too far away.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"You're... fine." why was she so much brighter than he was? Was that just her or...?

After a pause where he was trying to gather his thoughts, she said, "Is Gajeel around?"

Of course, he thought sardonically, "No. He's actually heading back to Magnolia. He won't be here until tomorrow."

"Oh," her face... didn't fall. She hid the disappointment far too quickly for that to happen. Instead, she just smiled meekly and opened up a satchel to her side, "Well, in any case, do you mind to give him these when he's back?"

Laxus took them from her, two books with nondescript covers. One, upon inspection, seemed filled with her own writing, "What are they?"

"I guess while he was in Phantom Lord he stumbled on that one. It's in Draconic. He asked me to translate it a while ago and it's taken some time but I've finally done it," she beamed, quite proud of herself.

"You can translate Draconic?"

Her eyes got a little big and in a flustered way she said, "Not without a key, but yes, I can."

"Really?" Laxus mused, "Gajeel couldn't translate it himself?"

"He speaks it, fluently," she stated, somewhat matter-of-factly. She flipped open the book with her transcribing and showed Laxus an extensive key in the first couple of pages, "Metalicana was more concerned with teaching him to read and write what little he knew of our language, because he knew eventually Gajeel would have to join society. I can only assume he didn't know how soon. He did tell me most of the alphabet, but the actual writing system is a mix of phonetic and syllabic characters. It makes it more difficult to translate, since it's not a one-to-one translation. And the grammar is..." She waived her hand back and forth, "Sort of like talking backwards."

"Talking backwards?" Laxus quirked a brow at her.

"Yes, so... here," she opened up to a passage and pointed to her writing, "We would say Earthland tribes often had skirmishes at the borders of the Dragon's lands which initiated conflict between those tribes and the dragons. But if you read it directly it would read more like Skirmishes at the Dragon's borders by Earthland tribes... by tribes..." she frowned, flipped the book around to face her and muttered something to herself before continuing, "caused conflict of the tribes and the dragons... Something like that. It still takes me a while."

"Wow... and you did this whole thing? How long did that take?"

"Oh, haha, about three months," she laughed, "It was just a little something I worked on in between jobs. It's been helpful. I'm trying to trace back some of Fiore's root languages. Draconic seems to find its way into a lot of different places. It's made some of my other work a lot easier."

"Your other work?"

"I've been doing a lot of rewriting at the Bloodgood Atheneum," she sighed.

"Still working on that?" Laxus's eyes ran through the pages she had written, picking it apart as he skimmed. A history, he concluded, told by a dragon.

"Oh yes," she didn't hide the exasperation in her voice, "the librarians want everything as close to original as possible. They have high standards... n-not that there's anything wrong with that. It just makes things take longer. But they're paying us well for our work."

Laxus flipped the book closed and tucked them each under his arm.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked, and when he stared at her blankly a bit of blush tinged her cheeks, "Lacrimas?"

"Oh," he said, eloquently, "I... did, I think, but I can't read it."

Puzzlement crossed her face.

"It's in Draconic, actually..." he was hesitant to say so out loud. The opportunity had pretty much fallen into his lap but... well... what would Levy think when she took a look at the grimoire and realized what it was?

"Would you like some help?" she smiled in that distressingly genuine way that she did. When he again hesitated, she leaned forward conspiratorially, "Is it cursed? I have been working with a lot of cursed books lately."

"It's... illegal." Laxus conceded. To his surprise, her eyes practically lit up.

"Really? And it's in Draconic? Can I take a look? Please?"

"I, uh... yeah. Just don't tell anyone about it."

"I won't breathe a word!" she damn near whispered and sashayed into the yard, "Is this it?"

"Yeah."

She plopped down opposite him and her eyes widened in amazement as she looked it over.

"Laxus! You found a grimoire?" she gasped, "No wonder you were so cagey."

"I wasn't cagey," he muttered, pulling rose petals apart, "I just... it doesn't belong to me. I don't think I'm supposed to have it."

"Absolutely." she reached a bit blindly for her book of notes, never letting her eyes leave the page, "Dragon Slayer Lacrima... this is... how to make one?"

"Yeah..." he watched her for a moment, "Can you... translate it?"

Her eyes snapped up to him for a moment, first dismay, then a wry smile coming to her lips, "Of course I can."

It was about the haughtiest thing he'd ever heard from the little bluenette. She had a fire in her eyes he didn't think he'd ever seen before. Again, he was suddenly very aware of why Gajeel would have been so drawn to her. He wasn't jealous of her, not as much as he had once been, but he could definitely see it. He'd only ever seen her as a shy, bookish, skittish woman. There was a side to her, though, that when she was no longer flustered, burned nearly as fiercely as Natsu. If the girl had more confidence, and maybe half the aggression, she would probably rival Mirajane or Erza.

"Ritual Magic is so interesting, isn't it?" she mused as she began writing things down, "I could hardly imagine using something with such high stakes now..."

"What do you mean, high stakes?" Laxus asked.

"Well, I mean, a lot of times Rituals were inconsistent. Gods are fickle. They have their own will. So, if you're asking a god for power to do something, they could just not do it... because they don't want to. And even if they do, if something goes wrong, the whole thing could fall apart or worse," she was running her finger over the curve of the ritual circle, marking down the characters and what they translated to, "We trade off emotion, then whatever our mental capabilities are, then the physical toll happens. But it's all a steady build. If you become a strong fighter, your magic improves. If you train your mind with meditation, your magic improves. Genetics. And even then, the magic is ours. It's our will that manipulates it. But this...?"

She picked her way down the page, reading and rereading.

"Everything is in terms of components. Like with alchemy. The main component, is a dragon."

"A dragon?" Laxus said, dumbfounded. She nodded and handed the book over to him, along with the page of her scribblings, "You're kidding me."

"No," she stated, "You need a strong conductive crystal. This ritual circle, made in the dragon's blood. It requires a lot of pain, and a disruption of... something. I'm not sure what that symbol means. I can only guess it's a type of energy, maybe? Given the context..."

"Virale," Laxus murmured. He took in a shaky breath, "The life energy... in all living things..."

"...yes..." she eyed him a bit suspiciously, "it says only after causing excruciating pain and then disrupting the Virale, all of it can be funneled into the crystal."

"You're tellin' me I have a dragon in my eye?" he was looking up at her, at the alarm that crossed her face that she then quickly schooled back away.

"Not a dragon... the dragon is dead. Or, maybe not exactly dead... it's just the essence, the magic and its lifeforce. It wouldn't think or have feelings. It's not a... being, anymore. It's turned into pure energy, pure magic."

"Fuck," Laxus breathed and leaned back in his chair, "That's... fuck."

"U-um... if you don't mind me asking, why are you looking into this, Laxus?"

Laxus picked at flower petals.

"If I tell you, Levy..." she physically jumped at his words, as if worried he'd reach over and grab her, "You can't breathe a word. To anyone. Including Gajeel."

"U-um... ok."

He sighed and told her about everything he'd been going through. His sudden magic deficiency, his anemia, how it all seemed unprompted and out of nowhere. He talked about Porlyusica's thoughts, and Gramp's, and how they wanted to remove the lacrima entirely to try and save his life. When he was done, Levy seemed a bit stricken, her lips set in a firm line.

"You don't want to tell Gajeel...?" she asked.

"He's got his own shit to worry about."

"O-oh..." she said, and he didn't like the way that she seemed thoughtful and forlorn at the same time, "Well... I think you're right, Laxus."

"You... think I'm right?"

"About the lacrima," she amended, "If what you're saying is true, that you haven't actually used any of the power from it, then it's not what's causing the magic deficiency. Even if Porlyusica's theory is correct and you're no longer generating magic like you once were, it doesn't make sense. A lacrima isn't a dragon or even dragon slayer; it's energy. It doesn't get hungry. You could use the power inside slowly over time, maybe, but it wouldn't take your magic unless you made the effort to put it in there. It has the essence of a life, but it's not alive, or at least, that's what this grimoire seems to indicate. And on top of all of that, magic deficiency doesn't cause anemia. If they started at the same time... I think it's safe to assume whatever is causing one is also causing the other."

"So... what are you saying?" Laxus asked.

"Something is draining your magic, Laxus, but I don't think it's the lacrima."

"Well... at least that's something."

"Is it?" she barely smiled.

"You're a very intelligent woman, Levy. Definitely more than me. If that's what you think, then I want to believe you."

Despite it all, he felt relieved. Armed with this, maybe he could keep Gramps at bay for a little longer.

"If you don't mind me saying, you don't look like you're magic deficient... not right now."

"I don't think I am," he hummed, and fished out the trinket in his pocket, "Someone gave me this, and ever since then it seems to have stopped."

A curious look wrote itself across Levy's face as she took the jade hagstone from him and turned it over in her hands, "Is this jade?"

"Yeah. Know anything about it?"

"I know some superstitions," she said, thoughtful, "A jade hagstone."

"What kind of superstitions are there?" Laxus asked, "Aside from seeing fairies."

"What kind of superstitions aren't there," she laughed, but not in poor nature, "Jade is associated with the heart chakra and healing. First nations tribes to the north, they used to make jade masks in order talk to certain spirits. To the south, I think, it's known for emotional healing, dreamwork, and connecting with higher realms? Imperial Jade, specifically – that's what this looks like – is supposed to have protective properties from evil spirits.

"And a hag stone...? You can hang it over your door to ward off evil spirits. Tie it with rope on a ship to keep witches from clinging to it and break up storm clouds. Wear it around your neck for good health. Attach it to your bedpost to keep bad dreams away. Tie it to something you don't want to get lost. Use it to help conceive a child... the list is endless. It's all a little silly."

"But I feel better," Laxus defended.

"Maybe whoever gave it to you imbued it with magic?" she muttered, "But I certainly don't sense anything."

"Who knows," Laxus hummed, knowing damn well if Davian had imbued it with anything, neither of them would be able to tell because it wouldn't have been with magic, "Maybe superstition has some truth to it."

"Maybe," she laughed lightheartedly, handing it back to him. For a moment, they just sat in silence, Levy glancing through pages and muttering about languages and what the rest of the book could mean, and Laxus patiently plucking rose petals and sipping on his long-cold tea.

"So..." the bluenette started keenly, "Those are for your date?"

Laxus's lips twisted in a bit of a smirk, "Yeah."

"That's sweet," she said kindly, "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Hope so. It's a pain in the ass."

"Did you... u-um..." her face flushed with scarlet, "Did you want to practice the knot I showed you?"

Laxus paused, also feeling embarrassment crawling up his neck. He sucked in a bit of a hiss, "I probably should."

She tucked an unruly strand of hair and waited expectantly. He fetched the ribbon and returned feeling all the more embarrassed and desperately trying to hide it. She took it from him and smoothed it between her fingers before motioning for him to present his wrists again, tying it and untying it, and then again.

He cleared his throat a bit uneasily, "I appreciate the help."

"Mm-hm," she hummed a bit coyly, "I hope it all turns out well."

Laxus blinked, "An odd thing to say, isn't it?"

"I'm not Cana, Laxus. I pick up on things," she said quietly, "I'm small and my magic isn't the best for combat. I'm used to sitting in the background and offering assistance when I think I can. You notice a lot of things when you live like that."

"I didn't mean..." he paused, "...what do you mean?"

She pursed her lips in thought as she passed him the ribbon. This time she showed her wrists to him and let him clumsily begin tying. She took a slow breath, like she was remembering something unpleasant.

"I'm small. I'm not like Erza, or Cana, or even Lucy. I'm an easy target, I guess, especially for drunk men at bars. There was a night when Jet and I got into an argument. He was supposed to walk me home but I decided I was going to leave by myself. I shouldn't have to be walked home, but drunk men do what they do..." she sighed, "It wasn't Jet who came to my rescue. It was Gajeel. He hadn't been at the guild long and I was still terrified of him. You could imagine my shock when he came to my defense, and then after, when he was furious with me."

"Furious with you?" Laxus scoffed, "Why would he be furious with you?"

"I'm not a fighter, and when I do, I fight other wizards, Laxus. I don't just get into fights," she smiled mirthlessly, "He was angry with me for pulling my punches. He was... candid... about how they weren't looking for a fair fight. And if they're not, why was I trying to give them one?"

"Oh."

"Yeah..." she sighed, not making his gaze, "...you weren't there when Phantom Lord tried to start a guild war. Gajeel ambushed us late one night. I'm sure you heard. He looked like that when he helped me, like that night he nailed us to the sakura tree. It was... frightening. At the time, I thought it was maybe because he'd been one of those guys who enjoyed cornering some girl in a dark alley. Now..." she shook her head, "...forgive me for making an assumption off what I heard when you were talking with the girls the other day, but, something bad has happened to him, hasn't it?"

"A lot of bad things have happened to him." He let it hang there, let Levy draw her own conclusions, and then he changed the subject, untying the knot so he could try again, this time with a bit more prowess. "And somehow, you still got a crush on him."

"It was an accident," she admitted, "I didn't want to be scared of him anymore, so I started trying to get to know him. B-but, if I had known... I would have backed off. I'm Gajeel's friend first, your friend first. I want you both to be happy. I would never get in between you two... not if I knew better. I'm sorry if how I acted made you upset."

Laxus swallowed, suddenly feeling very guilty for every time he ever thought poorly of the blue-haired woman across from him.

"T's my fault. Jealousy is for kids," he muttered. This time, when he finished, she grinned mischievously over at him and held up her arms for him to get a good look.

"Good job."

He gritted his teeth as he blushed, "You show Jet how to do that, yet?"

"No... no, I have not," she sighed hopelessly, "I don't want to make him upset."

"Learning how to tie handcuffs using ribbon would make him upset?" he quirked a brow at her, "Shouldn't he just be happy it pleases you?"

She widened her eyes at the table, obviously thinking something but not giving voice to it.

"You don't think bringing it up gently would work?"

"I shouldn't have to bring it up gently," she bit back, although not angry with him. He tried not to smirk at her expense, "I should be able to say it and he not shut me down immediately. Satin is soft, it won't bruise my skin."

"Want me to say something?" he asked, a sly smile slipping across his face, "You helped me, I can help you."

"H-how would you do that?" she was suddenly timid again, fidgeting a bit with the ribbon before passing it back to him.

"Hey, Jet, I heard something and I just had to ask. Does Levy really love being tied up? No? That's not what she told Mira..."

She laughed and then took a tone that clearly mimicked Jet's, "Oh, but Laxus, you know how big of a gossip Mira is. My sweet little Levy would never."

"Mira is a gossip, yes, but is she wrong?" he quirked a brow at her, "She's not often wrong."

"You underestimate his bull-headed-ness." Levy laughed again and shook her head, "But sure, if you have the chance, give it a shot. I'm desperate."

They talked for a little longer, and Laxus found the confidence to ask for advice on lighting candles. A simple rune she taught him would make that part, at least, a lot smoother. She asked about possibly looking through the grimoire again, when she needed to get out of the house and away from Jet for a while, and he shrugged, not seeing the harm. Either she was confident in his ability to take care of himself, or perhaps didn't properly grasp the severity of what he had... or she was so used to reading banned and illegal books at this point in her life that she didn't care. He didn't ask, and she didn't press him either. The sun was starting to sink by the time she finally collected her things and decided to leave, and he spent some time alone, just appreciating the night as it descended.

Lily came home and discussed his time with Charla and Wendy. He asked how he had been feeling, and Laxus casually left out his discussion with Levy. Lily gave him a knowing look when he mentioned Gajeel's return home the next day, and only the Exceed could be so salacious when saying something like "I suppose I'll be staying with Wendy tomorrow night, then?"

By the end of the evening, Laxus was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, Lily curled comfortably against his side. His stomach twisted, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was hopeful and it was excited. He was looking forward to what his immediate future would bring. As he closed his eyes and let himself relax, he sent up a silent prayer to... someone, that tomorrow would be a good day as well.

Author's Notes:

Posting in moderation so as to not get burned out is for schmucks.