*insert creative greeting here*
randomusername2, thank you so much for your review! I'm so happy you liked the chapter and also thanks a ton for mentioning both my characters as well as new country! Makes all the effort worth it!
pilikali, thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that even though it was a more or less action packed chapter, I'm glad it managed to ease the tension. Thanks for commenting so kindly on the kissing scene; that took me a while to get into words, thank you so much on your wonderful feedback on that! I'm doing my best to be punctual with such lovely reviews!
foxydame, how you even manage to write such long reviews, thank you so so much! Thanks also for the comment on Caelum; I'm trying to make it imaginable enough without over describing. Ah, and thank you for mentioning the mission! To be honest, I was expecting scolding for Erza participating in missions; I really wasn't expecting you to find it so well written, thank you! So many compliments on that, yay! Thank you! (Did I say thank you yet? Cause damn, I'm really grateful) Haha, and I hadn't even thought about Erza rubbing of on him but now that you mention it xD quite true.
Without further ado, hope you enjoy the fluff.
It was well past midnight when they finally fell into bed. Lovestoned – and as torn not to get their partner's attractive outfits off them as they were eager to just do so already – the two all but collapsed in a mess of sighs, kisses and at some point giggles.
She killed the mood when accidentally snorting into his face at the way he ungainly chortled with laughter. It earned herself a pout and later a tickle attack when her laughing would only return at his struggle with his unwilling zipper.
In the end, she was more than happy with a long lasting, gradually softening make out session. They were both more than tired, anyway. It reminded her of their equally successful wedding night.
Deflating with a sigh of content – a sigh of exhaustion echoing back at her from her body – Erza snuggled into his embrace. She breathed in his scent, grazed a hand through his hair, nudged her head where it belonged beneath his chin and pulled his torso flush against hers. As flush as her curves allowed.
He stiffened when she had almost drifted off. Having remembered about their captive next doors – not least because he felt his energy, or rather Ethernano drain despite them having come to rest – Jellal got up. With a pair of trousers and long coat to circumvent any more cumbersome getting dressed, he left her to stay within their warm haven. She could hear him next doors, then his voice activating Meteor, followed by excited voices down below on the almost empty streets.
Those slowcoaches, still not done at the scene of the crime. At least it was convenient to hand in the culprit, she admitted to herself.
Jellal returned through the window, closing it behind him. Not long after they had cuddled up again, a multitude of steps climbed the stairs. The room next door was being inspected by the apparently insufficiently trained police.
Erza stalled the arrival of their well-deserved sleep one last time to contact Warren. The call already rang when she remembered long distances not to be working in favour of the device – as well as the time difference to Magnolia. To her surprise, the call was put through anyway. She blamed it on the strong Ethernano of Caelum, resorting to writing a text and then drop right onto her husband again.
She was tired, mind and body alike. She was fluttery, the action, crime and excitement leaving her restless in anticipation for more, though not in a particularly bad way. She felt satisfied with their job so quickly fulfilled; with their perfectly syntonic acting that needed no more than the bare necessities of communication – a glance, a nod, the touch of a hand.
She felt as if falling for him again and again.
Now thinking, just before slumber took her, that if that night was any indication of what their honeymoon was going to look like, Erza could not wait for morning to come.
"Alright, I'll pass it on," Erza said into her lacrima, "thanks," she nodded.
"Oh, wait, Erza,"
"Hm?" She harked when Warren took his sweet time with answering, seeming indecisive. "Out with it,"
"Are there…" hehe hesitated, "are there really a bunch of girls waiting for my miniature communication lacrimas?" He asked, and she could practically see him wiggle excitedly yet humbly to himself. She had to smile.
"Exclusively," she replied. He gave a small squeak. For someone with his usually serious yet upbeat demeanour, he sounded as if having the time of his life without actually being there in person. She wondered whether his admittedly fantastic invention had reaped the success he had hoped for when airing it in Fiore, coming to the conclusion that a country filled to the brim with magical artefacts hardly acknowledged his achievement. It made her realise why hardly anyone possessed one, not even within its inventor's guild.
"Then I'll deliver them myself!" He somewhat yelled.
"I'll send you the location," Erza offered. "It's not hard to find; just a good ten minutes away from the port," she informed. Exchanging their goodbyes, she turned back to the group of women her fan from the other night had brought. A whole swarm, all chattering and dreamy-eyed at both the lacrima and Warren himself.
"So how much for one of them?" The women from the other night asked.
"80.000 Jewels, but he said he'll give you a discount depending on how many you order," Erza winked. The cluster burst into girly giggles as if they were a good ten or fifteen years younger. Perhaps they were, Erza thought to herself, finding it hard to judge their ages. One thing was rather clear however, and that was the fact that foreigners – though in the current case men – were more than popular. They had hardly heard Warren's voice and already started squabbling over him.
Not to mention the way they eyed Jellal, a mixture of wonder and hunger in their eyes.
"80.000 Jewels?" The women's eyes widened. "But that's like…" she quietly calculated under her breath.
"Only about 600 Pentz!" Another cried and the rest squealed. How that delighted them so much, Erza did not understand. It was still almost an entire month's rent at Fairy Hills. But since the near bank robbery in one of Caelum's most prosperous towns had not fazed its citizens too much, she guessed they could afford it.
"He said he'll deliver them himself, so the journey will take him two to three days," Erza illuminated when the wild bunch finally quieted somewhat.
"He's coming all the way to us?" One of the women squealed and the rest joined.
"What a gentleman,"
"I bet he's super handsome," the rest began to whisper again. Erza inhaled deeply as not so roll her eyes.
"In any case, he will be meeting you here in three days time, and I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you could convert the payment to Jewels in advance," she noted, receiving hefty nodding. "You'll know him when you see him,"
"Because of this antenna thing on his head?" Jellal piped up from the side. He was still hiding behind her halfway to escape the besotted gaping. She had to smile.
"Exactly," she raised her voice again, "he has this little," she gestured an antenna going up from her hairline, "of hair, so you'll find him easily," she confirmed.
"Does that thing have magic abilities?" Jellal quietly asked her as they steered off. The women were too busy with swooning anyway, some already storming the bank to ready their money.
"His hair…?" She repeated her gesture on her head and he nodded. She had to laugh. "No," she linked her arm with his, and he gladly pulled her closer. "It's just his special feature," she said. "Like the mark on your face or the colour of my hair," she smiled up at him as they walked on. He returned it, though she detected the hint of a smirk before it settled into place.
"And do you know another special feature of mine?" He arched a brow. It was her turn to mirror him, and she felt her heart flutter when he leaned his head down to brush past those tresses of scarlet he loved so much. "Being devoted to you," he murmured. She giggled, if only at the sensation of his breath above her ear.
"Mmh," she hummed, dropping her own head against his arm the moment he retreated. "You're certainly right about that," she agreed. His words echoed in her mind, and realisation only came after another, painfully unnecessary moment of thought. He had actually called himself good at something!
The fact that she had taken more than a second to grasp it was almost just as shocking. Because he really had made a lot of progress. She could hardly believe herself how she had not noticed on the spot. His uncharacteristic uttering of wishes she still noticed, his boldness in the bedroom was something she was nearly used to, but his recognition of his own worthiness was not something she should have already brushed off so easily. Oh, but it felt good to do so. Her insides were warming as her smile grew.
"I don't know anyone more selflessly devoted than you," she tugged on his arm, hindering their walk considerably. It was worth the closeness, she decided, so they wobbled along the pavement. "You sacrifice your every free minute for me, you learned how to cook and bake just to read my every wish from my eyes," she gave a squeeze and he squeezed back. She was enjoying his lack of complaints at her shower of compliments. "You remember every detail of my likes and dislikes, guess my unspoken thoughts and treat me to new things I'd never have discovered otherwise.
"You put up with my quirks and you endure my moods and kinks," she grinned, seeing how he was smiling, too. To himself, perhaps having done so since she started, allowing himself to welcome her praises. "You leave your comfort zone to accompany me to my friends-"
"So do you," he intervened then. "You came to the gala on such a short notice,"
"Oh, that doesn't count," she shook her head. "I really wanted to come," she corrected but he kept his smile. It suited him more than he knew.
"It does to me," he took her grasping hand in his free one, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. With a pull, she directed his now captured hand to her own lips, returning the favour.
Letting it sink, they went on in silence. There was said to be a library. They wanted to ask for a map of the region. Her mind wandered however, and not where it had dwelled in bed; not at the adventure that had only just begun. She pondered, then worried, her own words having brought back something she had managed to defer until now.
"Hey, Jellal?" She asked, a tad of shyness damming up her previous enthusiasm.
"Hm?" His eyes scanned the surrounding shops in search of their target.
"Remember when we went to Porlyusica?" She carefully started. A twitch flashed over his expression, and she was surprised when it turned out as the beginning of a smirk.
"You mean when you asked her if we could keep on having sex?" He raised a single brow, though there was a trace of blush on his cheeks. Nonetheless, it shot a tinge of pink into her own.
An old lady passing them by chocked on her own spit at overhearing his last words.
"Now that you say it like that, it does sound a little awkward…" she mumbled.
"A little?" He almost stopped, stumbling a little as he had to chuckle with embarrassment. "I've been having nightmares about it!" He grinned sheepishly. She blinked unbelievingly.
"Really?"
"Yeah, only there you asked in front of the entire guild," his free hand came up to scratch his nape. She smiled fondly at that. That gesture that was so Jellal.
"Sorry about that," she averted her gaze.
"Don't worry," he tugged again, this time to plant a firm kiss on the top of her head. A kiss that asked her; that told her how he was not genuinely upset with her and that he cared despite changing the topic. "But that wasn't what you were aiming at, was it?" He granted another kiss to her temple, the momentary unease flowing out of her like the sun bathed them in garishly golden light where it pushed through the fluffy clouds.
"No," she admitted, "it's just that…" Erza had to sigh. Not so much to herself as about herself. "She told us so many things to do properly, like cooking freshly and washing regularly, changing the sheets or dusting, working to save up money, reading about the pregnancy," she enumerated, her voice losing more and more zeal as she went on. It visibly puzzled him.
"That's not a problem," he soothed, "we've already been doing a fine job so far,"
"No, that is the problem," she interrupted. "It's not us, it's you. You do all of those things!" She hardly restrained herself from a small outburst. "And now that I don't even go on missions, I don't contribute anything," she sighed, this time undoubtedly at herself. Not being the housewife had always bugged her, if slightly considering the amount of spoiling it had bestowed upon her. Still, that bit had inflated after her last mission – the mission she had come to realise could have very well been her last for months to come.
Jellal jerked her out of her thoughts when he halted abruptly. He stared to the side, his glance caught by what she identified as a clothes shop for women. She yelped when he towed her inside without warning, crossing over to the till.
"We'd like to try the one in the window, please," he asked. The lady went to find another on a hanger – another whatever he had spotted, Erza thought to herself all the while being shoved into the first changing room.
"Jellal-"
"Erza," he cut her off. He towered her now, the curtain pulled closed behind him, his face leaning down to near hers. "I need you to know that there isn't a single thing you're doing wrong," he urged. "Neither your actions nor lack of actions when it comes to taking care of the house or income," he clarified.
The shop assistant interrupted when she cleared her throat on the other side of the curtain. Jellal politely received what Erza now saw was a salmon-coloured dress before swinging the curtain shut again. She woman outside had been about to comment, most likely chide for him not to be in there as well, but gave up instead of voicing her concerns.
Erza's attention snapped back up to him, eyes big as his neared once more. He took her hands in his, holding them between them. The hanger dangled from his arm, disregarded.
"I hope you haven't been plagued by this for a long time; you know I told you I don't mind," he repeated. "I enjoy being the housewife and I like my job,"
"You can't be doing everything while I do nothing to help you," she pleaded but he slowly shook his head. His hectic subsided, leaving only the determined, unwavering devotion she had only just recounted minutes ago. Not to mention stubbornness, the way he brushed off the policies of the shop when directly confronted with them almost stunning her speechless. Almost.
"Erza, you're having a child," he emphasised.
"And I know you'd overtake that, too, if you could," she argued. He smiled. An unbalanced amalgam of amusement, agreement and sympathy dappled his eyes. She let hers clash with them, seeking whatever it was he tried to bring across, preparing to attack should it involve any self-loathing.
An unsuccessfully supressed sigh escaped his nose. His gaze softened, bordering her offensive territory should he overstep the line.
"So far," Jellal pursed his lips unhappily, "the only thing I've done is being a housewife. Not a husband," he said, "not in this regard," he glanced down to her midriff. Erza opened her mouth in protest, but his own stole a march on her, softly pressing to them. Her eyes rolled back when his tongue took the opportunity she so bluntly offered, her own repaying in kind without missing a beat. Her hand shot up to his hair, entangling in it, and the way he gently shifted down from heat to tenderness made her knees weak and her breathing stutter.
She heard him swallow. Opening her eyes, she met a gleaming sunset of regret. But at least it was a sunset, she thought to herself, smiling softly at his constant attempts; his never-ending struggle of becoming all that she wished for him to be, and that she knew would facilitate his life significantly.
"I'm sorry, Erza," Jellal broke the slight tension. His hands remained on her cheeks, cupping her face while her own only wound tighter around his neck. "The last thing I've been is a father, but I swear to you that I will, starting now, never stopping ever," he pledged, kissing her again. A whimpering breath escaped her, an affirmation.
"Then I promise you to be of more help," she returned, not accepting the negation that was about to come. "I know you don't mind but I do," she uncompromisingly stated. "I'm bothered by myself for not being there for you in any other way than an emotional one. I want to be able to care for you as wonderfully as you do for me," she declared. She kissed him again, just for good measure. Good measure and the sheer want of kissing him.
"We'll manage together," he whispered, and she adapted his smile.
"We always do," her forehead met his. A moment passed. And another. A comfortable silence stretched as they just breathed together. Erza did not notice until a minute later that there was still the hanger on his arm, the tip of it poking her ribs.
"Now, you didn't really hustle us in here to discuss this," she lowered her lids the second her eyes opened. He frowned. She smirked up at him where their noses still almost brushed the other. "You just really want to do it in a changing room," she flicked the dress on his arm mockingly. His face flamed up within an instant.
"What? No," he shook his head repeatedly, making her laugh, "no, Erza!" He chided, but his smile returned alongside that adorable scratching of the back of his neck. She pecked his cheek, passing him on the way out. She halted when he pursued, his held-out arm blocking her way. "I do want to see you in this," he held up the hanger, "because I know you'll make it look even better than the model," he raised a brow. So did she.
Turning to face him, she eyed the dress where he held it up. A summer dress. A salmon-pink summer dress with short butterfly sleeves and a loose skirt that reached until just above her knees. Glancing from him to the dress, she noticed nothing out of the ordinary. It was lovely, but she knew she would not be able to wear it, at least not for long – and only if her stomach still fit in now.
"Go on," Jellal wiggled the hanger, letting the fabric flounce. She shook her head.
"You know I can't wear this for long," she said, reaching out a hand anyway when he would not let up. Her own clothes glowed, leaving her in her underwear, and she fleetly, unheedingly pushed the dress over her head. Her hands stopped where they had been on their way to brush or rather pull it down. Pull it over the bulge of her stomach. It was not necessary. She spun to regard her reflection.
It was not a size bigger, or several. It hugged her waist like any of her own dresses would, tightly drawing along the curves of her hips. Tight, all except for the sagging pouch where her stomach had more space than it needed.
"You'll have to grow into it, of course," Jellal nodded matter-of-factly. As if inheriting a pair of boots to a child, years of growing in mind. He grinned over her shoulder. Her eyes flashed up to his face in the mirror, realisation dawning on her. How in the world had she not seen the mannequin to have been wearing maternity fashion? She must have been too caught up in their previous topic to notice.
Another notion then hit. She turned her head to meet his with amusement twinkling eyes. Her own sparkled with a love too great to express in words alone. So she kissed him.
"Now don't see this as an invitation to raid the entire shop," Jellal playfully scolded once she released him. With her lips, that was, not with the palm on his jaw, unable to let go just yet.
He had actually gone into a maternity clothes shop. Of his own accord. No rue, no fear, no pressure by anyone else, but of his own free will. His good-humoured, relaxed and affectionate free will.
"I love you so much," was all she managed. He chuckled. Another kiss, another pressing of her hand on his face, pressing it to hers.
His gaze wandered to their reflection again. Cheek to cheek, they watched themselves. Erza almost shivered when a tentative hand felt its way down her side, hesitating but eventually daring to cup her belly within its spacy bag.
"I want to make dumplings again," he said out of the blue. "I don't want them to be connotated negatively; I want to get rid of any associations I have with my own stupidity,"
"It's not stupidity," Erza gently caressed his cheek.
"Fear then," he honestly admitted. A small sigh escaped him.
"We're going to need a kitchen for that," Erza switched back to the topic, noting his shoulders to ease slightly upon that. "I was hoping we could rent a small apartment or so; some vacation hut where you could, I don't know," she cunningly twirled a strand of his hair around her finger, "prepare yoghurt lemon creme with mint…?" She threw him an innocent grin. He took her hand then, kissing her knuckles, the tips of her fingers, her palm and finally the heel of her thumb. Her teasing smirk softened into a smile, and she met equally gentle eyes from below.
"Anything for you," he leaned in for a kiss, "my love," he murmured. She hummed gladly once his lips descended on hers.
"Uhm, excuse me," a female voice pulled them out of their love-drunken haze. "Do you need any more help with the dress?" The assistant awkwardly asked. "I could get you one in a different size…" she offered from where she either spoke very quietly or stood as far away from the curtain as she could while still being heard. Or both.
"We'll take it," Jellal announced, shushing any protests of his wife with another peck to her lips. "It's perfect," he smiled charmingly, then left her to change back.
The bell atop the door rang as they left. Stepping out onto the sun-bathed pavement, Erza's smile was impregnable.
"Whatever happened to saving up?" She remembered, gladly linking her arm with his. She enjoyed the rustling sound of the bag when accidentally nudging against it, not minding in the slightest. She preferred carrying shopping bags over storing everything away immediately. It was a reminder of her newest acquisitions. Jellal transferred it to his other hand anyway, where it would not bother her.
"We're on holiday," he decided, "and you're going to need new clothes at some point," he shrugged. He planted another kiss to her temple, making both stumble slightly. "Let's find that library and then ask if there are any accommodations with a private kitchen,"
"I wouldn't mind bragging with your skills to other guests," she wiggled a brow.
"You'd have to share your desserts then,"
"Private it is," she firmly stated, and he laughed.