Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Alright! This is the notice, a month and week in advance for Gajeel x Lucy Week. It will be February 17th to the 23rd. I hoping that this year’s turn out, whether writing or reading, is big.

Also, note update. My previous GaLu year’s there was a hidden story in them all. And I will be sometime over the month of February taking the one-shots and posting them as a singular story!

Day 1: antidisestablishmentarianism (noun)

opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established church, especially the Anglican Church in 19th-century England.

Day 2: unity (noun)

the state of being united or joined as a whole.

Day 3: Lackadaisical (adjective)

lacking enthusiasm and determination; carelessly lazy.

Day 4: Ogre (noun)

a cruel or terrifying person.

Day 5: Esophagogastroduodenoscopy (noun)

A procedure that enables the examiner (usually a gastroenterologist) to examine the esophagus (the swallowing tube), stomach, and duodenum (the first portion of small bowel) using a thin flexible tube (a "scope") that can be looked through or seen on a TV monitor.

Day 6: Lamp (noun)

a device for giving light, either one consisting of an electric bulb together with its holder and shade or cover, or one burning gas or liquid fuel and consisting of a wick or mantle and a glass shade.

Day 7: Aesthetic (adjective)

concerned with beauty or the appreciation of beauty.

Day 8:  Grandoise (adjective)

excessively grand or ambitious

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Day 1: antidisestablishmentarianism (noun) - opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established church, especially the Anglican Church in 19th-century England.

Gajeel sat there at his desk staring at the piece of paper. There was no way he couldn't have known this was coming. But, the fact, that it came so damn soon was bad, very bad. It gave him little to no time to do what he needed to. Lifting his eyes up to look at his longtime friend and partner who helped him set up this place. They'd both been orphans and been given over to the  Church as their parents were devout members. Thus being in the church-run, state-funded, orphanage.

Their lives had been good. And the Priest and Nuns had been nothing but good to him, Pantherlily and all the other children. Of which, there was a ton. At some point, he'd sunk to the depth of depravity in Humanity. Almost losing his best friend before he had been pulled back from the edge of oblivion and turned his life around. Almost dying of blood loss mixed with an overdose of Angel Dust infused Heroine. It led to loads of rehab for the drugs and physical therapy to walk again.

"It finally came, huh?" Lily asked.

Slowly he nodded his head and dropped the paper onto the 16th-century oak desk. Running his hands down his face, then through his long, shaggy black hair,  Gajeel kept himself from screaming in frustration.

"I... We have a month at the most to relocate all the kids to 'group' homes, or find someone who will fund our orphanage," he growled as he closed his red eyes.

The soft hum from Lily was all he needed to hear. There was little time and over eighty kids. And the Church itself was not big, old, not big. The congregation over the years had dwindled. Not many people wanted to adopt children that were older than two years of age, or if he could push it three. Everyone wanted a baby, brand new. High demand. As if they were a hot commodity. It sickened him. The kids were the future of their society. No matter the damn age.

"Well, want me to make some calls? Prepare just in case to rehome them?" Lily asked.

Groaning as he fought back the tears that were suddenly burning under his eyelids. Then Gajeel nodded his head, yes, their safety and security was his first priority.

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Day 2: unity (noun) - the state of being united or joined as a whole.

Eyes were narrowed as she ducked into the old, yet small, gothic appearing church. She was not happy. This was just not. Her. Day.  It had taken a lot of planning to escape from her father and the man he was intent on marrying her off to. And Lucy would not marry that man. She didn't even like him or his father. Both made her feel dirty as if she was some slut on the street corner who had not bathed in a month. Then again, said people that her father wanted connections with were said to be related to the throne and had a connection to the militia.

But, anyone with a damn brain knew that this particular family was devious. And insidious evil that would take and use, never giving as they promised. Unless it was the throne that commanded it. And here she was a minor nobles daughter. There was no say for her. It was not the middle ages, but dammit, she would not be a piece of bargaining. Hell, her fathers 'fortune' was not even his. It had been her mothers. All the land around their home, the people... everything technically belonged to Lucy. And it was her dumb luck that she was more than of marriage age.

"Hello, Miss, can the church help you today?"

At the soft, deep voice, Lucy spun around and looked up at a tall dark-skinned man (Lily for this is human) whose black eyes seemed to gauge her. Right now, she wore a cloak and hood to hide her face and hair. Only the women of the Heartfilia family would have pale, sun-colored hair, fair complexion. Making her easily recognizable. And to run and hide from her father and that... man.... and his son... She would roll in the filth of the streets where it was used as toilets by the homeless. Another thing she was pissed about. This had been a recent thing in the last ten years since her mother's death.

"Oh.. Sorry, I uh..." She said not wanting to lie but not wanting to tell the truth.

"I understand. Please, come this way and let me give you some food and warm wine," the man spoke, his lips quirking up in a smile.

Mentally she cursed. She knew that smile and the glint that was in those black eyes. He recognized her. It was not a hidden fact that her father was trying to marry her to the son of Duke Brain Reflese's Son Macbeth. But, something in her told her that she could trust this man. And standing up she followed him through a few doors and down a couple of halls. Her ears hearing the sounds of children laughing and talking. Which set her at ease.

Eventually, they entered into a small private kitchen, where several older kids were at the stoves, counters, and sink cooking or cleaning. It was well organized and they looked happy. Then it hit Lucy which church she had run into St. Agatha's Anglican Church. Making her flinch visibly. Her father had sent out a missive a week ago about taking all funds from those churches. Churches her mother had been charitable to.

"I... I am so sorry," She blurted out, her voice shaking at the shame she felt for her father's actions.

When the man looked at her, she nibbled at her bottom lip. He smiled and shook his head and pointed to a small table tucked back int the corner off to the side of a large stone fireplace. Nodding she made her way over to it and sat down. Letting her head drop so that her chin rested on her collar bone. This was just her luck.

"Miss, I won't judge. It is apparent you are repentant for what has happened. That it was not a choice you made, clearly," the man said as he put a plate of food and the cup of warmed wine before her.

Lifting her head up and watched as the man sat across from her. Lucy still felt horrid for what was happening. There were not a lot of group homes left, and the foster parents that could or would take the kids, she knew were not sanctioned. Meaning they wanted the money and would abuse the children.

On a whim, a determination in her eyes, Lucy spoke, "What can I do to help? This is wrong. And I don't want to see a church that helps those that need it. Especially children, take a blow like this."

The way the man blinked before he smiled widely, showing even white teeth in his mouth as he leaned forward. Something told Lucy they'd be having a long talk. Because she was serious. And it would help keep her mind off her pending nuptial contract. And she'd rather be a nun (still a virgin) instead of a pretty trophy to a man who'd probably hurt her was preferable.

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Day 3: Lackadaisical (adjective) - lacking enthusiasm and determination; carelessly lazy.

Gajeel only stared at the pretty little blond before him. He knew exactly who she was. Everyone would. Only a certain Matriarch run Noble family could look like that. And he had seen her when they were both children, at this very orphanage, when her mother had come to make a contribution. Now, he was unsure if this girl would be the same as her mother. Genuine and helpful.

And the way she stared back at him in a dubious manner showed clearly that she felt the same. Then again, while not a man of the cloth like Lily, he had long, mostly unkempt hair, piercings all over his body that was visible. Which if she was judging him based on appearance the shallow little miss could just fucking leave his office. He'd not deal with someone who couldn't see what was on the inside of a person.

"Did all those piercing hurt?"

Blinking as he stared blankly at the girl. Taken back by not just the question, but the honest curiosity behind it. Making Gajeel take a good long look at her. She held a lot of intelligence in those brown eyes of hers. That and there was a fascination shining from behind those guarded brown orbs as she studied him. Maybe she wasn't as brainless as he thought. Still, he felt no energy about dealing with her.

"Some," he answered, offering nothing else.

Just to see her give an amused smile as a blond eyebrow arched up on her face. Gajeel didn’t have to ask to know what she was thinking. And frankly he could really care less. His only interest was in the children and orphanage.

“Well, why don’t we quit beating feet and being lazy,” she said to him in a knowing manner. “Because Lily assured me you were not a lazy idiot with no drive. My father is being consumed by power that will never be given to him and you are paying the price. I want to help you and everyone here out.”

His mind processed what she said quickly. Hearing the pain in her voice at the actions her father had taken. Not showing anything outwardly, continuing with his facade of not caring, Gajeel yawned and looked utterly bored at her, while lifting a hand to prompt her to continue speaking.

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Day 4: Ogre (noun) - a cruel or terrifying person.

Lucy had read a lot of books throughout the course of her seventeen years of life. Loads of fantasy books at that. And the man before her, with his 'one' word answers, looked like an ogre depicted in one of her books. She'd say troll, but those lived under the bridge and feared sunlight. This man, he was tanned, was not a troll. Though he looked cruel, she made the logical leap that since he was running an orphanage out of the church, that he was a nice man.

Appearances aside. Sitting up a bit straighter, Lucy decided to just get to the point. The point her and Pantherlily had talked about a few days prior, while Gajeel was out trying to find funding for the church. Which from the way he had stormed in, grumbling loudly and not noticing her sitting there, had gone very badly. Again making her think that he was an ogre.

"Let's cut to the chase. I have been talking with Pantherlily. And I think we came to something that is mutually beneficial to both of us," she stated bluntly.

When he stiffened and narrowed his carmine colored eyes, Lucy did the same, lifting an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, his voice showing how leery he was of anything she could be offering.

And he was right to be that way. It wasn't the best idea. But if he agreed to this contract, which would be more preferable to her other than she was Scott free, they got their funding, and her father could shove it.

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Day 5: Esophagogastroduodenoscopy (noun) - A procedure that enables the examiner (usually a gastroenterologist) to examine the esophagus (the swallowing tube), stomach, and duodenum (the first portion of small bowel) using a thin flexible tube (a "scope") that can be looked through or seen on a TV monitor.

Gajeel flinched as he listened to Lucy describe in very graphic detail what she wanted to do to not just her father, but Duke Reflese. He was actually rather impressed with how dark and vindictive such a bright and perky appearing woman could be. And since he had listened to her proposal, almost rejecting it instantly. They'd agreed to wait three days for him to think over it all.

But they say the best-laid plans never worked. So, why the hell should a random shot in the dark that was mutually beneficial work? And it was proven when a missive was sent out, both in paper form and vocal, that if no one would turn his daughter over, that Viscount Heartfilia would raze the village. The man was serious since he had offered Lucy to the Dark Duke's son for his own personal gain.

"I do not ever want to get on your bad side. I mean seriously, shoving something like willowy wire down a person's throat, damn you are vicious," He muttered as Lucy finally quieted.

The way her eyes brightened as she smiled at him had Gajeel. Again he shivered. Having run with gangs, done things, seen things that were fucking scary. At this moment they had nothing on the girl before him. Once more his rational mind warred with his irrational mind about agreeing to this whole thing.

"That is tame... trust me..." Lucy said cackling.

He watched as she stood up and began to pace. Waiting on the postman to bring a reply from someone Lucy was sure would help them. Though who this person that could help them. Sanction this whole damn deal with the she-devil in his office was, Gajeel could only speculate at.

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Day 6: Lamp (noun) - a device for giving light, either one consisting of an electric bulb together with its holder and shade or cover, or one burning gas or liquid fuel and consisting of a wick or mantle and a glass shade.

Lucy was giddy. Bouncing from foot to foot. The reply had been favorable. Now, now they were waiting for the person appointed to do the ceremony. In a matter of days, she Heir the Heartfilia Lands and fortunes, Lucy Eugenia Heartfilia, would be married. And until that time, as was the tradition of her family, she was not to see her 'future' husband to be.

The flickering flame of the oil lamp in the room was not helping her at all. She had grown to like Gajeel. He looked like a big, bad, scary Ogre. But he was a major softy. Especially where the kids under his care were concerned. And that he was fighting her father in his own way, with her help now, to keep the state funds in the churches.

It pained her to see how much he had changed in the years after her mother's sudden death. A death, Lucy was sure was a murder. Her family lands were well sought after. And she was well aware of the many marriage proposals she had been getting since she was five and made her first public appearance. Looking exactly like her mother, down to her beauty mark just above her left hip. It was scary. Then again, in the dim light of candles, torches, and other such things, Lucy had read the secret family records. Records her father couldn't ever access.

Magic didn't exist, but then again, one of her female ancestors had been part of a group of Masons. And it was coded that you had to do certain things to open the vault. Things no one that wasn't taught from the moment they could walk could do. The number of records, in the shape of scrolls, documents, text, and various other things chronicled all the way back to the first founding King and Queen of their Kingdom. It held information on every damn Noble family. Major and minor.

Her family was really the royal archivist. With a grin as she looked at the small flame of her oil lamp flicker again, growing dimmer, Lucy knew it was time to go to sleep. Not that she'd be able to.

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Day 7: Aesthetic (adjective) - concerned with beauty or the appreciation of beauty.

He appreciated beauty of all kinds. And the man standing at the altar with him was beautiful. Though with his long, flowing green hair held no candle to the woman that stood before him. Her tiny hands in his as the man spoke the vows. And well, Gajeel had been stunned with the carriage bearing the royal crest of the King, it had thrown him for a major loop. Out stepped the priest who was officiating and the Princess herself.

He'd have to get it from Lucy how the hell she knew the Princess? or if she didn't know the Princess personally, how she convinced her with a letter to do this. Either way, as he let his red gaze look down on the tiny, curvy blond, he felt heat rush through his veins. The pale cream and white lace dress that she wore hugged every curve of her body. As if it had been made for her and her alone.

"Do you Lucy Heartfilia take Gajeel... no surname, as your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked.

"I do," her voice rang out in the church, as angry, smother grunts followed.

"And do you Gajeel, no surname, take Lucy Eugenia Heartfilia, as your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked him.

Swallowing as his tongue suddenly felt thick in his mouth. "I Do."

Then, by the power vested in me by God, the church, and His Majesty Toma, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," the priest said.

He didn't have to look to know that the man was smiling in amusement as Gajeel felt like a nervous, awkward teen, kissing a girl for the first time again. And the way those brown eyes were shifting around, he knew she felt the same as well. Leaning down, hoping not to fuck it up, he kissed his new, very gorgeous, wife. Just to feel her stiffen then melt into it. As all around them the children screamed and yelled.

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Day 8:  Grandiose (adjective) - excessively grand or ambitious.

Reactions were pretty much the same from everyone in the crowd. Though, one person wasn't affected by all the opulence that they were seeing. This was the place they grew up in partially when their mother was still around. And she knew this ballroom was the smaller of three and the least fancy. Still, this was a treat for those gathered. Something they'd never have gotten a chance to visit and see.

"I think you may have broken your new husband, Lucy."

Smiling and turning to her cousin, Princess Hisui, Lucy winked as she reached out an arm and threaded it through his. Causing him to look at her in shock. Then to enjoy the flush on his tanned skin as he realized that the Princess herself was looking at him and trying not to laugh at his reaction.

"My home is your home now Gajeel Heartfilia. And I will personally make sure that law Jude put out is redacted. My auntie really loved that church. Took Lucy there whenever she could," Princess Hisui spoke.

Causing Gajeel to jerk a bit before glancing down at his new wife, Lucy. A woman who was a person of her word. She had saved every last kid that was there with them, enjoying the festivities that was their reception at the Castle itself. He hadn't figured that Lucy would be directly related to the crown.

"Ah, there you are Lady Lucy!"

All three turned to look at who had spoken. Seeing the tall Green Haired priest who had officiated the simple ceremony. The way his blue eyes danced from beneath his green hair spoke of mischief.

"Yes, Freed?" Lucy asked.

"Since your husband is a bit stunned, may I have this dance?" he asked, holding out a hand.

This had several people laughing as Lucy was suddenly walked out and swung in a large arch before being snapped back to her husband. There was no missing the slight possessive look on his face as he danced with her.

"Well, you think, that Layla is happy?" Freed asked Hisui.

"Yes. And I am glad I didn't have to interfere to get them married," Hisui replied. "Because Gajeel still has the right to his lands. His father was a Marquis. We thought he was dead as well. They've been engaged for almost their whole lives and never knew it."

A soft chuckle came from Freed as he nudged his half-sister. "Yeah, Layla loved to have such elaborate, grandiose plans laid out. Now, I think we can finally get her killer put away. As well as Gajeels parents."

The two smiled as they fell silent, watching the couple dance. It had only been a month since they'd met. But it was obvious that there was respect and trust there. As well as the start of love with the way the two were staring in each other's eyes as if there was no one else in the room but them. It was a fitting end to a tragic tale.