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“Captain.” Emery’s voice was strong and sure as they stopped in front of Gajeel’s desk and stood to attention. Gajeel had a desk now, and a chair too, courtesy of Emery and the form they’d had him fill out last week. “This is a requisition form,” they’d said, their expression blank aside from one half-cocked eyebrow. “Fill it in. File it with Sjur downstairs. Get some furniture. I can’t sit on the floor any longer.”
Next to Gajeel, on his side of the desk, was a straight-backed wooden chair. That was Levy’s spot, where she sat to work on whatever admin came her way in their rare downtime. More often, she was called out to support the records office or else to meet with Jura or Warrod directly as they rebuilt the Council library, but Gajeel made sure to keep a spot clear on his desk just in case.
As well as his desk and chair, there was a less formal seating arrangement by the windows and a table that was big enough for the whole team to crowd around when needed. It was a pretty cushy setup, especially since they spent most of their time busy elsewhere.
Today was a rare quiet day and Gajeel had been idly reading through Carrick’s report on a low-stakes bar brawl when Emery’s panther-soft footsteps had signalled their arrival.
“Hey, need something?” Gajeel replied, kicking his feet off his desk and setting down the report.
“Indeed,” they declared, their voice never shifting from their typical clipped professionalism. “My wife has been asking when you and Levy are coming over for tea.” A wry smile curled their lips. “I have no memory of an invitation being issued but she is very sure you agreed to a visit.”
An invitation from Suzannah? Why did that sound familiar?
“Perhaps when all this is done with you both could come over for tea and cake. I make a mean lemon drizzle.”
“Uh… Sure?”
“Damnit,” Gajeel muttered as the memory resurfaced.
“You really did agree to afternoon tea?” Emery asked, amusement colouring their tone and their posture softening ever so slightly. There was a subtle shine in their eyes that only surfaced when Suzannah came up in conversation. “I know she’s persuasive but you don’t seem the type.”
“What the hell was I meant to say?” Gajeel griped, propping his chin on his fist and frowning. “You were passed out in hospital when she asked, I wasn’t about to tell her no when you were half dead already. Figured she’d forget.”
“She never forgets,” Emery sighed fondly. They picked a scrap of paper off Gajeel’s desk and jotted down an address. “Twelve o clock on Saturday, bring flowers, come hungry.”
Their tone brooked no argument and no excuses, so Gajeel gave neither. Besides, Levy would probably have fun catching up with Suzannah. Now he just needed to find flowers.
-
Thanks to Levy’s impeccable timekeeping, it was twelve o clock on the dot when Gajeel knocked on the door to Emery and Suzannah’s mid-terrace townhouse. It wasn’t at all the kind of place he’d expected them to live – a busy neighbourhood close to the warehouse district with lots of foot traffic and no garden. Suzannah seemed like she’d enjoy tending a garden.
“I’m so excited to see her,” Levy whispered as they waited for the door to open. He couldn’t help but return her smile, but resisted taking her fidgeting hands as she smoothed down the front of her new dress nervously. Before they left the cottage, she’d asked if she looked okay. Maybe he should’ve been more emphatic because she still looked a little self-conscious, but he’d been so awestruck by the sight of her that no words would come. He’d just nodded. Nodded.
The problem was, Levy was so damn beautiful that it drove every other thought from his head. Maybe he should practice some lines so he’d be ready next time she asked.
Her dress was pale pink with roses a shade darker printed all over. The fabric was as floaty as any of her summer dresses and the hemline ended above her knees, but she’d paired it with thick tights, tall boots, and a chunky-knit brown cardigan to keep her warm against the late-autumn weather. She had a mulberry ribbon in her hair and a flush to her cheeks from the walk over here.
Devastating.
Gajeel took a deep breath and caught her hand as she started fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve.
“Quit worrying,” he said, trying his best to sound reassuring. “You… look beautiful.” He squeezed her fingers gently and let go as he heard Emery’s near-silent footsteps approaching the door. Okay, so his compliment came out as more of an awkward mumble and the timing was bad because now they were both blushing as the door opened, but still. He’d said it. And she’d stopped fidgeting.
The door swung open and Emery stood in the entryway in a ruffled shirt with a loose bow at the collar and sharply pressed slacks, both in darkest black. Seeing them dressed up made Gajeel feel better about the button-up he’d changed into after seeing Levy’s outfit.
Emery’s shrewd gaze raked over both Gajeel and Levy, pausing on Gajeel’s reddened ears and Levy’s caught-out expression.
“Welcome.” Their voice was the impossible combination of dry as autumn leaves and warmly welcoming, and they stepped back to grant access to the house.
Immediately, the smell of baked goods set Gajeel’s mouth watering. It was sweet and savoury in turn, warm autumnal spices warring with zesty citrus, savoury cheese overlaid with berry sweetness. He wasn’t sure how much distinction Levy’s human nose would pick up but this was a buffet for his senses already and they were barely through the door.
“Yum, smells great in here!” Levy said cheerfully. Most of the awkwardness of outside was fading in the face of baked goods and Gajeel was grateful for it.
“Uh… we brought flowers,” he said, as though Emery could’ve missed the posey of sunflowers and yellow roses he and Levy had picked out on the walk over.
“For Suzannah, the host, yes,” Emery agreed with a conspiratorial smile. They dropped their voice as they took Levy’s cardigan and bag and hung both by the door. “Good etiquette. Trust.”
The host in question glided into the entryway with a beaming smile and arms outstretched.
“Levy! Gajeel!” Suzannah’s maternal voice was like a balm over any lingering discomfort Gajeel might have felt over being in an unfamiliar house to socialise for an unspecified amount of time. Emery’s welcome had been sincere, but Suzannah’s was all-encompassing, as warm as the hugs she pulled each of them into. “Please make yourselves at home.”
“Thank you very much for the invitation,” Levy replied, smiling her most dazzling smile and turning to Gajeel. Guess that was his cue.
“We brought these,” he said, holding out the roses to Suzannah and feeling a little smug at her thrilled reaction. “Thanks for having us.” Over her head, Emery gave him a single approving nod. He felt like a child barely passing some kinda mystery test.
“Gajeel! These are so beautiful, thank you!” Suzannah admired the flowers, the bright tones setting off the warmth of her rich brown skin and amber eyes. The colour of the sunflowers matched almost perfectly with the full-skirted dress she wore, one that narrowed at her waist and flared at her wide hips. Tucked into the sleek curls of her dark shoulder length hair was a hairpin in the shape of a shining gold lizard.
The crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes crinkled as she smiled over the flowers and Gajeel glanced to Emery. Emery, who even out of their armour stood at Suzannah’s side like her own personal knight, ready to kneel at her feet and pledge their life. Seeing her here, so clearly in her element and dressed for the occasion, filled in a little more of the puzzle of why Emery was the way they were. They’d do anything to protect this peace for her.
And somehow, Gajeel realised as he was ushered further into the house, these two had also adopted Levy into their little family.
Oh, fuck.
Gajeel was having afternoon tea with his adopted-almost-hopefully future in-laws today.
He was suddenly very glad he’d changed into his nice shirt.
“Please feel free to settle in the dining room,” Suzannah instructed them politely as Emery led them on. “I’ll set the water boiling and be through in a moment.”
As soon as Gajeel set foot in the dining room, the riddle of the odd, out of character house solved itself in his brain. There was no personality. It was beautiful in a cold kind of way; the walls painted a neutral off-white with pale furniture and white drapes drawn back to reveal the paved courtyard out the back. There was a white lace table runner over the wooden tabletop, but that was the only customisation. With a subtle breath through his nose, Gajeel scented the air. There was barely any of Suzannah’s spiced bread scent in this room.
“Do you need any help?” Levy asked Suzannah eagerly.
“Oh no, sweetheart.” The rebuttal was kind but firm. “You’re welcome to keep me company though, if you’d like.”
The two of them headed off towards the kitchen and Gajeel found himself abruptly alone with Emery.
“New decoy, huh?” Gajeel asked, gesturing around at the neutral room. Their previous decoy apartment had been blown up by an enemy of the Council who didn’t give a damn about collateral damage or innocent lives.
“New decoy,” Emery confirmed with an impressed nod. “What gave it away?”
“Can’t imagine Suzannah having a house this boring,” Gajeel said with a shrug. “And smell’s all wrong.”
They hummed consideringly. “You’re right, her parlour at home is beautiful and colourful.” Gajeel knew she’d have a parlour. “We’ll make the house more convincing in time, we only bought it last weekend.” Out of the pocket of their straight-legged slacks, they pulled a brass key and handed it over to Gajeel. “There’s a saferoom in the basement if you ever need it. Do not come here otherwise.”
Gajeel held the key in the palm of his hand, a tiny thing to carry such significance. Emery had kept their last decoy a secret from everyone until after it was blown up, only listing it as their place of residence in their Magic Council employee file. He would’ve called it paranoid if it hadn’t saved Suzannah’s life. And now they were willingly sharing this safe haven in case of emergency.
With the key in hand, it felt less like Emery and Suzannah were Gajeel’s almost future in-laws and more like they’d adopted him, too.
-
Levy looked around the quaint kitchen, gaping at the platters and trays of baked goods ready to be bussed into the dining room. The smell in the kitchen was divine and her mouth watered in anticipation. She’d expected afternoon tea – maybe a slice of cake with a cup of tea to catch up over. This was an incredible feat and Suzannah didn’t even seem to realise it.
“It’s so great to see you both again,” Suzannah said as she filled up the kettle and set it to boil on the stove. “And under more pleasant circumstances.”
“Yes, this is much nicer,” Levy agreed with a laugh. The last time they’d seen each other, they’d been leaving a dark guild’s lair and heading to hospital with most of the team dead on their feet. “Thank you for your help, I’m so glad we had backup.”
“I’m glad, too.” Suzannah pulled a pair of teapots from a box on the table and measured loose tea leaves into each. “Earl grey in the orange, white peony in the white, easy,” she murmured to herself. “It was quite exciting, really.” She gave Levy a conspiratorial grin. “I always knew life with Emery would be interesting but I never expected to lead Rune Knights into a secret underground lair.”
“How did you two meet?” Levy asked, feeling a little useless as she watched the master of homemaking at work.
“Ah, I’m afraid it’s not a cheerful story, hon,” Suzannah warned with a sad smile as she bustled around adding a few finishing touches and garnishes to the spread. “The ‘happily ever after’ has been a joy so far, but the journey wasn’t easy.”
“I’d still like to hear, if you’re comfortable sharing.”
“Of course. You see, when I was eighteen, I was kidnapped.” Suzannah delivered the news of her trauma as one might comment on the weather or a new haircut and Levy stumbled to keep up whilst also keeping the horror from her expression. “It’s alright. Remember there’s a happy ending. How much do you know about Scryers?”
“U-um, a little,” Levy stammered, thinking back to the first lesson Emery taught her. “Twenty years ago, they were outlawed because of privacy concerns, and no new Scryers were allowed. There was a lot of misinformation about how the power can be used but then new information was published after extensive research.”
“That’s right,” Suzannah agreed with a light bob of her head. Her hand was steady as she piped whipped cream rosettes onto a plate of tiny berry tarts. Once she’d finished, she set her piping bag down and gave Levy a long look. “Research needs subjects but without the correct supervisions, those subjects were often recruited unethically or without consent. Lots of Scryers, primarily children, were removed from their homes and taken to research centres.” Her eyes tightened for a brief moment before she collected herself and smiled again.
“I was the only Scryer in my family at the time. My grandmother and great-grandmother had the gift, it skipped my mother and my siblings and came only to me. I never saw them again after I was taken.” She waved her hand casually at Levy’s sympathetic noise. “I like to believe they’re still out there somewhere but the enforcers who came were not gentle; it’s possible they were killed. Emery’s family was.” At Emery’s name, Suzannah’s shoulders relaxed and she began her preparations again, adding basil leaves to the top of mini quiches.
“I met Emery on my first day at the Cassandra Centre.” Her voice was otherwise cheerful, but the temperature of the room chilled as though the name alone carried ghosts. “I was terrified, sick with grief and fear. When we were lined up and escorted to the canteen, I couldn’t eat. Emery sat right beside me, told me I wouldn’t get another chance to eat for a while and I’d be stupid to miss the opportunity. They’re a little older than me and they’d already been at Cassandra for six years.
“They stuck close after that, taught me how to survive at Cassandra. It was brutal. The cruelty cannot be overstated. But we survived and escaped. Not all of us, but most of us.”
Levy let all of the information from Suzannah’s story sink in, her heart beating hard enough that she was certain Gajeel would hear it from the other room. The horrors her friends must have lived through… A thought struck her and she felt her eyes narrow ever so slightly.
“You have questions,” Suzannah observed, taking the kettle from the hob as it started to whistle and filling the teapots with boiling water.
“Sorry,” Levy apologised.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not delicate.” Suzannah giggled and it felt like a miracle after all she’d been through. “Go ahead and ask.”
“You said you inherited the magic,” Levy pondered aloud. “How is it possible to outlaw a power that can be passed on genetically?”
There was a beat of silence during which Suzannah set the kettle down and sighed.
“You find a way to keep the carriers from passing it on genetically,” she explained, eyes focussed on the lids of the teapots. She turned a little egg timer over on the tray beside them. “Every resident at Cassandra was forcibly sterilised once the decision was made.”
“Oh,” Levy whispered uselessly, her heart leaden as she thought of all those lives ruined over and over again. That Suzannah was here was a miracle, that she continued to smile felt like an impossibility. But here she was, an apologetic smile on her face.
“I’m sorry, darling, it’s a little heavy for a Saturday afternoon, but it’s important we hold those in charge accountable and never forget the power they wield.” She stepped over and took Levy’s hands with a reassuring squeeze. “The man responsible for the atrocities at Cassandra sat on the Magic Council at the time. His work wasn’t officially sanctioned but the Council benefited all the same. Even now, the surviving Scryers are kept on a tight leash. Emery’s position buys us a little leeway, and leniency in how they work. It’s useful, you see, for the Council to have a Scryer available to them.”
“What happened to the Councillor in charge?” A terrible part of Levy hoped he died in agony after the recent explosion.
“He’s dead,” Emery’s cold voice came from the doorway, their face more blank than Levy had ever seen it. “He was killed when Cassandra fell. A stray bolt. Tragic.” Their tone left no doubt in Levy’s mind that Emery themself had killed that man, and that they felt absolutely no remorse for it. “Okay?” They asked Suzannah.
“Yes,” Suzannah confirmed. She stroked Levy’s cheek with a soft hand and a sad smile. “Our life is wonderful now. We get to focus on living not just surviving, and helping whoever we can do the same.” After a last little pat to Levy’s hands, Suzannah picked up the tea tray and handed it to Levy. “Since you’re both here, you can help me carry everything through.”
Levy took the tray automatically and headed back through to the dining room. As she passed Emery, they set one hand on her shoulder and gave her a searching look. Levy didn’t know what they were looking for or if they found it, but they gave her a tiny nod and a twitch of a smile before moving to kiss Suzannah’s cheek.
The need to be back by Gajeel’s side urged Levy onwards, and she left Emery and Suzannah murmuring warmly to one another in the kitchen.
-
After an incredibly satisfying meal of Suzannah’s delights, including savoury scones with homemade butter, herby mini quiches, little berry pastries, perfectly square fondant fancies, and her famous lemon drizzle cake, the party adjourned to the sitting room. The conversation whilst they ate had been much more light-hearted and Levy was grateful for it. She would never regret learning about Emery and Suzannah’s history but it was the kind of story that required processing time.
Suzannah set an arrangement of tiny marzipan fruits on the coffee table and Levy wondered if she would ever need to eat again after today.
The cushions of the small couch she and Gajeel had gravitated towards were soft and squishy, the perfect place to fall into an accidental afternoon nap. Levy forced her eyes to stay open despite the food coma pulling her in.
“Now that we’re all fed,” Suzannah said, taking her seat in an armchair by the fire. “We have something to ask you both.”
“Oh?” Levy squeaked, exchanging a nervous glance with her Dragon Slayer.
“It’s about the girl from Shadow Spectre, Cordelia,” Suzannah continued with an assessing look between them.
“Oh yeah?” Gajeel said hesitantly. “What about her?”
“She’s still in the holding cells,” Emery explained matter-of-factly, standing by the mantel. Their posture was perfect and their tone was professional, as though this were an official work meeting rather than a tea party in their own home. “It was intended as a temporary arrangement but she’s been there for forty-six days.”
“Damnit.” Gajeel ran a hand over his face before leaning back in his seat and spreading his arms along the back of the sofa. The tips of his fingers grazed across the ends of Levy’s hair. “Why the hell was she there in the first place? She helped us.”
“She did,” Emery agreed with a mildly judgemental raise of an eyebrow. “Typically, an informant might be granted leniency if a Captain advocates for them.”
“Fucking hell.” It was only a whisper but Gajeel’s guilt was loud enough to fill the room. “But she’s just a kid!”
“She is.”
“That’s enough, love,” Suzannah interjected, laying a calming hand on Emery’s forearm and sitting forward. “I don’t think this is your fault, Gajeel,” she continued kindly. “It indicates a combined lack of experience at all levels of leadership.” Her hand raised in a placating gesture as Gajeel began to speak. “However, I do believe you can help make this right. I think we can all agree she shouldn’t be left there any longer.”
“I spoke with Jura Neekis about the girl,” Emery volunteered. “He admitted the Council didn’t know what to do with her. Her father’s condition renders him useless and she has no other family.”
“I met Cordelia briefly on that day,” Suzannah said, folding her hands in her lap. “I truly believe she’s a good child, a little misguided and will surely need a lot of support going forwards, but I don’t believe she’s inherently evil.”
“Agreed,” Gajeel muttered, his eyes shadowed. It was hard to tell what might be haunting him – the memory of Cordelia’s hopeless eyes, the juxtaposition of seeing her in that place, the horrors and monsters that surrounded her living space, or perhaps all of the above. Levy herself thought of the sadness that hovered around Cordelia as surely as her corona of glowing spores, the way the girl had winced when her father grabbed her and used her as a shield against the Custody Enforcement Unit. “She won’t hurt anyone. I’ve seen evil and that kid ain’t it.”
“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Suzannah sighed. She relaxed back into the cushions of the armchair and some of the formality of her bearing vanished. “I’m worried for her. There’s precedent for children in Cordelia’s situation to be fostered if there is no family left to care for them.”
“You wanna take her in?” Gajeel asked, sitting straighter.
“Yes, but…” Suzannah turned to Emery for help.
“The Council’s primary concern is the potential for mind control,” Emery explained. Their voice was steady and sure, the perfect partner to Suzannah’s softly optimistic maternalism. In that moment, Levy realised that these two might’ve been wonderful parents if granted the opportunity. “Testimony from a Captain may go further than my word. If you seek audience with the Council and explain how hesitant she was to use her powers, perhaps they will reconsider.”
“She didn’t want to control you?” Levy asked Gajeel gently. He sat forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and frowning.
“Nah, she wanted me to stop touching her,” Gajeel explained, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Then told me to move back. Can’t blame her, she was terrified.” He frowned and his eyes sharpened consideringly, flitting from Emery then to Levy. “I got another idea though. Cordy couldn’t control Vigil with her spores. He said something about a vaccine, remember?” He directed the question to Emery.
“Right,” Emery agreed with a slow nod then ran a hand down their face. “Damn.”
“It’s okay,” Suzannah said. She reached out to take Emery’s hand. “There was a lot going on. But maybe if we can find a vaccine…?”
“Even if it’s enough for you two, maybe the Council would think you can keep her in check.” Gajeel’s mouth twisted in distaste as he said it.
“It sounds as though she doesn’t like controlling people,” Levy interjected carefully. She didn’t remember as much about Cordelia as the rest of the group – she and Lily had been caught up in a different fight, and then Levy had been unconscious by the time Cordelia came to their aid again. “But if we can find the inoculation and prove its efficacy, maybe the Magic Council will agree to foster her. Gideon had a lab down there,” she added, looking to Gajeel. “Maybe we could find some mention of the inoculation there?”
“You wanna go back there?” He asked doubtfully, turning his body towards Levy and fixing her with a piercing stare.
“No,” Levy laughed. “But I will if it might help her. She’s just a child, Gajeel.”
He was silent for a moment but there was only one real answer. Within minutes, the decision was made and a plan was set in motion. Suzannah waved Gajeel and Levy off with a basket full of leftovers and a plate of kiwi tarts for Lily, then they stepped into the dimming afternoon light and headed home to gear up.
-
“That journey is way easier in daylight when you stick to the roads,” Levy laughed lightly. Gajeel heard the unease in it and wished he could’ve convinced her to stay at home. He’d tried as they both changed from their formalwear into more protective clothing and pulled on their sturdy boots, but she’d told him it was out of the question. There was no way she would’ve stayed behind and let him go on alone despite her obvious discomfort.
Now, they stood together at the top of the winch lift down into Shadow Spectre’s secret underground guildhall, surrounded by the rapidly dimming forest and the sounds of the pigs that lived within. The remains of Pinewood Pig and Truffle Farm were just as creepy as Gajeel remembered and he swore to the Gods he would never come back here after this.
“Stay close, ‘kay?” He instructed her, doing his best to keep the nerves out of his voice.
“Right by your side,” Levy teased him, following closely as he moved to call the winch lift up. It had been left down at the bottom of the shaft and a season’s worth of leaves had fallen into the hole. Sure enough, the lift moved an inch or so before stopping dead, the mechanism jammed with mulch and debris. “We can probably unjam it,” Levy mused, peering in through the darkness.
“Nah, come on.” He held out one arm towards her and called his shadows to the fore, letting his body transform just enough that he could see clearly down into the darkness. Levy stepped into his reach and he wrapped one arm around her waist, bringing her close. “I got ya. Hold tight,” he told her, his voice gravelly with the transformation. With a shiver at the cold evening air, Levy wound her arms around his neck and gripped tight to the collar of his dark coat. “Alright. Three, two, one!”
Even with the warning and the countdown, Levy yelped in surprise when he jumped into the lift shaft. Gravity took hold of them and within seconds, he was setting her back on her feet and allowing his shadows to dissipate.
“Damn, Shrimp. I got sensitive ears, y’know,” Gajeel griped, rubbing at the ear she’d shouted directly into and giving her a teasing grin. “Can’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
At Levy’s command, mage light filled the chamber and the lift shaft above, illuminating the damp red carpet and the unlit lanterns around the perimeter. Underfoot, a springy layer of wet leaves gave off the scent of autumn decay, but even the rot smell couldn’t entirely mask the tang of old blood in the air. There was so much of it, a lot of it Gajeel’s own, that he was certain even Levy’s human nose would be able to pick it up. Sure enough, her nose wrinkled and her already pale skin drained of colour.
“Hey,” Gajeel murmured, touching her elbow lightly in warning before reaching to rearrange her scarf so it covered her mouth and nose. “It’s gonna get worse in there.” He gestured over his shoulder towards the room where they had fought Gideon and his pig monsters. “You wanna leave, just say the word. Any time.”
“Okay,” Levy whispered, her voice muffled by the fabric. Her slim fingers brushed over Gajeel’s wrist as he moved back a step and he got the impression she was reassuring herself. They’d both made it out, everything was okay now. “We’ve got this.”
“Hell yeah we do, we’re Fairy Tail,” he boasted with an arrogant grin and a spark of satisfaction at her answering indulgent smile. “C’mon.”
With Levy’s light guiding the way, they cautiously made their way into Gideon’s room. Five of the six stasis tanks that had lined the room were still in place, their lights extinguished and doors open. The sixth was back at Council Headquarters after being used to transport the Guildmaster to his new forever home. Towards the back of the room was a raised metal platform and the monitor system that controlled the tanks, and beyond that, Gideon’s laboratory and the sectioned off area that passed for Cordelia’s bedroom.
An enormous bloodstain ran the centre of the room from where Emery had put the pig monsters down and gathered their corpses – the corpses themselves removed alongside their master and incinerated by the Rune Knights. Levy carefully skirted around the stain as she led the way back to Cordy’s corner.
“He tried to grab a briefcase of supplies as he was leaving,” she explained, stepping over the torn down medical curtain and towards the bed. The mushrooms that had previously crowded the space were shrivelled and brown, their luminescence dimmed after so long without Cordelia’s presence. The pale pink bedspread looked grossly out of place, as did the ginger cat plushie sat beside the pillow. “Aww. Maybe we should take a few things for her?” Levy asked, picking up the cat and looking it over. “He’s still in one piece.”
Gajeel tried to push out the image of tiny Cordelia, huddled on a bare cot in a Council holding cell, unable to sleep without her fluffy friend beside her. Damnit. He was a Dragon Slayer, for fucks sake, he would not cry over this lonely ginger kitty and the girl who missed him.
“Here, I got space,” Gajeel said gruffly, taking the cat and putting it inside his satchel. He paused by the dresser to grab a handful of trinkets and hair ribbons and stowed them alongside the cat. Levy gave him a knowing look that made his cheeks heat.
“She must be about Wendy’s age, huh?” She commented lightly, her big brown eyes seeing more than Gajeel would ever show anyone else.
“Close enough,” he replied quietly, turning his back to the sad corner of cave that Cordelia had called home for who knew how long. “Briefcase.” He pointed to the open briefcase lying on the floor, its contents scattered across the rough stone along with a single bloodied crossbow bolt.
“There might be hypodermics, be careful,” Levy said, crouching and carefully leafing through the papers. After a few minutes of searching, she sighed. “I think this is written in code.” She held up a page of notes and diagrams as though it would mean anything at all to Gajeel. He made a noncommittal noise in response and went back to scanning over the mess of overturned steel tables and broken glass at the back of the room.
“Think you can crack it?”
“With some time, probably,” she answered thoughtfully. “We should take everything that looks important, I can sort through it at HQ.”
Together, they grabbed every scrap of paperwork that seemed relevant and packed Gideon’s briefcase full of as many samples and potions as would fit, including vials with locks of long, green hair, and others with slivers of silvery mushrooms. They took it all, every piece of a jigsaw puzzle they didn’t know the picture for.
“I really hope this works,” Levy confessed as they backtracked towards the lift shaft, avoiding the pig blood stain. “For Cordelia’s sake. I think Emery and Suzannah could raise her well.”
“You think?”
“I really do,” she confirmed quietly. “They’ve been through a lot but they’re still so kind.”
Sounded like someone else Gajeel knew, though he didn’t say that out loud. Levy would be quick to deny that she’d been through anything as bad as the story Gajeel had overheard in the kitchen, only listening in because Levy’s heart had been racing so damn fast he was worried she might pass out.
“They’re good people, I guess,” Gajeel agreed, securing his satchel ready for the climb out. He glanced up the well, seeing bare branches above and the starry sky beyond, not a cloud in sight. The air had taken on a chill that sang of the first frost of the season and he quickly mapped out a path of hand and footholds, eager to get Levy back to the cottage so they could warm up by the fire. Maybe they could take a nap before she disappeared off to start decoding those research papers. “Ready, Shrimp?” He reached out a hand for her, turning when she didn’t take it. Her back was turned to him as she stared at the other doorway across the chamber. “Hey, Lev?”
“Sorry, um…” She turned back to him, avoiding his eye even as she took his outstretched hand.
“You wanna go look?” He offered, squeezing her fingers in what he hoped was a reassuring way.
“It’s Vigil’s room,” Levy explained unnecessarily. Gajeel knew. That room was where he’d caught up with Levy after everything, their not-quite-kiss lingering in the air between them, important words unspoken but hovering on the tip of his tongue.
“I know.” His voice was gravelly with emotion at the memory and he cleared his throat surreptitiously. “Wanna look?”
“…Yes.”
Thirty minutes later, Gajeel realised he could watch Levy look at books all day long. Even under these circumstances, in this depressing-ass room, surrounded by the ghosts of all that happened in this guildhall, she could find joy in ink and paper and leather. After summoning enough light to banish the shadows from the space, she had quietly started looking over the spines of the books stacked on the floor, sometimes tracing the golden letters and sometimes muttering to herself in languages Gajeel couldn’t understand.
After a while and with some reluctance, she turned to the desk and slowly started stacking up the papers there.
“He was studying my book,” Levy explained quietly. “Grandpa Crux’s book on Celestial History. He took it because he wanted to study it. He took care of it, kept it safe from the damp and the dust.” She gestured to a glass screen and the lectern sitting behind it, now empty. “Emery said something last time we were here. They said, ‘kindness will always be a kindness’.”
“They say a lotta shit,” Gajeel grumbled, his old chest wound aching at the idea of Levy showing any kindness to the evil piece of work that nearly killed the whole team.
“Don’t be a grump,” Levy teased him, her weak smile shining in the light. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified to even be in the same room as Vigil, but what if he’s been stuck in this cycle of unkindness too long to find his own way out? Look at how he lived! This place, this guild, it taught him so much hatred, but this?” She held aloft the stack of Vigil’s neatly handwritten notes. “I think this is him. An intelligent scholar in need of a little kindness.”
It sounded like a nice idea. Gajeel knew it would be the peak of hypocrisy to deny the power of a little kindness. Damnit, he was the posterchild for how much life could improve with even one person believing in the capacity for change, but… he also remembered the feeling of his shadows being siphoned away, and he remembered the glee in Vigil’s eyes as he’d stolen them for himself.
“Not everyone can be fixed, Lev.” Gajeel hated the way his voice trembled, hated that this creepy kid still scared him.
“Does that mean we shouldn’t try?” Levy’s voice was tiny and tremulous but she faced Gajeel with her shoulders set and her gaze steady. He was so damn proud of her. “He was adopted into a dark guild by a master who wanted to use his power for evil, brainwashed into thinking it was the right thing. The others – Adeline, Astaria, Dorian – they’re all fully grown, they should know better. But… Vigil is the same age you were.” She made her point with an apologetic tilt of her eyebrows.
Because that was the kicker, right? They both knew that as evil as Vigil was, Gajeel had been every bit as bad, and yet Levy was here. Levy was here and looking at him with big, guileless eyes that he wanted to see first thing every morning and last thing every night for the rest of his life – a future he never would have considered when he’d been under Jose’s thumb.
That future was a gift from another Fairy, another undeserved act of kindness given with a hopeful heart.
Master Makarov would be so proud of Levy.
Gajeel gently took the stack of papers from her hands and slid them into his satchel.
“Lemme help.”
-
The sound of loudly sung shanties filled the holding cells of the Council Headquarters, courtesy of Captain Sterling and his never-ending repertoire. Lily carefully positioned his big body between Levy and the next cell as they passed, and Levy steadfastly tuned out whatever disgusting nonsense Dorian was hollering through his cell door. Whatever it was, it was enough to make Gajeel’s fists clench at his sides.
“Shoulda let Emery kill him,” Gajeel muttered as Levy moved up beside him, touching the back of her fingers to his briefly and shooting Lily a grateful look.
“I’m sure they could still make it look like an accident…” Levy whispered uncharitably.
“You suggesting cold-blooded murder?” Gajeel murmured back, a smug smirk curling his lips up at one corner. “Little Miss Fairy Tail, who’da thought?” He looked far too pleased about the prospect but before Levy could reiterate that she was definitely absolutely not serious, they came to their destination and their smiles fell away in tandem. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Levy answered after a deep breath, willing it to be true. “You?”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them reached for the door to the cell.
“I’m fine, too,” Lily commented from behind them, a giant presence at Levy’s back. Having him there definitely helped her feel safer, even whilst the memory of his slowly regrowing fur and the now-healed burns beneath made her want to send him far away from this place. “In case you were worried.”
“Nah, Cat. Wasn’t worried,” Gajeel smirked as he reached for the door. “Ready?” At their confirmation, he unlocked the cell and stepped inside.
Vigil sat in the corner of the room furthest away from the door, huddling into the darkest shadows away from the glowing anti-magic barrier that kept him confined to his side of the cell. He was tucked into a ball, his knees held close to his chest with his head leaning back against the wall. His purple hair, usually weaved into an elaborate braid, hung loose and dishevelled to his waist.
The month or so since his arrest had not been kind to him. Despite regular meal deliveries to his cell, he had lost enough weight that his cheekbones looked ready to cut through his sallow skin. His nightmarish, black-filmed eyes were dull, without even the unhinged gleam of violence that had been present every other time Levy had seen him. He silently watched them file into the cell and Lily closed the door behind.
It was quiet, only the faintest notes of Sterling’s music audible through the stone and wood.
Levy took a deep breath to steel herself. They had agreed before coming here that she would take lead on this conversation – it was her project after all – but facing those black eyes again was proving more difficult than she anticipated, though not for the reason she’d expected.
“You smell like fear.” Vigil’s voice slithered from him without an ounce of emotion.
The need to get this conversation right kept Levy from shrinking away at the memories that voice conjured. Everything was okay. Gajeel’s blood was no longer splattered across her face. Lily didn’t smell like burnt fur and singed skin. The rest of the team was safe, away from here, and there was a young girl that desperately needed help.
“I need your help,” Levy stated calmly, waiting as Vigil chuckled in disbelief and unfolded from his position on the floor. He stood stooped, as though the world had permanently weighed his shoulders down. When he opened his mouth, presumably to tell her exactly what he thought of her in a descriptive and terrifying way, Levy held up a hand to cut him off. “I need your help to give Cordelia a better life.”
Those awful eyes narrowed, a motion that really highlighted the dark purple bruises beneath. His head tilted and he closed his mouth to wait for an explanation.
“Gajeel, please could you move the table here?” Levy asked, pointing towards a wooden side table on their side of the room. Gajeel moved it right up to the barrier before returning to his spot at Levy’s shoulder with his arms crossed. “We went back to Gideon’s laboratory to search for the inoculation, the one you claimed made you immune to Cordelia’s mind controlling spores.” Levy had spent all weekend pouring over those notes, working night and day to figure out Gideon’s cypher before realising there was a clear delineation between what she could decode, and what she couldn’t. “I need you to decode your half of the research.”
With little fanfare, she set three sheaves of paper on the table: first, Gideon’s notes, carefully annotated and labelled. Second, the pages of research she couldn’t decode, written in a neat hand almost identical to Gideon’s. Third, a stack of papers, the top page entitled Chapter One: The Creation of the Celestial Spirit World, written in matching handwriting.
“You stole my notes,” Vigil growled, prowling a step forward as though he meant to take back what was his.
“Oh, you wanna talk about who stole what, huh?” Gajeel drawled, his tone belying the sharpness in his eyes as he edged in front of Levy by an inch. “You ain’t gonna come out clean in that fight, you broke into her room and stole the damn book in the first place.”
After a beat of the shadow mages glaring at each other, their history weighing down the air between them, Levy cleared her throat and nudged Gajeel’s shoulder with her own.
“I did steal them,” Levy admitted with a nod and a tremulous attempt at an apologetic smile. “But only to bring them here to you. I noticed you didn’t have notes for the last few chapters, so…” She set her final stack of papers onto the table. “I copied out those chapters for you. You can have them whether or not you help us. Some of your questions are answered in the last few pages.”
The moment drew out, seconds dragging out as Vigil snarled. Levy forced herself to maintain her connection with his dark eyes, refusing to cower even when his fingers twitched in the way that meant he longed for a handful of shadows. The silence had stretched uncomfortably long by the time Vigil’s mouth flattened into a harsh line – not happy, not by a long shot, but he no longer bared his teeth like a scared animal.
“An hour.” Vigil snatched the papers as Levy passed them through the barrier. “And turn the lights out.”
When Levy and Lily returned an hour later, leaving Gajeel in Cordelia’s cell to unpack all the trinkets and toys and accessories they’d rescued from the cave, Vigil’s research papers waited in a neat stack, annotated and decoded. The God Slayer sat hunched as far as possible from the single remaining candle and didn’t so much as look up from his reading as Levy tentatively reached through the barrier and took the papers. In their place, she left a simple wooden comb and a black hair tie.
Only when she and Lily were safely back in the hallway and exchanging a satisfied nod did she let herself feel a frisson of excitement.
They were one step closer to bringing Cordelia home.
-
Levy watched with a grin as Gajeel chased Cordelia around Suzannah’s garden – her actual garden behind the bungalow she and Emery actually lived in. It was beautiful. Grassy pathways wove between deep borders filled with the tail end of the season’s flowers, reds and yellows and the occasional burst of pink. In a fenced off patch near the house, bright orange gourds sat waiting to be harvested. A small pond filled with newts and frogs and surrounded by moss-covered rocks took up the back quarter of the long garden.
It was every bit as magical as Levy thought it would be – as beautiful and colourful as the gardener herself.
In preparation for their gathering today – a relaxed ‘welcome home’ of sorts – Suzannah had set up a small table of snacks beneath a wooden gazebo, along with a pot of tea and a jug of juice. She poured both Levy and Lily cups of tea and smiled indulgently as Cordy’s high-pitched giggle soared across the lawn.
“It’s so nice to hear her laugh,” Suzannah said quietly, offering sugar and milk. “It’s been a tough week for her, adjusting to another new environment.”
“What she’s been through would be trying at any age,” Lily agreed. He perched on Levy’s lap so he could reach the edge of the table and sipped at his tea. “She’s brave and strong but I’m sure there will be many trials to work through.”
“Certainly. She had her first therapy session on Thursday,” Suzannah explained with a compassionate smile. “Poor lamb has a lot to talk through. Doctor Octavia has worked with several of my friends and their children. Her methods are fun and creative whilst giving the kids a safe and judgement-free space to develop.”
From their place leaning on the post of the gazebo, Emery gave a little nod of agreement, though their focus never truly strayed from the little streak of dark green dancing around the garden. Their eyes followed Cordelia’s movements like a hawk, constantly checking for threats and ready to protect at a moment’s notice.
“Iron Dragon…!” Levy cringed at Gajeel’s shout and whipped her head back towards the playing pair, ready to intervene in case Gajeel took things too far. Emery jumped off the wooden platform and took a purposeful step forward. “Horsey!”
A relieved giggle burst from Levy as Gajeel rounded the corner of the closest flowerbed on his hands and knees, a laughing Cordelia clinging onto his back like a baby monkey.
The tension of the party eased immediately and a strange warmth gathered in Levy’s belly – butterflies fluttering low in her gut as she realised that Gajeel… Gajeel would be such a fun parent. He crawled around in the dirt as Cordy urged him to go faster, not even flinching as she yanked on his hair to steady herself. She wasn’t wearing a hat or other head covering, her crown of mushrooms on full display and the air around her glowing turquoise as her spores drifted lazily. It was freedom. There was no need for her to hide herself away anymore.
“How sweet,” Suzannah cooed.
Levy couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Gajeel was so sweet and it was about time someone outside their little family realised it. He would be the best father any child could ask for. Fun, certainly – he would play and run and wrestle until both parent and child collapsed with exhaustion. Gentle, for sure – he could patch up scrapes and grazes with the best of them, and the idea of him singing a baby to sleep or reading a toddler a bedtime story was the cutest thing Levy had ever imagined.
But most of all, Gajeel would protect that child until his last breath. Whether it was at a parent-teacher meeting or, heavens forbid, on a battlefield, Gajeel would never stop fighting until he knew that child was safe, happy, and loved.
The knowledge settled in Levy’s heart with certainty.
The Iron Dragon Slayer would be the absolute best father one day, if he wanted to be.
Oh no.
As if Levy didn’t have enough daydreams about her captain-slash-cuddle buddy, now she was picturing him holding a tiny little mini-me baby, a shock of thick black hair and dark ruby eyes peeking out of a swaddle.
“Uh oh.” Suzannah’s voice was gentle but there was a teasing glint in her eye that made Levy blush hotly. “I know that face.”
“W-what? No! There’s no face!” Levy waved one hand airily, trying to avert some of the attention away from her. “I don’t have a face!”
“Hate to break it to ya, Shorty,” Gajeel said as he stomped up into the gazebo and flopped onto the bench seat beside her, casually swinging one arm onto the back of the chair. With his other hand, he poked at her reddened cheek with his pointer finger until she batted him away. “Yup, that’s definitely a face. Sorry, Lev.”
“Excuse me, Suzie,” Cordelia’s tiny voice said from the steps, Emery at her back with a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Please can I show them the cake now?”
“Of course, hon!” Suzannah said happily. “Let’s fetch it together, okay?”
Together, they hurried off to the kitchen and Cordelia hesitantly slid her hand into Suzannah’s as they walked down the path side by side.
A tortured sound broke the silence in the gazebo but by the time Levy looked to Emery, their expression was blank again. They cleared their throat uncomfortably.
“Apologies,” Emery said flatly. “I… They…” They coughed again. Then swallowed. Levy wondered if she’d ever seen Emery truly lost for words. “Those two… are the best thing to ever happen to me. My wife. My… daughter.” They blinked twice and breathed the autumn air deep into their lungs. An outrageous show of emotion, by Emery’s standards.
“She’s a great kid, pal,” Gajeel offered after a second of semi-awkward silence. “Uh… want me to teach her to fight?”
“Gajeel!” Levy gasped, her eyes darting between Gajeel and Emery with a little shake of her head.
“Yes,” Emery answered immediately. “If she’d like to. She needs the tools to protect herself. To survive.”
“I get it.” Gajeel’s voice was low and empathetic and, though he didn’t meet Levy’s eye, his hand dropped to the back of her neck and his thumb brushed her hairline just enough to make her belly flutter with emotion. He pulled his hand back as Suzannah and Cordelia arrived back with the cake. “Hey, is that lemon drizzle?”
“It’s a… family recipe,” Cordy said shily, placing the platter down on the table and climbing onto the bench next to Levy.
“Looks great!” Levy lied happily. The cake was a far cry from Suzannah’s perfectly piped buttercream rosettes and carefully sprinkled lemon zest.
“We seeing the same cake?” Gajeel muttered under his breath, cutting off at Emery’s lethal glare and Levy’s sharp elbow to his gut. “Smells delicious,” he grunted hoarsely, rubbing at his abs as though Levy could ever actually hurt him. She raised an eyebrow and he grinned in return, leaning closer as he reached to ruffle Cordelia’s hair. “Good job, Kid.”
The conversation picked right back up as they ate the cake, which was every bit as delicious as it smelled, and Cordy soon dragged Lily away to play on the lawn despite the subtle drop in temperature as the sun started to go down.
Levy held still as Gajeel wiped a smudge of buttercream from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, then smiled up at him gratefully. Her heart jumped into her throat as he absentmindedly sucked his finger clean before agreeing with something Emery had said, the thread of conversation completely lost to Levy as her cheeks flushed.
Across the table, Suzannah raised her eyebrows then fanned herself dramatically. After glancing around quickly to make sure the others were well immersed in their conversation, Levy nodded emphatically, and they both burst into giggles. It was… nice. It soothed something long missing from Levy’s heart.
The older members of Fairy Tail were wonderful, and they had really tried to step up after Levy’s parents died, but the ease with which both Suzannah and Emery had taken to parenthood was a joy to behold. The love they showed those they cared for was warm and bright.
Gajeel gave her a quizzical look as her laughter died down but only settled his huge arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer when she shook her head sheepishly. There was no way she was explaining that to him. Instead, she rested against his body and absorbed as much heat as she could as the air cooled and afternoon became evening.
“Thanks,” Levy mumbled, smiling as Gajeel briefly nuzzled his nose into her hair.
Despite the chill in the air, Levy was warm.