Fairy Tail 1. The Feeling of Isolation

**A/N: I know, I'm bad, starting a new one when my other ones haven't even been updated recently. But this came to mind out of nowhere today, and I had to get it out there. **

**Back to my actiony type of storyline! Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

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**Chapter One: The Feeling of Isolation**

_I am a prisoner of war_.

The young man blinked wearily and looked down at the cold stone floor, his dull green eyes straining to see what he had scratched in the rock. The dim light inside his cell just barely illuminated the area surrounding him, casting an eerie bluish glow on the floor.

He blinked tiredly and looked around, the chain on his ankle clanking softly on the ground. He shivered, bringing his arms close to his body to try and preserve what little bodily warmth he had left. He reached to the side and grabbed a ratty blanket off his dirty cot, pulling it around his bare torso and burying his nose in the coarse fabric.

It was winter, in the year of X791.

The young man clenched his teeth bitterly and sighed. Two years ago, he had been a soldier in the army of Fiore, a country of Earthland. Four years ago, Earthland entered a state of civil war as the countries of Pergrande and Minstrel declared war on the other, each vying to take over the world. The rest of the country was forced to choose sides, and Fiore chose Minstrel.

The young man sighed. He had been drafted into the army, and trained as a soldier. He, along with his platoon, had been touring the countryside of Iceberg, when _it _happened.

The ambush.

He and his men had been targeted in a small forest made up of dense trees covered in viney, leafy plants. The undergrowth was thick, and the canopy was completely opaque, only the tiniest slivers of light shining through.

When he and his men had been attacked, they were resting in a small clearing, taking a two minute water break. He had been just emptying his water flask when it began.

"_Captain Fernandes," a younger man yelled, hiding next to him, sheltering behind the fallen bodies of their dead comrades. _

_He turned and looked at the man- a boy really- and grunted. "What is it, Sergeant?" he asked gruffly, brushing his blue hair out of his eyes. _

_The boy dropped his gun on the ground, his eyes full of fear. "Empty," he whispered. "No more bullets."_

_Captain Fernandes looked around, his eyes widening as he looked at the carnage surrounding him. He watched with wide eyes as his lieutenant, a man named Simon, was downed with a bullet to the forehead. His head jerked back, and there was a spurt of blood as the man collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground. Behind him, a younger man named Sho fell to the ground, screaming and cursing as a bullet tore through his shoulder, another through his thigh. His screams were abruptly cut off as he took a bullet to the chest, tearing his heart apart. His scream was cut off abruptly, and he fell limply._

_A man named Wally, Sergeant First Class, ran towards the tree line, a bloodcurling scream tearing past his lips. He barely made it five feet before he was torn apart by bullets. The sound of a gun, Captain Fernandes decided, was the death toll of yet another soldier._

_He gritted his teeth, dodging to the side as a wave of bullets flew at him. A hiss of pain flew out of his mouth as a bullet grazed his leg, tearing his pants and carving a groove in his calf. He collapsed beside a pile of his fallen comrades and dragged himself behind them, using them as a wall. He gritted his teeth and held his leg, watching the blood drip down his skin._

"_Captain!" said the same boy, the Sergeant from before. He dashed over to his captain's side, tearing a part of his inner jacket and dropping next to his injured superior._

"_I'm ok," the captain whispered, gritting his teeth. The young man bandaged his wound anyway, wrapping the soft linen firmly around the wound. The captain gritted his teeth as pain washed through his body, but he forced it back. A wound like this would not hinder him._

_He nodded his thanks to the young man and turned his head, peering over his fallen men. His eyes raked the forest, watching as more bullets took the lives of his comrades. He couldn't see his adversaries, but as he looked harder, he finally saw something._

_He saw a glint of metal, and then, his eyes fell on what seemed to be a breastplate. As he looked closer, he was able to make out a snake curled around a sword._

_The Pergrande Insignia. The most powerful country in Earthland, their enemy. The same enemy that was currently winning the war, thanks to their numbers and brute strength. Minstrel and their allies, had been forced to fight using guerrilla tactics- attacking in small numbers using the wilderness, then disappearing once they had destroyed their enemy. Just like what Captain Fernandes had been planning as they marched through the countryside of Iceberg, making their way to a town rumored to be harboring a brigade of Pergrandian soldiers._

_The captain narrowed his eyes. "Pergrande, huh," he whispered. "We were played. They've got us."_

_As more and more of his men fell, despair settled in. This was it. They were finished._

_A startled gasp and a wrenching scream jolted the blue haired man out of his thoughts, and he turned. The boy who he had just spoken with coughed, blood streaming out of his mouth and his chest. As the captain watched, the boy's chest exploded as two more rounds fired. The boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed, his blood staining the earth red._

_Captain Fernandes looked at his hands, ducking his head as another shot sailed over him, just narrowly missing him by an inch. His gun had only three more rounds before he too was depleted. He then would have to resort to his sword, which would be no good against a gun. He'd be dead before he made it to the trees, like Sergeant First Class Wally had found out._

_He looked over at the dead boy, seeing the blank eyes, the limp hands. His heart sank. "The meaningless of war," he murmured, listening to the sounds of his comrades being murdered around him. He reached over and closed the boy's eyes with two bloody fingers, before reaching into his army coat and pulling out a white handkerchief._

He looked up and stared bleakly at the barred window several feet above him. He was able to make out a gray, cloudy sky and some tree branches, looking like skeletons in the sky. If he peered close enough, he thought he could make out white puffs floating in the air.

"Feeding time," a harsh voice said, and he looked up. A guard wearing the Pergrande insignia opened the door to his cell and threw a plate on the ground, which held a chunk of stale bread and a piece of moldy cheese. He then plopped a tin full of briny water next to it.

"Eat up."

The prisoner crawled over to the plate and gingerly picked up the piece of break, gnawing at it with his teeth. It was dusty and dry, making his throat clench and tighten. He swallowed, then coughed, hacking as the crumbly piece of food lodged in his throat.

He reached for the tin of water, only to groan when his hand missed the handle and knocked it over, sending the precious liquid racing across the floor. Desperate, he bent down and sucked up as much as he could, trying to ease the pain in his throat.

"What a pitiful sight," the guard said, looking at the prisoner with a baleful eye. He noted the ragged blue hair, the red tattoo under the right eye, and the lifeless look in the prisoner's green eyes.

"Captain Jellal Fernandes of Fiore, am I right?" the guard asked, leaning against the door frame.

The blue haired man looked up, water dripping down his chin. Warily, he nodded, the bread clenched firmly in his hands.

"So you were a soldier, am I right?" the guard said, picking at the grime under his fingernails.

"That's right," the blue haired man said. The raspiness in his voice startled him- had he really not used his voice for that long? When was the last time he talked?

He couldn't remember.

"Well it's too bad your country didn't survive the war," the guard continued, a gleeful light appearing in his malicious eyes. "Say goodbye to that worthless country."

Jellal froze. "W-What did you say?" He asked, shaking. His eyes widened, a light suddenly shining in their green depths. For a split second, life was revived back into him. But at the guard's next words, the light drained out of his eyes and he returned to his lethargic state.

"Pergrande bombed them last month. Turned Fiore into a desolate wasteland. "No Man's Land," we're calling it," the guard said, puffing his chest up proudly. He grinned sadistically down at Jellal. "Sorry, Fernandes, but your country is gone."

Jellal sat there, his eyes wide and disbelieving, while the guard laughed maniacally and exited his cell, closing the gate and locking it. He winked at Jellal before walking off, swinging his keys and whistling a foreign tune. Jellal stared blankly after him until he walked around a corner and disappeared.

My country...is gone? he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. Fiore's... been destroyed?

He thought of all his friends, his family. The people he left behind.

They were gone. Turned to dust to be scattered in the wind and forgotten.

His mouth opened, whether to scream or yell out in anger. But nothing came out. He wasn't sure if it was he was too weak to yell, or his shock just rendered him speechless.

He collapsed against the wall, his chains clanking. He looked down at his outstretched legs, his bare feet grimy and his ankles chafed raw from his shackles. There was a roaring sound in his ears, and he could hear his own heartbeat: fast and erratic. His chest, still muscular even though he was lacking in strength, food, and activity, heaved. He tried to calm his breathing, but he just couldn't help the panting breaths escaping past his lips.

His country, the country he had tried to protect, was gone. He had nothing left to go back home to- if he ever made it home, that is.

He had been held captive for so long, the very thought of being able to return home almost sounded ridiculous now. He tried holding on to the hope that he would one day be freed, but he had given up long ago.

Thinking of home, now, was futile. There was no home to think about.

He wondered about his family. Did they at least die a quick death? Or were they blasted apart into shreds by shrapnel by the bomb? Buried alive? Burned in the fires of the aftermath? Did they survive, and then get picked off by snipers Pergrande no doubt sent to get rid of any survivors?

His mother had always been a gentle woman. She was the type that would never hurt a fly- she would even save spiders and ants from his wrathful fists and bring them outside to set them free. She had protested strongly when he was drafted into the army, crying and clutching on to the lapels of his jacket the day he left. He had had to pry her fingers off his coat.

His father, on the other hand, had been a war hero when Bosco and Iceberg began to fight with eachother. He had died in combat, but when Jellal had known him, he had been a tougher, gruff man, with long blue hair and a tattoo around his right eye, like Jellal had. He had given Jellal his middle name as his own.

_Jellal Siegrain Fernandes._

He had also had a sister, a beautiful little girl named Wendy. She had been a surprise, having being born when Jellal was thirteen, back when Siegrain had been alive. He had died shortly before Jellal was drafted at age eighteen.

Jellal was twenty now.

Wendy would've turned eight this year.

Jellal felt tears forming in his eyes, but he dashed them away. "No," he whispered. "No mourning for them until you know that they're dead for sure."

He had given up hope for almost everything, but he wouldn't give up on his family, not just yet. It would be the last thing he let go. If he ever got out of his prison, he'd return to Fiore and find out the truth.

He looked out the window again, his eyes narrowing as snow was suddenly swept in, swirling around and dancing in his cell. The sudden blast of cold had him reaching for his blanket, diving onto his cot and curling up into a ball. He eyed the discarded bread and cheese laying next to him with distaste. There was no way he was going to eat that. He'd rather starve.

He watched the snow drift through the air of his cell, dancing in the space and swirling around. It was almost a beautiful sight, but Jellal was filled with a cold and empty feeling.

His eyes fell to the floor, where his scratching on the rock was clearly visible.

_I am a prisoner of war._


	2. Beauty of Nature

**A/N: I'm sorry I'm so late with my updates, life is being a bitch and kicking me in the ass. Thank god its winter break, so I'll have time to catch up.**

**heads up, some OOC in this chapter, and probably for the rest of the story.**

**thanks for reviewing, ****favoriting, and following.**

**please disregard the spelling errors in this chapter. I'll fix it later! **

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**Chapter Two: Beauty of Nature**

"What's your name?"

She blinked and looked up, wiping the strands of red hair out of her face. The person who spoke to her, a young blonde woman with wide brown eyes, leaned over her with a curious look in her eyes, her lips pursed.

"My name?" The red haired woman asked, her mind fuzzy. "Erza Scarlet."

The blonde smiled warmly. "Erza Scarlet," she murmured, bending down and sitting next to the redhead. "What a beautiful name. Just like you."

Erza looked around. She was in a small, featureless room, the lights dim. She was wearing a plain, white cotton dress, which was grimy and blood spattered. Erza could feel a dull aching pain in her head, and when she put her hand up to her temple, she felt warm liquid seeping down her face. When she brought her hand away, it was stained red. Red with blood.

"Wh-" her voice broke and she coughed, hacking. The other woman patted her back and handed her a canteen.

"Drink, Scarlet. You haven't drank since last night."

Erza accepted the water gratefully and gulped down the cool water, easing the dryness in her parched throat. She looked hazily at the blonde woman.

"What happened?" she rasped. She looked around the room, just noticing that she was laying on a simple cot, and that she had a bandage on her right shoulder.\

"You don't remember, huh?" The blonde asked.

Erza shook her head. "Something happened the other night, that much I'm sure of. But for some reason, my mind blanks when I try and remember."

The blonde reached out a hand. "Well, first off, let me introduce myself. My name is Lucy. Lucy Heartfilia. As of where we are, and what happened, well," she sighed and swallowed.

"We've been kidnapped by the Pergrande Army, and are now the king's slaves."

Erza's eyes widened, and suddenly, her memories flooded back to her.

"_Mother! Father!" Erza screamed, reaching her hands out and running forward, even though a soldier was grabbing her arms and yanking her back. Her eyes were wide and filled with horror as a second soldier smiled harshly in front of her, pulling his sword out of her father's chest. Her father choked and coughed up blood, his hands weakly reaching out for Erza and her mother. _

"_Father!" Erza screamed, tears flooding out of her eyes. Her father fell to his knees, blood pouring out of his mouth. His eyes, which were closing rapidly, locked with Erza's. "I love you, my Scarlet," he whispered, before closing his eyes and falling to the ground with a thump._

"_No!" Erza's mother screamed, flying forward and landing next to her dead husband. "Why are you doing this? Please, stop!"_

"_Father!" Erza screamed, trying in vain to pry herself away from the soldier holding her captive. She kicked and screamed, her hair flying into her face._

"_Shut up," the soldier said coldly, whipping a dagger out and pressing it against the pulse of her throat. The action was so abrupt, and so cold, that Erza froze, the blood in her body chilling._

_Her mother's eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. "What...What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" she gasped._

_The soldier who had killed her father laughed, pointing his bloody blade at Erza's mother. "Pergrande is a big country," he cackled. "We have a big capital. And with a big capital, there's a big castle that needs cleaning."_

"_You took my husband," Erza's mother screamed, tears pouring down her face. "Don't take my daughter, please-"_

"_Don't worry," the soldier sneered. "You can join your beloved husband. Your daughter won't be needing you anymore."_

_Erza's eyes widened at the same time her mother's did. The soldier raised his sword._

"_Mother," Erza whispered. _

_Her mother smiled sadly at her. Her hands clenched the front of her husband's blood soaked shirt._

_The sword fell._

Erza blinked, trying to shake off the memory. She remember being dragged from her house, the soldier throwing a lit torch through the door and setting the house ablaze. Her town, the town when she grew up, was in flames. People were screaming, and she remembered other girls and children being dragged out of their homes.

She remembered being dragged into a large room and thrown to the ground, amongst other people. But that was it. It didn't explain the amnesia and the wound on her forehead.

"Remember?" Lucy asked. "You grabbed a soldier's sword and actually began to fight. Quite well, to be honest. But then another soldier hit you on the forehead."

Erza's mind was fuzzy, but she vaguely remembered a fight. Her father had taught her some sword skills when she was younger, but he had stopped once she had turned sixteen. He forgot, however, to get rid of his katana. She had taken it and practiced behind the house whenever he was working. She never thought she'd have to use those skill.

How wrong she was.

Lucy grasped her hand. "You fought wonderfully," the blonde whispered. "I don't know how you learned to fight like that, but whatever it was, you put up one hell of a fight."

Erza looked around. "What now?" she asked, hoping to get off the topic of her sword skills. In her mind, if she didn't come out the victor, then she didn't do well. Erza Scarlet was a proud girl, wanting only the best.

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and a tall woman walked in. She had long black hair, and she was wearing a shining blue dress. A silver crown was nestled among the locks of her raven hair, and she glared down haughtily at Erza with dark green eyes.

The color of Envy.

"Bow to the princess Minerva!" a man's voice boomed out, and Erza narrowed her eyes. Next to her, Lucy lowered her head and slapped Erza's hand to do the same. Even though she didn't want to, Erza bowed.

"What do we have here? A ginger?" a cool voice asked, feminine and proud. Erza had no trouble in figuring out who spoke.

"On the contrary, your highness," Erza spoke out, through gritted teeth. "It's red. Scarlet, if you wish. Not ginger."

There was a moment of silence, and Erza braced herself. From the tension in the air, punishment was inevitable.

She winced as Lucy was suddenly pushed to the side, and then a hand seized the collar of her shirt and yanked her head up. Her dark brown eyes met Minerva's cold green ones, blazing with fury.

"What a pitiful little bitch," Minerva hissed scathingly. Her hand tightened its grip on Erza's throat. The red head gritted her teeth, but held herself still.

Minerva looked into her eyes. "No fear," the princess murmured. She suddenly let go of Erza's shirt, and backed away. Erza leaned over, coughing and pounding her chest, trying to get air into her tight lungs.

"You're one proud girl," Minerva said, walking away. She looked over her shoulder at Erza and Lucy. "It'll be a pleasure breaking your spirit."

_**Three weeks later**_

Erza sighed, pushing the hair out of her eyes. With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, she pulled the unruly locks away from her face and tied them back in a messy bun.

She looked around, frowning. She was standing in the washroom of the palace, folding the clean linens of princess Minerva. The washroom itself was hot and sticky, leaving Erza hot and sweaty.

"Erza?" A voice asked, and the redhead turned. She smiled upon seeing Lucy enter the room, a basket of clean laundry in her arms.

"Hi there, Lucy," Erza murmured, folding the last towel and placing it in her laundry basket. "How are you?"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "I forgot that the king asked for his golden blankets be washed and laundered. I have to put these away and then run up to get the right linens. How about you?"

Erza hefted the basket of laundry, wincing. "I have to bring these up to Minerva, otherwise she'll have my head."

Lucy smiled faintly. Erza could see the fatigue in the blonde's eyes, and felt a twinge of pity for her. Ever since the encounter with Minerva a few weeks ago, Erza and Lucy had been given the most menial of tasks, making them the drudges of the castle.

Erza walked forward and patted Lucy on the shoulder. "I'll see you later," the redhead promised. The two of them usually ate lunch together in their shared room, a cramped little space that was large enough to fit two beds and a desk.

"Sure thing. I'll see if I can get Yajima to give us a few extra loaves of bread," Lucy said, turning to watch Erza's receding back.

Erza trudged up the stairs, heading through the courtyard. She noticed a small opening near the bottom of the wall, but paid it no mind. It had caught her attention, but she'd investigate later.

She shivered and looked up at the sky, noticing the stormy clouds above, tinted yellow. "Looks like snow," she whispered, pulling her cloak tighter around her body.

She made her way to the princess's chambers, knocking politely and waiting for permission to enter. Once she was given the ok, she opened the door and walked through the entrance.

Minerva was laying on her large, queen sized bed, reading a book. She eyed Erza when she came in, but didn't say a word. Erza, in turn, ignored the princess's presence and walked over to the large closet, dumping the basket on the ground.

"Miss Scarlet," Minerva called over, looking up from her novel. "If you would please, try and be quiet over there. I am trying to read."

Erza looked over at the princess and felt a sudden urge to throw the basket at her. Despite her consciousness screaming at her to do so, she nodded politely and bent down, taking the linens and placing them neatly in the closet.

Erza hated being and servant. She wanted her old life back, working in the fields with her father, making dinner with her mother, playing with the other children in the town.

There was a boy from her town, a boy called Simon. They had grown up together, and many people in the town has seen them as lovers. Rumors had spread about the two, and to Erza it felt like the town wanted the two of them to elope.

She had known that Simon had had feelings for her, but she wasn't so sure she reciprocated. They had kissed once- it was a sheer accident they were thrown into such as coincidental situation. Erza had felt no romantic feelings for him.

And now, he was dead. Granted, she didn't seem him die, but deep in her gut, she knew that he was gone.

She felt felt a cool wetness on her cheeks and raised a hand. She started when she felt a the cool tears, and hurriedly brushed them away. She couldn't cry here. There was no point in crying over someone who was already gone.

She placed the last towel on the shelf, then picked up the basket and backed out of the closet, closing the door firmly behind her. She gave a hurried bow to Minerva, who paid no attention. She sighed and proceeded to step out the doorway, when the princess spoke up.

"Miss Scarlet," came the cold, feminine voice. Erza gritted her teeth and turned, preparing to receive whatever grueling task Minerva had planned for her now.

"Yes, your highness?" She asked with forced politeness.

Minerva looked at her through narrowed green eyes. "Do me a favor," she said, stretching languishly. "Go to the garden greenhouse and cut me a bouquet of red roses. I want to decorate my room a bit. Run along now."

Erza bowed, maybe a bit too low to be considered genuine, and said, "why of course, your majesty," in a voice dripping with sarcasm. She stepped out the door and closed it and it harder than usual before stomping down the hall.

Once she made It downstairs, she entered the courtyard. The sudden blast of cold wind chilled her, and with dismay, she saw the first snowflakes come tumbling down.

She raced through the courtyard, running for the greenhouse, which was situated on the opposite side of the yard. With cold fingers, she yanked open the door and slipped inside, reveling in the warmth. The greenhouse smelled of warm dirt and plants, of new life growing.

There was a space off to the side, full of blooming rose bushes. Erza walked over, a smile on her face as she took in the beautiful flowers. She bent down and inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of the roses permeating her nostrils.

She reached for a pair of clippers, which were hanging on the wall next to her, and cut several roses, their long slim stems falling into her palms lightly. The thorns stung slightly, but Erza handled the roses carefully, making sure not to get pricked.

Once she had a dozen or so in her hand, she straightened, placing them in her apron, making sure their heads weren't smooshed. She turned and pulled her wrap close to her, preparing for the wintery mix outside.

The snow was falling lightly, looking like small puffs of feathers floating down from the sky, which had darkened to an ominous gray. Erza's breath puffed out in front of her as she breathed, and she felt like she was breathing in pure ice.

As she was walking quickly, she passed by the opening once more, noticing for the first time, that it was barred. She looked around, spying no guards, and crept closer, her curiosity peaking.

It was too dark to see anything. In the dimness, she was able to make out what seemed to be metal door facing her, but not much else. From this angle, she could not see the floor or the surrounding walls.

"Hey, hey you!" she suddenly heard, and she whirled, noticing a guard striding towards her with an angry look on his face. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What are you doing out here?" the guard asked her, stopping a few feet away. Erza's legs trembled, but she stood firm.

"I'm sorry," she began, putting a scared tone to her voice. She gestured to the little barred window by the ground. "A mouse jumped out at me from here. I was scared."

The guard snorted. "Figures. All you women are scared of stupid things. Where are you headed?"

Erza pointed towards Minerva's chambers. "To the princess," she said. "Princess Minerva asked me to bring her roses to decorate her rooms."

The guard reached forward. "Well then," he began, taking Erza roughly by the arm and pulling her forward. "Let me escort you so you don't get scared by little rodents then, shall we?" He yanked her forward, jostling her slightly, and pulled her in the direction of the princess's bedroom.

If I had a weapon, Erza thought angrily, I'd be shoving it up your ass. Me, scared? In your dreams.

As she was being towed away, she didn't see the one rose fall from her apron and land lightly on the ground. It quivered there, the redness of it's petals contrasting with the pale white of the freshly fallen snow dusting.

A sudden gust of wind picked up. The delicate flower spun in the air, the petals remarkably staying connected to the flower as the wind tossed it to and fro. The wind died, not before sending the flower flying through the barred window.

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Jellal blinked, feeling the sudden gust of wind wake him up from his slumber- doze really. He shivered, bringing his tattered blanket closer to his grimy body, wishing he had something more sustainable to warm him.

His eyes narrowed when something flew in through the barred window, landing lightly before him.

It was a dark red rose, freshly cut. The flower itself was magnificent, ruby red and luscious, in the prime of its beauty. Jellal leaned forward and plucked the flower from the floor of his cell, and brought it close to his nose. The flower smelled delicious, fresh and sweet.

There was something caught between the thorns on the stem, and Jellal frowned, untangling it. When he held It up, his eyes narrowed.

It was a strand of hair, as red as the petals of the flower.

**A/N: R&amp;R, please?**

**hope you liked it, and I promise to update all my other stories soon! Promise!**

**that new Manga chapter. Anybody? Let me just scream my feels out. I swear to god, Mashima is trying to kill me with the feels. I'm done.**

**-Wolf**


	3. Light Shines Through

**A/N: there is major OOC in this chapter, but you guys already knew that. A big thanks to AmnaK96 for being so supportive and helpful, your comments really make my day. This one's for you, my friend!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed. You guys are amazing and I am the happiest person in the world!**

**HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**

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**Chapter three: Light Shines Through**

Jellal narrowed his eyes, fingering the strand of hair caught between his thumb and forefinger. In the weak light he examined it, noticing the way it shone. The color itself was entrancing, a fiery red that stood out from the dark gray walls of his cell.

Jellal looked at the rose held in his other hand. Even though it was the middle of winter, the flower was vibrant and full, dyed the reddest hues of the rainbow. The dark green of its leaves and stem gave off its healthiness.

He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, enjoying its sweetness. These days, which were filled with so much gloom and darkness, it was good to have a change. This rose reminded him of new life.

He looked up at the window, wondering who had dropped it. Was it by accident, or did they do it on purpose. Immediately after thinking that, Jellal shook his head. No, he thought to himself. Why would someone want to give a person like me a rose? I bet no one even knows I'm down here.

He sighed, fingering the rose in his hand, being careful to not prick his fingers on its thorns. He sat back and thought about his men, the same men who died for him. He thought about that boy who treated his wounds, and sighed bitterly. I didn't even know his name, he thought to himself.

He absentmindedly began to trace the rough scar on his leg. It was long and jagged, and he remembered the pain of the bullet carving it's path down his calf. If he hadn't moved, that same bullet would've taken the entire leg, and possibly, Jellal's life. Many of his men had died from little bullet wounds like this, not because of blood loss, but because of infection. Gangrene, blood poisoning, they had been the number one killers in his platoon.

What saved him was the Pergrande soldiers, which came as a surprise.

_"Name?" A soldier asked him gruffly, after searching him for concealed weapons, to which he had none._

_Jellal stared coldly ahead, not even flinching when another Pergrande soldier wrenched his arms behind his back and secured them with rope._

_"Jellal Fernandes." He ground out harshly._

_"Title?"_

_"Captain."_

_The soldier looked him up and down, before beckoning the one who bound the bluenette over. Jellal watched as they exchanged a few heated whispers, before the one who tied Jellal ran off._

_"Where were you headed?" The soldier asked Jellal, bending down to crouch next to the seated bluenette._

_Jellal looked down at his outstretched legs, his eyes glued to the blood soaked bandage on his calf. His eyes flickered over to the clearing, where other Pergrande soldiers were walking around, inspecting the dead bodies of his fallen comrades. Jellal's eyes narrowed when he caught a glimpse of the dark haired boy that treated his leg, and he lowered his head out of respect._

_There was a sudden smack, and Jellal's head jerked to the side as the soldier placed a blow to Jellal's temple. After a moment of trying to get his bearings, Jellal looked up into the burning eyes of the soldier._

_"I'll ask you again, where were you headed?"_

_Jellal bit his lip and looked at the soldier steadily. He sent a silent message with his eyes: go to hell._

_The soldier sneered and stood, bring up his arm and if to backhand Jellal across the face. Jellal braced himself and closed his eyes just as the hand descended._

_The pain never came, and after a minute, he opened his eyes, and looked up._

_Before him, stood the soldier, his eyes wide and glaring. His arm, which had just been positioned to come down on Jellal's head, was held upright by a strong hand, covered in black fatigues. Jellal's eyes traveled up the strong arm, across the broad torso, to rest on the handsome face._

_He had deep blue eyes and and angular face. Over his right eye, a straight scar cut through his eyebrow and slashed diagonally down the side of his temple. He had spiky blonde hair, and under his arm not holding the soldier's hand was a cap decorated with three stars._

_A lieutenant general, huh? Jellal thought to himself, his eyes narrowed with grudging respect. For someone who looked so young, he must have done something pretty spectacular to get promoted._

_"You're looking at me as if I'm an alien or something," the man said, letting go of his soldier. He looked at the man and nodded. "Stand down, corporal. At ease, and be on your way. I can handle this."_

_The soldier glared at Jellal before nodding at his superior. "Sir!" He bit out, saluting the blonde before stepping away._

_"Honestly," the blonde said, sighing and kneeling on the soft forest ground. He smiled at Jellal. "They can be so uptight. Are your men like that too?"_

_Jellal glared at the blonde. "I don't know," he said coldly, jerking his head towards the clearing. "They're all dead."_

_The blonde smiled sheepishly and scratched his head. "Yeah," he said, looking over at Jellal's dead comrades, which were being piled together, their weapons and clothes stripped from their bodies. "I'm sorry about that."_

_"No you're not," Jellal said harshly. _

_The blonde looked at him, and Jellal thought he saw regret in in the blonde's eyes. "Actually," the blonde said. "I am. I'm not particularly fond of war, and I'm not fond of killing either. But this is war, and a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."_

_He looked at Jellal thoughtfully, eyeing the patch on Jellal's coat. It was Jellal's ranking, and consisted of two identical shapes of two silver bands connected by two smaller silver bands. _

_"Captain, huh? From where?" The blonde asked._

_"Fiore," Jellal bit out._

_The blonde's eyes narrowed with interest. "Fiore, huh? I hear one of your generals was making headway in the principality of Veronica. I hear he was pushing our forces back all the way to the Boscan border. What's his name... Cheney? That's right. General Rogue Cheney."_

_Jellal licked his lips. Rogue was one of Jellal's old friends in the military academy. He had been promoted early on after winning a key battle near the border of Seven. Jellal had been there too, and had also been offered the promotion, but he had declined it. Jellal was the type of person who gave others the credit, rather than take it himself._

_"That's a well respected man," the blonde continued, jolting Jellal out of his reverie. The blonde stretched, and reached into his coat to pull out a package of cigarettes. "I'd like to meet him someday."_

_"What?" Jellal asked tersely. "So you can shove a gun in his face and pull the trigger?"_

_The blonde looked at Jellal as if the bluenette grew an extra set of eyes. "Hell no," the blonde said. "That's a man I'd like to meet just out of respect. See the thing here, uh, that's right. I never got your name."_

_Jellal looked at him. "Jellal. Jellal Fernandes."_

_The blonde smiled and inclined his head. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fernandes. And I'm general Sting Eucliffe of the Pergrande Royal army."_

_"How do you become a general at such a young age?" Jellal asked him. "You look no older than twenty."_

_"I'm twenty five," Sting said, shrugging. "And the reason why I'm a general is because I'm the king's nephew."_

_Jellal's eyes flew open in shock. "The king's nephew?" He spluttered. "What are the likes of you doing out here? Shouldn't you be holed up in the capital right now, if you're a part of the noble family?"_

_Sting looked at him, at hard glint in his blue eyes. "That doesn't matter to the king," he said sharply. "I'm not his direct kin, so it doesn't matter. Being a general was the most he did for me."_

_Jellal's eyes narrowed. "Oh really?" He asked, interested._

_Sting waved him away. "That doesn't matter. I'm here, and it's not gonna change. The king's words are the law. And that's not the topic of our conversation. As I was saying before, I don't like war. It forces men to kill each other for no good reasons._

_"I met a man once, on the battlefield, somewhere in the heart of Minstrel. Had he and I but met at an inn at any other place in time, we would have sat and enjoyed a meal together._

_"But no, he and I met in the heart of a battle, staring face to face. I shot at him as he at me, and I killed him."_

_Sting sighed, lighting his cigarette and taking at long drag of it before continuing._

_"I shot him, well, he was my foe. He obviously shot at me for the same reason. Ah, war is such a curious thing. You shoot someone dead, even though he could be a friend at a different time. What a waste of life."_

_Jellal narrowed his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked Sting, never taking his eyes off of the blonde's face._

_Sting shrugged. "See the thing is, Jellal, I actually like you, and at any other place in time you and I could've been friends. I don't want to kill you, which is why I'm going to send you to the capital as a prisoner of war. You won't be killed, you have my word. I send many of my captives there, and the king uses them as laborers. That is the best I can do for you. I don't kill people without reason."_

_"You have a perfectly legitimate reason," Jellal pointed out. "We could've been friends in a different life, but we're not. I sit before you as an enemy. It would be far easier to kill me."_

_"I don't walk on the easy road," Sting said. "And they don't call me the White Dragon for nothing."_

_"White Dragon?" Jellal asked, confused at the odd nickname._

_Sting stood, dropping the cigarette on the ground and snuffing out it's end with the heel of his boot. "You don't know the legend?" He asked. Jellal shook his head._

_Sting chuckled. "It's an old Chinese myth. This dragon protected kings and spirits of virtue and purity. It was a merciful being and was also known as the White Tiger of the West."_

_Sting turned to go. "Mercy is my name. I'm sure king Ivan is tired of me sending him more and more prisoners, but I don't kill. And as for you, my friend, I pray that if we meet again, we can sit down and have a proper conversation, maybe over a mug of beer and a meal."_

Jellal often thought of the noble general who spared his life, and he often wondered what Sting was doing, whose life he was sparing this time.

He's right, Jellal thought. War is is a mindless killing machine that turns men who could've been friends into enemies.

He thought about the boy again, and remembered the White Dragon's words.

_What a waste of life._

Yes, Jellal thought. A waste indeed.

Then he took another look another the rose in his hand, and smiled faintly.

"But yet," he murmured, bringing the rose up to his nose and inhaling deeply. "There is hope."

Even in such a desolate and cold world, in the middle of a brutal and relentless winter and a war taking countless lives, a rose was able to grow, symbolizing new life, new hope.

* * *

"How many prisoners are currently being held here?" The man said, sighing happily as a female servant ran her hands over the smooth contours of his abdomen. He was reclining on a wide sofa, and had other female servants waiting on him. He called one over and she came, holding a platter full of red grapes.

"Seven, your majesty," said a man hidden in the shadows. "All sent here by General Eucliffe. Many of the others we sent to the prison on the outskirts of the capital. Eucliffe asked for these seven to be sent here personally."

"Really?" asked the man on the sofa, his dark green eyes narrowing in interest. "Pray tell, who are these prisoners that caught Sting's eye so strongly?"

He suddenly moaned as the female servant touched a rather sensitive spot on his chest. "Just like that, sweetheart," he murmured. Another woman came behind him and began to run her fingers through his long blonde hair, removing his maroon hat with pink plumage.

The other man ignored the situation. "Just a few prisoners of war. Nothing too special. And, of course, our _special _guest."

"Ah," the blonde man said, raising his head in interest. "That one. I fear I've been neglecting him lately. How about we let them loose in the courtyard today, let them loosen their legs out. I want them in top shape. Father says the ground is almost soft enough. We have all those dead POWs in the prison that need to be buried."

The man in the shadows nodded. "It is such an ugly thing," he murmured. Then he bowed to the blonde. "Very well, my prince. It will be done."

"Good," the prince said. He waved his hand. "Now begone, Orga. Leave me alone."

The man, Orga, backed away. "Yes, Prince Rufus. Enjoy the rest of the day."

The prince, Rufus, turned back to the women lavishing over him, and smiled. He reached over to the one touching his chest and dragged her down, pulling her top off. He grinned as her pearly white skin was revealed, and ran his tongue down her body, laughing wickedly when she moaned.

"Oh yes, Orga," Rufus murmured, pressing his face into the woman's alabaster skin. "Yes I will."

* * *

"Get up," the harsh voice of his jailer said, jolting Jellal awake. He opened his eyes blearily and looked around, blinking as the faint light irritated his eyes. He looked up and met the cold, unfeeling eyes of the guard who fed him.

"What?" Jellal rasped out, his throat dry. The confusion was evident in his eyes and voice.

The guard tsked impatiently and strode forward, reaching down to yank Jellal to his feet. Jellal, still clearly puzzled, just stood there in amazement as the guard bent down and unlocked his ankle chain.

"Out," the guard said flatly, pushing Jellal forward so abruptly that the bluenette stumbled and almost fell forward, catching himself at the last minute.

Am I being executed? Jellal thought wildly, stepping forward warily. He felt the cold nozzle of a gun barrel press into the small of his back, and shuddered.

"Walk."

He did as he was told, and walked forward. The guard guided him through the rows of empty cells, and out of the prison. He was led up a grimy hallway, past a kitchen full of servants preparing a meal. His mouth watered at the smell of freshly baked bread, but the guard prodded him forward.

He had no idea where he was, until he was thrust into an open yard in the heart of the castle. Only then, did he recognize his surroundings. The castle courtyard, he realized.

The guard shoved him into the center, and threw him a ratty shirt. "Walk," the guard said. "And no funny movements. I'm watching you."

Jellal glared at him, but threw the shirt over his head- it was warmer out today, but it was still chilly, and Jellal was grateful for the warmth the shirt provided- and stumbled to the side.

There were a few other prisoners in the courtyard alongside him, six to be exact. Jellal examined each one carefully. Out of all of them, only two interested him the most.

The first was a maroon haired young man, with a scar slicing across his right eye. He had pointed ears, black eyes, narrowed narrowed and slitted like a snake, and a sharp nose. He looked around, gritting his teeth and muttering intelligible curses under his breath.

The second was a bulky blonde man. He too, had a scar slicing jagged across his right eye, resembling a lightning bolt. He had thick, burly arms and a broad chest. He walked by himself, his eyes wandering.

Jellal cautiously stepped in toe with the blonde, walking alongside him hesitantly, then with greater confidence.

After a few minutes, the blonde looked at him. "You're one brave little bastard, aren't you?" He asked in a deep voice.

Jellal looked at him. "Excuse me?" He replied, shocked.

The blonde man chuckled. "You have no idea who the hell I am, do you?"

"Am I supposed to?" Jellal asked him coldly.

The blonde man shrugged. "Didn't think so. Though I thought maybe word would've gotten around."

"Word about what?"

"My name is Laxus Dreyar, and I'm the man that attempted to kill the crown prince."

"Dreyar?" Jellal couldn't the gasp slip past his throat. "But Ivan Dreyar is the-"

"King of Pergrande, I know," Laxus said. "Prince Rufus is my older brother. Both wanted Pergrande to take over. I didn't."

Laxus looked around before continuing.

"I tried to murder my brother. My father caught me at Rufus's bedside, about ready to slit his throat. I thought I was going to be put to death for sure, but instead, Ivan throws me in the prison to rot. His punishment, I suppose. Now all I can do is sit in my cell and twiddle my thumbs while my wretched brother and ass of a father try and take over the world."

"So you tried to kill your brother-"

"So that when dear old dad died, I'd take take the throne and end this shitty war, yes," Laxus said, clenching his fist.

Jellal clapped him on the shoulder. "A valiant effort, your majesty."

"Yeah, and look at where it got me," Laxus said, shrugging. He stopped walking and looked up at the sky, where the sun was, in vain, trying to come out from behind the clouds. "Let me tell you something, Blue," he continued, stepping forward. "War is a terrible thing. You become enemies with someone who at some either point could've been your friend. It's a waste of life."

Jellal narrowed his eyes at the sound of those familiar words. "You sound like someone I once knew."

Laxus ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "If you say the name-"

"Sting Eucliffe."

"-I'm gonna wring his neck," Laxus finished. "My cousin is still stealing my words, eh?"

"He's a good man," Jellal defended. "He spared my life when he could've ended it."

Laxus laughed ruefully. "That's Sting for you. He's a good man. You're lucky to have met him. He's a peaceful one, not a radical like myself."

The blonde man sighed. "I don't care who wins this war. I just want it to be over. And when it is, I pray that he become king of Pergrande. Out of all the people in this world, he deserves it the most."

With those final words, Laxus Dreyar stepped away from Jellal Fernandes and quietly walked away, leaving the bluenette to to his own devices.

For another few minutes, Jellal walked along quietly, keeping keeping to himself. He saw Laxus walking by himself, glaring up at the castle turrets.

A sudden movement caught Jellal's eye, and he turned his head. His eyes widened in disbelief, and his hand automatically went to his frayed pocket, which inside held the strand of hair he had taken from the rose.

The sun, which had tried so hard to come out, suddenly broke through the clouds, making Jellal raise his hand to shield his eyes. And still, he could not tear his gaze away from the sight of of the person before him.

The sun's rays illuminated her, turning her hair into into a blazing fire of red locks. Her eyes were wide and brown, shining with warmth. She had high cheekbones and plump lips, which were smiling at her companion, a blonde girl. She was beautiful, but not beautiful as the red haired goddess that held Jellal's attention.

She turned, and her eyes locked with Jellal's own green ones. It was then, at that very moment, Jellal found the embodiment of his hope, his light.

* * *

**A/N: so for Sting's character, I took the side of him after he became master of Sabertooth and adopted a more humble demeanor, and made it my own. I like him a lot better this way, rather than his conceited, asInine side.**

**if anyone is confused about the description of Jellal's rank, here's the link that'll have the picture:**

** en. wiki/United_States_Army_officer_rank_insignia**

**See ya soon!**

**-Wolf**


	4. A Name of Greatness

****A/N: Happy new year to everyone! I can't believe it is now 2015. *Shudders* in a few months, I'll be in college. Good god, where does the time go?****

****Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. Arigato gozaimasu, minna san!****

****I forgot to tell you, but the story Sting told Jellal in the last chapter about meeting a man was inspired off of Thomas Hardy's ******_**The Man He Killed. **_******It's a poem, and I'm not usually a fan of poetry, but this one was a perfect fit for the chapter. It's pretty catchy too.****

****I hope you enjoy the new year, and this chapter too! love you guys!****

* * *

****Chapter four: A Name of Greatness****

He is a son of man, kissed by the gods.

So Erza Scarlet thought as her gaze sought out the blue haired man with the strange red tattoo on the side of his face. He had deep green eyes and an angular jawline. Even though his face was grimy, the dirt did not make him any less attractive.

His neck was the epitome of a masculine neck; thick, with a large adam's apple covered by tan skin. It met his shoulders and collarbones, which were prominent due to the lack of nutrition, but Erza had the feeling that they were exemplary when he was in the prime of health.

The shirt he wore was loose and a tad too big, the neckline dropping low enough to let Erza see a peek of his pectoral muscles, which were broad and tan, if not a bit thin. Erza had no doubt it was because he was being poorly taken care of.

His arms were well muscles and strong looking, also a tad thin. His hands were calloused and rough, but at the same time, held a look of such gentleness, Erza could help but smile.

She found herself drawn back to his eyes. While she was admiring him, she and Lucy had been walking closer, nearing him. At this close of a distance, she found out that his eyes weren't completely green. They were the color of a forest, deep green mixed in with brown, the like the trunks of tree peeking through the masses of leaves. When the light of the sun hit him, the bits of gold sparkled in his eyes.

He looked sad, and hopeful at the same time, if such a thing was possible. Erza found herself drawn to him, wanting to reach out and brush his hand, cup his cheek in her palm. Immediately upon thinking these thoughts, she flushed red, and looked away.

"I think they're prisoners," Lucy whispered to her as they walked past. "Look. The bluenette has shackles on his wrists."

Erza felt her eyes betray her and she looked over at the bluenette once more, despite the blush evident on her cheeks. What she saw on his wrists were two manacle-like bracelets, which were chafing his skin. It looked painful, and Erza bit her lip.

His eyes flickered over to meet hers, and they widened upon catching sight of her. There was a flicker of life in those lifeless eyes, like a renewal of the soul. Like a bird caught in a cage, it fluttered there, weak and barely hanging on.

It was a flicker of hope, of yearning for something thought to be lost.

"They look...forlorn," Lucy said, her eyes following a big blonde man with a scar on his right eye. "Alone and hopeless, like they've lost their fight."

Erza nodded. "Like a candle in a hurricane." Her words were true to the prisoners standing in the yard, six of them. True to all but one.

He began to walk after a guard yelled at him to "move your ass, Fernandes! We haven't got all day!"

Fernandes. So his name was Fernandes.

Erza doubted it was his first name. She figured it was something elegant and unique, just like him. He was a demigod in her eyes, blessed by the heavenly beings themselves.

She and Lucy walked out of the courtyard, and she couldn't resist looking over her shoulder one more time to look at him.

Her eyes met his forest ones, and she saw his lips lift in a faint smile before he disappeared from view.

* * *

She waited three more days before she saw him again.

In those three, long, agonizingly slow days, it snowed, a ceaseless, unrelenting snow that laid several inches on the ground and left a bitter chill in the air. Erza woke up each day with her breath billowing out in front of her in thick, white clouds. She shivered each time and brought her blanket closer to her body, wrapping her shoulders in the brown coverlet and cocooning herself.

On the third day she woke up in the same routine: her breath fogging in the chilly air, and hugging the blanket closer to herself. She looked out her window and noticed the snow had stopped, coating everything outside in a sparkling blanket of virgin snow. The sky above remained bleak and sunless, the clouds overcast and murky. Erza could hear the wind whistling through the thin walls of her room, a faint screeching sound that reminded her of a ghost's eerie wail. She shivered, more creeped out by her thoughts rather than the cold.

She slipped out of bed and stumbled past the sleeping Lucy, who was nestled in her blankets and looked like a slumbering dormouse sleeping amidst a nest of blankets.

Erza tiptoed quietly past her friend and opened the door to their shared room, walking out into the servant common room. It was about seven in the morning, and there were several people gathered, none that Erza shared acquaintances with.

She sat down on worn out cushion chair and sighed. She stretched, extending her arms out behind her and arching her back in a graceful, catlike motion. She was still wearing her nightshirt and bed pants, but she didn't care.

"Erza Scarlet?" a voice said, and she looked up, dropping her arms and relaxing her position. She blinked, looking into the face of a young woman with jet black hair. She had tied a white cloth around her head, the bow sticking out on the top of her head. She wore a white shirt tucked into a black skirt, and a loose tie circled her neck.

She looked Erza up and down with a careful scrutiny, as if looking for flaws. Erza stared back at her evenly, unflinchingly.

"That would be my name," she said in a quiet voice.

The black haired young woman ran a hand through her long black hair. "Kagura Mikazuchi. Princess Minerva's head servant. The lady wants you in her bed chambers. Now."

Erza sighed and stood up. "As in, right now?" she muttered.

Kagura nodded. "I'd hurry if I were you," she said with gritted teeth. "The lady does not like being displeased. You should go now, before she becomes impatient."

"Right," Erza said dryly. "Let me just fly up to her. Oh wait," Erza pantomimed searching her pockets and coming up empty, "I forgot my fairy dust today. Guess I'll have to walk, like _every other human on this planet."_

Kagura smirked. "I'll tell the princess you said that." The threat in her voice was light, like even she didn't back herself up.

Erza turned on her heels and stormed back to her room. "You do that," she shot over her shoulder. "Tell the lady Minerva that I'm only human, after all."

Before the dark haired woman could respond, Erza was already slamming the door behind her with a brutal force, her hands flat against the wood and her chest heaving with anger.

"Blue Bloods," she hissed under her breath. "They're all the same."

"What are you complaining about now, Scarlet?" she heard Lucy's sleepy voice mumble, and the redhead turned to see the blonde sit up, the blankets falling around her. The blonde's hair was a mess- as it usually was in the morning- and she was rubbing her eyes, yawning all the while. Her nightshirt hung off one shoulder, but the blonde didn't seem to notice.

The redhead sighed and went to her small dresser that she and Lucy shared, opening the creaky wooden drawers and pulling out a pair of trousers and a shirt. "The witch beckons," she said, pulling her nightshirt over her head and tossing onto her unmade cot.

Lucy sat up straight, fully awake. "Why does she want you this early? It's Sunday, for crying out loud. Can't the princess sleep in, like a normal person?"

Erza shrugged. "Who knows? But I have to go now, otherwise "the lady does not like being displeased." She'll throw a fit and who knows what else."

Lucy got out of bed and looked out the window. "Well, if she makes you go outside, be sure to dress warmly," the blonde said, going to the foot of her bed and picking up a long piece of clothing. She offered the vestment to Erza, giving the redhead a smile. "Here. Borrow my cloak, lest you freeze to death. I don't want to find you later as a statue of ice."

Erza smiled and took the cloak, draping it over her arm. She hugged Lucy in gratitude. "Thanks, Lucy," she murmured, before pulling away. The she looked at the door. "Gotta go, before the lady gets mad."

Lucy smiled. "Go." The blonde shooed the redhead away. "I'll see you later."

* * *

"I'm throwing a birthday ball for my brother in a few days," Princess Minerva said, lounging on her bed while Erza bent respectfully in front of her. "I need more flowers to decorate the throne room. Are there anymore in the greenhouse?"

"Why of course, your majesty," Erza grumbled.

Minerva smiled and stretched languishly, the sequins on her golden dress glinting in the light. She reached to the side and picked up a glass off her bed table, bringing it to her wine red lips and taking a hearty sip.

"Go and cut more for me," Minerva said after she finished swallowing. "I need them to fill seven vases, and I only want red flowers, those red roses in particular. You hear me?"

"Yes," Erza muttered.

Minerva glared down at the redhead. ""Yes" what?" she said, the veil of a threat evident in her voice.

"Yes, my lady," Erza said, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth. She had the urge to get up and strangle the woman, but refrained from doing so.

There was a shuffling sound as bedsheets were moved, and then the soft padding of quiet footsteps that grew louder as they approached. Erza braced herself.

A finger found it's way to Erza's chin, forcing the redhead's face upwards. She blinked into the harsh light as Minerva's face came into focus, a malicious glint in her poisonous green eyes.

"I said that I'd break you," the princess hissed. Her hand curled around Erza's cheeks, her nails digging into the skin. "It all depends on how you'd like to be broken. You can break hard, or you can break easy, Erza Scarlet. It is entirely up to you."

She let go of Erza's face and pushed the redhead away so that she sprawled on the ground. Erza shook herself, trying to get up, only to cry out as Minerva stomped her foot down on Erza's hand.

"I wasn't done talking yet," the princess cooed. Erza looked up at her through her bangs, her eyes narrowed in hatred.

"You could pass for nobility with those looks of yours," Minerva continued, gazing down at the redhead. "If I were to dress you in fine silks and chiffon, maybe lace, you could pass as a princess."

She stepped off of Erza's hand. "But you're not. And so you shall remain as a pitiful serving girl, with only rags and grime to her name."

She turned her back. "Go now, Erza Scarlet, and do my bidding. Elsewise, there will be consequences."

* * *

"How are you faring, my beautiful sister?"

Minerva turned her elegant head and smiled serenely at the man standing in the doorway. His blonde hair was brushed back and tied in a loose ponytail, and he wore a pair of dark trousers tucked into boots. His white button down shirt hung open, exposing the smooth skin of his chest.

"You look pleased, my brother. Did my present to you do her job well?" Minerva said, getting up from her chair and walking over to the blonde.

Prince Rufus chuckled darkly. The memory of the slave woman was still fresh in his mind, and he could still hear her moans of pleasure if he concentrated hard enough.

"She was wonderful," he purred, taking Minerva's hand. "But you know, my sister, I require something that gives me more of a fight."

"I require a challenge."

She kissed his cheek, her hands running through his long blonde hair. "I know, I know," she murmured. "I do have another for you, but she requires a bit more work on my part before I hand her over to you," she whispered, pressing her lips against his ear.

He pulled away from her and kissed her forehead. "This is why you are my beloved sister. You are the only person who truly knows me, and for that, I thank you."

She chuckled and turned around, settling back in her chair. "My dearest brother," she said, making herself comfortable. "I do love making sure you are happy, but could you do the same for me?"

He bowed. "What would my lady want that would please her? A new horse? More servants? Please, sister, you only need to ask, and you shall receive."

She ran a finger down her chin, past her neck, until it came to rest under her navel. "I want something stimulating. Something pleasurable."

His eyes glittered and narrowed in interest. "And this something would be?"

She smiled. "I want the finest of men, who can please me in every way possible?"

Rufus scratched his head. "There are many male consorts who would die to have the pleasure of becoming yours-"

"I will choose who I want," Minerva interrupted. "Then you will give him to me, no matter who he is. Can you do that for me, brother? In return, I will give you the finest beauty. I can tell you that when I have tamed her fiery spirit, she will provide you with every pleasure known to man."

"Why must she be tamed?"

"She needs her spirit reined in otherwise she will never bow to our wills. And she is my servant, and rightfully mine to be broken. But don't worry, my dear brother," she said, smiling, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"When she is subdued, you can do whatever you want to her."

His eyes glittered with anticipation. "May I ask you her name?" he asked, nearly begging. His thirst for knowledge was almost palpable, nearly dripping off his person.

She thought for a minute. "The fire in her eyes is reflected off her vermillion hair," she murmured. "She is Scarlet."

Prince Rufus smiled, an eerie smile that could frighten even the most bravest of souls. "Scarlet," he purred. "What a wonderful name. I will remember it, surely I will."

* * *

The subtle sounds of crunching snow alerted Erza even before she opened the courtyard door. Her eyes narrowed, she wondered who else could possibly be outside on such a cold and desolate winter day.

The door opened, and Erza blinked, her eyes widening with surprise. The basket in her hand dropped to land in the snow, yet she did not bend down to retrieve it. Her eyes and her attention were drawn to the man standing before her.

He wore the same clothes as before, as well as the shackles on his wrists. The only difference in his appearance was a pair of boots on his feet and a ratty jacket covering his torso.

He stood with two other men. One had maroon hair, while the other had dark blue hair. Each man was working quietly in their own corner of the courtyard, each equipped with a shovel.

The bluenette that captured Erza's attention, Fernandes, was working near the greenhouse. His arms moved tirelessly, despite the dark circles of fatigue around his forest eyes. He didn't notice Erza, for he had his back to her. His shaggy blue hair stood out in the gray light of winter, a startling contrast against the dismal light.

There was a guard standing off to the side, his eyes narrowed as he watched the three men working. His right hand rested on his gun holster, while the other gripped a spear, the handle of the weapon sticking in the snow.

Erza shook herself, and bent down, picking up her basket. Hurriedly, she walked over to the guard and asked if it was alright to walk through the courtyard to the greenhouse.

"Don't be scared miss," the guard said with a smirk. He gestured to the men working in the courtyard. "They can't harm ya. If they tried, I'd put a bullet through their heads before they even laid a finger on you."

Erza wasn't asking out of fear. She wasn't scared of men, and she could certainly hold her own against one.

This is how stupid some men are, she thought angrily to herself as she walked through the courtyard. Not all women are sniveling cowards that hide behind men.

As she passed the bluenette, a shiver ran through him. He froze in his work, and stopped shoveling. Erza's breath caught in her throat as he turned, those forest eyes landing on her and freezing her in her tracks.

He was so beautiful.

She wondered if sculptors who made marble statues had used him as their inspiration. His chiseled face and handsome looks set him apart from other men.

Erza lowered her gaze and opened the door to the greenhouse, flushing from the bluenette's stare. Once inside, she slammed the door and heaved a deep breath, smelling the warm scent of dirt and plants.

She looked around, smiling as she saw all the flowers blooming. She was automatically drawn to a morning glory the color of _his _hair, a deep azure that reminded Erza of a clear summer sky.

The bed of red roses was next to the morning glory. The flowers were deep ruby red, a scarlet color for which Erza had been named. The flower heads were many in number, Erza noted. Minerva would be pleased.

Erza bent down, picking up the clippers as she went, and started cutting roses. This task was quick and simple, and she much preferred doing this than cooking in the kitchen, or cleaning the many rooms in the palace.

A cold breeze alerted her, and she turned, her eyes narrowed. There must be a hole in the wall, she thought to herself. She looked around, trying to spot the break. She stood still and let the wind rush past her, trying to feel where it was coming from.

She turned in a particular direction and found the hole. It was about eye height, and was the size of her head. She frowned, walking towards it. What the hell made this? she wondered.

Her question was answered as soon as she was a foot away from the break. She stepped forward, and was splashed with something cold. With a small yelp, she jumped back, and noticed the puddle of water on the ground. In it floated chunks of what was unmistakably ice.

So that was what did this, she thought. It must've been flung by the wind and broke through the plastic.

The greenhouse was made of an insulated plastic cover, which kept the cold out and the heat inside. Even though it was protective against the harshness outside, it didn't protect against flying ice, as Erza so found out.

She crept closer. She could see outside, and she narrowed her eyes. She saw the castle wall, mounds of snow, and then something else. Her eyes widened, and she gasped.

Standing before her, oblivious to her presence, was the Fernandes man. He seemed to be taking a break, leaning against his shovel and sipping out of a flask. His hair was drenched in sweat, and his face glistened. Erza could see his chest heaving and see the tremor in his arms as he lifted the flask to his lips.

She coughed, and he froze, the muscles in his throat stopping him from swallowing. He lowered the flask, and turned, his eyes meeting hers.

Immediately, Erza blushed, the crimson flush spreading on her cheeks and warming her face. His handsome face was mesmerizing, catching the redhead in a trance.

She cleared her throat. "What-" she broke off as her throat became dry. She cleared it again, the heat in her face rising. "What's your name?"

He looked at her with a fascination, as if she were the only woman he'd ever see. His eyes searched her face, as if trying to find deception written somewhere in her features. He found none, only honest curiosity.

Erza waited with bated breath for him to speak. He swallowed, his eyes never leaving her face as he screwed the cap back onto his flask and let it drop to the ground.

"My name?" he whispered, in a deep, velvety voice. It was a handsome sound, baritone and smooth, captivating and alluring. "Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "I'm curious." His voice resonated within her, and she yearned to hear it again.

A faint smile appeared on his lips, and to Erza, it was as brilliant as the sun. He looked around quickly, as if searching for the guard. After a minute, he turned back to her.

"Jellal," He said quietly. "My name is Jellal Fernandes."

* * *

**A/N: This was a fun chapter to write, and I think it was because describing Jellal is always my favorite. He is my favorite character in Fairy Tail, and I don't understand why there can't be a real life guy like him. Honestly, he is like the epitome of perfection. At least, in my eyes.**

**Alright, that's enough of my ramble. As I said earlier, enjoy the new year!**

**-Wolf**


	5. A Matter of Perspective

**A/N: I've given up trying to give creative excuses for my late updates, because I have no veritable reason for my lateness.**

**thanks for reviewing, favoriting, and following. Much appreciated guys, and please, don't stop!**

* * *

**Chapter five: A Matter of Perspective**

When she spoke, it was like angels were heralding the arrival of the gods. When she spoke, it was like a beautiful summer's day, full of light and warmth. When she spoke, Jellal forgot all sense of time. It was as if everything stopped, and the two of them were transported to their own different world. There was no winter, there was no war. He was not a prisoner of Pergrande, and she was not a servant. They simply were.

"My name?" he whispered, his voice deep and slow, as if words were foreign to him. "Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "I'm curious," were the next words out of her mouth, and Jellal was captivated by the deep richness in her velvety voice. It was like chocolate, rich and smooth, sweet and mysterious. Jellal longed to hear it again.

"Jellal," he said quietly, after looking around to make sure the guard wasn't looking. "My name is Jellal Fernandes."

He heard her intake of breath, and saw the glimmer of interest in her warm brown eyes. "I thought so..." he heard her breathe.

He frowned, and leaned on his shovel, balling his fists and shoving them in his armpits to keep them warm. "What do you mean? And last I remember, it's only kind to give me your name, as I have given mine." He murmured quietly, intentionally keeping his voice hushed, lest the guard overheard.

"Erza," she said. "My name is Erza Scarlet. And as for your question, I said I thought so. When I saw you the other day in the courtyard, I wondered what your name was. I figured it was a name of greatness, and I wasn't mistaken. The name, "Jellal" means greatness, superiority, renowned. It suits you."

Jellal was warmed by her words, and if not a little proud. What man wouldn't be when an attractive woman compliments them.

"Erza Scarlet," Jellal mused, eyeing her bright red hair. It was such a profound shade of scarlet, the type of crimson that reminded him of fire. "That name suits you."

She blushed, her cheeks turning a pale pink, like the color of a ripe peach. She looked away, breaking their eye contact. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"No, really," Jellal pursued, taking another look around to make sure he was safe from prying eyes. "Scarlet. That way I'll never forget."

Those words seemed to linger with Erza, and she turned her magnificent gaze on Jellal once more. Her piercing eyes sent a shiver racing down Jellal's spine, and he met her stare evenly.

"That's an interesting tattoo," she said after a moment of pure, unadulterated silence. "How'd you come to have it?"

His hand came up to touch the side of his face. "I don't know. I was born with it, and I never got a chance to ask my parents."

She frowned. "Why is that?" she asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.

He sighed. Talking about family had always been a hard task to overcome. For years, he buried their memory beneath layers and layers of guilt and regret. He became a bit of a drinker from time to time, thinking that he could drink his sorrows away. But it never worked.

"I enlisted in the army to get away from my family," he explained, keeping a wary eye on the guard, who seemed to be drowsing off. "My father, Siegrain, died several years beforehand, leaving me as the patriarch.

"But I didn't want to be. I was only around thirteen when he died. I didn't want the responsibility of taking care of my family. My mother was penniless, and my sister was only a few years old at the time."

He looked away. "So I enlisted to run away from my family. In a way, I feel like that was the right thing to do, since I never became the man of the house my family so desperately needed."

Erza Scarlet bit her lip, which Jellal found to be incredibly endearing. She got a faraway look in her eyes and her cheeks puffed out a bit like a fish. Jellal smiled at the thought.

"Fernandes!" a voice yelled, causing the two to jump in fear. Jellal turned, his eyes narrowing as the guard strode over, an angry look on his face.

Erza felt a wave of fear wash over her, not for herself, but for Jellal. He was a prisoner of Pergrande, and he shouldn't have been talking to her in the first place.

"Follow my lead," she heard him breathe out. He hadn't turned to her, but kept his body facing the direction of the fuming guard.

"Fernandes," the guard said, stopping right in front of Jellal. "What the hell are you doing?"

"A piece of ice flew down from the wall and tore through the greenhouse while this lady was cutting flowers inside," Jellal lied smoothly, the falsity slipping off his tongue, as smooth as wine. "I was simply investigating."

"The guard looked on with narrowed eyes, which slid over to meet Erza's. She gulped and stared evenly into his dark beady eyes, which, along with his scrunched up nose and mousy hair, made him look like a weasel. "Is this man correct?" The soldier asked her gruffly.

Erza found it extremely hilarious that the soldier was conducting an investigation through a hole in the wall. But she bit her lip to keep her laughter at bay, and said in a clear voice, "Yes sir."

Behind the guard, Jellal nodded discreetly, giving her a thumbs up.

The soldier narrowed his eyes, turning back to Jellal. "Get back to work, Fernandes," he snarled. The threatening tone in his voice seemed rather tinny compared to his large bulk, and Jellal glared at him tiredly. At any other point in life, when he was well fed and in shape, Jellal would have knocked this man down in a heartbeat. Now, it was all he could do to nod wearily and pick up his shovel.

The soldier glared at Erza, who hurriedly picked her roses and shoved them in her apron. With the soldier's eyes upon her, she rushed out of the greenhouse and raced across the courtyard, her long red hair flying out behind her. It reminded Jellal of fire again, like tongues of flames snapping and reaching up into the sky, growing stronger as it sucked in more air.

"Work," the soldier said again, gripping his gun. His dark eyes burned into Jellal's back as the bluenette picked up his shovel and began to move snow, this time with less energy. His eyes darted back to the courtyard doors, where he had seen Erza disappear.

I didn't even get to tell her about the rose, he thought. Resigning himself to that fate, he picked up another pile of snow, tossing it over his shoulder. Now that he had stopped to chat with the red haired woman, his body had chilled substantially enough so that he shivered constantly. His fingers became numb, and his breath billowed out in front of him like flat, gray clouds.

He longed for warmth. He wanted to snuggle up in front of a fire, a mug of steaming cider in his hands. He would even do with a blanket.

And then he thought of Erza's words. "_The name, "Jellal" means greatness, superiority, renowned. It suits you."_

And that thought warmed his bones and heated his blood once more. He hummed a forgotten melody underneath his breath, and wondered when he'd see the scarlet beauty again.

* * *

Minerva liked power. She also liked her men to do what they were told, and not fight her words. That was why so many of the men she courted ended up at the executioner's block. None of them would bend to her will.

But she also didn't mind a challenge. If a man interested her, she didn't mind playing a game of tame and master, and break the man's will. After all, it was a game that she'd always win.

She looked out her window, watching the prisoners toil away in the courtyard. There wasn't a large amount of snow on the ground, but it made up for amount in density. The snow was wet and heavy, making the work even more arduous than it already was.

Two of the prisoners were already slacking, their limbs shaking with fatigue. Minerva narrowed her eyes as she saw them weaken, stopping to catch frequent breaks to catch their breath.

Only one continued his work. Even under the strain and the harsh bitterness from the cold, he worked tirelessly, staying focused on the task at hand.

He had dark blue hair. Minerva could not make out detailed features, but she thought she saw something that looked like a red smudge on his face. Blood maybe, from from a cut? Birthmark?

Whatever It was, it intrigued the princess. She could already make out his muscular body, which looked just a tad frail, but she liked what she saw. A little bit of pampering and he'd fill out nicely.

He seemed to have spirit, judging from the way he worked effortlessly while his fellow inmates dropped like flies. There was no doubt that that strong body contained a strong spirit, which Minerva longed to own for herself.

She remembered that he was one of Rufus's POWs. She also remembered that Rufus had promised her any man she so desired.

She licked her lips. Her eyes stayed glued onto the figure of the blue haired man while she summoned a mid to her bedchambers. When the servant did arrive, her eyes remained fixed on her prize.

"Bring me prince Rufus," she breathed out. "I have found what I desire."

She had no doubt that he'd be a bit hard to break, but for him, she'd play. A man like him was hard to come around, and she'd find pleasure in breaking his spirit, which was hers to tame.

* * *

Jellal reclined against the wall in his cell, staring at the meager meal in front of him, consisting of a piece of bread, a hunk of moldy cheese, and a tin of water. He didn't feel the urge to eat, or drink. He had had water while working, but for some reason, he didn't have an appetite, even after all his hard work.

His mind was still on the fiery redhead. He eyed the rose, which was now limp and dull, laying by his cot. Despite it's lack of vivacity, he could still smell the sweet aroma of the flower, which was strong and alluring, just like a certain scarlet woman.

She reminded him of an old friend from long ago, a young woman named Ultear Milkovich. They looked nothing alike, while Erza was fire, Ultear was night, but they possessed the same strong spirit, they had the same fire in their eyes. Ultear had ultimately joined the navy and was killed at sea, sunk by an enemy torpedo. She had had a chance to escape her ship before it went down, as senior commander, but she had refused to leave her comrades.

Jellal had felt the loss of Ultear's absence the most. They had been childhood friends, and she had helped him get past the loss of his father. They had never been close like lovers, but they had shared an intimate bond of close, co-ed friends.

She had also left behind a young girl, named Meredy. Her father had been a soldier in the army who was killed in action. Meredy had been raised by Ultear's mother, Ul. In a way, Jellal had blamed the young girl for his friend's death, because if Ultear had never met the man, then she would have never enlisted and gotten herself killed.

But he was also glad that Ultear's daughter was around him. She provided a living proof that Ultear's memory was real, and her legacy continued on. Jellal, in lieu of his prior reasons to enlist, also felt the need to continue protecting Ultear's remaining heir. It was for those two reasons that he enlisted: to run away from his family duties, and to protect his best friend's honor as a soldier.

When he first enlisted in the army, he had felt guilty of abandoning his family. Wendy was so young then, and his mother was always weak and tired from working hard to support the family. Jellal should've helped out, but he was young and foolish, too stupid to realize how important it was to help support his family.

Once he was a few months into training did he realize. He began to send all of his wages to his mother, with little letters telling her what to buy. Sometimes he bought them food, or other necessities, like soap. It was his way of saying, "I'm sorry for the past. Here's hope we can have a better future."

Ultear had taught him that. They had had many fights when they were young, over reasons that Jellal had forgotten over time. There had been long periods when they didn't talk at all, and one fight ended with a shiner across Jellal's cheek and tears pooling in Ultear's eyes.

But every time they fought, Ultear would come up to him at a later time with a bowl of strawberries (his favorite) and a tentative smile on her face.

"_The past is the past," _She would say, giving him the fruit as a peace offering. "_Here's hope we can have a better future."_

Jellal used her words as a means to live everyday.

He blinked, suddenly noticing the streaks of wetness dripping down his cheeks. He put a hand to his face and touched his cheeks. They came back wet, and Jellal came to the realization that he was crying.

It's a waste, he thought bitterly, trying to dash away his tears, but no avail. There's no use mourning over things already gone.

He wasn't even sure who he was crying about: Ultear's tragic death, or the untimely massacre of his mother and sister and village. He wasn't proud for crying. A man shouldn't cry, not a man like him. He had always been prone to keeping his emotions held on a tight leash. He never told anyone how he felt, or what he was thinking. When in the army, he was given the nickname, "Mystogan," as an alias for his mysterious and quiet being.

His ankle chain rattled as he suddenly shifted on the cold cement floor. He glared at it angrily. What was the point in chaining him when he was completely shackle-free in the courtyard? He was being held prisoner in a giant fortress, in the middle of the largest and most powerful kingdom in Earthland. Even if he somehow escaped the giant citadel, he wouldn't make it two miles past the ramparts before he'd be captured once more.

"Jellal," he suddenly heard a voice whisper.

There was a familiarity when the voice said his name, as if they already knew him. With a start, he looked up, meeting a pair of dark blue eyes peeping out from a soldier's helmet. The man standing before him placed his hands on the bars of Jellal's cell, staring intently at the prisoner.

"How do you know my name?" Jellal hissed quietly, leaning forward, an intent look of concentration upon his face.

The blue eyed man- Jellal assumed it was a man from the deep tones of the voice- chuckled, and lifted his visor. "Well I think a long time friend should know your name, shouldn't I?" came the unmistakable voice of Gray Fullbuster, who was Jellal's bunkmate in the Army Reserves before they were deployed. Jellal's eyes widened as he took in his friend. He recognized the spiky black hair and the familiar scar above his left eye. The man grinned wickedly at Jellal, a cocky smile that was achingly familiar.

"Well, well, well," Gray Fullbuster said lazily. "You seem to have gotten yourself in quite a predicament, my friend."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jellal hissed. "Why are you wearing a guard's armor? Did you defect over to Pergrande now? Have you gone rogue?"

Gray looked around quickly, his eyes darting down the dim hallway to make sure they were alone. "Not quite," he said once he deemed the coast to be clear. "They sent me and a friend out on our own solo mission."

"Solo mission?" Jellal echoed. "Who's they?" He still wasn't quite sure if Gray was telling the truth- it had been a few years since he'd last seen his bunkmate- but they had been close friends in the time they shared together.

Gray leaned in. "I was sent by Rogue to get you out of here." he said, his eyes bright with warmth. He cracked another grin. "Come on. Did you really think Rogue of all people would abandon you out here?"

"He should have," Jellal grumbled, a bit confused. Things had suddenly gotten climatic, and his brain wasn't handling it very well. "You should leave."

Gray's eyes narrowed. "No," he said icily. "I'm not going anywhere until I bring back the true hero of the battle for Seven."

Jellal froze. "What did you say?" His words stuck in his throat and he had trouble swallowing. He stared at his friend with wide eyes, working his jaw as old memories came flooding back.

"Rogue told me everything," Gray murmured. "He told me that you were the one who won the battle. You were the one who planned the ambush at the ravine, and you were the one, not Rogue, that led them on the trail to the gorge, and how you sent three hundred men falling into the chasm."

Jellal could feel himself tumbling through his memories, which he had buried inside his mind. Now, they were coming back to life, in full force.

"_Rogue!" Jellal cried out after their major fell. He raced past the black haired lieutenant, startling him._

"_Jellal?" he asked, reloading his gun with quick efficiency, his fingers nimble and fast._

_Jellal leapt up onto the major's horse, a deep gray and silver animal with a noble face and a broad chest. The animal was prancing and running amuck after it's master had been shot, but it quieted down after Jellal said a few soothing words to the creature._

_Jellal turned the animal's head around. The battle roared around him, but to him, the world seemed empty except for him, the horse, and his friend and comrade, Rogue Cheney._

"_Rally the men," Jellal shouted angrily, yanking out his pistol from the holster on his belt. "I'm commander now, as senior officer. Do as I say, friend." Jellal was First Lieutenant, and he was under strict orders to take command if their senior commander, the major, was killed in battle._

_Rogue whipped around, shooting a Pergrande enemy point blank. Blood sprayed everywhere, splattering the dark haired man, who didn't even flinch._

"_Rally them?" Rogue asked, dodging writhing bodies to worm his way over to Jellal's side. "For what?"_

_Jellal pointed his gun in the direction of the canyon about two miles southeast. Rogue narrowed his eyes. "Is that..." he began shakily. Jellal then noticed the blood dripping down his friend's arm, possibly from a bullet. His heart pounded, but he kept his emotions under control._

"_Yes," he said, wheeling the horse around. "Get the men there. After that, do what your gut tells you."_

"_What about you?"_

_Jellal tipped his head to his friend. "I'll figure it out," he murmured sadly, kicking the animal and sending it hurtling forward, straight towards the bulk of the Pergrande Army. His mission was a suicidal one at best, but at this point, it was the only thing left on the table. And Jellal just played his final hand._

_He hefted his gun, slipping his finger on the trigger. Around him, lone Pergrande warriors began to converge on him, trying to intercept the rogue Fiorian soldier before he made it to the back of the Pergrande Army, where their head general sat in command._

_He howled in pain when a bullet smashed into his right shoulder, tearing through his body to exit out over his left shoulder bone. Underneath him, the horse whinnied and screamed in pain as soldiers swiped at it's flanks, but under Jellal's command, it kept racing forward._

_With a yell of pain and anger, Jellal leaned forward, encouraging the horse to leap over the few remaining soldiers blocking him from his goal. The animal complied, a deep rumble echoing deep from it's barrel chest._

_The horse landed, and the head general, a white bearded man, looked up from his war desk_

_His dark eyes widened, and his hand reached for his gun, which was lying unused on the desk next to him. Jellal saw this hand movement and aimed, his barrel pointing at the face of the wrinkled general._

_Jellal whispered a small prayer for the man's soul, then pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang, and Jellal's arm jolted from the release, but he held firm. The general gasped, feeling the insidious bullet enter his chest, tearing through the upper chamber of his heart. With a spurt of blood, the bullet exited out of his body, and the general collapsed._

_There were outraged cries of anguish and rage. Jellal felt a smile upon his lips, and he harshly kicked his horse forward. The animal snorted, eyes rolling, mouth foaming from labor. The animal jerked forward, jumping smoothly over the general's desk. Jellal caught a glimpse of the dead man's face as he soared over him: slack jaw, eyes wide and staring blankly into nothingness. He felt a pang of regret echo in his chest, but he shook off the feeling. There was no other choice, enemies had to die._

_A wave of Pergrande soldiers surged towards him, all intent on one thing: revenge. Jellal had murdered their commanding officer, and now there was hell to follow. But that was what Jellal had intended on happening._

_With a loud shout, he pointed his gun into the air, letting off a shot. It rang across the battlefield, and a wind whistled through the ranks of fighting men. A stillness seemed to follow, as every Pergrande soldier turned Jellal into a target._

_His horse galloped smoothly across the field, muscles stretching and moving solidly underneath it's short gray coat. Jellal leaned low over it's neck, his eyes fixed on a certain point in the distance._

_He turned and looked behind him. The Pergrande soldiers were all leaving their individual fights to surge after him as one, bloodlust alive in their murderous eyes. Beyond that, Jellal thought he could make out the dark figure of Rogue rallying their forces, getting them to all converge at a single spot._

_Now we have a chance, Jellal thought with a satisfied expression. He turned in his saddle and focused back on the topic at hand._

_He heard the faint sound of hoofbeats following him, and knew that the Pergrande cavalrymen were on his heels. He gritted his teeth, feeling his horse's breath under his legs. The animal was tiring, but it was doing it's best to keep up it's strength._

"_Come on boy," Jellal whispered, patting it's neck. "Just a little farther."_

_They were nearing the gorge now, and Jellal could hear the faint roaring of rapids up ahead. His horse whinnied in terror as the cliffs came into view, and tried to shy away, but Jellal kept a firm grip on the reins._

_He turned for the last time, trying to calculate how many soldiers were on his tail. He estimated about two hundred were following him, seventy of them on horseback, at least. They were close, coming upon him fast. If he slowed down, they'd be on him within seconds._

_He turned back, eyeing the steep canyon. A twinge of fear swept through him, but, unlike most men, he accepted it with open arms. Fear was something that couldn't be tamed, and it wasn't something that you could bury away. Fear was something that had to be accepted and welcomed. Getting rid of fear was impossible, but surmounting it wasn't._

_He took in a deep breath, and kicked his horse forward. The animal screamed in terror, but at this point, it's momentum wouldn't have allowed anything else to occur. As the horse galloped straight over the edge of the ravine, Jellal whispered two words, "Mother," and "Wendy."_

_Behind him, there were shouts of terror and screams of intense fear. But nothing could stop them from careening over the edge to join Jellal in his mad dash of suicide._

_With the roaring of the water and the screams of his horse filling his ears, Jellal closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the watery depths of the unknown. As he hit the water, his last thought was of Rogue. It's up to you now, my friend, he thought, before his consciousness faded and drifted out to merge with the river's darkness._

_That day, Fiore won it's first decisive victory against Pergrande, and First Lieutenant Jellal was dragged out of the river, his silver and gray horse following close at heel. It was also, on that fateful day, that Rogue Cheney found himself promoted to a one star general, as the mastermind behind the fall of Pergrande's army into the chasm._

_No one stopped to think about Jellal Fernandes's part in the plan, as the true genius behind it all. Rogue Cheney tried to protest, but no one would listen._

_So while one man rose to power and fame, the other sank into his comrade's shadow, his deeds forgotten in all but one man's memory._

Or now, it would seem to be many men's memories that held the story of Jellal Fernandes and his victory in Seven. Jellal looked at Gray, who stared back at him with respect shining in his deep blue eyes. There was no hint of deceit in his eyes or written on his face, just a sincere look of awe and high regard.

"I'm getting you out of here," Gray hissed. "My other man, Natsu Dragneel, has infiltrated the castle as an ambassador from one of Pergrande's smaller allies. We intercepted the real one a few days ago, and since the Pergrande Royals don't know what he looks like, we thought this was a perfect opportunity to pull some strings."

Gray smirked. "We're about to kill two birds with one stone. Save the real hero of the war and get intel on Pergrande's next movements."

Jellal leaned forward, opening his mouth, when the sound of a door alerted him. Gray, too, heard the sound, and his head whipped around, eyes narrowing, nose flaring.

He turned back to Jellal, and put a finger to his lips. "They don't quite trust me, I'm afraid," the dark haired man whispered. "So you'll have to forgive me from running out on you like this. I'll keep in touch, one way or another."

"Gray-" Jellal began, his chains clanking as he surged forward, trying to catch his friend's attention, but Gray Fullbuster had slipped quietly away, his dark form blending in with the shadows of the dungeon. He left Jellal clinging at the bars of his cell, staring out into the darkness.

The subtle sounds of footsteps gained his attention once more, and he turned his head, narrowing his eyes as his guard sauntered up to him, a lazy expression on his face. He had, in his right hand, a pair of steel handcuffs, and he was currently twirling them around his index finger.

He walked straight up to Jellal's cell. "You have an appointment," the guard sneered, unlocking the door to Jellal's hold and stepping in. Jellal scrambled to his feet warily and looked at the guard carefully.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his voice quiet and contained despite the turmoil in his head.

The guard simply shook his head and grabbed Jellal, turning the bluenette around and throwing him against the wall of his prison. Jellal winced as his arms were wrenched behind his back with a brutal force, and hissed when the guard threw the handcuffs on, pinching the sensitive skin of Jellal's wrists.

The guard unlocked Jellal's ankle chains, letting them clank to the floor. He stood and grasped Jellal roughly by the arms, forcing the bluenette to walk out of his prison. "Let's go," the guard said angrily, shoving him forward. Jellal just barely managed to catch himself before falling onto the cold stone floor.

He walked forward hesitantly. He had taken his shirt off before, after getting in from the manual labor, and had used it as a pillow for his nap while he waited for his meal. Now, in the cool air of the castle halls, he shivered, longing for it's ratty, yet surprising, warmth.

He was led up several staircases, down winding halls, and through large reception rooms. The sheer amount of wealth and prosperity shocked him, and then made him angry. A country like Pergrande did not need to expand its borders when it had this much finery. Their acts of violence against other nations was inexcusable, and Jellal felt the fires of hatred and animosity towards the country flickering to life within his chest.

He was stopped before two golden doors, the stunning design on their faces floored Jellal. It depicted a rich scene of a god, garbed in robes of the clearest white. The god had a stern look on his face, and he had a golden goblet in one hand. On his head rested a wreath of laurels.

The guard reached around Jellal's side and grasped the heavy wooden knocker on the door. The sound resonated through the wood, making a deep booming sound that echoed into Jellal's very bones. It was a powerful, rich, and deep sound. Jellal's eyes locked with the god's, and, even though they were simply paint, he felt the urge to shiver. They seemed to be staring into Jellal's soul.

There was a faint "Enter," and Jellal's ears barely heard it. It came to fast and was gone to quickly for him to tell if it was male or female, but he supposed that didn't matter. He was more curious as to who it was that wanted to meet with him. Their gender, he could wait a few more heartbeats to find out.

The guard pushed open the door, letting a bright light shine through. Jellal squinted, trying in vain to block his eyes from the sudden glare, which contrasted with the dimness of the dungeons he had grown accustomed to.

The guard pushed Jellal forward. The bluenette was caught off guard and stumbled forward, losing his balance and crashing to his knees. They hit plush carpet, cushioning his fall, so when he landed, he barely felt any pain, just a dull throbbing as his legs hit the floor.

He blinked, looking up, shaking his head to sweep the hair out of his eyes. When he did, his eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth dropped open in a silent gasp of amazement.

For the second time today, whether by a sheer act of fate, or by accident, he bumped into Erza Scarlet.

She stood before him, her mouth open in surprise, her eyes brimming with shock at his sudden appearance. Her hair was piled at the base of her neck in a sloppy bun, and in her hands was a pile of fresh, clean linens. She looked so beautiful, it was all Jellal could do to stop and stare.

However, she was not the one Jellal was to meet with. She was a mere servant, and he doubted guards were just going to let prisoners out of their chambers on a mere plea by a serving girl.

"I'm over here," a feminine voice said, deep and sultry. It was a voice that wielded power and held a veil of mysteriousness to it. Jellal swallowed, feeling suddenly nauseous, and turned his head, focusing on the woman lounging on a soft padded seat with high armrests and a golden back.

She had long black hair, which was left long and draping down her back. It parted over her forehead, long black bangs that framed her face, shoved to the side with careful placement. There were two bun-shaped loops at the top of her head, with two identical braids below them.

Her face reminded Jellal of a geisha: lips covered in a glossy, dark lipstick; slanted green eyes; long, curving eyelashes, and a pair of raindrop shaped eyebrows. Her face was pale, with high cheekbones, and there was an intensely smug look in her eye that revealed to Jellal that she was of noble birth.

When he turned to her, she straightened up, leaning forward in her seat with a predatory look in her ivy green eyes. Such a look made Jellal feel like prey, and he squirmed underneath her unflinching stare.

"My, my, you are a handsome one," the woman purred, and her voice sent waves of discomfort racing through Jellal's veins. He shivered, but kept his gaze on her, never wavering, never faltering. He felt proud of himself for being so steadfast in front of what seemed to be a dangerous enemy.

"My name is Minerva, princess of Pergrande," the woman continued, getting off her seat and walking towards Jellal, the sway in her hips clearly meant to seduce him. She wore a long blue dress, like a cheongsam. It parted up her left leg, exposing patches of her thigh and creamy leg whenever she walked.

As she came forward, Erza stepped behind her, keeping her gaze locked on Jellal's. There was a light of fear in her deep brown eyes, and they kept flickering between Jellal and Minerva. She bit her lip, meeting Jellal's gaze.

Its ok, Jellal thought at her, willing her to see his message in his eyes. I'll be okay.

She nodded, a sharp, quick nod, then continued with her work. She kept an eye on him, and kept the two in her line of sights while she worked.

Minerva prowled around Jellal, an appreciative look in her dark eyes. Jellal raised his head, staring back at her with contempt.

"What do you want?" he rasped, his voice steady and strong.

Minerva looked at him, and ran a hand down his jaw, cupping his chin in her fingers. "Simple," the woman purred, stroking his face lovingly.

"You."

Those words sent a shiver of disgust through Jellal's body. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Erza's mouth drop in a silent gasp of shock.

Bile rose in his throat, and he wasn't sure if he could get out of this situation. Either way, from anyone's perspective, he was in deep.

* * *

**A/N: Yup. that's it.**

**leave a review, please?**

**-Wolf**

**P.S. I'll try and update faster... _I'll try._**


	6. Cross My Heart

**A/N: I have no excuse. Sorry for the late update. I'm a bad writer**

**I don't plan on any sadistic sort of plot, and this story is rated T-M. There will be some lime references, but nothing too major**

**thanks for the many review, follows, and favorites. You guys are awesome!**

* * *

**Chapter six: Cross My Heart**

Fate was a cruel and mysterious thing, something of which Erza Scarlet could never understand. It was incomprehensible; this nefarious destiny that wrapped tightly around Jellal Fernandes.

She barely knew this man, this ragged soldier, but she already felt some sort of bond with him. She could tell that he was a kind, kindred soul, with a big heart.

She saw his eyes widen in absolute horror, then quickly narrow in abhorrence at the dark haired woman standing before him. He got to his feet, despite the glares of the guard standing behind him. Erza was impressed- anyone with a lesser will would have collapsed under the weight of Minerva's declaration, but not him. No, he stood with his shoulders back, his head held high, and a proud look in his forest eyes. He stood strong in the face of adversary while any lesser man would have submitted.

"I am not someone's toy," he hissed between gritted teeth. "I will never bow down to the likes of you."

Erza flinched. She prepared herself for Minerva's outrage, which was like a wildfire- it grew quickly and soon became out of control. The princess of Pergrande was a proud, vain, and cruel woman who liked being dominant. She liked power, and she especially did not like it when someone didn't bow down to her rules. She became unhinged, like a raging demon, one that was determined to destroy the very heavens themselves. Erza herself had witnessed only one of these tantrums, and it had not been pretty.

And it had been directed all at Lucy.

"_Why are my sheets dirty still?" Minerva hissed, glaring at the trembling blonde who stood before her. Erza, who was in the bathroom, cleaning the sink, peeped throught the crack between the door and the wall. She had to angle her head into a bent position to see clearly._

"_I-I'm terribly sorry," Lucy squeaked, her dark eyes full of terror. Erza bit her lip, refraining from going out to defend her friend. However much she wanted to, it would only reflect bad on Lucy. Erza didn't want her blonde friend to get into any more trouble than she already was in._

"_That's no excuse for being lazy!" Minerva screamed, leaning over Lucy. Her hands were on her slim hips, and her dark hair was perfect, not a hair out of place. But her face was red and puffed out, her green eyes burning with a fury so great, it reminded Erza of fire. Dark, dangerous, hateful flames that yearned to burn the world until nothing was left but soot and ash._

_She may have been a bit too descriptive, but overdoing it she was not. Erza Scarlet knew what a hyperbole was- an exaggeration of the truth- but she was not exaggerating. The green fires burning in Minerva's eyes were sinister._

_Lucy tried to reason with Minerva. "Mistress, you hadn't yet left the room," she began carefully, emulating with her hands to try and pacify the raging princess. "I only wished to wait until you left."_

_:So you are saying that this is my fault?" Minerva's voice was deadly quiet, and strangely still, like the calm before the storm. Erza sensed the ozone in the air, and knew trouble was on the horizon._

"_Get out of there, Lucy," she begged, grasping the folds of her dress and biting her lip. She longed to go and save her friend, but she couldn't. The only thing she could do was watch from afar and pray that her friend would be ok._

"_No, princess, I just-"_

"_How dare you!" Minerva screamed. She flew at Lucy, who squealed in fear and jumped to the side, just barely avoiding Minerva's dive. The princess tripped and landed in a sprawling heap on the bed, while Lucy Heartfilia did the smartest thing a human could do after surviving Minerva's rage._

_She fled the scene, throwing open the door to the princess's room and running down the hallway as if wings had sprouted on her feet. Erza sighed in relief, and muttered a thank you to any god out there, thanking them for sparing Lucy from Minerva's fury._

_There was a moment of eerie silence, which was unsettling. The quiet and the stillness made Erza tense. She was unsure of how unstable Minerva was at this moment, and she feared what would become of her if the princess took her anger out on the redhead._

"_Erza Scarlet," she heard the princess say, in a deadly calm voice that was extremely unnerving. She sounded so stable, so at peace, it was almost uncanny. It was then, at that moment, Erza decided that the princess Minerva was bipolar._

_She straightened her shoulders and put an emotionless expression on her face. With one last breath, she walked through the bathroom door and smiled serenely, as if she hadn't witnessed what had just occurred moments ago._

"_Yes, milady?" she said, keeping her gaze locked on a point just below Minerva's mouth, out of respect. She dared not look into her green eyes, since that would be taken offensively. A lesser subject should not look into the eyes of nobility, it is seen as mutiny and a lack of respect. _

"_Change these sheets," Minerva hissed, striding past Erza and into the bathroom. "And make sure they're clean."_

"_Yes, milady," Erza murmured, staying frozen only until the bathroom door slammed shut behind her. Once she heard water running, then Erza deemed it safe to continue working._

_She didn't see Lucy for the rest of the day. The blonde seemed to have disappeared, which made Erza slightly worried. She hoped with all her heart that Lucy was alright._

_The blonde servant returned to their shared dorm after curfew. She was crying, and she shuffled into the room with her head hidden under waves of blonde hair. In the dim candlelight, her golden hair seemed to be dyed red._

_Only when Lucy raised her head, did Erza realize that her hair was dyed a reddish hue. It came from the blood that dripped down Lucy's forehead._

_She had been beaten._

Now, Erza feared for Jellal as he stood, so defiantly, in front of one of the most deadliest women in the world. After seeing what had happened to Lucy, who had barely- if at all- defied Minerva, Erza was terrified as to what the princess would do to a man who blatantly refused her pursuits.

Minerva narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond to Jellal's refusal. She lifted his chin in her hands and studied him carefully, purring appreciatively when he flinched as she dug her fingers in his skin.

"You have an aristocratic mouth," Minerva finally said, dropping her hand. He worked his jaw furiously and shook his head, all the while keeping his dark eyes on Minerva's pale face.

"Normally, I'd have you sent to the gallows for being so impertinent," Minerva said, turning and continuing her prowl around Jellal. "Or I'd send you to the executioner's block. However," her eyes glittered maliciously, a deep, intense green that made Erza blanch, "You have an appealing personality, and a strong will to match. I will enjoy breaking that will, and I will take pleasure in making you mine."

"Never," Jellal said venomously, hatred lacing his words. "I do not submit to women who terrorize others."

Minerva didn't bat an eye, and just calmly sashayed back to her seat. As soon as she sat back down, making herself comfortable, did she speak again. "We shall see," she hissed, running a painted nail down the side of her cheek. "We shall see."

The guard took this as his cue to end the conversation. With a huff, he walked over to Jellal, grabbing the bluenette roughly by the arm and dragging him backwards. "Take him to the room I've prepared," Minerva called out. "Make sure he's comfortable, then report back to me."

"Of course, my lady," The guard said, bowing stiffly. Jellal stared at Minerva icily, before his eyes slid over to land on Erza.

She looked at him with deep regret, wishing that his fate wasn't so. This fate of his condemned him to the worst possible future imaginable. She would have rathered him stay a prisoner for the rest of his life rather than be subjected to Minerva's will.

She walked down the hallways of the castle, biting her lip. Erza Scarlet was deep in thought. Her hands dangled at her side, limp and twitching, and her legs moved her robotically down the stone corridor. Her dark brown eyes, which were usually glowing with life and vigor, reflected the dim light and shone with nothing but an empty blankness. Her entire face was closed off, void of any emotion.

She blinked, and her hands suddenly curled into fists. Her mouth twitched, and a second later she gritted her teeth, letting a small growl of frustration escape past her lips.

_"My name?" he whispered, his voice deep and slow, as if words were foreign to him. "Why do you want to know?"_

She had wanted to know because he was the only thing that seemed bright in this dismal setting. It wasn't because of his hair- although his deep azure locks really were a spotlight against the dark grays of winter- but it was because he seemed to glow with an inner light. That was what attracted Erza to him.

_"Jellal, my name is Jellal Fernandes."_

When he said his name, it was like chocolate on her lips; she had repeated it quietly under her breath. His name was smooth and rich, just like the tone of his voice. It held a mystery she longed to uncover, a puzzle just aching to be solved.

_"Scarlet. That way I'll never forget."_

She suddenly stopped walking, heat flooding her cheeks as his words came flooding back to her. Delicately, she reached up and twined her red locks around her finger. A smile came to her lips, for what reasons she did not know. But something about his words sent a tiny thrill racing through Erza's veins, warming her body and igniting something deep within her, something she had yet to understand.

She shook her head, and continued walking down the hallway. She shivered as a sudden draft whistled through the stone wall, creating a quiet, whispering sound that was strangely eerie. It reminded Erza of the ghost stories her mother used to tell her.

She felt a sudden pang of sorrow hit her like she took a hit to the gut. She shook her head, closing her eyes, but the memories rose and swallowed her in a wave of suppressed emotions that refused to be ignored.

"_Erza, why must you insist on hearing this story again?" Erza's mother looked aghast as she stared down at her daughter, who at the age of eighteen, seemed to be frightened of nothing._

"_Because I like that story, and I want to tell it to Simon later," Erza argued, smoothing down the ruffled apron she was wearing. "Come on, mother. I forgot half of it. If I want to tell it to Simon, then I need to know it by heart."_

"_Sweetheart, Simon isn't as strong as you are," her mother said gently, trying not to sound mean. The dark haired boy that was Erza's best friend had a timid heart, and was spooked at the smallest things. That was why he naturally stuck by Erza, who seemed to be the boldest and the least fearful out of all the village children. She stuck out like a flame- her soul was strong and and her spirit was brave. She was the girl that every child looked up to, even ones that were older than her. She was charismatic and a brilliant leader. _

_Yet, she was also terribly rude to Simon sometimes, and Erza's mother often wondered how the boy tolerated it. Erza teased him ruthlessly, and yet Simon never objected, but calmly put up with Erza's taunts._

_Erza's mother looked at her daughter. She had inherited her red hair, but received her father's brown eyes instead of her own green. And right now, those brown eyes of Erza's were wide and pleading, her lips pursed, and her hands clasped together in a praying position. She leaned into her mother's chest and begged with her eyes._

_Her mother caved, just like Erza knew she would. Erza was her mother's weakness, and she always seemed to be able to get what she wanted. _

"_Fine," her mother said. She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped away from Erza, retreating to the kitchen table and sitting down. "Come here, and sit," she said sternly, patting the seat next to her._

_Erza grinned, walking over and plopping down on the hard, wood chair. Her mother rolled her eyes and muttered, "Can't believe we're doing this again," before beginning the story._

"_There was once a man who went by the name of Ichiya," she began seriously, putting a dark tone to her voice. "After a long day of unlucky hunting, Ichiya found himself stuck in the middle of the marshlands for the night, without a flashlight or a lantern to guide his steps. So he settled beside a fallen log to rest until daylight. As Ichiya rested, he recalled the story his friend told him about a ghost that haunted the marshlands._

"_There was once a man named Jack who was a nasty fellow. He beat his wife and kids and was an all-around bad chap. Jack got worse and worse as the years rolled by. But finally Jack's body got so wore out that he died. He went up to heaven, but Saint Peter refused to let such a wretched fellow in. Then he went to Hell, but the Devil barred the door as soon as he saw Jack coming and wouldn't let him in either. "Go away and don't come back," the Devil told Jack._

""_How am I supposed to get back in the dark?" Jack grumbled. "Give me a lantern."_

"_So the Devil threw a chunk of molten fire out to Jack, who took it for his lantern and went back to earth, where he wanders forever through the swamps and marshlands of the earth, a bitter spirit whose only delight was in luring the unwary to their doom with his lamp._

"_At this juncture in his musings, Ichiya happened to look out over the marshes and noticed a blinking light in the fog._

""_Is that you, Jack O'Lantern?" he called jovially."_

_Erza's mom paused in the story, taking a moment to revel in her daughter's complete absorption in the story. She gave a little chuckle before continuing._

""_Jack, jack, jack," a voice whispered back. Ichiya was seriously spooked. he clutched his gun to his chest, the hairs on his arms standing on end. Had that been an echo of of his voice, or was someone out here with him?_

""_Who's there?" he shouted, trying to sound brave and menacing. He waved the gun around. "Show yourself at once."_

""_Jack, jack, jack" the voice hissed from a completely different section of the swamp. A light blinked on and then off. On and then off._

"_Shudders ran up Ichiya's spine at the sound of that ghastly voice coming from nowhere. He huddled up against the log, wanting something firm at his back. Suddenly, the story of the Jack O'Lantern didn't seem so funny."_

_Erza rested her head in her hands. Her mind was racing, trying to imagine Simon's terrified face when she would tell the story. She couldn't wait to scare him._

""_Ichiya's heart was pounding so hard it made his chest hurt. He strained his ears in the silence that fell over the swamp._

""_Jack, jack, jack" the voice hissed from somewhere to Ichiya's left this time. The light blinked on, off, on…he counted ten heartbeats this time before it went off._

"_The voice sounded closer. Ichiya held very still, his instincts screaming at him to hold his breath and not move until the menace had passed. The voice came again, far off to the right. "Jack, (jack, jack)" it hissed. The light came on, off, on…off._

"_It's moving away, Ichiya thought, relaxing just a bit, feeling safer. There was a long, long, long silence. Nothing stirred, not the wind in the grass, not the frogs or turtles in the water, not the crickets or night insects._

"_"Jack, jack, jack" the voice hissed softly, right into Ichiya's ear. And he looked up into the glowing red eyes and twisted face of the Jack O'Lantern._

_Erza shuddered, feeling a chill up her spine._

"_Ichiya screamed, and lashed out at it with my gun. He ran a few steps, tripped and fell over, knocking his head on a sharp stone. For a moment he saw stars, and he felt blood pouring from his scalp. But the Jack O'Lantern was right behind his. He had to get away. So Ichiya rolled and fell into a deep pool. He plunged underneath the water, flailing desperately against ropelike grasses that tried to keep him down. His head finally burst out of the water, and he gasped desperately for air, treading water as best he could with trembling limbs and an aching head. He heard the creature laugh in the mist._

""_Jack, jack, jack" the voice hissed delightedly, and the light blinked on, off, on right over Ichiya's head, blinding his dazed eyes as horror flowed through him and froze his limbs so he could no longer swim. For a long moment, the grotesque face and red eyes of the Jack O'Lantern loomed out of the mist before Ichiya's petrified gaze._

"_His head started to swim with pain from his bleeding skull. The evil face above him, lit by its bright light, whirled around and around, growing dimmer as Ichiya's eyes started to glaze. He was vaguely aware that he should keep swimming, keep trying to make his way to the edge of the pool, but the effort was too much for his suddenly heavy limbs. He barely noticed himself plunging down and down into the watery depths of the pool, too stunned by his injury to fight his way to the surface a second time._

""_Then there was only darkness, and silence, and a voice hissing in cold triumph: "Jack, jack, jack.""_

_Erza's mother finished the story. She blinked, noting the tiny note of fear in Erza's eyes. The redhead shuddered, feeling disturbed by the story, but tried to hide it by looking excited, ready to scare Simon off._

_Erza's mother leaned forward. "You know, Erza," she said softly, raking her fingers through Erza's knotty hair. "You don't have to pretend to be brave, sweetheart."_

_Erza smiled faintly. "I'm fine," she said in a firm voice, thankful that she wasn't shaking. She stood. "I want to go and tell the story to Simon now."_

"_Wait a minute, Erza," Her mother said, getting to her feet. She motioned for her daughter to stay put. "Let me give you something."_

_Erza frowned, but stayed in place, tapping her foot while waiting patiently for her mother, who had disappeared into their shared bedroom. She heard shuffling, some muffled curses, and the sound of their closet door opening._

_An "Ah hah!" alerted Erza, and she stood straight, her eyes narrowed in interest. Her mother came back into their kitchen holding something in her hand. Erza frowned. "What's that?" she asked, her eyes glimmering with intrigue._

"_Close your eyes," her mother said. Erza rolled her eyes, but did so, waiting in anticipation. She felt her mother's hands on her head, and then felt something cold thunk against her chest. It was heavy and Erza heard the small chink of a necklace chain clink against itself._

"_Take a look," her mother said softly, and Erza opened her eyes. When she looked down, she noticed a beautifully designed silver cross hanging in the valley between her breasts. When she held it in her hand to get a closer look, she noticed what seemed to be a dark blue stone place in the juncture of the hilt and the blade. It was artfully crafted, and hung heavily around Erza's neck. The necklace made her suddenly feel safe and protected, like she had something watching out for her._

"_Thank you, mother," she said, reaching out to embrace the other woman. "What is it for?"_

"_It'll protect you incase Jack comes to get you," her mother said, making a joke. Era frowned, feeling her mother's taut muscles in her arms. "Or from anything else that dares to try and harm you."_

_Her mother pulled out of Erza's embrace. "Go," she said, a smile on her face. "Tell Simon that story, but for god's sake, don't scare the poor boy away. He's a sweet kid, Erza."_

_Erza smiled happily, retreating to the door, the cross held tightly in her hand. "Cross my heart," she promised. "I'll see you!" She waved once more at her mother before flying out the door, her red hair waving out behind her like a vermillion tide._

"_Be safe," her mother whispered._

_That was three days before the raid on Erza's town occurred. Three days before her family was brutally slaughtered, and Erza was captured by the enemy._

Erza sighed, wiping the faint tears that came to her eyes. She smiled, the memory of her mother warming her body. She fingered the sword necklace hidden under the neckline of her dress and ran her fingers over it's smooth edge, taking comfort in it's warm presence.

She continued her walk down the castle corridors, her mind lost in memories of her family, and of Simon. She loved that boy, but not in the way that he had wanted. When he kissed her, she never felt any sense of love for him other than that of a brother. He had kissed her that very afternoon, the same afternoon her mother had told her the Jack O'Lantern story. She had pulled away from him in shock. She couldn't bear to look at him, not after he kissed her. So she sent him away in tears, after she yelled that she hated him.

She never talked to him again. Because three days later, he was gone, just another corpse lying on the ground.

She sighed. She had never before felt remorse or regret, not like this. But the feeling wouldn't go away- knowing that her last words to him had been ones of hatred made Erza loathe herself. She wasn't sure if she could forgive herself for those detestable words.

Suddenly, Erza bumped into something hard. There was a resonating crack as she walked headfirst into that something, and then someone cursed and stumbled back. Erza blinked, realizing what had just happened.

A young man stood in front of her, looking with wide eyes at his feet, where a pile of shattered glass lay. He had dark black hair, and a pair of dark blue eyes to match. He was dressed in a pair of black trousers tucked into black boots, and a dark blue, long sleeved cotton shirt. The collar was open, exposing a view to his well muscled pectoral muscles. Erza blushed and averted her eyes, looking down at the pile of glass instead.

From the remains, it looked to be a simple glass cross. There was a silver chain amidst the pile, and Erza realized that it was a cross necklace. Her mouth opened in a silent "oh" of horror at what she'd done.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry," she said, reaching out. "I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," the man said, waving her off. "It was just a necklace. No big deal."

"You seem upset," Erza noticed, looking at his arms, which were tensing. His eyes were narrowed, and an aura of distress rose off of him in waves.

"No, it's-" the man looked at her, then shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm upset," he concluded, scuffing at the tiny pile of glass with the toe of one boot. "A friend in the Reserves gave it to me when we were rookies in the army."

Erza frowned. "I'm sorry," she repeated, looking down at her hands. "Were the two of you close?"

He nodded. "He was my bunkmate. That necklace was his sister's, but he figured that I'd have better use of it. She had already given him several other trinkets to remember her by, so he gave that to me as a token of our friendship."

Erza shook her head. "I didn't see you," she mumbled. "And I know that's a real crap apology for breaking something that was so close to you. Have you seen your friend recently?"

"He was deployed to the front lines as soon as we were drafted," the man explained. "I thought I'd never see him again. I thought he had been killed in action, since he seemed to have fallen off the face of this earth. But I actually ran into him not too long ago. A friend and I were searching for his whereabouts, and I found him."

"That's good to hear. I hope he's- oh! I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," Erza said quickly, wiping her hands on her apron and extending one to the man. "I'm Erza Scarlet. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Gray Fullbuster. The pleasure's all mine, Miss Scarlet," Gray said, taking her hand in his and giving her a firm shake. His hand was rough and calloused, but warm and soft at the same time. He had a strong grasp, the kind of hold that would make anyone feel protected. It was a nice feeling.

Gray studied Erza's face, looking at her hair intently. "Scarlet, huh?" he said, letting go of her hand to touch the locks framing her face. Immediately, Erza flushed, and tried to hide her face.

"Stupid, huh?" Erza said, slightly embarrassed. "Red like my hair."

Gray shook his head. "Nah," he muttered, tucking her hair behind one ear. "It suits you. Scarlet. So I'll never forget."

His words were so similar to Jellal's that it was like a knife to the gut. There were so many men in the world, and many of which looked at her like she was inhuman because of the strange color of her hair. And yet, two men looked at her and swore her hair was perfect.

_"Scarlet. That way I'll never forget."_

"So, Scarlet," Gray's voice came through Erza's thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

Erza gestured back behind her. "I just came from princess Minerva's quarters," she said. "There was a man that Minerva wanted to see, so I tidied her room for her."

Gray's eyes narrowed in interest. "A man?" he said in an inquiring tone.

Erza nodded. She thought of Jellal, and her heart swelled again. "His name is Jellal Fernandes."

Gray's eyebrows rose, and there was a flash of interest and panic in his deep blue eyes, so quick Erza thought she was dreaming. He shook his head and ran his hand through his thick black hair.

"You're a maid of the Princess?" He asked, his voice suddenly sounding unsteady.

Erza nodded. "Yes, yes I am."

Gray smiled. "Well, that's nice. I'm new here, and you seem to be in good standings with the princess since you're one of her servants. Maybe you could show me around, help me get to know this place better?"

Erza nodded. "Of course. It's the least I could do after breaking your necklace. Speaking of which, here," she said, making a rash and bold decision. She reached under her neckline, and pulled her necklace over her head. Quickly, she reached forward and draped her necklace around Gray's neck, pulling him a bit closer so she could get it over his head. She heard his quick intake of breath at her sudden move, but didn't pay attention. His skin felt warm under her hands, and in that fleeting moment, when her hands were near his collarbone, she felt the erratic beating of his heart. She bit her lip, looking at her necklace around her neck, before backing away from him.

"There," she declared. "Now you can have an unbreakable one to replace the one I broke."

He looked at it, dangling around his neck. One hand came up and fingered it, a thoughtful expression on his face. He smiled.

"Thank you, Erza," he murmured.

Erza smiled. "No problem," she whispered. "Just promise to take good care of it." That necklace had made her feel safe for so long, but in Gray's presence, she no longer felt the need to be protected by an idol. He made her feel safe enough.

"Cross my heart," he promised her solemnly. He tucked it into hi me and earth's shirt, then awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Are- Are you busy right now?" Gray suddenly asked her. He smiled unsteadily at her. "Maybe we could get to know each other now."

Erza thought for a moment. "Like a tour?" She asked suddenly, a brilliant idea coming to her mind. She could take him around the castle, using him as a tool to search for where Jellal was taken. She felt guilty for using him, but she needed to make sure Jellal was alright.

"Come on," she said, reaching out her hand. "I'll give you the grand tour."

He didn't hesitate, but simply took her hand. "Okay," He murmured, squeezing it softly. "Lead on."

* * *

Gray frowned, looking at the redheaded woman walking along in front of him. She was beautiful, and just what Gray needed to find his way around the castle.

She knew of Jellal, and with a little nudging, she'd know where he'd be. She'd be Gray's tool in undermining Pergrande and saving Jellal.

"I'll save you, Jellal," he muttered, reaching up to clutch Erza's sword necklace.

"That's a promise."


	7. The Horror Within

****A/N: Wow, sorry for the wait. As I said before, I'm still quite busy with everything going on in my life, but I'm still here, and I will continue to use every free chance I have to continue updating. Thanks for being so patient with me.****

****This chapter is a bit short, and it's more like a planning chapter for the upcoming chapters. It may be a bit boring, but it's all set up for what's next.****

* * *

**Chapter seven: The Horror Within**

Jellal always thought luck was on his side, even in the most dire situations. When he had plunged recklessly into the gorge, he'd been quite sure that he'd never make it back alive. But somehow, he survived, even when he'd been sure that death was iminent. He liked his luck, and he'd been awfully certain that luck would always be with him.

But this was simply betrayal.

Of course, Jellal knew that luck couldn't betray anyone, since it wasn't even an actual thing. However, he couldn't help but feel as if fate was laughing at him. This time, luck had screwed him over. He had finally pulled the short straw, and nothing could help him now.

The guard dragged him roughly down the corridor, bruising his arms. Jellal winced as the man wrenched his arms brutally behind his back, bruising his arms. He dropped his head, glaring at the man under his bangs, but not uttering a word. He suffered through the pain quietly, gritting his teeth and longing for a weapon, _any _weapon, that could possibly aid in his escape.

But none came, and Jellal came to the conclusion that nothing could help him. The vast realization hit him hard when the guard pulled him towards an ornate wooden door, with a giant bar across the front. The guard held Jellal with one arm, while with the other, pulled the bar away from the door.

This is my fate, Jellal thought, resigned. I will never again return home to Fiore. I will never submit to Minerva, and for that, she will kill me.

Jellal almost wanted to laugh at the irony. Here he was, given this "new" life. He could spend the rest of his days as a favored one of a noble, head of an empire. Pergrande would destroy Minstrel, Fiore, and every other country that defied them. And Jellal would be holed up inside the castle, safe and protected.

Except for the fact that he refused to become a plaything for the rest of his days. Jellal has spent his life fighting for his freedom, his _country's _freedom, and he would continue to fight to his last. He wasn't a coward, and he wasn't afraid of death. His audacious dash into the gorge was a perfect example.

The guard shoved him into the dark room that lay beyond the door. With a sarcastic, "sleep tight," the guard slammed the door with a mighty crash. Jellal heard the sound of the bar being bolted back into place, and then silence. The darkness was suddenly overwhelming, and he began to stumble blindly around, looking for a light.

He smashed his knee into something hard and pointed. With a muffled curse, he shuffled around, feeling the object he hit. It seemed to be the corner of a desk, which made him hopeful. He felt around a bit more, and triumphantly, flicked on a light.

The sudden brightness illuminated the room, blinding Jellal. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes become adjusted to the light, before taking a look around at his new "home."

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was a desk and a chair next to him, a bed, and a closet. There were no windows, which meant that his room was situated in the interior of the castle, instead of being placed next to an outer wall. Nothing covered the bare stone walls, and a simple mat the color of pine trees lay on the floor.

However, Jellal noticed something odd about his room. The desk, the bed, and the chair were all bolted down to the floor with heavy iron bolts, securing them firmly to the ground. He walked next to his wardrobe and found the giant wooden armoire secured to the wall with the same iron bolts. The only light came from the small lamp on his desk; there were no light fixtures attached to the walls. This puzzled Jellal for a moment, and then he understood.

They didn't want him turning anything in here into a weapon. Also, in case he was really desperate, they didn't put anything on the walls incase he tried to kill himself. It was such a well thought out plan, Jellal wanted to punch himself for not thinking about this sooner. Now, he was really screwed.

Did his luck really have to run out now?

He flopped onto his bed, heaving a giant sigh. There was simply nothing to do but wait. His mind was clouded over with nothing but his ill fate.

He closed his eyes. An image appeared before him, that of a woman with long black hair and bold red eyes. She was wearing the last outfit he saw her in: a black dress and a green military jacket. She wore it to his induction into the Reserves, right before her first tour of the seas. He could see her now clearly, hands on her hips, a smirk on her face.

"_What's wrong?" _He could practically hear her words in his head, strong and vibrant.

"I don't know," he whispered out loud, hands clenching the bedsheets. "I don't know what to do."

"_Nothing's going to help you just by sitting there feeling sorry for yourself. Get up, Jellal."_

"How?" he whispered. With his eyes still firmly closed, he reached up towards the ceiling, as if reaching towards her. She was there right before him, but if he opened his eyes, the vision would vanish. And he didn't want that.

"_Get up Jellal," _She commanded, turning around and walking away. "_Get up and get to work."_

"Wait, Ultear!" He cried, sitting up and opening his eyes. He was met with the bare walls of his prison. They stared back at him, reminding him of his imprisonment.

"Don't leave me," he whispered.

But she was gone, leaving nothing but her words.

* * *

It was probably the third day of doing nothing that Jellal began to understand what Ultear's words were.

He'd been doing nothing but laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Every day he was given breakfast, lunch, and dinner, all at the exact time every day. In each of these periods, a guard stayed stationed besides the door, which remained closed and locked. The key to the door hung on this guard's belt.

And so, Jellal began to formulate his plan.

On the third day, he was in the same situation as the others: laying on his bed, kicking his feet, counting the number of notches he saw in the wooden planks of the ceiling. He heard the sudden jingle of keys in the door, the sound of the iron bar being pulled away from it's horizontal position.

He sat up, eyes narrowed as the guard entered, carrying a tray. The guard refused to look at him, setting the tray down on the desk and retreating by the door. "Breakfast," the guard muttered, leaning against the wall and setting his hand on the pommel of his sword. Jellal eyed the gun holster shoved into the back of his pants and wordlessly got up.

He sat down in the chair, strategically turning his body so he could face the other man. He shot a quick glance down at his food, which consisted of bread, cheese, and a suspicious piece of food that looked something like meat. He turned his nose up at it and grabbed the bread.

The guard was a young man, probably middle twenties. He had startling turquoise eyes, and a spiky frock of black hair that hung over his forehead. A scar ran down the left side of his face, and was criss crossed by two others, one just below his eye, the other running through his eyebrow. On his ear hung an earing with a simple pendant.

"What's your name?" he asked the man, tearing a piece of bread and chewing hungrily. He eyed the guard, noticing the way his shoulders tensed upon being talked to. Jellal made a mental note to keep that in mind.

The guard shot Jellal a suspicious glare, as if the bluenette was trying to be deceitful. Jellal raised his hands, eyes wide with innocence. "Listen, I'm just trying to be civil," Jellal said, making his voice sound soothing and calm. "I've been holed up in here for three days. One more day of this endless silence and I'll rip my hair out."

The guard relaxed his stance. His eyes softened, but he refused to keep his hands off his sword, sending a silent message towards Jellal: Any funny business, and I'll cut you in two. Jellal put an easy smile on his face to placate the guard, and the man finally smiled back.

"The name's Doranbolt," he said.

"Jellal," Jellal replied.

The air took on a sudden stillness as they lapsed into an awkward silence. The man, Doranbolt, eyed Jellal warily, his hand still attached to his sword. Jellal looked at him.

"I'm not going to attack you, you know," he said dryly. "So it's okay to relax."

Doranbolt frowned. "Lady Minerva said to keep an eye on you," he muttered. "She said you may try to told me to tell her if you tried anything." There was something, like a hesitation in his voice, that alerted Jellal. It was almost as if he didn't want to believe his own words.

Something clicked in Jellal's mind. This was his chance.

"Don't get me wrong," Jellal interjected, leaning back in his seat, his food untouched. "I'd love to get out of this hellhole. Did you expect anything else? I've been a prisoner here for two years. Two long, _painful _years. And do you want to know what I just learned?" Before Doranbolt could answer, Jellal cut him off, continuing his tirade.

"I just learned that my home country, Fiore, has just been destroyed, and that my mother and sister are probably dead right now. _Dead_. And I wasn't able to be there for them, because _I'm currently being held against my will by a psychotic woman who wants to use me for her personal needs._ So when the "Lady Minerva""- he said this with as much sarcasm as he could muster- "says that I may try to escape, she's wrong. I don't want to "try" and escape, but I will escape. This is a promise."

Doranbolt flinched at Jellal's declaration. Jellal looked at him closely. This was it. Either Doranbolt was going to report this immediately to Minerva, or he'd remain where he was, which meant that Jellal was right.

See, Jellal knew the inner workings of nobles and their workers. Blue bloods treated their employees unfairly. Most of the workers take this cruel treatment and keep their mouths shut, but there are some who don't.

They rebel, and it looked to Jellal that this Doranbolt fellow seemed like that very type.

Doranbolt looked at Jellal. There was a sudden longing in his eyes, as if he wanted to escape with Jellal, and get out of Pergrande. His hand suddenly slackened on his sword, and he slumped against the wall.

"My family was killed by a Minstrel patrol," Doranbolt whispered, sliding down to the floor, where his armor clanked softly upon hitting the stone. "We were from Joya, which has probably been wiped off the map by now. My whole town was destroyed, but I survived, along with my friend, Lahar.

"We were so angry with Minstrel for destroying our lives, we decided to travel to Pergrande and pledge our loyalty to their cause," Doranbolt continued while Jellal listened, quiet and attentive. The man's voice suddenly faltered, and there was a look of utter despair in his eyes.

Jellal leaned forward. "What happened?" he whispered, alreading knowing that something dreadful had occurred in Doranbolt's time in Pergrande. The only question was what.

Doranbolt took a shaky breath. Then, in a voice so quiet Jellal had to lean in close to understand, he whispered, "Minerva killed him."

Jellal frowned. "Killed?" he echoed. "Killed who?"

Doranbolt closed his eyes, and as Jellal watched, a tear welled up from under his left eye and ran down his face, a glittering drop that looked like glass as it fell from his cheek to land on the cold stone. Doranbolt opened his eyes, and quietly wiped his face. When he looked back up, there was a hard glint in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"Minerva did the same thing to Lahar as she's doing to you," Doranbolt hissed. "Only, her patience wore thin and she killed him after he refused her. And that's going to be your fate unless you submit to her."

Jellal stood up abruptly. Was he wrong? Was Doranbolt really just one of those who accepted the cruelty of the nobles?

"I'm never going to submit-" he began harshly, but then Doranbolt stood and interrupted him.

"Or," said the scarred man, giving a tiny grin. "You can escape and fight."

* * *

It was dusk, and Doranbolt had left Jellal alone with his own thoughts. The blue haired man lay on his bed, arms above his head, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

The Pergrande Dynasty, which started with King Jiemma, centuries ago, was always deceitful and cunning. Through the years, Pergrande has gotten away with many crimes because it's leaders were evil and corrupt.

King Ivan and his children, Minerva and Rufus, were as corrupt as it could get. They were the ones who started the war with Minstrel. They were the ones who destroyed Fiore and Joya, and they were the ones who were willing to hurt others to get their way.

They weren't just corrupt. They were vile, malicious, disgusting, and rotten to the core. They were the horror within Pergrande. The country itself may not be evil, but they certainly were.

Jellal gritted his teeth. There was nothing that could make him give in to Minerva's wills. He would get out of the castle, with the help of Doranbolt.

Now that he had secured Doranbolt's loyalties, he could get messages to Gray. Together, from the inside, they could possibly create some damage that could weaken Pergrande.

Together, they could destroy the country that destroyed everything.

But there was another thing on Jellal's mind, something that seemed just as important as his freedom, maybe even more so. It was Erza.

He had to save her as well.

* * *

Gray stood in a dark room, ornately furnished with elaborate furniture and decorative wall coverings. The only light that illuminated the room came from under the door of an adjacent room, from which running water could be heard. Other than that, the room was dark and silent.

Gray looked out the window, where dark storm clouds lingered on the horizon. He fingered the necklace that Erza had given him.

She was his key to finding Jellal and getting him out of this hellhole. But yet, Gray couldn't find the heart to leave her behind. He wanted to save her too, not just Jellal.

But his orders were to bring Jellal, and Jellal only, back home. Rogue insisted on it.

Gray frowned. He had a strong sense of justice, and was willing to do whatever was right, even If it means breaking rules. So if risking the mission to help save one more person was it, then Gray would do it.

The sound of a door opening made him turn around. Facing him was a slim, pink haired young man, who was dressed in a pair of trousers and a loose cotton shirt. The white fabric clung to the man's muscular frame, since his skin was still a bit damp. His hair, which was wet, dripped down his neck.

The pink haired man frowned upon seeing Gray. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a rough voice, taking a towel and rubbing his hair. "Any news?"

"I haven't found his new location yet," Gray answered. "You?"

The man shrugged. "Well, the nobles still think I'm Ambassador Zancrow," he said. "I'm supposed to meet with the Prince tomorrow, for a war council meeting. I'll see if I can get any info tomorrow."

Gray nodded. "Good. Maybe we can find something that'll give us an edge against Pergrande."

At his words, the thunderclouds on the horizon gave a mighty clap, like the sound of a thousand drums ringing out. Following the thunder came a flash of lighting, briefly illuminating the room with it's brilliant light.

"Ominous tidings," the pink haired man murmured. He grinned. "Maybe that brings good news of Pergrande's downfall, eh, Gray?"

Gray chuckled. "Always the optimist, Natsu."

Natsu grinned. "This country's reign of terror has come to an end. It's time for Fiore to rise out of the ashes and destroy Pergrande."

Another clap of thunder resonated through the building, and a sense of doom blanketed the castle.

* * *

**A/N: And I leave you on that note. Hope it leaves you on the edges of your seats. R&amp;R, please?**

**-Wolf**

**P.S. does anyone else think Lyon got super hot in the recent chapters (420s roughly)**


	8. An Unexpected Ally

**A/N: So we're almost there! Just a few more days before I'll be back officially! But that doesn't mean I'm going to be updating a billion things then, what it _does_ mean is that I'll have more time to focus on FF so I can update _more frequently._**

**I've had a hard time working on this story because, and I will be honest here, I did lose interest. But now, and I'm guessing it's because I have more time, I've found my muse again, so three cheers for that.  
**

**Thanks again for all the reviews, favorites, and follows on this story. It really makes me happy to see all of you enjoying this!**

* * *

**Chapter eight: And Unexpected Ally**

If there was something Gray Fullbuster hated more than waking up early, it was waking up early in a country that deserved to be burned to the ground. But that was just his opinion.

He snarled angrily and cursed the sunlight streaming through his window and threw his covers over his head, angrily muttering about some "damn curtains" to cover the windows. He sighed, scratching his stomach, before closing his eyes again, trying to gain a few more minutes of sleep.

There was a knock on his door. With a groan, he threw off his covers and sat up, glaring angrily at the heavy wooden barrier that separated his tiny cubicle of quietude from the outside world. "_What?" _he practically snarled, already knowing who it was at the door.

The door creaked open, revealing Natsu, who stood in a pair of white cotton pants and nothing else. His hair was a wreck, like he too had just been awoken. He grinned sleepily at Gray and ran a hand through his already mussed hair, making the pink locks only more unruly.

"Morning sunshine," the pink haired man said, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. His body was tan and lean, his muscles flexing. Scars crisscrossed his body, testaments to battles long past.

Gray gave him a withering glare and kicked away the sheets, exposing his bare torso and black linen pants. He slipped out of bed and stood, stretching, a yawn making its way out of the confines of Gray's chest. "Gah," he grumbled, dropping his arms. "Mornings. Yuck."

"You sound happy," Natsu noted, coming in and closing the door behind him. Their rooms were connected, since Natsu was supposed to be an ambassador from one of Pergrande's allies, and Gray was supposed to be the dutiful guard. Hah! If only the Pergrande royals knew the truth.

Gray eyed Natsu, walking across the tiny space to snatch up his shirt. "What the hell are you doing in here so early, Dragneel?" he said, throwing the black cloth over his head. The soft fabric fell loosely across Gray's shoulders, and he wordlessly turned back to Natsu, raising an eyebrow.

Natsu yawned. "I woke up a few minutes ago. I gotta get ready for my "meeting" with the prince, tell him Desierto, or whatever country we're representing, is "completely on your side and we will do whatever it takes to destroy Minstrel and protect your world supremacy" or some stupid shit like that." He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned. "Bleh," he continued, narrowing his fierce onyx eyes. "Can I just say how pathetic and mushy that sounds? I'm a warrior, not a freaking soap opera actor."

"First of all, Natsu," Gray pointed out, sitting back down on the bed. "We're supposed to be representing Bellum, since that's where Zancrow is from. And secondly, no matter how sappy and corny that sounds, you _have _to say that. That's the only way to ensure Rufus's trust, and through him, _Ivan's_ trust. Got that?"

"I hate this job," Natsu muttered.

"Well don't complain! You _are_ the one who asked for it, after all."

Natsu frowned. "Okay, okay," he grumbled, raising his hands in surrender. "I get it! Can we get back to the point here?"

Gray raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"I need you to scout around the castle, and try and find some escape routes for us, in case the mission goes sour. And see if you can scrounge up any dirt on the royals while you're at it. I'll do my best to see what I can get out of Blondie over there, but I need you to be my eyes and ears around this hellhole."

Gray frowned, reaching down to grab a pair of boots. Once he shoved the scuffed leather shoes on, he stood. "Sure thing. And I could also keep an eye out on wherever they're keeping Jellal."

Natsu sighed and rested his back against the wall. He crossed his arms and looked Gray in the eyes. "What was he like, this Jellal guy? I've heard some vague rumors about him, but other than that, he's just another name in history. So who is he, and why do you and Rogue have such close connections with him?"

Gray often forgot that only he and Rogue knew the truth about the battle for Seven. Rogue had kept it secret, out of guilt and shame for not being able to tell others the truth before the story got out of hand. Jellal never blamed him for taking the credit, but Rogue still felt responsible.

Gray still remembered the day he first met Jellal. How could he not? The young boy he met in the barracks was the boy who would later become one of his closest and most reliable friends.

_When he first saw the blue haired boy with the marked face, Gray couldn't help but be startled by the boy's appearance. He had a haunted look in his eyes, like he couldn't escape some ghost of his past. He was dressed in tattered black pants and a scuffed up jacket. From the looks of him, he couldn't have been older than eighteen, and yet he had the demeanor of an aged man, like he had seen all the horrors of this world and now wanted nothing more than to close his eyes forever._

_The two of them were assigned a bunk together, and they silently made their way down the dank halls of the Reserves Academy. A plain black door greeted them at the end of the hall, and the marked boy wordlessly opened the door, revealing the tiny space beyond, decorated with two diminutive cots._

"_Home sweet home," Gray muttered, dumping his bag on one of the cots. He plopped down on the mattress and flinched when he felt its hardness. _

_The blue haired boy barely even smiled at Gray's words. He set his bag down on the floor next to the other bed, then quietly laid down on the hard surface. He threw a hand over his eyes and turned his back to Gray, facing the wall._

"He's kind of hard to describe," Gray muttered. He sat back and looked up at Natsu, who was looking back at Gray expectantly. "When I first met him, he was the most aloof person I had ever met. For the first week alone, he never once spoke. Since we were bunk mates, we were also partners in every training regime the commander put us through. So for every run we had to do, or training exercises, I was stuck with him."

"_Alright, you rookies," their commander shouted, his hands on his hips. Gray wanted to snicker and point out that the man's cap, which used to say "Commander Mass," now said "Commander ass," as some genius was able to scratch off the 'M.' He turned to Jellal, but the blue haired boy stared stoically ahead, with his hands behind his back, feet spread shoulder length apart, chest up, head raised. He looked like a statue, and Gray had the sudden urge to try and push him over._

"_Five mile warm up, and I don't want to see those lazy asses of yours slagging! Get going, and don't let me catch you walking!"_

_Without a word, Jellal turned and began to trudge away, heading toward the track that lay a few hundred meters away. With an angry sigh, Gray turned and followed the marked boy, wondering for the nth time why in the world he didn't speak. It wasn't like his tongue was cut out or anything. _

"_Hey," Gray yelled, finally catching up with his bunk mate. The boy looked at him with emotionless eyes, but didn't respond._

"_Why won't you speak with me?" Gray snarled, getting into the boy's face. "I don't even know your name." He stepped in front of the boy and pointed a finger at him, jabbing the appendage in his face. "At least tell me your name."_

_The boy blinked, and then a wry grin touched his lips. "Jellal," he said simply, before brushing past Gray._

"I finally managed to get him to open up, little by little," Gray continued. "He told me about leaving his mother and sister behind because he didn't want to burden them."

"Burden them with what?" Natsu queried, leaning forward with and interested gleam in his eye.

"_I didn't want them to see the failure that my father left behind." Jellal said. "And I was that failure."_

"He felt guilty because he felt he couldn't be the man that his mother and sister wanted him to be."

Natsu frowned. "Sounds like a conflicted guy."

Gray chuckled. "You can say that again. I don't think Jellal ever let go of his guilt. But at the same time, it was his guilt that pushed him to succeed. He graduated at the top of our class when we graduated from the Academy. I swear, not a day went by that he didn't slack off."

"_You know Jellal," Gray said, leaning on the bench to catch his breath. "You don't have to push yourself so hard all the time." They had just finished one of the most grueling obstacle courses that the Academy required all initiates to pass. So far, only Gray and Jellal could accomplish this. The latter of the two was currently sitting on the bench, wiping his face with a towel. Sweat dripped off his tan body, his bare torso glistening. His chest heaved, and his muscles trembled from exertion._

_Jellal stood up, and turned to his bunk mate. "I know," he murmured, dropping the towel and stretching, arching his muscled back and raising his hands to the sky. "But if I don't work to the best of my abilities, then how can I prove to Wendy and Mother that I'm not that weak-willed, cowardly boy that first showed up here?"_

_Oh Jellal, Gray thought as the blue haired young man turned and headed back to the start of the course. If only your family could see you now, then you'd realize that you don't have to prove anything._

"And how did you two meet Rogue?"

Gray stood and walked towards the door, pausing to reach for his sword and strap it to his belt. "I got into a fight with another one of the rookies. His name was Lyon Vastia. I forget what we squabbled over, it was probably a trivial matter anyway. But we got into a pretty nasty brawl, and it was Rogue and Jellal that pulled us off of each other." He shrugged. "After that event, the three of us were pretty inseparable."

Natsu raised a brow. "Were you three in the same graduating class?"

Gray nodded. "Jellal finished first in our class, overachieving bastard that he was. Rogue finished second, another child prodigy. Me? I finished towards the middle, since I wasn't a brainiac nor was I a perfectionist."

Natsu smirked. "That sounds like you."

Gray ignored that little snide remark and proceeded to open the door, only to be stopped by Natsu's firm grip on his arm. "Wait," said the pinked haired man. He pulled Gray towards him and frowned, pointing towards his companion's neck. "What happened to your necklace? Where's the one that Jellal gave you?"

_It was the night before Jellal was being deployed to the front lines. They two of them were sitting together in their room, which was lit only by candlelight. Neither one of them spoke, but simply gazed into the dark corners of their home. This feeling of absolute recitence reminded Gray of that moment when the two of them first met._

_Finally, after minutes or hours, Jellal spoke. "Do you know where you'll be put?" he asked, referring to the many job positions rookies were given after the Academy. Jellal had been tapped for soldier, just like Rogue was. But Gray's fate still remained an enigma._

_Gray shook his head. "Not a damn clue. Watch, I'll get some stupid job like 'Gun Polisher' or 'Barracks Cleaner' or some stupid position like that." He said this lightly, as if to erase some of the tension that was permeating the small space._

_Jellal gave a wry grin. "Nah. Gray, with your abilities? You'll be given a good job. Far better than me or Rogue."_

"_This doesn't make any sense," Gray argued. He pointed at himself. "Why the hell is it you two? Out of all the rookies here, the two of you have the potential to do...whatever! You have the best grades, the best performance, so why did they pick you to go to the front? Why was it not me the one being deployed?"_

"_Its because we're the best," a voice said, and the two of them looked up to see none other than Rogue standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, with a serious expression on his face. He looked Gray in the eyes, and heaved a small sigh._

"_They need people like me and Jellal out there. With our expertise, we may be able to hold our own against the enemy. Not to mention, we need guys like Jellal out there, men with the ability to think logically and quickly."_

_Gray frowned. "Why can't I go with you? We're in this together, right?"_

_He thought about the time the three of them met, when he was brawling with the Vastia boy. He remembered the pain of their tussle, and then the strong arms of Jellal yanking him from the white haired boy. It was then they first met Rogue, the dark haired boy with odd red eyes, pulling Lyon away from Gray. He remembered Rogue introducing himself to Gray and Jellal after the fight was dispensed. _

"_I've seen you guys around here," the dark haired boy had said, shaking hands with Gray. He then nodded formally to Jellal. "You're the prodigy, right?"_

_Jellal hadn't said a word._

"_The name's Rogue Cheney," the boy continued. "I've been watching the two of you. Frankly, it seems like you are the only two sane guys around here. Mind if I join you?"_

_And that was all it took. From that moment, they were inseparable._

_The memory was vivid in Gray's mind as he stared as his two best friends. Jellal sat up, fingering something around his neck, while Rogue came over and sat on the end of Gray's bunk. "We'll always be in this together," Rogue said, grinning at Gray. "I promise."_

"_What if you guys die out there?" Gray argued. He couldn't bear to lose his best friends. There would be no justice in this world if the two most inspiring people in his life were taken from him. It just would not be fair._

_Jellal sighed, then reached under his shirt and pulled out a necklace, pulling the chain over his head. He reached forward and took Gray's hand, placing the chain in his friend's hand. "There," Jellal said, closing Gray's fingers around the token. "This is my promise that we will come back safely. Guard this for me. It was Wendy's, but she gave it to me for safekeeping. You need it more than I do."_

Gray's hand flew up to his neck, where the necklace that Erza had given him hung around his throat. "Oh, this," he mumbled, fingering the blunt edge of the sword charm between his forefinger and thumb. "I lost the previous one. This was given to me the other day by a sympathetic serving girl."

He didn't have the heart to tell Natsu that the necklace that Jellal had given him had been broken. Symbolically, it would mean that Jellal's promise to return home would break, and that was something that Gray could not, _would_ not, believe.

Natsu frowned. "What a shame. It was a pretty neat necklace too. How'd you lose it?"

Gray opened his door. "Must've dropped it, maybe it fell, I don't know," he said. "But you'd better get going, else you miss your meeting with Rufus." He looked over his shoulder and grinned wickedly at the pink haired man. "Then I just might have to kill you."

"Shut up," said Natsu good naturedly.

Gray stepped out of his cubicle into Natsu's, which was cluttered and messy with the rosette's things. The latter of the two walked over to his armoire and pulled out his clothes for the day, while Gray headed out of the room. He closed the door behind him, catching the last of Natsu's "damn uniform is too stiff" or some other complaint like that. He couldn't help but chuckled at his friend's plight; the poor young man absolutely hated, abhorred, despised, _loathed _formal meetings, especially the "dress to impress" part of it. Why Rogue chose him to be the ambassador was beyond what Gray could fathom.

But truth be told, Natsu had a very good way with words. Unbeknownst to others, he had a way of getting others to loosen their tongues and give away information without their knowledge. _That _was the true reason why Natsu was handpicked for this mission.

He walked down the hall, passing a few Royal Guards. They eyed him distastefully and looked him over with distrust swimming malignantly in their eyes. Frowns adorned their lips, and Gray could almost see the sneers dripping out of their mouths.

Gray looked back at them, cold and uncaring. The way to act in this kind of situation was to pretend like nothing bothered you. They know that you know you don't belong, but you sure as hell better act like you do, otherwise you're dead. It was the first job Gray learned when he was assigned his position.

_Intelligence._

In other words, he was a spy. In special cases, and assassin, but in most probable situations, he provided the information that the enemy eagerly withheld. So when Rogue assigned Natsu to take the ambassador's position in Pergrande, he assigned Gray to find out Jellal's whereabouts and any other information that would give Minstrel and Fiore the upper hand in this war.

He rested a cautious hand on the pommel of his sword and sent the soldiers and icy glare. _Back off, _those dark eyes said, and the soldiers willingly did so, retreating quickly away from the metaphorical permafrost forming from that frosty glower.

He snickered and continued down the hall, his stomach a testament to his now ravenous appetite. He could smell warm, delicious scents of baking bread wafting down the hallway, and so naturally, his feet led him towards the source, leading him down several hallways, down two flights of stairs, before coming to a stop before a wide oak door. The source of the delicious aroma lay just behind that door, like a present waiting for Gray to open.

He opened the door, and was greeted with a bustling kitchen staff, chopping greens, turning on ovens, plating delicious looking meals that had him drooling, _literally_. He quickly wiped his mouth and walked in.

A young woman looked at him quizzically. He had to admit, she was pretty damn cute. She had long blonde hair and wide brown eyes, eyes that portrayed nothing but innocence. She was dressed in a tunic style dress, leggings and boots.

He walked up to her. "Is there any possibility that I can snatch up one of those loaves?" he asked, nodding towards a rack of cooling bread. He knew from past experiences- ones he'd never speak of- where taking things without asking involved some nasty swearing and followed up with a grisly lump on the head.

She chuckled, and walked past him, reaching out to take one of the cooling loaves. "Well that's a first," she said, turning back to him and pressing it into his hand. "A guard actually asking first instead of taking."

"Oh," Gray said, startled. He looked down at the bread in his hand, breathing in its sweet, delicious aroma. "Well, actually, I'm not a guard. I'm-"

"Oh," the girl said, her mouth dropping. "I'm sorry! You're that new soldier who Erza met yesterday!" She wrung her hands apologetically. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to confuse you with the other guards. I should have known. You're too nice to be one of them."

"Erza?" he asked, immediately thinking of the beautiful red haired servant. His hand rose and clutched at the necklace that lay hidden underneath his shirt. "You know her?"

The blonde smiled. "Who doesn't know Erza? She's possibly the bravest person I know. She also shares a room with me. We're friends." She paused and looked at him, frowning as she did so. Then she continued. "Again, sorry," she said, reaching forward and offering her hand. "The name is Lucy. Lucy Heartfilia. You?"

He reached out and clasped her hand in a firm shake. "Gray," he said. "Gray Fullbuster, Ambassador Zancrow's-" he inwardly cringed at the lie- "guard. Pleasure to meet you."

He let go of her hand and smiled. "So you're a friend of Scarlet," he mused. "Brave, huh?"

Lucy nodded. "Oh, it's nothing like burning bridges, I'm afraid. She has a strong spirit and a proud heart, and sometimes, she allows it to shine forth."

Gray frowned upon hearing this. "Excuse me?" he asked. "I'm not quite sure what it is that you mean."

Lucy turned, gesturing to Gray for him to follow her. "She doesn't exactly love the nobles," she explained, walking out of the kitchens with Gray in tow. "It's hard for someone to love royalty when they are the reason why someone has suffered so much."

"You mean to say that Erza wasn't originally a servant here?"

Lucy laughed, a mirthless, cold chuckle filled with bitterness. "Do you think any of us here would want to be servants of our own accord?" she asked him, looking at him with dark eyes full of asperity.

Gray's eyes widened. "So y-you were..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

"Kidnapped?" Lucy raised and eyebrow, finishing his sentence. "Yes. In most cases, our families and towns were spared, but Erza wasn't so lucky. Her parents were murdered, her house was burned, and her village was pillaged, all to steal the girls of the town. So now, she fights against the very people who destroyed everything she loved."

"Fights'" Gray echoed. They were walking down an empty hall, and their voices reverberated off the cold stone walls.

Lucy shrugged. "Little things, really. She can't blatantly revolt against the nobles without asking for a death wish, so she commits tiny acts of rebellion, subtle ways of defying Pergrande. She doesn't always do what she's told."

Gray frowned, taking this all in. So she's a rebel, he mused. That's good news. A big help if I want to sway her feelings to defy her mistress, Minerva.

Lucy stopped abruptly, forcing Gray out of his reverie and pause in order to prevent himself from walking straight into her. "Excuse me," she said, putting a hand on his arm to steady him. She nodded regretfully down the hallway, which split into two different directions. "I must go now. It's time to start my duties."

"Hold on," Gray said, taking her hand to prevent her from leaving just yet. She looked questioningly at him for a moment.

"Yes," she inquired, removing her hand from his and smoothing out her dress.

"Where will I find Erza today?" he asked. "She's yet to give me a full tour of this castle." So I can try and find Jellal, he thought to himself.

Lucy smiled. "She'll be around," was all she said, turning around. She began to walk down the hall, giving Gray a final wave. "Odds are, she'll find you before you find her." And then she was gone.

Gray frowned. That wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for, but it would have to do. After all, they were bound to meet up at some point in this god forsaken castle. It wasn't that big.

He started walking again, taking the opposite corridor Lucy had taken. He thought about her words carefully, letting them roll over and over in his mind.

"_Her parents were murdered, her house was burned, and her village was pillaged, all to steal the girls of the town."_

What and abominable and vulgar attack. The very idea sickened Gray to the very core, and he had the sudden urge to torch this castle and everyone in it. Pergrande was rotten to the core, and this country deserved nothing but to be destroyed.

Then he wiped that thought out of his mind. No, he thought angrily, disgusted at himself. There are thousands of people in Pergrande who are innocent. _They_ don't deserve to die. The royals do.

"_So now, she fights against the very people who destroyed everything she loved."_

Gray smiled. "So the rose does have thorns," he murmured.

_Beauty disguises the beast inside._

* * *

It was after ten in the morning now, and Gray had done nothing but pace the halls around his chambers with Natsu, grinding his teeth and gripping his sword. He was starting to get nervous now, since Natsu had been in a meeting with Rufus for over _three hours_ now.

Did a war meeting take this long? Gray wondered anxiously, stopping for a moment to lean up against the wall. He took a deep breath. Natsu was always good at these undercover missions, but there were times when he made a mistake, dropped the facade, and ended up in a twist. Gray hoped that this wasn't the case.

He'd met Natsu after a few years serving with the Intelligence force. Natsu was a year younger than Gray, and was currently in his second year in the Secret Service, a branch of Intelligence whose main operative was to place sleepers amidst the enemy.

They hadn't exactly started out as friends. In fact, their first encounter involved a fight and ended with a bullet lodged in Natsu's shoulder and a knife wound tracing its way down Gray's arm.

_Gray took a shallow, silent breath, holding his gun out in front of him. He slunk down the tunnel, his eyes aching as he searched the shadows for any signs of life._

_It was his third mission this month: to infiltrate one of the mines that Pergrande shut down a few years ago, in the country of Iceberg. However, word was they were secretly starting it up again, mining the precious stones the mine was well known for._

_Gray slinked down the tunnel, one hand feeling the rock wall beside him, the other clenching his gun. He frowned. He was nearing a curve in the tunnel; the hand touch the rocks could feel the bend in the shaft._

_He paused, placing both hands on the gun. Now that he had stopped, he could sense something ahead._

_It wasn't an obvious presence. Gray had been trained in the art of stealth, so he could pinpoint exactly what was happening even in the stark darkness. Now he closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to see what his eyes could not._

_He could hear breathing. It was very faint, like the other being down in the tunnel was suppressing its breath, taking in only the slightest bits of air. And whoever they were, they were close._

_So whoever it is, Gray thought, his fingers tightening on the trigger. It's someone trained in stealth, like me._

_He allowed a wry grin to touch his lips. Well then, he thought, his muscles tensing. This ought to be fun._

_He dived out from his hiding spot, pointing his gun in the direction of the presence and fired to quick rounds. He heard a grunt of pain before he hit the ground, rolling as he did so, and came up, pressing himself to the opposite wall._

_But his enemy was quick. Even in obvious pain, the other being dived forward, catching Gray on the shoulder and pulling him to the ground._

_Gray growled in frustration as his gun was knocked from his hand. The other person, sensing Gray's plight, dove down. Gray had a sudden glimpse of something glinting off the rocks before he rolled, feeling the woosh of air as that glinting object flew past his ear, and moments later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a blade ricocheting off the hard rocks underfoot, and felt the pain as the knife managed to slice his arm at the same moment._

_With a yell, Gray dived for the other person, catching them around the middle. Male, muscular build, average height, Gray thought before they crashed down. He felt a few sharp jabs to his stomach from the other man's knee, and winced slightly._

_The other man cursed angrily a few times and threw Gray off. Before he could dive again however, Gray was suddenly blinded by the bright light of a flare, illuminating the tunnel in its red glow._

_Before him stood a young man about his age, with hair tainted a pinkish hue and sharp eyes, narrowed to slits. He wore plain black fatigues, and in his hand he held a sharp hunting knife, the edge smeared with Gray's blood. One arm hung uselessly by his side, dripping with blood, and his entire shoulder was soaked._

_He grinned ferociously at Gray. "You got some nice skills there," he snarled. "How'd you sense me coming?"_

_Gray shrugged, clenching his arm where hot blood pulsed out of his wound. It wasn't a very long cut, but it was deep. "Your breathing gave you away," he pointed out. "You take too many shallow breaths, and that causes you to make little puffing noises. Those are easy to hear."_

_The other man narrowed his eyes. "Ah damn," he grumbled. "I knew I should've listened to Commander Mass..."_

_At those words, Gray froze. Did he just hear this man correctly. What he said..._

"_C-Commander Mass?" he choked out. He was suddenly hit with the memories from the Academy with Jellal, and Rogue._

_The other man narrowed his eyes. "What's it to you?" he asked angrily, looking at Gray suspiciously._

_Gray felt weak in the knees. "Commander Mass..." he took a breath. "He was my trainer in the Academy. You and I... we're fellow Fiore agents."_

Gray couldn't help the dry smile from touching his lips. So their first encounter hadn't exactly been what they expected. But now they were the best of friends- with the occasional, no, _daily, _squabble- and partners in their fields of expertise.

He sighed. Even though Natsu could be infuriating sometimes, Gray couldn't help but feel worried for him. After all, they were together in this. Together, they _had _bring Jellal home.

_A _sudden "A-hem" jolted Gray out of his thoughts and into reality. He blinked, and looked up, a bit disoriented. He hadn't realized how out of it he'd been.

A young man, possibly in his mid-twenties, stood before him. His outfit revealed to Gray that he was a simple palace guard. He had messy black hair and odd blue eyes, like a mix between blue and green. He stood before Gray and shifted slightly, and uncomfortable air around him.

"Can I help you?" Gray asked politely, straightening up. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the man, who looked, well, _extremely _nervous.

"Are you Gray Fullbuster?" the man asked quietly. His eyes shifted, as if he was guilty of some transgression and now feared being caught in the act.

"Yes," Gray said, unsure of where this topic was headed. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword just in case. "That would be my name."

The man looked relieved. "Jellal sent me to find you."

_Jellal._

Gray's eyes widened. "Jellal?" he echoed, shock resonating through him. He lurched forward, grabbing the man by the lapels of his jacket. "Where is he? Is he okay? What are-"

"Jellal is fine," the man interrupted, pulling away from Gray's grasp. "He sent me to tell you that he hasn't been harmed."

"But where is he?" Gray asked. "I went to look for him the other day in the cells, and he wasn't there. Then I'm told that he was taken to see Minerva, and now I can't find him. So _where is he?'_

He wasn't sure if he should have divulged that much information to the man, seeing as he didn't even know him, but then again, he knew Jellal, and this man did know his name. He had to trust that.

"My name is Doranbolt," the man said. "Jellal sent me to find you. He was taken by Minerva because she wants him for herself. He wants you to know that he's fighting her, but he's locked up and guarded closely."

While Doranbolt was speaking, Gray's ears picked up on a slight sound behind him. His eyes slid back, but he saw nothing, and so he focused back on Doranbolt. But he kept himself alert.

Gray raised and eyebrow. "Continue," he said quietly.

Doranbolt raised a hand. "I'm one of his guards. Jellal wants to talk with you. He's planning and escape, and he needs your help."

_Well shit._

This news was now in conflict with Gray's. He narrowed his eyes. What in the world? Didn't Jellal get the message when Gray told him that both he and Natsu were going to get him out of there? Gray was sure that he'd been explicitly _clear._

He needed to fix this. Something had to be done, otherwise their mission would be a failure. Jellal was cunning and smart, but he'd never make it out of the castle, least of all Pergrande, on his own. He _needed _help.

"When?" Gray asked, looking at Doranbolt. He heard another slight sound, like a intake of breath, but ignored it.

The dark haired man turned. "I'll come for you tonight," he said. "Before I go to take my shift. Wait for me."

Gray watched his receding back retreating down the hall. He pursed his lips, well aware of how dangerous the situation was. He was standing on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong move would send him hurtling to his death.

He heard a sudden rustling behind him, and he was reminded of the sounds he heard when conversing with Doranbolt. He sighed. Honestly, he thought. Don't people even know how to spy on others properly?

He turned and sent an icy glare towards the end of the corridor, which took a sharp turn to the right. He placed a hand on his sword.

"You can come out now."


	9. Dark Noose

**A/N: So I'm supposed to be back from my hiatus... but typing around 5,000 words is a lot harder than you may think...**

**To the guest who asked if this is Jerza, then yes, yes it is.**

**To the guest who asked if it was Natsu who messed with Commander Mass's hat, you are correct.**

**And to the guest who asked about Grayza _and_ Jerza, I can say that there are elements of both in this story, as well as in this chapter.**

**Oh, and in regards to FT chapter 438, I refuse to change Doranbolt's name in this to Mest. Just thought I'd let you guys know.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited. It is you guys who keep this story alive and going, so I really want to thank you for that. You guys are seriously amazing, and I don't know what I'd do without you.**

* * *

**Chapter nine: Dark Noose**

She decided that morning that Fate would not be let off so easily. No, Jellal Fernandes would not have to suffer the rest of his days trapped in Pergrande as Minerva's toy. Erza refused to let that happen. So she woke up that morning with a devious plan to find him and sneak him out of the castle.

After all, she _was_ a rebel.

Lucy was gone by the time she woke up. So the redhead yawned and rose wearily, seeing her breath billowing out in puffy, white clouds. She shivered, dropping the blanket from around her shoulders and reaching for her clothes.

She dressed quickly, donning a pair of soft, black breeches and a white shirt, tucking it into her belt. Soft, worn boots covered her feet. Erza shivered in the clothing; the fabric wasn't warm yet and chilled her skin.

Tying her hair up into a ponytail, Erza made her way to the door of her tiny room. Heaving a tired sigh, she opened the door to the hustle and bustle of the servants quarters.

It was late Sunday morning, so the workload today was rather light. Erza made her way to the Job Board, where the assignments for the day was posted. Under her name, the words, _Garden _and _Master suite_ were written.

The _Master suite_ meant Minerva required her to be in her quarters. Erza looked at the time, noticing that seven in the evening was rather late in the day to be cleaning the room- if that was what the princess required.

"Good morning Erza," a cheerful voice said, making the redhead turn around curiously. Behind her, garbed in a plain black dress, stood a young woman with pure white hair and bright blue eyes. She had a playful light of innocence in those eyes and a gentle smile on her lips. In her hands was a covered basket from which the smell of fresh bread was slowly wafting out.

Erza's stomach growled.

The other woman laughed and slipped a hand inside the wicker, pulling forth a small loaf of warm bread. "Sounds like someone's rather hungry," she said, offering the food to Erza, who accepted it with a playful snatch and a warm smile.

"Morning to you too, Mira," Erza retorted airily, giving the woman a light smile. Mira, or Mirajane, was another maidservant, however she reported directly to King Ivan rather than Princess Minerva. Erza liked Mira; she, along with Lucy, was one of the redhead's few friends in the castle.

"What's your day looking like?" Mira asked, falling in step with Erza. She reached into the basket and pulled out a loaf for herself, nodding a "good morning" to a passing serving girl.

Taking a bite of the bread, Erza looked back at the board for a quick look. "I have to go take care of the Minerva's garden again," she said regretfully. "It seems like her royal highness wants me to freeze to death going outside to tend to her roses these days."

"She's taken quite a liking to those roses," Mira noted thoughtfully, chewing on her bread. "Wonder what it's for."

"She said something about a ball for Rufus's birthday in a few days," Erza said, heading for the seating lounge at the end of the hall, where several other servants were relaxing. "She needed the flowers for decoration or something like that."

Mira frowned. "Rufus doesn't like parties," she said. "He likes women."

"How do you know that?"

Mira stopped and paused, biting her lip. There was a moment of complete fear in her eyes when that topic was brought up. It took Erza about two seconds before she figured it out.

"What?" She gasped, grabbing Mira's arm. "He didn't-"

"No," Mira whispered, her eyes downcast. "But he came close."

The two women turned and simultaneously slipped into an alcove where they'd be safe from prying eyes. Erza had her hand around Mira's wrist; she could feel the gentle woman's trembling and worried for her friend.

"It happened a few years ago," Mira murmured, her eyes becoming unfocused as she relived the memory. "My little sister, Lisanna, accidentally knocked a vase over, right on top of Rufus. It smashed all over his face and ruined his clothes. Of course, he was furious. He attempted to punish Lisanna, trying to drag her away, but I got in between and begged for mercy.

"Of course, he told me that someone had to pay, and offered myself in Lisanna's stead." Mira grimaced, gesturing to herself. "I think the only reason why he accepted was because I was begging, on my knees, giving him the 'wide, pleading blue eyes' look."

"So what happened?" Erza asked gently, not letting go of Mira's hand.

The white haired girl sighed. "He made me come to his chambers at midnight. I figured he was just going to give me the beating of a lifetime," she confessed. "But instead, he grabbed me by the throat and threw me on his bed, jumping on top of me."

Erza gasped, anger flaring. The retelling of this story chilled her to the very core, filling her blood with hatred towards the man who would attack such an innocent woman.

"I was scared for my life, and I tried to fight," Mira continued. "But he had caught me by surprise, and I was afraid he'd kill me, or _Lisanna_, if I didn't do what he asked of me. And I couldn't let that happen. I was willing to have to do this if it meant sparing Lisanna's life.

"But then someone came in, and yanked Rufus off of me. It was too dark to see who it was, but I saw light colored hair, like the color of sunlight. A male voice yelled at me to get out, and I did. I didn't look back."

"And you never saw who saved you?" Erza questioned.

Mira shook her head. "No," she said. "But as I left, I happened to see something distinguishable in my peripheral vision. There was a lightning shaped scar on his face that I caught a glimpse of, just before I got out of the room."

Erza sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whichever god that sent Mira's savior that night. "My god," she whispered, leaning forward to hug the white haired girl. "That man who saved you is a godsend. But what happened afterwards?"

"Nothing," Mira murmured. "Rufus never sent for me or for Lisanna ever again. Last year I sent Lisanna away with all of last year's pay. I sent her to Sin, where she would be guaranteed a job, where she'd be _safe._ I didn't want to take any chances of Rufus trying anything on her."

"Do you still keep in touch?" Erza murmured. "Is she okay in Sin?"

"She sends letters when she can," Mira said. "I didn't send her alone, thought. Our brother, Elfman, went with her to ensure that she'd be alright."

Erza shook her head angrily, her eyes narrowing. "I want to kill Rufus after hearing that," she growled. "He's nothing but a perverse, disgusting blue blood who enjoys ripping families apart and creating despair wherever he goes."

It was now Mira's turn to clutch Erza's wrist. "No," Mira said, glaring into Erza's eyes. "I know how much you hate the royal family for what they did to you, but you can't get yourself in trouble, Erza. Rufus will do much worse to you than me, and I don't think my hero is around anymore to save another damsel in distress."

"I'm not just angry about what these mongrels did to my family," Erza hissed. "I'm angry for what they did to every servant in this castle. I'm angry that they have little to no care for the people that they've hurt. I'm _angry_ that they keep poor people locked away in this castle for their own enjoyment!" She suddenly realized that she was no longer talking about the servants in the castle, but rather she was talking about Jellal, and how he was trapped in Minerva's talons.

Mira caught on quickly. "I have a feeling we're not talking about us anymore," she noted carefully. "Who is it that's caught your attention?"

Erza flushed and looked away. "It's nothing," she murmured.

"I don't think it's nothing," Mira said. "If this someone has gotten you this worked up, they _must _be important to you. So who is it?"

Erza sighed. "He's a prisoner of war, being held captive by Minerva for her own pleasures. I met him several days ago, picking roses for the princess. Oh Mira, he's like no other. There's so much pain, so much _sorrow_ in his eyes, I can't stand it. He's been here for so long, and all he wants is to go home. But he was taken to Minerva and I'm scared as to what she'll do to him. He doesn't deserve this."

Mira frowned. "Wait," she whispered. "So he's not that black haired young man I saw you walking with the other day?" Her voice was confused, and there was a puzzled look in her eyes as she gazed at the redhead.

Erza blushed, a deep crimson that spread like wildfire over her cheeks. "N-no," she began, looking away. "He's just an acquaintance. He's a soldier that was accompanying and ambassador here, so I gave him a tour of the castle."

Mira raised a skeptical eyebrow. "An "acquaintance?"" she asked. "I don't _he_ thinks that."

The redhead couldn't help but chuckle at that ridiculous comment. "Come on, Mirajane," she scoffed, turning away. "You can't seriously believe that. We've barely even met." But she couldn't help but blush at the mention of Gray and his handsome looks. With his thick, black hair and dark, intense eyes, she couldn't help the light fluttering in her heart at the thought of him.

But then there was Jellal, whose very presence impacted her like nothing else. And it wasn't because of his marking or the way his green eyes burned like fire, _no_, it was something else. The way he carried himself, with so much mystery and sorrow, made him like a puzzle that Erza longed to solve.

"I just think he's far more interested in you than you may think," Mira continued, getting up from her crouching position. She made her way past Erza and gave the redhead a light squeeze on the shoulder as she brushed past. "You _are _a very beautiful woman."

Erza shook her head and followed the white haired woman out of the crevice, making sure that no one saw them sneaking out. "Even so," she began as Mira turned to go. "It's not as if I want to be with him in the first place."

Mira looked at her. "Erza," she began quietly. "It doesn't matter who you choose, as long as they choose you too. But be careful, and don't do anything rash," she added. "There are eyes everywhere in this castle."

With her final words, Mira waved a cheerful goodbye and turned to go, walking down the hall and exiting the servant common rooms. Erza watched her go, wondering how the white haired woman could be so jovial in a place full of sorrow.

She turned around and made her way back to her room, slipping inside to grab her cloak. It was better to go outside and tend to the flowers now, rather than procrastinate and wait until the last minute. Plus, she always felt safer in the greenhouse, like it was her small enclosure of solitude, sheltered from the harsh outdoors.

And of course, it was the place when she first spoke with _him_.

Throwing her cloak on, Erza pulled it tight around her throat, then made her way quickly to the door to face the brutal cold outside.

* * *

He'd been wondering when she'd make an appearance. So when it was Minerva, and not Doranbolt, that showed up in the morning, Jellal couldn't help but think, _So now it begins._

Instead, when he was woken up to the sound of his door opening, Minerva came in with a tray and a pile of suspicious clothing tucked neatly under one arm. She approached him with a sultry smile on her face while he scrambled to a sitting position, staring at her warily as she drew near.

She set the tray on the dresser and came closer to the bed. "Good morning," she said enthusiastically, sitting down on the mattress next to him. She smiled. "Did you sleep well? I do hope the bed is to your liking."

Jellal did not respond.

She sighed. "Forgive me for not coming to you sooner," she said. "I've been very busy and haven't had the time to come and check up on you. I do hope you didn't think I forgot."

_How I wish you did_, Jellal thought bitterly.

She reached forward and plucked a piece of freshly baked bread off the tray. Handing it to him, she smiled and placed it in his lap. "Eat," she advised. "You must be hungry."

He eyed the bread warily, but the smell was so inviting and delicious, he couldn't help but pick it up and stare at it longingly. He heard Minerva say, "Go ahead," which fueled his desire to eat. He took a bite.

Minerva smiled deviously as he chewed and swallowed. "I figured you'd be hungry," she said in satisfaction.

He ignored her and continued eating the bread, chewing carefully. When he finished, he brushed his hands clean and then resorted back to staring at her carefully.

She held up the clothing. "These are just some clean clothes I took from my brother Rufus," she explained, setting them down so they created a barrier between their bodies. "Those ones that you are in are dirty and ragged. You deserve some fresh, clean clothes. I'm sure you'll fit."

_What do you want from me?_

She leaned forward suddenly and placed a cold hand on his. He tried to yank it away, jerking as she did so, but her nails dug into his skin, holding him in place. He gritted his teeth as she leaned in close.

"My dearest Jellal," she whispered seductively, purring the words into his ear. Her voice, which was like melted chocolate, echoed in his head and muddled his thoughts. "Don't try to fight me, handsome one. I could give you everything, if you just give in. Don't fight."

There was something that kept pulling at his mind, distracting him from her voice. Her hands were now running up and down his arms, and he had the strange feeling that he was being pushed backwards. But for some reason, he couldn't process what was actually happening. It was like his mind was in a fog.

_The bread! It's drugged! _he realized only too late. His thoughts turned muddled and hazy.

There was the slightest pressure on his lips, and for a moment, Jellal's thoughts cleared. He was laying on his back, Minerva pressed down on top of him, her lips on his. He jerked, only to find his arms pinned above his head. He knew he was stronger than she was, however, years of malnutrition and the drug effects were numbing his muscles.

Suddenly, she broke contact with him and sat up, still holding his arms. He sputtered and gasped, trying to shake free from the drug's hold on him. He glared up at Minerva. "Y-you," he began shakily, his voice sounding weak. "You disgust me."

She smiled and ran a finger down his chin, flicking a sharp nail against the side of his face, making him flinch. "That's only because you refuse to submit to me," she whispered. "If you were to only give in, you'd feel nothing but pleasure for the rest of your life. Don't you want me?"

At that moment, Erza's face came sharply into focus in his mind. She was smiling at him, her eyes warm and full of laughter. He saw her red hair, cascading softly down her back, and he knew that if there was anyone he wanted, it was _her._

"No," he hissed, glaring up at Minerva. The edges of his sight was now going blurry, and he figured it was another effect of the drug. She shook his head, trying to clear his vision. "I want nothing to do with you."

She smirked, letting go of his hands and slipping off his body. "You will, Jellal Fernandes," she murmured, walking away while he lay helplessly on the bed. "In time, you will."

The door closed behind her, and Jellal finally succumbed to the drug, falling into a listless sleep where a beautiful red haired woman held him in her embrace.

* * *

As soon as she was done tending to the roses, Erza decided she would roam the castle in search for the room where they took Jellal. She needed to see him again, and then she'd break him free and find some way to smuggle him out of Pergrande.

The rose bushes, heavy with their flowers, drooped in Erza's hands as she delicately cut the flowers. She only cut the ones that were just beginning to wilt, for they were dying and needed to be cut so the healthy flowers could flourish. After a half hour of working, a substantial pile of wilted roses lay at her feet. Once she was done with that, she'd have to cut some fresh flowers to bring to Minerva, since the princess requested it.

Why Minerva wanted Erza to bring her roses for the prince's birthday ball was a baffling idea, since Mira said that the Prince hated parties. But at this point, Erza didn't care. She _had_ to do what Minerva wanted if she wanted to be on the princess's good side.

It was all to save Jellal. Erza didn't care what happened to her. At this point, all Erza wanted was to save Jellal from suffering.

Suddenly, there was a creaking noise behind her and a wintery breeze swept in, chilling Erza. A squeak was torn from her lips and she whirled around to find the draft.

Immediately, a gasp was drawn from her lips. Standing before her was a man.

There was something so _offsetting_, so disturbing, that forced Erza to step backwards in fear. The way his eyes stared into her own, like they were seeing right _into_ her, was so unnerving, it was chilling.

He had long blonde hair, pulled back into a tail that swept across his shoulder and draped down his chest. He wore a white dress shirt tucked into black suede pants, and a red cape draped over his shoulders. The material was so fine that Erza estimated one piece of that cloak could feed her for several months.

But his _eyes._ Dark green, almost black, and full of a crazed malice. The madness in his eyes sent shivers racing up Erza's spine. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She knew who he was; she could _feel _it.

This was the man that had harassed Mira.

This was the prince.

He smiled serenely at her, which contrasted sharply with the insanity in his eyes. "Scarlet," he breathed, his eyes roaming over her features.

Erza gasped, not sure if he was referring to her name or her hair. Either one was offsetting. If it were Jellal or Gray, the situation would have been drastically different, but this man made her cringe.

"You're hair," he continued. "She was right."

That was enough to send Erza's blood racing in her chest. Heart thumping frantically, she gathered up her roses and made her way forward, keeping her eyes low. _You can do this_, she thought to herself as she got closer to him. _Just breathe and pass him-_

His hand shot out of nowhere and latched onto her upper arm, holding onto her tightly. She yelped and pulled away, but his grip on her arm was like iron. He grinned and bent close, and her eyes squeezed shut.

His nose pressed against the hollow of her throat, and she cried out in fear. He inhaled her deeply, and Erza felt tears come to her eyes. _No_, she thought angrily. _I don't want this. I don't-_

He pulled away and let go, gently pushing her away. "Roses," he whispered. "In winter. How amusing." His eyes burned deeply into hers, and she was held there, frozen and captivated by the manic glee burning in them. "How _fitting."_

She ran, twisting and racing for the door of the greenhouse, braving the harsh weather outside rather than spend another second with the crazed man. The sound of his laughter filled her ears as she sprinted across the courtyard.

She kept running until she made it past the kitchens and into the main halls of the castle. She was still chilled to the bone, but not from the cold. Rather, it was from the way the prince had _touched_ her like that. She could still feel his hands on her, his face against her throat.

_No!_ She thought, hugging herself and trying to shake off the feeling of disgust. She needed a distraction, anything to get her mind off the feeling of his hands on her-

"Are you Gray Fullbuster?" The sudden voice startled Erza out of her reveries. She jerked and turned, noticing that she was near the intersection of two hallways. Feeling bold, she crept to the end of the corridor and poked her head cautiously around the bend.

"Yes," said a young man facing away from her, with a familiar head of black hair. Erza sighed, relieved that she recognized such a familiar figure. But she stayed back, afraid of revealing herself too soon.

"That would be my name," Gray continued, resting a hand on the pommel of his sword.

The other man, also with black hair, looked relieved. He spoke quietly, so Erza had to strain to hear his words. When she did, her blood ran cold.

"_Jellal sent me to find you."_

The name hit Erza like a kick in the gut. She watched, silently, as Gray reacted abruptly, jerking forward and grabbing for the man's coat. "Where is he? Is he okay? What..."

His voice trailed off as Erza retreated into her mind. The blood rushing in her ears was roaring like the ocean, drowning everything out.

_He knows Jellal. _She couldn't believe it.

_"He was deployed to the front lines as soon as we were drafted. I thought I'd never see him again. I thought he had been killed in action, since he seemed to have fallen off the face of this earth. But I actually ran into him not too long ago. A friend and I were searching for his whereabouts, and I found him."_

"I see," she breathed. "So you came here to Pergrande to find him."

_"His name is Jellal Fernandes."_

Her words came floating back through her mind, and she remembered how Gray's eyes had flashed with interest and panic for a fleeting moment. It wasn't because he was actually interested, it was because he _knew_ Jellal.

_"You're a maid of the Princess? Well, that's nice. I'm new here, and you seem to be in good standings with the princess since you're one of her servants. Maybe you could show me around, help me get to know this place better?"_

"He could care less about touring the castle," Erza whispered, turning and poking her head around the corner again. "He just wanted to find Jellal. He _used_ me!" She ignored the flash of guilt that raced through her because yes, she also used him as an excuse to try and find Jellal. But he didn't have to know that.

"My name is Doranbolt," the man was saying as Gray clutched onto his jacket. "Jellal sent me to find you. He was taken by Minerva because she wants him for herself. He wants you to know that he's fighting her, but he's locked up and guarded closely."

Erza drew back, not noticing that Gray had picked up on her slight movement. Her heart was pounding in her chest. _Oh thank god,_ she thought desperately. _He's fighting her._

"...Jellal wants to talk with you. He's planning an escape, and he needs your help."

_Whaat?! _She whirled, pressing her face against the side of the wall to catch the conversation.

"When?" Gray asked. Erza took a breath, the air catching in her throat.

"I'll come for you tonight," Doranbolt said. "Before I go to take my shift. Wait for me."

Erza heard the faint sounds of retreating footsteps. She sagged against the wall, closing her eyes. _He's okay. He's okay,_ she kept thinking.

Now if she could follow Gray and this Doranbolt later on tonight and wait while they found Jellal, she could sneak into his room later and talk to him, to try and find out what he was planning. May she could help, somehow, anything-

"You can come out now." Gray's voice cut through Erza's thoughts. She jerked, her eyes opening from shock.

_Damnit_.

_How did he know I was here?_ She thought angrily, biting her lip. _He's just a simple guard. _Then she paused, frowning. _No, _she realized. _Everything he's told me has been a lie. _

She straightened her shoulders. _Time for some damn answers, _she thought angrily. Then she stepped out from her hiding place, meeting Gray's shocked gaze.

"Hello, Gray Fullbuster," she said icily, glaring angrily at him. "I think it's time you told me the truth, don't you think?"

* * *

Natsu growled angrily as he sat in the empty room, tapping his fingers listlessly on the mahogany table. The chair he was sitting in was rather uncomfortable, and for the nth time, he shifted and tried to find a more comfortable position.

"How long until the Prince arrives?" He drawled to the guard at the door. "It has been at least three hours since I was told our meeting was to commence."

The guard bowed respectfully at Natsu. "Apologies, Ambassador Zancrow," he said ruefully. "Prince Rufus was called away on emergency business for a while. He should be here shortly."

Natsu snarled angrily. "Can you at least tell me how long I've been sitting here?" he asked again.

The guard smiled sheepishly. "Three and a half hours, sir."

_For the love of-_

The sudden sound of a door opening jolted Natsu out of his thoughts. He straightened up and looked towards the door. As soon as the giant wooden door reached its full capacity, a young man stepped in.

He had long blonde hair, draping over his shoulder. Dressed in a fancy white shirt, black pants, and a red cape, Natsu had to guess that this was the Prince Rufus. No one else could look that fancy yet have an insanity in his eyes like a spawn of the royal family.

Natsu stood up and opened his mouth in greeting, but the prince held up a gloved hand. "Peace, Ambassador Zancrow," he said in a sultry smooth voice. He stepped into the room and smiled eerily at Natsu. "I held you up for far too long. Thank you for waiting for me."

Natsu shook his head and sat back down. "No worries," he said through gritted teeth. "It wasn't a bother."

The prince came in closer. "A family member decided to visit at the last minute," Rufus said. "I hope you don't mind, but he'll be joining us for the beginning of the meeting."

Natsu shook his head.

The prince turned and nodded towards the door. Through narrowed eyes, Natsu watched in interest as a young man about his age stepped in, a grim look upon his face.

He wore a dark blue jacket with a high collar, decorated with gold medals that signified his high ranking in the Pergrande Army. Black fatigues covered his legs, tucked into high combat boots. There were two gun holsters on his belt, empty and abandoned. A sword was held in one hand.\

He had light blonde hair, a shade paler than Rufus's. Instead of dark green eyes, like Rufus and his sister Minerva, this young man had eyes the color of the ocean, dark blue, almost as dark as Gray's. A scar sat above his right eye, cutting diagonally through his eyebrow.

Natsu nodded in a greeting, to which the blonde nodded in return. Rufus clapped a hand on the blonde's arm. "Zancrow," Rufus said, gesturing to his companion. "This is my cousin, General Eucliffe of the Pergrande Royal Army."

The blonde smiled. "Call me Sting," he said cordially. "And welcome to Pergrande, Ambassador Zancrow. Shall we get to business?"

* * *

**A/N: Yep, I do love leaving cliffys like that. lol jk I actually don't...it sort of just happens.**

**I hope to update as soon as I can, since I'm really happy with how this is playing out. Thanks for reading, R&amp;R?**

**Fairy Tail these days (both the manga and the anime) have made me shed nonstop tears over the past few weeks from all the feels. You guys feeling the same as me?**

**-Wolf**


	10. Where Paths Meet

**A/N: I don't think I've been more disappointed in myself at all. This chapter was by far the hardest to write. I just couldn't seem to get my fingers to type, and my brain felt like mush. It's taken me weeks to write this, and I am not happy with how it turned out.**

**I've been in a bit of a sad mood, to be honest. It's been hard for me to write, and some of my stories that I've worked so hard on just haven't been getting a lot of feedback, and I've been really down. I work so hard, but I guess it's just not enough.**

**Anyway, I know you guys have been dying to read this chapter. Please don't be mad at this disappointing piece of crap. It's been a hard few weeks. So please, no flames. Encouragement is greatly ****appreciated**

* * *

**Chapter ten: Where Paths Meet**

Jellal Fernandes was not having a good day. In fact, after a long, in-depth analysis of his life so far, he concluded that his was probably was the crappiest life a person could have. It was the type of life that he wouldn't have condemned any other person to live.

After waking up from his drug-induced coma by a concerned Doranbolt, he drank some water to erase the disgusting taste from his mouth, but he couldn't seem to stomach any food. He thought he slept through an entire day, but in reality it was only an hour or so.

Once Doranbolt left, Jellal curled up in a corner, wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing them close to his chest. He saw the clothes Minerva left for him sitting on the corner of the bed and shuddered, closing his eyes as waves of disgust washed over him. The touch of her lips on his, the feeling of her nails digging into his skin was still a fresh imprint on his mind and body.

Never before had someone ever done that to him. The feel of unwanted hands roaming his body made him feel so _unclean_ and distraught. Minerva had drugged him to the point of being unable to fight back, and then used this to her advantage. Although she didn't, well, _take him_, she did leave him with scarring memories nonetheless.

How someone could go through something that traumatic and come out unscathed was practically null and void.

He rested his head on his shoulders. As always, a cold feeling settled in the room and chilled Jellal to the core, even though it was rather warm. It was a different kind of cold, the kind that freezes your mind and buries itself deep in your bones. The kind of chill that _never goes away._

He could feel the hours ticking by, but he didn't seem to care. Time moved slowly, sluggishly, but the longer Minerva stayed away, the less tense Jellal became. He knew she'd return, but he was thankful for these few hours of solace.

His eyes opened, glaring at the doors that held in prisoner in this room. _Damn you,_ he thought angrily. _You can't keep me trapped here forever._

He'd find a way out. After all, there was someone he needed to meet without the chains of captivity barring his way.

"Scarlet," he whispered. She too, was caged here, imprisoned so she couldn't fly properly. "I will get us out of here."

* * *

Gray usually didn't flinch when his life was in danger. It didn't bother him when he led his armies into battle. A fight with Natsu? He relished a challenge. Getting yelled at by his superiors? No biggie.

But the furious glare in Erza Scarlet's eyes had him positively _quaking_ in his boots.

"Hello, Gray Fullbuster," she said icily, glaring angrily at him. "I think it's time you told me the truth, don't you think?"

His training in the Intelligence had a lie on his tongue before his mind could even process the situation. But Erza pointed a finger at him and sent another glare in his direction. "Don't you dare," she hissed, spotting the fallacy in his eyes. "I want the truth."

The lie died in his throat. He just couldn't lie to her.

_"I just came from princess Minerva's quarters. There was a man that Minerva wanted to see, so I tidied her room for her. His name is Jellal Fernandes."_

He remembered when they first met, in that hallway, a few days ago. The emotions swirling around in Erza's brown eyes when she first spoke his friend's name had sent a shockwave racing down Gray's back, and now he knew.

_She loves him._

She may not know it, but he did. He saw it in her eyes that day, and now it was clear.

So there was no possible way he could lie to her.

Gray sighed. "Okay," he said, defeatedly. "I owe you an explanation. But not here. It's not safe. There are eyes everywhere."

She looked generally shocked. "You're not going to deflect the question?" she asked, surprise dancing across her face. "Most men do when back into a corner after being found out."

Gray snorted. "I'm not most men," he pointed out.

Her hand dropped. "It would seem so," she muttered. Then she sent another icy glare towards him. "The truth, all of it."

He reached out a hand. "Let's go somewhere away from prying eyes, alright? Then I'll tell you everything."

* * *

Two and a half hours into the meeting, and Natsu was at his wits end. They droned on and on about war and the country and financial issues and economic stability. Natsu had been well briefed before the mission so he could sit through the mission without looking too out of place, but he hadn't been briefed to prepare for the boredom of it all.

He was asked several questions about Bellum, and its ability to send aid to Pergrande. He gave some number, but his mind was miles away. He didn't like it, here in the castle, and would have given anything to be thousands of miles away, home, in Fiore.

But Fiore was nothing more than a barren wasteland now, destroyed by Pergrande's bombs. There were little to no survivors, and those in the resistance were now scattered throughout the allies' countries.

Finally, the meeting turned into a war council.

"How are plans going on the front, Sting," Rufus asked, turning to his relative. Next to him, Natsu perked, his eyes trained on the pale blonde as he began to speak.

"We are making progress, sir," Sting replied, sitting up straight. "Now that Fiore is no longer in the picture and our armies are strong in Iceberg and Desierto, we can begin preparations to move into Joya and Stella, which are both resisting our supremacy."

Natsu's teeth gritted at the mention of Fiore's destruction, but refrained from acting on his anger. He was undercover, and could not be revealed.

Rufus nodded. "Very well. How many other countries are still resisting us besides Minstrel?"

"Veronica and Seven have pledged their troops to Minstrel," Sting said. "Sin is still neutral at this point, and Caelum has sided with the enemy as well. Then there's Midi and Enca, which have declared neutrality, but spies have reported supplies and weapons being sent to Minstrel from these countries."

Natsu inwardly smirked. _Sin is not neutral anymore, friends. _

No, Sin, which had once declared neutrality, was neutral no more. About a month ago, they had sent General Rogue a letter that they would support Minstrel and Fiore, and that they'd also provide a safe haven in case anything dire would occur. And so, when Fiore was destroyed, those who survived were welcomed to Sin. Rogue himself, as well as Natsu and Gray, were stationed at Sin.

And Pergrande had no clue of this situation.

"So that's six countries that still won't recognize our sovereignty," Rufus snarled. "Burn them all to the ground."

"Sir," Natsu interrupted. "If I may, perhaps it would be easier to offer them some sort of reward for joining us?" He couldn't let their ally countries be destroyed without doing something. Later, he'd send a messenger pigeon to Rogue telling him of the news, but for now, he couldn't let this go.

"That's not like you, Zancrow," Sting interrupted. "I've heard that you simply can't wait to destroy the next resisting country after another. Cold feet?"

"No," Natsu swiftly replied. "But I have family in a few of those countries, and I'd like to save them from being blown to smithereens." He quickly covered up his slip, letting the lie flow smoothly over his tongue like wine.

Sting raised a brow. "Oh?" he said. "Is that so? Well then, since Bellum is such a great supporter of our cause, we may be able to do something. What do you think, my prince?"

Rufus closed his eyes, and Natsu held his breath. _Please..._

"Very well," Rufus said. His dark eyes shot to Natsu, a warning clear in those venomous eyes. "But I'm warning you, Ambassador Zancrow, if these countries do not accept our rule, then they will be no more, family or not. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," Natsu replied.

Rufus nodded, obviously pleased with Natsu's answer. "Very well then," he said, rising to his feet. "I declare this meeting a success. You may go."

The prince made his way to the door, Natsu and Sting hastily rising to their feet. After a short nod, Natsu made his leave, however, Sting reached out and grabbed him by the arm, slamming the door behind him at the same time.

"What the-" Natsu started, but was quickly silenced when the blade of Sting's sword pressed softly into the soft skin of his throat. He gulped, and met the burning gaze of the Pergrande general.

"I think it's time you told me who you were, _imposter_. I know Zancrow, and you are most definitely not him. So, _Pinky_, just who the hell are you?"

* * *

"I'm sorry that I kept it from you," Gray finished, staring solemnly into Erza's wide brown eyes. "Jellal is my friend, and I came here on a top secret mission to get him out. I didn't know you knew him until you spoke his name."

"But then you were going to use me to try and find him," Erza accused, folding her arms. They were sitting in Erza's room, Erza on her own bed and Gray occupying Lucy's. The redhead stood up from her mattress and began to pace the room. "That doesn't make me any happier."

"I know," Gray said. "And I'm sorry. But the mission-"

"Why are you telling me this?" Erza interrupted. "For the last half hour or so, you've poured out an entire confession to me. Why? You didn't have to tell me this. You could've easily ignored me, but instead you tell me everything. Why is that?"

Gray wasn't exactly sure why he was apologizing to this woman. It wasn't like he needed to. But the problem was, he _wanted _to. There was just something about her, something that Gray enjoyed. He didn't want to see her upset.

"I'm sorry," Gray repeated. "I just didn't want to hurt you."

Erza was quiet for a moment. Her eyes closed, and Gray held his breath. He could feel the anger radiating off of her, could see it in her tense body. He knew he upset her.

Her eyes opened, and a sea of deadly calm greeted him. "Fine, Gray Fullbuster," she said icily. "I'll forgive you, but on one condition."

He nodded wholeheartedly.

"You have to promise to let me help you."

His jaw dropped. Was he hearing her correctly? Did she just-

"I want to help you get Jellal out of this place," she continued. "Please let me."

Gray sighed. Part of him was desperate to let her, but another part didn't want her to. This was a dangerous mission, infiltrating the castle to find a missing POW. If they were caught...

But the fierce pleading in Erza's eyes stopped him. No matter what Gray felt, he couldn't ignore the power of Erza's feelings towards Jellal. He had no idea what happened between the two of them, yet Erza's emotions was proof of their relationship. So how could Gray not let her?

"Erza, this is a dangerous undertaking," Gray began. "I can't protect you."

She shook her head. "I don't need protection. Just let me help."

Gray sighed. "Very well," he whispered. "Just be careful."

She immediately brightened, a smile spreading on her face. "Thank you," she whispered, suddenly stepping forward and placing a gentle kiss on Gray's stubbled cheek. His eyes widened as she stepped away, and he put a hand to his face.

"So what do we do now?" She ask, oblivious to his inner turmoil at her sudden move.

It took Gray a few seconds to think. "First," he realized. "We should probably find where they're keeping Jellal. Then we can work from there. My partner, Natsu, is trying to find out what Pergrande is planning next. He can help us once we find Jellal."

Erza bit her lip, lost in thought. "I may have an idea where Jellal would be," she began slowly. "Since Minerva wants him, it would be obvious she'd keep him close. That would mean he's in the vicinity of her room."

"And where would that be?" Gray prodded.

Erza smirked. "I'll take you there. Come with me."

* * *

"Okay, friend," Natsu said good-naturedly. "How about we just talk things through, nice and easy-"

"Or you can tell me just who the hell you are," said Sting, no trace of emotion in his voice. The tip of his sword dug into Natsu's throat. "I'm the one asking questions here. You are in no position to barter."

"Okay," Natsu said. "You've caught me. You see-"

In the middle of his sentence, Natsu gave a hard jerk, hissing slightly when the tip of Sting's sword cut a chunk out of his neck. But the damage was done, and Natsu was able to slip out of Sting's grasp. He immediately twisted, making a mad dash for the door, but then a hard yank on his sleeve jerked him backwards. With a snarl, Natsu pulled away, hearing a tearing sound.

There was a gasp, and he turned, meeting Sting's wide eyes. They were trained on Natsu's upper arm, and with a hiss, Natsu turned, spotting what Sting was fixated on.

There, on Natsu's bicep, which had been hidden by his sleeve but was now clearly exposed, was a tattoo of a fairy.

"You're.."

Natsu looked back as Sting heaved in a shocked breath. "You're with Fairy Tail."

_Fairy Tail _was Rogue's platoon name. They tattooed their emblem on parts of their body, a fairy shaped symbol with a tail. It was a play on names so to speak, since it was unclear if fairies had tails at all. A mystery.

Natsu turned back to Sting. "How do you know about that?" he asked, his muscles tense in case Sting suddenly launched himself forward.

Sting lowered his sword hand. "General Rogue," he said. "I've known about him for years now. He's quite a prodigy among your soldiers, Fiorian."

Natsu went still.

Sting laughed. "Don't worry," he chuckled, sheathing his sword. "I won't hurt you, or turn you in. I have too much respect for your commander's comrades."

"You've met others?" Natsu asked, clearly confused.

Sting went quiet. "Yes," he murmured. "I met him a few years ago, when my men took out his patrol. He was a good man, and I liked him a lot. I sent him here instead of killing him to spare him some mercy."

"Why would you do that?" Natsu asked, perplexed. His muscles loosened, and, although wary, he cautiously took a step towards the blonde general.

Sting shrugged. "Because I really don't see the point in mindless killing. He surrendered. There was no need for more bloodshed."

Sting leaned back, resting on the back of a chair. "I really don't see the point in this war either. I don't love this country. It's leaders have done some terrible things, so I could care less if it went up in flames."

Natsu opened his mouth, but Sting interrupted. "Why are you here, Fiorian?" he asked, his blue eyes blazing. "What do you want?"

Natsu frowned. "Why should I tell you?"

Sting gave another mirthless chuckle. "I haven't reported you yet, have I?" he asked. "I think that means I'm willing to help you."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't."

Natsu loathed that response. However, this man did seem to be somewhat trustworthy. If worst came to worst, he could always put a bullet through his head. Also, if this general was willing to help, then maybe he'd be willing to leak some information over...

"Fine then," Natsu hissed. "I'm looking for a friend who went missing a few years ago. Intel reported that he may have been seen here."

"Name?" Sting asked, suddenly interested.

"Jellal," Natsu said, watching as Sting's eyes suddenly widened to that of saucers. "Jellal-"

"-Fernandes," Sting finished. "Captain Jellal Fernandes."

Natsu narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that?"

"Because he is the man I sent here years ago," Sting said hoarsely. "I could never forget a man like that."

In two steps Natsu had Sting by the throat, pressing him against the chair. "Where is he?" Natsu snarled, his fingers twisting the fine material of Sting's shirt. "Where is Jellal?"

"I don't know," Sting whispered back. "But I overheard Minerva speaking of a blue haired prisoner she was keeping in one of the suites by her chambers..."

Natsu grabbed Sting's collar. "Where?" he hissed, pushing the blonde towards the door. "Take me there."

* * *

Erza ran furiously down the hallway, Gray tailing her closely. The corridor was empty, allowing the two of them to sprint full speed down the hall. Erza's red hair flew behind her, and her feet moved like lightning.

"Its just up ahead," she called over her shoulder. She didn't bother to see Gray nod his head in reply, but focused instead on getting to Jellal. She _had _to see him again, to make sure he was all right.

A part of her felt incredibly guilty for making Gray apologize. After all, she was going to use him to her advantage as well, as a tool to search the castle for Jellal. But at the same time, he knew about Jellal, knew she knew about him as well, and failed to tell her. So she had a right to be upset.

But none of that mattered now. Right now, all that mattered was finding Jellal and making sure he was safe and unharmed.

She hoped, prayed, begged that Minerva hadn't done anything to him. That woman was a cruel, sadistic voyeur, and it made Erza cringe at the thought of Jellal having to spend any time with that vicious beast.

He had to be okay. He had to.

They rounded a corner. Erza, not looking where she was going, ran smack into another person. She was so intent on looking for Jellal, that she all but tackled the person in her haste to get through.

Strong arms grabbed her biceps, holding her in place. She heard Gray curse behind her, and looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry, I know it was shit. Please forgive me. And please ignore the mistakes. I was so fed up with this chapter that I rushed the editing.**

**I'm going to try and get out of this depressing mood soon. Writing has been hard lately. I'll see if I can update my other stories, but I really need encouragement on them because it seems like no one really enjoys some of them. Maybe it's just me, idk.**

**Thanks for putting up with this. Again, I'm sorry.**


	11. Scars and Broken Pieces

**A/N: This has taken forever. And I know, I've already gone back on my word. I said this would be up by the weekend and it's already Wednesday. Sorry, I didn't plan on lying to you.**

**Thank you guys for sticking with me, despite the long wait. Things will be picking up and I suspect there's gonna be another 10ish chapters or so. I thought this was gonna be a short one, but again, I lied.**

**There were 86 reviews the last time I checked. Can we possibly make it to 100? *squeals***

**As always, thank you for following, favoriting, and reviews. You guys are amazing!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Scars and Broken Pieces**

Things were finally falling into place. Natsu had successfully (he hoped) infiltrated the War Council, Erza was on his side (he prayed), and they were going to find Jellal (honestly, how many other words could Gray use to describe "hope"?). If this was a success, then everything was in place, and they would be able to retrieve Jellal before the day's end. Again, Gray prayed.

He seemed to be doing that a lot these days.

He stared at the long mane of scarlet hair before him, billowing behind the woman it belonged to with a life of its own. He marveled once again at its magnificent color, so vibrant against the dark hues of the somber castle.

And the woman herself was like no other. She lit up the entire place like a candle in the darkness, paving the way through the night. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, her spirit the fire lighting the way. Gray couldn't help admiring her, and again wondered why such a vibrant soul was trapped in the underworld when it should be soaring through the heavens.

He was so lost in focus that he didn't realize the abrupt stop Erza made, nor the masculine arms that latched onto hers, until it was too late. If it was a guard, they were done for. He skidded to a stop and made to unsheathe his sword (in a matter of a few milliseconds- faster than he'd ever done before, but he'd save the self congratulations for another time), before he recognized a familiar shade of hair color before him.

"Uhh, Natsu?" Gray gasped, his sword falling slack in his grip. He frowned, deeply confused as to why Natsu was standing before him with an equally confused look on his face. Gray's eyes narrowed, sliding over to the man holding Erza in his grasp.

He looked formidable, which most likely meant he _was _formidable. His calculating blue eyes were narrowed with interest as he looked Erza up and down (for once, not sexually; he was actually looking her over as if he considered her a threat- which, in Gray's opinion, she was). Dressed in a fine-looking suit, Gray had to guess this man was an officer of some high status.

Erza was shaking. Any other person would have guessed she was shaking with fear, because the blonde with the fierce blue eyes certainly was one to shiver in fear of, unless, of course, you were someone like Gray, who was rarely scared, but Gray knew differently. Even though he'd only known this fiery redhead for a short amount of time, Gray could tell that she was anything but scared.

Angry, was an undervalued way to put it. She was furious.

She was still angry that Gray lied to her (and still ignoring the fact that she didn't tell him the whole truth either), angry at Minerva for stealing Jellal away, and now _furious_ at yet another person holding her back from the one person she needed to see.

She didn't know what to make of these feelings for this man. Even though she knew him for, what, a few weeks? Not even? Even though she'd only known him for a short amount of time, she felt as if she'd known him all her life. She felt a sense of ease when she was able to spend a few blissfully short moments with him, despite the tensions running amuck in the castle.

Maybe it was because of the bond they shared, of the chains binding them to this dreadful place. They were both prisoners of this insidious war, caged and trapped. In a way, this confinement was probably the reason why Erza felt so close to Jellal, because she knew the pain he must be going through, not only being imprisoned by Minerva but also held prisoner by the very country he'd been fighting against. No doubt he'd lost comrades, family, and friends, and here he was, locked away, unable to help anyone.

She glared furiously up at the man holding, seeing nothing but pure curiosity in his bright blue eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?" she heard the other one say, but she didn't tear her eyes off the man holding her. He had spiky blonde hair and a scar running through his right eyebrow. Dressed in a regal looking suit with medals decorating the right shoulder, Erza had to guess he was some high general or something in the army.

"Are these two with you, Dragneel?" the man said to his pink haired companion, not taking his eyes off of Erza.

"What the hell, you idiot?" Gray snarled, storming up to the pink haired man and grabbing him by the lapels of his coat. "You _told_ him about us? What part of incognito didn't go through that thick skull of yours?"

"_I'm _the idiot?" the one called Dragneel snarled back, likewise grabbing Gray by the collar. "Maybe you should rethink that statement, moron!"

"You're fraternizing with the goddamn enemy!"

"If you only listen-"

"What possible excuse could you-"

"Ahem," Erza said, clearing her throat loudly. "Bickering aside, can we please focus on the matter at hand?"

The blonde snickered. "I agree with the young lady here," he said, letting go of Erza while the two others dropped their arms.

"Do you want to explain what you're doing here with _him_?" Gray muttered, pointing an accusing finger at the blonde man standing next to Erza. She raised her eyebrow at his condescending tone, but luckily Dragneel didn't bother to argue.

"That would be Sting Eucliffe," Dragneel said, jerking his head at Sting, who smiled at Gray and Erza and waved.

"Sting Eucliffe?" Gray gasped, his hand going for his sword. "Natsu, you do realize who that is, right? Not only is he one of the best generals Pergrande has to offer, he's also the damned king's nephew!"

"Thank you for pointing that out," Sting said dryly, winking at Erza in amusement, who couldn't help but smile back. "I'm quite sure he didn't know that for himself."

"Watch it, Pergrande," Gray snarled. "I've got half a mind to not slit your throat right now."

"Okay, that's it," Erza said, stepping in between the testosterone war brewing before her. "Can we please not turn this into a war of who's-dick-is-bigger thank you very much?" She sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. "What happens when you get three obvious males together in a confined area..."

"If you gave your friend the chance to explain, he'd probably be able to tell you that I was trying to get him to your confined friend, which, from the looks of it, you're looking for him too."

"Jellal?" Erza gasped, turning to Sting and grabbing his sleeve. "You know where he is?"

"Where's Jellal?" Gray asked warily, one hand still firmly gripping his sword. "How do we not know you're lying?"

"Because I believe him," Natsu declared. He nodded in Sting's general direction. "You don't understand, Gray. He saved me. He knew who I was at the council and he still didn't give me away. Even after the council, when he confronted me, instead of arresting me, he heard me out and was willing to find Jellal for me."

Gray's eyes narrowed. "How did he know about Jellal?" he asked suspiciously.

Sting sighed. "I met Jellal a few years ago," he confessed, looking around to make sure the corridor was empty before continuing. "We were engaged in a battle deep in the heart of Iceberg. My men managed-"

"-to annihilate his platoon," Gray interrupted. "I know. We saw the aftermath."

Erza's hand dropped from Sting's sleeve. Her mouth dropped, and she felt a sudden coldness rush through her body. She'd known about Jellal's capture and imprisonment, but she'd never known how he'd come here. How scarred he must've been, watching his comrades shot down before him before he was taken away.

Sting looked at her. "Are you one of his friends too?" he asked curiously. His eyes looked her up and down, calculating and intense. "You certainly don't look like a soldier. Or are you in disguise as well?"

She shook her head. "I met Jellal here," she whispered. "We're both prisoners trapped in this vile place."

Gray frowned, turning to her. "I thought you were-"

"A serving girl?" Erza snapped bitterly. She glared at Gray forcing him to take a step back. "Well, you thought wrong? Do you think any of us want to be here? Think again! Half of us are innocent people stolen from our towns and villages. I watched as the Peregrande soldiers murdered my mother and father and burned my village to the ground. We're not servants," she spat angrily. "We're _slaves."_

The others went quiet, staring at her in awe. Her chest heaved, and Erza realized that she hadn't ever released her bitterness for what Peregrande had done to her. She kept the anger burning inside her this entire time, and now it had finally burst out of her in one fell swoop.

Gray was quiet. He'd always known that Peregrande had raided many villages in the countries they had invaded, however, the idea that they murdered people and kidnapped others was positively vile. That just proved the depths of Peregrande's depravity; they were rotten to the core.

Sting hesitantly reached out and touched her arm, aware of Gray's grip tightening on his sword. "I'm sorry for what my country has done to you, Ms. Scarlet," he murmured. Erza tensed, pulling her arm away from Sting's touch.

"I'm not the one you have to apologize for. In fact you're not the one who needs to apologize," she hissed, looking away. "It is your uncle who needs to atone for his sins, and apologize to all the people he's hurt."

"Can I at least do something to alleviate your pain somewhat?" Sting asked hesitantly.

Erza turned her dark eyes to him. He stared into those fathomless brown depths, detecting anger and sorrow, but underneath that, something else. Something harder, something he least expected to see in the eyes of a person who seemed to have lost all hope.

Determination.

"Yes," She whispered, jerking her head towards the end of the hall, where, behind one of those doors, was a man who was her present, and now possibly, her future. "You can get me into his room and let me talk with him."

"Whoa, whoa," the pink haired man said, stepping forward. "Is that wise?"

Erza turned her furious glare on him. "Listen to me," she snarled. "I've spent a few months here, suffering under Minerva's wrath. He's been here for years. Granted, my pain is nothing compared to what he's gone through, but at least I know what he's going through. You," she turns her gaze to the other two men standing in her way. "You know nothing of what we've gone through."

The other men looked away from her. Sting frowned, biting his lip. Erza stayed put- she had to see Jellal, before the others did. They didn't understand this need to see him. To tell him everything was going to be okay. To be there for him.

"She's right," Gray spoke up, making Erza turn. "She should see him first."

Sting frowned, but Natsu, the pink haired one, stepped forward. "I trust Gray's judgement," he said, reaching a hand towards Erza. "You're right," he continued. "We don't know what he's gone through for these past few years. You do, which is why I think it's best if you talk with him. You understand him better than us right now."

She smiled hesitantly at Natsu, placing her hand in his. His grip was strong and firm, and Erza felt the beginning of a friends blossom between their entwined fingers. He grinned, a wide toothy grin, full of life and vigor. "Hi," he murmured. "I'm Natsu. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Scarlet."

"Okay," Sting said. He gestured towards the end of the hall. Three doors stood between her and Jellal, and Erza narrowed her eyes. "We're trying to figure out which room Jellal's in. From what-"

"You know," a slow voice spoke up behind them, making all three of them jump. "If you're so desperate to know which room he's in, why don't you just ask?"

Erza whirled around, but even her fast reflexes couldn't follow Sting's movements. He was on the stranger in a heartbeat, his sword drawn and pressed against the man's throat. It all happened in a matter of heartbeats, and Erza's eyes widened. Here she was, standing before the real thing. Sting, he was exactly what she'd always dreamed of being. A soldier, a warrior.

"Who are you?" Sting snarled, and Natsu stepped up beside him, one hand reaching inside his jacket. Gray placed a warning hand in front of Erza, his other reaching for the sword hanging at his side.

The man was of slight build, with a tapered waist, dark hair, and a three scars marring the left side of his face. Erza once would've considered him handsome, but unfortunately for him, now that she'd seen Jellal, nothing could compare. There was just something about Jellal that drew her to him, like nothing she'd ever felt before. Once, she almost felt it towards Gray, but he never occupied the majority of Erza's thoughts like Jellal did.

_Wait a second, _Erza realized, narrowing her eyes. _I know you. _She recognized his face, and the familiar dark hair, similar to Gray.

"Stand down," Gray said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Natsu's shoulder. "I know him. We can trust him."

"How do you know that?" Sting hissed, keeping his narrowed blue eyes locked on the other man's turquoise gaze.

"Because," Gray said, nodding at the other man. "His name is Doranbolt. He's Jellal's guard, and my contact with him. He can help us. He knows where Jellal is being held."

Doranbolt smiled, then turned his gaze back down to Sting. "Forgive me, sir," he murmured quietly. "But can you please take your blade away from my throat so that I may explain? I'd prefer to not have my throat slashed while I speak."

Sting smirked. "Well, well," he chuckled, taking his sword away from Doranbolt's neck and sheathing it. "You've got quite the mouth on ya, for a guard, don't you? I like that."

Erza didn't have time for pleasantries. "Doranbolt," she said abruptly. "I'm really sorry, but you need to tell us where Jellal is, before anyone comes."

The dark haired man looked at her, his eyes dark. _Hmmm, _he thought, taking in her scarlet tresses and those brilliant dark eyes. _So this is the woman Jellal can not stop thinking of._

Granted, Jellal never told Doranbolt of Erza, but Doranbolt could tell. There were only a few things that drove a man to such lengths of determination, and one of those was a woman. Considering obvious intense feelings this woman, Erza, had for Jellal, and how Jellal's mind always seemed to be occupied with something, now _someone,_ it was clear to Doranbolt that this indeed, was the woman who stole Jellal.

Keeping a careful eye on Sting (despite the fact that the man was indeed a general and the King's nephew) in case he did decided that Doranbolt's head looked better detached from his body, Doranbolt nodded his head to the last door on the left. "He's in there," he said. "You may want to see him, I don't think he's doing too well right now."

"What do you mean by that?" Gray said, in a dark voice. Natsu narrowed his eyes, one hand gripping whatever he had concealed inside his coat. Erza simply held her breath and stared.

"I think you should probably hear it for yourself," Doranbolt whispered. Something about his quiet tone clicked within Erza, and before she knew it her feet were flying towards the door Doranbolt had pointed out, hands reaching for the handle. She heard someone call out for her, but she ignored them; grabbing for the door handle and yanking hard. Upon realizing it was locked, she snarled in frustration, until a heavy hand landed on her shoulder.

She turned to meet the dark gaze of Doranbolt, a still suspicious Sting standing behind him. Doranbolt took her hand and placed a slim key in her palm, curling her fingers around the silver tool. "Go," he whispered quietly. "You should see him."

Gray stepped up behind Sting, giving Erza a comforting smile. "Take your time."

She nodded gratefully at the men who, despite being a part of her life for mere moments, have already shaped much of her future. Then she turned, sticking the key into the lock and turning. She heard the faint click of the door unlocking, and took a deep breath. _This is it, _she thought. _He's waiting._

* * *

He heard the door unlock, and immediately took up a defensive position, fists raised and held in front of his face, knees slightly bent, all his weight resting on the balls of his feet. He was determined to fight. If it meant raising a hand against a woman and no doubt being killed for injuring her, then so be it. He would not let her take advantage of him again.

He wasn't a doll to be manipulated and toyed with for one's own amusement.

But when the door opened, instead of revealing a sinister succubus, he met the concerned gaze of Erza Scarlet, a woman he couldn't seem to forget.

Her eyes widened upon seeing him, no doubt surprised at his frazzled state. He dropped his hands quickly as she stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her. She stared at him, her hands behind her back as she leaned against the door.

"Hi," she whispered, staring at him with a mixture of awe and concern pooling in her dark eyes. She made no move towards him, but stayed hesitantly by the door, watching him carefully. "Remember me?"

"Of course," Jellal whispered, his voice coming out raspy. "It's hard to forget hair like yours."

She smiled, running a hand through her hair. "Right," she said. "It is a pretty noticeable color, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," Jellal blurted out, then quickly looked away in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be," Erza said, smiling softly. She pushed off the door and took a step towards Jellal, freezing only when he jerked away from her, his eyes widening and filling with distrust. He put out a warning hand, and Erza raised hers in a non threatening gesture.

"Jellal," she whispered slowly, taking another slow step forward, reaching out a comforting hand. "It's me, Erza Scarlet. I didn't come here to hurt you."

He slumped against the wall, and Erza rushed forward, catching him quickly, before he hit the ground. He made no move to push her away, and Erza slid to the ground, holding him to her chest. Her eyes widened as he clutched her clothes, burying his face in her neck, shaking softly.

"Oh, Jellal," Erza whispers, gently running her fingers down his spine and through his hair. "What did she do to you?"

His shoulders shake uncontrollably, and Erza feels her heart clench in pain. To see such a strong man brought down so much, especially a man like him, was heartbreaking to watch. And yet, what did Minerva do to him that would render him to this state? Erza bent over, whispering soothing words in Jellal's ear, and rubbed his back in comforting circles. "Hey," she whispered, running her hands through his hair. "Can you look at me?"

There was a moment of silence, where Jellal's shoulders stopped shaking and Erza's breath stopped. Then, after the moment passed, she heard Jellal heave a slow, shaky breath, before raising his head.

"Hi," Erza whispered, staring into his unfocused forest eyes. They were swimming with pain and fury, and behind that, gratitude. "Do you want to talk?"

He pulled away from her, leaving her feeling cold from lack of warmth, but then he leaned against the wall next to her, his shoulder pressed against hers, hands slightly touching, legs brushing. "I don't think I can," he replied, his eyes downcast. "Just... not now. Please."

Erza nodded. "Alright," She said softly, placing her hand over his. "I understand."

He looked down at her hand, then back up at her. "What-" he began, before coughing sharply. Erza frowned, sitting upright, but his coughs subsided almost immediately. "What," he continues, suddenly squeezing her hand. "What are you doing here?"

Erza looked away so he didn't catch the flush on her cheeks. "I came here because I'm worried about you," she said softly. "And because I want to tell you a few things, while things are somewhat calm."

He gave her a look of suspicion and alarm. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked in a raspy voice, his voice somewhat shaky.

She carefully eyed the door before returning her gaze to his face. "Jellal," she whispered. "I met Gray Fullbuster."

Immediately, he sat up, all signs of his previous terror gone. "What?" he nearly snarled. "What did he tell you. What's go-"

"He's told me everything, Jellal," she whispered, letting go of his hand and folding it neatly in her lap. "I may have caught him in the act, conversing with Doranbolt, and confronted-"

"You what?"

"I know everything is confusing right now and you're stressed out, but please listen to me, Jellal?" Erza begged. She gestured towards the door. "Gray, Doranbolt, and two others, Natsu Dragneel and Sting Eucliffe, are standing outside the door right now, guarding us. But we don't have much time. Minerva may be back at any moment."

"Sting? Natsu?" Jellal whispered in shock. "What are they doing here?"

"Natsu and Gray came to find you," Erza explained, reciting in her mind exactly what Gray had told her earlier. "Something about a General Rogue looking for you. Sting found out about it, and supposedly he's the one who turned you in, like that matters now, but he's helping, and Doranbolt found Gray after being sent by you to-"

"Sting's here?" Jellal whispered.

Erza impulsively reached out to cup his cheeks, however, she forgot how on edge he was. Before she could recognize what was happening, she was lying on her back with his arm pressed to her throat, his other hand clenching onto both wrists, held high above her head.

"J-Jellal," she croaked, gasping for breath. Her wide eyes stared up into his narrowed green ones, burning with anger. "Jella-"

His eyes widened, lucidity clearing away the anger. His mouth formed an 'oh' and he quickly scrambled off her, nearly pushing her away.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, clutching his face. "Erza- God, I'm so sorry-"

"Jellal," she murmured hesitantly, sitting upright cautiously. "It's me who should apologize-"

"For what?" he whispered, dropping his hands to watch her mournfully. "I should not have lashed out."

She shook her head, crawling over to hesitantly touch of of his hands. "Whatever she did to you," she said carefully, giving his fingers a light squeeze. "It was painful and scarring. I shouldn't have been so careless."

He looked at her, carefully, distrust lingering in his gaze, but doesn't push her away as she leans in closer, gently laying a hand on his cheek. He flinched at the initial contact, but almost immediately his body loosened up and his eyes softened. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as she gently caressed his skins, finger brushing over his tattoo.

"You don't deserve this," she murmured.

His eyes opened, and his hand shot up, cupping the hand cupping his cheek. "Neither do you, Erza," he whispered. "You, at least, are not tainted with the blood of a hundred men on your hands. You have a home to get back to. I do not."

She glared up at him. "I do not," she hissed. "My family was murdered before my eyes, my town was burned to the ground. I have nothing left."

She sighed, lowering her head. She dropped her hand from his cheek. "I guess you and I are not so much different, huh?" she whispered. "Equally distraught, equally messed up."

"Erza," he mumbled. She felt his fingers brush her chin before putting pressure on lightly, forcing her to meet his burning forest gaze. "Don't say that."

She closed her eyes. "But I am, Jellal," she said. "Being here has left me scarred, maybe in different ways than you have been, but scarred nonetheless. You and I are both prisoners of war, different contexts of course, and thus, we're not whole anymore."

"You don't show it," he whispered.

She shook her head. "I'm not at the liberty to show it," she whispered. "There's other people here, others that need me to be strong for them. So they can still have hope. You need to have hope too."

He looked at her almost in wonder. "I think," he began slowly. "You are my hope."

She froze, her heart pounding. Her mouth dropped open as he looked at her, moving his hand from her chin to cup her cheek. Yet, she made no move as he leaned in, her gaze drowning in the intensity of his eyes.

He leaned in closer, until their breaths mingled and Erza could no longer focus on his eyes properly. She closed her eyes, sensed his slight hesitation before his lips barely touched hers-

A pounding on the door jolted Erza out of her reveries, and she jumped back from Jellal as if she'd been electrocuted. He blushed and looked away, his hand dropping from her cheek, which chilled at the loss of his touch.

"Forgive me," Jellal whispered, getting to his feet, swaying for a second. Erza flushed, especially when he reached down and took her hand, hoisting her up. Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled her flush to him, one arm curling protectively around her. They locked eyes for a brief moment before pulling apart, just as the door opened and Gray slid inside, followed by Sting.

"Jellal!" Sting exclaimed, smiling. "It's good to see you!"

Jellal's eyes narrowed. "I'm not so sure I can say the same," he said gruffly. "After all, you are the one who threw me in this hellhole to begin with, am I right?"

Sting smiled sheepishly. "I know," he said. "But I didn't want to kill you. I agree it wasn't-"

"No offense," Gray began, cutting Sting off. "But Doranbolt just came back from looking for Minerva. She was in her chambers a while ago, but he says she left. We don't have much time, especially if she comes here."

Erza saw Jellal's body tense upon hearing Minerva's name, and saw the glimmer of unease pool into his eyes. She laid a comforting hand on his wrist, trying to calm him. The effect was instantaneous, and she saw his shoulders sink with relief. However, she missed Gray's keen eyes catching the moment, and narrowing at the sight.

"We've come up with a plan," Gray continued. "Jellal, we need to get out of here before it's too late. The others will be meeting for the next few days to come up with a game plan. We'll have Erza deliver the information to you with the help of Doranbolt."

"Do me a favor," Jellal asked, his voice remarkably steady. _How is he so composed,_ Erza though, her eyes wandering over his fatigued frame.

"What?" Sting said.

"I met Laxus Dreyar," Jellal whispered, not missing Sting's sharp intake of breath. "I need you to find him, and try and get him out of here as well. We need him. We don't have time to explain but he will be useful to us."

"Anything else?" Gray asked, his eyes flitting from the door to Jellal.

"Yes," Jellal continued. "There's another man, maroon hair, with a scar on his face. Find him as well. We need them both."

Gray nodded. "Fine," he whispered. His eyes softened. "Jellal," he continued. "Hang in there. Not too much longer now, okay?"

Jellal nodded. "Just hurry," came his tired response.

Sting gestured at Erza. "Come on, Scarlet," he said, turning to the door. "We need to go now."

Erza froze, turning to face Jellal. He nodded encouragingly at her. "Go," he whispered. "Be safe." But the look in his eyes, those green depths pooling with fear and anxiety. Her heart went out to him, and before she knew it, she was turning back to him, pressing her lips against his ear and whispering, "I'll come back for you," before joining Gray and the others, leaving Jellal in the dark once again.

He touched his lips and forever engraved the memory of her in his mind, to cherish for the rest of his life, because he just realized he'd given his heart away, and that he didn't want it back.

* * *

Minerva knocked on the door, and waited a moment before the door opened, revealing Rufus standing behind. He smiled when he saw his sister, reaching out to kiss her cheek gently.

"Hello, sister," he greeted warmly. "What can I help you with?"

"A servant told me you had a run in with my gift to you," she said, leaning against the wall. "What do you think of her?"

His eyes burned with wanton lust. "She's magnificent," he breathed. "A fine specimen. Minerva, you did a wonderful job picking her. I am not displeased."

"Well of course," she purred. "I am your sister, I know what you like best. Think of her as a thank you present for that man you gave to me."

"Ah, yes," Rufus said, picking at his nails. "What was his name again?"

"Jellal."

"Right," Rufus said. "Jellal. And how is he?"

"Spirited," Minerva mushed. "But definitely worth the time. I will enjoy breaking him."

She leaned forward. "Just another few says, brother. Then we'll both have what we desire."

* * *

**A/N: There hasn't been enough jerza lately, so here's plenty of Jerza to make up for the lack of it canonwise.**

**special thanks to AmnaK96 for being the bestest bae I could ask for.**

**there's obviously typos, but its 3 am and i'll edit later. There's probs more I wanted to say but i'm too tired rn to think of them. So good night, and see ya soon!**

**-Wolf**


	12. Promise Me

**A/N: Let me tell you a story:**

**So you know how in my last A/N I told you guys my computer was a bitch and deleted my files. Yeah, that was only the beginning. My computer broke halfway through July, then took forever to get fixed because the computer guys was mean and weird and ugh. Then, to make matters worse, there was a shit ton of drama at work that almost ended up with me losing my job because of an asshole co-worker. Luckily, since I've worked there for forever and my coworkers are angels, he (the asshole) got fired instead. **

**To sum it up, July was a bitch.**

**The only good thing that happened was Exo's comeback and the Exo'rdium. It kept me sane. Enough said.**

**I will do my best to update more frequently. Thanks for being with me through thick and thin. Love you guys.**

**Dedicated to **TheBeatOfWar** and **AmnaK96** for being super amazing and so supportive and just being awesome. Thanks guys.**

**There's probs typos. Sorry.**

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**UPDATE (8/19/16): WEIRD COMPUTER GLITCH. IDK MAN, TECHNOLOGY HATES ME. HAD TO REUPLOAD THE CHAPTER. **

**REVIEWS=LOVE**

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**WARNING: OVERUSE AND ABUSE OF THE WORD "PROMISE"**

**Chapter 12: Promise Me**

Doranbolt noded at Gray as the latter made his way down the hall towards him. "Gray," he said as the dark haired man stopped before him.

Gray nodded. "How in the world were you able to get guard duty again?" he asked curiously. It's been two days since Erza was reunited with Jellal, and somehow, Doranbolt has been able to stay on guard outside Jellal's prison the entire time. Not that Gray minded, he's delighted actually, but if Doranbolt starts acting suspicious, their entire plan could go up in flames.

Doranbolt grinned. "The perks of being here for a while," he said, patting the pommel of his sword. "It seems the lady Minerva trusts me the most with her...things. Little does she know." he finished with a chuckle, which Gray reciprocated.

"Good job Doranbolt," Gray said, patting him on the back. "Keep this up, and I'll make sure you have a secure position with my platoon as soon as we get back."

Doranbolt stilled, looking at Gray with hopeful eyes. "You mean it?" he asked.

Gray nodded, smiling. "Of course. You've been extremely helpful these past few days, Doranbolt. It's the least I can do."

"Speaking of which," Doranbolt suddenly remembered. "I bribed one of the guards down in the prisons earlier, and managed to get a message to Laxus and the other man. His name is Erik, but that's besides the point. They're in."

Gray tensed. "Really?" he asked, his body filling with excitement, further spurred on as Doranbolt nodded.

"Yes, they're in. It took Erik a bit more convincing, and in the end I had to bribe him with the promise of money once this is over with, but other than that, they're in. I slipped Laxus a dagger when the guard wasn't looking, plus a time and place. I'd have given him a gun, but the sound would have triggered-"

"That's fine Doranbolt," Gray cut in, relieving the other man of his explanation. "You did the right thing. Now all we need is horses-"

"Already covered," Doranbolt said, looking extremely pleased with himself. "I bribed the stable boy to leave seven horses tacked and ready to go in the stables at six."

Gray chucked. "You sly fox," he replied. "Next time we go to war, I'll leave all the organizing to you."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, Gray."

Gray nodded. "Of course."

Doranbolt jerked his head to the closed door behind him. "You should probably tell him so he's ready. He could also do with a friend right now. Minerva came by earlier, and judging from all the yelling I heard, he's still pretty beat."

Gray frowned. "Minerva was here?"

Doranbolt nodded, downcast. "Yes," he murmured. "Couldn't stop her. When she came out, I went in to check on him. It didn't seem like she did much, but then again, I could only check his physical self. I have no idea how his mental psyche is holding up."

Gray sighed. "I should go in there," he mumbled. "But do me a favor, will you?" Doranbolt cocked his head, and Gray continued. "Give this letter to Erza the next time you see her, alright? So she knows when and where she needs to be." He passed a slip of paper into Doranbolt's jacket and without another word, slipped inside Jellal's room.

Jellal didn't even bother to look up when Gray entered. He was sitting, shirtless, on the bed, the sheets balled up at his feet. There were four parallel scratches running diagonally down his cheek, and as Gray neared, he made out what could only be hickies dotting Jellal's throat and chest.

"Jellal," Gray whispered cautiously, sitting down at the edge of the bed, wincing when Jellal flinched at the sound of his voice. "Jellal, it's me, Gray."

The man relaxed once Gray said his name, and wordlessly raised his lifeless eyes until the latched onto Gray's face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it just as quickly and bowed his head.

"Jellal, I'm getting you out of here," Gray said firmly, reaching out slowly. Jellal eyed his hand warily, but allowed Gray to rest his hand on his bare shoulder, shivering when their skin touched. "Today's the day. You won't have to deal with this any longer."

"...When?" Jellal rasped, his voice scratchy and rough, as if he'd been yelling for a long period of time.

Gray smiled grimly. "Tonight," he confirmed. "Tonight at six."

"How?"

"Doranbolt acquired horses for us," Gray murmured. "I've already sent a message to Erza to meet us at the stables then. I also did what you asked, and got to Laxus and the other man. They're in as well. They'll meet us, and we can get out of here. Natsu heard from Rogue yesterday. He's got most of his troops stationed in Sin right now, acting like Sin citizens."

"_I received a transcript from Rogue, Gray," Natsu said, entering Gray's room. Gray jerked, now alert, when moments ago, he'd been lounging on his bed, fingering Erza's necklace in his hand. Gray immediately jumped up, making his way over to Natsu's side while the pink haired man read the note aloud._

"'_Boys,'," Natsu read, holding the paper out so Gray could see as well. "'Hope all is doing well. Vacation is doing well, and most of the family is here already. We are preparing for a good time here. All of the people that were here before us have said great things about this place before leaving. They told us to take care of this place so that when they come back, it'll still be nice. I'm sure we will._

'_There are plenty of horses here to ride, plus restaurants. The people who are still here are very nice and feed us good food. There's also plenty of cool tools we can play with, so we won't run out of things to do. I'm almost done organizing a plan for our activities. _

'_When you do come, you should meet us at the Bar Sun. You know where that is, right? I'll have Lover Boy meet you at the entrance. I'll see you soon. _

_Love,_

_Dad.'_

_Gray chuckled. "Smart of him to write in code," he said, taking a closer look at the paper. "Wouldn't want and Pergrande scum catching wind of what we're planning. Rogue would not be happy if we were found out."_

"_Yeah," Natsu agreed. "So it looks like he's got most of Fairy Tail stationed in Sin already, and if "family" means anything, it's possible more of Fiore's troops survived and managed to find their way to Sin as well, don't you think?"_

_Gray nodded. "I'm guessing that they're all posing as Sin citizens to hide from any Pergrande spies. It seems like they've got plenty of supplies and weapons, so that's a plus."_

"_Who do you think Lover Boy is?" Natsu asked, and Gray took one look at him, lifting his eyebrow. Natsu held eye contact with him for another second before the two of them broke out in laughter._

"_Romeo."_

Gray smiled. "It's almost over, Jellal."

Jellal leaned forward, and Gray jumped as the blue haired man slumped onto his shoulder. He frowned, raising his arms to support Jellal, whose shoulders were beginning to shake. "Jellal?"

Jellal raised his head, and and faced Gray with red eyes, full of unshed tears. "I can't do this Gray," he whispered. "I... I can't-" He broke off with an ugly sob and dropped his head, shoulders shaking as he cried quietly.

Gray felt a burning rage rush through him. How dare Minerva hurt him. How dare she lay her fingers on Jellal. She was sick, and he was going to kill her for it. He was going to-

"Jellal," Gray hissed firmly, gripping his shoulder, wincing at the ugly bruises dotting his skin. Jellal raised his head, wiping his face.

"Jellal, remember that promise you and I made back in the barracks?"

Jellal frowned.

Gray leaned in, pressing his forehead against Jellal's. "You promised me that you'd come back safely. Don't make me believe you can't keep that promise. _Don't break your promise to me."_

He pulled away, reaching into his shirt to pull out Erza's necklace she'd given him. "I made a promise to someone, promising to protect her. She gave me this as a token of our promise. If I can't protect and save you, then I've also failed her. Don't make me break that promise."

Jellal's eyes widened. Gray pulled the necklace over his head and took Jellal's hand. "This is my promise that we will make it out of here safely. Guard this for me," he said, echoing Jellal's words from so long ago. You need it more than I do."

Jellal looked at the necklace, memories flooding back to him as Gray held his hand out.

_Jellal sighed, then reached under his shirt and pulled out a necklace, pulling the chain over his head. He reached forward and took Gray's hand, placing the chain in his friend's hand. "There," Jellal said, closing Gray's fingers around the token. "This is my promise that we will come back safely. Guard this for me. It was Wendy's, but she gave it to me for safekeeping. You need it more than I do."_

For the first time in two days, Jellal felt a shadow of a smile grace his lips, and he reached out and gently tipped the necklace into his hands, his fingers sliding over the smooth edge of the sword charm. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully. Gray smiled.

"I'm sorry I don't have the one you gave me. I got into a little accident and broke it. I promise I'll get you a new one."

Jellal shook his head. "It's alright," he whispered. "I'm surprised that it lasted as long as it did with you."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jellal shook his head, the faintest trace of a smile gracing his lips. "Nevermind."

"Yah, Jellal-"

A sharp rapping against the door had both men freezing, eyes shooting towards the door in a panic. Moments later, the door opened, making Gray dive over the side of the bed, hiding out of sight of the door.

"Gray?" Doranbolt's voice echoed, making both men relax. Gray poked his head over the side of Jellal's bed and sent an annoyed glare towards the man in question.

"A little warning next time, Doranbolt?" he grumbled, getting to his feet.

Doranbolt shrugged. "Here is my warning. Minerva left her room a few minutes ago. I think it's wise if you get out of here sooner or later."

Jellal's eyes widened. "Gray..." he began, his shoulders beginning to shake. "No... you can't-"

Gray grabbed Jellal's arm and stared fiercely into his eyes. "Listen to me, Jellal," he hissed, reaching out and grabbing onto the necklace that hung around his friend's throat, holding it up for him to see. "You made me this promise, and I intend for you to keep it. I _will _come for you. All you need to do is hang in there for a few hours. Please, Jellal. _Please."_

Jellal's eyes closed, and his chest continued to heave for a few more moments before slowing down, gradually coming back to normal. Finally, his eyes opened, and he gently clasped his hand around Gray's. "Okay," he whispered firmly. "I will. I'll always keep my promise."

Gray nodded, letting go of Jellal's hand. "I'll be back for you," he said, retreating towards Doranbolt, never taking his eyes off of Jellal. "That's a promise."

* * *

Jellal sighed, flopping back onto the pillows. He closed his eyes, immediately assaulted by images of what happened moments before Gray came to the rescue. He flinched, opening his eyes, but the image of Minerva on him, above him, _touching him, kissing him_, still haunted his thoughts. He gasped, tears coming to his eyes, and he clawed at his clothes, trying to rid himself of the feel of her imaginary hands still clinging to him.

_Jellal_, a voice whispered, and he closed his eyes. A woman stood before him, gaze stern, while her black locks whipped around her face.

_Jellal, _she whispered again, reaching forward to caress his cheek. He felt her ghostly fingers brush his cheeks, and felt the tears form.

"Ul," he whispered. "I miss you."

_I know, _she said, smiling sadly at him. _I miss you too. You've been so brave._

He shook his head. "I'm not brave, Ul. Not like you. I don't know how to be."

She frowns. _Jellal, there are many different ways to be brave. It doesn't just mean sacrificing one's one life to stay with their comrades. It means standing up to adversity. It means not bowing down no matter what. It means to not give up._

_And that is why you are brave, Jellal Fernandes,_ Ultear whispered, cupping his chin and staring into his watery eyes. _Because you are standing when others have knelt. You are pushing forward where others have failed. You are surviving while others have perished. You are fighting. And you will win._

"How can you say that, Ul?" Jellal said, leaning forward to rest his head on her shoulder.

_Because I know you, _Ultear replied, kissing his hair. _The man standing before me is not one to give up without a fight. And I remember recalling a promise you and I used to make so long ago._

"Here's hope to a better future." Jellal said.

Ultear nodded. _You need to keep that promise, Jellal. For me, and for my daughter. For I live on in Meredy, so you need to make sure her future remains bright. But that means you need to stay strong and persevere through this, so you can return to her._

Jellal pulled away from his long lost friend, staring at her. She had a sad, but warm smile on her face, and she reached out one more time to cup his cheek affectionately. _I love you, Jellal, _she whispered, her image fading. _And I know that no matter what life throws your way, you will make it. Now push onwards, towards that better future._

Jellal's eyes opened, and he sat up, eyes locked on the door. He could still feel the burn of Minerva's hands all over his body, the sinful feel of her lips on places they should've never been, but he shrugged off the feelings of suffering and pain that came along. _No,_ he thought, shaking his head angrily. _I will not feel this way. I have to be strong. There's a lot of people depending on me to get out. _An image of the small, pink haired daughter of his late friend entered his mind, followed by Gray, Rogue, Doranbolt, and finally Erza.

A warm feeling rose in his chest upon the thought of Scarlet finally being freed from this wretched kingdom. A determined smile touched his lips. He _will_ be the one to free her from her bonds. Nothing would stop him. Even if it meant tearing the treacherous king and his children from the throne.

* * *

Two days after seeing Jellal, Erza received a slip of paper under the door she and Lucy shared. After spending these two days sneaking furtive glances at Gray from passing in the hallways, to cautiously entering Sting's chambers to "clean", aka, find news on Jellal, Erza knew that today was the day.

Today was the day to break Jellal free. It all came down to this.

She looked down at the simple piece of paper in her hands and read the words.

_6pm. Stables. Horses will be ready._

_\- G_

Erza checked the time. It was nearing three in the afternoon, and she was due to clean Minerva's chambers in a few minutes. She looked around her room before racing over to the dresser she shared with Lucy, shoving a few clothes into a day pack. Dropping it near the door, she grabbed her cloak and proceeded to put it on, tying it on tight. Bending down, she reached to pick up her bag when suddenly-

The door opened, revealing Lucy standing beyond. Erza yelped, startled by Lucy's sudden entrance, and back up a few inches.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked, eyes narrowed.

"Nothing!" Erza exclaimed. "I have to go tend to Minerva's roses and I grabbed some extra clothes in case it's too cold."

"Oh," Lucy replied. Then she looked behind her, checking the hallways before suddenly pushing Erza back in, slamming the door behind her and locking it. Startled, Erza fell backwards, a curse pushing its way out of her mouth as she glared up at Lucy.

"What the f-"

"Shhh!" Lucy whispered, flying forward and covering Erza's mouth with her hand. Her eyes burned desperately into Erza's own, and Erza quieted, sensing Lucy's anxiety. "Erza, listen to me."

Erza shook Lucy's hand off her. "What?" she gasped.

Lucy sagged. "I just ran into a few guards. They were discussing you. Supposedly you're wanted in either Lady Minerva's or Lord Rufus's chambers, and you're wanted now. They're coming for you, Erza."

Erza frowned, and Lucy took this opportunity to truck on. "What's going on, Erza?" she whispered, grabbing Erza's clammy hands. "What did you _do?"_

Erza shot to her feet, ignoring Lucy's question. She raced over to the dresser, snatching a piece of paper and a quill, dipping it into the inkwell and writing furiously. Once finished, she rushed back over to Lucy and shoved the paper in her hands.

"Lucy, I promise I will answer your questions. But right now, I need you to get this to Gray Fullbuster. He has his rooms next to Ambassador Zankrow-" who was in fact, Natsu Dragneel, but Lucy didn't need to know this "- upstairs. Please, do this for me."

Lucy stared at Erza, her mouth dry, and Erza waited, heart beating furiously in her chest.

"What are you going to do?" Lucy said after a moment, standing up cautiously.

Erza smiled grimly. "Whatever it takes."

With that, she turned and bolted from the room, leaving a question to die in the back of Lucy's mouth.

_Please, Gray, _she thought as she bolted through the hallways, searching desperately. _Please get my message in time. Save him, before it's too late._

* * *

Lucy raced upstairs, heart pounding in her chest. Although she was scared- scratch that, she was _terrified-_ Erza was the closest thing she had to a friend in this prison, and no matter what it was that Erza did, even if she killed someone, Erza Scarlet was her friend, and that meant Lucy would do anything to help her. After all, Erza had saved her in more situations than Lucy could remember, and this was the first in many ways Lucy would repay her. She had to.

She ran to Gray's quarters, remembering the directions Erza had given her. Pounding on the door, she cursed angrily when no one answered. Slipping the note underneath, she turned to go, when a burning grip on her arm suddenly pinned her to the wall, a hand covering her mouth before she could scream.

Lucy gasped, staring into fierce eyes. A toothy smile touched the man's face, and he leaned back, looking her over while shaking out his pink locks.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, eyes coming back to land on hers. "What do we have here?"

Lucy responded with a fierce glare and a kick to the man's most vulnerable areas. He groaned immediately, collapsing to the ground while cupping his crown jewels. Lucy spat, turning to run, when a grip on her ankle sent her tumbling to the ground. She gasped, closing her eyes, but the pain never came. Instead, two arms gripped her before lowering her gently to the ground.

Lucy opened her eyes to see the man hovering above her, pain burning in his eyes. "Well," he said slowly, looking her over. "That was unexpected. But let's start again, shall we? Who are you, and how come you slipped a piece of paper into Gray's room?"

Lucy froze, surprised upon the familiarity the man used his name. "A-Are you Zankrow?" she asked hesitantly.

He grinned. "For now. Now spill, what did you slip under Gray's door?"

Lucy struggled to a sitting position, the man, "Zankrow", letting her, eyeing her cautiously.

"Erza sent me," she said, watching his eyes widen in shock. "I think she's in trouble."

The man frowned, suddenly jumping to his feet. He reached out a hand for Lucy, and she took it hesitantly. "Come with me," he said, and turned. She went quietly, watching as the man turned towards Gray's door and kicked, his boots smashing into the wooden frame and sending the door flying in. Lucy gasped, but couldn't do anything as the man dragged her inside, bending down and picking the note up from where it lay on the ground. He flipped it open, reading whatever was inscribed on it, before turning back to Lucy, a fierce glare of desperation burning in his eyes.

"We need to go," he said. "Now."

* * *

Erza gasped, running through the halls with several guards chasing after her. Her legs throbbed, her chest ached, and her face was killing her, from earlier when she was backhanded trying to run from the guards. They were closing in, but as long as Erza was able to distract as many as she could, Gray had a chance.

She set her jaw, seeing more guards appearing in front of her, rounding the corner.

* * *

"Gray!" Natsu's voice came from down the hall, and he turned, frowning, as the pink haired man came running up to him with a blonde girl in tow, who, upon closer inspection, turned out to be Lucy, the serving girl from earlier. "Gray!"

"What?" he asked, eyes widening in alarm as Natsu rushed up, panting in exertion. The pink haired man said nothing, but thrust a crumpled piece of paper in his face.

Gray snatched it and began to read, his heart nearly stopping as he read.

_Something happened. They may be on to us. I'll distract them for as long as I can. You need to run. Now!_

_\- Erza_

He crushed the note in his grasp, clenching his jaw. Then he took a breath, and turned towards Natsu and the blonde. "We've been compromised. Erza's been caught."

"What do you mean she's been caught?," Lucy said, her voice rising in a panic. "Who are you people? What's going-"

Her eyes suddenly rolled to the back of her head and she slumped, falling perfectly into Natsu's waiting arms. Gray raised a brow. "What was that for?" he asked. He'd seen the subtle flick of Natsu's arm against the back of Lucy's neck, rendering her unconscious.

"She was asking too many questions," Natsu replied, gently shifting the blonde in his arms so that her head rested comfortably against his chest. "That doesn't matter right now. What do we do?"

Gray frowned, then looked at the blonde. "Give her to me," he said, taking the blonde in his arms. "Go down to the dungeons and get Laxus and Erik, and meet me by the Stables. I'll find Jellal and Doranbolt. Hurry, Natsu. Erza's giving us time, but we need to go."

Natsu nodded, clapping Gray on the arm. "Watch yourself," he warned, before letting go. "We've officially entered Hell."

* * *

Jellal was in the middle of changing when Gray and Doranbolt burst through his door. With a grunt of surprise, Jellal collapsed in the midst of putting new pants on, his face frozen in a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and annoyance.

"What that-" he began, but stopped halfway due to the looks on their faces. He shut his mouth and pulled his pants up, buckling them quickly.

"We need to go," Gray said.

"Where's Erza?" Jellal fired back.

Gray shook his head. "Please Jellal," he begged, eyes burning with desperation. "We need to go, before it's too late."

Jellal opened his mouth to argue, but Doranbolt reached forward and clasped a hand onto Jellal's wrist. "It'll be okay," he said soothingly. "Just please, come on."

Jellal closed his mouth, and he nodded numbly. "Okay," he whispered, and allowed Doranbolt and Gray to lead him out of his prison.

"Stay low," Gray whispered, rounding a corner. Jellal gasped, eyes widening as a guard noticed them, whipping out his gun and aiming for Gray's unprotected back. Without thinking, Jellal jumped forward, knocking the gun out of the man's hands, despite Gray's warning. The guard snarled at him, hands reaching forwards, but Jellal was seeing red. He dodged the guard's hands and slipped inside his guard, placing his hands on either side of the man's head and jerking quickly to the side, snapping his neck. The man dropped without a sound, and Jellal scooped up his forgotten gun, holding it out in front of him.

"Let's go," he whispered, turning back to Gray and Doranbolt, who was looking at him with wide eyes. "There'll be more of them."

* * *

"Let me go!" Erza screamed, but the men holding her tight had bound her wrists behind her back, making it impossible for her to break free. They dragged her down the hall, kicking and screaming, towards a familiar door. Her stomach dropped in dread as she was pulled inside, dumped at the feet of someone she knew all too well.

"So glad to have you here, Erza Scarlet."

Erza raised her eyes to meet the firm, sadistic gaze of Minerva. The woman smirked and bent down, running a sharp nail down the side of Erza's face.

"What do you want, Minerva?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed, and she grabbed Erza's face, making the redhead wince as sharp nails dug into her skin. "You will address me as Lady Minerva. Scum like you should not call royalty so casually."

Erza yanked her face out of Minerva's grasp. "Get on with it," she hissed, eyes burning in hatred. "What are you doing? Why am I here?"

Minerva opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly, the doors behind Erza opened, and a guard rushed in. He ran forward, speaking in hushed tones to Minerva, while Erza looked on. Minerva's face grew beet red, and she turned to Erza, leaning down and pulling her up from the ground by her shirt.

Erza choked as she was dragged off the ground. "So," Minerva sneered in her face, her breath sickenly sweet. "My precious toy, Jellal, has taken off with a few of my men, so it seems. I bet you knew all about it, didn't you?"

Erza shook her head, secretly pleased Gray had gotten her message. "No-"

"Don't lie to me, I know how the two of you looked at each other," Minerva snarled, dropping Erza on the ground and leaning over her. Holding her hand out, she gestured to the guard, and he hesitantly placed his gun in her hand. "I bet the two of you were planning to run off together, right? Too bad he left you here to fend for yourself. True love, eh?"

Erza glared down the barrel of her gun. "I don't care what you do to me," she spat up at the woman. "Just as long as you never touch him again."

Minerva laughed evilly. "Oh my dear," she crooned. "We're going to have so much fun."

Erza snarled up at Minerva, giving her one last glare full of hatred before Minerva brought the barrel of the gun down on Erza's temple.

* * *

Jellal jumped behind the door of the stables, just barely dodging the bullets that flew past. He collapsed next to Gray, who was currently in the process of saddling his horse. Jellal let him do so and turned, popping off a few rounds towards the guards behind the door.

"Alright, this one's yours!" Gray yelled. "Everyone else is saddled, get on!"

"What about Erza?" Jellal yelled back. "I'm not leaving without her!"

"She can handle herself!" Gray hollered. He strode towards Jellal and grabbed his arm, not caring that bullets are now coming through the door, startling the horse. "We need to go!"

"I promised her I'd get her out of here! I can't leave!" Jellal screamed. He tried to pull himself out of Gray's grip, but years of malnutrition and overexertion had finally taken it's toll. Gray doesn't budge.

"Listen to me, Jellal," Gray hissed. "Erza sacrificed her freedom so that we could get out of here. She knew what she was doing. Don't throw away the gift she's given us. She wouldn't be happy knowing we gave up the opportunity that _she _gave us."

"So she suffers for my sake?" Jellal retaliated. "I can't put her through more torture."

"Then let's get out of here so later on, we can get her back."

Jellal froze. Behind them, Natsu shouted out something, firing off round after round with a limp Lucy slung over the front of his saddle. But Jellal wasn't listening to the pink haired man scream his brains out, instead, his attention was focused completely on what Gray had just said.

"What?"

"We will come back for her," Gray continued. "Just as soon as we get to Rogue. I promise you, we will come back, and rid Pergrande of the royals. We will free Erza. I promise."

"You can't break this promise," Jellal warned. He climbs up onto the saddle, hoisting Gray up behind him. "You can't."

"I won't."

Jellal sighed. "Alright," he whispered. "Let's go."

Gray grins, and draws his gun. "Let's."

They burst out of the stables, Natsu and the others storming behind them, guns blazing. Jellal rode low over his horse's neck while Gray used his gun to ward off the guards. Jellal steered his horse towards the entrance of the grounds, gritting his teeth. He turned his head, taking one more look at the castle, and made a final promise.

"I will save you, Erza. I promise."

Five horses rode away from the castle that evening, carrying seven passengers safely out of the city. Two were men imprisoned underneath the castle, one for simply being the son of the king, the other for being loyal. Another was a palace guard who dreamed of a better life. Two were Fiorian soldiers, one with a heart of fire and the other of ice. Another was a girl caught up between two worlds.

But the last was a man who never broke his promises. And this man, he wasn't going to start now.

* * *

**A/N: Yehet**

**\- Wolf**

**P.S. PLS PLS PLS DROP A REVIEW**


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Fairy Tail, Hurt-Comfort, Suspense