#the guild don’t know where to look and therefore haven’t found them

[professorlegaspi]

Au where Casimir gets his foot in the door early, and Quiroz joins Renasci as a seventh-year

[ohducknewton]

PLEASE write some Fitzroy angst!!! (Maybe about what happened at Knight school? Or at least how he’s dealing with that now?)

“I just cannot comprehend how both of you came to school with neither quills nor parchment. Honestly,” Sir Fitzroy pauses as he peers in another shop window. “It’s a school. Which therefore implies a need of school supplies.”

In response, Argo shrugs and shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his jodhpurs. “Just didn’t seem necessary. I mean, with all the gold we’re forking over to attend said school, is it too much to ask that they throw in a free pen or two?”

Bud nods but remains silent.

The three of them have been wandering the town of Last Hope for no longer than two minutes and Sir Fitzroy is already regretting the offer to go with his new roommates on their little shopping trip. Argo insists on touching every single thing he comes across and Bud has tracked no less than six cubic feet of dirt in the single shop they have tried out so far. Maybe it's not too late to feign a headache, head back to the dorm, and just cover Gary the Gargoyle with a pillow so that any comments about Fitzroy’s social skills are muffled.

“Oh this looks promising!” Argo bounds over to Parchment, Parchment & More Parchment. “How ‘bout it friends? Think we might perhaps be able to obtain parchment here?”

Fitzroy doesn’t dignify his wink with a response and instead starts heading over to the shop, Argo and Bud following close behind.

“Alright, so I would recommend purchasing at least three packets of paper, four if you think-” And before Fitzroy can continue, the door to the shop swings open, barely missing them. With the smell of ink and paper comes two figures and as Fitzroy sees them, his stomach drops.

“Oh terribly sorry, we didn’t-” Sir Leopold starts to say, but immediately stops once he looks up. It's impossible to miss the step back he takes or how wide his eyes go. Next to him, Dame Breora does a once over of Fitzroy and from the set of her smile, he failed the inspection. “Oh! Sir Fitzroy! Or- Wait. Is it still Sir Fitzroy? Or just Fitzroy now?”

Taking a deep, calming breath, Fitzroy pauses before replying. “Yes. Still Sir Fitzroy. My title has not changed.”

“Oh. Well it is such a . . . Surprise to see you Fitzroy.”

“Likewise.” He says, teeth grit and smile tight.

Argo glances between the three of them. “Soooo, are you two friends of Sir Fitzroy here?”

“We went to school together.” Breora replies, only sparing a passing glance to Argo.

Leopold adjusts his tunic and Fitzroy would bet a hundred platinum that he did it just so that the insignia for Clyde Nite’s Night Knight School would be shown more prominently. “The school is doing well if you’re wondering. Well, except the battleground. That’s still out of commission after, well- You know.”

“Yes indeed I do know.” Fitzroy puts both his hands behind his back, grabbing one of his wrists. “I was there after all.”

“Of course.”

The five of them are still just standing there in the doorway, no one making any motion to move.

“Well this was-”

“So do you-”

Both Fitzroy and Breora stop as their words come out jumbled and on top of one another. “Please,” he says. “After you.”

“I was just going to ask if you-” She looks him up and down before wiggling her fingers. “You know . . .”

The grip on his wrist becomes near painful. “Still have magic? No actually, I visited my cleric and got a cream prescribed for it. Cleared all that magic right up!”

Leopold falters. “Really?”

“No of course not, magic is literally in all of my bones. Why can no one tell when I’m being facetious?”

Behind him, Buddy coughs. 

“Well, that’s-” Leopold glances at Breora. “That’s cool.” 

“Cool is certainly, a word.”

The awkward silence is back with a fury and Fitzroy is truly concerned at this point that his gauntlets are going to be permanently bent out of shape as he grips them. “Well this was fun.” Fitzroy says as he steps aside to let Breora and Leopold pass. “But my compatriots and I really must be going.”

Argo pats him on the shoulder as he says, “Indeed! We certainly don’t want Parchment, Parchment and More Parchment to run out of parchment, now do we? Can’t complete our homework without it!”

Breora tilts her head, Leopold mirroring her in what would almost be funny if Fitzroy didn’t know exactly where this conversation was headed. “Oh? You’ve enrolled in a new school, have you Fitzroy?”

The surprise coloring her voice starts to color Fitzroy’s vision red. “Yes. I have.”

“Well good for you.” Leopold says, getting a critical failure on his deception check and not caring. “I had assumed that after what happened, other schools would be a bit hesitant to accept you. So that’s wonderful that you’ve found one who is willing to look past all that. What’s the name of this place?”

Bud and Argo share a look. Fitzroy does his best not to challenge him to a duel right then and there. 

“Hieronymous Wiggenstaff's School for Heroism and Villainy.”

“Huh.” Leopold raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t heard of it.”

“Me either.”

And for the cherry on top of this shit sunday- Argo starts to laugh. 

This is it. This is fucking it. Fitzroy’s done. Fitzroy’s out! Built in friends, yeah right Gary! More like just another couple of bastards who will find such delight in his misery! It doesn’t matter if he has to sleep in Godscar Chasm itself, he’s not spending another second with these-

“Sorry,” Argo gets out through his laughter. “It’s just- How have you never heard of Hieronymous Wiggenstaff's School for Heroism and Villainy?”

Fitzroy freezes.

“I mean, it is one of only two schools that have been given a triple diamond rating from the Heroic Oversight Guild and three out every five professional heroes and villains are Wiggenstaff alumni!”

Argo is literally spouting off the spiel from the pamphlets verbatim, but Fitzroy honestly couldn’t care less because Breora’s and Leopold’s faces are priceless.

“I just can’t imagine how you couldn’t have heard of it, can you Bud?”

Behind him, Bud shakes his head and speaks for the first time since this encounter began. “My clan has lived deep within forest for summers beyond count. Many of us born and buried without ever seeing your cities or people. And yet . . .” He looks to the sky as a flock of birds flies above them. “ . . . I had still heard of this school.”

Fitzroy can’t keep the grin off his face.

Breora and Leopold sure can.

But before they can say anything else, Argo leans in closer to Fitzroy and stage whispers. “Maybe it’s for the best you no longer attend that school. Doesn’t seem like their curriculum is up to par if you know what I mean. Now if you’ll pardon us.”

And when Argo move towards the door, both Breora and Leopold move out of the way without a word.

It’s only once they’re fully inside the shop, away from prying ears, that Bud comments, “They are terrible.”

“I have to agree my Firbolg friend. I thought knights were all about chivalry and honor, but those two really sucked.” Argo laughs, but stops as he turns to him. “You alright Sir Fitzroy?”

“Yes of course, I have enough sense to not let the two of them get to me.” He nearly leaves it at that, but after a moment he adds on softly, “Thank you.”

As the three of them go about shopping for school supplies, neither Argo nor Bud press about what happened at Clyde Nite’s Night Knight School, don’t even hint at wanting to know. Fitzroy can’t appreciate it enough. Instead, they chat about homework or new names for Bud or what Groundsy is hiding in his hut (the current bet is on a second identical backup Groundsy). And as they wander through Last Hope, Argo touching every single thing he comes across no matter if it has a clear ‘No Touching’ sign or not, and Bud creating a verifiable trail of dirt wherever they go, Fitzroy finds he doesn’t mind anymore.

Maybe Gary the Gargoyle was telling the truth about this whole ‘Built In Friends’ thing.

Just maybe.

[fallen029]

Milkshake

When she set the milkshake down in front of him, Laxus just eyed it for a few long moments before dragging his eyes up to meet the demon's, her blues alight both with glee and almost indignation. A challenge.

"You're going to drink it, Laxus," she ordered in what might have been a dark tone, had she not let out an involuntary giggle between breaths, "and you're going to like it."

He didn't want to like it. Or drink it.

For one thing, there was a massive snowstorm going on, right outside the guildhall doors, and the huge place was absolutely impossible to heat. Impossible. Especially with just the two of them in there. The late hour did little to help either. No, it was fucking freezing in the guild, honestly, and there was no way that he wanted to lower his body temperature even further by slurping down a milkshake.

For two, he just didn't want it. Even if the sun outside was blazing and the temperature boiling, he didn't want a milkshake. At all. He knew why Mirajane thought he did, or at least why she was insistent that he at least take a sip, but he in no way felt this need himself.

For three, it would feel super childish. To drink one. Wouldn't it? The fact that Mirajane had stuck a huge twisty straw, usually reserved for Asuka, right in the middle of the thick mixture did very little to help with this perception.

But still, as he only looked on with apprehension, the barmaid beamed insistently, right into his eyes.

"I am not," he told her simply, "drinking that."

"Oh, but you are, Laxus," she insisted with a nod. "And don't forget to like it."

"Mirajane-"

"It's the only way," she kept up and it was his fault.

The whole thing.

His whole life, sometimes, it felt like.

As he sat there, watching the cherry atop his milkshake sink lower into the frothy concoction, it was hard not to find blame in himself. He knew how Mirajane Strauss was. By which he meant, of course, completely kooky and off her rocker. Why was it then that he found himself opening up to her?

Sigh.

The old man, Gramps, well, he just wasn't feeling too well recently and, with it snowing so much the past few days, Laxus offered to do anything up at the hall for him that he needed. Anything at all. Just so the old man didn't leave his house. And though Gramps griped, Makarov did seem to see the necessity in this.

His only grumbled direction, however, was, "Ask Mirajane."

"Ask her what?" Laxus had questioned back, perhaps a bit dumbly.

"What you need to do," Makarov barked right back. Stifling a bit, he settled back into bed as Laxus stood over it, having forced the man to get right back in it only minutes before. "She's the one who would know. She knows everything about the guildhall."

And she did.

Mirajane enjoyed her job, out there serving drinks and soaking up juicy gossip, but it was hardly the extent of her work. Oh, no. Master Makarov relied on her for much of the behind the sense things and, well, she'd kind of been putting off telling him about a few things, recently. Things that weren't necessarily time-sensitive, but if Laxus was willing to preform some forgery (he was a Dreyar, right; who cared which one) as well as put his complete and utter blind faith in her judgment, then, well, she could knock out some work alright.

She was just lucky, the slayer insisted to himself as his entire day was eaten up by the woman's endless tasks and requests, that the Thunder Legion were out and therefore he was free. Erza had snagged the job he wanted and he'd been planning to sulk around about it for a bit, but, well, this kept him from drinking all day, at least.

Still, she seemed to just go on and on and, before he knew it, the night was upon them and she still had him there, down on his knees, tightening up a pipe in the kitchen area.

"I just worry," Mira was sighing a bit, "about the pipes bursting. I always do. I mean, I always have the exposed ones cover and I do that thing where you drip water, just a bit, you know?"

"No," Laxus grumbled from where he was busy breaking his back for the woman. "I don't."

But she only giggled and there was something about her. That he couldn't admit to himself, not even as he'd spent the entire day doing her needless bidding. Mirajane reminded him that it was doable. All of it. What he was grasping at, sometimes, now. With the guild. She...changed. For as horrific as a catalyst as it was, something made her change and she followed through and now she was this A person who didn't hate everyone and everything and actually seemed pretty high on life most of the time.

And that was before her sister came back, even.

.Though she was for sure an extreme example, Mirajane was a good one to remind him that, hey, no matter what, if you try hard enough, if you don't give into it, into yourself, then you can be better. You will be better.

Good people aren't just born that way; they struggle for it. And Mirajane showed that it was worth it.

Plus...well…

Maybe he was kinda sweet on her.

Maybe just a bit.

"Where is everyone?" he complained as he walked a bit funny, maybe, because his back was killing him as the pair found themselves in the empty guildhall finally.

"It's closing time, silly."

"It's what?" he griped with a glare, but Mirajane only smiled with a giggle.

"It's also coming down really hard outside," she remarked as they could hear it, in the utter silence of the hall. The snow of heavy snow falling on the other side of the thick guildhall doors. Laxus hadn't been in the hall when it was so empty in...in...in a long ass time.

It unnerved him for some reason.

"Yeah, well," he grumbled a bit in reply, uncertain of what else there was to say. IT wasn't as if the two of them were known for striking up conversations together. One or two, here or there, and maybe more than he had with most, but after spending all those hours together, he figured they were all dried up on conversation for the next month. At least.

Boy, was he wrong.

"What were your plans for today then?" she asked as she waltzed across the cool barroom floor, back over to her typical position behind the bar. As she began to extract jewels from the register, she added, "Before I made you help out?"

He could have been super pissy at her, as he'd been pretending the entire afternoon and evening over this little excursion, but…

"I was just gonna drink," he said honestly. "All day."

"Well," she began as, setting the jewels she was counting out down on the counter, the woman turned to grab a pitcher of ale and a mug, "the least I can do is treat you to some right now, huh?"

Laxus should have gone home. Something inside of him told him he should go home. Everything outside of him, especially the worsening conditions beyond the guildhall doors, told him to head home.

"One drink won't hurt," he decided as Mirajane only smiled, not having one herself, he'd never seen her have one herself, but maybe that's why she was a reformed bad person and he was just still learning.

He put it back while the woman busied herself around the bar. While the man had some inkling that closing up the place each night wasn't a pleasurable activity, actually watching the woman move so effortlessly through the laundry list was impressive. Without any prompting from him though, she seemed to note that he'd finished his beer and rushed right over for a refill.

Again, the hesitation was there from the man, but…

"What's one more?" he asked and, for a guy his size, not much, but just enough to loosen the tongue and how did it happen?

How did he get there?

How did he find himself mentioning to Mirajane Strauss something so personal? So deep? So close to the vest? He could blame the alcohol, if he wanted, but the woman hardly had to even prod him, if she did at all, before he found himself just spilling his guts to her.

"We used to go out in the snow," Mira was sighing as she seemed to be a bit more aimless now, just wiping down the bar absently, there, in front of him, "when I was little, with my parents. And, like, we'd pour sap, you know? Over it? And then eat it."

Laxus made a face at her before remarking, "Not a lot to eat, huh? Out in the sticks?"

"We did that for fun, Laxus. It was a fun activity. A treat."

"Sure."

She made something of a face then, maybe, before whatever deprogramming she'd used to never be a normal person again and just a bubbly happy one took over. As the woman looked away, she seemed to think before asking, "Didn't you ever do something special? With your mother, I mean?"

It wasn't a one to one situation, but he did find himself revealing what he did next. Maybe it was because no one had asked about her, his mother, in so long. No one seemed brave enough. He doubted most even knew what ever happened to her. But given Mira's long association with the guild, as well as strong ties with his grandfather, Laxus wasn't too surprised by her bravery. And given the fact that she'd just somehow conned him into free manual labor for an entire day, he figured he should stop being shocked by the woman's charms.

She worked them on every other man in the guild. Why should he feel so special?

Why did he feel so special?

"My mom," he began though it didn't feel like it, really, him talking, "used to make me, like, these really big...milkshakes."

He looked up at the woman then and could see a bit of her skepticism boring through the facade and she seemed to think he was setting up for some lame joke like the other men in the hall. But he wasn't. His eyes were filled with honesty.

"She'd make it so thick and sweet and just…" He coughed then, feeling kind of dumb, honestly, but still added, "I haven't had one since she died."

"What do you mean?"

"A malt. Milkshake. Whatever. I haven't… When I was a kid, I just didn't get one. If I went to the ice cream shop."

"Because it would remind you of her?"

He was just as honest then as he insisted, "Before none would ever taste as good."

And that was a challenge, it seemed like, as Mirajane smiled at him while remarking, "Some people think I make a pretty good one too."

"I mean, you grew up eating literal brown snow, so-"

"Sit," Mira ordered before rushing away, "and wait."

He shouldn't have. He should have called out to her and ended it all, finally, but she was rushing off to the deep freeze, down in the basement, to find some ice cream, and he was just going to sit there. Accepting this. Dealing with this.

Because he was special. And this was special. He and Mirajane were friends, more so than any of the other losers that salivated at her feet and this was the exact kind of ribbing friends put up with.

Only, Mirajane wasn't ribbing. At all. Mirajane was completely serious and when she arrived from the back with a glass filled with delicious sugar and whipped toppping, Laxus had only himself to blame.

Again.

Like always.

"I don't," he told the woman then, "eat cherries."

And that was fine, it seemed, as Mirajane plucked the little red fruit from where it rested atop the fluffy white cream, tossing it back into her own mouth with the same ease he'd downed the drinks.

"They're not," she agreed with an equally antagonizing tone, "for everyone."

"What are we even trying to prove?" he questioned then. "That you make a better milkshake than my dead mother?"

The bluntness had been intended to deflate her sails a bit, but this somehow missed the mark as the white haired woman only shrugged a bit as she replied, "You're the only person who could ever know for certain. If my milkshake is better than the nostalgia-laced trauma of your mother's death, then I can tell people, with certainty, I make the best milkshake."

"You're a fucking psycho, you know that?" He knew it, anyways. He always had. Even if the others never seemed to see it anymore, he knew that buried deep beneath all the things that kept her the perky, innocent barmaid she was today lied the same darkness that he was still battling to subdue. "Certifiable."

"Take," she insisted once more, "a sip."

It was fucking freezing in the bar and, even with his fluffy coat draped over his shoulders, Laxus felt a strange cold shiver travel up his back. Yet there was Mirajane Strauss, in her typical dress, bare arms, no extra padding at all, non too slyly licking the whipped cream off her finger tips, residuals from her cherry taking.

"What happens if you win? Or lose?"

"Well," Mira hummed, "I really don't think your dead mother is gonna pony up a prize if she loses-"

"Goddamn, Mirajane." He wasn't annoyed. Or bothered. Shaken. If anything, just in awe. "You're just gonna really go there tonight, huh?"

"What's a little humor between orphans?" she asked, but this time, her tone was tainted with something different then. A sadness, almost, maybe. But as she looked away, feeling something of the heaviness then, maybe even regretting her own cavalier attitude towards the topic.

But it was then, as she considered this, that Laxus took the plunge. Or at the very least it was in that moment that he braved hypothermia and reached out to grasp the glass. Pulling it closer, he sucked down enough of the icy mixture to send a sharp pain up through his cranium, but was hard to bemoan the action when ti brought a bright smile right back to the barmaid's lips.

"So?" she prompted, eyes alight as a storm raged outside, bringing the heaviest of snow, the deadliest of ice.

He blinked, hard, a heavy weight coming over him momentarily. But when he opened his eyes and found hers there, still, waiting so expectantly, he couldn't linger on the darkness for long. Instead, he only found his voice.

"Nowhere near," he told her simply, "as good as my mother's."

"Shoot." Mira huffed some then, pouting, maybe, but this was never an emotion that she felt for long. Just as quickly she was bubbly once more as she insisted, "Then I'll just have to keep trying."

"Why?" he proposed right back, but Mirajane only titled her head to the side, staring hard at him for once, truly.

"Because we're friends, Laxus," she insisted then. "Aren't we?"

He didn't know.

Or at least he didn't before that very moment.

She was always someone he could tolerate, more than all the other annoying younger kids, when they were teens. And then she kind of became someone he pitied, honestly, but beneath that…

He knew he was stronger than her. A better trained mage. But Mirajane had something inside of her, something far more fearsome than his lacrima, and he liked it best when it was contained.

Well, mostly.

Nowadays, he found her to be more on his level, mentally, than all the others. Not the Thunder Legion, of course, but the rest of them…

Mirajane knew what the apex tasted like. And she also knew what it meant to depart from it. She was the better person he wanted (to a lesser degree, of course) to be one day, hopefully, eventually. She was easy to talk to, given all their commonalities, and he just…

He'd never thought about it before.

What they were to one another.

"Yeah, Mira," he agreed as a grin spread across his own face. Just a light one, hardly even one at all, but he could tell she took notice. "We're friends."

The storm subsided eventually. Just enough for them to escape the hall. As they skid through the streets in opposite directions though, the hours they spent together already becoming distant, a memory, Laxus just hoped that it felt as important to her as it did to him.

Which it seemed to, maybe, as when he found himself at the hall a few days later, coming to join the Thunder Legion at their table, Mirajane seemed to key in on him quickly.

"Here, Laxus!" She bounded over to him a few minutes later with a special drink, just for him. A milkshake, of course. "And look, this straw even loopier, don't you think?"

Laxus felt a heat spread across his body as the barmaid set this before him, some others taking note and glancing over, but Mirajane paid no one any mind. She winked at the man, made some sort of comment implying him getting back to her on the best milkshake he'd ever had, before disappearing once more. Err, well, no, not disappearing. Getting back to work. But Laxus could focus on nothing now other than anything that wasn't the woman, so she might as well have.

"What," Evergreen hissed, at him of all people, under her breath as she feared, no doubt, the man being involved with a Strauss as well, "was that about?"

"Yes, Laxus." Freed seemed most concerned as well. "Why has Mirajane presented you with a-"

"We're," the slayer grumbled through ground teeth, "friends."

"Friends, eh?" Bickslow had no problem with reaching over to snatch at the man's beverage. "Well, me and you are friends too, huh? So what do ya say you slide that on over-"

"Papa!" the seith's babies cried out as he was struck then by a sharp lightning strike, falling out of his chair even, as all his muscles seized. "Papa!"

But after sending a warning glare around at anyone else who might think to tease him over this, Laxus only pulled his drink closer, taking a sip as his eyes slipped shut. He could hear her nearby, Mirajane, giggling with one of the other stupid women in the bar about something, he imagined, was equally as stupid, but it was fine. Just as well.

Savoring the taste in his mouth, Laxus swallowed as he blinked his eyes open lazily once more.

It still wasn't as good.

But, if it meant the woman had to keep trying, well…

Maybe being friends wasn't so bad.

Maybe.

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week Day 4: Hot Springs and Vacations

Summary: Having been given a second chance to become an S-Class mage, Freed had put his focus on making himself strong. The issue was that he overworked himself, and Laxus couldn't deal with it anymore. So what else could he do but take his husband to a hot spring to relax?

This is my fourth admission for Fraxus Week event for twenty-nineteen hosted by the tumbler user @fuckyeahfraxus. This one is fluffy but also a little hurt and comfort based. It's from the prompt 'Vacation/Hot Springs.'

You can read it on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. I hope you all enjoy it!

Day 4: Solace and Steam

As they walked down the street, Freed came to the conclusion that Laxus had lied about why they had come to the scenic mountain town.

Two days prior, Laxus had apparently found a mission on the S-Class board that he wanted to take. He stated that the mission was in the relatively close-by vacation town of Takayama which had been struggling to fight against a group of arsonists, who were said to have been targeting all resorts and destroying them in an attempt to ruin the towns economy. The mission, of course, called for the arsonists to be stopped as soon as possible, as if the acts of destruction were to continue at the rate they were happening then the town would be crippled within the month. As the town was located nearing the peak of a mountain, relatively secluded, and with no other reliable sources of income, time was of the essence.

Laxus had claimed that the mission was perfect for them. The S-Class trials were coming fast and Freed was going to be a contender again, meaning this could be good practice for what was to come. Freed had agreed, and the next day they had packed up enough clothes to pass for a week – how long Laxus had predicted the mission would take – and left Magnolia to start their work.

But now Freed was thinking he had been lied to.

The town was incredibly pleasant. Rustic buildings designed to look like old-fashioned lodges sat undisturbed in the snowy environment, cafes and coffee shops were open and advertising their products with chalk-drawn signs, and people walked without any worry nor concern. Not exactly the behaviour expected of people who had been hit by multiple arson attacks.

It had taken about twenty minutes of walking in the town for Freed to be sure Laxus had lied about why they were there. There was still no signs of arson and destruction, and Laxus seemed just a bit too confident as he navigated the town that should have been unfamiliar.

"Laxus," He eventually said. "There haven't been any attacks here, has there?"

"Figured it out, huh?" Laxus chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck slightly as he stopped in his place. "No, there's not. Made the mission up so I could get you to come up here."

"May I ask as to why you did that?" Freed asked, voice slightly irritated.

His annoyance wasn't aimed towards Laxus himself, rather the fact the time taken to get here, and however long Laxus wanted to keep him here, was probably now wasted. Before he had been told of the fictional mission, his plan had been to perfect a new fighting style in which he would better include his enchantments. He'd been happy to put that aside when the alternative was performing an S-Class mission, but it now seemed like time he couldn't get back.

"Because of that face you're making," Laxus answered, crossing his arms. Freed snapped his head towards his husband in a silent question. "The second you realised this wasn't going to be productive, your face gets all stressed. Happens every time you try to relax recently, and I'm sick of seeing it."

"Well, I'll admit I have been working harder than normal," Freed began, slightly defensive now. "But I'm not doing anything that I can't handle."

"So Levy was lying when she told me she found you passed out in the training ground and had to take you to the recovery room to check you didn't get sun stroke a couple weeks ago?" Laxus looked down at his husband, who remained silent. "Thought so."

"Fine," Freed backed down, not enjoying the slightly saddened tone his husband spoke in. "So, why have you taken me here, exactly?"

"Glad you asked," Laxus grinned, voice more upbeat now.

The blonde wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulders and pulled him a little closer – both to be more intimate with the man, as well as proving he felt no annoyance or anger towards Freed nor his actions – and began to walk again. Freed looked around, slightly lightened now he knew there was no chance of being attacked by a group of fire mages; it was admittedly a beautiful place. The snow-covered ground combined with the log-cabin style buildings made the entire town look as though it was a postcard location.

"I know I can't stop you from pushing yourself altogether, and I don't want to, but if you keep going like you are, you'll just burn out again," Laxus began, and they turned a corner again. "So, to give you some time to recover, we're gonna stay here for a week. There's a place called the Charcoal Retreat that's meant to be pretty good for getting away from everything."

As they walked, Laxus began to recount the features offered by the retreat that they could make use of. Hot springs that were warmed by the natural heat coming from the mountain, an extensive spa containing all the luxuries of a world class resort, and a large pool open throughout the day and night were all particularly interesting to Freed. The pool specifically, Freed had always found swimming therapeutic and being able to do so in the night, hopefully alone, would be a perfect way that he could relax himself.

Laxus also mentioned massage therapy, but insisted he be the person to help Freed in that regard. Freed wasn't going to argue.

When they arrived at the retreat itself, it seemed to follow the same architectural theme as the rest of the town, though at a considerably larger scale. Laxus walked into the front reception and towards the main desk, placing the bags down on the carpeted floor. Freed followed his husband's lead, looking around silently; it was both luxurious and quaint, Laxus must have spent a lot of time thinking through where they would stay.

He would have to thank him properly later. This was incredibly thoughtful.

It didn't take long for Laxus to sign into the retreat and hand their luggage to the person on the other side of the desk, meaning they were soon free to visit their room. As they walked down the rustically themed halls of the retreat, Freed intertwined his fingers with his husband and moved so their sides brushed against each other.

"Thank you for this," He whispered, adoring a soft smile. "I'm sorry if I've been worrying you."

"You haven't," Laxus assured him, smiling just as softly down at him. "I know you're not an idiot and you weren't looking to overwork yourself, but I just wanna make sure that you're okay. And we can both get a little focused on a goal to see what we're doing."

"It's still sweet of you," Freed brought their hands up and kissed Laxus' knuckles.

"Yeah well, it's what a husband's for," Laxus chuckled, stopping when he saw the door to their rooms. He pulled the key and opened their room for the week. He continued speaking with a grin. "And when I walked down the aisle with ya, I knew you were the most stubborn guy I knew, and I'd have to deal with that."

"I'm the most stubborn man you know?" Freed chuckled. "You remember which guild you come from, right."

"I do," Laxus smirked. "And just 'cause you're all refined and shit, doesn't mean your any less stubborn than the rest of us."

Freed chuckled at his husband's gentle teasing at his expense and walked into the impressive room. Laxus must have invested a fair amount of money into the retreat, because it was clear the moment, they entered the town that nobody on a budget would be able to spend any real time there. And to have what is clearly one of the more luxurious – and therefore more expensive – meant that Laxus couldn't have done this on a whim.

The blonde removed his scarf and coat, placing them on the bed and looking towards the open fireplace that had been set alight before the two had entered. Freed did the same after closing the door, though also cupped his husband's chin and pressed their lips together.

"Seriously, thank you," Freed said softly, their foreheads still touching. "I know you must have put a lot of effort into organising this, and you were probably worried badly about me to do this, and I really am thankful that you did."

"You really don't need to," Laxus smiled, leaning down and kissing Freed again. "And if this is the kinda attention I'm gonna get, this place has already paid for itself."

"How much did it cost?" Freed asked, looking around. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah, I've been scouting around for a little while and this place was the best one I could find," Laxus grinned, moving his hands down so they rested on the rune mage's waist. "Nice and secluded, pretty much all of the reviews were great, and their whole appeal was to relax you. Exactly what I needed, as well as being in a pretty romantic place, so I can treat my husband the way he deserves."

"To think that the great and powerful Laxus Dreyar is so romantic. What would your teenage self-think?" Freed teased with a chuckle, Laxus nudging him. "How long have you been looking to take a break?"

Laxus blushed a little, and Freed frowned. With a slightly embarrassed expression, Laxus spoke. "About a month or so."

"Have I been overworking myself for that long?" Freed frowned.

The incident wherein Levy had found him collapsed in the training ground had been two weeks ago, and while he had been forcing himself to train harder than he normally would after learning about his place in the upcoming S-Class trial, but surely he hadn't made Laxus concerned the moment the announcement of that years participants. So, either Laxus had anticipated that Freed would work himself into such a state where the time away was needed, or he was already planning to take Freed away for no reason other to treat him. Either way, it made the rune-mage smile softly and bring their lips together again.

The kiss was less chaste this time and ended with Freed lying on the bed with Laxus hovering over him slightly. It stopped before it could get heated, and both men looked at each other with an expression that could only be described as lovestruck on their faces.

"You really are a good husband," Freed smiled, leaning up and planting a chaste kiss on his lover.

"Nah, not that good," The blonde grinned. "The real reason I picked this place was because I knew it had a great pool and wanted to watch you in a swimsuit for as long as I could."

It was clearly a joke, and Freed was laughing even before his husband pulled a ridiculous facial expression that contains wiggling his eyebrows in an overly suggestive way that was practically pantomime. The blonde was soon laughing too, and both men enjoyed the small moment of complete relaxation and comfort. The two weren't the most dramatic about their relationship, instead favouring to have small moments of complete bliss shared between them both, and Freed couldn't help but think this would be one he looked back on in days to come.

They started to kiss again, Freed bringing his hands into Laxus' hair to pull him as close as possible. Laxus quickly returned the kiss, and the world seemed to the both of them as they were the only ones in it.

For perhaps the first time since his part in the trial was announced, Freed felt himself truly relax and enjoy himself. Yes, maybe Laxus may not shout his romantic side from the rooftops and maybe they weren't the type of couple to push their happiness in other people's faces, but Freed would never say that Laxus wasn't anything but a damn good husband.

"Seriosuly though," Laxus grinned when the pulled apart. "You wanna go to the pool now, right?"

Within in a moment, both men were overthrown by laughter again.

-~~~-

It was at the end of the week when Freed and Laxus found themselves at the hot springs for the first time. They hadn't been putting it off, particularly, but the private baths have been fully booked until them and neither thought the idea of bathing with strangers would help relax them; more so given the pseudo-celebrity status being well known mages gave them. Still, when the availability presented itself, there was no reason not to take it.

Freed lowered himself into the steaming water first, allowing his muscles to relax in the comforting heat. The bath was located in what seemed to be a cave, though it had clearly been calved out and the rocks polished to the point where it felt like a regular room.

Laxus came in a little later, placing his town on the nearby rack and sliding into the water beside his husband. He let out a slightly satisfied groan as the coolness of the mountainous region was removed entirely by the hot water. He slid down so that it was covering him up to his neck, closing his eyes and letting the calmness and silence overtake him. When Freed looked over to him, the blonde was wearing a small but content smile; one that Freed mirrored as he too let himself sink further into the water so that he could relax.

The week had been great, and indeed had been a relaxing break that Freed needed. The time spent away from his magic training allowed him to recover from what he now knew was strenuous overworking. Equally important, he had also allowed his mind to wonder instead of focusing obsessively on how he could improve himself.

He was incredibly thankful that Laxus had done this.

But, as this was the last day of their vacation, it meant that reality was going to present itself again and Freed knew that he couldn't fight the oncoming thoughts that came with this. His overworking had been some sort of a defence, Freed had surmised, and now he needed to confront the reality that being nominated for the S-Class trials had revealed.

Freed was nervous.

He hated feeling like this, as it was unfamiliar to him. He had almost always been entirely sure of himself – he was skilled in the ways needed to do what he wanted, and always had been – so nervousness was something of an unfamiliar sensation. But performing in the S-Class trials was something unfamiliar and unpredictable, and he would be doing so against a series of mages who were just as passionate and powerful as he was if the circumstances called for it.

The moment he heard the S-Class rank existed; he knew he'd get there. He was a logical man and knew that the next step in his professional life was to enter the next grade of mage work. It had been his working goal the moment he joined Fairy Tail, so perhaps he had built up expectations of what the trial would mean.

He hadn't felt like this last time, which made his nervousness feel even more absurd. And he knew that the reason he didn't feel nervous before was because he wasn't going to take it seriously as an act of apology towards Cana.

But still, even knowing that, he still felt shit feeling like he did.

The heat of the hot spring now affording him a clear mind and space to think, Freed couldn't stop the nervousness seeping in. He tried to not let his mind dwell on it and thought back through the week in a hope that the memories of what had happened would bring him back to the relaxed state that he'd felt when they had happened; it didn't help.

"Freed," Laxus' voice was in a soft whisper, and Freed opened his eyes to look at him. "You're wearing that face again."

The rune mage sighed, leaning his head against the man's shoulder. "Sorry."

"Keep telling ya, you don't need to apologise," Laxus turned to Freed and pressed his lips against Freed's head. "It's really fucking with you, isn't it? Is that why you've been pushing yourself, 'cause you're stressed about the trial?"

"I suppose," Freed sighed, softly looking up to his husband. "It's just that… basically the moment I became a mage, the goal was to become as successful as possible and to do that I needed to become an S-Class mage. Perhaps I gave it some kind of mythical status in my mind without really realising I was doing it, and now that I've got a legitimate chance of making it a reality, it's just starting to get to me. Is that stupid?"

"Don't think so," Laxus assured him, gently playing with a green stand of hair that floated in the water. "It is a big deal, and as much as you have control about most things, nobody can stop themselves from feeling nervous about something."

Freed nodded slightly. "Were you nervous about your trial?"

"Course I was. Wouldn't admit it, though," Laxus leant back, smiling slightly. "I was too busy thinking emotions made you weak to actually talk about what I was feeling. But yeah, I closed myself off even more than I normally had because I didn't wanna look weak."

Laxus remembered back to his teenage years when he received the S-Class title. It was in a time where he was most unhappy and rebellious in the guild, and he was starting to become more arrogant and dismissive of his guildmates. It was before Freed and the rest of the Raijinshuu had joined the guild, so he was essentially alone and dealing with his nervousness about the trial in his own head. It hadn't been good for him, and he remembered more than one sleepless night the stress caused, so he was determined that Freed would at least have someone to vent to.

For Laxus, the S-Class trials had meant more than achieving a goal. He had been so sure in his abilities that he needed to win. If he failed, all the claims about him being the most powerful member in the guild would blow up in his face. He didn't think he could handle it.

He had to wonder if Freed was feeling like that, in some way.

"You know, I didn't pass the trial the first time I did it," Laxus admitted, and Freed looked up at him with a frown. He hadn't been told this before.

"You didn't?" He asked with a small frown.

"No, the same year I first went for it, Mystogan did as well," Laxus began, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Honestly, forgot the guy existed; I was too busy in my own head to remember. I thought the trials were just for me; more of a test than a competition. Then when we got to the end, we had to fight, and I pretty much forgot everything about him. He knew enough about me, so made a good plan on how to deal with me and won pretty easily."

The blonde could remember vividly what it was like after that defeat. He refused to see anyone in the guild after that – there was no way he wouldn't be the punchline of every joke after that – and it had been one of the first times in his life he'd suffered a real defeat.

But now, he looked back on it as a good thing. Because he'd gotten over it, and it hadn't ruined his life.

"Freed, I'm not saying you need to prepare to lose, because I honestly think you can do it easily," Laxus assured him, kissing the top of his head again and smiling when Freed shuffled closer to him. "What I am saying is, I know what it's like to think that the trial is the most important thing in the world, and I know what it's like to fail at doing that. And if it does happen, you can get past it. And it certainly ain't worth pushing yourself to exhaustion in training when you're powerful enough to walk it with the spells you've got now."

"I know the world won't end if I don't succeed. It's just that, I don't know, just because I know I don't need it immediately doesn't mean that I don't want it," Freed sighed.

"I get that," Laxus nodded. "And I do think that you've got a good chance of winning this thing. But you gotta be able to take a step without fainting to do it."

Freed nodded, his worries now less on his mind as he looked through the steam and let the hot water relax his muscles. He was now leaning completely on his husband's side and the larger man was gently running his hands through Freed's hair, a small but comforting gesture that the rune mage was thankful for.

He began to think about the trial again, but in a different light compared to how he had before. He now felt a sense of relaxed determination; he wasn't obligated to win the trial, but he was still intending to get the title.

As his mind wondered, one thought in particular stuck and made him laugh. Laxus looked down at him with a small frown of confusion when he heard it.

"Sorry," Freed chuckled. "I'm just imagining how you reacted losing to a person you had forgotten existed. Given what I've been told about how you reacted when you were a teenager, I'm sure that you were calm and rational."

Laxus grinned, nudging his husband as they both knew there was no chance of that happening. "Asshole."

Freed also grinned, glad to have a distraction as Laxus told him just how calm he had been when he realised, he wouldn't be getting the title the first time. Freed couldn't be sure if Laxus had been exaggerating or not when he claimed that he had a 'large tantrum' and 'electrocuted the shit out of the ocean' on the boat trip back from the island. Freed often forgot that Laxus was a pretty talented storyteller, but the vivid image of Laxus' childish pouting was enough to remind the rune mage.

"Seriously though," Laxus said softly as the story ended. "Whatever happens, you'll be fine. You're strong as hell, a talented fighter, and a great husband. You're great."

"Thank you," Freed smiled. "You're a damn good husband too."

[selenium-drive]

Stay Gold Chapter 6: The Rescue

TW: Depictions of violence/blood, kidnapping, physical abuse

Words: 7k

Series rating: Explicit

"Why are you suggesting we go back to Tattooine?" Mando sighed exasperatedly.

"Because," Tajana began, "I can look around town for parts necessary to get the Crest running better. I have close ties with a lot of parts dealers there."

She sorted through bundles of frayed wires that were on the verge of touching the oppositely charged pieces dangerously next to it. Her skilled fingers pried apart the multicolored strands, twisting the correct pieces together and spacing the copper wires a safer distance from one another. Maker, this was a catastrophe waiting to happen. Besides the obvious safety risks, her own pride, and she supposed Mando's as well, was at stake. She was still irritated about how Zero harshly critiqued the ship before the start of their last mission, with his not so sugar coated observations at how flawed the Crest was. Their failed attempt at replenishing their dwindling supplies was also a contending factor in the need to stop somewhere. "We also need to stock up on bacta and food, for real this time. That little incident in Corellia put a damper on things," she added.

Mando sighed once more. "I'm not made of credits, you know," he grumbled. "I'll have to find more work while we're there. I still need to pay you for all you've done around here these past few weeks."

Tajana stood up and wiped the sweat from her brow. "We'll worry about that later. Right now we need enough to be able to get what we need to take care of the kid and each other."

"That may be so, but these lower paying jobs we're lucky enough to find, aren't covering much of anything," Mando admitted bitterly.

Tajana fiddled with the tips of her gloves, then slowly began to pull them off while staring at the Mandalorian's boots. "If you don't mind me asking," she started nervously, "what happened with the Guild?"

Mando swallowed hard. She hadn't asked any questions before about much of anything involving him and the kid. He supposed it was only fair that he give her an answer, especially seeing how she brought herself to reveal information about her upbringing he was sure not many people had heard before.

"It's...complicated. I took on a mission to find the kid and when it came time to turn him in, I couldn't," Mando explained. "Well, I mean I did, but then I ended up going back for him. The man who hired me was ex-Imperial. He has a small group of troopers with him on Nevarro. I don't know what he wanted with the kid, but I couldn't let it happen."

Tajana fidgeted with her gloves. "You...you worked for the Empire?"

Mando's heart skipped a beat. Stars, she had every reason to hate them. Now to find out he actually took a job for them...

"No!" The bounty hunter shouted defensively, and a little too forcefully at that. "Well, yes...but the Empire isn't around anymore. To me, the job was a job. I don't side with them, not at all."

He stood awkwardly and stiffly in place while Tajana looked up at him, her golden eyes staring deep into his visor warily. What he wouldn't give to see the lower half of her expression right now. Was she frowning? Was she angry or upset? Her eyes always showcased so much raw emotion to make up for what part of her remained covered and unseen. This time, all he could make out was a flicker of distrust brewing deep in her honey tinted stare.

"I'm not proud of accepting a job from an Imp," he said while breaking eye contact with the girl. "But it got me the kid, therefore I have no regrets."

Tajana continued to glare hard at his beskar helmet, her eyes softening some when she realized just how much the battle hardened hunter in front of her cared for his son. "I supposed neither he nor I would be standing here had you not done what you did."

Mando's head shot up to look in her direction. Again, he found himself desperately wanting to see her face, to know what she was thinking and be able to read her puzzling, obscured expression. His mind flashed to the bits of tanned skin he mistakingly caught a glimpse of while she slept on his cot several days prior. It felt like a sin to see such simple parts of her face. He had only looked for a second. Stars, he couldn't remember what exactly he had seen even if he wanted to. Mando wasn't used to being the one who wasn't allowed to see another beings face; is this what it felt like for everyone else around him?

"I'm setting a course for Tattooine," she spoke up suddenly, breaking his concentration rooted deep in his thoughts. Her voice was hardened and serious. Whatever moment they had building up was over. When Mando didn't argue, Tajana started to make her way into the cockpit where she took her spot in his seat.

_________

The Crest touched down in an empty hangar located in Mos Espa. Once Tajana fed The Child what last remaining bits of food they had left besides protein bars at this point, Mando collected the foundling and placed him in the cloth crossbody bag to be carried around with them on Tattooine. They emerged from the ship, the dry desert air hitting the exposed portions of Tajana's skin, leaving a soft burning sensation in its wake. The suns beat down overhead, reflecting off the metallic shine of both the Crest and the Mandalorian.

"This is where you grew up, isn't it?" Mando asked the shorter woman walking alongside him.

"Yes," she answered simply. "I haven't been back here since mom passed."

"Why'd you want to come back here of all places?" He asked.

Tajana shrugged. "It's...been on my mind a lot lately..."

The Mandalorian, pilot, and child traveled down the relatively busy streets of the marketplace. Loud chattering erupted from the multicultural and diverse crowds consisting of different species, all looking to find the best deals for whatever it is they were shopping for. Tajana started to take a few bigger steps ahead of the Mandalorian when a stand advertising medical supplies came into view. A sharp tug on her wrist made her fall back into place by her employer's side.

"Stay close to me," Mando warned.

"Why?" Tajana asked, a bit of worry laced in her voice. Her eyes scoured everyone congregated around them, looking for anything that seemed out of place.

"I don't want a repeat of Corellia," he explained.

Tajana scoffed and her body language relaxed. "You worry too much. We'll be fine."

They approached a beat up, wooden stand run by a Kubaz. Mando immediately placed a few credits on the countertop.

"Bacta, in any form you have it, please," the hunter requested the shopkeeper. Tajana raised an eyebrow in confusion following a few high pitched squeals and vague hand gestures that were directed to Mando, who sighed audibly and place another handful of credits in front of the Kubaz.

"Don't waste what we barely have," Tajana remarked.

"We need all this, don't we?" Mando answered sharply. He collected the few patches and cans that the Kubaz happily handed over to the pair in exchange for the rather generous looking sum of currency. "Besides," Mando continued, "one of these is coming out of your paycheck." Tajana shot him a surprised look. "You always said I had to waste one on you because of Calican," Mando deadpanned.

"And I had to waste the last of it on you from your run in with Xi'an," Tajana grumbled.

Mando scoffed and shoved the bacta in one of his side pockets. "I guess we're even then."

_________

Mando stood off to his pilot's side ever so slightly, alternating between cautiously watching passer-byers and keeping an eye on his crew member, all while she sorted through a small basket of horned melon. The ripe, sweet, fruit was a bit of an expensive delicacy, but Tajana wanted to purchase just one to bring back to The Child.

"Do you like these?" Tajana called out to Mando. He turned his attention her way, glancing glancing at the plump, spiked yellow-orange fruit she held out in her hand.

"I don't know," he replied.

"You've never had one before?"

Mando looked at her again for a second without verbally replying, then glanced over once more at the people walking by. Tajana toyed with the melon before placing it in her basket of other groceries. "What foods do you like?"

Mando sent another perplexed look her way. Although his helmet completely hid his expression, Tajana could still feel the confusion radiating from out underneath his beskar. She felt rather silly, asking a deadly bounty hunter what he enjoyed eating.

"I don't know. I never cared about what I ate before."

She picked up on his use of past tense. "Before?"

Mando shrugged and looked off back towards the crowd. "I never had time to enjoy meals. But, I guess I like...soup."

Tajana's hand fumbled slightly when she handed the store owner the payment for their food. A warm sensation swept across her cheeks underneath her scarf, and it wasn't because of the intensity of the suns or the environmental heat.

_________

"Looks like we'll have to hold off on buying new parts for the Crest," Tajana groaned loudly. Their lack of funds was quickly growing troublesome and it seemed there was no end to their financial struggles. With a hefty sum of their combined credits going towards refueling the Crest, paying for the hangar, and also for supplies, Mando kept an eye out for the closest cantina to ask around for work. They approached a rather large establishment and accompanied a circular booth in the farthest corner from the entrance. Many onlookers stole a few prolonged states at the Mandalorian and his accomplice who also hid her identity. Tajana shifted uncomfortably her seat at the unwanted attention.

"What can I get you?" An older woman asked when she approached the tense guests at the table.

"Nothing for me," Mando answered. "Bone broth for the kid, please."

"And a water for me, please," Tajana interjected.

Mando's helmet shifted from the server who was walking away, to his partner seated across from him. He had never seen her eat or drink before in public.

Tajana huffed and rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that, Mando. I'm not a droid, I have needs too you know."

The Mandalorian had grown accustomed to withholding himself from food and water when he was in public, even if his body demanded it. He had gotten rather used to the constant gnawing hunger and cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he learned to ignore the dry, patchy feeling in his throat that came forth every so often. The woman seated next to him was slowly chipping away at his resolve; he found his body would crave the meals she made or the drinks she brought him periodically. Mando's stomach seemed to growl even louder now most days. The occasional scratch in his throat would escalate to a parched, sandpaper sensation that was hard to ignore. He knew she had to have felt the same way at times. She hid herself the same way he did when it was finally time for her to give into her need to eat or drink. Granted, she still seemed to be able to reveal herself when she chose, such as in front of The Child, something Mando would never do. Her own code was not as strict as his, yet it was still perplexing that she was willing to bend her own set of rules now.

The waitress set the cup of steaming broth down in front of the ecstatic child who began to pout when Mando safely pushed it out of the infant's reach while it cooled down.

"Don't touch it yet," Mando warned sternly, gently pushing The Child's little green claws back down underneath the table. Tajana smiled and grabbed her glass the waitress had set down in on the table. She turned her head far off to the side, facing the empty corner of the cantina. Parting the thick layers of her scarf slightly, she brought the cup to her lips to discretely take a sip. Mando couldn't help but watch her closely. He felt odd seeing her drink in such a secretive manner, almost as if he was disappointed she actually didn't decide do so out in the open after all.

"Watch the kid for a minute," he said in an attempt to bring his mind back to why they were in the cantina to begin with. "I'll be right back."

The Mandalorian stood up and slipped out from behind the table. The room fell just a bit more silent when Mando weaved in and out of the tables to approach the droid manning the customers seated at the counter.

Tajana watched how the clusters of patrons that Mando passed by, tended to either cower in their seats some or cease their conversations when the hunter passed them by. Maybe it's because she has been traveling with him for a bit now, but she found it rather amusing how quick everyone was to assume that Mando was a ruthless warrior with a short fuse. She smiled softly to herself at the thought of how he tended to The Child and always made sure he was safe and properly cared for. A small giggle almost fell past her lips when she remembered how witty and sarcastic his dry sense of humor could be when it decided to show through his cold, metal exterior. Yet, Tajana couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness when she realized no one know what he was really like, including herself. She knew Mando for a few weeks now, yet he still felt like a stranger at times. Tajana could now start to admit she felt safe around him, but sometimes, he was terrifying. He was still a force not to be reckoned with, and be still held many secrets underneath the weight of all that armor. He was a grown man that no one knew much about. She wasn't even sure he knew much about himself. Stars, the man doesn't even appear to know his own likes or dislikes.

"There's a bounty I need to collect over in Bestine," Mando's deep voice broke through suddenly in front of Tajana. "Are you familiar with that city?" He asked the startled woman.

Tajana cleared her throat and tried to play off her being caught off guard. "Not really. I didn't live there nor have I been at all, actually. From what I've heard, it's a relatively safe area."

"I see," Mando noted. He passed The Child the cooled off bone broth, watching silently as the infant happily brought the bowl to his lips and drank the cloudy liquid.

Tahana watched The Child carefully as well. She was about to turn to drink once more from her own cup when a nearby conversation captured her full attention.

"...she's been missing a few days now. No telling what happened to her," a man's voice said defeatedly.

"Don't talk like that," his comrade interrupted angrily. "We'll find her. I know she's okay, I can feel it. Anchorhead isn't that far from here."

Tajana slowly set her cup back down on the stained wooden tabletop. Mando directed his attention from the kid to her, noticing the worry etched upon the top half of her facial features and swimming all throughout her golden orbs.

"It's not polite to eavesdrop," he commented.

She shushed him and waved her hand dismissively. When she turned around to address the men behind her, they had already vanished.

"Did you see where they went?" She eagerly asked the Mandalorian.

"No. We already have a job to do and then we need to get out of here quick," he said resolutely.

Tajana ignored him and kept looking around at the other patrons of the cantina, frantically looking for anyone the voices could’ve belonged too.

Mando sighed and reached out to calm her down. "Hey," his soft but firm baritone filtered through the modulator, "we'll do some digging around Anchorhead once we're finished collecting the bounty, okay? But we can't stay long."

Tajana relaxed some and turned her attention to the hunter. She could feel his gaze that was penetrating through the jet black visor and focused on her. All she did was nod in response.

He wanted to ask her why she cared so much about one random missing person, why she seemed so disgruntled from the men's discussion that didn't involve her. His gut instinct told him there was no point in asking, that she would shut down and give him no answer. With the way she was acting, how distraught she seemed, it was something deeper than she was unwilling to talk about unless it was on her own terms.

The Child lifted some of the intensity of the heaviness that formed at the table when he cooed loudly to voice his content from the broth meal. The full little foundling reached up to set the empty bowl down on the table. Tajana smiled sadly and began to wipe his face while Mando pulled a few more credits from his coin bag and set them on the table.

_________

When they made it to the Crest, Mando immediately set a navigation course for Bestine and began to pack for his new search for the quarry.

"I think it's best you stay here," Mando instructed the younger woman. "This won't take long. Look after the kid for a few hours and try to get some sleep. When I get back, we'll both head into Anchorhead to see if we can find any information about a missing person."

He grabbed his Ambian rifle and secured it across his back. Tajana sat on the cot, staring absent mindedly ahead at the wall while repetitively rocking the kid back and forth in an attempt to lull him to sleep. His giant eyes were too busy watching Mando prepare to set out for another job.

"Tajana," Mando broke the girl's fixation on nothing, "I'll be back soon. I'll do my best to hurry."

She nodded wordlessly and watched the Mandalorian gently pat his son's head goodbye before lowering the ramp to the gunship and hurrying off towards Bestine.

_________

"Stop! You can't do this to me! Please, no!"

Tajana's muscles twitched in her sleep at the recollection of her being dragged into the middle of a campsite in the middle of nowhere. She was thrown face first into the powdery sand dunes while a few men watched and laughed as she struggled to stand her ground.

"I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

One of the men brandished a large vibroblade. Stepping closer to the panicked young girl, his amusement turned to anger when she tried desperately to fight back.

"Please, stop it!"

The sudden memory of sharp pain erupting across the bridge of Tajana's nose, violently ripped her from her deep sleep. She shot up from the cot, her body twisted and entangled in the thin blanket she covered herself with. Her breathing was erratic and her tanned skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat. A few soft whimpers escaped her lips as she disorientedly felt around the closed in walls of Mando's sleeping quarters, desperately looking for the switch to slide the door open. Her trembling fingers found the switch they needed and the door shot back, the faint orange glow of the lower level of the Crest flooding her vision. The Child that was sleeping peacefully besides her prior to her night terror, was now curiously looking at his caretaker, his wrinkly green brow creased even more with lines of worry and confusion. The infant babbled mindlessly and held one small clawed hand out towards Tajana. She tried her best to steady her shaky hands and erratic breathing when she reached for The Child.

"Sorry little one," she exhaled slowly, trying to put a brave face on for the panicked infant. "It was just a bad dream."

The Child didn't seem to buy her lie that she was fine. He continue to watch her carefully, making sad cooing noises every now and then, his big black eyes staring deep into hers as if he were trying to understand what she was really thinking. Tajana's guilt began to fester the more she laid in bed under the surveillance of The Child. She picked him up and held him close to her face to maintain strong eye contact with him so he could fully understand what she was about to say.

"I have to go," she spoke slowly and sternly. "I know Mando said to wait, but I can't. I have to find the girl that went missing, and you need to stay here and be good until I get back, okay? I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I have to leave you, but please, please just stay here. I'll be back. I promise."

The Child sucked in his little lips in a deep frown. Tajana pulled down her scarf, revealing herself to the foundling. He looked over her entire face sadly and reached out to cup her cheek gently with one of his delicate hands.

"I have to do this," she whispered. "I can't let anything happen to her, not when I know what's out there."

The infant made a few melancholy sounding babbles but then remained silent as he watched her dress herself quickly and equip her weaponry. Tajana hugged The Child tightly and apologized one last time before she laid him down on the Mandlaorian's cot, tucked him tightly, and slid the door closed behind her.

_________

"I have credits! Lots and lots of credits. H-hey you know, I can get you a great deal on a better ship. I mean, not that your ship isn't...nice b-but who doesn't want the latest model am I right? W-wait, just hear me out. No, I can help you j-just wait! WAI-"

Mando slammed the quarry face first into the cryogenic chamber. Stars, the complete silence that followed was a blessing from the Maker themselves. In this instance, Mando was strongly considering the option of bringing the bounty in cold, even if it meant docking some of his payment. Mando sat down across from the chamber, breathing in and releasing a heavy sigh. His legs were sore from the constant keeping up he had to with the evasive target. There was no element of surprise with this one; the quarry knew Mando was on the hunt for him. It was like trying to catch an annoying, slippery bar of soap in leather gloved hands. He put up a tiny bit of a fight, slicing the Mandalorian in between some of the vulnerable, exposed area between the beskar armor. It wasn't a deep laceration. The bleeding had mostly stopped on its own, but the more strenuous movements Mando made, the more he could feel the wound on his back stretch out and reopen. The constant stinging sensation further irritated the bounty hunter, making him wish he really did put a blaster hole in the quarry's head on their way back to the Crest. He chuckled in amusement to himself when he thought back to to small argument he and Tajana shared in Mos Eisley regarding their dwindling supply of Bacta. She wouldn't let him live it down that he went and got himself injured again during such a simple hunt.

At first, the sound of nothing was well received by the worn out hunter. The much desired silence soon became a little too much for comfort. Mando cocked his head to the side in an attempt to hear any creaks or clattering around that would tell him just where his absent pilot was. There was nothing; no footsteps, no humming The Child to sleep, no nonsense speech coming from the kid...just unnerving silence.

A wave of panic crashed over the Mandalorian. He brought himself up to his aching legs, the wound in his side protesting from the sudden, erratic movement of his muscles that were already screaming from fatigue. As much as he wanted to call out for the kid or Tajana, he kept his mouth shut and his blaster drawn. With all the commotion that he and the quarry made, they must of known he was back. Mando crept along the upper floor of the Crest, treading lightly and doing his best not to alert any possible threats to his presence with the sound of creaky, metal footsteps. There was no one in the cockpit, no one in the lower level of the gunship. Mando ripped back the door to the refresher to see it was empty as well. He couldn't help the increasingly intense thudding of his heart beating up against his chest plate as he all but tore the ship apart trying to find any sign of his missing crew member.

A faint knocking sound coming from inside of the sleeping compartment nearly stopped his erratic heart rhythm. Mando looked back to see if the knocking would repeat itself, or if it was all inside his anxious, over-stimulated mind. When the noise repeated itself, he jerked back the covering to reveal a distraught, whimpering child.

"Hey kid, hey it's fine," Mando whispered reassuringly to the troubled infant. He did his best to comfort his foundling, his soft words of consolation not doing much for either one of them. "Kid, where is she? Where did she go?" Mando asked a little firmer. The Child sniffled and tore away its large, watery eyes from Mando's helmet to the ramp. Raising one little three fingered hand, he gestured sadly towards the ship's exit. "Okay. Okay, good. We're going to get her back okay? We'll go together and we'll find her."

The rush of adrenaline was beginning to silence his body's aching protest to settle down for the night. With a shaking hand, Mando activated the ramp's lowering mechanism and stepped out of the ship, desperately following the path of footsteps that trailed off from the base of the Crest.

_________

Tajana spent hours asking around what felt like all of Anchorhead, desperately trying to find anyone who had any information on a possibly missing girl. Many civilians admitted they haven't heard anything of anyone being kidnapped, nor had they seen any suspicious activity as of lately. She was beginning to feel foolish for leaving The Child behind on the ship. Mando was going to be infuriated with her if he made it back before she did. If she came back empty-handed, it would make him even more upset that she risked The Child's safety for nothing. Maker, she was so selfish. What a stupid thing to do.

The streets were beginning to empty once the suns had complete gone down. The red, orange, and yellow hues from the beautiful Tattooine sunsets had dissolved into the black starry skyline, taking with it all sense of warmth and replacing it with a cool night time breeze. Tajana trudged along the dusty street pathways, bracing herself along the way for one hell of a chewing out from an angry Mandalorian father when she got back to the ship.

"Hey, you there," a soft female voice broke through the silence.

Tajana followed the direction of the voice to a small nearby storefront. Peeking behind a few storage crates, was a trembling and terrified young girl.

"P-please help me," she sobbed. "I just want to go home. They took me from my home."

Tajana's heart dropped when her golden eyes met the girl's glassy brown ones. Her face was covered in dirt and bruises, a bit of dried blood was caked on small cuts littering her feet and legs.

"Shit," Tajana gasped under her breath. She reached out to take the girl's hand and pulled her close. "You're going to be fine. I've got you, I promise. What's your name?"

"L-Lorelie," the girl stammered.

"Lorelie...that's a pretty name. Where are you from?" the raven haired woman asked softly.

"Mos E-Eisley," Lorelie stuttered.

Tajana nodded and smiled. "Okay, that's not too far from here. Now let's go. I'll get you home soon."

She glanced around once more to make sure they weren't being followed before maintaining a stead pace back towards the ship. After a few minutes of walking, Lorelie pulled back on Tajana's hand.

"W-wait. Wait," she cried out. "I...I can't."

Tajana turned and stooped to the distraught girl's level.

"What do you mean you can't?" She asked.

Lorelie's lower lip trembled and her eyes began to water. "I-I'm sorry. They said they would let me g-go."

Tajana shook her head and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "I thought you said they took you? What do you mean they'd let you go?"

A few tears rolled down Lorelie's cheeks and left soft indentations in the sand below. "I'm so s-sorry. If I brought you...they'd let me go."

The pilot opened her mouth to speak but silenced herself when she heard the soft crunching of sand beneath boots behind her. She whipped her head to the side and she placed one hand on her blaster. A loud smack echoed off the nearby stone and clay buildings, and a few droplets of blood splattered across the walkway when the solid butt of a blaster rifle collided with Tajana's temple. Her blaster slid across the desert floor, and her body collapsed at the feet of three tall shrouded figures.

_________

Mando followed the familiar, small set of footsteps all the way from Bestine to Anchorhead. He watched how they traveled from shopping strip to cantina, stopping along the way to converse with everyone who was willing to take time to talk with her as well. They continued to pace up and down the street, even as other people made their leave and headed inside for the night. What caught Mando's attention though, was a second, smaller set of foot prints that started to trail behind Tajana's. They stopped behind a row of supply crates, right where it appeared Tajana approached the stranger. The trail didn't go far however, for they stopped several feet away, and were then joined by three other people. Then, five sets of prints turned into four, with Tajana's being the absent set.

Mando deactivated his tracking setting in his visor. He stooped down to glance at dried crimson splatters in the sand that just barely caught his attention underneath the faint glow of a nearby street light.

"Dank farrik," he cursed to himself, pounding his fist into the sand. "I told you to wait for me."

_________

Tajana groaned in discomfort when the overly bright glow of a small fire in the center of a cramped hut flooded her blurry vision.

"It's about time you woke up," a recognizable male's voice called out beside her. Tajana blinked heavily several times, trying hard to focus her eyesight on her attacker.

"Darro," she acknowledged through gritted teeth.

The familiar man smiled down condescendingly at the raven haired woman. Her wrists were bound together tightly behind her back, and all her weapons had been removed and cast off to the side.

"I heard you were lingering around these parts before you even came back to Mos Espa. Traveling with a Mandalorian now, are we? News traveled rather fast regarding the assassin you two went after several weeks ago. You were long gone by the time I heard about it. But then, as luck would have it, you decided to come back to your hometown. I figured you would’ve been smart enough to stay away, but I guess not. I suppose it doesn't help that your current partner only draws more attention to you."

Tajana stared up angrily at him. She broke eye contact with him momentarily to glance around the room and noticed Lorelie cowering off in the corner behind him, along with another man who stood guard by the front entrance.

"It looks like you haven't changed your ways one bit after all these years. Did you take her from her home too?" Tajana spat, nodding in the direction of the terrified girl.

Darro shrugged. "Only after I heard you were in town. I knew you would fall for the whole kidnapping set up," name walked over slowly to Tajana. He hooked one finger in the loop of her scarf, pulling the dirtied fabric down over her shoulders. "I knew if had my guys follow you around Mos Espa and let slip the tiniest bit of information for you to hear, you'd want to come running to the rescue of another slave in need. You forget I know all about how your mind works. It seems like you haven't changed any after all this time, either."

The golden eyed woman lowered her head in disgust, hiding her face underneath her long curtain of hair. "I guess it doesn't surprise me that you would’ve tried to follow in daddy's footsteps, huh? Trying to act like some big, bad, rebel fighter. You always tried to so hard to help free the others, and yourself."

"You could’ve made me a wealthy man, you know. I didn't want to butcher that pretty little face of yours, but you didn't give me any other choice. I needed to make it so no one else would want you, so you would stop running away from me. Even then, you became too much for me to want to deal with. You always were so annoyingly stubborn and incredibly hard headed. I didn't want to put you down like your daddy was by the Imps, so I figured I would try to get some pocket change off you by selling you to the moisture farmers. Of course, you had to go and ruin that too by running away. You could’ve had a good life on Arvala, working on the farms and what not. You, on the other hand..." he clicked his tongue in a condescending manner and raised his blaster to rest against the throbbing side of her head, "you always gotta bite the hand that feeds, don't you?"

A sudden yell and sounds of blaster fire made everyone in the room turn to face the wooden doorway. The eerie silence that followed the violent commotion outside would’ve been overbearing if Tajana didn't have an idea of who was on the opposite side of the door. Her heart beat erratically in her chest out of relief when she realized there was only one person it could’ve been.

The wooden door swung wide open, nearly ripped off its hinges when one of the hooded men from Anchorhead smashed through from the outside. Darro clenched his jaw when he looked down at his fallen companion. His eyes trailed upwards to the doorway and caught the reflection of the firepit’s flames dancing across a set of unblemished, beskar armor.

"So it is true," he marveled sarcastically. "You really are fucking around with a Mandalorian." He waved the blaster theatrically in the air. "Let me ask you something, Mando. How much you pay for her, huh? What do you get out of her? What does she do for you?"

Mando stood silently, his anger bubbling beneath his beskar where it was still contained beneath his armor, threatening to spill out at any second. Darro cocked his head to the side, slowly walking up to the rigid bounty hunter. "No answer, huh? Take it she doesn't do much then. Well, let me try this. How much would you be willing to pay for her?"

Still no answer.

"She killed my men when she escaped the last time," name said, raising his voice significantly. "Someone has to pay for those damages, Mandalorian. Either I take it out on you, or I take it out on her."

When Mando failed to deliver a response, Darro hoisted Tajana off the ground roughly. Her long waves parted around her exposed face, causing Mando to direct his attention down to his feet instinctively.

Darro let out a loud, perplexed chuckle. "What does she even mean to you? Have you not seen her face? Did she tell you I'm the reason why she hides it from others?" He bragged. "Do you even know her real name, or just the name the people of Tattooine gave to her?"

Much to Darro's irritation, the bounty hunter still refused to reply. "This is proving to be a waste of my time. I can sell that beskar of yours for more than what she's worth." He looked past Mando and jerked his head to the side. The second man from the ambush in Anchorhead fastened his arms tight around the Mandalorian, sending Mando to his knees with the man's arm tight around his neck. Mando fired his flamethrower behind him, causing his attacker to release his hold on the bounty hunter. He released one of his whistling birds, which struck the man dead on and sent him falling to the ground. Tajana seized the opportunity to kick Darro's legs out from underneath him. He fell hard on top of her and scrambled to reach for his rifle that landed besides them. Mando quickly reached into his boot, unsheathing a vibroblade which he threw into Darro's hand. He screamed out in pain but was silenced when Tajana flung her tied wrists around his neck and pulled him close against her back. He fought hard against her once his airway had begun to be cut off; ripping the blade from his hand, he raised it to strike Tajana, but Mando successfully fired a round from his blaster, knocking the weapon out of Darro's hand. Lorelie rose from behind the table which she hid and scampered towards the door. With no one left to stop her, she took her chance at finally escaping.

"Just...let...her go," Tajana breathed out heavily to Mando when he stood up to chase after her.

Darro's kicks against the dirt ground and swats against Tajana's face and arms began to slow. She pulled the binders tighter and tighter against her until his resistance had stopped completely. When he stilled, she panted hard from exhaustion and threw his body from underneath her bound wrists. She turned her back towards the Mandalorian who was still averting his gaze from the exposed portion of her face. When he saw she was safely hidden from his view, Mando began looking around the room until he caught sight of what he was looking for through his narrowed visor. He took the dirt covered scarf and patted the dust and sand particles from out of the cotton fibers the best he could. Mando kept his head down low and pointed away from Tajana while passing her back the dirtied cloth.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely, taking the scarf and lazily wrapping it around herself. She was waiting for him to yell at her, waiting for him to tell her how irresponsible she was for leaving The Child behind and disobeying his orders. But nothing came through the other end of the modulator. No deep rumbling baritone told her how foolish she was or how she causes the Mandalorian nothing but trouble. There was nothing but his typical, complete silence.

Mando sorted through the mess of the hideout and found Tajana's daggers and blaster that had been put off to the side. He collected his own vibroblade and wiped the light coating of blood from the tip before using it to pick the lock on the raven haired woman's cuffs. They dropped to the ground with a heavy thump, and Mando extended one leather gloved hand out to pull his pilot to her feet. She hesitatingly accepted, and was completely caught off guard when he turned his back to her as she rose, then hooked his arms under the back of her legs to carry her against him in a piggyback fashion. Her breath caught in her throat when she hit up against him; he was so sturdy it was like being slammed into a broad beskar wall. A little grunt came from the oversized bag hanging from the hunter's side when her foot accidentally and not so lightly bumped into The Child.

"I-I can walk just fine, Mando," she nearly wheezed against the side of his helmet.

"We'll get back to the ship faster this way," Mando said curtly. Tajana flinched and ducked her head down against his shoulder when she noticed the subtle sharp edge to his voice.

Although it took her several minutes to gather the courage to speak and she was sure it was the last thing he wanted to hear right now, she finally managed to gather the courage to apologize to the intimidating man.

"I'm sorry, Mando."

The hunter kept his steady pace back to the Crest. "I told you to wait on the ship, Tajana," his voice said surprisingly delicately near her ear. The tiny spark of anger she noticed seconds ago, had completely disappeared. It was replaced with what almost sounded like...worry.

The golden eyed girl rested the side of her cheek against the small bit of unprotected space between Mando's neck and his pauldron.

"Aurelia," she said timidly. Mando took an extra step out of his ongoing rhythm. He turned his head closer to her to make sure she was actually speaking to him, or if it were a trick of his mind and she hadn't said anything at all.

"M-my name's Aurelia," she repeated almost inaudibly.

Mando blinked in surprise underneath the cover of his helmet. He continued his rhythmic march back to the Crest with the woman and child both clinging tightly to him. Just before the exhausted girl on his back closed her heavy eyes, she could’ve sworn to the Maker that she heard the Mandalorian repeat her name quietly to himself.

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Saturday, 12th October 2019 – Leicester

I realise Leicester may not be your obvious first choice when considering where to go in the UK, but bear with me. Actually if you try to get any tourist information in advance, you could be forgiven for thinking Leicester’s tourist information office don’t think it is either, between listings for museums that “closed for renovation in 2015” and listings for museums that don’t mention any opening times whatsoever, their website seems designed to put you off visiting rather than encouraging you to do so. We were going because we had plans to meet up with a friend we haven’t seen for a couple of decades who happens to live in one of the outlying villages, but it was also a good excuse to finally get to the Richard III centre that opened in the wake of the discovery of the king’s remains under a council car park close to the cathedral in 2015.

We booked a night’s stay at the Holiday Inn and set off on the very short drive (less than an hour) to get there. We fought our way through the one way system and parked in the hotel car park before heading off to meet Angie for lunch. She was slightly late but only slightly and so we dropped into the World Peace Café for a bite to eat. I would very much recommend them if you find yourself in the old part of Leicester – and order their falafel in some form or another, because they are excellent, moist, tasty with a sweet chilli punch to them. Their cakes are pretty damn good too. It’s also just behind the cathedral and therefore most convenient for getting to the things you may want to see.

After lunch, Angie had to return home, and so we headed to the Cathedral first, armed with a £2 “Ricardian” walking tour booklet from the Tourist Information Office and a plan to see as much as we could manage in the time we had available. There was a “suggested donation” of £2 which we handed over, not feeling we had a lot of choice down to the way they’d placed the donation box and 2 members of the cathedral’s staff who were between us and the door. It turned out that this was because there was a special event going on in the main body of the church. They also handed us a voucher for £5 off entry to the Richard III Visitor Centre, but we’d already bought our tickets… The event we’d just paid for was an installation of Luke Jerram’s work, “Museum of the Moon” to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing.

Once you could get past the crowd around the moon, it was possible to look into the corners of the building and to get to the tom of Richard III, which was of course what had brought us to town. The church was begun around 900 years ago, and rebuilt and expanded between the 13th and 15th Centuries when it became strongly associated with the merchants and guilds (the Guildhall is just feet away). 100 years ago it was restored and in part rebuilt by the architect, Raphael Brandon, who was responsible for the addition of the 220 foot tall spire, which proved very useful to us as a navigation tool! When the Diocese of Leicester was re-established in 1927, having ceased to exist in 870, the church of Saint Martin became Leicester Cathedral.

Of course the key part of the visit for us was seeing Richard III’s tomb. On 24th August 2012 the dig, by the University of Leicester Archaeological Services (ULAS) working in partnership with Philippa Langley of the Richard III Society, was launched and the following day a leg bone was discovered in the first trench they opened! A handful of days later, on 5th September, the complete skeleton was uncovered and removed. The circumstantial evidence was all pointing towards it being the remains of Richard III. By early February of 2013 the belief was now fact and the University announced that, following extensive scientific tests, it could confirm that the remains were indeed Richard’s. In considering the method of re-interment, the cathedral took into account the views of the scientific community, the heritage groups, the Richard III Society and the Church of England. In March 2015, after some legal wrangling, with some of us really not keen on Leicester being his final resting place, the cathedral got its way and the re-interment took place on 26th March.

Richard’s remains were placed in a lead ossuary, and then inside a coffin made from English oak, which was then placed in a brick lined vault below the floor of the Cathedral, the whole sealed with the incredibly stark tombstone. The tomb itself sits within an ambulatory between the new Chapel of Christ the King and the sanctuary under the tower, which is a deliberate echo of his original burial place in the chancel of the Grey Friars. The tomb is intended to reflect key Christian themes as well as the story of Richard’s life, with a deep cut in the stone that enables light to flood through it, symbolising that death is not the end. Appropriately the stone used is a Swaledale fossil stone, quarried in North Yorkshire.

We also spent some time on the display off to one side, which explored the theme of reconciliation, and included an exhibition by the Bogside Artists from Northern Ireland, showing photos of the murals there that tell the story of sectarian violence and what comes after. It seemed like a timely reminder of the importance of the Good Friday Agreement, especially to anyone who grew up during the period when the IRA started bombing the mainland.

Outside in the gardens we stopped to admire the bronze statue of King Richard III, commissioned by the Richard III Society in 1980. The statue, by James Walter Butler, was unveiled on 31st July 1980 by Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester.

A sculpture entitled “Towards Stillness” by Dallas Pierce Quintero can also be found in the gardens. It is an installation representing a timeline of the King’s life, especially commissioned for the occasion of his re-interment, is oriented towards Bosworth Field and evokes the terrain of the battlefield. The gardens are pleasant and on a warmer day we might have sat for a while in the sun.

Instead we sidestepped into the Guildhall for a relatively swift look round. There had been some sort of event that appeared to be about taxidermy going on, so there were tables and chairs in odd places, somewhat marring the look of the place as they were very modern. However, we coped. The hall is the oldest building still in active use in the city and was built around 1390 as a meeting place for the Guild of Corpus Christi. By 1563, the building had become Leicester’s Town Hall and the ground floor of the West Wing was known as the Mayor’s Parlour.

After narrowly escaping demolition in 1876, the building was completely restored and opened to the public in 1926. There are those who claim Shakespeare performed there during Tudor times, but that may just be a myth – like the claims that the building is haunted. Whatever the uses it has been put to over the years, it has certainly been a police station, a jail, and a library before becoming a museum in 1926. Without a doubt it is one the best-preserved timber framed halls in the country, and it retains some very fine decorative features.

Next stop was the King Richard III Visitor Centre which sits next to the place where Richard III’s remains were found. The Centre tells the story of the King’s life and death, and takes you through the “one of the greatest archaeological detective stories ever told”. It didn’t tell the two of us anything that we didn’t already know, but that’s not the fault of the centre, that’s because it’s a subject we both know a lot about.

What we did appreciate was the opportunity to see the actual spot where the remains were found. And it was really nice when the woman up ahead of us who seemed to have been inoculated with a gramophone needle and was unable to shut up finally left the room and let us have some peace.

We stopped off in the café for tea and ice cream and then headed outside to see if we could locate the other sites in the brochure. The remains of Greyfriars was easy enough, although there’s not exactly much left. The 12th Century establishment was home to the Franciscan order, and following King Richard’s death at the Battle of Bosworth, his body was taken by the Franciscan friars to be given a simple burial in the choir of their church. Sadly all that remains of the Friary is a small piece of grey stone wall in a car park.

We walked towards the area called Newarke and the Magazine Gateway which dates from around 1410, and was the entrance to the religious foundation known as the Newarke. It’s known as the Magazine Gateway because it was used as a gunpowder and weapons store in the English Civil War. It is believed that Richard’s corpse was brought back through this gateway after Bosworth. The gateway is only open to the public on the last Sunday of each month from 11.00am – 3.00pm between February and November, which is limiting to say the least. It’s also blocked off behind loads of scaffolding on one side.

We didn’t find the Church of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, largely because it’s another one of the historic buildings that doesn’t actually exist any more. It’s underneath the Hawthorn Building of De Montfort University. The church and its college were founded in 1353 by Henry, 4th Earl of Leicester, 1st Duke of Lancaster. There is a tradition that King Richard’s body was put on public display there for three days after the battle to prove that the king was dead. The church was demolished in 1548 and just two arches survive in the basement of the building. Trinity Hospital does still exist though not in its original form, because the Hospital of the Honour of God and the Glorious Virgin and All Saints, founded in 1330 by Henry, 3rd Earl of Lancaster and Leicester, was rebuilt in 1776, The medieval stone chapel does still exist and is part of De Montfort University’s Trinity Building.

The map and the reality on the ground diverged somewhat at this stage, so we needed a couple of goes to locate the Turret Gateway. This gateway is believed to have been built in 1423 as one of two entrances to the enclosed Newarke area. It separated the Newarke religious precinct from Leicester Castle.

Luckily there are some excellent information boards at the various sites.

Through the gateway we found ourselves in the precincts of Leicester Castle. Richard certainly knew the castle, sending a letter from there on 18th August, 1483, that he signed: “from my castle of Leicester”. What you see today is a late 17th century brick entrance concealing a 12th Century structure. Edward I, Edward II and Henry IV all stayed there. It’s another monument that has very limited opening hours, these being the last Sunday of the month from 11:00 to 15:00 between February and November, so four hours each day on 10 Sundays a year! You can see more from the back where a park has been set out next to the River Soar.

It was damp and getting late now so we walked back to the hotel (it wasn’t easy – the Holiday Inn is pretty much parked on a massive traffic island with not enough crossings to it) and got cleaned up ready to go out for dinner. We’d missed the Blue Boar Inn where Richard spent his final night in Leicester before riding out to Bosworth. It’s now the Leicester Central Travelodge. We also missed Bow Bridge which was designed by the city as a memorial to King Richard III. We didn’t mind too much, given the damp!

Travel 2019 – Leicestershire Weekend, Day 1, Leicester Saturday, 12th October 2019 - Leicester I realise Leicester may not be your obvious first choice when considering where to go in the UK, but bear with me.

[fallen029]

A Dragon’s Love.5: Paternal

Previous Chapter

Orion spent the first few weeks after the trials doing nothing. He was rather depressed. Though no one actually came away with the S-Class title at the trials, it didn't make him feel any better. That meant that it had been fair game. And he'd missed it.

His mother could tell that he was down about his leg though and tried to spend a lot of time with him. Which, sure, he appreciated, but he was starting to get too old to hang out with her all the time. It just wasn't fun for him any longer.

Mirajane could tell too that he wasn't that interested in spend all day with her. Before he started taking jobs, they used to spend all of her off days together. Even when he had to train, he'd want her to go watch. Recently though, he didn't even want her around. Not at the guild, not at home. Elf told her that he was just becoming a man and to leave him be.

It was so hard though. It just made Mira so…sad. Since he was born, it had been the two of them. She almost felt like he was trying to ditch her too, just like Laxus.

Not that Mira wanted to, like, hold him back or anything. She knew that he had to become more dependant. He was getting older. Eventually, he would leave her. Even though she didn't like to think about it, he'd made it more than clear that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in Magnolia. He didn't even seem to like most of the people in the guild, really. Her years with him were numbered, she knew, and they were being wasted on him trying to prove himself to a man that would give up the world for him.

Sadness didn't even begin to explain what she was feeling.

Her son didn't notice, given he wasn't hanging around much anyways, but others did. Lisanna kept telling her that she just had to start doing things for herself again, but she didn't want to. Orion was her main focus and had been for years. To know that he was just blocking her out then didn't make her feel very good.

Someone else took notice too though that, honestly, she wanted to stay away from. And she had been. Very well, actually, the past few months. But as always, it only took one moment of weakness to wash that all away.

"What's up with you, Mira?"

"Hmmm?" She glanced up from the money she was counting out. "What, Master?"

Laxus just stood there though, frowning at her. "You've counted that same stack of jewels, like, five times."

"I just keep losing count," she said with a slight smile. "What? Are you watching me?"

He had been sitting off by himself, drinking a beer. The guild had already been closed up though and it was only the two of them. She thought that he was waiting for her to finish closing so that he could be alone, but apparently, he was just waiting to corner her.

"No," he said as he rested his palms against the bar. "I just… I know that we haven't been on good terms for awhile now-"

"What are you talking about? You're the Master and I'm the worker. What more could you want?"

"Demon."

"Well?"

"I was just talking to Ever or whatever and she said that, you know, you're feeling all down and shit," he said as he continued to stare across the bar at her. "I mean, even I noticed it, really. I just thought you were mad at me about something. But if something's wrong-"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Evergreen said it was about Orion-"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Mira-"

"It doesn't affect my work," she told him. "Therefore-"

"I'm not asking as your boss or your master or whatever." He gave her his best concerned look. She wasn't buying it. "I'm asking as your friend. Aren't we friends?"

"Laxus-"

"Has he done something? I mean, I can talk to him. He listens to me, I think. He thinks I'm the greatest thing ever."

"Yeah, I know. Just boosts your ego even more, doesn't it?"

"Mira, I'm not trying to make this about me. At all. I just know that you're feeling all down about Orion and-"

"I just miss him, alright?"

"Where is he?" Laxus frowned. 'I could have sworn I just saw him a few days-"

"I'm not saying that I haven't seen him, Laxus," she complained as, once more, she lost count of the money. With a sigh, she sat it down on the bar before looking up t him. "He just… I guess it's not cool to him anymore, to go places with me and do things together and-"

"Mira." Laxus frowned at her. "He's a boy. He's, what? Fifteen now? Of course that's not fun anymore. He's growing up. He-"

"I'm not stupid," she told him with a glare. "I know that. Just because I know why he's doing something though doesn't make me feel any worse about it."

"Why would you feel bad about it?" he asked. "Huh? There's nothing you can do. You should want him to grow up. It'll give you a chance to get your life back, anyhow. Surely there's something that you want to do, now that he's so busy."

"I don't really see how that involves you, at all."

For a moment, he just stared at her. Then, with a shake of his head, he pushed away from the bar.

"Alright, Mira," he said with a sigh. "You win. I won't care about how you're doing if you don't want me to. That's fine. Whatever. You think that you're the focus of my life? Hardly. Be miserable."

It would have been so easy too, to just let him walk out. Better too. For the both of them. But Mira, though she could be mad at him at anytime, never rightly liked the idea of him feeling the same way towards her.

"Laxus, wait," she called out, staring after him. He only glanced over his shoulder though. "Let's just… Do you want a drink? Here. Sit down and you can drink while I finish closing up. Will that be okay?"

He grunted. "My own damn hall, I drink when I want. Don't just sit around waiting for you to ask me for one."

"Laxus, please. I don't want to fight."

That got him to relax some as he turned around to look at her. "And you think that I do? Mirajane, you know how I feel about you. If it wasn't for the kid, demon, it'd still be me and you. You know that. It still is me and you. Just not openly."

For once, she didn't fight him on that. Only went to pour him his favorite drink and set it in front of a stool. Slowly, Laxus came to sit down, taking a drink first before looking at her.

"What?" he asked at the fact she wouldn't look at him again. "Mira? What did I-"

"Just me and you? Huh?"

"Well, sure. Me and you. It always-"

"That's funny, Lax, considering you're always out with those other women."

"Mira-"

"I'm just saying."

"And I'm just saying that I'm tired of talking about this. What? You want me to stop sleeping with other people?"

"I didn't say that."

"Would you like that?"

"Well, yeah, Laxus, I would."

"So that what? I can wait around for the one time a year, if that, that you and I are together? I'm not doing that, Mira."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"You brought it up!"

Shaking her head, she went back to counting out the money. "Why do you care then, Master?"

"Don't start with that."

"That's what you are. Master."

"That's not what I am and you know it. I love you, demon."

"You have a horrible way of showing it."

"You sleep with other people too, you know."

"Oh, yes, Laxus, all those lucrative relationships I've had over the years. Just so many men, in and out of the house that I share with my son. Let's see, um, none?"

"Just because you don't take them home doesn't mean you're not fucking them."

That got him a heavy glare then. "You know what, Laxus? Never mind. Let's just not talk."

"I didn't mean it like that," he groaned. "Honest."

"How else could you mean it? You said that I was-"

"I'm just…upset, alright? I don't like having these conversations."

"Oh? And what else could the two of us possibly talk about together? Huh? Since, apparently, having Orion ruined everything-"

"I never said that."

"You just did! Not less than a minute ago. You said if it wasn't for him-"

"Yeah, and if it wasn't, we would still be something, Mira. But he is here. And I ain't hated that fact for a damn second. I've watched over him too, alright? I'm the one that had Bickslow and Ever look out for him. Me. I did that. 'cause I care about him. And I care about you. I'm protecting you."

"I don't need your protection, Laxus! I never even wanted it. And I still don't. You just use that as an excuse to live selfish lifestyle where you just throw money and me and Orion to make yourself feel better as you go out and sleep with half the town."

It was his turn to give an icy glare, which he did then, staring her down from across the bar.

"I'm so sorry, Mira, that I give a damn about you."

"Oh, shut up."

For a minute or two, neither spoke. Mira finally got the money counted and went to put it away, leaving Laxus alone with his drink.

Why couldn't they ever just get along? For longer than five minutes?

"Hey, demon?" he called out while she was still off, putting the jewels away in the safe. "Can you hear me? I'm sorry, alright? And I…I'm just gonna go. I'll see you tomorrow or whatever. I know that I have to just start leaving you alone, but I can't, alright? Maybe things aren't working out, with you being around so much. I'll figure something out, okay? And not bother you as much? Just…have a good night, huh?"

When he didn't get a response, he only sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out some tip (extra) money for her. He was busy counting out a nice wad when she showed back up.

"You are not leaving me all of that."

"And why not?" He didn't look up at her. "Mirajane?"

"Because, Laxus, I don't want-"

"You're gonna take it. Get over it."

"Laxus-"

"Are you finished up here? Or what?" He glanced around. "You still don't have things to do, do you?"

"There's dishes to be washed, the floors need to be swept, and the bathroom-"

"Lisanna works tomorrow, huh? In the morning? Leave it for her."

"What? No. Laxus-"

"I'm walking you home. It's late." He gave her a look. "And that's an order. Get your coat. Don't leave the Master waiting, huh?"

She didn't want to, he could tell, but at the same time she needed to. Just glancing at a clock, he found it to be some time after midnight. He knew she was fine, of course, by herself, that she was safe, but still. Her being all alone in the guildhall that had been destroyed, oh, a billion times over the year by their enemies? No thanks. He'd gladly walk his demon home than have her in there when that happened.

"I haven't been to your house in a long time."

"You're not coming to my house," she told him simply. "You're just walking me home. Not coming in or anything like that."

With a frown, he glanced down at her. "Just for that, demon, I'm coming in."

"You are not."

"Gonna make myself all comfy on the couch. Put my feet up. Remember how it felt to have you wait on me there."

"Laxus-"

"The boy isn't even home," he pointed out. "And he won't be for a few days, huh? Where'd he go on his job?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "He hardly goes through me for them. I think he feels like I baby him or something."

"Well, he is your baby," he was quick to tell her. "And if he's being a little ass to you about it, I'll set him straight."

"And why, Laxus, would you do that? Huh?"

"Because I'm the Master." He flexed. "I can do anything I want."

When they got to her place, he could tell that she was apprehensive about letting him in, but Orion really wasn't around. And she honestly was dead tired. Fighting with him more wouldn't help alleviate that any.

"I'll go put on some tea and-"

"Don't do that, demon." Laxus went immediately to sit down on the couch, stretching out. "Just c'mere. I was real mean, yellin' at you before, huh? Let me-"

"We are not sleeping together." She said it just like that. Flat, as if bored with the idea as well as annoyed with it. "So if that's your endgame, you can get out right now."

"Mira, stop it with this resistance stuff, huh?" He shut his eyes. "If you didn't want to sleep together, you wouldn't have invited me in."

"I didn't invite you! And if you're going to be like this, just get out."

"I'm comfortable." He peeked an eye open. "And calm down. Just come sit with me. What? You think I'd screw you on this couch? I mean, if you're offering-"

"Laxus-"

"We won't do anything. Just come sit. He's not here, he's not going to know. So why are you fighting it so hard?"

"Because, Laxus, we can't keep doing this."

"Doing what? Huh? Being happy? Even if it's just for a little while?"

"Toying with this," she said with a frown. "You didn't want me and Orion and now you don't have us. So why-"

"Hey." He sat up then, opening both eyes as he glared at her. "I did want you. Both of you. But I couldn't have you. So I had to keep you-"

"We already did this once tonight. No more." Turning, she headed out of the room. "Lock up when you leave."

Great. He'd blown it. There was no point in following her then. And, with a groan, Laxus got to his feet to head out of the house.

Only he could manage that. Only him.

That was what Orion was feeling too, when he got back into town a few days later. Only him. Only he was the one that Laxus wanted. He knew it then. For certain. That the man saw something in him.

It had to be clear to everyone else by that point. In front of them all, Laxus had asked him.

"Hey, kid, you gonna mope around here all day? If not, you should come with us. You want to?"

Orion had been sitting up at the bar, listening to his mother tell him about all the things around the guildhall she needed his help with (his aunt had gone off on a job, which left a lot of work to be done), when the Master just came walking up to him. He had his big coat on and looked ready to head out to somewhere, Freed and Bickslow flanking him on either side. The seith gave Orion a thumbs up for some reason while Freed just glanced at Mirajane.

"Master Laxus is being rude," the other man said. "Mira was speaking, I believe. And she seems to be instructing him to-"

"You need someone to help you around the hall, you should have asked me," Laxus grumbled, glancing at the woman too. At first, she'd taken a moment to process what the guy was saying to her son, but she was starting to catch on. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. "I'll get you some help. Kinana and you do need someone else, I suppose, when Lisanna's not around. We're so busy these days. I'll get one of the lowly losers to help out, huh? And come on, Orion. If you're coming, I mean."

If? If? Was there even a need to add that? Really?

"O-Of course!" He popped right up. "Master. I-"

"Laxus," Mira hissed from across the bar, suspicion lacing her tone. "What are you doing? He's not going out with the three of you. You're grown men and he's just-"

"I'm sorry, do barmaids question the Master now and get away with it? Perhaps you've confused me with my grandfather."

"Laxus," Freed whispered under his breath. "Perhaps you have misjudged the situation-"

"Oy, kid." Bickslow hadn't read it well either. He didn't know that Laxus was doing it all just to get back at Mirajane. Not at all. He thought that the man was just going to spend some time with his boy. Sounded great to him. Going to toss an arm around the teen's shoulders, he said, "Your aunt's on a job, huh?"

Orion was too keyed in on his mother then to respond. Turning to look at her (and shove Bickslow off), he said, "What are you doing? Master just asked me to go somewhere with him. Why would you try and ruin that?"

"I'm not," she said, not glancing at the boy. "But you shouldn't be going out with-"

"You can't tell me what to do. If I want to go with the Master then-"

"Hey." Laxus popped him in the back of the head that time, making the boy glare over at him. It was one thing for Laxus to stand against Mira, but to hear their son act that way towards her ticked him off. "That's your mother. You think I outrank her with you then you've got another thing coming. Now apologize."

Mira could tell too, glancing at her son that he was embarrassed. Laxus had just called him out in front of the others. That was probably a thousand times worse than her trying to veto him going.

"Sorry," he mumbled to which Mira just glanced back at Laxus.

"Why would you want him to go anyways?" she asked, though she knew. Of course she knew. He wouldn't be doing it if she didn't at least have some inkling. She'd made a big deal out of him not wanting the boy and, well, now he was going to spend time with him and it was going to be great for both of them. Other than the fact that one knew he was the father of the other while the latter was left in the dark for no conceivable reason other than a curse that made little to no sense in the first place. Other than that, though, they would have a grand ol' time.

Sigh.

"Where are we going?" Orion got out as they left the guildhall finally. Laxus had assigned someone to help Mira out behind the bar before they walked out though. "Master?"

He just grunted and, well, Freed and Bickslow were so busy arguing them over whether or not the latter could actually scale a wall (the seith was insistent that he could, with no help whatsoever) that they didn't answer either. Not that Orion was, like, nervous or anything. So the man that he'd idolized since he was a child just decided to take him out for the day. What? Was he supposed to be, like, intimidated? Or fearful? Or something? Because he wasn't. It was meant to be. Clearly, Laxus had seen how mature he'd become and was finally taking him into his inner circle.

It was bound to happen eventually.

They went to the man's apartment after getting some takeout food which, since he was the low man on the totem pole, they made him carry.

"I used to have to carry it too," Bickslow sighed as he followed along. "They'd say that I was the least valuable person around. Ha! Jokes on them. My babies thing I'm the most important one."

"Important," they cried following along. "Papa."

At Laxus' place they headed into the living room where he already had a card table set out.

"Set the food down here, boy," Laxus grumbled as he slipped his coat off and tossed it onto the couch. "And Freed, go get some drinks, huh?"

"Of course, Laxus," the man said, rushing off to the kitchen to do so.

'Oy, boss," Bickslow complained as he claimed a seat. "Is Elfman not going to be coming around? Ever usually says that we gotta invite him to stuff."

"What do you think the boy's for?" the man grumbled, taking a seat. "He's our fourth now. Elfman can go rot somewhere for all I care."

Slowly, Orion moved to take a seat as well, still uncertain. Bickslow seemed more relaxed though, at the mention of Elfman not showing up, and even snickered.

"You should have asked me, boss," he told Laxus then. "If you wanted a fourth, I couldda got us one real easy."

"Your freaky friends? In my apartment? No thanks. Rather that never comes to fruition."

"Your loss."

"I'll eat it, believe me."

Freed was back then, with the beers, which he sat in front of each of the men. When he got to Orion though, he paused.

"Uh, I do not-"

"The demon let you drink?" Laxus asked as he took a sip from the already popped bottle cap (Freed thought of everything, constantly). "Kid?"

"N-No," Orion said with a shake of his head. "She says-"

"Well the demon ain't here." Laxus winked at him. "Just don't get tellin' on me, huh?"

"Only if you want," Freed was quick to say, as if as a precaution. "Because-"

"I want to," he said quickly. As if there was anything thought to it. Laxus Dreyar, his idol since, like, forever, had just offered him a beer. Of course he'd drink it! All of it. And, when after a sip he found that he hated it, it didn't matter. He'd be drinking it to the last drop. And anything else that was placed in front of him.

It was all great too, being with all those guys. He usually would be nervous, being around Laxus, but the alcohol put him as ease quickly and, well, it was hard to feel anything, but loose around Bickslow. The seith was just so goofy. And Laxus and Freed weren't so bad either. They didn't rebuke him when he didn't completely understand the rules to the card game and neither seemed too annoyed with teaching him. Mostly he just sat there and listened to them talk, trying his hardest not to seem childish or to be a bother.

The men talked about a plethora of things, ranging from their most recent jobs to different women in their lives. They seemed more content with their conversations than actually paying attention to the game at hand. Orion was just glad that he'd recently gone out on a job and had some jewels in his pocket to play with. It would have been completely mortifying if he hadn't.

Eventually, Laxus sent Freed off to get his box of cigars for him.

"You smoke, kid?"

"No," he told Laxus with a shake of his head, just watching as the man lit up. Was he going to…offer him one? Because then yes, Orion definitely did.

"Good." Laxus didn't even glance at him. "You ain't startin' on my account."

"Oy, boss," Bickslow muttered. "You got his hopes up."

"What?" That time, Orion got a glance. "You thought I was givin' you one of these?"

"N-No, I just-"

"Beer, I can explain away to Mirajane. Getting you hooked on these fancy cigars? Not likely."

Freed just bowed his head. "She does not like them, as it were."

"What do you mean?" Orion asked, glancing at the man. "People smoke in the guild all the time."

"Yes, but Laxus' cigars bother her for some-"

"Hey, Freed. Another beer, yeah?" Laxus grumbled, shooting him a glare. "Quickly."

"Me too," Bickslow said with a nod. "And the kid also, boss?"

He glanced at Orion again before shrugging. "One more won't hurt."

Oh, but it would. Orion, for someone who spent so much time around a bar, had never had so much alcohol in him before. And in such a short time span. He hardly could keep his wits about him. And the room was all smoky because, well, Laxus could never have just one cigar. It stunk too, but there was no way that Orion was going to make any complaints. He had to be one of the guys, after all. It might be his only chance.

And all because they didn't like his Uncle Elf. Huh. It was rather shocking, really, considering he did very much so. But hey, to each their own.

The night just drug on too. And, even though Laxus said he was only supposed to have one more, he let the boy try some whiskey too, when that was brought out, though that turned out to be a bad idea.

"You shouldn't have ever given him alcohol," Freed told Laxus after the boy lost nearly everything in his stomach in the bathroom, vomiting up dinner and liquor alike. When he was finished with that, he was so embarrassed that, well, he tried to leave, but Laxus and the other two guys forced him to sit on the couch for a bit and calm down. After that, Bickslow took off, not wanting to get put on puke duty, while Freed took to cleaning up. "You cannot take him home in this condition."

"I ain't takin' him home," Laxus grumbled, nodding over to where the boy was passed out on the couch in that short amount of time. "Demon would have my head. No. You're gonna go down to the hall, tell her that he's sleeping over here, and be done with it."

"Why though, Laxus?"

"Eh?"

"Why would he sleep over here?"

"Because I want him to. What more of a reason could she possibly need? Huh? Now hurry up and clean up." Laxus was heading off to the kitchen then, to get another beer. He'd need it. "Boy's got me all screwed up in the head."

After Freed left, Laxus sat around in the kitchen for awhile, to avoid messing with Orion. Now he'd gotten the kid sick. Great. Mira would never let him take him out again.

The whole point was to show her that yes, he could have been a father. He just wasn't allowed to have the chance, in an attempt to save her. Not to completely screw up and show her that it was a good thing he had never been a real father.

Sigh.

"Hey, kid," he found himself grumbling eventually as he went back into the living room. "Orion. You there, kid? Don't, like, die or something. Completely ruin my life."

Reaching down, he gently patted the boy on the shoulder, making the teen groan slightly.

"Sleepin'," he slurred against the couch pillow. "Stomach hurts."

"Alright, kid. You just try and not, like, die out here and I think we'll be good. Don't try and leave either. Not till mornin' when I think of some good excuse to tell your mother, huh?"

Orion mumbled something else before he conked out again. Which, honestly, was better than him throwing up. A lot better, actually.

Laxus started out of the room, but it wasn't to his own bedroom. No. It was to the kitchen to get a chair and drag it into the living room. With a groan, he sat it by the couch before hunching over to watch the boy.

It would be a long night.

He wondered, at times, during those next few hours, if that was how Mira felt since, oh, Orion had been born. All the times that she had to sit up with him when he was a baby or when he was sick as a child. Making sure that he was still breathing, that he didn't need anything. Probably a lot more than Laxus was doing, really, but he felt like the night was taking a lot out of him.

"You'd probably be dead by now too, kid," Laxus sighed, staring at the sleeping boy. "If Mira had…died. And left me with you. I had you one night and look; I got you drunk and sick and… It wouldn't have worked, you see? Mira had to live. Not just 'cause I love her or whatever. Because I love you. Get it? She had to be around to take care of you. There was no way that I could have. It just… I'm sorry, kid. There was no other way."

When the sun finally came up, Orion hated it with a vengeance. Laxus was going around the apartment, getting ready for the day as he only tried to fight off the pounding in his head.

It wouldn't go away.

"Where am I?" he groaned as he sat up slowly at one point, only to fall back down. "Mmmm."

"You're at my apartment, kid. Don't you remember?"

That sounded like Master, but it seemed very far away. It was actually just from the kitchen, where the slayer was eating breakfast.

No. He didn't remember that. Or anything. Just groaned some more.

"You came over with Bickslow and Freed and ended up getting a little bit too tipsy. Now you're hungover."

"I just wanna sleep."

"Yeah, well, I need to get you outta here and fast. Back over to your mother's. She's gonna flip if I don't. She's probably already worried. And if she comes over here, well-"

"Master?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talkin'. Please."

It took awhile to get the boy at least some what decent. And then Laxus walked him most of the way home, having to help him along. At the end of the boy's street though, he set him on his way. No need to have a blow up fight with the demon in front of him. No, they could save that for later. Hopefully much later. Like, say, never sounded good for him.

"What happened?" Mira asked the second the boy came stumbling through the backdoor. "Orion?"

She was at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee, and apparently waiting on him. Honestly, she'd expect Laxus to at least face her, but just seeing Orion was enough for her at the moment.

They'd already spoke though, he and Laxus, and, well, the boy knew his one line.

"Late night. With Master. Hung out. Gonna go to bed."

"Orion," she complained as he just disappeared into the house, making off to his bedroom where, after closing the blinds, he hoped to sleep for the rest of eternity.

Or at least until his hangover wore off.

Whichever came first.

And Laxus just sat up at the guild, knowing what was coming. The demon was going to kill him. She really was. And he couldn't even fight her on it. How could he? He'd gotten her son blackout drunk practically for no reason other than he was trying to prove a point to her…that kinda got extremely muddled along the way, but it had been a point, at one time or another.

When Mira did show up, she had quite a few words for him. A lot, actually. And he took them too, back there in his office, away from prying ears. She unleashed on him in as soft a voice as she could pull off, about that was quite the stunt he'd pulled and how irresponsible he was.

He decided not to bring up what age they all started drinking or that fact that he boy came and went as he pleased; Laxus might have been the first to get him that way, but he surely wouldn't be the last. He might not have been an adult, but she treated him like one. Sometimes that meant that bad things happened. It just came with the territory.

But he kept quiet on all that. Just let the demon vent. And when she was done, she didn't talk to him for a week. At least. He didn't try to start any conversations with her either. Just had to let her cool down, was all.

The next time that he went to head out with Freed and Bickslow again though, one weekend night when the guild was pretty much dead, he first went over to Orion, who was busy behind the counter, wiping down the bar and the bottles on the shelf behind it.

Mira, who was behind it as well, eyed Laxus suspiciously, but it was to the boy that he spoke.

"You busy here, boy?" he asked him. "Or can you go out with us?"

Orion about dropped the bottle he was polishing off. Then he looked to Mirajane.

"Can I?" he asked. When he found her dark gaze, he bowed his head. "I mean…I won't stay out all night this time. I promise."

Mirajane didn't want to. Laxus could tell. But, after she gave him a long stare, she just turned to go back to talking to her sister, who was in front of the bar, telling Orion all he needed to. The kid seemed so excited to be with them that Laxus was glad he'd risked it with the demon by asking.

Even if the first time was a disaster.

And that time, none of them drank (much to the displeasure of Bickslow, who cut out early because of it, grumbling about how he had better things to do anyways). Laxus didn't care though about how any of them felt.

It wasn't about Mira not trusting him or him not being there for Orion. It was about the fact that he'd screwed up the first time. And he wouldn't again.

He couldn't be a father, he knew that, but he could be a mentor to the kid. He was finally ready. And damn if he didn't want to be a good one.

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