#zerlu

“Zeref,” she whined, “please, don’t stop. So – so close.”

He didn’t want to stop, but a pause in the proceedings was needed, a reminder that was required of his gorgeous wanton girlfriend.

Zeref rubbed his cheek against Lucy’s sensitive inner thigh, licking his lips in delight as he silenced the whimper that was about to release from her pouting mouth with one finger pressed against her glossed lips.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to keep it down. My brother is home and we don’t want him walking in, do we?”

Lucy nipped at his finger, earning a soft growl from the depths of her boyfriend’s chest. He had half a mind to stop, to leave her a needy mess until she learned to behave herself, but she was his biggest weak spot and they both knew it.

Instead, he chose to bite her thigh.

“Behave,” he whispered.

Zeref’s obsidian eyes glittered with dark humour as his mouth resumed the work he had started not long after they had arrived back at his apartment. They had spent the evening teasing one another, and this was the end result, Lucy perched on the kitchen counter with Zeref buried between her legs.

She tasted like the sweetest nectar, he had learned that long ago and he would never tire of her delicious essence. His tongue flicked lightly against her folds, collecting what had escaped during the brief exchange of words and savouring the sensation.

A hand thrust into his hair made him groan in delight, the fingers delving deep until Lucy was gripping the very roots in her quest to pull him further against her core.

She was close, he knew her early statement had been true. Her thighs trembled, toes digging into his shoulders and shallow panting had begun in earnest.

Zeref let a hand trail up, working beneath the pale pink blouse. His digits danced across the quivering flesh of Lucy’s stomach until he reached the underside of her bra.

He was less than gentle as he forced the garment up, freeing her tits but still keeping them covered. Zeref loved that Lucy was more than his large hand could contain, the softest flesh spilling out between his splayed fingers as he kneaded her roughly.

His nose nuzzled against her hood, lips wrapped around her sensitive bundle of nerves to create a perfect suction. Her hips were rocking, chasing the friction that she so desperately craved.

Zeref had intended on extending this until she cried and pleaded for release, but the noise from down the hall changed his plans in a heartbeat.

With his free hand, he collected her slick and teased her tight, fluttering entrance. He watched her face, the cute little frown and her mouth hanging wide as she neared the precipice.

Gods, he was so hard. His jeans were far too tight against his groin and the friction of his clothes was almost enough for him to rip them away, but he couldn’t.

“Aaah!”

Lucy’s yell was far louder than he had anticipated as two of his fingers sunk into her molten centre. He cursed silently, knowing he would have to work quickly.

Those fingers plunged deeper with each stroke, soaked to his knuckles and when he curled them to find her special hidden area, she lost it.

The hand that had been freely pawing her breasts lowered to hold her securely on the counter for fear she would tumble to the floor.

Lucy bucked and writhed as she orgasmed with unrelenting force. Zeref held his fingers still, near gasping at the sensation of her walls trying to milk the digits of something they simply didn’t have, and he wished it was his cock that was buried deep instead.

There was no time for allowing Lucy a slow float back to earth, continued movement and noises were increasing from his brother’s room, and he knew they could be discovered at any moment.

Zeref stood on shaky legs, licking at his slick lips and admiring the fucked out expression that his gorgeous girlfriend wore. He pocketed the panties that he had removed earlier and tugged her skirt back into place before offering his hand.

She took it shyly, knowing that she had been louder than she should have - clearly embarrassed. Zeref wasn’t mad, he loved how vocal she was, but he had no wish for anyone else to have that intimate knowledge. He tugged her towards his bedroom with a wicked smile on his face.

He had thought they were in the clear, tiptoeing past the door where light spilled underneath, but it was too good to be true.

The door opened just as the pair were passing and they froze like deer in headlights. A mess of pink hair stood in the doorway, a deep frown on his face until he realised who he was looking at.

“What are you two up to?” Natsu teased, arms folding across his naked chest.

Zeref’s mouth opened, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks at being caught out, that was until another voice called out.

“Who’re you talking to? Come back to bed.”

Natsu looked ashen, the smug smile wiped clean from his face as both Zeref and Lucy peered deeper into his room. There, snug in his bed and completely naked it seemed, was Gray.

“Seems I could ask you the same thing brother.”

A year. That was all she had been given.

It was a bright, chilly morning when she awoke with pleasant satisfaction. Lucy’s inn room was dark compared to the blinding brilliance of the palace rooms, but even still, it wasn’t a bother. It was rather comforting to wake up to the glare of the sun attacking her from the slips in her curtained windows. It made her feel chirpier than usual—made her forget the problems that she would have to deal with in the future.

It was on this day that she realized that her therapies and healing were finished.

A few months ago, she was reduced to this weak, trembling human that could barely walk to the door before collapsing. And because of that, she had maids helping her throughout her days—she didn’t like every bit of it—and August had given her time to rest before her deal with Irene was set.

She dressed and bathed herself on her own this time. She opted for a dress with a rather modest neckline that had a long skirt which swished against her ankles and sighed amongst each other. Her necklace was still locked around her neck and the pendant rested in the crook between her collar bone, clear for most of the month as Zeref was too busy planning for the ritual and trying to keep the Spriggan 12 tame to grace her with his presence.

Lucy kept all of her dreams to herself. She couldn’t tell anyone, not even Olivia—who visited her twice in the duration of her stay at the palace—or Brandish. She couldn’t tell them that she occasionally dreamed of a man with very short hair, in a kimono of the deepest black with red hibiscuses. She would approach him and sit in front of him, and together they would talk about things she could not really remember. But at the end of every dream, he would smile at her that promised destruction and peace, everything and nothing, and she would wake up in a cold sweat.

She had a guess that he was Ankhseram, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone that.

Gathering up her wits, she stepped into the hallways of the palace and began her search for Zeref. She wasn’t well accustomed to the twists and turns of the gigantic castle, but she was going to try her best anyway.

It was bustling with servants as usual. But the people in this wing didn’t know her as well as those in the south wing, where she usually entered through and would be greeted with guards that would seldom escort her to the emperor themselves. Here, the servants barely casted her a glance—aside from the few maids who took care of her—and allowed her to roam around.

In the few months that she was ill and nearly-dying, she had missed many things. One of which was Zeref, who fussed too much and didn’t dare approach her when she was far too weak to be touched. On some nights, she would pretend to sleep as he whispered his days to her, his hand gently gripping her fingers while he kissed her brow and left. On these nights she would wish for her recovery to come sooner, so she would be able to lie awake beside him again.

Irene needn’t mention that she was annoyed with the deadline that was given to Lucy. A year was long enough already, and to be completely honest, she was itching to talk to Ankhseram. She often wondered—what kind of disaster would the god bring in the future?

Lucy paused her walk for a moment to gather her breath. What would the god do to her, once they met?

She somehow did not want to know.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she resumed her search for the emperor and after a few wrong turns later, she finally found him.

He was leaning over a desk full of papers and he looked the same as she last saw him. His hair appeared to be freshly trimmed, and his robes were more elegant than usual, but his face, his smile, his eyes—they were still the same.

He lifted his head as soon as she entered his office, a small smile gracing his lips. “How are you feeling?”

She closed the door behind her. “I’m alright,” she replied, smiling back. “I still cannot find my way through these halls.”

“Do you want me to provide a map?” he asked casually whilst skimming through his documents.

“I would look silly.”

He laughed. “No, you wouldn’t. You look good whatever it is you are doing.”

Looking at Zeref, her demeanor softened graciously. There was nothing more calming than seeing him after months of suffering. Her insides burned with a desire to pull him into a crushing embrace, one that would leave the both of them breathless.

It saddened her to think that this boy, this lonely, amazing boy, was bound to live alone forever.

“Lucy?”

She dragged herself out of her thoughts and hummed in response.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” she answered dismissively. “How are they? Brandish and the rest? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Zeref pondered about this for a moment, one hand buried in his hair as he exhaled slowly through his nose. “They are out on a mission as of now. I told them to go to Ishgar to search for documents regarding Ankhseram’s curse. There are not much documents about it here on Alakitasia.” He crumpled a document and threw it behind him. “And don’t worry, I warned them not to cause any harm or bring attention upon themselves.”

Lucy smiled wryly. “I’m not really worried about them being noticed.”

“Then what?” he asked, pausing in his work to look up at her.

She lifted a chair to place in front of his desk and sat down, crossing one ankle over the other. “I’m just worried whether they think that their mission is pointless. After all… Irene does not fancy me that much, I deduced.”

“That is correct,” Zeref mused, watching her movements with mirth-filled eyes. “But from the many years that I have known Irene, I’ve observed that she sucks at expressing her emotions or what she truly feels.”

“You’re saying she likes me.”

He chuckled. “I did not say that.” A glare from his lover made him grin. “But perhaps, she does.”

Lucy rested her chin atop the back of her hand and breathed out gently. “Perhaps—she did give me medicine to help me heal faster. I just felt that she disliked me because of how she reacted whenever I was around, or because of the mere fact that she’s doing all this work not for you but for me.” She smiled sadly. “I might be a waste of time.”

“You’re not,” he reassured, gathering the papers in his hands and piling them neatly to the side.

Deciding not to push the topic any further, Lucy tilted her head to the side and looked past Zeref where the balcony was open, a soft breeze ruffling the curtains inward. The sky was a silvery blue, swathed with clumps of ivory and decorated with a single, brilliant orb of gold. It was calming to see the world so undisturbed, as if there was no such thing as demons or gods, curses or blessings, and most importantly, of the mortal and immortal.

The immortal.

The only immortal.

She glanced at Zeref, taking in every detail of his face—from his flawless skin, to the bridge of his nose, to the lashes that shaded his eyes. He looked very, very young. Too young for a four hundred year old mage. Not a wrinkle in place, nor a freckle dotting his cheeks. Not a single hair of white. There weren’t even scars on his body. And to think that four hundred years that he lived, he had been wounded multiple times, some considered even life-threating, and yet no mark remained.

He was old and young at the same time, powerful and handsome—but lonely. Terribly lonely.

“Zeref?”

He flicked his eyes upwards to meet hers, a slight crinkle to the sides as they gleamed. “Yes?”

“I love you,” she whispered, smiling a moment later.

Surprised, he blinked and flushed slightly. “I see,” he replied, chuckling.

“I love you too.”

医

Aquarius folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyebrows. “It’s foolish and impossible, brat,” she hissed, watching the said girl stretch her limbs in front of her. “A god is a god. One must never get themselves involved with one, much less the god of life and death.”

“There is nothing else I can do,” Lucy explained, frowning.

The spirit rolled her eyes. “Yes, there is,” she retorted. “Leave the damn brat. He’s too dangerous and too old for you anyway.”

Lucy glared at Aquarius warningly. “I can force close your gate, you know,” she reminded, standing up from her position on the floor. “You know I can’t leave Zeref.”

A tense silence followed her statement, and the spirit watched her master with a frustrated glint in her eyes. Was the girl stupid? She did not know. She never did get how that mind of hers worked. She wanted to knock some sense into her most of the time. As much as she adored Layla’s daughter, she would never show it. Not in a million years. It was just not in her nature to do so. And so was agreeing with the girl’s futile dreams.

She clenched and unclenched her hands unknowingly. “He’s four hundred years old,” Aquarius deadpanned.

Lucy lifted a brow. “And so? He doesn’t look like it.”

“He’ll never die.”

She froze mid-step, her throat bobbing as she swallowed thickly. “Tell me something I don’t already know,” she murmured, pushing her way through the spirit and taking out a key. “Leave me alone, Aquarius.”

With a wave of her gate key and a hiss from the mermaid, she vanished in a brilliance of gold light. Glad to finally have some peace and quiet, Lucy sat on the edge of the bed and held her head in her hands. She could feel a headache coming and she hated it. It was getting frequent after all.

Sighing, she began to massage her temples. She knew that at some point, the mermaid was right. Zeref was older than her. And he was immortal. Still, that never really did stop her from loving the cursed boy. And although she was merely hoping to be immune from Zeref’s miasma, perhaps she could convince Ankhseram to make her immortal, too.

Perhaps.

夢

It smelled of incense and green tea.

She knew where she was before she even opened her eyes. The smell was always the same in the temple, where red painted wood lined the walls and tatami mats covered the floor in the rooms. The hallway was dim every time, lit by fireflies and lined with doors. She took off her slippers by the entrance and stepped onto the cool, wooden floor. She paused, hesitant. She had never tried not entering the temple.

She looked over her shoulder and blinked her eyes at the pitch black view that greeted her. Exhaling quietly from her nose, she took her first step into the hallway.

Fireflies stuck to her kimono as she walked. She was always wearing a kimono whenever she visited the temple. It was customary, she supposed. But this one was of black silk, decorated with pink hyacinths and white vines. The obi tied around her torso was of the deepest red, with a gold link clanging with every step. The elegance of her kimono this time around was the only change that she noticed—other than that, everything else was the same.

The last room at the end of the hallway was the only door that had a mat in front of it. That was why she entered it during her first time coming here. Until now, she didn’t know why he kept a welcome mat when he hated visitors.

She slid the door open and went inside the receiving room. There was a table in the middle, with a plate of sweet dangos for her to eat and a steaming cup of green tea beside it. But he wasn’t seated there like she expected him to.

“Ah, you look nicer today.”

She whipped her head behind her and found herself staring into a pair of onyx eyes. She stumbled backwards. “A-Ankhseram.”

He smiled, head cocking to the side. “Hello, Lucy.”

She side-stepped to let him pass and slid the door close before following him. The tatami mat was warm beneath her feet, something that only happened in the receiving room. The rest of the temple, last time she checked, was cold and barren, save for furniture and fireflies. She wondered how the god could live in such a sullen atmosphere, with no one else but him. Then she remembered that he ruled over life and death, which meant he was used to everything and nothing at once.

Like her previous visits, Ankhseram sat across of her with one knee propped up informally, while she sat in seiza. For some reason, he didn’t like being formal with her, while she had to be strictly formal with him. It was one of his customs—or perhaps his way of shaming her whenever they were talking. Whatever his thoughts were, she still did not know.

“I see you are doing better than last time,” he commented casually, picking up one of the dango sticks and sliding one ball into his mouth. He licked the syrup on his lips and offered her his share. “Bite?”

Lucy shook her head immediately and bowed slightly. “No, thank you.”

He clicked his tongue and finished his stick, while she picked up the warm cup of tea and took a sip. The fireflies that clung to her kimono had somehow vanished, and all that was left were white flowers of where they last clung to the fabric.

Ankhseram kept his gaze on her face, watching her every movement with cool, calculating eyes. His stare felt like a heavy weight on her shoulders, but she ignored it.

“The flowers in my garden died today,” he began, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. “I was hoping you could tell me why.”

Lucy felt her palms sweating on her lap. “I suppose it is because there is no sunlight here, Ankhseram.”

“I wonder who could give them light then,” he pondered, sounding far too innocent for it to be a passing thought.

She smiled nervously, daring to meet his eyes. “Do you wish for me to provide them starlight?”

He shrugged half-heartedly. “Not really. I do not care much for flowers,” he stated, sighing. “Was simply trying to ask whether or not your magic is back at full.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, tucking in her chin.

“I know, and it is rather blinding to be feeling it from you coming out in rays.”

She looked at him, biting her tongue to prevent herself from talking back—why couldn’t he just tell her that in the first place then?

Ankhseram hummed in amusement, lips quirking upwards. “You look frustrated,” he observed.

“I am not,” she countered, forcing a smile on her face to prove her point. “Why am I here again, Ankhseram?”

An ivory butterfly fluttered in from the window and it perched on his shoulder. “How many times must I tell you that I do not permit visitors, so I cannot exactly tell you why,” he pressed, brushing his fingers through his short, raven hair. “I just know I felt your presence by the door and—heavens curse me—I was far too curious to let you drift by. So I gave you a pass to the temple.”

Lucy pursed her lips, forehead creasing. “So why do you keep letting me visit then?” she pushed. “Are you lonely?”

He leaned back and supported his weight by his hands, looking down at her. “A god is not permitted to feel lonely,” Ankhseram answered, eyes blank. “However, I do think my conversations with you keep me entertained, so that must be why.”

“I am not an entertainer.”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Nor am I one to be entertained, but it’s befitting and it works to our advantage,” he said slyly, tilting his head slightly to the side. “How does it feel? To be feeding more than yourself?”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked with a frown, confused. Did he mean Zeref? Her spirits? Or something else entirely?

He lifted a brow in calm wonder. “You do not know?”

“Know what?”

Ankhseram smiled coyly, eyes darkening. “A child grows within you, spirit mage.”

She jolted upright, waking in a cold sweat. She panted heavily, her unbound hair clinging to her skin and the back of her nightgown soaked. She covered her face with her hands and sucked in a deep breath to calm down.

Like the previous nights, she gathered her wits and attempted to recall the dream. What did she and the man talk about this time? Her mind was noisy, like the flapping of ten million butterfly wings, and all she could recall was the blood-red obi and onyx eyes looking down at her—and that smile, that smile at the end once again. It murdered her.

She never did remember if he told her his name. Or if she told him hers. All she had were blind guesses that he was Ankhseram, but there was nothing to support her theory.

She buried her fingers in her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. But there was nothing. Not even a word left from their conversation or the smell of the room. Only the obi and his eyes. And that destructive smile.

夢

“Good, your stance is good,” Brandish praised, circling Lucy as she tapped a thin stick against the inside of her knee. “Lower.”

“Sorry,” Lucy said sheepishly. She maintained her legs, which were spread apart and bent with her arms positioned in front of her. Maintaining the stance made her insides tremble with the effort. It was one of the easiest, but her body was not as strong as it used to be—plus the weather did not help much. The afternoon heat was beating at her skin relentlessly, droplets of sweat dripping from her chin and sliding down the nape of her neck.

Zeref decided that Lucy had to be physically fit just in case she was going to be included in the war. Additionally, she was also training to be up against Ankhseram, in case he ever played games with her. Rumors had it that gods enjoyed giving puzzles to anyone who dared to talk with them. Lucy supposed she wouldn’t be an exception.

“Okay, let up.”

A breath sharply left her lips as she straightened her legs and began rolling her shoulders. “Ah, that hurts,” she moaned, wincing at the soreness of her joints.

“You’ve only done three,” Brandish pointed out, arching a brow. “You have yet to do ten. Only then do we move from the basics.”

Lucy pressed her lips together and exhaled through her nose. “I understand,” she murmured, wiping the sweat on her forehead.

The warrior waved a maid over and took a glass of water from her hands. “Here, we don’t want you getting dehydrated,” she said seriously, passing Lucy the glass.

She took the drink from her thankfully. “When do I begin training with my spirits?”

Brandish hummed thoughtfully, unconsciously shrinking and enlarging a piece of rock nearby. “With this pacing, I predict it will take you a month or so to be agile and physically strong without relying on your magic. It’s best that you save up on that department when in war. Dimaria will teach you swordsmanship while Irene will be in charge of your spell lessons.”

Lucy flinched. “Irene?”

“Oh, yeah,” the warrior confirmed, smiling sadly. “She’s the best we have, so his Majesty decided it would be best to make her your trainer. I’ll be on guard though so you shouldn’t worry about her.”

It wasn’t that, Lucy wanted to interject, but decided against it.

“Lucy,” a familiar voice called out, making her sharply look behind to find the person she had been looking for all day.

“Spriggan!”

Zeref chuckled and walked over to where the two women were training. His usual robes were nowhere to be found, replaced by black slacks and a dark long-sleeved dress shirt. She found this to be odd but didn’t question it. She liked the change after all.

“How’s training?” he inquired, hands deep within his pockets.

The green-haired mage glanced sideways at her case. “She’s… improving,” she supplied, lip twitching. “Months of being bedridden has made her muscles weak and vulnerable to bruises, hence why we’re taking it slow.”

There was a huff. “I am trying, you know.”

“I know.” Brandish smiled.

A sense of contentment filled the dark mage, and he gave them a few more moments before he cleared his throat, disrupting their conversation. “May I have Lucy for the rest of the day? I have a few matters that I wish to discuss with her.”

Brandish didn’t wait a heartbeat to bow her head. “Of course, your Majesty.” She straightened and faced Lucy. “I will see you tomorrow.”

She nodded, smiling. “Okay, bye Bran!”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Let’s go,” Lucy whispered in Zeref’s ear, hooking her arm with his as she dragged him away from a complaining Brandish. She failed to catch her lover’s amused stare.

They continued their peaceful stroll in the gardens, neither of them speaking. They both relished the peace that they rarely got to have, and with the war nearing the horizons and her bargain with Ankhseram less than nine months away, every second spent with each other was cherished and used wisely. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing as they entered the palace, heading for Lucy’s room—it was the only place they could talk comfortably without anyone listening in. Well, other than his office, but that was far too formal.

Lucy knew she should somehow be afraid to be this close to Zeref—she still wasn’t immune. Yet she couldn’t help it. She missed the dark mage as much as she missed walking around. He was always so busy that despite being in the same building as him, chances of them colliding were slim.

The hallway ended into a turn and she knew that they were near. When they arrived at her room, he took the liberty of casting a spell so that no one else would be able to hear their conversation other than the occupants inside. Why he did that—she didn’t know. She didn’t question him either for she trusted him wholeheartedly.

A sigh grabbed her attention.

“What’s wrong?”

Zeref was sprawled on her bed, shoes scattered on the floor and two of his buttons near the collar open. He covered his eyes with his forearm, chest rising and falling at a steady rhythm.

She smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, combing her fingers through his hair. She suddenly saw his mouth open, and he mouthed words that she couldn’t understand. So she leaned a little closer, hoping to hear it clearer. But his whisper made her shudder.

“Don’t do it.”

She wasn’t sure if she heard him right. “What?”

A hand latched onto her wrist and she squeaked as Zeref pulled her towards him. Strong arms embraced her, holding her tightly against his body. “Don’t do it for me,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t bargain with Ankhseram.”

Lucy felt something within her break and her eyes saddened at the sight of her lover. She shushed him, placing her ear against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. It was a fast-paced run, a sporadic thumping that just wouldn’t cease. And she hated it. “I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “But I need to do it—for us. We can’t keep living this way…”

“It’s dangerous,” he insisted, almost growling.

“And so? Being with you was reckless enough, but I’m fine, aren’t I?” she tried to prove herself. Lucy forgot how difficult it was to win in an argument against Zeref, but she wasn’t going to back down this time. Not when it really mattered.

“You know that this and that are not the same.”

“In terms of recklessness? I beg to differ.”

Zeref leaned back a little so he could look into her eyes. “Lucy… I can’t,” he choked, blinking rapidly. “I—can’t lose you.”

She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured, giving him a peck on the lips. “Please believe in me.”

Unresponsive, he simply cupped the nape of her neck and drew her in for a deep kiss, slowly tangling his fingers in her long, golden hair. She felt him nipping her lip and she held onto his shoulders. “Zere—ah,” she gasped, unable to speak from his endless kissing.

“I’m sorry,” Zeref mumbled against her lips, flipping them over so he was on top of her, his elbows on either side of her face. “I do believe in you.”

She smiled in relief, nodding. “Thank you.”

He nodded in return and lowered his face to rest on the crook of her neck. “I missed you,” he told her, his breath fanning her skin that sent a shiver down her spine. “Are you tired?”

“No,” she quickly answered, back arching when he placed a gentle kiss on her collarbone. Heavens, her mind was going blank. “I-I’m okay.”

A hand was idly making circles on her bare thigh, which reminded her that she was still in her training clothes. The other was still firmly planted on the bed, supporting his weight while he sent a trail of kisses down her neck to the dip of her top’s neckline. He sucked a specifically tender spot just above her heartbeat, and she bit the inside of her cheek to silence her moan.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, going back up to capture her lips. “The room’s sealed.”

Lucy knew that. But still.

“I-It’s dangerous,” she yelped, covering her mouth afterwards. Zeref had just left another hickey on her neck, one that could not be so easily hidden from prying eyes. “Zeref!”

The said man chuckled, amused eyes flicking upwards to meet hers. “You’ll be fine,” he said, grinning when he saw the realization dawn on her face. He was playing with her, and he was enjoying it. “Right, my love?”

She whimpered, “H-How dare y-you…”

He placed his knee between her thighs to keep them from closing. “Can you keep up?” he questioned lazily, his voice low and husky, sending a wave of goosebumps over her skin. “Has months of being in bed made you this weak?”

“No,” she groaned, face flushed pink.

She felt him smile against the inside of her thigh, and she closed her eyes, whimpering as he dragged his teeth over her skin. “Then keep up with me, Lucy,” he taunted, eyes flashing as they were suddenly immersed in darkness.

Lucy found herself glowing and, with whatever strength she had left, rolled them over. She straddled his waist, hands gripping his shoulders for support. She looked down at him and dragged a dainty finger down the side of his face. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “Of course I can—do not belittle me.”

He smiled cunningly. “That’s my girl.”

務

Zeref braced his forearms on the stone railing as he watched the rising sun from the distance, setting the sky alight with a palette of flames and lilacs. The freezing air bit into his skin but he paid it no mind. It was a comfort knowing that he could still feel pain—a reminder that he was still somehow human. Often times he’d feel the urge to subject himself to torture, simply to shake his spirit awake. A bad habit, he supposed. But one that he tried not to indulge in too much.

His beloved was what brought back the mortality in his soul. The woman was a breath of fresh air. Despite being an unexpected visitor on that faithful day at that wretched island, she ended up becoming something more to the dark mage than he would have let anyone be. It was against his principles but perhaps he could always break a few of his rules.

He was not just an immortal mage cursed to live his life alone anymore. Although plenty would oppose to that, having Lucy by his side was more than enough. He would sacrifice whatever he had to keep her safe and to assure her a bright future.

Gently, he inhaled, filling his lungs with air before exhaling through his mouth. Today was going to be rather hectic. He had a couple meetings with his warriors and he had paperwork to sign. August was also going to update him about their findings on the god, Ankhseram, and whether or not he was actually someone the likes of them could contact. If not, then he would be pleased to save Lucy the risk.

After a few more minutes of delightful tranquility on the balcony, he decided that it would be best that he start his day earlier than usual.

He entered Lucy’s bedroom and closed the door behind him, his stare immediately landing on his sleeping lover on the bed. She was clad in nothing beneath the pale blue sheets, yet she looked completely warm while she slept. It made him smile.

As much as it displeased him to leave all of a sudden, he didn’t wish to wake her up. Her training yesterday with Brandish drained her. Added with their activity last night, he knew she deserved a long rest. He would have to tell the green-haired mage about the change of schedule, along with a placement of orders for a new set of training gear and clothes—he’d have Invel accomplish that task.

He wrote a quick note about his whereabouts and a reminder for Lucy to take her medicine. It wasn’t much, but he hoped it could ease the hurt she’d feel from waking up without him beside her. He left the note by her bedside table and kissed her forehead before flickering away.

When he arrived in his chambers, he found his black robes prepared on the bed along with his white sash. He ruffled his hair, sighed, and began putting on the garments. It had a lot more layers than usual, which meant that he was in for one tiring day. Except Zeref Dragneel had gone through things far more tiring than meetings. Four hundred years was exhausting enough, after all.

He was in the middle of draping the sash over his shoulder when his brief but meaningful silence was interrupted by a series of footsteps.

“Your Majesty, permission to enter!”

His eyes narrowed. What was the commotion about? “You may enter.”

Dimaria slammed the door open and saluted, breathless. “I’m afraid I have urgent news to tell you,” she rushed, eyes set into a determined glint.

“What is it?” Zeref asked, frowning. His next words were swallowed as he felt that familiar surge of magic and all the color drained from his face. A bead of sweat slid down his temple.

The swordswoman swallowed thickly, eyebrows furrowed. “Fairy Tail was sighted on the way to our borders!”

It seemed to him that things were not going according to plan.

There are three kanjis in this part.

医 - heal 夢 - dream 務 - duty

As I stated in the previous chapter, FT’s ending and everything that happened made me change my plans. No one stated if Ankhseram was a male or female, so I simply assumed. TBH I am trying my best not to ship him and Lucy now. 

I decided to prolong this story a bit further since I do not know when it will finish, perhaps in two more chapters.