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The Misadventures of Slitherfuck and Metalface

Summary:

To Cobra, "probation" was perhaps the most grating word he'd ever heard. To Gajeel, it was just another job with an aggravating teammate. Dragons are territorial and tend to be combative - but when other dragon instincts get in the way, being argumentative is the least confusing thing about their new partnership.

Notes:

The first 9 chapters of this fanfic are co-authored by two people: Zephiraz (Jeely on FF.net) and LilyKotsu. The events in this story began in roleplay, and then evolved into something much more. Chapter 10 onwards is one author, Lily.

Please note that mentions of alpha/beta/sub/etc. in this fic do not mean the same as in ABO genre. In this fic they apply to dragon-social hierarchy stuff.


Winner of Best Drama Fiction award for The Guild Awards 2022 T2 season!



Transformative Works policy: Please feel free to podfic, translate, or create fanart related to this fic! (As long as it's NOT on Wattpad.) All I ask is that you send me a link (or on AO3, list it as a related work) so that I can link back to it.

Chapter 1: Ouroboros Begins

Notes:

Credit to Rhapshie for the image below! It was commissioned by the former co-author (Zeph) and has been posted (and edited) here with their permission.

Chapter Text

 

"... Dragons, while mostly solitary creatures, can congregate in what is called a ‘flight’. Similar to a wolf pack or lion pride, there is always a clear alpha; usually male, though alpha females are not unheard of. The alpha's rule over the less dominant dragons in his flight is absolute, unless he is dethroned by a challenger..." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 12

 

Chapter One: Ouroboros Begins

Dank, dark, and altogether miserable; not words one would want to describe an unpaid job, but Gajeel found himself stumbling into them far too often. This time they accompanied a mission given to him by the Master in secret. As the Master's grandson had recently been expelled from Fairy Tail it fell to Gajeel to track Laxus and ensure the boy had come to no harm nor been discovered by certain darks guilds out for his life, and Gajeel was none too pleased. He couldn't refuse a direct order, however, so the Iron Dragonslayer set off for misadventures untold.

It was easy enough for a seasoned Dragonslayer to track Laxus down. The scent of fresh air after a storm and cloying cologne drew Gajeel to the outskirts of an old graveyard overrun by moss and ivy, the myriad branches of late-blooming trees meshing together to form a flowering wall above the rotting remains of wooden fencing.

Another smell - that of blood, leather, and battle - mingled with that of the Thunder God, fighting to make itself known above Laxus' stench. Gajeel kept to the moss to muffle his steps and stayed well downwind of his quarry; but as he drew closer to the heavy scent that was undoubtedly Laxus, he noted the unfamiliar scent was closer than he had originally thought.

"I doubt he'll kick up too much of a hassle," Laxus said, leaning against one of the larger mossy graves. He folded his thick arms over his chest, then waved one of his hands for emphasis. "Old man loves a good redemption story. He won't turn away somebody who's injured, either. Not saying I'm playing his chords, but... just saying it works in your favor." There was a thoughtful pause, and the sound of a rustling cloak.

The sounds returned to the eerie quietness of the old graveyard. Any further movement to see lead to only one sight: Laxus, dressed in common clothes and a traveller's cloak, leaning against a crumbling grave while the air about him seemed to be stained with an overwhelming smugness.

The scent of blood had moved closer, however. Almost like it was right behind Gajeel...

"What are you doing here, low breed?" came a gravelly and sneering voice, just before a foot kicked the back of the iron dragon's head.

Bright spots erupted in Gajeel's eyes and he stumbled out of cover, but he quickly caught himself and swung around into a defensive stance as instinct took hold, metallic scales growing along his raised forearms.

Before him stood an unfamiliar face. Dark red hair, tan skin, stupid slanty eyes. Fucker was injured, his right arm in a bloody sling that he tried to hide under his own traveller's cloak. He was very thin and wasn't very big, he was just about Salamander's height - which seemed almost dwarfed in comparison to the Thunder God over yonder.

Most importantly the stranger wasn't pressing the attack further, and he certainly didn't smell like anyone from Raven Tail.

"I oughtta be asking you that same thing, ya dirty fuck," Gajeel retorted. "What, you trying to drag Laxus to the dark side?" But even as he asked, Gajeel knew it wasn't true. A dark guild wouldn't employ such a shabby recruiter, nor send someone already injured into a possible fight. Then again, most dark mages he knew were complete dicks.

The stranger's posture didn't change, a stance that, even with a bum arm, seemed to be eerily confident. He looked at Gajeel's scales, but seemed completely unphased by their presence. "Your Master sent you to spy on Laxus." He gave a tired smirk, then looked to Laxus. "So this is the idiot you were talking about," he commented, moving past Gajeel with silent steps.

"Figures," Laxus grunted, stepping away from his grave. "Might as well invite him to the party, then, eh?" His guest didn't seem all too pleased with the proposal, but Laxus was already hatching an idea. "I don't need some recycled waste of space tailing me everywhere I go, but maybe you can make yourself useful. I've got a job for you, trash, and I'll even pay you for it, unlike that old man of mine."

Gajeel bristled under the rash of insults, but here Laxus was willing to provide something he sorely needed; rent money. Pride could wait, Gajeel decided as he begrudgingly followed the redheaded weirdo into the mossy clearing.

"So you've knocked some sense into that thick skull of yours, have you?" Laxus smirked when he received no response. "Good. Now, listen closely. You're going back to Fairy Tail, you're gonna get the Master, and bring him here. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Gajeel responded gruffly. "Now how much you payin' for this shit?"

Laxus' smirk grew into a full-blown smug caricature as he stepped forward and pinned a letter to the front of Gajeel's tunic. "I'm paying you by not killing you," Laxus growled, warning sparks skittering across his arms. Where they strayed too close, the errant electricity arced onto Gajeel and burned his skin. "Got it?"

"Y-Yeah..." He should fight. He knew he should fight. But the excruciating memory of taking the full brunt of Laxus' fury so Natsu could survive was still fresh in his mind. He had no choice but to comply.

All the while the stranger had climbed up on one of the larger graves and made himself content in the soft moss and princess pine that covered it. His narrow eyes keenly watching the situation, he then turned his violet glance away and smirked at Laxus' form of payment. "Impressive, a First Gen that knows how to take orders," the redhead commented, leaning back on his one good arm. "I can hear how well you've trained him." 'Like a dog' the stranger's tone seemed to imply, though the words weren't said.

Gajeel had to look away to keep from glaring literal daggers. He had made a promise to the old man that he'd bring him news of the brat without causing a commotion. He would have to let this one go. That didn't mean he couldn't think about beating them both to a bloody pulp, which he did with gusto as he turned and skulked from the graveyard. Neither would have a bone left in their body by the time he made it back to the guild.


 

Fairy Tail was as lively as ever, noise and rowdy energy radiating out of every mage present in the large guild hall. So much so, that no one seemed to pay any attention to the black-haired man that came stalking in through the front doors; a man with a scowl that could have drilled through skulls.

It was with some misfortune that he almost tripped over the smiling shillelagh that suddenly stuck out from behind one of the great pillars. The short, elderly man who emerged soon after was at no loss for his own aged smile, looking up at Gajeel with a warm expectation. "I can only guess from that look on your face that you came across my grandson out there," Master Makarov commented. His voice held with it a promise that it would be fine if the iron dragon hadn't.

"I found your brat alright," Gajeel said with some distaste. "I got found out; he had some freak with him, and now he seems to think I'm the official Dreyar errand boy. He wanted you to have this." He withdrew a heavily crumpled envelope from a deep pocket it and shoved it in front of the Master. The envelope was plain, aside from a single etched lightning bolt on the front; an enchantment that would no doubt zap whoever opened it were they not the intended recipient.

Makarov took the envelope and withdrew a letter, reading in silence. His kindly smile morphed into a mask of surprise as his eyes scanned the page, then melted into a tired frown and a sigh of resignation. "I've a new task for you, Gajeel. You need to show me to where you found Laxus - he didn't write down a meeting place. This could be dangerous, so I want you to keep an eye on things while we're there."

Damn. He really was the Dreyar errand boy.

In the background, Natsu's grating voice unfurled a story of how he shouted some guy half to death and then somebody got shot. If Gajeel wasn't careful, he thought he'd go the same way at this rate.

Chapter 2: Previously Aggressive

Chapter Text

"A dragon flight rules over a territory, which is divided up into individual domains, domains shared by a mated pair or siblings, and familial nesting sites. Dragons new to a flight, or a trespasser in a flight's territory, may show aggressive behavior to stake their own claim..." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 14


Chapter Two: Previously Aggressive

It was raining; only slightly, but enough to dampen a person's clothes were they to stay out too long. Gajeel was thoroughly soaked. His hair lay limp and heavy, while his clothes clung to every curve. Between the pounding of the rain, the thick wooden door, and the stampede of voices coming from the tavern he was forced to wait outside of, Gajeel couldn't hear a damned thing. And just inside, no doubt beside a warm fireplace with ale in hand, Laxus and his new pet were talking to Master Makarov.

'Wait out here,' they had said, 'We'll only be five minutes!'

"Well five minutes my ass!" Gajeel swore and turned to kick the doorframe he had been leaning on. "And who the hell is that twiggy fuck, anyway? Struts around like he's some big deal, all he'll get coming to him is an iron fist to the face!" Unable to think of further ways to curse out someone who wasn't there, Gajeel let his eyes fall to the dent he'd left in the doorframe. The wood was splintered and would likely make it slightly difficult for anyone to enter or exit the tavern.

But hey, the door deserved it! Appeased for now, the iron dragon settled against the undamaged side of the doorframe and crossed his arms across his chest, ready to continue the waiting game.


 

He was the only one at the booth who didn't flinch when the wall of the tavern thudded, some of the brick-a-brack falling off the old walls. It took a lot more than that to surprise him; he knew everything that was coming, anything that anyone planned to do.

Cobra held his tongue as Laxus and the Fairy Guildmaster looked back at the door and exchanged glances with one another. The poison dragon would have made a whole slew of comments about the iron dragon - how impatient he was, how uncouth he was, how low-bred he was - but he could hear that it wouldn't score him points with the old man. That and, on the other hand, Makarov was Laxus' grandfather. Cobra could show the man respect.

"What an impatient moron," Laxus grumbled.

Master Makarov sighed. Cobra could hear that Makarov agreed, but also thought that most of the Dragonslayers were impatient and loud, Laxus included.

"Mhm," Cobra sounded in agreement, as if it were all a fresh conversation. He idly played with the sling his right arm was slung in.

"But back to the matter we're here to discuss," Makarov went on, "About this young man here changing sides. Taking in a man like Gajeel, from Phantom Lord, which at one point was a legal guild, is one thing. Explain to me why Fairy Tail should be risked to take in someone hailing from one of the big Balaam dark guilds?"

Cobra would give the old guy some credit; he wasn't stupid. Makarov had made a point not to directly mention the name Oracion Seis around here.

"Because I asked you, Gramps," Laxus stated. "Cobra's an old friend of mine. He... just needs someplace else to go."

Damn right, Cobra wasn't about to go to prison. He'd heard what went on in there.

"And if it's that legal crap you're worried about, the Council and the Rune Knights can't touch him if he joins a legit guild. Like how they can't go after that shithead outside for what he did in Phantom."

The blond went to pat Cobra on the shoulder, only instead of a pat it felt more like a punch with his injury.

"Watch it," Cobra hissed through gritted fangs.

The old Saint eyed Laxus' interaction and Cobra's reaction. "Tell me, how did you get that injury? Did Natsu do it to you?"

Cobra froze. He could hear that Makarov knew the story. Salamander had loudly bragged about the whole encounter, told the story about facing one of the Demon Generals - yet oddly enough, Cobra couldn't hear that the pink-haired nitwit had said anything about beating him.

"No." It was a simple answer.

"Then how did it happen?"

He wants me to admit it. Again Cobra held his tongue, opting to swallow instead. "I got shot."

"Shot by whom?"

Taking in a controlled breath, Cobra again held his temper at bay. His eyes shifted away from the elder Fairy. "M... My old Master." There was so much anger, so much betrayal and venom in that sentence that Makarov got the message to not press it further. Calling Brain 'master' seemed like such a fucking farce. A moment of silence passed before Cobra started again. "It's like Laxus said. I do not have anywhere to go back to; I can't keep running from the Council forever. I can give you my word that I'll keep my nose out of things that might bring the guild trouble."

The words seemed to weigh with Master Makarov, at the very least.

"Besides," Laxus threw in, "Fairy Tail kind of owes him a new place."

Cobra's ears lightly twitched, the thoughts of Makarov coming to him. Wait, is the old guy really thinking like that? "And," Cobra carefully decided to indulge in that last thought, "You'll have the complete set of Dragonslayers."

Bingo. That, oddly enough, seemed to seal the deal. "Fine. Then if you're really going to be held to your word and join us, I've got three requirements for you, Cobra. One, you aren't to engage in any illegal activity and are to cut all ties with your former dark mage associates. Two, if I find out that you are harming or betraying anyone in Fairy Tail - well, let's just say that there won't be a chance for you to be tried in the Council's court. And Three, try to stay out of fights in the guildhall. I don't need four rowdy dragons tearing the poor old place down."

"A toast, then, to new homes and not giving a shit!" Laxus said and downed the rest of his beer in one go, signaling the end of the deliberations. Makarov followed suit, though more sedated, leaving just Cobra and Cobra's suspiciously non-alcoholic drink.

"It's been a while since we've welcomed another into our family," Makarov said, looking to Cobra with a glint of humor in his eye. "I believe the last was Wendy, after- well, she didn't have much of a home to return to after the Nirvana incident. Isn't it funny how these things turn out?"

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the sentimental bullshit. You've still got an iron dipshit outside to babysit."

Laxus' point was punctuated by the sound of the door slamming inwards and falling off its hinges; a group of bargoers seeking to drop in for the night were unable to open the jammed door, and Gajeel was kind enough to knock it open for them.

Makarov could only gawk in horror, already tallying the damage expenses in his mind.

"We'll just pretend he's not with us..."

"Agreed," Laxus and Cobra both said.


 

The sun was just setting when the Guildmaster walked back through the large wooden doors of Fairy Tail, two figures begrudgingly trailing behind him. Laxus had stayed behind, as per the current arrangement he had with Makarov.

Most of the Fairies knew the irate Gajeel, but who was the young man with the crimson hair?

Cobra could hear them; their questions, their concerns, their... opinions on how nice his butt was? He shook his head and pretended he hadn't heard that last part. He was uncomfortable with such things.

His ass aside, everyone wasn't as annoying as he was expecting. That was, until...

"HEY, GRAMPS!" the voice echoed, but Cobra wasn't sure if that was the building or simply how loud Natsu was to ears. "WHERE DID YOU GO WITH GAJEEL?" Natsu approached the three, still covered in medical tape and recovering from the damage Cobra had done to him.

Cobra couldn't help the prideful smirk that crept up on his flat features. At least he only had a shot shoulder.

"WAIT, WHAT'S COBRA DOING HERE?"

"That would be your new guildmate," Makarov responded with a mischievous smile.

Natsu wasn't convinced. The pink-haired dragonlsayer squinted and stared at his former enemy as if he could make things make sense faster by peering harder. This bout of thinking caught Cobra's ears and made him shudder, tossing an annoyed look at the scarf-wearing fire dragon.

"Stop it," he hissed lowly.

"STOP WHAT?"

"That."

"WHAT?"

Cobra motioned with his hand, up and down.

Confused, Natsu spun in a circle. Clearly there was something on his back, and that bastard Gray must have put it there!


 

Natsu's plan to catch his own ass was met with unparalleled success when Erza approached with the guild stamp in hand. She pushed the dizzy fire dragon away from the poison dragon, for now. After a nod of encouragement from the Master, Cobra turned away from the rest of the guild and reluctantly lifted the front of his shirt, oddly protective of letting anyone but the necessary see his exposed skin. He allowed just enough room for Erza to press the stamp against his stomach. A hum and soft light emitted from beneath the enchanted wooden block. When the light faded, Erza pulled the stamp away and stepped back. Cobra's skin bore the mark of Fairy Tail, crimson in color.

It took until Cobra rolled his shirt down for this act to sink in with the rest of the guild. All at once, pandemonium erupted.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S OUR GUILDMATE NOW, WE HAVEN'T HAD OUR REMATCH YET!" Natsu enthusiastically shouted, no longer dizzy.

"Are you a nice Dragonslayer like Wendy, or do we gotta put on our new-friend helmets again?"

"Nice ass!"

"What's with his arm?"

"COBRA, FIGHT ME!" Natsu shoved his way through the crowd again.

"SILENCE!" Erza's commanding presence at once stymied the flood of questions and surge of curious fairies. Her glare emptied a small perimeter around the new fairy, but the rest were too intrigued to return to what they were doing. "Now that I have your attention," she continued, turning her glare to Cobra and Gajeel, "There are some ground rules you must follow."

‘Rules that don’t exist and that I have just made up’. Right, Titania? Cobra let out a sigh through his nose, pushing back the need to be snippy with the woman.

"Until such time as we deem you trustworthy, Gajeel is to accompany you on all jobs. You can redeem yourself, Cobra, and Gajeel can prove himself responsible."

From the force of Erza's tone it was clear the only judge involved would be herself.

Gajeel bristled under the insult, but with the Master behind her and onlookers surrounding them, a rare moment of wisdom urged him to caution. "So what, I get the babysitting detail? I don't need the help in the field, and I don't need a pet snake. I-"

"Will recover stolen goods for Lord Taillefer with Cobra or get both of your memberships revoked." Erza stared down the two Dragonslayers, daring either to protest.

"Any questions?"

Yes, I have one, Cobra mentally snarked. He placed his free hand on his hip, under his cloak while listening to Erza go on about how she was going to keep an especially good eye on him. Are you still angry that I got the better of you in that fight? 100J says you are.

Chapter 3: First Job

Chapter Text

"Dragons are separated into elemental breeds. Each elemental breed has their own behavioral patterns." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 3

 

Chapter Three: First Job

The woods were lovely, dark and deep. But one of the mages sneaking through the underbrush had promises to keep... like not poisoning this lout following him and tossing the body in a shallow grave.

After Titania had oh-so-graciously "given" the brand new - and entirely forced, Cobra would add - team this job, they'd waited a day before even setting out for it. Night had fallen in their procrastination.

He had been right in saying that the old man wasn't stupid. Cobra had paperwork to fill out, and a contract to sign; a contract stating what he'd promised to Makarov. Which, sadly, barred Cobra from offing Gajeel. With poison. Or a knife. Or a poisoned knife? No, no. A knife wouldn't work on Gajeel, Corba could hear it.

For every quiet, soundless step that Cobra took, Gajeel took two trudging ones with those heavy boots of his. Served Cobra right for suggesting a shortcut through the forest. Eventually the trees and bushes thinned out, opening up at the base of a wide and high cliff. Up top rested the outer walls of a mansion that looked out upon the Southern Woodsea.

Cobra stopped, not even looking back at his new "partner" as he surveyed the new obstacle. "Please tell me that you're not already out of breath," he sighed, although his tone was not surprised in the least bit.

"I'm not out of breath, asshole," Gajeel grunted in response. Sure, he was breathing hard, but who wouldn't be after clambering through miles of brush and bush and bramble? This slithery fuck didn't count, of course - freaks of nature were excluded from all things abnormal. At least they'd made it to what looked to be their destination, a new obstacle which was much more the iron dragon's speed. He knocked his fist against the stone experimentally a couple times and, seemingly satisfied, twisted his fist into an iron climbing pick. "You ready for some real exercise, twiggy?" Gajeel asked, split by a crooked grin. All this talk about thieves, arrogant nobles, and gold for the taking got him all revved up for a good workout, and it looked like his patience was finally about to pay off. One quick climb to go and they'd be in action!

The redhead glanced between Gajeel and the cliff, moving the hand of his bad arm in a slightly sarcastic manner. "And here I was hoping there'd just be an elevator."

"... A what?" Gajeel stared at Cobra in bafflement for a moment, then turned his gaze to the cliffside as if it might transform at any moment. "You mean like those moving buffets?" Now there was a thought, get a good meal in before kicking ass. Though they were already here, taking time out to eat would throw their schedule off... Enticing as it was, Gajeel waved the thought off and jammed his other fist-pick into the cliffside. "Ya should've eaten before we came, y'know. We got work to do!"

Work that entailed breaking into a fortified mansion perched upon a cliff to reclaim an item stolen from their client. To Gajeel, the best means of breaking and entering entailed climbing the cliff which led to the mansion's back wall - no one would suspect on assault from beneath a hundred-foot drop, after all. He dug his iron pick-hands into the stone and with little effort hoisted himself off the ground. With his spike-toed boots firmly implanted in stone, Gajeel turned to check his partner's progress. "You comin', twig?"

Cobra once again looked up at the mansion. Cocking a thin brow, he said: "Yeah, see. I can't do... Whatever it is you're doing."

Gajeel rolled his eyes in response, breaking his stride to wait for the slow shit-head he got saddled with. "Why don't you just tie a rope to my ass and hitch a ride up then, eh? Not like the cliff's gonna climb itself."

A wide and displeased frown spread across Cobra's face. "How about I don't do that, and instead go around the cliff instead?"

"What, are you mental? That's exactly what they'd expect! Tch, and here I thought you were supposed to be some great tactician..." Undeterred, Gajeel took a couple more swings and began his ascent. "Fine, I'll meet you up there. First one there gets to pick how we get home."

Cobra turned on his heel and headed back into the dark woods, his frown melting into a self-assured smirk. "Enjoy the guard golems in the guy's yard."


 

The front gates of Lord Taillefer's mansion were large and made of thick wrought iron bars. Bars that had just enough space for someone to pass through if they were thin enough; which, luckily for Cobra, happened to be just the right width for him to pass through. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Having the iron idiot eat them would have been too easy a plan, plus Cobra liked making Gajeel miss out on a potential meal - what with the man's ability to eat as quietly as a trainwreck.

It was a simple enough plan, really. With Gajeel "distracting" the guard golems in the back yard, it left the rest of the perimeter open for Cobra to melt the locks on the front door and walk in.

The artifact was right where he had heard it was, on a pedestal in the study on the second floor. The room was dark, but he didn't need to see anything to complete this job. However something did catch his attention - a soft, magical hum coming from the object. Carefully, Cobra turned on one of the desk lamps and saw why.

The artifact they were supposed to retrieve was a small statuette of a diawolf, made from a white lacrimia-like material. Every detail was perfectly chiseled as if the statuette were grown rather than crafted, and the faint hum seemed to grow into a shrill whistle the closer Cobra got.

A bit too close, in fact.

The whistle built to a crescendo and ended in a deafening crash as a portion of the ceiling broke inwards under the weight of a flying Gajeel. He bounced off the floor and rolled to a stop just before the desk, forcing Cobra to side-step to avoid him. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he stood to dust himself off and dropped his new trophy, a watermelon-sized stone head shorn from one of the sentry golems.

"Oy, Slitherfuck, I found the thing!" Gajeel shouted, gesturing proudly at the statuette that sat between them.

Cobra's narrow violet eyes became almost slits as he half-glared at Gajeel. "Fan-fucking-tastic," he replied dryly. Before Cobra could spit any other comments, he froze briefly - a look of realization coming to his face. He swiped the diawolf statuette off the desk before bolting for the door. "You're on your own, loser!"

Several of the golems that Gajeel hadn't beheaded came crashing in through the large windows, their magic-fueled eyes burning a sinister red.

"Well, shit," Gajeel spat. He was out the door only moments before a giant stone fist saw fit to reduce the desk beside him to splinters.

Gajeel caught up to his partner after only a few minutes of slogging through underbrush - it really wasn't hard at all to track someone who smelled of bleach and leather, after all.

"Remind me to rip up all the weeds and shit around my house when we're done here, I'm getting sick of plants," he grumbled as he pulled up behind Cobra. "You even know where we're going?"

"Of course I do, we're going to the client’s to return this damn statue," the redhead spat back at the straggler, holding up their stolen prize.


 

Little did either of the dragons know their hard work would be rewarded with the penalty of reduced pay, due to property damage. Cobra had some idea of the reduction, he could hear that news of a destroyed mansion had reached Lord Taillefer.

Still, even with that news, Cobra seemed oddly... calm; almost smug. Reduced pay should have sent his temper boiling over the edge, but instead he strolled along with his cut of the Jewel in hand.

Gajeel, on the other hand, was pissed beyond belief. He stomped along behind Cobra as if the ground itself denied him his prize, glaring at his boots the whole way. "And another thing, you give up way too easily!" Gajeel said suddenly, continuing a long-lost conversation. "We needed that cash, you know! And who the hell does that guy think he is with his poofy-ass pants and pink fedoras, huh?" The string of vitriol quickly descended into incoherent grumbling as Gajeel again lost track of his argument.

"Relax, moron," Cobra replied, pocketing his cash. "We'll be back in a month or so for a monster slaying job." His words were very assured of that fact.

Aside from the iron dragon's occasional outburst, the two walked on in almost-comfortable silence. They could return at least partially successful from their very first mission together and prove their worth to the guild.

At least Fairy Tail didn't destroy the client's house this time.

Chapter 4: Team Bonding

Chapter Text

"For dragons, there is no set mating season. Specific criteria must first be met: a dragon must be of mating age, be able to fend off rivals, and they must be around dragons who are also considered to be of mating age. " ~ Dragon Historia, pg 21

 

Chapter Four: Team Bonding

If Gajeel could melt into the woodwork and disappear at will, he would take the opportunity to completely ignore that ability and punch this bitch in the face. Their return should have been victorious, but instead the two Dragonslayers were treated to a lengthy lecture about property destruction, responsibility, and timeliness. Erza had plenty of time to prepare her speech, too; Cobra and Gajeel elected to walk back to Magnolia rather than take the train resulting in a delay of a few days.

"Fairy Tail has enough trouble keeping out of trouble with the Council without you two blowing up clients," the exquip mage said sternly, waving a Sorceror Weekly bearing the wreckage of a destroyed cliffside manor at Gajeel and Cobra. "If you're going to destroy someone else's home before returning, you might as well not come home at all."

"At least we ain't as bad as Salamander's crew..." Gajeel muttered, earning himself a vicious glare. Erza easily sailed past his interruption, however, and continued by waving a new job request in Cobra's face.

"Lord Taillefer, your client's mansion has been devastated. The roof was shorn clear off, there's not a single stone left unturned, and now there's a monster running amok in those fields - chasing down bystanders! What have you to say for yourselves?" Erza scolded, pinning Cobra with a dreadful glare.

The other redhead was unphased by the woman's war-laden words. In fact Cobra stood there, a bored expression painted on his flat face. He would have loved nothing more than to look up at Erza's stern face and tell her to piss off. Instead he turned that emotion inwards on himself, a smarmy smirk spreading across his own face. Setting off the slightly taller woman would do him no good; not here, not now. "I know you know that the mansion wasn't us," he finally said. "You've fought me before, you know how I fight. I like to see shit rot and die - blowing things up isn't my usual M.O. You know I wouldn't fuck up like that, and you know I wouldn't let numbnuts over here do it either. I can hear-"

"Yes, I know you can hear things," Erza cut him off, obviously tired of the Dragonslayer's line. She held up her hand to cut Gajeel off before he could even open his mouth. "And I know there were 'complications' with security golems-"

You just really like to look like the scolding motherly type. Cobra sighed.

"- That's what happens when you get involved in the black market. Your client must have aggravated someone important; he's gone missing, and his home was the first hit by that beast. Our job is to stop the monster and find Lord Taillefer. Now, I don't expect you to get along-"

"Whoa, hold up!" Gajeel butted in, confusion creasing his brow. "What do you mean, 'our' job? The fuck are you, some sorta babysitter?"

Cobra held up a hand, also interjecting. "Weirdly, I'm with freak-face over here on this one," he jutted a thumb at Gajeel. "I'll tolerate teaming up with you, but him and you, at once?"

"Cobra, your 'knowledge' of the black market and crime underworld will be useful," Erza stated factually. "And Gajeel- Well," her voice trailed, "I assigned you two together as a probationary team!" She straightened herself, confident that she had covered her bases.

Before Gajeel could work out how exactly this was an insult Erza had already made her way to the door, dragging both Dragonslayers by their wrists.


One train ride and a thoroughly disgruntled Gajeel later, and they were right back where they came from.

The trio was deposited at a station beside a meagerly populated village, behind which sat a forested hillock. At least, formerly forested. A huge swathe of trees lay uprooted across the hill, leading to the ruins of a stately mansion. Closer at hand, bits and pieces of various buildings had been ripped up and thrown clear across town. Even as the Fairies stepped into the street, masses of civilians hustled past them to board the train, panicked children and half-packed suitcases in tow.

"What, did we already miss the party?" Gajeel asked. His nose twitched as the scent of unfamiliar wet fur wafted past, mixed with the dust and despair that trailed off past the city limits. "Looks like we just missed our mark."

"Then the beast was just here," Erza nodded. "Cobra, can you hear anything?"

There was no reply.

Erza turned back to the station platform. "Cobra?"

"I don't know, can I hear anything?" Cobra shrugged, stepping off the platform with a stretch. "Y'know, I could've sworn I heard someone was getting tired of my 'hearing things'"

The Fairy Queen shot the Demon General a look that was only meant to drive home the fact that he wasn't the one with senior authority here. You dare challenge me? her inner voice sounded. And the Demon General's bored return of the look showed how many fucks he gave about such a thing. The meeting of defiant glances went on in silence for a second, before, finally, Cobra rolled his eyes.

"Two klicks out of town, north by north-west," he said. "It sounds like it's fast and very good at jumping."

Oblivious to the duel of the egos, Gajeel took a few steps in the direction Cobra pointed, sniffing as he went. "Smells like ass. The thing didn't leave long ago, if we run... Well, we could probably catch up when it gets tired and takes a nap. That is, unless you don't mind being left behind, Your Majesty." A toothy grin stretched across Gajeel's face, and he cocked his head back at the poison dragon. "The two of us could make it in no time without all that armor holding us back."

"Watch your tongue," Titania warned Kurogane.

Cobra frowned, then looked off into the distance. His left ear twitched. "One and a half klicks out. North."

Erza nodded, her focus off of smacking Gajeel, taking that information in. "So it's circling back towards the town. We can scout up ahead and set a trap for it."


Cobra gave a short sigh through his flat nose, but said nothing as he walked down the ruined street. He only smirked lightly. There wasn't any way to simply set a trap for this monster, and he knew it. It was a Diawolf. They were, as he had said, good at being very fast and jumping very high. They could surprise it, but not much beyond that. His own amusement aside, he was waiting for the monster to show up and was playing the part of bait. At first he'd been insulted by the idea; then he came to accept it.

What better bait for a monster than someone who looked injured? A one-armed guy his size would certainly look like an easy meal.

Atop opposite roofs lining the street Cobra strode upon, Gajeel and Erza hurried into place. They each took position fifty feet in front of Cobra, hidden in holes in the architecture. Erza stood ready, eyes on the horizon, while Gajeel prepared several spring-loaded spikes to trip up the monster on arrival.

Judging by the size of what looked like footprints that engulfed entire roads, the iron dragon doubted anything they held could keep the monster contained. Still, humoring Titania would be worth it to see her frustration when her plan fell down around her.

It took only minutes for the distant sound of rumbling to grow nearer, steadily approaching as the treeline on the horizon started to shudder and bend beneath an awesome force. When the last tree buckled and kneeled, a massive furred figure emerged from the woods. At first it stood and surveyed the land before it, then when satisfied it charged upon the town, closing the intervening miles by leaps and bounds.

It finally stopped in a side-street, sending up a cloud of dust as it landed. A low growl permeated the air.

Cobra covered one of his ears with his good hand, trying to lessen the noise. The creature was going to attack from behind, so he didn't turn around when the shadow fell over the ruined cobble.

From their perches, Gajeel and Erza had a view of the monster at the end of the street. Massive, with white fur, lanky appendages, and a smushed face akin to a wolf and bat. Its body was incredibly thin and slobber escaped its mangled excuse for jaws. When it stepped, the ground shook.

Gajeel could feel the structure shifting beneath him as the beast neared. He braced himself, keenly aware of the building's instability, of how any sudden movement or loose shingle could give away his location. Fortunately the monster's full attention was on Cobra.

It did not notice the brief flash of light as Erza requipped her Black Wing Armor, nor the glint of steel as Gajeel readied his scales.

It did, however, notice the quiet shish as scores of steel spikes sprung from all around its feet and closed inwards.

But the monster was not there when the spikes met in the middle of the road.

Erza swore under her breath and leapt out from her hiding place, sword in hand and armored wings spread behind her. "Where has it gone?" she shouted, fruitlessly scanning the rooftops around them. How could something that large just disappear? "Cobra, report!" But just as the order left her lips, it was no longer necessary.

A massive cloud of dust was kicked up by the shaking earth when the beast landed in front of the poison dragon. Cobra dove out of the way, rolling onto his feet as the monster again jumped skywards. Ears perking, he called out: "It's coming over to you, Scarlet!"

The earth shook, but that didn't deter the Fairy Queen from swinging her blades at the monster's heels. It dodged quickly, streaking around a ruined building and launching into the air again.

"Gajeel, he's coming to you!" Cobra called.

Rather than dodge or even attempt to move out of the way, Gajeel planted himself firmly in the middle of the road. His stance wide, steel scales skittered across his body, encasing him in thick armor. He clapped his hands together above his head, sending a razor-sharp column of steel shooting five feet in the air which coalesced moments later into a large blade that encompassed both of his arms.

"Got it!" Gajeel shouted back with a smug grin, just before the monster fell out of the sky. It landed right on target and let out wild howl as its front paw impaled itself on the iron dragon's blade.

"Move in, now- Woah!" Gajeel's command was cut off when the monster lifted its bloody foot, pulling Gajeel with it. With a forceful swing the beast freed itself and sent the iron dragon slayer crashing into the street a few blocks away. It grunted as it set the injured foot back down and turned its attention back on Cobra.

It was thinking.

"Shit." Cobra's eyes widened and he dodged another blow. So the thing still had enough smarts to know it was him calling out its movements? Even with his ears telling him when and where to go, it was hard matching the creature's fast movements. Even harder with one arm out of commission. The creature let out a howl and forced Cobra to try to cover his sensitive ears, wincing from the harsh noise. But that slight pause was all that was needed for the monster to scoop up the Dragonslayer in one of its clawed hands.

And then it popped Cobra into its wide bloody maw and swallowed him whole, letting out a victoriously mangled howling roar.

"Cobra!!" Erza shouted, seconds too late. Regardless of Cobra's past affiliations, one teammate lost was one too many. Erza braced herself and charged at the beast with deadly intent, fully prepared to shift course should it jump again. However, the beast's bum paw kept it grounded.

By the time Gajeel made it back, Erza and the beast were locked in a standoff, Titania's swords matched by the beast's scythe-like claws. There was no sign of Cobra, only a smug monster toying with their teammate. "Where'd that little shit get off to...?" he muttered as he scanned the surrounding area. If Titania's cockiness were anything to go by she could handle the monster herself, but it would all be on Gajeel if he let something happen to his probationary teammate.

"Gajeel, get over here!"

"Fuck," Gajeel swore loudly and summoned his blade arm before diving into the fray. They could find Cobra after they dealt with the monster.

Between the two Fairies, the monster found itself pushed into a corner. It was growing desperate, enraged, its attacks more frenzied. The cuts and gashes were beginning to stack up, but its stamina only seemed to increase. That was, until it froze mid-attack - its eyes widening as it let out an agonizing shriek.

Erza took that moment to slice her blade into the side of the monster's heel, severing a tendon and sending the giant beast toppling backwards.

Dust flew up on impact and all that remained were the sounds of its pained growls and yelps that echoed across the ruined town. Slowly the dust settled, dying down with the noises of the creature, leaving only the sight of the Fairies' quarry laid out on its back, its tongue lolling out of its mouth as sickly gurgles escaped it.

The monster finally quieting, Erza surveyed the still corpse. "It's dead," she stated, taking a step closer to the body and prodding it with her sword's tip to make sure.

Suspicious, Gajeel followed suit and kicked the thing's thigh. "Hell, if it woulda been that easy, we didn't need you babysitting us," Gajeel said. "And where the hell did Cobra go, anyway. You lose sight of him?"

"Gajeel, he's-"

A sudden gurgling and the onset of a rancid stench cut Erza off. Both remaining Fairies jumped back from the corpse, weapons at the ready, but the beast did not wake. Its stomach, now bloated and stretched thin, rose and quivered, then split open with a sickening pop. A red steam rose from the belly of the beast, followed by a clawed hand grasping at the sky for freedom.

The hand grappled aimlessly at the air for a few seconds before sinking claws down into the outer flesh of the creature, Cobra pulling himself half-way out before stopping to gasp for breath. He was shirtless, covered in blood and who knew what else, and his skin was littered with scales. Having his fill of fresh air he wriggled his way out, sliding out of the corpse and onto the ground with a wet plop.

"...In the monster's stomach," Erza finished, covering up her surprise at the poison dragon's return with a cough.

Gajeel, however, wasn't so calm. An oddly misplaced relief flooded him, and he masked it the only way he knew how. "You- The fuck you doin' in there? We were supposed to be fighting that piece of shit, not taking it out on a dinner date!" he growled, but his agitation was short-lived. The stench of bile and acid wafted out just after Cobra and hit Gajeel full in the face. He clutched at his nose and reeled back, trying desperately to fan the scent away from himself. "The hell, you smell like you crapped yourself!"

Cobra shakily got to his feet, the monster's innard juices and what was left of his clothing, sans his red leather pants, dissolving away on his dragon scales. He grappled his heavily scarred shoulder, his scales finally receding back into his smooth chestnut skin. "Not another fucking word," Cobra hissed at Gajeel, ushering the end of that feces-based discussion before it started. All he wanted to do now was take a shower and put a shirt on, he felt terribly exposed.

But Erza held out her hand, signaling for them to both stop. "The mystery of where you were is solved. But no one's going anywhere until we figure out what happened to Lord Taillefer and why this beast was here."

"Titania," Cobra half-growled, "Taillefer is dead."

"You heard him?"

"Better yet," Cobra gave a wide, teetering grin and motioned back to the monster with a nod of his head, "I just crawled out of his guts."

"Now is not the time to be funny, Cobra," Erza warned. Lacking the patience to deal with an unruly Dragonslayer, she elbowed her way past Cobra. "If you will not remain professional until the job is complete, then I-"

But she stopped dead in her tracks, all chastising thoughts chases away by the sight before her. The monster was missing. In its place lay the lifeless body of Lord Taillefer, covered in all the same cuts and gashes and laying in a pool of blood. The body was utterly naked, and its rigid hands clung to a small statuette; the very same object Taillefer sent Cobra and Gajeel to recover days before. Erza knelt by Taillefer's corpse and pressed her thumb to his neck. When there was no pulse to be felt, she passed her hand over his eyes, pulling his eyelids shut.

"Heh, looks like he had some pretty shit luck," Gajeel said as Erza rose to her feet. "Guess he won't be calling us back.

"Gajeel, Cobra, there's a hotel the next town over. Wait for me there," Erza ordered, dismissing Gajeel's comment. "I will take care of the body and inform the mayor."

Gajeel went to interject: "But-"

"Now."


He'd lost track of his teammates, but Gajeel was glad to be back at the guild. It was quieter than usual, with less noisy assholes milling about. Even the jumbled mass of tables and upturned chairs was straightened into an orderly line leading to a stately gold throne at the head of the hall. Gajeel found the addition of a throne mildly perplexing, but the confusion soon passed; clearly the Fairies had heard of his victory against the Diawolf and had it installed in his honor. His ego bolstered, Gajeel strutted up the aisle and took his seat on the throne of gold.

Before the iron dragon could really get settled, Natsu approached bearing his usual shit-eating smile and a platter of gold and silver chains.

"The fuck do you want, Salamander?" Gajeel said by way of greeting, throwing in a nasty glare for good measure.

"We heard how you kicked that monster's ass, so I brought you a snack!" Natsu replied, brimming with excitement.

Gajeel scrutinized the mouthwatering display, not entirely convinced. It wasn't like Natsu to admit someone's greatness without first demanding a fight, but that was one damn impressive meal...

Perhaps noticing Gajeel's hesitation, Natsu held the platter out in front of him. "Eat it all up so you can be at full energy, I want to see first-hand how you took down that beast!"

Food and punching Salamander in the face? Now that was more like it! Gajeel grabbed a handful of the chains and shoved it in his mouth. He sat back as he chewed noisily, content with his lot in life. The alpha dragon, catered to by his lessers, with a superbly comfortable and entirely edible throne to call home.

While Gajeel was busy lording it up, the hall's front doors slammed open and in walked Cobra. The poison dragon was just as shirtless and just as grumpy as when he'd fallen out of Lord Taillefer's stomach, though his bum arm seemed to have healed up nicely. He strode up the aisle with purpose in his gait, utterly oblivious to the lack of chaos about him. When he reached Gajeel's throne, Cobra batted Natsu out of the way and took his place in front of the iron dragon, arms crossed over his bare chest.

Gajeel would have been irked at the sound of so many delicious necklaces clattering across the floor, but he found the display in front of him more welcome and distracting. "Lose your way, Slitherfuck?"

No sooner had the words left Gajeel's mouth did Cobra come closer, crossing the short distance between them with a few fast strides and sliding into a straddle across the iron dragon's lap. He pressed his half-naked body up flush against Gajeel and wrapped his arms around the back of the Fairy Dragon King's neck, locking lips with Gajeel in a hungry kiss. When he finally pulled away, Cobra locked eyes with Gajeel and breathed lowly: "Welcome back."

For his part, Gajeel was far too surprised to react until the kiss was broken.

What in the world had just happened?

Was Cobra trying to poison him with some new mouth-to-mouth venom?

And why were his hands wandering so willingly down Cobra's back? Rather than question it, Gajeel allowed his hands to roam across taut muscles and across the hem of unwanted pants.


He awoke to find his hands stuffed down his own pants, bedsheets tangled around his legs.

"Whuh? Where's the food?" Gajeel murmured. He cast a bleary eye around the room to find he was still in the hotel, waiting on Erza. Cobra wasn't even back from his shower yet, Gajeel could still smell the wafting scent of monster barf and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

Cobra. Gajeel had that alpha dream before, it was by far his favorite, but he had never seen Cobra in it. It left him more confused than anything.

Chapter 5: Stroll

Chapter Text

"Each breed of dragon has a scent unique to their element, and individual dragons have scents unique to their territories... Dragons may expect to track down a potential mate by tracking their smell." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 4 + 22

 

Chapter Five: Stroll

Warmth. Comfort, taut excitement, and warmth.

Not the kind of warmth of the sun or that of sitting too long by a fire, but the warmth of a tightly-wrapped blanket and a close embrace. It wasn't a warmth Gajeel was used to, but it flooded his every nerve. The tightness he felt also began to spread from his core out to his fingers, skittering its way across his scalp and down the back of his neck; but then, it wasn't the rush of fear or adrenaline that he was accustomed to.

Gajeel opened his eyes, no longer content to revel in the rush of sensation. The guild hall spread out before him, as orderly as he usually imagined it. Fairies flocked about, most minding their own business, while those he lorded over knelt before his throne with platters of gold and silver held above them.

He looked down to survey his wealth, but his attention was caught by a mess of red hair in his lap. Cobra kneeled before him, his head nestled between Gajeel's legs, the half-naked poison dragon fully engrossed in his duties. Cobra's head bobbed slowly up and down in a smooth swing, and Gajeel saw himself between Cobra's lips.

Cobra looked up at Gajeel with a full mouth, violet glance meeting red, before sliding the iron dragon's rod out with a soft wet pop. He began to lift it up slightly and started to lick the base, fangs exposed as he let his tongue trail up the shaft and lap the head - not once breaking eye contact.

The Alpha's breath stuck in his throat when he realized the position he was in. The warmth he felt suddenly made sense and coalesced into a burning heat in his loins. Gajeel saw his fingers thread themselves through Cobra's hair and gently guide the redhead, pressing and pulling faster, deeper, holding him longer. Lines of drool streaked Gajeel's skin, chill in the cool air for the few seconds his flesh was exposed, before Cobra's mouth again descended to wrap him in a fervid embrace.

It was too much. Gajeel closed his eyes and pulled Cobra's face flush against his groin, both his hands knotted in crimson locks. His stomach clenched, the heat overtook him...

... and he woke with a start.

Gajeel was in the guild, face-down on a rickety table in a puddle of his own drool. A drunken brawl swirled around him, chairs and obscenities and cats flying through the air. No one noticed him wake, nor did they seem to realize he had even slept. How he could have drifted off was even beyond him, considering the noise itself was enough to wake the dead. The iron dragon pressed his palms to his eyes to chase away the last vestiges of his unbidden dream. This marked the second time his favorite fantasy had been marred by his partner, though this time around he couldn't help but wonder how the dream might have finished.

Hopefully with him finishing, for once.

When the green spots behind his eyelids finally burned away the images he woke with, Gajeel let his hands drop. He surveyed the guild, looking for anyone or anything he could fight to take his mind off that fantasy, but his search was cut short when he saw the front door open.

In walked Cobra with that short, purple-haired bar chick in tow. They chatted amiably, the poison dragon looking far more warm and trusting than his usual venomous demeanor, and more the peaceful gaiety of two long-time friends. They then glanced at the ruckus and brawl, with Cobra shaking his head at it, before she made her way over to the bar. Cobra offered a wave goodbye and even smiled, which seemed such a foreign gesture that even from the distance Gajeel was at the expression seemed extremely awkward on Cobra. Sickeningly awkward, but Gajeel would be damned if it wasn't kinda cute.

Bar-fly or no, Gajeel needed some air. The frustration and confusion cloyed his mind, rendered him incapable even of formulating his favorite insults. He stood and rushed for the door, roughly pushing past Cobra with only a bitter glare for greeting.

Maybe a walk would clear his head.


He had been on edge far more than usual lately. While he normally had a distaste for Old Style breeds, Cobra found himself feeling particularly more combative towards the guild's more established Dragonslayers... that little girl Wendy excluded. His probationary teammate could use a swift kick in the skull, and it seemed that every which way Cobra turned there was Natsu - screeching "FIGHT ME" at the top of his lungs with a stupid grin on his face. But since the redhead was trying to avoid jail, that left him only to bury his instincts and seethe in his own anger.

It was becoming more and more difficult without his beloved Cuberos.

He could ignore his baser instincts, he'd been trained to do that since he was a child and it came almost second nature to him sometimes. But without Cuberos, without his snake, without that mental link to another living being whom he could pour out all his unwanted emotions into, he felt trapped by it. It felt like his poison was eating him from the inside out.

It was weird, the first time he had felt it. It was like a little flicker of light had gone off inside his head, and for a few seconds afterwards he felt better. Back to feeling like he wasn't alone in a sea of imbeciles. It didn't take long for him to figure out that it happened most near the bar, and usually during shifts that purple-haired girl was working. Did he like her? Cobra wasn't sure. He didn't think he liked her; he wasn't good with understanding his own emotions, or at least the ones he was trained not to need. But this girl... it felt like he'd known her his whole life.

And when he overheard Mirajane talking to her one afternoon - it clicked.

"Kinana Cuberos," Cobra said, leaning against the back of the deck chair. He idly played with the straw in his drink, though he did not remove the glass from the cafe table. "Didn't stray much from that name, huh."

"It was the only name I could remember," Kinana replied sheepishly into her own cup, sipping on iced tea. "So... it was what I went by when I came here..." Jade eyes looking down into her drink; Cobra could hear she didn't remember much.

"You don't... you don't have to feel like you have to talk to me, if you don't want to," he paused, "Just... knowing you're okay, it means a whole lot more than you know." He went to lean his elbow on the table, ultimately deciding against the movement when his arm burned with pain; he might have been out of the sling, but he didn't have full movement yet.

Kinana looked up at him. "I just feel like I'm meeting my long lost brother-kina," she offered a smile. "So, tell me all you can about yourself-kina."

"Like what?"

"Well-kina," she tapped a finger on her chin, "What do you go by now? I know it's not Eri-"

"Please," Cobra interjected before she could finish uttering that name, "Call me 'Cobra' now. Please."

"Your name bothers that much-kina?"

Cobra drew in a breath and held it for a moment before sighing. "Yes."

"Okay then, Cobra it is, Cobra-nii," Kinana again smiled. He could hear that she was opening up more, and he could feel that old link in his head again. "Is it 'nii', how old are you?"

"Eighteen, I think," he replied, folding his arms over his chest. He really wasn't sure; he didn't remember his own birthday and even if he did he wouldn't dare make a celebration out of it.

"Ah, well then do you mind if I still call you 'nii'-kina?" Kinana asked, swirling her straw in her drink. "I think I'm twenty-kina..."

Across town, the bells of Cardia Cathedral chimed; low tones and soft high chimes mixing together to announce the time of day to the residents of Magnolia. It was midday, so the chorus lasted a whole two minutes long with twelve loud rings of the largest bell. Cobra shifted uncomfortably, his eyes clenched shut as he tolerated the noise.

"I should be getting back to work, the lunch rush is due soon-kina..." Kinana then looked to Cobra again, noting his discomfort. "Are you okay? Were the bells too loud-kina?"

"The bells were fine," Cobra shook his head and offered a small smile. "I should be used to them by now."

Kinana got up, grabbing Cobra's drink as she did so. "That's terrible that you can't turn off your ears or something-kina."

"Kinda hard to turn off an inherited magic."

"Those are the kind of magics that get passed down from your parents, right-kina? I'm still so new to understanding the whole magic world," Kinana headed for doors, with Cobra rising to follow after her.

Inside the guild was an expected chaos, loud shouting with the occasional crack of breaking furniture and glass. Another guild-wide brawl had started.

"I think I preferred the bells," Cobra muttered dryly.

"But you knew it was coming-kina," Kinana teased. "I'll see you later, Cobra-nii. I have dishes to take care of-kina."

"See you," he smiled and waved... just before being shouldered aside by Gajeel. Who from all the cacophony around, was blasting an inner voice of irate and unfounded jealousy and smelled of musk and sweat. Cobra was jostled by the brute and a low hiss escaped him, primal and animal-like - his good mood thrown off.

What the fuck was that moron's problem now.


What the fuck was that asshole's problem, anyway? Gajeel couldn't figure it out, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

They were only teammates, and hardly even that; once the probationary period was over, Gajeel never had to interact with that asshole again. Yet the more he thought about it, the less Gajeel wanted the team to break up. He couldn't get Cobra's damn scent out of his nose. Alluring was the only word for it.

The iron dragon took to the streets in the hopes of clearing his head. Hands shoved firmly in his pockets, he stalked the streets and alleys of Magnolia until the chill of night sought him out. Metallicana had told him this would happen one day. As much as he couldn't stand the thought of it, it was the only thing that resembled a rational explanation.

Gajeel needed a cold shower, and a stiff drink. Maybe dear ol' fucking dad was wrong and this would all blow over by morning.

Chapter 6: A Friendly Chat

Chapter Text

"Dragons have the unique ability to breed with other species. Historically known cross-breedings have occurred with Human, Elven, and Demon races. The resulting hybrids are known as Dragonkin, who are equally renowned as Dragonslayers." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 98

 

Chapter Six: A Friendly Chat

There were things, ever so rare as they were, that surprised him when they reached his ears. These things made him afraid, made him angry, or some strange combination of the two.

One such thing had caught his attention, and had simply made him angry.

And so Cobra lay in wait, just outside of the guild's front gates, leaning back against the stone wall with arms folded and mood sour. No one talked to him on their way by; if they bothered to glance at him, he either responded with an annoyed look or simply glared. Though he had only been there a month and was not usually one to socialize, many Fairies could safely hazard a guess of what would happen if one messed with Cobra's temper.

3...

He could hear his target exiting the guild hall.

2...

The target was almost to the gates. He could hear that the target could smell him.

1...

Cobra grabbed the side of the golden gate, swinging himself around with an agile form... and kicked Gajeel right in his unsuspecting face. The iron dragon knocked back into the courtyard, the poison dragon glowered over him - not pleased in the least bit.

"Stay the fuck away from her, jackass," Cobra hissed, defined fangs exposed.

The glare Gajeel returned was dampened by the hand pinched to his nose to stem the flow of blood. "The fuck are you talking about?" he asked in a nasally growl. "There's quite a few 'hers' here ya know. I don't got that fancy-ass ear magic like you do."

"You've been tailing me and Kinana for the last two days!"

"...Oh." He'd thought he had been sneaky enough, but if the snake had heard about it, then there was no use lying to cover it up. "Right, that. Gimme a moment."

Gajeel took his hand off his bleeding nose and ripped a thin strip of cloth off the bottom of his ragged tunic, then rolled the strip into a tight wad. Satisfied with his makeshift plug, he promptly stuffed the rolled cloth up his nostril. The flow of blood seemed to abate.

"Alright, where were we?" Gajeel briefly considered making up some excuse, but knew that it wouldn't help anything. Besides, Cobra would know if he was lying anyway. "Yeah, I was tailing you. Never seen you friendly with anyone and that girl's been here longer'n you have. She's usually the one serving my drinks, too. Figured I'd see just what it was that made you tick outside of battle, so we could fight together better next time. Maybe we could go a job without one of us getting eaten, then."

Cobra folded his arms over his chest. "What I do when I'm not stuck with you is none of your damn business, scrap-breath." He stepped closer. "How I 'tick' outside of battle is also none of your damn business."

"It sure as hell is my business if my wage is on the line, shit-for-brains." Gajeel closed the distance between them and clenched his fists, ready for the fight that should be coming. Seconds from striking, however, he let out a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. "Look, I ain't here to fight. Do you seriously think you can pull off sticking around here all alone? Better me than some other dumb shit snooping around."

His ears perked and Cobra narrowed his eyes. "Why are you holding back, shark-nose?" His questioning of his teammate was cut short as he suddenly leaned to the side and stuck out his leg, his shoe landing right into a charging Natsu's face. "Speaking of dumb shits," he said, Cobra not moving his demanding gaze from Gajeel. "Get out of here, Natsu."

Natsu pulled himself away. "You guys were gonna fight, so I want in on it!" he pounded one of his fists into an open palm, flames erupting from the gesture as he grinned eagerly.

Cobra pulled his leg down to stand again. "I don't spar," he stated as he turned to face the fire dragon.

A deep, guttural growl sounded behind Cobra's ear. Gajeel thrust himself between the two mages, his careful posture from before melted away into something much more fierce and defensive. "Back off, Salamander," the iron dragon rumbled. "This one's mine."

The primal growl caught him off-guard and a fierce heat rose to Cobra's cheeks, a tingling sensation spreading through his body. He forced a scowl, trying to stave off the sudden blush. Wh-why the hell am I blushing?!

A confused frown overtook Natsu's features, his eyes flitting between Cobra and Gajeel. Normally Gajeel would share his fights with him, and he'd rarely seen the former Phantom so serious as of late. After a moment of brief consideration, Natsu's grin returned in full force. "Fine, but I get to fight the winner!"

Gajeel snorted, which then turned into an idle sniff. And then another. And then another. Something smelled good.

Cobra turned to again wheel on Gajeel - only to pause, noting with surprise the slight tendrils of red smoke rising from under his shirt. In his effort to not blush, he hadn't noticed patches of his scales emerging! "F-forget it," he grumbled, the red painting his cheeks now from embarrassment at his lack of magical control. He roughly pushed past the iron dragon and headed for the guild, small tatters of clothing flaking off of him.


Fairy Tail had two locker rooms, a red one for the women and a blue one for the men. Each mage got their own locker, to store things like spare clothes or towels or other toiletries while they used the public showers or the saunas.

Thankfully the locker room was mostly empty, so no one noticed when Cobra came in wearing a rapidly dissolving shirt.

The only thing he had that was enchanted enough to withstand the corrosive acid of his dragon scales happened to be his red pants - so it was a good thing he usually kept a spares of other clothing and shoes in his locker. He hated showing skin in public places, locker rooms and showers were very much included on that list, so Cobra slid off his white coat and left it on the bench while he took to one of the toilet stalls to change.

He pulled off what was left of his black long-sleeved shirt, which was not much more than patches and threads. Taking a breath he attempted to calm the maroon and violet scales that littered his skin, a few more breaths being required before they obeyed him. Sure that he was in control of his magic again, he slid the clean, un-scathed shirt on.

That task done, he exited the stall and tossed his ruined garment into the trash.


Cobra was well gone before Gajeel made it inside to see what the hell was wrong. It had taken so long to shake Natsu off that Cobra's scent trail had grown cold.

The locker room was entirely empty, the mixed odors of soap and exhausted, sweaty mages filling the vacant space. Gajeel, frustrated and restless, plopped onto a log bench with a heavy thud. He could still smell the poison dragon amidst the concentrated stench of Fairies, agitated, and... something else. The same scent that enticed and confused Gajeel when Cobra fled. He couldn't place the scent, and the sauna steams had long since dispersed what remained of it.

In an effort to discover just what it was that captured his interest, Gajeel shut his eyes and took a deep breath, dissecting each scent around him in turn. He could tell Nab had been through here and Max before him - several times. Freed had passed through, perhaps an hour earlier, followed by a haze of cleansing chemicals and rosemary. Even the mild wood rot wafted over everyone else. Nearly every surface besides the trashcan fought to obscure Cobra's presence.

Wait, the trashchan? It was seldom used but for soap wrappers and the occasional empty shampoo bottle, but it smelled as if Cobra had jumped inside and hid there. Gajeel's eyes flitted open and he stood to stalk toward his prey. Slowly he craned over the trashcan, as if his quarry might jump out at him, only to find the tattered remnants of Cobra's clothes wadded up inside.

His disappointment only further frustrated Gajeel. What was he expecting, a rival in a pretty bow? A punch to the face? Whatever it was, it wasn't a pile of half-melted rags. But even that response seemed out of character for the reclusive Dragonslayer - Cobra was too much of a control freak to let one of Natsu's annoyances draw out his scales. Gajeel gingerly grabbed a fistful of the cloth and held it up to his nose, sniffing out any reason he could find.

All this guesswork just wasn't his style; Gajeel was much more used to dragging the answers out of people face to face. With the remains of Cobra's shirt in hand, Gajeel turned his back on the sauna and set out into the night. The crisp air of Magnolia's outskirts preserved scent much better, and it took no time at all for him to find the trail he needed.

Gajeel would knock at Cobra's door, and he knew he wouldn't leave until he had the answer he sought.

Chapter 7: First Time

Notes:

Chapter contains smut. Skip to next chapter to avoid direct dick action.

Credit to Catnappe for the image below. (Commissioned by co-author and added with permission.)

Chapter Text

"... Young adult dragons of mating age may put on an elemental display of aggression towards rivals and even potential mates, signaling that they are strong and viable candidates looking for partners." ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 69

 

Chapter Seven: First Time

It was a small bathroom, if it could be called that.

The shower poured down onto his head, the hot water relaxing his body while the water dulled his ears. Whispers and telling echoes became background noise and mumbles, faded out by the static-like sound of the shower on his skull. The world was a relieving steamy haze... if only for the time that Cobra was in the shower.

It was a small bathroom, of a... barely decent hotel room. He hadn't saved up enough to make a payment on a place of his own to rent yet; every place wanted first month's rent plus fees up front. Buying was out of the question. At first he'd briefly wondered if he could have just squatted at Oracion Castle; then he became insulted at the idea of squatting in a place that was once his home. The Council probably wasn't even done gutting the place, considering their usual dead snail pace.

He had gone from living in a castle to scraping by in a shitty hotel room.

He had to swallow his pride and take to doing things the shitty legal way, which included being paired with some shitty Old Style breed.

And after his magic had started acting up recently?

Another ten minutes in the shower sounded good.

Cobra opened his eyes, exhaustedly annoyed by the sound that had disturbed him. He briefly debated writing it off as someone in another room, but his need to know the source of the sound compelled him to shut off the water. Doing so, he paused - listening.

Someone was in his room. Touching his stuff. He knew exactly who it was.

"He's fucking dead," Cobra growled lowly, jumping out of the shower and quickly wrapping a towel around himself.

He threw open the bathroom door, to find Gajeel standing next to the bed, going through Cobra's tote and with Cobra's red pants in his hands.

"Don't you fucking dare," Cobra warned, baring his fangs.

Gajeel idly set the tote down when he heard the bathroom open, but he still held on to the pants. He looked Cobra over, raising a studded brow when he noticed the lack of clothing. Fresh, clean, and damp; complete with wet crimson locks hanging down into his face. The poison dragon carried hardly a trace of that maddening scent from earlier.

"The hell you showering for, didn't you already do that at the guild?" Gajeel asked, returning his attention to the pants. They had yet to be washed, and Gajeel was damned if he couldn't place the scent.

Cobra's frown drew out and he reached to snatch his pants away from the trespasser. "Give me those."

Spotting the approacher out of the corner of his eye, Gajeel held the pants high above his head and twisted around so he could keep an eye on Cobra. "That's not an answer, you ass."

"You're in my room, Metalface, I don't have to give you any answers!" He jumped to try and get at his clothes.

Gajeel took a step back and swung his arm down to hold the pants behind himself in a tight grip. He wouldn't give up his evidence that easily. "Technically it's the hotel's room. Maybe if you'd man up and talk like a grown-up instead of turning pink and running off, I wouldn't have to go snooping around. That lacrima shoved too far up your ass for you to even try fitting in?"

Cobra scowled and that same pink lightly tinged his dark cheeks. "What? Fit in with you? The guild outcast? At least I'm that way by choice, unlike you, you low-breed."

Gajeel bristled under the onslaught, but his rebuttal was cut short when he caught sight of the pink dusting on Cobra's cheeks. There it was again, a shadow of the scent he'd caught earlier...

He waited for Gajeel to flinch from that all-too-close string of insults before he reached out and finally snagged the leg of his pants. "Last thing I need is some fuckin' perv like you stealing my clothes!"

The iron dragon yanked on the pants, in turn pulling Cobra closer to him, and uttered a low growl. "Outcast my ass, if you spent half as much time paying attention to your guild as you do pretending no one else exists then maybe you'd know better."

It wasn't any use for the smaller dragon to try to pull his clothes away, Gajeel was by far the more physically built one - Cobra's forte was agility and precision. Cobra locked eyes with Gajeel, his daring glare shooting through his wet hair. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't flood this room with paralyzing poison right now and throw your drugged ass out on the streets."

"Decency, I'd think?" Gajeel said with a smug grin. "Or is this the spat you were running away from when Natsu interrupted us right when we were getting somewhere? And I'd like to see you throwing me anywhere, twig."

"'Decency,' says the guy who's running around, sniffing my clothes," Cobra snorted, eyeing his melted shirt from earlier sticking out of Gajeel's pocket. "But you want decency? Fine. Please excuse me for asking in the most impolite of ways, Gajeel, but I would really love to know what the fuck your problem is."

"My problem's you not answering that same goddamn question, and this," Gajeel tugged at the pants again in a vague effort to indicate the scent that still clung to them. He trailed off then, suddenly at a loss for how exactly to describe it. He had Cobra's pants; Cobra wasn't wearing pants. Cobra's relative lack of clothing and his wet hair plastered across his face weren't doing anything to help clear Gajeel's head. The opposite, in fact. Cobra looked like a wet cat, a sexy wet cat.

Cobra's ears perked and his whole face reddened, he let go of his grip on his pants to try to cover his naked torso with both his arms. "Wh-why the hell are you lookin' at me like that," he hissed, backing up. He was going to kick himself later for charging out with only a towel on. "And why the hell do you think wet cats are sexy?!"

"Who said you were sexy? Shit, your ego's worse than Sparky's," Gajeel muttered, but after Cobra drew attention to himself something clicked in Gajeel's head. It wasn't as strong as before, but the scent that intrigued him earlier rose just as quickly as the blush in Cobra's cheeks, a heat that he could feel mirrored in his own face.

"I said 'cats'! 'Wet cats'! Not me!" Cobra quickly pointed out.

"Yeah?" Gajeel snorted. "Well I didn't say anything about cats either, and you're the only wet thing here."

The poison dragon sneered, reminded that his only quiet time had been so graciously interrupted. "Give me my pants and get the hell out," he reached to seize his pants and take them away from Gajeel.

More out of habit now than anything, Gajeel held the pants further behind his back and leaned away from Cobra. "Not till you tell me why you're such a stuck-up shit."

"What's that even mean!? Just give them back already!"

He tried to push the iron idiot aside and make one last grab for his pants, but Gajeel had leaned too far back - and the two bickering Dragonslayers toppled onto Cobra's tote and the bed. Gajeel grunted when Cobra landed on top of him.

With the bag digging into his back and a wet redhead laying across his front, Gajeel figured there was no more sense in being polite. He swung his legs up and crossed his ankles over the small of Cobra's back, relying on his brute strength to hold the poison dragon in place. "I'll give your damn pants back when you quit fucking around and talk to me."

Cobra pressed his hands on the bed, thrashed his hips, and kicked his legs in an attempt to free himself, but Gajeel's legs were wrapped too tightly around him. "Talk about what?" he hissed, throwing a glare at Gajeel. He attempted to slide out next, only to feel his towel start to slip off in the process. Cobra's eyes went wide and he went to grab his towel, only to find Gajeel's legs in the way. If he blew a paralyzing breath at the iron dragon, they would both be stuck in the same position until the poison wore off. Cobra was trapped and almost naked. "Just let me get dressed. Then we'll talk, okay?"

Gajeel might have been open for negotiation on that offer, but all that thrashing rubbed a little too close to home. The urge to mimic those motions rose slowly in the back of his mind, and he tightened his grip if only to keep Cobra from distancing himself enough to see the flush coming over him. "What guarantee do I have you won't just drug me and run again?"

The look that came over Cobra's flat features was undeterminable, being part leer and part shock. Gajeel had guessed the outcome of his plan. Just as he was about to quip that he could release a deadly poison instead of one that simply paralyzed - he froze. Something was pressing against his body. He looked down to where their hips touched, but he could feel it through all the cloth.

Gajeel was getting hard.

The same tingling from when Gajeel had growled at Natsu swept through Cobra's body again, his vibrant scales started emerging, and Cobra was - for once - speechless.

Just as it started to sink in that his whole front was now damp from contact with Cobra's bare, dripping chest, Gajeel noticed the scales coming through on Cobra's skin. That could only mean the poison dragon was preparing for a fight.

With little effort Gajeel flipped the two of them over so that he straddled Cobra, pinning him to the bed, but then the overpowering smell of musk filled his nostrils. It was a heavy scent only slightly diluted by the dampness, and tinged with the sweet scent wafting off Cobra's scales.

Gajeel couldn't deny the effect it had on him; his own scales were starting to emerge in patches without his bidding, and the heat below his abdomen was demanding more and more of his attention. Maybe if he just sat for a minute, his blood would stop pumping and cobra would stop smelling so nice...

The blankets of the bed lightly hissed as they began to melt away from where his scales touched. The bed, his tote bag, his... towel; about the only thing that wasn't melting from his acid was the man pinning him.

His poison skin had no effect on those steel scales.

And the worst part was, Cobra was strangely relieved. He knew he should have been more angry and defensive and spit a wad of blinding venom right into Gajeel's face... but it was as if every bone in his body was content to lay there, like the dragon lacrima running through his veins was overriding his normally rational senses.

"Can I get dressed?" he asked one last time, though he already knew the answer. Gajeel's thoughts had become muddled to his ears, Cobra's ears didn't work on instincts. But the idea of those wild instincts and that needy scent in the air was arousing... Dammit, Cobra, this isn't the time! his rational side tried again to remind him, and he shifted uncomfortably to get the weight off of his rising interest.

The only response Gajeel gave was a shallow, dry thrust in response to Cobra shifting beneath him. By now the iron dragon was too enraptured by the curve of Cobra's neck to explain himself further. He hardly noticed the sheets melting away from them, nor his own clothes singeing at the edges. The spot of flesh just above the dip of Cobra's left collarbone drew his attention; Gajeel pressed his nose beneath Cobra's ear and traced the soft skin until shoulder met neck.

Cobra clenched his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists, trying to detract from the sensitive sensation of Gajeel's nose so close to his ear.

The heady scent of acid was punctuated by a warm pulse, a rhythm of copper so unlike any other, Gajeel just had to have it. His lips parted and his tongue flitted out to taste the dip of Cobra's collarbone, savoring each second of contact.

The redhead wasn't sure why Gajeel was so fixated on that spot. But feeling a warm tongue on his damp, chilled skin only sent shivers through him; he hadn't noticed how cold he was before.

It was weird, and the thought that this was some kind of freaky dream briefly crossed his mind.

Were it a dream, Gajeel remembered none so vivid. Were it a dream, he may have skipped straight to acting on his urges.

In person, however, he had a different goal. Ever so lightly Gajeel sunk his teeth into the side of Cobra's neck. Flesh resisted, but didn't give. He slowly bit down harder until he could taste a small bruise forming as he ran his tongue across the sensitive skin.

A small part of him wondered just what drove him to do this, but the voice was drowned out by the knowledge that it felt so right.

Cobra's arms were still pinned, though he managed to slip one hand out from Gajeel's grip and attempt to push the larger man off of his tingling neck. It was no use as Gajeel just grunted and bit down harder. "What the hell are you, a vampire?"

It took a few seconds for the question to pierce Gajeel's clouded mind. He withdrew, his fangs lightly drazing the marked skin, and sat up while straddling Cobra to give him an unamused glare.

"Vampires don't exist, you jerk," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's a thing dragons do."

"You wanna talk about something that's nonexistant; it's dragons that don't exist anymore, you fuckwit."

"Says the guy who believes in vampires. That doesn't even make sense." Gajeel tried to think of a better comeback, but gave up when he decided he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Namely, the bulge beneath Cobra's rapidly shrinking towel that he could feel pressing against his own clothed crotch. In fact, that appeared to be the only part of Cobra which was clothed at all.

Gajeel's eyes traced the curve and dip of Cobra's lithe stomach, and his fingers soon followed, tracing the edges of the splotchy scales that broke out along the poison dragon's skin. Soft white scales followed his fingers along Cobra's stomach, with maroon and violet scales spreading out along Cobra's sides.

It tingled like the spot on his neck, and the tingling spread through Cobra's body. Before he knew it all of his scales had been drawn out, a sensation that he had rarely felt before. But with his arms no longer pinned, Cobra grabbed Gajeel's wrists and held his hands immobile. The tingling stayed focused around Gajeel's metal fingertips. Not used to the feeling, Cobra then threw Gajeel's hands off.

Gajeel didn't mind at first that he didn't get to play with the little scales anymore, for now he had a more enticing view. But now his hands were free again, enough that he could plant his palms on either side of Cobra's head and lean forward to lick at the beautiful mark he'd made.

"The fuck's all this purple shit for, anyway? All you're gonna do is melt your bed. ...And my pants. I kinda needed those, you know."

"I could say the same about your tinfoil skin. And I know it wouldn't be the first time you ruined your clothes and had to streak home," Cobra quipped, pressing a clawed hand against the other's metal forehead and pushing him away from the tender spot.

But then Cobra and Gajeel were face-to-face. Something wasn't right, something in Cobra's mind told him to throw the red-eyed man off of him. You hate being touched. Why are you letting him crawl all over you? But that thought was quickly buried under something else, something Cobra wasn't sure how to handle; and it was building inside of him, welling up the more he could feel Gajeel's breath on his face.

Suddenly, he lifted his head and planted a kiss on Gajeel's lips; it wasn't long, but it also wasn't short. Quickly letting his head fall back against the bed, his fierce blush could be seen coming through his scales. What in the underworld possessed him to do that?

The kiss took Gajeel off guard. He never expected Cobra to be so gentle. He studied the blush creeping across the poison dragon's cheeks, shifted his weight off one of his hands and brushed the tinted scales, then promptly pressed his mouth to Cobra's in a much hungrier kiss. When he pulled back seconds later, Gajeel returned to his usual scowl.

"You know, you really are pretty shit at kissing."

"I think your shark-nose almost poked out my eye."

"Yeah, well your dick's poking out my balls. Would ya move that damn thing already?"

"You're the one on top of me," Cobra replied, smirk spreading across his face. "I would've thought you'd like that kind of thing."

Gajeel had to stop and consider that one for a moment. Before he could decide whether or not it was an insult, he settled for another rough kiss. "Damn right, I am on top," he growled between breathing breaks. "And I would be into you if you'd move your damn legs."

Briefly Cobra tried to come up with some insult about how Gajeel tasted faintly like beer with some weird metallic aftertaste and needed breathmints, but any thought was stopped by another incoming kiss. When that kiss broke, he said: "Again, idiot, you're the one sitting on top of me."

...Right, Cobra was still pinned. Gajeel quickly pulled back, mostly to hide the embarrassed heat rising in his cheeks, and slid lower to free up Cobra's legs. He poked at his partner's thighs to tease them apart, but soon got distracted running his hands over Cobra's taut muscles. "Happy now, jerkwad?"

"No." He pulled up one of his knees and kicked Gajeel in the face; not enough to hurt, but enough to get the other man to stop sticking those cold metal fingers between his legs. Cobra crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Your fingers are like ice."

Gajeel swatted at the scaled foot in his face, sputtering indignantly. It didn't take long for him to get hold of the limb and slide it over his shoulder. "Ice? The fuck are you fantasizing about that stripper for when I'm right here?" At least now he had some good leverage. With Cobra's ankle pinned to the iron dragon's shoulder, Gajeel slowly moved forward so his crotch was flush against Cobra's thigh.

"Hell's bells, you're stupid," the poison dragon muttered, moving his arms down to his sides to steady their combined weight.

With Cobra was steadied, there was nothing stopping Gajeel from grinding against Cobra's rear to relieve his pent-up interest. Not too close, not yet, but he could size himself up against Cobra with the last scrap of cloth dissolved against acid scales. Cobra was a little longer, but Gajeel had much more girth. "Y'know, you don't look that bad yourself. Bit stiff there, eh?"

"Tch..." The poison dragon held his frown, turning his head away to avoid answering or looking at Gajeel. He was completely naked then, and Gajeel was going to be the same way - whether he took off his own clothes or simply let the rest dissolve.

Cobra glanced back to where Gajeel was grinding against him, just in time to see the front of the iron dragon's pants melt away and his rod rub bare between Cobra's legs. Shocked and flustered, Cobra jolted back in an attempt to distance himself.

Gajeel did not yet pursue, but instead took this opportunity to pull off the remnants of his tunic and pants, which fell apart in his hands, the edges still sizzling from prolonged contact with Cobra's scales. His bare stomach was covered in bright steel already discolored by the corroding acid. He took one more detour to kick off his boots before he crawled over Cobra, supporting himself on his hands and knees and leaving enough space between them to better appreciate Cobra's display. "Well? You ready?"

"I-I..." Cobra wanted to close his legs, but Gajeel had already set himself between them. He looked away, feeling his cheeks heat even more. Though he could hear that Gajeel had experience with oral and he knew the basic things... It's his first time?! It certainly wasn't Cobra's; and the less time Cobra thought about that, the better he'd be.

Still, Gajeel wasn't experienced and he was an idiot with a big mouth.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," Cobra said lowly, turning his narrow eyes back to Gajeel. He wasn't sure how he meant it; as a threat or as a warning. Cobra had a reputation to maintain, sure. But if the wrong person heard about their... intimate encounter... then Gajeel could be put in a lot of danger. Though somewhere in the back of his mind Cobra briefly wondered why he cared beyond protecting his own image and not going to jail.

"Not a soul," Gajeel responded with a smirk. He was tempted to protest just to give Cobra a hard time, but he had no reason to share the news nor anyone to share it with.

As it was he now had free access to his mate, a fact he immediately celebrated by running his hands over Cobra's chest. The acidic scales that had cropped up earlier were beginning to retreat, leaving behind smooth, chestnut skin that tensed beneath Gajeel's touch. His fingers came to rest over Cobra's nipples, around which he traced slow, gentle circles. The way the tiny nubs of flesh perked fascinated him, and he couldn't help but give one a light pinch.

Cobra's body shifted slightly under Gajeel's touch. "Quit tha-" his ears suddenly perked and a thoughtful yet suspicious look came to him "- ... Mate?" he quizzically demanded.

The demand went unheeded; Gajeel was too busy poking and pulling on Cobra's nipples. "Hm..?" He leaned down to lick one of the nubs. He wrapped his lips around it and carefully grazed his teeth over the protruding flesh.

Any further demands were caught in the back of Cobra's throat. His body shuddered and he almost automatically arched himself, only giving into the urge when the heat of Gajeel's rough tongue radiated into his chest. Arched back, he pressed his body closer to the man on top of him, which gave Gajeel a better angle to get at him.

Gajeel took hold of Cobra's hip with one hand and held the poison dragon to him. While he busied himself sucking at the redhead's nipples, his other hand wandered down Cobra's thigh and between his legs. He had the perfect angle for entry, but Gajeel wanted to draw this out longer. He slipped his wandering hand between them and traced circles around Cobra's puckering hole, teasing the entrance.

"Nn," Cobra held back a moan, not ready to let himself go that easily. Feeling Gajeel's fingers tease him, his body responded and his legs spread more. But when two thick, dry fingers tried to make their way in; Cobra jilted, trying to push Gajeel off of his chest. "Stop." It was a sharp command. "You don't know what you're doing." And Cobra' wasn't going to let the iron/virgin dragon go barging through his back door with no preparation.

The iron dragon pulled back as if scalded. "What- why? What's wrong?" Gajeel asked incredulously, resting his hands on Cobra's knees while he pinned the redhead with a petulant glare. "You're not getting cold feet now, are ya?"

Cobra slid away from Gajeel, inching towards one of the faux-wood end tables. He pulled the drawer open and fished around inside, withdrawing a tube and shoving it Gajeel's way. "You can't just..." He frowned, his face reddening again as he tried to find his words. "You can't do this... dry."

"Dry? The fuck are you-" Gajeel began to ask, but stopped when the tube was shoved in his face. He snatched it and turned it over in his hands; it was cold, partially used, and slightly greasy. When he twisted the cap off and a slippery gel oozed out, the gears in Gajeel's head finally started to grind.

Butts didn't work like girls did. They were sensitive, small, and lacked the lubrication women were known for. The iron dragon cracked into a grin, confident that he now knew exactly what he was doing, and plugged the nozzle right into Cobra. He gave it a good squeeze, squirting a thick dollop of lube straight up the redhead's ass.

"C-cold!" Cobra yelped, obviously not pleased by the icy lube that had just been shot up inside his hot bits.

That done, Gajeel pulled the tube out and discarded it, before taking up position between Cobra's legs and readying himself, dick poking right on target, and turned his grin on Cobra. "You ready now, Slitherfuck?"

The redhead lightly snorted. Gajeel had the nerve to go right back to knocking on his back door! Cobra jerked his legs, the feeling of just the tip of the steely dragonslayer dick making him feel agitated. "You don't know the first thing about what you're doing, you virgin." He took delight in the spluttering noise the other dragonslayer made and slid away from Gajeel. He fixed himself up against some of the pillows while positioning his body just right. Grabbing Gajeel by the wrist, Cobra guided his hand down - hoping it would be enough of a hint for the thick-headed iron dragon.

Before Gajeel could formulate an insult in retaliation, the insult was quickly forgotten in favor of exploration. Cobra's legs were spread wide and swiveled just enough to put himself on display. Gajeel slid his fingers around the base of Cobra's dick, beneath his balls, and down through the exposed crack. A small amount lube had leaked out to moisten Cobra's hole, enough that Gajeel was able to press one finger in.

The muscle was tight, but when lubricated it seemed to draw Gajeel straight in. He felt around, caressing every wall he could reach, and a few strokes later he felt the muscle relax enough for a second finger to slip in.

Gajeel's fingers were a little thick, and his hands were all around rough. When a third finger was added, Cobra squirmed and shifted his hips, a little too eager for further penetration. Gajeel kept the ministrations up for as long as he could, savoring every inch of contact, but Cobra's squirming soon broke Gajeel's patience. He withdrew his fingers with a wet pop as he crawled his way back up Cobra's torso. Any questions were silenced by a sudden possessive kiss. He was lined up, and he was ready. This time, Gajeel pressed in with ease while Cobra's mouth was occupied.

He couldn't help the small breath he let out as the iron dragon got deeper; Gajeel was thick, but he was thicker towards the middle of his cock. Cobra slid his body down the pillows, not breaking the kiss, so Gajeel had a better angle.

The shift was a pleasant surprise. Gajeel waited until he was fully seated, the entirety of his girth buried inside the poison dragon, before making his first move. He broke the kiss and gently nibbled his way down Cobra's chin, and at the same time pulled himself slowly out of Cobra until just his tip remained inside. His lips found the spot he marked earlier just as he thrust his full length back in, gradually building up a steady rhythm.

A warm tingling spread from the spot on Cobra's neck, it took a moment for him to feel anything but what was radiating from where Gajeel was biting down on him. Carefully, he wrapped his legs around Gajeel, guiding the other man's thrusts into an easier motion. Cobra let out a hitched breath, Gajeel giving in and settling into a comfortable movement.

It was completely unlike anything Gajeel had tried before and he found himself wanting more; more of Cobra's breathy moans, more of Cobra's tan flesh to nibble and kiss, more of everything. Each thrust was a delve into a heated caress, and the chill air of each pull only excited him further. But as his excitement grew, so too did his iron scales. Unbidden, an array of small steel bumps grew along his shaft; too small to be obstructive, but sizeable enough to provide a smooth but noticeable texture.

Cobra picked his head up, not sure what was going on. "Wh- what are you- AH-" What was going on? Did Gajeel's dick suddenly get... thicker? And bumpier? "Gajeel!" it was supposed to come out as an order to stop, but his tone melted away into a moan and he threw his head back again. Those bumps were sliding right against that spot inside. That really, really good spot. Repeatedly. Cobra's thighs loosened around Gajeel's waist as he reflexively spread his legs further - wanting more, wanting the other dragon to be deeper.

Gajeel slid his arms beneath Cobra's back and took firm hold of the poison dragon's shoulders to brace himself as the tempo of his thrusts increased.

The iron dragon couldn't hold out much longer.

His thrusts became more erratic, faster and shorter, small grunts escaping him with each turn. He buried himself deep within his mate and claimed Cobra's lips in a hungry kiss just before the pressure welling in his loins boiled over. It came in waves, hot semen gushing out every time his balls clenched. When the heat finally subsided, Gajeel pulled his wilting dick out into the cold air and let his head fall onto Cobra's shoulder. His breath was ragged as he lay there panting his relief.

Cobra, on the other hand, was less relieved. In fact, he wasn't relieved at all. He was getting so close, but Gajeel had come before he did. The asshole didn't even pull out! "Freakin' virgin," Cobra grumbled into Gajeel's ear. When Gajeel shakily lifted his head and gave a starry glare, Cobra pushed him off, rolling the iron dragon onto his back. With a swift and flexible movement he rolled with him, Cobra landing on top. He propped himself up on his knees, a pearly white substance dribbling down his inner thighs, and began stroking Gajeel's cock - trying to get him ready for another round. "You came. Now it's my turn."

Chapter 8: Departures

Notes:

First 2 sections of the chapter contain morning after aftermath.

Chapter Text

"... when a perceived threat is present in a flight's territory, a dragon will stop at nothing to save its flightmates." ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 14

 

Chapter Eight: Departures

Gajeel couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so soundly. His mind was rested, his limbs were tired as if he'd triumphed in a mighty battle the night before, and his bed held the warmth of a tenderly stoked forge. Daylight touched his eyes, filtered through a thinly curtained window. The gentle caress pulled him from his slumber and Gajeel greeted the day with a wide yawn.

Pleasant as it was, the iron dragon was not quite ready to wake; he rolled over and instinctively wrapped his arms around that which was the source of the bed's warmth. It took a few moments for him to realize his nose was pressed into the crook of someone's neck.

Gajeel sat up quickly, nearly kicking the half-melted sheets off the bed in his haste. There before him lay Cobra, naked and prone, slumbering peacefully. Asleep, Cobra didn't scowl or hiss or insult him; he slept with his cheek pressed up against the pillow and his mouth open a little.

What happened...? Cobra took a deep, yawning breath and rolled onto his back. He also felt an uncomfortable stickiness under his bottom, which was quite sore. ...Why do I feel so exhausted? He just wanted to sleep some more.

Gajeel's panic was encapsulated in only one thought: Oh shit, he's cute.

Cobra's ears perked, eyes snapping open and horror overtaking his flat features. It hit him. He was NAKED! He was in a BED! He was naked and in a bed! With GAJEEL! Three words he never thought would ever involve him at the same time: NAKED, BED, and GAJEEL!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he half-screamed in a moment of panic and jerked himself out of reach, only to flop onto the floor. Clamoring for blankets, he yanked the sheet off the bed in an attempt to cover himself. "What the hell are you doing here!?"

"Tch, you're about as loud as Salamander in the morning, Slitherfuck," Gajeel chided, wincing slightly at the raised voice. Now that the bed was vacated, he followed suit and stepped out onto the floor, scratching at his bare stomach as he went. "And as far as I remember, I couldn't exactly leave when you were bouncing around on top of me. Would've been a bit rude, I'd think."

Utterly naked, Gajeel paid little heed to the poison dragon on the floor; he'd only get shrieked at again, anyway. He opted instead to search for something to cover himself with, but quickly gave up the pursuit when he found his clothes in tatters. Surely the hotel would have a spare robe somewhere, Gajeel resolved with a shrug. Thus assured he turned back to his host. "Y'know, I knew you were flexible and long-winded in battle and all, but I really didn't expect you to last that long. There some kinda training routine you're hiding from me?"

"Don't act so fucking casual," Cobra hissed. His face as red as his hair, he forced a scowl; which seemed ineffectual given the fact that he was wrapped up in the sheet like a cocoon. Bouncing around? There was no way- but then the memory started coming to him, what happened last night. "Hell no." He placed his hands on the sides of his head, shaking his head back and forth. "No, no, NO." Noting Gajeel's search for clothing only aggravated him further. He reached around for the closest thing he could grab - one of Gajeel's unscathed boots. Cobra whipped it at the other dragonslayer's head. "Get out." It was a deep, growling demand.

"Ow! Fuck-" The boot bounced off of Gajeel's head and span off to the corner of the room. "The hell's your problem?! Last night you were more than willing to-" A second boot interrupted Gajeel's defense, this time landing a direct hit on his mouth. He felt his lip bleed and decided now would be the best time to make a hasty retreat; he ducked beneath the next projectile without waiting to see what it could be and slipped out into the hallway.

Cobra got to his feet and scooped up Gajeel's boots before trudging over to the door; throwing it open, he again took aim and threw them at Gajeel's head before slamming the door shut behind him.

So Gajeel was naked and slightly bruised in the middle of a hotel somewhere downtown. Just great.

Not like his house wasn't all the way across town or anything. But he knew when trying to get through to his partner was a lost cause. Nothing to do now but make his triumphant march back home.


Gajeel thrown out of the hotel room, Cobra pressed his back firmly up against the bathroom door while he attempted to sort everything out. His fingers grew white-knuckled as he clung to the sheet wrapped around him like it were life-or-death - like removing the cover and exposing his body would kill him.

He waited. He listened. He hoped Gajeel would just hurry up and leave, because he couldn't think with that guy around... Especially not after last night.

What in hell's seven bells had gotten into him? He had never been so... wanting before. Other people talked about wanting it, but was that what it was supposed to be like? No one forcing him, no one restraining him or hurting him if he didn't do it right... Cobra sat there, wrapping himself further in his sheet cocoon - he stared off into space. He didn't want to remember his first time, or his second time... or his third... But what had happened, it was different than every other time. He had a feeling that he liked what he did with Gajeel.

"Shit." He groaned and slammed the back of his head against the door, running his fingers through his messy crimson hair. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck!" Why? Why him and why Gajeel?

Cobra shifted, no matter what had happened or how - his rear was still sore from it. They hadn't used a condom, that was nothing new to Cobra, but it was going to be a hassle having to clean himself out after all this time. The sooner he cleaned and got dressed, the sooner he could vacate the premises and pretended like nothing had ever happened.

Yes, that was the best way to handle the situation, he reasoned.

Thankfully he had used an alias when he had checked-in.


Meanwhile, Gajeel had entirely given up his quest for modesty. The iron dragon sauntered home with a swagger in his step, displaying himself with just as much pride and abandon as the infamous Gray Fullbuster. Maybe their morning didn't pan out so well, but that didn't dampen his mood for long. As he made his way past crowded streets of confused onlookers, a sense of pride began to swell within him. And maybe, just beneath it, a faceless glimmer of hope.

By the time he made it home and donned the first pair of pants he picked up off the floor, Gajeel had replayed the whole night in his head. After he dug up some stray forks from some drawer to munch on, he was certain this was one of the best decisions he'd ever made. Gajeel swept a couple boxes of mismatched metal scrap from the couch onto the floor and flopped onto the cushions with his legs propped up to finish his meal, a lazy smile gracing his face.

Maybe, if Cobra came around, the nights here wouldn't be so lonely anymore. Not that Gajeel would ever admit to being lonely, as much as he valued solitude, but lately he'd found the poisonous asshole's company far more enjoyable. With their team so successful too - if he could call a dead client, ruined mansion, and ravaged city a success of any sort - he might even be able to afford to get his shitty, run-down house fixed up.

And maybe, just maybe, get Cobra off the streets. Why should his partner live out of shitty hotels when Gajeel had room to spare?

With that thought in mind, Gajeel's goal was clear. He swung his legs down and headed out, grabbing a spare tunic on his way to the door. His partner should be at the guild by now. They could go for one more job before Gajeel proposed his idea; it was never a good idea to be dirt broke before extending an invitation to a new roommate, after all.


He glanced to the side, trying to keep a straight face and steel himself before speaking to the Guildmaster. Nobody looked at him, or if they did they didn't consider his presence in Fairy Tail's hall strange anymore. Cobra approached Master Makarov, holding his posture straight and his head high.

"Master," he greeted. It came out awkward, like the words were crooked in his mouth. He still didn't like saying that word.

The elder Fairy was sitting on the corner of the bar counter, his usual perch for watching over his guild. He turned and smiled at the young man. "Ah, Cobra. You're not usually up and about this early. Something wrong?"

"Yeah," Cobra began, "I know there's still a day left, but..." His voice trailed and he tightly crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you... consider calling off the probationary team a little early? I... would like to go on a job by myself. I can't deal with Gajeel right now."

Makarov let out a light chuckle. "That almost rhymed you know," he said, amused. "I know you two have been testing each other's patience since the start, but what could be so important that you want the probation lifted with only a day left?" He stroked his chin, quickly feigning thought. "You slept with him, didn't you." A wide smirk grew on the old man's face, a sharp contrast to the look of absolute horror that came across Cobra. The Guildmaster explained: "Don't look so shocked, you're walking funny. Just because I'm an old man, don't think I don't know a walk of shame when I see one. I've seen plenty of teammate affairs in my time. Been responsible for a few, too..."

Cobra could only stand there, eyes wide and lips pressed shut in silent horror. He was speechless. He was overhearing things about Makarov he wished he had never heard.

The Fairy Master blinked, coming out of his mental memoirs. "Cobra?" he waved a hand in front of the redhead's face but got no response. "Oh, that's right, you can hear thoughts... Well, now you know a lot more about me than you did ten minutes ago! At one time I was quite the looker!" Makarov burst out laughing.

Cobra, on the other hand, was screaming internally. He wished desperately for such a thing as brain bleach to get those images from his head. Forever.

Makarov came down from his laughter, patting the younger mage on the shoulder. "I understand what you're asking for, given the circumstances. I see no problem with letting the probationary team disband a day early - and don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your team tryst with Gajeel."

"Thank... you..." the words were almost mechanical coming out of his mouth, Cobra still recovering from the horror-show he had overheard.

"Just next time, send the poor fellow home with some clothes on, eh? Half the town's talking about how he must've gotten drunk and gone streaking again."

Cobra managed to frown at that one.

Gajeel kicked the guild hall's heavy front doors open to find Fairy Tail as rambunctious as ever. They seemed to be throwing a party for some reason or another - most likely someone burped and it sounded vaguely similar to the first few notes of whatever song is popular at the time, giving cause for celebration.

More asinine bullshit, and all the more reason to get out on their next job sooner rather than later.

But all the noisy fairies and drunken shenanigans in the world couldn't spoil Gajeel's mood today. After a quick survey he spotted Cobra near the bar chatting to the Master - an odd place to find the redhead, but convenient enough. He put on his default cocky smirk to make his way through the crowd and slapped his hand on Cobra's shoulder when he arrived.

"Bout time you got yourself cleaned up, Slitherfuck! So what job are we taking on today, eh?" Gajeel asked, eagerly awaiting their new assignment.

Cobra slid out from Gajeel's grasp. "We aren't taking any jobs," he started to explain. "I’m taking a job." And if Gajeel followed him on this job, he would not be held responsible for the iron idiot. "By myself."

By himself? Didn't they still have at least a day left before the probation period ended? Gajeel's smirk faltered. Surely his sense of time wasn't that bad. "The hell you mean, by yourself? We were just warming up!"

"Me. By myself. No you," the redhead sneered. He folded his arms over his chest, ears perking, ignoring the confused yet challenging look he was getting from his now ex-partner. "Don't be stupid. You know exactly what I mean."

"Mm, no, Gajeel. I'm afraid it's true. He was just headed out," Makarov poked into their conversation before some kind of fight broke out. The last thing he needed was a fight between two Dragonslayers. "You've been let off probation early. You can resume going on lone jobs once again. Consider it a gift, in light of today's festivities."

The fuck kind of gift was that? Gajeel balled his fists and glared the shorter second gen down, though he couldn't quite keep the sting of abandonment and crumbling plans out of his thoughts. "Fine. It's about damn time, maybe I can actually get some work done without him getting fucking eaten every time we go out."

But despite the sudden surge of irrational anger, questions about Cobra's wellbeing and housing situation still battled for dominance. Then again, why should he care, anyway? It's not like he needed a slithery little shit who'd walk out at the first opportunity in his life...

His usual frown twisted into a strange pout, unable to process whatever the hell that tangling, dragging feeling in his gut was. Gajeel was worried about... him? He was going to part on good terms, but then Gajeel had to bring up the getting eaten bit. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings when I called you stupid," Cobra tilted his chin up, eyes hard and glowering. "I really thought you already knew."

Makarov pointed his shillelagh between the two of them - as if the little staff would keep the two from going at it. "Both of you stop this right now. You're making fools of yourselves." The Guildmaster looked at both of them, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Cobra, if you have the job you want to go on, please go check in with Mirajane and be on your way." The Master watched as Cobra, lingering for a moment, held back whatever venomous words he had and turned heel, going to do so. Makarov sighed. He knew it was going to be a messy break-up, he just had to keep it from getting messier. "Gajeel, are you sure you don't want to do the same?"

The iron dragon didn't answer at first, merely glowered after Cobra's retreating back. He should have expected this, he really was a fool hoping for a different outcome. After a few moments he grunted his displeasure and turned away. "Screw it, let that piece of shit get first pick," Gajeel responded, then stomped his way to the second floor. He needed to put some distance between himself and the poison dragon. perhaps the noise of the guild would prove enough to get his mind off the team.

By now the party was in full swing, most of the fairies gathered around as Natsu again recounted the tale of his victory against Oracion Seis by pantomiming wildly, often pulling Wendy over to help show off. Laughter, cheering, and the clinking of bottles assaulted Gajeel's ears as he settled in a secluded spot against the second floor's railing. From here he had a full view of the spectacle, and he couldn't help but wonder how such an idiot could have ever defeated both himself and Cobra in battle.

As his mind wandered, lulled along in part by the raucous noise that blurred into a wordless cascade, Gajeel thought that perhaps ending on such a sour note wasn't the greatest idea. He should have played it cool rather than growing defensive so quickly; he should have asked straight away if they could be roommates instead. Was his pride really worth the rejection?

But as his mind wandered, so too did his gaze.

His eye landed on two cats in the middle of the crowd; Happy and Charle, was it? He'd met Salamander's cat before, but now the new kid had one, too? All thoughts of his ex-teammate were immediately chased out by a much more urgent concern.

He was the only real dragonslayer without a cat.

With all the excitement, only Makarov noticed a sullen Gajeel quietly slip out of the guild. The old man allowed himself a brief sigh; he hated seeing his children distraught, but he knew only distance could help Gajeel.

Had he known Gajeel would spend the next several hours scouring back alleys for a cat of his own, Makarov would never let him live it down.


Clear of the small city, Cobra stopped to glance back at the peaceful little burg. His first official job for a legit guild... he didn't know if what he was feeling was pride, disgust, or possible indigestion. Maybe it was relief, knowing he was finally able to go out by himself with no iron idiots stomping on his coattails-

An odd, hot feeling flashed through his body - it made him freeze up. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

A nagging, nonstop ringing had filled his ears since he had left the guild. At first, he thought it was that he had been around loud people for too long. But on the edge of Magnolia, with no one else around, the sound was highly suspicious. If Cobra didn't know any better, he could have sworn that sounded like a high-powered magical energy weapon in its charging phase.

His ears told him nothing, he could only hear that obnoxious ringing and the sound of the wind picking up. So why did he have this tightening feeling in his chest? This feeling felt like... danger was near.

A sound akin to the crack of thunder forced Cobra to cover his ears. The sky was ripped open and the ground began to shake.


The last thing Gajeel remembered was searching for cats. It had started to rain, and that damned cat of Salamander’s came along and laughed at him. He didn't remember much after that; just a massive peal of thunder, a moment where the rain seemed to flow backwards, and then darkness. He awoke buried in a thick layer of dust; his first inhale filled his lungs with the fine powder, and he erupted from the ground coughing and spluttering. The dragonslayer finally cleared his lungs, but a few steadying breaths told him the air was just as thick. He blinked sand out of his eyes and surveyed his surroundings, his bewilderment growing by the second.

The dust was everywhere, stretching in an endless blue expanse all around him. Gone were the streets of Magnolia, with all the buildings, homes, canals, and people they contained. Even the bright, sunny sky seemed to have gone missing, replaced by a swirling vortex of dark, electrified clouds.

Where the hell was everybody?

"Hello?" Gajeel called, hoarse at first. He cleared his throat before trying again. "Oi, any of you shits still alive?"

A soft wind disturbing the dust was his only response.

Perhaps he had gone crazy. It wasn't normal for a whole city to just up and disappear like that. Unnerved, and unwilling to stay in one spot for long, Gajeel began to wander aimlessly. Clouds kicked up behind him every time he lifted his feet, leaving a trail more obvious than any footprint.

His wandering took him nowhere. The expanse of dust remained unchanged, broken only by an occasional stone or bit of unidentifiable rubble. Monotony grated at his mind, his confusion soon giving way to anger and irritation. He should be looking for a cat right now, not for any sign of civilization.

Hell, he should be safe at home with a new roommate preparing for their next job, but oh no, not only did that plan fall through but the world had to go and end too. Just great.

A distant sound interrupted Gajeel's ruminations; muffled footsteps shuffling through the dust echoed across the empty landscape. Suddenly alert, Gajeel scanned the horizons until he caught sight of a trail of dust clouds similar to the one he left behind.

Through the fine smoke came a cloaked figure, clothes tattered and his face obscured by a camo-design bandanna. On his back, he carried an array of large, powerful-looking staves; using one to walk with. The stranger stopped before Gajeel, his brown eyes flicking downwards before coming back to the iron dragon's face. "I see that I don't have to dig you up..." he spoke in a monotone, though there was a sense of urgency somewhere in there.

Gajeel couldn't suppress his smile at the sight of another living being, but soon corrected it into his trademark scowl. He recognized this weirdo from tales of Fairy Tail's most elusive S-Class mage. It wouldn't do for Mystogan of all people to see him grinning like a fool, even if the world had just ended.

"Well I ain't a useless sack of shit like everyone else here. What blew your ass into town?" he asked by way of making polite conversation. "You wouldn't happen to know where the town blew off to, eh?"

Mytsogan offered a blithe blink before pointing skywards. Towards the moving clouds, echoing their last throes of defiant thunder, starting to clear away in the presence of the spiraling vortex that sucked them in. "That and there, to answer both your questions."

"...The sky?" The iron dragon shielded his eyes and looked up to the spiraling clouds. He hadn't given the sky much thought before, as the lack of anything around him consumed his full attention. "The fuck?"

"Yes. 'The fuck', indeed." For a moment, the masked mage looked skywards as well. He thought he'd had another month before this specific portal would try to open back up. "It's called an Anima, it's a kind of portal. Steals magic, en masse. The city, the guild, all the people, everyone; they got sucked up by that thing."

"Huh, sucks to be them." As usual, Gajeel thought there was no way this could be his problem. Sure, the lack of a home and guild was inconvenient, but most of those rowdy flies were getting on his nerves anyway. Hell, even Cobra was- Wait. "Hold on a sec, you said all the people? Just who all got sucked up in that thing?"

"Almost everyone," Mystogan replied. "I shielded myself from the blast before it came. But counting you, there are three survivors. All Dragonslayers. Wendy, Natsu, and you."

"Only three?!" Gajeel asked, louder than he intended. He coughed to cover his surprise. "So... You didn't happen to see a red-headed fuck wandering around, have you? He's a dragonslayer, too." Who knows; maybe Mystogan just didn't know how to count. It was worth a shot.

"No, so far I've only found you three," Mystogan held up three fingers. "Wendy and Natsu and their Exc- ... cats... went ahead through the Anima to scout and see if anyone survived on the other side."

"The hell did you sent those brats through for?" Gajeel asked indignantly. "If anyone's gonna save the day you know it's gonna be me!" He might not have his own cat, but Gajeel was certain he would be more useful in the field, especially if they were "ex-cats".

Besides, if Cobra was in danger, he was obligated to run to the rescue. They were still supposed to be a team today after all, and a Fairy never turned their back on a teammate.

Mystogan tilted his head to the side, a seemingly incredulous gesture. "They went ahead before I could explain much to them, or to give them what they needed." He reached inside his cloak, withdrawing a small bottle of red pills. He rattled the round pills in the glass bottle before tossing them to Gajeel. "The world on the other side of the Anima is... scarce in magic, which I'm guessing Wendy and Natsu are just finding out right about now. People there cannot use it. If you take two of those pills, you'll be able to retain your magical abilities on the other side. I'm going to stay here for a little longer to look for more survivors."

Gajeel snatched the delicate bottle from the air and studied the little balls inside. Every damn ad and nosy adult he'd ever seen always harped about not taking mysterious drugs from mysterious strangers, but what the hell. They smelled liked candy through the cork. And they were red, just like that snotty second-gen's hair.

Besides, if that thing in the sky was stealing magic, and people needed to take these mysterious drugs to use magic, it was very likely that Cobra could wind up just like these little red pills. There was no way in hell Gajeel would let that happen.

His mind set Gajeel popped off the cork, quickly dry-swallowed two of the pills, then stopped the bottle and slid it into his pants pocket. When the candies didn't immediately melt his insides, Gajeel turned a cocky grin on Mystogan. "If you're staying here, then that means I get to go save the day alone, eh? Don't get yourself killed out here!"

The Anima beckoned; the grey clouds all but devoured left only portal's gaping maw. Lightning flashed in the inky mouth, telling of a thunderous hunger. To Gajeel, it looked like one hell of a ride. The iron dragon set his feet firmly apart and planted his fist on the ground in front of him. With a brief flare of magic a steel pole encased his arm and extended rapidly, rocketing him into the sky. Higher and higher he rose until the air felt thin, until the swirling darkness nearly blotted out his senses, until he could stretch himself no further. At last the pole retreated back into his arm, leaving him hanging in mid-air. Just as he began to think this wasn't how he was supposed to enter the portal, that he might black out, the maw swallowed him whole.

Darkness engulfed him, all-consuming darkness, and then, a flash of light.

Gajeel blinked hard, blinded by the sudden burst of sunlight, overwhelmed by the lack of nothing. When at last his vision returned he found himself planted on solid ground, surrounded by a sea of clouds. A soft breeze brushed the dust from his shoulders and parted the clouds beneath him to reveal a sprawling desert a mile below; and off in the distance, a city dwarfed by a towering fortress.

Chapter 9: Edolas

Chapter Text

“Iron dragons, being of the earth, have impeccable tracking abilities. They always, without fail, find what they are looking for. Such an instinct has evolved after years searching for the precious metals deep within the earth that constitute their diet.” ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 126

 

Chapter Nine: Edolas

The heat of the desert city was beginning to grate on Gajeel's nerves. Or perhaps it was the ever-moving mass of strange people filling the streets, constantly bumping into the iron dragon as he wandered aimlessly, searching for anything familiar. The rumbling of lacrima-fueled engines from speeding cars of all shapes and sizes resonated off the flat stone walls that rose into the skyline. Gajeel found the noise incredibly disorienting, and by the time a scrawny punk ran straight into him he was at wit's end.

"Hey, watch where yer going, freak!" the boy turned and shouted - were he any older than a teenager, a thick layer of makeup concealed his true age.

Gajeel responded with a fist to the face; his punch knocked the punk clear across the street and left a large powdery stain on his knuckles. Before he could draw back a bright flash went off just a foot away, nearly blinding him. He grunted and swatted at air, but his new enemy eluded him.

"The fuck- Where are you, you little shit?" Gajeel snapped, rubbing at his eyes to push the spots out. When he could see again he looked around wildly, only for his eyes to land on an unmistakable mop of red hair.

Cobra stood before him, a camera in his hands. The only things out of place were a pair of black cargo shorts, a loose red t-shirt and white zipper hoodie, and a smile as bright as the camera's flash.

The redhead pointed his camera and - with a suddenly devilish grin - snapped a shot, the camera's flash once again blinding Gajeel. While Gajeel was blinded, he popped the camera lens back on and took off down a side alley.

Rather than flail at nothing and stumble around like a fool, Gajeel held his arm over his eyes until his vision returned. A green starscape soon resolved into a sandstone alley and a sea of bystanders parted by the escaping cameraman.

...Right, Cobra was still mad at him for that scene at the guild. Gajeel mentally kicked himself for that fuckup, but they'd have to worry about that later. Team disagreements didn't matter much when their whole city was missing. For now he gave chase, bowling over anyone in his way.

Jumping strewn garbage cans, swinging around a rusted fire escape, climbing over fences; Cobra was agile, Gajeel not so much. When the white hoodie rounded another corner, he stopped - trapped at a dead end, with a dumpster his only chance at getting away. Opening the top he slid inside, waiting for the heavy boot-stomps to pass.

By the third time Gajeel tripped over a toppled garbage can he was already fed up with this whole ordeal. An avalanche of curses and discarded fast food wrappers accompanied him around the last turn before he came face-to-face with a blank wall. No doors, no turns, no way out.

And no Cobra.

Only a few scattered boxes and a dumpster greeted the iron dragon. Did he get lost, or take a wrong turn somewhere? He stepped back out to the end of the alley to get his bearings, but the scent trail undoubtedly went this way before dying to the noxious odor of rotting trash. The only way out was over a smooth, fifty-foot wall. Unless...

Gajeel took a few moments to steel himself before holding a deep lungful of clean air, then approached the dumpster and gingerly lifted the heavy lid. First he was met by a wall of stench, but just behind it was his quarry.

With a sheepish little smile, Cobra gave a small wave before trying to scramble out of the trash. He didn't make it far before a firm hand grasped the back of his collar. Using his shoulder to prop up the lid, Gajeel hefted his now ex-partner out of the dumpster and dragged him out to fresher air. It was a good thing Cobra was so damn skinny.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Gajeel chided when he could breathe again. "I know you're mad at me, but a dumpster? Seriously?" He took a breath to calm himself; perhaps shouting wasn't the best way to get back on good terms. "Look, I promise I won't peek when you take your damn shower this time. Just get cleaned up somewhere, we've got shit to deal with."

He was met with an unsure look, violet eyes that were wary of him. Cobra went to slide past Gajeel, cautiously taking a test step. Thick lips curved into a pout. But... it wasn't Cobra's usual pout. There was no dry cynicism in it, no venom. The redhead looked like a confused puppy.

The thinly veiled attempt to escape was immediately mirrored by Gajeel sidestepping to close the gap between himself and the wall. He glared the smaller dragonslayer down, prepared for their usual battle of egos. Something about that pout threw him off, though. It wasn't as cocky as it should be. It seemed more timid, if that was even a word that could be applied to a deadly former dark mage.

Gajeel couldn't take it on top of the silent treatment. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I was a dick, you're a dick, can we just forget about the whole dicks thing that happened for a while? Let's talk about it over dinner or something, whatever you want."

Cobra pointed at Gajeel and then at himself and shook his head, crimson bangs shaking loose.

"...You're not going to talk to me, are you? You can't be that mad." Yet still, no response. Gajeel sighed, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. "Alright, but I ain't gonna let you off the hook. This team has to save the world, and you're coming with me!"

With that, Gajeel grabbed Cobra around the waist and hoisted his partner over his shoulder. His objective secure, he marched through the alleyways on his way to a hotel he'd seen coming in. It was a cozy place, not too fancy, but nice enough that Cobra might be less objectionable. At least Cobra was light and easy to carry, it made the trip much easier.

Were he more focused, Gajeel would have realized the poison dragonslayer was several pounds lighter than he should be.

His mind fixated on a hot meal and a warm bed, the iron dragon paid little attention as he retraced his footsteps. What felt like seconds later they broke out into the main street where Gajeel was greeted by the warm embrace of the sun and a swift steel crowbar to the face.

"I am warning you sir, release the man or I will have you tasting iron for weeks!" a firm yet wavering voice threatened from behind the tasty treat, which Gajeel promptly chomped into to the surprise and horror of the would-be rescuer. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but that wasn't important now. What was important was that this voice was trying to take Cobra from him.

"Do you know how much trouble I went through to track this fucker down?" Gajeel asked after finishing his snack. "Cobra's mine, and you can just go screw off."

Almost as if the mention of his name upset him, Cobra started flailing. Kicking Gajeel's chest and pounding his fists against the iron dragon's back, he certainly wasn't making it easy to hold onto him. His loose shoes even fell off in his efforts to free himself. When the lithe form on his shoulder started slipping from his grip, Gajeel turned and secured his arms around his teammate's waist. Across from him, a strikingly good-looking guy in a nice suit and hat had Cobra's wrists and was pulling hard.

Something about that surprisingly handsome man gave him pause. Gajeel stood still, scrutinizing the man who tried fruitlessly to pull on Cobra in a horribly one-sided game of tug-o-war. Now that he took a moment to study the guy, his scent was oddly familiar, too. Take away the shampoo and cologne, toss in some sweat and grease, and it would smell just like his own home. Gajeel wasn't quite sure how parallel dimensions worked, but he sure as hell knew his own scent when he smelled it!

With one great heave Gajeel pulled Cobra toward him, catching the stranger off-balance. The hatted man toppled forward and sent all three of them crashing to the ground.

Gajeel wasted no time putting his new friend in a headlock.

"Now that you're done hitting people, I've got a few questions for ya!" he said through a victorious grin. "First off, you're gonna tell me what the hell you want with my partner here, and then you're gonna tell me where I can get a hat like that. Now get talkin!"

Meanwhile, Cobra stood off to the side - clearly confused. He then turned to search for his discarded clogs, and upon finding them, then came back. He looked at Gajeel, then the man with the hat. His mouth slanted to the side, his fingers tapping his chin in thought. He blinked a few times. Then his face lit up with an excited grin that took up nearly his whole face. He reached into his camera bag and quickly withdrew a palm-sized notebook, thumbing through pages and pages of notes and doodles before coming to a blank page and writing something down with a pen.

Cobra then grabbed a fist of Gajeel's black mane and yanked until he had both of the taller men looking at him.

He excitedly showed them what he'd written down: [TWINS.]

Twins? What the hell did that mean, was Cobra pregnant? But no, men couldn't do that, not unless it was some weird snake magic... Gajeel glanced at the man he just barely wasn't beating up to make sure he wasn't the only one confused. Now that he took a closer look, though, that mass of curly black hair almost looked like Gajeel's own head when he showered too much. Dirty him up a little, dump the glasses, toss in a few earrings, and the guy could be a dead ringer for Gajeel.

And from the look of astonished surprised slowly crawling across his face, it seemed Gajeel's twin just came to the same conclusion.

"You wouldn't happen to know of a place called 'Earthland' by any chance, would you?" The twin asked.

Gajeel nodded mutely, netting a smile from his twin.

"Then could I hazard a guess that your name is Gajeel?"

Again, a nod. The twin's smile grew into a toothy grin that Gajeel knew all too well.

"Then it's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Gajeel Redhawk. If you would kindly get off me, you are going to help me and EJ," he tilted his head toward Cobra, "blow the lid of a conspiracy within this kingdom."


Going over a few sandy streets, the three sat down at a table in a mostly quiet tavern. It wasn't run-down, but it wasn't a classy joint either - at least it looked like the owner put a little effort into upkeep. The picture drawn on the paper on the table in front of Gajeel illustrated two circles with a line in between them. One circle was labeled "Earthland" and the other "Edolas".

[THERE ARE COPIES OF PEOPLE IN EACH WORLD, BUT DIFFERENT,] 'EJ' had written on a piece of notebook paper. [THE KING DOESN'T WANT PEOPLE TO FIND OUT THAT YOUR WORLD IS WHERE THE CURRENT MAGIC SUPPLY IS COMING FROM. AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT MY BOYFRIEND AND I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO FIND OUT. :)] He offered a wide, proud smile.

It was all starting to make sense. Of course a parallel universe would have doubles of everyone. What other kind of universe would there be? If this handsome devil he was sitting across from actually was his clone, then it stood to reason the Cobra he'd picked up was the clonejeel's boyfriend-

"...Wait, what? The hell you mean you're dating?!"

Redhawk glanced between EJ and his clone, perplexed. "We have been together for quite some time. Considering how possessive you were of EJ, I assumed you and EJ's clone were as well. Are you not?"

"Bullshit. Slitherfuck hates my guts. What gives?"

"Well, maybe if you didn't call him 'Slitherfuck' he wouldn't be so adverse to you," Redhawk guessed, more amused than he should be. "You must be more civil. Treat him like the prince you know he is!"

Gajeel pouted at that; it was difficult to do with his heavily studded face, but he still managed. "If you say so. Finesse doesn't really seem to be his thing. So how do I make him stop hating me?"

"Dear Redfox, you can't make someone like you! It must happen naturally. Trying to force it will only hurt everyone involved in the long run."

"Well if you're so smart, how'd you swing getting this guy here?"

It was the question he'd been waiting for. A fire lit in Redhawk's eyes and his chest swelled as he took a deep breath to begin his saga. But before Redhawk could start, EJ quickly shot out his hand and covered the reporter's mouth.

He shook his head, loose red bangs falling into his face more, and held up one finger. EJ then held up another piece of paper, this time with nothing but a simple heart drawn on it and the words: [NOT A TALE FOR PUBLIC.] He smirked devilishly, before taking his hands off his lover's face and going back to writing his words down. [WHAT ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS?]

A moment passed before Gajeel realized the question on the paper was directed at him. Cobra was usually more sly and sarcastic. Though rarely soft-spoken, the poison dragon could always make himself heard.

"Well they all got-"

"Whoa now, if I don't get to tell my tale then he must wait as well!" Redhawk interjected. "Why don't we take this back to our apartment, hm? At the very least we should treat our new friend to a meal and a warm bed before sharing stories."


Later that night, Gajeel found himself wishing he'd been sucked up into that giant lacrima too. If he thought his one-night-stand with Cobra was something to brag about, it didn't compare to the noise coming out of his clone's bedroom.

"What- No, I'm not going to invite him to join us, are you crazy?!" Redhawk's hushed but very flustered voice was hard to mistake.

Gajeel groaned and tried to bury his head in the couch he was sleeping on. Maybe if he dug far enough he wouldn't have to listen to his other self's moaning and panting. Never would he have guessed he'd be a bottom, in any dimension. Sleep couldn't come fast enough.

Chapter 10: Flip Side

Notes:

I've been working through some creative slumpiness stuff for a long time, and I finally feel okay enough to keep trying to post this fic. This is the first chapter I'm posting without my co-author. >.< Also, Charle = Carla. Part of this fic was written before the official translation of her name was available.

Chapter Text

"... Dragons who have mated will usually have a higher social standing in their flight than lone dragons, the only exemption to this are alpha dragons." ~Dragon Historia, pg. 37

 

Chapter Ten: Flip Side

In most instances, sound was the first thing to come to him. Far off echoes dancing in his skull before he regained consciousness like a fish flopping over a waterfall. Cobra's body jolted as he woke up face-down on the ground, taking in a sharp breath - which he instantly regretted, and he coughed to dislodge his lungs of dust as he quickly got to his knees. "Shit," he coughed, getting to his feet. "What was that?"

The redhead turned, expecting to see a giant hole in some part of the city - but there was no city at all. Magnolia was gone, a flat slate left in its place. A deafening silence rung in his ears. Dark clouds swirled ominously overhead. Cobra frowned. Well that certainly wasn’t good.

Snatching up his bag, he headed down into the wasteland and listened for something; anything. For a while, the only sounds he heard were on the edge of the once-city, people looking to come into town for errands only to find it a white void of nothing. When Cobra finally heard something else - he headed in that direction, determined to find some sort of answers.

That was when he came upon Jellal.

For a split-second, even before he could clearly see the man as anything more than a black speck, Cobra's insides coiled and his thick lips curled back to expose his thin fangs. Images of the Tower flashed through his mind; dark corridors, locked doors, and Jellal - turning a blind eye to what happened to the other slaves, Jellal refusing to let anybody out - Jellal selling him off . As he got closer, as he listened to the man more, he began to understand that it wasn't Jellal - not quite. But it wasn't quite not -Jellal and so Cobra still wasn't pleased to see the man.

"Mystogan's a stupid name," Cobra spat in greeting to the ragged S-class mage, with more venom in his tone than was probably needed.

"And Cobra isn't?" Mystogan calmly replied, ignoring the way Cobra seemed ready to jump on him and tear him apart. "You already know who I am," Mystogan added, pointing to his own ears to show that he knew how Cobra’s worked. "And I assume you can hear what's happened."

"Sure, you’re a copy of someone I'd like to eviscerate." Red tendrils of smoke crawled up from Cobra's wrists, and he curled his fingers into tight fists as he attempted to calm his scales. "A copy of someone I'd like to eviscerate," he repeated, "Saying that some sky-hole sucked up the whole town."

"You know it's the truth," Mystogan pointed out.

Cobra lightly snorted, glancing up at the swirling mass of clouds that seemed to punch through the sky for many miles. He could hear Mystogan's thoughts; that Cobra’s Dragonslayer magic had saved him from the "Anima", as it had the same for Salamander, Wendy... and Gajeel.

"It was fine for the other three to go through, but you would be in danger from the Anima if you went," Mystogan said plainly. "Your lacrimal implant-"

Cobra’s ears perked, hearing the warning before it was said. "My implant means I'll turn to a solid lacrima statue," Cobra finished the other mage's explanation before Mystogan could finish. He looked up at the vortex, lightly sneering at the extradimensional hole. Lacrimal implants were more hassle than they were worth; and it wasn't the first time his had been more of a handicap than a help. Cobra paused, his ears perking lightly. "But you have a way to prevent that, right?"

"In theory," Mystogan agreed. He rummaged around under his ruined dark cloak before producing a small bottle of strange pills. Cobra could hear that he'd given Gajeel a similar dosage before sending the iron idiot off with enough to help the rest of the guild… and that Natsu dragged Wendy ahead without taking any.

"Drugs," Cobra commented.

"How very astute," Mystogan dryly chuckled. Or so Cobra thought it was a chuckle - normal people didn't make sounds like that. What a freak. "If you stay here, the Council will show up and have a very convenient ex-dark mage to blame for the town's disappearance. However, in order for you to go to the other side there and remain flesh and blood, you'll need to take two of these every three hours. You have enough to last eighteen hours.”


This world was dying. And he could hear it. The land didn’t quietly hum with a life of it’s own, it was... silent. The magic drained from the land had turned it all to desert, with minor towns and villages scattered throughout - crumbs of what had once been a green, vibrant place.

Knowing Fairy Tail, Cobra headed for where the rumors and destruction lead him - and when he was close enough the loudest fairy he knew was like a beacon, a migraine-inducing beacon. He spotted the fire and sky dragonslayers as he rounded a corner, bodies of various soldier flying through the air, and he tailed them just far enough behind to off the few remaining enemies with a flurry of quick, poison-tipped claws.

“And here I thought you had the brains to not leave witnesses when you’re hiding from the law,” Cobra remarked. His fingers rigidly flexed as his scales sunk back into his skin, the purple and maroon giving way to his smooth, chestnut skin once again.

“Finally, someone we know is acting right!” Happy and Natsu both said, in slightly off-sync unison.

Wendy shyly half-hid behind Natsu. She was still wary of Cobra, but her opinion of him wasn’t what it had been during their original encounter. Carla practically shot daggers at him with her eyes, though.

Just when he was about to say something, he ducked - nearly avoiding a headlock-hug from a black-clad blonde.

“EJ!” the blonde called him. She moved to grab him again and Cobra again smoothly evaded her; she tried once more and once more he slid out of her reach like some awkward dance.

But it was Wendy who moved to correct the other woman, and it was next to Wendy and Natsu that Cobra slunk to stand. “Oh, Miss Ashley, this isn’t-”

“Where’s your camera, Shutterfield?” Ashley, clearly the Edolas version of that Lucy chick, pointed at him, mouth pulled to the side in a tough-looking frown. “And what’re you talkin’ for, you ain’t never talked before.” Cobra only leveled the most disbelieving look he could at her, until he heard her mind catch up. “Shit, you must be the other- EJ!”

“This is Cobra!” Natsu threw an arm around Cobra’s shoulders, grinning widely.

“Remember what I said about touching,” Cobra warned, and Natsu quickly withdrew.

Natsu, oblivious to the way Cobra pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, further explained: “And he’s pretty good at fighting! But unless you’re fighting him, don’t touch him.”

In a troublesome whisper, Happy added: “He’s got boundary issues.”

Cobra bristled, folding his arms tight against his chest. “That’s not what that means.”

“An EJ that don’t like to be touched and is named after a snake?” Ashley, fully amused, snorted. “You Earthlanders really are the opposite of us.”

“U-um, Cobra,” Wendy gently interjected, quietly wringing the hem of her dress, “Did Mystogan send you, too?”

He nodded, red bangs bouncing slightly from the motion. “He said you ran ahead before he could finish explaining everything.” With a sigh, he produced the bottle of x-pills from his coat. “You want our magic in this world, you have to take two of these .” When Natsu went to reach for the bottle, Cobra held it out of his reach. “I give you these, then we need to find Gajeel. He has the rest. I can’t afford to share with the rest of the guild.”

“Troubles with your implant?” Carla said, her tone implying a threat that none of the others seemed to pick up on. Damn, who know a little white cat could threaten with the skill of a demon general?

Cobra frowned at her. He then dropped the bottle in Natsu’s hand. “I mean it, Salamander. You two first-gens should be good with one dose each, but I have to keep taking them. I only have enough for twelve hours once you two take your doses.”

Natsu stared at the bottle in his palm, frowning thoughtfully. Cobra could hear he was actually weighing the pros and cons of having his magic back versus a limited time table at Cobra’s expense. “Wendy can take hers. I’ll wait until we find Gajeel.” His grin returned as he passed to bottle off to the smallest dragonslayer. Salamander had half a brain and wasn’t half-bad, who knew?

“We haven’t seen Gajeel,” Wendy said. She fiddled with the cap of the bottle until Cobra took it from her, uncorked the top, and gave it back. “ Th-thank you.


Dozens of iron-clad boots beat out a steady tempo underlining an off-key marching cadence that echoed across the wide open plaza. Add to that the cheers of the crowd watching the military display, and Gajeel was beginning to understand why Cobra was alway so grumpy in noisy areas. He sat on the roof of a building overlooking the plaza, shaded by a hooded cloak and far enough from the edge that he could not be seen from the ground. Beside him stood his clone, furiously scribbling in his pocket-sized notebook, and EJ, the Cobra lookalike, silent but for the incessant clicking of his camera's shutter. Their attentions were fixed solely on the massive lacrima crystal that dominated the center of the plaza, around which Edolas' finest military squads were on parade.

"Judging by the size of that thing, it should be the lacrima which contains your guild," Redhawk said, finally snapping his notebook shut. "Just think how many people could be crammed in there, it's large enough to fit a whole city!"

"You sure that's everyone? They'd be pretty cramped in there," Gajeel responded. He cautiously leaned over the edge of their perch to get a better count of the guards below; one hundred at least, making a full ring around the lacrima, and enough civilians to pack the plaza full.

EJ paused, a look of recognition over coming his flat features, snapping the lenscap back onto his camera. He again slid his small notebook from his pocket. [IT LOOKS LESS CROWDED AT THE NORTH ENTRANCE. I'M GOING TO GO TAKE A LOOK.] After he was sure that both Gajeel's had read his message, he gave a small nod before sliding down the fire escape to scout ahead.

Redhawk slid his notebook into a breast pocket, his gaze lingering on the fire escape EJ had descended. A look of concern crossed his face, which he quickly masked by turning a bright smile on Gajeel. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me holding the fort here! Perhaps we could take this time to plot out our strengths and their weaknesses, or come up with an attack plan of some sort?"

"You worry about him, don't you?"

"Pardon?"

Gajeel motioned toward the fire escape, watching his twin's face intently. "You're anxious when he's not right beside you, and you're always watching him like a cat with her kittens. Why don't you go with him?"

"EJ is a capable man," Redhawk responded, his false grin settling into a more fond smile. "While we do depend on each other, he can look after himself. We work just as well apart as we do together, to insist on following him everywhere would only suffocate him and dampen that which makes him special. Besides, his specialty lies in espionage and, er, photoshop. Having me around all the time would draw too much attention and interfere with his work. I trust that he will return to me safely."

It wasn't quite what the iron dragon was expecting, but it made sense.

"Do you not worry about yours?" Redhawk asked.

"’Course I do, but I can't exactly say he's mine. If you've got an 'EJ', and our names are supposed to be mostly the same between dimensions, then he hasn't even told me his real name." Gajeel looked away from Redhawk and let his eyes fall on the lacrima at the center of the plaza, a frown furrowing his brow. "Say you knew he didn't want you going after him, but he was in real trouble and couldn't get himself out of it, would you go then?"

Redhawk followed Gajeel's gaze, comprehension slowly dawning. "I would without hesitation. But, knowing that, you can't expect to be rewarded in companionship for it. If he’s the opposite of my EJ, I don’t imagine he’s especially the cuddling type..."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Both Gajeel’s lapsed into silence, the stifling air broken only by the marching cadence echoing up from the plaza. Perhaps the lacrima was large enough to contain all of Magnolia. Cram every inch of it with people, and they might just fit.

"He's down there, somewhere," Gajeel said at length. "He has to be."

"If he is, then we will find him. I've got your back, me."

Chapter 11: Get Past Yourself

Summary:

Chapter features: a lot of hopping (because fuck Edolas), redhead-on-redhead arguments, and a brief mention of Erza hating the mere concept of photoshop.

Notes:

I swear I meant to post this earlier. Have some headcanons and small character development before things get turned up a notch. B)

Chapter Text

"Poison dragons are a rare type of dragon almost always found in damp biomes. From swamps to rainforests to shorelines, they are one of the most adaptable breeds… though temperament varies from individual to individual."~ Dragon Historia, pg. 131

Chapter Twelve: Get Past Yourself

Team Gajeel had succeeded... sort of.

At first Gajeel wasn't so sure about using his Iron Dragon's Roar on the giant lacrima; what if it broke the damn thing? But Redhawk assured him - waving some notes he had stolen from the royal guard - that dragon magic was the antidote to the Anima's crystalization. Gajeel had been hoping for Cobra, at least with his hearing things would have gone faster. Instead...

"So you are unaware of where anyone else is," Erza surmised.

"A-at this time, no," Redhawk said. He shifted uneasily, something about Titania made the reporter very, very nervous. "We were under the belief that your entire city was in that lacrima, but imagine our surprise when we found only you two."

"This isn't good," Gray commented. Gajeel could have sworn the guy was wearing shoes not two seconds earlier.

"EJ hasn't come back yet, he may know more," Redhawk offered.

"EJ?" Gray turned to the reporter.

"The Edolas-version of Cobra," Gajeel explained. "He's good at knowing things, like our Cobra, and photoshop. He can't talk, though."

Erza, under her breath, muttered: "Photoshop's a despicable skill."

Gray glanced at her. "I... don't think that's what we need to focus on, Erza."

"Anyways," Gajeel pushed on, "Mystogan said the only ones that won't be in a lacrima are dragonslayers, like me, 'n' Salamander, and Wendy - wasn't so sure of Cobra, since he's already half-lacrima."

"Right, the implant," Gray sighed, now sans a shirt. "So dragonslayer magic is the only kind that works here? Man, flame-for-brains is gonna hang this over my head for a while."

Erza held out an armored hand, clenching slowly as a sword formed in a quick flash. "My magic still works fine."

Redhawk jumped back at the sudden appearance of a weapon, visibly paling, almost hiding behind Gajeel. "M-my current theory is that the magic that once existed in this world, well, uh, it was only present in lacrima and enchanted items - the only ones who can use it without an item or lacrima are the Exceed. So it would make sense that if your magic relies on items, yours would still work here."

"Mystogan said our magic only kept us dragons out of the lacrima," Gajeel said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bottle of x-pills that the S-class mage had given before his departure. "Caster-types gotta take one of these to use magic. Including Salamander and Wendy. But I haven't been able to find them yet."


 

Stealth. It was their best bet if they were going to find the rest of the guild and Magnolia. It was why, after their party swapped out the Lucy's, they had opted to use some quiet underground paths.

The paths were supposedly old catacombs, winding through small caverns that split off onto other passageways. They were supposed to be abandoned. Supposed to be.

In the dim torch light of the cavern, Cobra couldn't believe he was looking at… well, himself. Or a version of himself that took casual wear to the extreme; Cobra sneered at the too-big white zippered hoodie, loose red t-shirt, and black cargo shorts this other version wore. The guy didn't even brush his hair!

Natsu excitedly turned to Cobra. "You live underground in this universe! You're a hobo moleman!"

Cobra breathed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Natsu, no," Lucy pulled him back a few steps, sighing almost as deeply as Cobra.

"This must be the 'EJ' the other Lucy was mistaking you for, Cobra," Wendy quietly pointed out.

EJ reached into his camera bag for a notepad and scribbled down a short greeting. [HELLO, EARTHLANDERS! HELLO, OTHER ME! :) ]

"He knows who we are." Carla blinked in mild surprise.

[YOUR GAJEEL CAME BEFORE YOU GUYS DID. I KNOW ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED FROM HIM. WE'RE LOOKING FOR YOUR FRIENDS.]

"But why are you down here?" Lucy asked.

What he wrote down matched up with his thoughts, only delayed by a few seconds of writing. [ROYAL PLAZA IS ABOVE US - IT'S CRAWLING WITH GUARDS. I AM TRYING TO AVOID THEM.]

Natsu chuckled. "I guess you're on the bad side of the law in every universe, huh, Cobra."

Cobra side-eyed Natsu, the look conveying that he would remember that comment later. "Look, other-me-"

[CALL ME EJ.]

Cobra winced at that, knowing exactly where that name came from. "EJ," he breathed, stuffing down any negative feelings he had on the name, "Do you know the way out? Or to Gajeel?"

EJ clicked his tongue and a smug smirk spread across his face. Oh? He said we weren't together in Earthland and yet here I am looking for him. But before EJ could pen a reply, Cobra interrupted: "It isn't like that and you know it."

EJ's face scrunched. What the-? I didn't even write that out.

"He can hear your thoughts," Lucy explained. Cobra could hear that she was trying to usher things along quicker, and he had to agree with her reasoning. "You don't have to write anything down."

Wait, really? EJ tilted his head quizzically.

"Yes," Cobra confirmed.

Well. Fuck. EJ crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, already defeated. Why did you wait to tell me? I drew a smiley face and everything!

Happy jumped up and latched himself onto Natsu's shoulder. "What'd he say?"

"He's thinking." Was all Cobra said on it.

Okay. EJ put away his notepad and came back to the matter at hand. I can't take you back the way I came. I wasn't kidding when I said I was running from the royal forces.

"He says he may have lead some of the royal army down here while he was running," Cobra translated EJ's thought.

THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID! EJ huffed childishly.

"I can hear them down that way," Cobra pointed down one of the other passages. "There's a very angry woman barking orders like she's heralding the end of the world."

EJ jumped at the description. Knightwalker!

"We don't know who that is," Cobra reminded EJ.

She's captain of the 2nd Magic War Division. Long red hair. Not on our side. EJ pantomimed having long hair, and then swung an imaginary polearm. Scary!

"Edolas Erza?!" Natsu immediately understood and gasped in horror. He grabbed EJ by the shoulders and shook him. "We gotta go whatever way goes away from any angry Erza!"

The corridor that EJ had shown them was much more narrow than the one that their group had wandered down, only wide enough for two people at a time. It was damp and it was musty and the sounds bounced and echoed off the walls in a way that every time someone scuffed their shoe on the broken stone underneath, it made Cobra wince. Or maybe it was the way it felt like his knees didn't want to work, like it took extra work to extend his legs fully.

Why the snake name? EJ quietly traced a faint scar on his throat. The question was obviously meant for Cobra.

A memory of a snake bite that lead to paralyzed vocal chords replayed in an instant for EJ, and so Cobra at least understood where the question had come from.

Cobra idly tongued his sharp fangs inside his mouth, debating on giving an answer. On one hand, it wasn't something Cobra liked to think about; on the other, if anyone deserved to know, it was… well, himself. Sorta. He glanced to the others, who were more preoccupied with discussing how they were going to get away from the army (and Erza) chasing them. Cobra spoke low enough for only EJ to hear: "In Earthland, 'EJ' died a long time ago."

Zombie…? EJ tilted his head in a curiously cute motion. Seeing such an adorable expression on his own face was sickening.

"No." Cobra sighed. "It just… I didn't- being Eri- Look. The name doesn't bring up the best memories for me. Just leave it at that."

EJ only nodded, understanding.

Walking in silence with his Edolas counterpart for another minute or two, Cobra paused, holding up a hand as a signal for the others to stop as well.

"The path forks up ahead," Cobra stated.

Natsu glanced around the two redheads, sizing up each tunnel ahead. "Which way is quickest?"

Right goes to the castle catacombs, left lets out on the canal to circle around to the plaza, EJ explained with a flourish of his hands. There's likely more lacrima from your town inside the castle walls. He held his hands close, but apart, each with one finger held up. We should split up here, at least one of you dragonslayers in each group.

Cobra's ears twitched. "Why is that important?"

Oh. EJ blinked. Gajeel - my Gajeel - thinks that dragon magic will be able to reverse the Anima's effects. Your friends should just pop right out if-

"You didn't think to mention that before?!"

Sorry. I forgot. EJ scratched the back of his head.

"Um, what did he say?" Wendy asked from next to Lucy.

Cobra sighed. "He says the right fork goes to the castle catacombs. There may be more lacrima from Magnolia in the castle," Cobra translated, pointing to the right. "Left goes outside and back the way we came. He thinks we should split up: at least one dragonslayer in each group."

"Only one in each group," Carla repeated skeptically. She placed a paw on her hip, her white tail held high and rigid.

Cobra reached a hand inside his coat and retrieved the bottle of X-pills. "Dragon magic saved us from being sucked up into the Anima, sounds like it'll also reverse the lacrimization." He quickly popped the top of the bottle and dry swallowed one of the pills for good measure… though he swore it felt like they were wearing off quicker than Mystogan said they would.

Carla hummed in brief thought, Cobra could hear the cat agreeing with the logic of the plan. In the back of his mind, he almost couldn't believe that this was his life now: stuck in a parallel dimension, his joints now worse than an old geezer's, trying to compromise with a little talking white cat.

Natsu only stared at the bottle as the poison dragon waved it in his direction. "Don't you need to hold on to those?"

Cobra quickly held the bottle away from Natsu. "Don't want it, Pinkie? Fine. Whirlwind, you're a healer, you take it."

Wendy choked out a panicked noise as she tried to catch the bottle. "Why me?!" But when the bottle was firmly in her hands, her fingers gripped it and her eyes sparked with determination. She nodded, if a little unsurely.

"Gajeel's got the other bottle. This guy-" Cobra grabbed EJ's sleeve, not willing to say his name out loud "- and I will take the left tunnel and meet up with him. You guys take this bottle and go right. We'll cover more ground if we split up."

"I don't blame you for chickening out. This is the last chance to turn back," Happy taunted in a troublesome tone. EJ stuck his tongue out at him.


With the Stripper and Titania off trying to find other survivors, Gajeel's mind wandered back up to the sky. Namely, how the hell they were going to get everyone home through the Anima portal. Was it like a vacuum? Was there a reverse-suck?

"Are you still thinking on what we spoke of earlier?" Redhawk's voice snapped him back to the matter at hand, just in time for Gajeel to avoid tripping over a loose flagstone in the path.

That's right. He and Redhawk were going to meet up with EJ and see what he found out in the plaza. The Edolas Catacombs ran under the whole capital and a good distance beyond. It had lots of exit points, though Redhawk seemed sure that EJ would use one of the ones along the canal.

Gajeel kicked the flagstone piece he almost tripped over, his steel-toed boot chipping a corner of it off and sending it sailing into the dry canal.

Gajeel let out a neutral grunt and gave an idle sniff. "Bein' here, it's clearing my head a little. Guess I didn't think my dragon magic was clouding my thoughts that much. Really thinkin' I owe Cobra a talk after all this." Maybe an apology for breaking into the hotel room, but the light tugging in his pants told him that an apology for anything else that night was out of the question.

"Clouding your thoughts," Redhawk's brows drew low and he pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Magic can do that in your world?"

Gajeel gave a hard, one-shouldered shrug. "Older the magic, the stronger the side effects." He tapped one of his nose studs for emphasis. "Sometimes it messes with your head, other times it gives ya a makeover."

The reporter's features scrunched as it dawned on him that every single one of Gajeel's piercings weren't actually piercings. "So those are... they're spikes. Like on a dragon. Because your father was a- ah, okay. I understand now."

"I take it you weren't raised by a metal dragon named Metalicana?"

"Well, actually, I was raised by a Metalicana Taroth," Redhawk admitted, fixing his glasses on his nose. "But he wasn't a dragon. He was a friend of my mother's, or so I'm told, and he was an accomplished author."

At this, Gajeel let out a hearty laugh, practically doubling over. "I don't think my wyvern-fucker father even knew what a book was!" he wheezed.

"B-but he wasn't my father," Redhawk deflated.

"Yeah, yer ma just left you with a guy she knew really well, eh?"

Redhawk turned absolutely red. "And in your world she just left you with a wild dragon?"

Both Gajeel's locked eyes for a moment before they both burst out laughing.

The tingling of his scales under his skin alerted Gajeel, his magic reacting like goosebumps to the chill. The flagstone he'd tried to kick only moments before rattled, the sound of a metal latch underneath clicking open as the stone rose up from the ground like a hatch.

A shock of crimson red hair appeared as EJ's head popped up. He waved, then pointed below him, before climbing out of the hole.

"You made it!" Redhawk rushed over to help EJ climb up. EJ held up two bent fingers, slithering them down through the air, followed by more fast hand movements; hand signs that Redhawk clearly understood. "Slow down. What do you mean 'snake'?"

"He means me," said the second redhead, emerging from the same hole.

Redhawk froze and practically buckled under Cobra's hard gaze, but Gajeel didn't waiver. Not for a second.

"Was wonderin' when you'd drag yourself outta the gutter," Gajeel grinned, barely containing his relief and his glee.

"No thanks to you," Cobra spat back, but his words were missing his usual venom. Gajeel swore he seemed almost… tired. He pulled himself completely out of the hole.

Now that caught Gajeel off guard. "Yeah, well, last time I saw you, you said you wanted space. A whole 'nother universe ain't enough space for you?"

Cobra… actually seemed to pause at Gajeel's words. "I've been stuck with Salamander's squad and another me. Between making sure they didn't do something stupid and jeopardize everything, I haven't really had that much space."

EJ huffed at Cobra's words.

"And you forgot to tell me about the dragon magic and wasted time drawing smiley faces," Cobra folded his arms across his chest and EJ continued to silently protest. "No, I'm not saying 'thank you', I could have found my way here on my own."

Gajeel didn't need to know sign language to know what EJ meant by the middle finger he stuck up. He couldn't help but snicker.

Redhawk, standing behind EJ, placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders. "Yes. Well. The Royal Guard has mobilized. Perhaps we should continue this reunion elsewhere?"

Chapter 12: First Unison Raid, pt 1

Notes:

Original version of this chapter was really long, so it's been split into 2 parts.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Dragons are one of the few species who rely on magic as part of their courtship rituals…" ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 69

Chapter Twelve: First Unison Raid, pt 1

Redhawk and EJ's apartment wasn't big, but there was still space for all four of them to try to figure out their next step. The Earthlanders took up the small living area while the Edolans surveyed notebooks and clippings spread out on the kitchen table.

Gajeel sat in a worn-out armchair across from the couch he had once slept on. He closed his eyes, listening to their Edolas-versions go over their intel and notes, trying not to think about the sounds he overheard the last time he'd been in their living room.

"That's disgusting," Cobra mumbled. He pressed back against the plush couch, trying to give off a nonchalant vibe but something seemed oddly stiff about him. Stiff and tired, plus Cobra's scent had changed too - Gajeel couldn't place how, and it made the iron dragon's scales shudder and writhe under his skin. "Who'd ever invite you to bed?"

"S'not what you were sayin' at the motel a couple days ago, with all your championship dick ridin' and moaning," Gajeel threw back, resting his cheek on his knuckles. He smirked as he enjoyed the deeply offended blush that overtook Cobra's whole face. "Y'know, before you ruined my clothes and kicked me out ass-naked."

And, shit. The conversation needed to happen. Gajeel figured it might as well happen now. In the apartment of their other-world copies, who were dating. Plus, there was punching that needed to be done soon anyways.

Gajeel thought that after that night everything would have been different. From what Metalicana had told him, it should have been. Their dragon sides, their magics, were supposed to… merge? Link? Do something? His dad had never been specific about the after parts, now that Gajeel briefly thought back on it. Gajeel's part had been plenty willing and he'd thought Cobra's had been as well.

The dark-haired Dragonslayer roughly scratched at his chin. "If I'd known you'd flip out like that..."

Cobra frowned. He folded his arms across his chest and crossed his leg over his knee, pretending like his face wasn't almost as red as his hair. "It might have been an overreaction."

Gajeel froze, blinking once, twice, five times, a thousand times as if he had misheard.

"But you've also been skulking around, muttering about 'mates', like some fucking creep."

At that, Gajeel snorted stubbornly and decided that looking at the wall was suddenly very important.

"Yeah, well." Gajeel ground his fangs together in a visible grimace. "I kinda had an idea 'bout what I was doing, but I didn't really know how hard the dragon stuff would hit me." Gajeel scratched idly at his chin again, giving a shrug. "Like you heard, it ain't really happened to me before."

"'Dragon stuff', really. That's your excuse for sticking your shark-nose everyplace?"

Gajeel, for once, started turning red. "Y'know. The dragon stuff. The tails and the scales?"

"No, because that sounds like some kind of furry porno."

Gajeel snorted. "It's part of being a dragon, alright? And before ya get all hissy with me, that 'dragons are extinct' or whatever, we're both Dragonslayers. We both got dragon in us. It comes with its own hang ups like every other magic, 'cept worse 'cause it's old. Didn't nobody teach you this shit, Slitherfuck?"

"No." There was something in the way that Cobra said it that hit Gajeel hard. His tone was sarcastic, but the words didn't feel that way. "It's not like I was handed an instruction manual after being implanted with dragon lacrima against my will."

Gajeel looked right at Cobra. "You really didn't get to choose to get your implant?"

The more Gajeel thought on it, the more it made sense why he had found Laxus and Cobra being chummy that day. They were both New Breeds, both Second Gens. And from what Gajeel knew of Laxus, a dragon-infused lacrimal implant hadn't exactly been wanted either.

"What do you think," Cobra finally growled, displaying his fangs though parted lips. He seemed to mull over his words before speaking: "I was ten and my old Master expected my body to reject it like the others he tried before me. In case you haven't noticed, my element's a little more caustic than the rest of you. Everything I know how to do, I had to learn on my own and how to control it. Fast."

Metalicana might have been gruff and a huge dick, but he had at least taught Gajeel the basics. How to scent and track, how to use his scales, how to use basic dragon spells, the basic dragon language, the basic dragon stuff. Sure, he frequently called Gajeel a dumbass but he never shoved Gajeel completely out on a limb and said "figure it out yourself".

Gajeel could admit that Cobra was good at the fighting dragon stuff; he had nice flexible form and he had a nice flexible form. But hearing what he said, it was no wonder Cobra was bad at the non-fighting dragon stuff.

Cobra continued to glare at the iron dragon, quietly regarding him. His ears perked gently, and Gajeel knew he heard everything with his fancy ear-magic. It wasn't right that Cobra had no idea. He hoped Cobra heard how much he wanted to help - mate or not.

Gajeel leaned forward with a sigh. "Look, maybe when this Edolas shit is all sorted out-"

"WE'VE FOUND IT!" Redhawk shouted from the kitchen. He appeared not a second later, waving a piece of paper. "We've found where the rest of your city went!" He paused, looking between both dragons, and adjusted his glasses on his nose. "Oh, did I interrupt something?"

Cobra glanced at Gajeel out of the corner of his eye, violet gaze meeting red and holding for what felt like much longer than the split-second it was. There was an unspoken thrum that vibrated between them, something silently tugging towards each other.

"Nothing that we can't talk about later," Cobra said, standing and heading for the kitchen.

After the scene in the guild, Gajeel didn't want to get his hopes up. But at Cobra's words - implying they'd talk later - his hopes were getting up on their own, dammit! He found himself thrilled that the poisonous asshole actually listened to him.

But combined with the stiff movements and change to his partner's scent… Something must have been wrong. Talking to Cobra was never this easy.

"I heard that," Cobra snipped at him from the kitchen.

Nope. There it was. There was the Cobra he knew. Gajeel gave a stiff sniff and followed into the kitchen.

"There's a vacant sky isle not too far from Extalia that's the proper dimensions for holding a lacrima of that size," Redhawk explained, pointing to a map on the table. "EJ's pictures from this morning show that they were loading dispatches of legions, likely to guard it. At least until the disturbances your other friends caused at the castle to draw most of the guard back. Now would be the best time to strike."

Cobra leaned one hand on the table. "So how do we get up there?"

"Since you two have the magical capabilities to free those trapped inside, it makes sense for you two to go," Redhawk said, scratching his chin.

"You ain't comin', Redhawk?" Gajeel looked at his Edolas-twin like someone had just asked him to kick a kitten.

"And what would we do in a fight like that which you're going into," Redhawk shook his head, black curls bouncing from the motion. "No. EJ and I will cause a distraction at the legion stables so you two can abscond with one and head skyward. This is the only way."

Suddenly both Gajeel's found themselves teary-eyed. They locked in a blubbering hug.

"I'm gonna miss ya, Redhawk," Gajeel whined.

"It's been so great having you here, me!" Redhawk cried.

Cobra looked to his Edolas-version. EJ held his arms open, requesting a hug.

"I'm not hugging you." Cobra folded his arms across his chest. "You haven't showered in two days."


 

Cobra had missed seeing everything from so high up. He had missed flying.

The air was cool as the clouds rushed by, the pre-dusk sky filled with soft hues as the sun started its descending arch. Far below the ground became an earthy-toned patchwork. He could hear the horned, dark-winged creature underneath him appreciated a skilled hand at its reins.

"When didja get so good with animals that ain't snakes anyways," Gajeel bitterly grumbled from behind Cobra.

The iron dragon was seated right behind the poison dragon on the saddle of the legion they had stolen, flying through the clouds using Cobra's hearing as a guide to the lacrima sky isle. With his arms wrapped around Cobra's middle, it wasn't hard to tell that Gajeel had been biting back nausea since they took off. The nausea was so bad that Gajeel didn't even make remarks about how close they currently were.

"If you puke on me, I'm making this thing do a barrel roll and dumping your fat ass off," Cobra warned.

Gajeel childishly huffed: "EJ didn't mind my ass-"

And that was when Cobra gripped the saddle with his legs and pulled on the legion's reins to tip them sideways, then made the legion roll upside-down several times in quick succession. Never had the sound of a shout made him grin more. It was worth it, even with the way Gajeel almost cut off circulation to his legs with an iron grip.

"Fucking put us back normal, ya twig bastard!" Gajeel begged.

Cobra pulled the reins and righted the legion, barely holding in a laugh at Gajeel's expense. "Even your hard head wouldn't survive that fall."

It took a moment for Gajeel to reorient himself after the maneuver. When he did, Gajeel breathed too close to Cobra's ear: "Never seen you laugh like that before, Slitherfuck."

For the second time that day the iron idiot clearly took pleasure in the heat rising to Cobra's face.

After another barrel roll the rest of the ride to the lacrima was thankfully quiet.


 

They touched down on the sky isle, grass beneath their feet and the shining blue lacrima that contained their guild and all of Magnolia towering above them.

Cobra stood with a hand resting on his hip, looking up at it. "I've never seen a lacrima this big." He reached out and placed his hand on it, feeling it hum with its own life under his fingertips.

"Yeah, how the hell did we miss this floatin' up here," Gajeel said, staring up at the giant crystal. He stretched his arms, getting ready to strike… At least until his stomach grumbled. "When everything's back where it should be, I'm gonna eat my weight in iron. That's for damn sure."

"You're sure that Dragonslayer magic is what cracked open the last one?" Cobra asked him, giving a skeptical glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Took me two full Roars to get Scarlet and Fullbuster outta their lacrima. Might take some good hits from both of us for one this big." With a grin, Gajeel held up his other hand and willed it to change into a thick metal rod. "'Course it might like your magic better, since you're practically cousins."

Cobra had wanted to say something biting, but the distant sound of flapping feathers came to his ears. "Heads up," he warned. "We're not alone up here."

Gajeel wheeled around and saw nothing but clouds. But he knew better than to doubt Cobra's warnings in a fight by now. "Which way?"

Cobra turned his head, listening. "Circling us. Coming around for another pass."

"Come on out!" Gajeel shouted into the abyss. He pointed his hand - now a sizable jagged blade - at the cloud that looked most threatening. "We know yer there!"

"Incoming!" Cobra called out, right before the ground between them was burst by the length of an enormous red blade. They both dodged to opposite sides of the sword.

Before them hovered an Exceed. He was significantly bigger than the other winged cats in Fairy Tail. Hell, this cat was taller than Gajeel. More heavily muscled, too. Black fur with a white muzzle, under armor emblazoned with the mark of the Edolas crown.

"I'm with the Royal Army's 1st Magic War Unit," the Exceed told them in a surprisingly deep voice. "The Captain known as Pantherlily. This lacrima is essential to the operations of His Majesty, King Faust." He craned the red sword back, resting the massive hilt on his shoulder. "I have been authorized to use deadly force. Make one more move and you're both dead!"

"Big sword guy, eh?" Gajeel's scales fully emerged and both his forearms morphed into jagged blades. He threw himself at the sword, crossed armblades blocking the Exceed's attack. "Cobra, you handle the lacrima! I'm gonna take care of this cat."

"Fine! But keep him away from the-"

The Exceed's sword reared and smashed down again. The floating earth they stood on shook as a section of the sky isle broke away. Their stolen legion made an awful, spooked noise as the ground crumbled and leapt from the sky isle, gliding away into the clouds.

"-from the legion," Cobra finished dismally. "Idiot! How are we going to get down now?!"

"Shit-" was all Gajeel said before being knocked back by the Exceed's giant sword. He flailed his arms trying to stay on his feet, forming iron spikes on his heels as he dug into the earth. "Just get the damn lacrima, I got this!"

His priorities sure changed fast… Cobra couldn't believe his ears at how excited Gajeel was at the premise of having a "cat" like the other First Gens. But something told him the iron dragon's cat obsession ran a little older than that. …What's with him and cats?!

Cobra rolled his eyes and, against his better judgement, turned away from the fight. Gajeel was right. It was better to let the dark-haired man distract their fuzzy opponent while Cobra chipped away at the lacrima. He curled his arms upwards at the elbows, willing his claws and scales to spread down from his fingers to his elbows. The tattered remains of his coat sleeves smoked lightly.

He took in a deep breath, feeling the magic pool inside of him. "Poison Dragon's Roar!"

Red mist filled with flickering, burning lights erupted from his mouth - spreading along the wall of the giant lacrima. That section of the lacrima glew bright as it absorbed the power, ringing with magic, but it spread no further.

It was definitely going to take multiple spells if he wasn't smart about it.

"Poison Dragon's Fang Slice!" He flicked his claws against his palms and knelt down, then suddenly shot up high in the air in a shower of red sparks.

At the top of his movement spell he backhand swung one of his arms. "Poison Dragon's Scales!" he shouted, crescent bursts of poison erupting from his arm motion and spreading out in a wide scatter-shot to power a greater section of the lacrima.

The stinging sound of a blade slicing through the air rung out clear to him, he could hear it coming... but he could also hear that the blade's edge would never get the chance to hit him.

"Iron Dragon's Club!"

The elongated iron arm pole parried the Exceed's giant blade, forcing it sideways as it shattered in half, and allowing Cobra to land on the flat of the remaining blade.

Cobra and Pantherlily locked eyes for a split second before Cobra wickedly grinned and smashed his scaled palms onto the flat, his acidic touch immediately melting the remainder of the sword.

Cobra landed smoothly on the sky isle as melted pieces of the sword stuck fast in the ground beside him.

"You two broke my bustermarm?!" Pantherlily growled, half insulted and half incredulous.

Gajeel cackled in response. His iron claws flexed in the setting sunlight. "Don't think ya can just change targets like that. Ya wouldn't survive a fight with both of us, cat. Should be glad we're bein' nice."

The ringing from the charged lacrima died down, the glow from Cobra's absorbed magic dimming as the charge wore off. Cobra snorted out a frustrated puff of poison and stood. He was going to complain about being interrupted, about starting all over again…

The pillar of dark red light on the ground far below was what Cobra noticed first. The sound came second, heavy and grating like two stones being dragged against each other. He covered his ears.

"Incoming!" Cobra warned, right before the sky isle shook - nearly knocking all standing on it over.

Gajeel wheeled around on his heel. "What was that?!"

"That's the dragon chain cannon attaching to the lacrima," the Exceed told them in a gloating tone.

Notes:

I'm posting this as a general disclaimer: while Redhawk/Edolas Gajeel is an anime-only character, EJ/Edolas Cobra is my own original creation. (He's been kicking around since 2012, when he was made for an rp group!)

Chapter 13: First Unison Raid, pt 2

Chapter Text

"Like in most social species, the alpha dragon is not a being of breeding dominance but of protection. The alpha dragon is the dominant protector of their flight. An alpha makes sure there is order in their flight and that flightmates are safe and cared for by need." ~ Dragon Historia pg. 13

Chapter Thirteen: First Unison Raid, pt 2

They had done it. Extalia had been saved from the giant lacrima wrecking ball. Magnolia's lacrima had been reverse-sucked up into the sky, everything and everyone back home had been returned to its proper place.

Thousands of Exceed darted through the clouds, celebrating the victory with meow-laden cheering.

The damage to the floating cat island wasn't bad. Gajeel knew it could've been a lot worse if they hadn't all jumped in. For one: Gajeel would have been a pancake, squished between the lacrima sky isle and Extalia. That would've been an embarrassing way to shuffle off the ol' mortal coil for a former S-class mage.

The whole thing was being wrapped up with a nice bow. Sure, there were a few more people who needed a good punching, probably several punchings. But things were looking up.

And now that they had a damn second to breathe, Gajeel was still struck by the change to Cobra's scent. It wasn't harsh or rottingly sweet - outside of using his magic, the former dark mage smelled almost chalky. Earthy, dry with a dull edge.

Guesswork wasn't Gajeel's strongest point. But even he had enough sense to piece together that something was definitely wrong.

It was on the windswept edge edge of Extalia that he found the redheaded Dragonslayer, legs dangling over the edge as he surveyed the world far below. Quiet, focusing - listening, if the little scrunch to his flat nose told Gajeel anything - on the next thing they all needed to do if the remaining Earthlanders wanted to go home.

"You should really work on not stomping everywhere you go," Cobra told him without turning to look, "I could hear you from the other side of the cat kingdom."

"Your scent's different," Gajeel said, cutting right to his point. Arms loosely folded, looking down at his on-off partner. "Movement's stiff. And don't think I missed you lettin' me save yer ass from the cat's bustermarm. You could pull outta a situation like that any day of the week in your sleep! What gives, you catch a cold or somethin'?"

Gajeel watched Cobra dry swallow another X-pill - he had to have taken almost a quarter of the bottle Gajeel had been given. Could someone overdose on those? … Wait, could someone who was able to eat poison for breakfast, lunch, and dessert even overdose?

"How many of those did Mystogan say you needed again?"

"Two every three hours," Cobra answered him. He looked up at Gajeel from where he sat; eyes gently narrowing and a quiet frown on his lips. "I think Mystogan's math about these pills was wrong."

Gajeel's red eyes widened and he sputtered: "Whaddya mean you think he was wrong?!"

"They're wearing off faster than he said they would. Every time I use magic, it feels like someone poured cement in my joints." He held up his hands and flexed his fingers; even Gajeel could see it took effort.

"And yer still here, runnin' around in that state?!" the iron dragon's words were underlaid with a gruff concern. "You could turn into an art show piece any second!"

"I'm not that weak!" Cobra's thin fangs were on display between his words. "I've got enough in me to finish this Edolas trip. But if I'm wrong…"

"If you're wrong-?!" Gajeel spluttered, his upper lip curling back to mockingly display his own fangs.

"If I am wrong, and I end up turning into a statue…" his voice trailed, caught in his throat. "I… Look. You get on my nerves, but at least I know you won't leave me here."

He never expected to hear something so open from Cobra. But there it was floating in the air between them: Cobra trusted Gajeel enough to get him out if shit hit the fan. The poison dragon was so avoidant (and vengeful) that the iron dragon knew such trust was rare and special, not to be betrayed - like a cat choosing to touch somebody with its little paw.

That's right, Gajeel recalled, balling his hands into fists at his sides, His last group left him fer dead, didn't they.

Cobra had to have heard that brief thought. His silent, side-eyed glare could have leveled mountains - a clear warning that the subject was too close.

"The others'd never leave ya behind. This is Fairy Tail," Gajeel finally said. "This guild ain't like where you-" he swallowed, already knowing what kind of thinking caused reactions like that. He was guilty of it himself once. "... S'not like the shit-holes we both crawled out of."

Gajeel dropped himself down and sat next to Cobra, cautiously leaving space between them. "But even if they did, you're right. I wouldn't leave ya here." He gave a toothy grin. "You'd look much better as a lawn ornament in my yard than left here."

Cobra again gave him another sideways glance, weighing spoken words against whatever he was hearing from the iron dragon. A sliver of a smirk lit up his face and he sighed, a small accepting sound that sent Gajeel's hopes through the goddamn roof. "If you let birds shit on me, I'll haunt you."

"Wouldn't expect nothin' less," Gajeel agreed with a nod. He scratched at the back of his head, fingers going through his black hair. "And," he started, looking off to the side, like he was asking something scandalous, "D'ya think when we get back, we could try the bein' a team thing again?" It wasn't so bad working together. "We'd make more coin from bigger two-man jobs. And besides-" don't say you'd miss his snarky ass "-yer tryin' to save up to get outta the motels. It'd happen faster."

"Tell you what," Cobra said, tilting his chin up with a little grin, his fangs peeking out between his lips in a haughty smile, "I'll think about it." Gajeel thought he had been smooth until Cobra added, with a shrug: "If this's how you act you when you don't miss my snarky ass, I'd hate to see how fuckin' obnoxious you are when you actually do."

Being called out, Gajeel still played off the pink dusting his cheeks. "Just shove me off the ledge, why dontcha."

"It's tempting," Cobra replied. But his attention was suddenly elsewhere, someplace far below. His eyes narrowed.

Gajeel squinted in the direction that Cobra was looking in; there were clouds, sure, but the only thing Gajeel could pick out was that the ground was noticeably more visible than it had been when they were on the legion. "Nn? What is it?"

Cobra pointed to a stony circle on the dusty patchwork that was the ground, the ruins of what had once been a grand arena. He then covered his ears.

Gajeel briefly wondered what sound would be so bad, even for Cobra, at this distance - until he heard it. A sickening screech, the unmistakable groan of metal that resonated through the clouds, through the sky, shaking the whole of Edolas.

The arena far below cracked in two, the ground rising up as the glinting head of a great metal beast breached the surface.


There it stood in the marbled remains of a massive coliseum. The stonework beneath it cracked and threatened to give way under its weight.

Shining metal-plate body, sculpted exactly like the offspring of a mecha and a dragon. But it stood hunched, limbs not quite positioned like either sources of its design. What seemed to be a tail sprouted from the middle of its spine, mangled metal wings tangled around its own body.

One thing was clear: the Dorma Anim, the Edolas Dragon Knight, was not made or animated by any natural force.

But then again, neither were they. Salamander, Sky Maiden, Kurogane, and the Demon General were foreign entities in a land that was never meant to sustain their magic. And it showed in the way their magic was staved off by the anti-magic lacrima that was woven into the mech's construction. Natsu's fire had barely scorched it. Gajeel's iron claws left only minor scratches. Wendy wasn't able to blow it over. Cobra's acidic touch only managed to discolor its outer shell.

"Ugh, you stink like a sewer," Gajeel covered his nose with his hand, casting a scowl at Natsu. "I can see why Cobra was complainin' about having to team up with you."

"Better than smelling like a nasty junkyard, metalhead!" Natsu practically barked back.

"Do you two ever stop?" Cobra hissed at them.

Natsu bristled, his fists blazing with fire: "I haven't had my rematch with you yet, either!"

Cobra waved a hand at the Dorma Anim. "How's about you focus on that!"

"You know he's right, Salamander," Gajeel backed him up. "We can settle our scores after we finish knockin' this old guy's teeth in."

The Dorma Anim's gears mechanically shifted as its head unit turned to look at them. "I'd like to see you try," came the Edolan King's voice, diluted by speakers.

"We can do more than try." Wendy stuck her arms skywards, breezes and silver light gathering at her command. "O Swift Winds That Speed Through The Heavens!"

Wind and light combined under the feet of the older Dragonslayers, lifting them up several inches from the ground.

Natsu blinked, checking the soles of his shoes. "What's this?"

"It's a movement spell," Cobra explained. The winds building below him were chilly and strong, causing his coattails to billow. "I know a few, but they don't work on others. Not bad, Whirlwind."

Wendy nodded. He could hear her opinion of him wasn't what it had once been, though the adrenaline of the fight was playing a big part in that. Her spell finished charging. "Vernier!"

With a fresh burst the three of them burst forward with astonishing speed, delivering blows left and right to the Dorma Anim. When they needed more offense, Wendy changed her movement enhancement spell to attack enhancement. Natsu and Gajeel hit more often, while Cobra hung back more than once - listening for weak points... and frustratingly finding none.

Cobra skidded to a stop on the ground, calling out: "Gajeel, Natsu, incoming on the left!"

Gajeel maneuvered up and over the attack and Natsu dodged… right into the mech's glaived hand, which proceeded to smack him into the ground with all the grace of a fly and a flyswatter.

Gajeel landed heavy on his feet. "Your other left, numbnuts!"

"OtHeR LeFt," Natsu's mocking could be heard over the mech's hydraulics.

"We ain't makin' much of a dent," Gajeel grunted. He turned to Cobra. "You got any idea where we need to throw our punches yet?"

Cobra shook his head. "Thing's sealed up tight with anti-magic protection, they did a pretty good job of covering potential weak points. My poison breath isn't getting past the air filters."

"Really weird time to talk about your bad breath," Natsu said innocently.

"Really weird how you can talk with half a brain!" Cobra snipped back. He pointed a clawed finger at the Dorma Anim's head unit, where ventilation openings hissed out steam. "Even with the anti-magic in place, I could melt the air vents with enough poison built up in the arena, but…"

Wendy looked at him. "But...?"

"It would definitely be enough to kill all of you, along with anything within half a klick," Cobra said. He then added, jutting a thumb at Natsu: "Except for Salamander. Apparently my poison's not that great against the element of stupid."

"Hey!"

Gajeel uttered a low, animalistic snarl that caught both their attentions - the short sound carrying with it the immediate meaning that he wanted Cobra's attention, and that Natsu should pay attention to their fight - before he turned his head to Dorma Anim. "Could you squeeze around the machine parts and inject poison from the inside?"

Cobra's ears perked, his head tilting to the side as he listened to Gajeel's idea. "That's risky, but it might work."

The iron dragon grinned and turned back to the sky and fire dragons. "Cover the front," was all he said before grabbing Cobra by the wrist and circling towards Dorma Anim's spinal tail.


The two of them held on to the tail while the Dorma Anim's upper chassis rotated around, focusing its missile attacks on Natsu and Wendy. The King hadn't bothered tracking them once Natsu caught his attention with big, bursts of flame - the fire was clearly more for show and and distraction, less for damage.

"This iron tastes bad," Gajeel groaned, biting back another panel with his mouth.

Cobra sighed. "You don't have to eat every piece, you know."

"I ain't passin' up on a free meal, even if it tastes like shit," the dark-haired Dragonslayer grumbled through a full mouth. He swallowed and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "This's a disgusting composite blend."

That wasn't the only reason the iron dragon was suddenly hesitating on their plan. He was starting to second-guess it, Cobra could hear that he was worried… about him. If Cobra would run out of magic mid-fight and crystallize. Cobra had long been trained to push past pain and exhaustion, he knew his body could handle the abuse; but Gajeel could smell it, building under his skin, and it was setting the iron dragon on edge.

"Sure ya got this?" Gajeel mumbled, taking another bite. "Feels like every time we do a job together I gotta dig you outta some monster."

A small part of Cobra was… surprisingly touched by the concern, but a larger part of him found it insulting. Doubting me already?

"It was your idea, moron," Cobra protested, pushing Gajeel back. He peered down into the tail, working out how to best go about moving inside.

Machinery wasn't his specialty, but he'd helped Racer with enough project vehicles to know more than needed. If Cobra kept clear of the tail's drive shaft, he'd have enough room to squeeze along the hull until he came to the spinal coupling. From there, he would probably have access to the main engine-

"And if you can't get out?"

"Guess you'll have to come dig me out of another monster." The poison dragon slid his coat off - it would get in the way in such a tight space - and it fluttered down from the mech's height to the ruined stonework below.

Gajeel's eyes flicked to meet Cobra's. "Ya got ten minutes before I make good on that."

Cobra dropped down inside the tail completely. "Since when can you count to ten?"


It had been five minutes.

Truth be told, Gajeel wasn't sure they were going to make it the full ten minutes - not with the assault the nutty King in the mech was giving. He'd hoped Cobra would be faster than this; he usually was quick to dispense an ass kicking.

He's not in the best condition, Gajeel mentally kicked himself for suggesting the stupid plan, narrowly avoiding being kicked by the Dorma Anim itself.

"What if he got squished by the gears," Natsu suggested.

"He's okay," Gajeel dismissed the annoying fire dragon. He had started to feel the pull, just as Metalicana had once described, and it was still there if he felt for it enough. "He's still kickin'."

Natsu leveled a skeptical look at the iron dragon: "And how do you know that?"

Gajeel bristled. "'Cause I just do! Back off!"

Seven minutes. Red smoke started trailing from the Dorma Anim's back at the spinal tail coupling. Gajeel let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding

The King brought the Dorma Anim to full height. "One, two, three," he listed off, "Were there not four of you?"

"Maybe ya just can't count, old man," Gajeel spat at the man in the mech.

"Why you-" the King's voice was full of threat, as if he were planning on making good on it, but nothing came. "What? Why isn't the main cannon firing?!"

The repeated clicking of gears trying to shift echoed through the arena. It was all the chance the three Dragonslayers outside of the mech needed to deliver additional blows. The hits they landed were leaving sizable dents, until the upper half of the Dorma Anim spun around uncontrollably - throwing them off.

It spun rapidly, building up speed, its tail thrashing - until the King decoupled the tail, sending it flying into stone walls. Only after its tail was removed did the spinning stop.

"Very clever," came the King's voice. "Disabling the cannon core circuitry by putting someone on the inside. Unfortunately, your little friend didn't damage the good features."


Everything was spinning. Distance voices rotated around and he was unable to place which direction they were coming from.

"Was he still in there?!"

"Cobra!"

"You're gonna pay for that, old man!"

He had smashed into the metal shell when the tail had hit the wall, but he hadn't blacked out.

Up was down, down was up, tumbling over and over endlessly. He remembered finding the coupling. Melting enough of a space to shove his arm through, ripping out anything on the other side in hopes it was a manual switch that would open the vent to the main engine chamber.

Things stopped spinning when the whole stadium was shaken by a deafening sound - a familiar sound, three familiar sounds, three Roars in unison. It was loud, he knew it was loud, yet it didn't hurt, he didn't shirk or flinch from the sound. Instead it felt as if it almost called to him, a part of him wanted to respond as it coursed through him. Which was… new. Being an extremely loud, team player was not his MO.

He threw his weight against the dented hull and managed to stand again.

Everything hurt. But that wasn't anything new. Push it back. Swallow the pain. Shut it off just like he'd been trained to.

Was all of this worth not going to jail? Cobra wasn't sure. But he did know that he wasn't going to fall again because of another crazy old man who saw people as fodder.

Cobra emerged from what was left of the spinal tail in time to see the sky filled with a translucent darkness - magic itself being pulled from the air, streaming into the armor of the Dorma Anim, which blackened and shed additional pieces as it adjusted to the new influx of energy.

And the others lay at its feet, shakily trying to get up.

As the mech prepared to launch another volley of attacks… Cobra ran. Not sure why he was running towards the attack instead of only shouting a warning, he ran towards the others with trailing poison at the tips of his claws.

"Poison Dragon's Guard!"

He put himself between the others and the Dorma Anim, raising a wave of glowing red between himself and the attack. Though he normally used the spell to slip away from harm, his barrier could hold as long as he did; his pain was shoved to the back of his senses and so he withstood the volley.

He vaguely heard Gajeel mutter: "Holy shit."

Holy shit was right - he didn't used to be one of the most powerful dark mages in Fiore for the showy title.

The others had enough time to get to their feet and he fell to his knees as his poison dissipated, breathless. "What's wrong," he breathed, "I thought you Old Breeds were finally getting ready to retire?"

"You wish," Natsu quipped. The pink-haired mage swallowed a dry lump in his throat. "Thanks for the save."

"Everybody gets one." Cobra pointed to Wendy. "Twelve and under's free." He then pointed at Gajeel. "And you're in debt."

"Put it on my tab."

"I plan to."

"We've hit this thing with everything we've got," Wendy's voice drew their attention back to the giant dragon mecha at hand. "Enhancements don't work. Anyone have any other ideas?"

"I'm almost tapped out," Natsu groaned. "Maybe if we try Roaring again with Cobra's help this time?"

Wendy deflated: "But our synchronized Roar missed."

They needed something powerful, something that knew where to strike should their target try to avoid their attack.

And that was when Cobra realized it.

Out of all the Fairies who would consider working alongside him… Laxus was temporarily banished; Erza would nitpick him; Wendy wasn't able to strike as hard as needed; and Natsu had trouble listening to direction. But Gajeel… Gajeel knew how to fight with Cobra - sure, they'd bicker, but Gajeel would have his back through the whole thing - as he had every job they'd done before.

Even after Cobra had tried to kick him out, Gajeel still wanted to have his back. Cobra could count on three fingers the amount of people he could still say that about.

A tingling crawled across his skin; a tugging that took root under his scales. It swelled from his chest out to his palms, dancing around his clawed fingers. And from the way Gajeel turned to look at Cobra, he felt it too.

The iron dragon offered the poison dragon a hand up, and it, hesitantly, was accepted. Acid scales smoked as they made contact with metal scales that refused to yield and melt away.

If four smaller dragons weren't enough to down the Dorma Anim... maybe one big dragon could be.

They stood back to back, their fingers interlaced and hands pointed at the Edolas Dragon Knight as their magic swirled around them in growing gusts. Hard green and harsh red melded together into sparks of silver and magenta and other rhodonite hues.

Their combined magic ran through them, directing them to call out together: "Magic fusion: Unison Raid!"

Dorma Anim lurched overhead, it's great glaive-clawed hand ready to strike down on them.

Their grip only tightened. The words came to them both as if the spell was always waiting there, waiting for the two of them to be in that moment.

"METAL TOXIN DRAGON'S MERCURY STRIKE!"

Their merged magic produced an attack that was a liquid silver with a harsh magenta glow. It was quick, able to change direction at their whim. It plowed into the Dorma Anim with an initial forceful impact - and without its tail the mech toppled backwards, washed over by their shared power - before seeping into its cracks and crevices, disabling movement.

The quick silver hardened as the glow faded. The Dorma Anim's gears whirred and the hydraulics popped as they gave out.

The Edolas Dragon Knight did not rise again.


The high of the magic coursing through their bodies died down. Gajeel drew in a sharp breath, fingers unwilling to release his partner's hand, still in shock that it had happened.

Juvia once told him how it felt to pull off a Unison Raid. The calling of your own magic, the merging as one, the feeling like it was something you'd always known and always would. He thought she had been adding all that flowery togetherness bullshit because she was Juvia, everything had to be romantic and dramatic - but no, that… that was what it really felt like.

A master-level fused attack that either took a lotta years or a lotta luck to do right - he knew it wasn't luck, if anything Gajeel knew he wasn't a guy that lady luck smiled on without strings - and Gajeel had done it with Cobra on their first try.

"Sh-shit!" Cobra shakily uttered.

The distress in the poison dragon's voice caused the iron dragon to wheel around quickly. Cobra's feet were already anchored to the ground in a growing, blood red lacrima cluster. The lacrimization of his features was creeping up his legs.

The exhilaration of their accomplishment drained from Gajeel as a new, horrifying realization took its place. Cobra had used too much magic.

And it was Gajeel's fault.

Chapter 14: Nascent

Notes:

You ever write one of those chapters that you write, then delete, then rewrite, then delete? Yeaaah... [/bangs head on desk] This chapter could've gone a few ways, but in the end I made a list of things that needed to happen and rewrote it one more time. The only thing that stayed the entire time were the pointy ear wigglies. The wigglies melted my heart and sustained me.

FYI: "PECOC" can be said/read like "peacock".

Chapter Text

"A dragon may separate from the Flight in times of sickness or social disruption. Frequently this happens during the grieving process after the loss of a mate." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 15

Chapter Fourteen: Nascent

The sound of the guild hall wasn't what came to him first. Which was… odd. Sound should have come first, like it always did. But Cobra was tired and exhaustion clouded his mind. He couldn't remember what had actually come first.

He knew that he was laying down in a bed. That he had no shoes on. His coat was missing. The shirt he had on was too starchy to be one of his own.

Cracking open his slanted, violet eyes he saw a white wall and curtains hanging from thick wooden beams, sectioning off other areas of the room. Sunlight beamed in from a large window, lighting up the room and making the curtains glow.

The guild infirmary…?

He tried to move and his muscles protested. Everything ached and burned; from his head to his toes it felt like every single muscle in his body hated existing. His ears itched in a familiar way that he couldn't recall. Getting shot on Nirvana and almost losing his arm and shoulder again would have been almost comparable to whatever magic was used to turn him back to flesh and bone.

Cobra propped himself up on his elbows in an attempt to sit up. He had been right in his guesses before: no coat, no shoes, the pants were his, but the dark gray t-shirt was not… it was a couple sizes too big, most likely to allow for the bandages that wrapped his arms and abdomen underneath. It smelled like the guild's gift shop.

"Oh, you're awake-kina!" a voice softly gasped from beside his infirmary bed.

Knowing that voice, Cobra weakly turned his head to see Kinana sitting next to him. The purple-haired woman in frilly green overalls smiled gently at him.

"... Kinana? … Where-?" he asked, voice like a hoarse whisper.

"You're back at Fairy Tail-kina," she confirmed for him. "Everything's back to normal after what you guys did in Edolas-kina. But you were in quite a state-kina. All stiff and crystal... it's been four days, but we were worried you were going to be sleeping for much longer-kina."

Cobra wrinkled his nose ever so slightly. "We…?"

Kinana told him simply: "You helped save the guild-kina! A lot of us were worried, but I think Gajeel was almost as worried as I was-kina." She held her hand to her mouth in thought. "He always scared me-kina. But he was worried about you, so I've decided he isn't that scary anymore-kina." She glanced back towards the infirmary door, her mouth spreading out in an unsure expression. "The Master's been looking for him, but no one's seen him in days-kina."

Cobra closed his eyes and sighed at that. Gajeel had gotten him out - alive, at that. With how much Gajeel had been talking about forming a team, he had half-expected the iron dragon to be around when he'd woken up. His memory was fuzzy between the Unison Raid and waking up in the guild, but he did remember hearing an inner voice resonate with the unmistakable sound of guilt.

He thinks he was the one who put me in this bed. Great.

Cobra sure as hell wasn't made of glass, so if Gajeel wanted to sulk someplace, well, that was on him.

"He wasn't happy Porlyusica didn't allow him in-kina," Kinana sighed, moving her hand to her cheek. "'Family only' she said-kina. I was barely allowed in and your guild file says I'm your sister-kina."

"Who's-" as soon as Cobra opened his mouth a horrible, foreboding feeling gathered on the other side of his bed from Kinana "- Porlyusica…?"

"The woman who saved your life, you ungrateful little snake," an old woman's voice said darkly, forcefully. "Miss, please leave. I need to speak to your... brother, was it?"


She had to be at least in her seventies, with sharp, dark eyes and graying pink hair held up in a bun. The pale skin around her fingers was lightly tinted with various colors from various herbal remedies; something using sage and elfroot most recently, Cobra could smell. A force of bitter nature in a mauve-colored, collared shawl.

One thing was clear enough for Cobra even without his hearing magic: Porlyusica, Fairy Tail's chief medical mage, was not happy about having to be back in civilization… especially so soon after the Fantasia fiasco that had graced the cover of every newspaper in Fiore only two or three months prior.

"I restricted you to familial visitors for both our sakes," the healer started off. She pointed to the rickety end table next to Cobra's bed. "I had to remove your earrings while I worked in order to make sure I didn't miss anything."

"You didn't-" Cobra reached for his ears, feeling them in their true shape: longer, pointy... a dead giveaway. His ears shifted back as he leveled a sore glower at the old woman.

"I had to remove them to see what I was working with. Would you rather be a lacrima again? I can arrange that," Porylusica threatened, shaking her head. "It's been a long time since I've seen one of your kind, Elfaerin."

The redhead's ears pinned back further at the traditional word for his kind.

The only people who knew he wasn't human - that he was Elfaerin, or Elven as Humans called them - were the Seis, Kinana, and now this crone… and that was seven people too many. Despite her sour expression, Cobra could hear a note of consideration from the elderly healer; she hadn't been lying that she had partially restricted who could visit him for his sake. She saw enchanted earrings and knew that what he was better left a secret for the time being.

Like Demons, Elves were considered an Etheric race: once-populous, magically inclined races that were pushed to the edges of the world map.

If people knew there was an Elf so far South, let alone in a big-name guild, they would ask questions. If there was anything Porlyusica hated more than people it was people with questions... Cobra couldn't exactly disagree with the notion.

"That makes one of us," Cobra bitterly mouthed, his voice straining. The word she had used - Elfaerin - was the correct way to refer to an Elf in Elfish, but that was all he knew. It was just one more thing about himself he had little information about. He reached to grab the small gold rings, only to quickly pull his hand back to avoid being hit by a wooden spoon.

"No you don't," Porlyusica warned him with a shake of her wooden spoon. "You're not out of the woods yet. Your lungs had almost solidified by the time I started working on you. Those stay off until I know the delacrymati spell will stick now that you're awake."

Cobra's ears pinned back so far that the pointy tips disappeared into his hair. "I'm fine," he lied. He tried to give her a scowl, but the ex-dark mage was no match for the woman who might as well have invented the evil eye.

"You're staying put for two more days and then we'll both be free of this nonsense," Porlyusica told him in a no-nonsense tone that brooked no room for arguments. "If not, I can find someone to set up a barrier."

"I don't need to be babysat-"

"It's been thirty years since I've seen an elf. I'd almost forgotten how stubborn you all are." The pink-haired woman turned her nose up at him, moving behind one of the curtains to grab her chart on Cobra. "I'd rather not have to talk to any more people today, so if we go that route you'll regret it."


One day had passed.

Cobra set down the pen he'd been writing with on his lapdesk, using the break in filling out paperwork to idly rub his eyes, his ears relaxing ever-so-slightly.

He could see why Makarov complained about the few reports he sent to the Magic Council. Laxus's gramps may have disliked paperwork, but the old man was smart about what he chose to ignore and what he knew couldn't be avoided. A whole city had vanished into the sky and then reappeared a couple days later - there was no way the bastards at the Council would let that slide.

At one time Cobra was a person such reports were filed about, now he had to help write one. The irony wasn't lost on him. Knowing how to skirt the law had its advantages, Cobra knew what details to include and what to omit to save additional questioning down the line.

He wanted his medical hold to be up so he could leave. The infirmary was quiet, but it wasn't soundproof. Being so close to so many people for so long was grating on his nerves.

He could hear the brawls coming before they broke out. Broken dishes shattering echoed through the walls. Someone somehow falling from the rafters into the ruckus below. Natsu challenging several other guild members to fistfights, no magic to up the ante; that Lucy chick scolding him; the sound of Erza's despair as the last slice of strawberry cake was smashed in the chaos. Kinana dealing with a difficult customer… Gajeel was strangely absent. Cobra thought he'd at least mill around the bar, drinking shitty beer and eating his fill of silverware until Mirajane caught him.

Cobra had been so busy focusing on the sounds far below that he jumped a little when the infirmary door clicked open. He exhaled a breath of relief when he head the shuffling of feet that belonged to the Elder Fairy.

"I'm finishing my part of the report now," Cobra told Makarov.

The short old man with the smiling shillelagh appeared from behind the infirmary curtains. He was carrying a manilla folder. "I appreciate your punctuality about it, but I know that you know that I'm not here to talk about that."

There was a short pause, Cobra's ears perking as he heard what the Master was there to talk about. "Is there any way we could not talk about what you're here to talk about?"

"Oh," the Fairy Master chuckled, "Not a chance!"

"Figured," Cobra sighed and set aside the paper and lapdesk.

Makarov pulled a chair closer to Cobra's bed, its legs scraping lightly on the floor and making Cobra wince. "You remind me a lot of my grandson, you know. All that sarcasm, always trying to sidestep the tough conversations."

"Thank you...?" Cobra blinked, his pointed ears cocking upwards, not at all sure how he should take being compared to Laxus.

Makarov hopped up into the chair and set his walking stick aside in favor of placing the folder on Cobra's bed. "At any rate, Porlyusica's updated the information in your guild file. An Elf, eh?"

Cobra's posture stiffened. Eight. Eight people now knew. Why he thought that the old woman would leave that out of his medical history, he didn't know. Inwardly, he chalked it up to the whole turning into a statue situation.

"Yes," Cobra acknowledged, the word pushed out with effort.

"It's quite the secret you've been keeping, I don't think I've-"

"Seen an Elf in thirty years…?"

Makarov's face bunched and he stroked his mustache in thought. "Did I already tell that story?"

"No, uh, Porlyusica sort of did."

Makarov nodded knowingly. He leaned forward in his chair. "I don't like it when people in our family feel like they have to hide things, Cobra."

Though he knew they were coming, the Master's words still surprised Cobra and the weight of the words felt like being hit in the face with a shovel.

"I know your last guild was-"

The scar on his shoulder started to tingle uncomfortably, a sharp crawling, at the mention of Oracion Seis. Cobra placed a hand inside his shirt collar and rubbed in an effort to get it to stop. "Notorious...?"

"Could you let an old man finish his sentences? You kids today, always trying to hurry us old folks along." Makarov lightly huffed with an exaggerated frown. He shook his head. "I was going to say that it was not a good place. True, I can't say that I ever expected to welcome someone from the Baalam Alliance into our family, but you have surprised me. Your reasons for joining Fairy Tail may have been questionable, but you helped save everyone when not too long ago you were trying to do the very opposite. And I think that proves something."

"I didn't exactly go to Edolas with those intentions," Cobra admitted.

"Oh? You could have run the other way," Makarov pointed out, settling back against the chair. "Everyone was gone, you could have left and not looked back. But you didn't. You went to Edolas with the others to help rescue the guild and a whole city to boot, even at an extreme risk to yourself. Doesn't that sound like something a member of Fairy Tail would do?"

Cobra's face went slack, his ears falling flat at the realization. Shit.

"I know you keep away from everyone, but, even so, you are part of this family." Makarov's eyes briefly flicked to Cobra's shoulder, and Cobra could hear that he knew that the story behind the aching scar was a delicate subject. "I won't pressure you to tell me why you hid what you are if you don't wish to. But does it have a similar story?" He pointed the end of his shillelagh at Cobra's shoulder.

"No," Cobra finally said, his voice low. His gaze sunk to his feet under the blankets. "You know how it is. There are Humans who won't talk to Etherics and Etherics who won't talk to Humans."

"I imagine the problem is worse in the shadows," Makarov acknowledged and Cobra nodded. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed to one more mischievous and jovial. "Well, the incident report takes priority right now," Makarov ploughed on, "But we'll sneak your PECOC forms in later."

If employed by a guild, an Etheric had to register with a special branch of the Magic Council called PECOC - the Preternatural and Etherics Census and Oversight Committee. PECOC kept tabs on how many Etherics lived in a country, where they were employed, and other creepy big brother information. Supposedly it was for part of their namesake - census information - but there were always whispers… PECOC was why a lot of Etherics stayed away from cities and towns.

Cobra stared at Makarov in disbelief, too caught up in the strategy playing out in the Saint's thoughts to be taken aback at the notion that he needed to register. "Later...?"

"It's not a secret that I'm not a fan of bureaucracy or politics, but they do have their uses," the Elder Fairy said. "Once the Council is in the final phase of notarizing the incident report, we'll quietly slide your forms to PECOC. They won't want to make a big fuss about you not registering when you joined; that'd mean they would have to start the whole notarizing process all over again. Wouldn't be good for their image, especially not when the public is singing Fairy Tail's praises, so they'll record the registration quietly."

The old Saint's tactics were surprisingly underhanded for the right reasons. Cobra glanced to his own portion of the incident report on the table. He could hear that Erza had already collected the testimonies of Team Natsu and Wendy, the only pieces that were missing were his own and Gajeel's.

"You sound like you've done this before," Cobra's voice inflected upwards, as if it were a question. He heard that Makarov knew plenty of ways to give the Council what they asked for without giving them what they wanted - and that that was the way the Elder Fairy preferred.

"Of course I have." Makarov once again stroked his mustache. "You aren't the only Etheric in Fairy Tail: Exceeds, Demons, Dragonkin... what's one more in the family, eh?"

"Dragonkin...?"

"What you call the First Generation Dragonslayers. It's an old word, I'm old, I'm allowed to use it."

"I wasn't aware that they had to register," Cobra said, one of his ears cocking up at the same time as he arched a single brow.

Makarov waved his hand like he were shooing away a fly. "It's a new addendum. Went into effect shortly after the little spat between Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord. Natsu and Gajeel got a little too carried away with their rampage and it spooked the Council."

"That... seems about right." For both the First Gens and the Council, though Cobra held his tongue.

"But," Makarov held up a finger. "We can't do anything without the final account and signature for the report."

"Gajeel's," Cobra didn't guess. "Kinana mentioned he hasn't been around."

Makarov offered a single nod. "Hasn't been seen since you all returned from Edolas. He's not at home and Mira's confirmed that he's not out on a job. Though Juvia suggested a place he might go, out in the Black Mountains, but it's rough terrain. He's a seasoned tracker who knows the lay of the land, even Natsu has had trouble sniffing him out."

Cobra idly picked at the tip of his right ear. "You want me to go because I'd be able to hear where he's hiding."

"You're still on medical suspension, so I can't officially ask you to do anything," the Elder Fairy said as he hopped down from his chair. Cobra could hear he wasn't exactly willing to blatantly risk the wrath of Porlyusica. "Consider it an offer to go somewhere quiet."

Chapter 15: Twitterpated Trust

Summary:

Ya'll want a chapter about dragon dudes talking their issues out w/ a side of some fluff?

Notes:

There is a brief mention of severe child abuse in this chapter. Skip over Cobra talking about the Tower guards if you want to avoid this. You've been warned.

Chapter Text

"Dragons are found across all biomes. While there are notable examples of dragons living among non-draconic populations, dragons are still found predominantly in areas of wilderness. Habitat use by dragons is strongly correlated with the abundance of prey, absence or low livestock densities, road densities, human presence and topography." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 10

Chapter Fifteen: Twitterpated Trust

Cobra had a lot to think about on the long train ride.

He debated if he was going to be properly dressed for the cool weather that yellowed the edges of leaves on trees that blurred past. Backup shirts and shoes he had, unfortunately his favorite coat had been left in another dimension. He'd had to buy a new one before he left, which had cut into his already slim budget. Unlike his last one, his new jacket had a hood. It was still white, with silver triangular patterning in a stripe down the arms, on the hem of the hood, and on the edge of the coattails. It fit looser around his middle than his previous one did, the fabric was lighter in comparison, and the coattails were slit up the sides to his hips - which, all together, made for easier movement.

His fingers idly reached up to play with his earrings, which were back where they belonged, his ears properly hidden once again. Cobra didn't expect the enchantment to be broken, but after Porlyusica had removed them while he was unconscious he wasn't taking chances; it was obvious that he was not a favorite patient and she was anything but a sweet old lady. The hood was a nice backup in the event they stopped working.

It wasn't bad enough that he had to take an overnight train, enduring the heavy clacking and voices in distant cars, but, from what the Rain Woman had told him, this place where Gajeel would be lurking was a good distance on foot from the station. Out past a little village called Eyden, which Cobra had only ever seen as a speck on maps. Which begged the question of how the fuck had Gajeel found this place to begin with.

Could he have picked a place further out in the sticks? Cobra silently griped, pressing his forehead against the glass of the train car window. … At least it'll be quiet.

It was doubtless that Gajeel would probably want an answer about their "team". It was honestly the first time Cobra had a say in who he was on a job with. He couldn't deny that they were… decently efficient together.

Normal people eventually found him off-putting, but not the iron idiot. Gajeel rolled with the verbal punches Cobra dealt and gave some right back.

It's about the money, Cobra decided. He needed to save up to get a place of his own and with the bigger pay from two-man jobs it would happen sooner. It was about the Jewels earned, not the arrogant First Gen and how easy and fun it was to run circles around him. It was about the Jewels, not the way Gajeel had his back. It was about the Jewels, and not the way that moron's stupid, sincere, toothy grin made his own mouth curve and his heart skip a beat. How that night felt so different...

Cobra grit his fangs, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of that last thought.

Though still hazy, his memory was coming back to him, and Cobra remembered thick arms carrying him to safety, an inner voice fretting and worried. It was a stubborn, intimate thought that his mind kept cycling back to.

No one had done that for him before - charge off (like an idiot) to save him if he was hurt, pick him up if he couldn't move. Not even the other Oracion Seis. Brain and Zero were big fans of if you fell and didn't get back up, you'd stay there in the dirt. That day after fighting Natsu on Nirvana, he'd been left where Brain had discarded him, bleeding out and half broken. When the Council's Rune Knights showed up it turned into every dark mage for themself.

From his ears, to Jewel, to a certain Dragonslayer's toned arms - Cobra had a lot to think about on the long train ride.


Red eyes watched the pink-haired mage stalk by from the shadow of a stand of trees. Salamander was clearly following something from the way he sniffed at the air and checked the forest floor for tracks. Happy trailed behind him, breaking the silence of the forest with a slew of doubting questions about the trail of they were following.

Gajeel wasn't exactly pleased when he started to smell familiar hints of smoke and sulfur on the wind. He'd barely had two days to himself before Natsu had started prowling around.

Guess the Master's gettin' impatient. Even with that thought in mind, the iron dragon wasn't in any rush to go back.

One of the things Dragonslayers were renowned for were their sensitive noses and tracking abilities - and no one bested Gajeel at the hunt. While Salamander had a good nose, it couldn't hold a candle to the iron dragon's - plus the fire dragon just didn't have any damn patience.

Gajeel left a few breadcrumbs - an old camp fire, footprints, tree rubs - for Natsu to find. The fire dragon would light up at his "findings", then bound away looking for the next trace or hint without stopping long enough to consider how what he found made no sense in context of who or where he was hunting. The only one who asked questions was the damn blue cat.

Gajeel grinned from the trees. Salamander was all shot and no buck.

It was a fun game for a couple days, leading the fire dragon around in circles while always staying downwind and keeping him well away from the cabin where Gajeel stayed at night. It was fun, that was, until Natsu got the bright idea to have his cat lift him to search from the air. That had to be some kinda cheating! It was also a kick to his pride that he didn't have a cat of his own yet, either.

Except… Natsu didn't seem to be looking around. He was headed in a certain direction, that being back towards the nearest village. Gajeel wrinkled his nose. So Salamander was giving up, eh? Fine. It left more alone time for Gajeel, anyways.

But it made sense. The Black Mountains were a different kind of wilderness than the lower forests of Fiore; they were nothing like any of the Woodseas. Rougher. Rockier. Colder. The plants and trees thick and silent. The Woodseas had roads for travellers, but here the land had never known set roads. It made for poor searching on the ground if you didn't know what you were doing, which Salamander was very much in that category, Gajeel thought stubbornly.

What a fuckin' city dragon.


Eyden was small, almost quaint. Cobblestone roads and small cottages with colored windows. There was even a small fountain in the center. The kind of village you'd see in picture books about a princess and a woodsman, though Cobra preferred the movies where it would be the setting for a standoff between a devil and a huntsman.

Gajeel must have come out to the area frequently because the villagers didn't consider his presence odd or noteworthy when Cobra had asked them which way he may have gone. It was obviously a hunting village, so, if he was there to stalk off into the forest, it made sense. They remembered Natsu more - pink hair and a blue talking cat were hard to miss.

The woman at the village inn had mentioned a man matching Gajeel's description had rented one of the off-season cabins outside of town. After getting an idea of which direction to go, he had set off.

It wasn't as if he hadn't ever been in a forest. Oracion Castle had been in the Northeast Woodseas, but the Black Mountains were a whole different environment. It made for slow travel on foot.

The silence was nice, though.

… Or the silence would be nice, if it wasn't broken by the sound of distant branches snapping. The unmistakable sound of wings caught his ear, the notably loud thoughts of someone tracking his scent coming a second after. Cobra gave serious consideration to not stopping.

"Cobra!" Natsu greeted him with a small wave as he landed. "You're looking better."

"Feel like I slept on concrete for a week," Cobra acknowledged, his head cocked slightly to the side and his fangs peeking out between his words. "And don't be so casual."

"Yeah, those beds aren't comfy. I should know, I've been in them a lot." The fire dragon grinned with pride, ignoring Cobra's warning posture entirely. "Did the Master send you?"

"You were taking too long," Cobra confirmed. "He wants to submit the incident report before the end of next week. It was suggested that I come out and lend a hand."

"Don't you mean lend an ear?" Happy snickered.

"What did I just say, cat."

"Um," Happy mewled, hiding behind Natsu, his tail flicking in mild fear, "That we're taking too long?"

"Whoa, somebody's cranky," Natsu remarked. His thoughts buzzed with the desire for a rematch, which was nothing new, but his thoughts also echoed a not so soon, not when things were so weird with his at-odds Guildmates. The fire dragon was weirded out and a little concerned by the iron and poison dragons' behavior lately, that much was clear.

Cobra leveled a venomous leer at Natsu, who didn't seem to understand how close to the edge of Cobra's tolerance he was walking. Not that that was new, either.

"Anyways," Natsu turned to look out at the forest, "I can show you where I last tracked him, but it's pretty far from here. It'll be night and the scent might've weakened by the time we get there, though."

Cobra stuck his hands in his coat pockets. "Know what, why don't you just head back to the guild? I'll take over from here."

"But I've been searching for days," Natsu whined. "I don't wanna go back with nothing to show after gramps sent me out here."

"He already knows you've got nothing. Why do you think he sent me?"

At that, Natsu paused: "Because you hear voices...?"

"Oi!" Cobra bristled.

Natsu grinned, his fangs on eager display, and pointed at Cobra. "Fine, but when you guys get back, one of you owes me a fight! A real one this time."


The sun had started to set and the mountains grew dark when he started on the trek to the cabin he'd rented for his stay. It was made of tarred wood and smelled of pine, a whole two rooms heated by a barrel fireplace: a bathroom and an everything-else room, the bed was a pull-out couch. The small cabin was the only place he could afford with the money he'd had in his pocket when he left.

Gajeel hadn't wanted to stay in Eyden itself, not with the way his head felt so foggy for days after his return. Not with the way he'd been so wound up. He had been wound up and set off on people before, back in his Phantom Lord days, but this was different. He was trying to be different.

Nearing his temporary lodging, Gajeel picked up traces of another, more heady scent that carried through the wood: harsh yet musky, the sweet tinge of rot, and leather.

His studded brows knit together. That couldn't be right… it was too soon. That scary old lady back at the guild said Cobra would have been out for at least a week. Even if his head was foggy as fuck at the time, Gajeel still clearly recalled the woman nearly beating his skull in with a broom when she chased him out of the infirmary to work on Cobra. She had called him a single-minded, twitterpated lizard! Gajeel definitely wasn't single-minded or whatever the fuck 'twitterpated' meant!

Gajeel snorted, trying to dislodge the scent, but it kept grabbing his attention, growing stronger as he grew closer to the cabin. The scent felt like it was calling him, pulling small patches of his scales to the surface along his forearms. Light footprints in the dirt lead to the door. The soft glow of the fireplace in the window gave away that someone was in there - Gajeel sure as hell didn't light that fire before he'd left for the day.

His scent and the footprints outside, coupled with the already lit fire all told him that Cobra was inside the cabin. The thought sent a mixed jolt of excitement and anxiety through Gajeel. The pull that tugged at him was stronger now, too. He so badly wanted to see the redhead again, but he also wanted to avoid him. He hadn't yet figured out what he was going to say. Sorry? For making him freak out? For draining his magic and almost killing him? Sorry for everything? Gajeel sucked at apologies.

Gajeel gripped the door handle for a moment longer - his chest pounding. When had his heart started beating in his ears? He threw open the door with ease - maybe too much ease, because the slam of the door against the wall clearly startled his unexpected guest.

There on the sofa bed sat Cobra, half leaning on the arm of the couch. He looked at Gajeel with a calmness, as if he hadn't just jumped halfway out of his own skin at the sudden loud swing of the door, though his eyes were still a little glazed with sleep. The bed itself had been disturbed, the blankets rumpled in a way that suggested someone had been laying on them.

At the sight of him - awake and looking at him and no trace of that horrible red crystal - a relief washed over Gajeel, he hadn't realized how tense he still was until that moment. Relief washed over him and exhaustion settled into his bones as his body relaxed for the first time in days. He barely resisted the urge to scoop the other man up into his arms and collapse onto the bed.

"What're you doing here...?" he had meant to be more intimidating, but instead the words simply fell out of his mouth.

Cobra yawned, his fangs glinting in the fire light. "The… Master," he said, the word heavy in his mouth, "Said you took off. No one's seen you in almost a week. They sent Natsu to try to find you, but…" He rolled his eyes, giving flat and dismissive gesture with his hand, a wordless display that Gajeel completely agreed with. "So it was suggested I try my hand. Listened, asked around in the village, found out you booked this cabin."

Gajeel stepped inside fully and shut the door behind him to keep out the night chill. He waved a hand at the sofa bed. "So ya broke in and took a fuckin' nap?"

"You didn't lock the door," Cobra pointed to the door behind the iron dragon, sitting up to place his weight on the couch back.

"That's 'cause most people'd know better than to break into anyplace I was stayin'!"

"Most people are chumps," Cobra stated. His words were slightly cocky and, dammit, it made Gajeel grin just a little. "But now you know it's not so nice having someone break into the place you're staying."

At that, Gajeel snorted. "I dunno, we both had a pretty nice night last time," he said, a lewd smirk playing on his face, but his expression immediately faded as he remembered the morning after… and what they had spoken of before. "Or, I thought we did."

Cobra's mouth pressed into a flat frown as he folded his arms tight against his chest and looked to the floor. "I told you. That... was an overreaction. I-" And there it was again, just like before, that tone that punched Gajeel in the guts, a hard freeze in Cobra's voice that choked out his own words. "J-just forget it." Cobra sighed, his arms still held tight against himself, but his shoulders sunk with the motion. He rose and made to pass Gajeel to get to the door. "Be back at the guild before the end of next week." Strangely, no threat or remark followed his instructions.

"I ain't gonna force you ta tell me," Gajeel told him. This seemed to at least make Cobra stop before opening the door, his hand resting on the latch. The iron dragon's own hands balled at his sides, the tension in the room too palpable for his liking. "At first, yeah, I tried to. I thought you were just bein' an uppity, snotty shit."

"You were creeping around," Cobra threw back.

"Guess we both got shit that needs sorting," Gajeel gave a heavy sigh of his own. Not knowing what else to do with his hands, he shoved them in his pockets. "I meant what I meant back there. It… isn't right that you don't know. About the dragon stuff."

Cobra turned to look at him in only that quiet, observant way he could, as if his eyes could cut through steel while he heard every bit of a person. Violet eyes flicked down to the scales still blotched along Gajeel's forearms, then back up to Gajeel's face expectantly. "... And the mate thing?"

Gajeel tried to play off the heat that rose to his face. His own eyes flicked away sheepishly. "Yeah, I can tell ya what I know about that too."

He inhaled deeply and rubbed his hands down his face, taking a few heavy steps before sitting on the sofa bed that creaked under his weight. In his right mind, Gajeel enjoyed coming out to this spot - the distance from civilization and abundance of metallic deposits in the rocky area reminded him of where he had grown up, long before he had known people. He had hoped it would calm him or maybe jog his memory - when he wasn't fucking around with Salamander, he had spent the past week wracking his brain for what exactly he could explain. He found it difficult to recall details. Either Metalicana really had never been specific enough or Gajeel hadn't listened that much. Probably both, he decided.

He hunched forward, resting an elbow on his knee and his cheek roughly resting on his knuckles. He rubbed his forearm, soothing his scales away. His studded brows knit low in thought. "If I answer all your questions, you gotta answer a couple'a mine, okay?" he stated his offer. "I normally like a good fight, but I'm fuckin' ready to pass out. So no more of this running away crap. Deal?"

Cobra regarded him for a moment. "Fine," he agreed. "This… mate… thing, why me?"

"Why not you," Gajeel ungraciously snorted. Only when Cobra's expression turned tiredly unamused did he reword himself: "Your senses and your magic are supposed to tell ya who's… potentially your mate." Gajeel did his best to not look directly at Cobra. It was an awkward topic. Dragon parents - even crappy ones like his own father - usually taught their young about it, never another mate. "It ain't somethin' that's happened to me before. I wasn't expecting to get so-"

"Stalkerish?" Cobra said with a slightly haughty tone.

"That's how dragons go about it!" Gajeel huffed. "Might've skipped some steps, but I didn't know what I was doing! Only knew that you smelled so goddamn nice all of the sudden. Couldn't… couldn't get ya outta my head." He scratched at his black locks with his free hand. "Thought I was going crazy for a while there. I mean, we didn't get off ta the best start."

"You were tracking Laxus for his grandfather," Cobra sighed, "And interrupted our conversation."

"Well you kicked me in the back of the skull."

"You let me get eaten by a giant, mutant diawolf."

"Hey, you were okay bein' bait!"

"I did it to get Titania to shut up."

Gajeel shook his head. "Whatever," he gruffly, sulkingly dismissed. His eyes meet Cobra's and he pointed at the other Dragonslayer with his index finger before jutting a thumb at himself. "I answered part of a question for you, now it's my turn. Ya keep sayin' that what happened the morning after was an overreaction. Why?"


"I-" Cobra opened his mouth, though no further sound came out.

That night in the hotel room everything had been instinct. Nothing to hear; only acting in the moment without much of a thought or care in the world.

It wasn't like before - demanding, rushed, too-soon-made mistakes in the dark rooms of Oracion Castle, under another set of ruby eyes. It had been a long, far cry from the guards in the Tower who used to hold him down, the sound of jangling cage keys Cobra still listened for in the dark on bad nights, hands and eyes he still covered himself from though they were long dead.

It had been different - after their initial fight, Cobra had felt safe that night. Felt frustrated that his partner finished first, kinda confused about the spontaneity, but ultimately safe. Gajeel had listened to him, and, barring the black-haired man's own virgin excitement, he took that night at the pace Cobra set.

His ears picked up on Gajeel's thoughts, drawing him out of himself, and it briefly registered that the other man thought Cobra looked like he was cursed to be frozen in place after seeing a ghost.

"I mean, ya took my innocence and everythin'," Gajeel blinked several times in a mocking doe-eyed fashion. The iron dragon realized too late that the explanation he wanted was distressing and was trying to lighten the mood; Cobra appreciated his attempt. "Now how the fuck am I gonna get married and all that shit?"

Cobra gave a small, amused snort and shook his head. "You had other options," he said, unable to keep eye contact after being reminded that he had taken Gajeel's virginity.

"I thought listening was yer gimmick. Didn't you hear what I said? Your magic picks your mate." His face scrunched as if he'd eaten something sour. "Tch, and options. Like who? Laxus? Fucking Salamander? As if anybody's got anything to top you."

"Your shitty Old Breed magic has some taste, at least," Cobra quipped. Although his arms were still held close to his front, Cobra suddenly didn't feel like every part of him was frozen, like his voice was becoming unstuck. "I… I said it was an overreaction because it was. On my part."

Gajeel arched his studded brows as if that were obvious, but bit back anything further.

The poison dragon sighed, again unable to look at Gajeel. "I haven't… exactly had good experiences. In bed. Just leave it at that."

Red eyes stared at him across the empty space between them. Gajeel's face stilled as the meaning behind the words sunk in. Shock echoed in his inner voice, a crash of anger followed; the unrelenting, protective urge to make someone pay. He also briefly thought himself a giant jackass for his earlier "uppity shit" comment and Cobra both did and did not disagree.

"Okay," Gajeel promised. His fangs were on display, a righteous anger barely hidden, but nothing was aimed at the redhead. A soft quiet fell in the cabin, before he broke it with a tired, gentle: "So does this mean I'm a 'good' experience?"

Cobra blinked at him before looking away again, this time pink dusting his cheeks. "... Different."

"I'll take different." Gajeel leaned back on his elbows, carefully avoiding laying on his own dark mane, and the sofa bed creaked under him again. The relief that overtook Gajeel when he first saw that Cobra was okay didn't go unnoticed, especially now when the iron dragon was clearly fighting weariness and losing.

Cobra sighed. Sharing so much, being so open, he was losing his own fight with himself about his feelings regarding the iron idiot. Oddly, he found himself not caring. It… felt nice. Felt strangely right. Dammit, Cobra, he lightly chastised himself.

With a few silent steps he approached the bed and looked down at Gajeel. "You look like somebody should take a grainy photo of you and try to sell it to a conspiracy theorist magazine. Did you even take care of yourself after we came back?"

Gajeel pouted childishly. "That yer way of sayin' I look like shit? 'Cause you look like a goddamn zombie." He wrinkled his nose. "Smell better than one, though."

"You don't."

Gajeel craned his neck so he could look up at Cobra with a better angle. "Well excuuuse me, Your Highness, but there ain't a lotta places out here to bathe to your snooty standa-"

His words were cut short when Cobra bent down, his fingers tipping Gajeel's chin up a little further, and silenced him with a quick kiss. Gajeel's slitted pupils pinned as his breath stilled.

While New Breed Dragonslayers didn't fare as well with scents as the Old Breeds, there was still an acutely stronger sense of smell to deal with - and right then Cobra smelled something sharp in Gajeel's scent, other than the overpowering musk that he was doing his best to ignore, that he hadn't before. He heard Gajeel's heart practically skip a beat or two. If it weren't for his ears, he would have been crippled by his ignorance of extrasensories that came with their branch of magic.

"Go take a fucking shower," Cobra told him, pulling away and sitting down on the bed. "I'm not staying the night if you smell like a sweaty woodland creature that crawled out of a tire fire."

"... What?" Gajeel asked, still in disbelief.

"You heard me," Cobra said. He crossed his leg over his knee and leaned his weight back on one of his hands. He was certain that his own face was some rosy shade. "It's late and I want to sleep someplace quiet. No one at the guild shuts up. You can explain the rest of the mate thing in the morning."

"In the…?" Gajeel sat up fully. He stared at Cobra, still processing it all, before it clicked. He launched himself up off the bed and immediately headed for the bathroom.


Gajeel hadn't expected to run into Cobra again or make that much progress with the dragon stuff. At least, not in one night.

But now he had an answer to several things that had been bothering him - though his stomach dropped when he had pieced together what Cobra was hinting at about his reaction from that morning after their first night together. A lot of things made more sense now. Cobra trusted him enough to tell him - and spend another night with Gajeel afterwards. Gajeel was going to show his mate that that trust was not misplaced.

Though there was still some stuff to iron out things were looking up. Giddy wasn't a word he liked to use to describe himself, but, there he was, feeling like a goddamn school girl and grinning in the shower.

The shower was fast enough to wash off the day's sweat and grime, and he had to make due with the harsh-smelling castile soap that was in the cabin to wash his hair.

If his body was exhausted before, the shower only served to relax him further. The only thing that was keeping him from falling asleep in the tiny shower stall was the thought that he had someone waiting for him.

Towelling off and putting his pants back on was done just as quickly. His hair was still damp when he slinked out of the bathroom. Cobra was laying under the rough covers on his side, with his back to Gajeel. His coat was hung up on the hook on the back of the front door. It was new and had a hood, Gajeel briefly noted, which made sense. Cobra's old coat was probably still buried under what was left of Dorma Anim back in Edolas. His shoes were by Gajeel's boots near the fire.

Gajeel put three more logs in the fireplace before sliding into the bed beside Cobra. When he pressed closer, Cobra rolled over onto his back and Gajeel slung an arm loosely over him.

Cobra clicked his tongue. His hand reached up and brushed through damp strands of dark hair. "Your hair's still wet."

The iron dragon practically purred as he felt those brown fingers worked through his hair. "Seem to recall someone telling me to take a shower." At one time, he could never think of the poison dragon being so gentle, held so close, but as his eyes closed he couldn't think of anything but the feeling of Cobra stroking his head.

"If we do this," Cobra said, his fingers still playing with Gajeel's hair, "We need to do it carefully. No place cameras or the tabloids can easily get to us."

"Is it really that bad to be seen dating me," Gajeel exhaled through his nose stubbornly. "I'm tall, I'm strong, hell - I'm covered in fucking metal studs n' shit so most people wouldn't dare fuck with me." Even if his 'piercings' were a side-effect of his magic and less of a fashion statement, it was the truth. "'Sides, you could kick yer fair share of ass six ways to Sunday."

"I might be legit now, but that doesn't mean the people I used to run with are."

At that, Gajeel's eyes cracked open and narrowed childishly as his gaze met Cobra's even one. It took a moment before he put two and two together. And when he did he gave a wide, absolutely insufferably smug look to the redhead across the pillow from him. "Aww, you tryna protect me?"

Cobra groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling onto his side away from his bedmate. Gajeel couldn't see his face from that angle but he could see Cobra's ears turning as red as his hair.

"You are, aren'tchya?" A snickering, gleeful ghihihi escaped him. "You care 'bout me enough to try to protect me from the big bad dark mages!" Gajeel's toothy grin broadened further and he prodded Cobra's shoulder with a finger. "Admit it, Cobra: ya got a thing fer me."

"Wish. I'd. Fucking. Lose. It."

Chapter 16: And They Were Teammates

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"In traditional mated pairs, a dragon may bite the neck of their mate as proof of their claim. This creates a natural form of living link magic known as a Mate Mark. It is a physical, magical, as well as scented mark that signals to other dragons that an individual is unavailable to be courted." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 70

Chapter Sixteen: And They Were Teammates

Outside the small cabin, shadows skittered in the dark forest before dawn - quiet, save for the wind blowing through the lofty branches of towering trees and animals moving through brush in the distance.

A half-asleep Gajeel shifted, rolled onto his side. The cheap sofa bed underneath him creaked under his weight. He was met with another body in his bed, one he instinctively wrapped his arms around as he pressed closer.

It took a moment for him to crack his eyes open, catching sight of a peaceful and sound-asleep Cobra. The blanket was pulled up close to his chin and his mouth hung open a little, red hair splayed against the pillow like a dangerous halo. His eyes were closed and Gajeel didn't move for fear of them opening.

Cobra showing up so soon, them making progress as mates, Cobra kissing him… Gajeel had thought that he had dreamt the whole night and the evening before, as if it were some sort of weird, lonely hallucination caused by the events of the past weeks. But there was proof lying next to him in bed: warm and fully flesh… and drooling just a little. No trace of any lacrima swallowing chestnut skin, or turning fine crimson hair into brittle crystal.

And it was a memory that came to him then, one from when he was still so small - one that he thought he had forgotten. It was more of a feeling, more of an image, than a full memory. The quiet, longing way his father would watch out the mouth of their den, waiting for someone who would never again come back through it. Gajeel had no memories of that person, but Metalicana never forgot - he couldn't, not as long as Gajeel was there looking up at him.

The thought of almost losing his own mate made his chest tighten and ache once again. It would never happen again.

He would make sure of it.


Cobra woke to the unfamiliar sound of low whistling from above as wind blew across the chimney opening. The sight of bare rafters and the midday sun shining through the window greeted him as he opened his eyes.

Under the blanket they shared, Gajeel, asleep, was pressed firm against his side with his nose pressed into Cobra's hair, his arms secured around Cobra's middle, and a leg hooked over Cobra's thigh... The dreaded Kurogane was apparently an octopus cuddler.

And there, in the few sleepy moments before his mind caught up with the waking world, Cobra felt calm. Deep exhaustion had ebbed away while they'd slept close to each other. An indescribable warmth radiated between them, as if things had always been that way.

It was no secret, least of all to himself, that he hated touch; him touching others, other people touching him - both stemming from seperate events that lead to the same avoidance. He wasn't the only survivor from the Tower, being touched was a dislike they all shared on some level.

And his element was Poison. His touch destroyed, rotted, dissolved, melted, weakened, burned worse than fire. After the implant, he had spent his first month as a Dragonslayer not being able to touch anything...

At first, Gajeel spoke about it like it was something obvious that Cobra should have known about; like the weather. Dragons took mates. Your magic picks your mate. This calm was some kind of weird side-effect of the ancient branch of magic they both shared, a weird that Cobra was finding himself not minding. Enjoying, even.

And his magic led him into the embrace of someone whose touch didn't make him cringe away, someone who couldn't be singed by his toxic touch. Someone not entirely annoying. But… that benefited Cobra more. Cobra didn't know what he offered, why Gajeel was so sure of being with him - Cobra had been downright cold and venomous to the man now wrapped around him.

Gajeel was excitable and aloof about the whole thing at the same time. But much like his element, for the most part, the iron dragon had been both unyielding and patient with Cobra so far. And, for that, Cobra was thankful beyond words.

Fuck. Cobra mentally swore. He shifted just enough to bury his face in the blankets as if it would hide his own embarrassment from himself.

… Maybe not all of it was because of magic.


The click of a door closing was what woke Gajeel the second time.

He picked his head up from his pillow and immediately looked to the front door, worried that his bedmate had left. But the front door was still closed, Cobra's new coat was still hung up and his shoes where they had been the night before. Gajeel turned his head to see the bathroom occupied. He let out a small sigh of relief; Cobra had only gone into the bathroom.

That mystery solved, he blinked blearily at the midday light coming in through the windows - much too bright for his liking at that moment. He shifted in the bed, burying his face into the pillows. A hint of a familiar, almost maddening scent clung to the pillowcases and he instinctively rumbled a low, inhuman sound in approval.

Mine.

The soft static of the shower pierced his groggy mind and he finally decided to sit upright while he pieced together… well, everything.

Cobra had shown up the night before. They'd talked. Cobra had kissed him. They had spent the night together. Then Cobra had snaked his way out of Gajeel's arms and into the bathroom… So far it had been better than the last time they'd woken up in a rented bed next to each other. No shouting to get out or having Gajeel's own boots whipped at his head from across the room. That was more progress, wasn't it?

Plus, Gajeel was pretty sure that, unlike last time, he still had clothes. He briefly checked under the covers to be sure... yep, despite the sweet scent that still clung to the bedding, he still had pants. Amused, he chuckled at the thought. They hadn't done anything more than sleep; he was pretty sure he'd remember if anything else had happened.

They both had needed a good, long snooze - judging from the sun outside they had slept for a good ten hours. Gajeel felt incredibly rested, more than he had the whole week he'd been alone. Gingerly he pressed his fingers against several places along his shoulders and arms, checking healing wounds that he knew were still sore, and found most of them well set. He was in better shape than he had been in days.

Red eyes flicked to the bathroom door as he thought on it more. That was part of finding a mate, he briefly recalled. Dragons healed faster than other races, and different kinds of dragons had different healing factors - Gajeel had always been quick to get his strength back while his wounds tended to take much longer - often scarring his flesh as a result. A dragon slept better with their mate nearby, it seemed that healing happened differently, too.

A chill broke his chain of thought and he pushed himself up onto his feet to add wood to the fire, which had burned low during the night.

His tunic was still in the bathroom, which meant that he would have to be shirtless until Cobra finished draining the hot water. Not an issue. Outside of the fire and the thought of a good meal, Gajeel entertained himself with the thought of posing his shirtless self on the bed - trying to guess how brightly Cobra would blush when he finally came out.


The answer was: very.

Cobra was still drying his hair when the door to the bathroom finally opened, the towel thrown over his head and his hands working it against his hair, but it was obvious he was using that as an excuse to not look at Gajeel - who was laid out like a half-naked, shit-grinning centerfold.

"Good morning~" Gajeel greeted him, voice full of a mockingly husky purr. It was especially easy to do after spotting the blush creeping along his mate's neck.

"Just- just go get your shirt," Cobra uttered from under the towel, pointing towards the bathroom.

Gajeel snickered through his grin, swinging his legs off the bed and onto the floor as he stood to go grab his tunic. Cobra could try to deny having a thing for Gajeel all he liked, but his magic and that giveaway blush of his certainly didn't lie.

Gajeel had barely gotten his top halfway on when Cobra started: "So what were the steps you skipped?"

Pulling his tunic on all the way, Gajeel stalked back to the main room of the cabin. "What...?"

"Last night," Cobra elaborated. No longer hiding under the towel that now rested on his shoulders, Gajeel briefly noticed that his hair was down and not spiked back like usual. He also had more color to him than the night before, looking less like someone had sucked all his energy out. Cobra had begun to pick through the cabinets - sighing defeatedly as he found most of them empty or full of chunks of raw metals. "You said there were steps you skipped. For the… mate thing."

"Oh." The iron dragon scratched roughly at his neck in thought. "Think one of 'em was that I was 'sposed to bring you something strong I killed and you had to eat it." When his mate shot him a grossed-out, questioning look, Gajeel grumbled: "Well, don't look at me! It's not like this's happened to me before, either!"

"You know more about this than I do."

Gajeel sighed. "I know, I know." And it was very true that he'd never mated before, but he knew the theory of how it was supposed to work. "I wasn't lying when I said your magic points you to someone. You bite the neck of your mate to mark them as yours. After m- being-" His face scrunched up, trying to think of a way to make it more tactful. "After the mark and screwing for the first time, there's supposed to be a bond of some kind, a natural one."

Cobra's nose wrinkled slightly. Normally it was kind of cute, but coupled with the way the poison dragon's jaw set tightly, it gave Gajeel the impression that he'd said something he shouldn't have. "Living Link Magic...?"

"I guess," Gajeel said. He had heard of Living Link Magic, if but vaguely, during the Fantasia mess. It was old, advanced-level magic, that took a powerful and skilled mage to set up. "Not exactly the same thing, though. It's not as clear-cut, it varies between pairs. Always goes both ways."

"Living Link: Open Form," Cobra detailed after further thought, his features relaxing somewhat. "Open Form can be dangerous for all parties, but that's better than Tether Form. Tether Form is basically a magic leash."

"Figures," Gajeel commented. "Laxus knows it, too. Normally Dragonslayers can't learn any more types of magic. Seems like you Second Generation guys get to be the exception to that."

"Never used it myself. I only know about it because my old Master used it on us." Cobra turned his head away and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back while it was still damp. "Used the Tether Form. Gave us lots of reasons why he needed to 'connect' us to things. When we were kids he told us we'd get damn wishes if we went along with it. Now, though, I know most of it was bullshit."

"Yeah," Gajeel crossed his arms loosely. "My old Master never promised us wishes to get us to do shit. Nah, he had a nasty temper when things went wrong, even a little." He stretched idly. It had been a while since he'd even thought about the former Phantom Master. If he'd thought back on it a mere four months prior, maybe it wouldn't have left such a bad taste in his mouth talking about it. But after some distance and time, his memories of being in Phantom Lord had rightfully soured. "We did what he said and did our best not to make him mad. Helped if you convinced yourself that you wanted to do the same shit."

Cobra let out a small, empathetic sigh. "A person starts thinking that kind of stuff is normal after a while."

"Yeah," Gajeel sighed. "'Sides, he used to be one of the Ten Wizard Saints, a black mark on yer file from one of those guys is basically a red flag to every other guild not to take ya in."

"Fairy Tail didn't seem to mind taking you in after the Fairy-Phantom War," Cobra commented, his eyes flicking to meet Gajeel's.

"Didn't seem to care about taking you in after the Nirvana Incident, neither," Gajeel responded. "Though I guess the key guy in your case was Laxus." He paused, his amusement fading. Laxus had helped make the case for Cobra to join up with Fairy Tail; the guy wasn't exactly big on new dragons in his territory, Gajeel still bore scars from the Thunder God's fury. The question of why Laxus had helped Cobra stuck out in his mind, and it rubbed his scales in all the wrong ways. "How do you two know each other, anyways?" he asked, lips pursing in a sideways, suspicious pout.

There was a mischievous glimmer in Cobra's eyes before his mouth curved upwards in a troublesome smirk. "You could try guessing. But you'll never guess the right answer."

Gajeel snorted. "What do I get if I get it right?"

"Same thing you get if you guess wrong." Cobra shrugged, striding over to grab his coat. "A new teammate."


"Don't smell like each other, so can't be romantic history," Gajeel reasoned from his seat on the train.

"Hell's bells, no," Cobra shook his head, partly in amusement and partly in repulse. "Besides, he has someone."

"Hm," Gajeel hummed in thought, "Outfit shopping? Ya both got a thing for stupidly tight leather pants."

At that, Cobra arched his brows.

Gajeel grinned sleazily. "Though, I don't mind it on you-OW!" He defensively grabbed at his knee, shielding himself from another sharp kick from the poison dragon.

Outside of Gajeel occasionally making good on his threat of guessing, the overnight train ride back to Magnolia was passed mostly in comfortable silence between the two. Neither man felt the need to fill every second with words.

The sun was starting to set when the great arches of the Fairy Tail guild hall once again loomed over them, its halls filled with mages returning from short day-jobs or teams getting in one last meal before heading out to catch the night trains to their next assignments.

As the pair passed by the bar, Cobra stepped high and Gajeel almost tripped over the end of a familiar shillelagh.

"Ah, I see you found the bearer of the last signature for the Edolas report," Makarov mused, stepping out from behind the tall counter.

Gajeel scowled accusingly at Cobra, inner voice resonating with whispers of slight betrayal.

"Oh," Cobra leaned one hand on the bar counter and suddenly found his fingernails on his other hand very interesting, "Did I not mention the incident report? That has to be done before we can handle the team registration."

"He is right, Gajeel." Makarov placed both of his hands on his walking stick. "The incident report first, then you two can sort your business out. All you have to do is sign. Cobra, I'll get those other items ready for you to sign next week." He motioned for Gajeel to follow him to his office.

"Coulda at least mentioned the paperwork," Gajeel muttered bitterly. He pointed at Cobra as he turned to follow their Master. "You stay right there until I'm done. We ain't leaving 'til we set up as a real team, got it?"

"Just where do you think I'm going to go?" Cobra called after him.

Cobra shook his head, turning back to the bar to see Kinana standing behind it, having watched the scene unfold. She was smiling in a very gentle, very knowing, very troubling way.

"You could have told me-kina," she said, hands busy drying glass mugs.

Pink fought to make itself the primary color of Cobra's face but he managed to squash its attempt. "There's nothing to tell."

"Mmhm," Kinana hummed, entirely unconvinced. A sister always knows, she said mentally, knowing Cobra could hear her, though out loud she only commented: "Lucky that Mirajane isn't working tonight-kina. She has a nose for gossip-kina."

"There's no gossip," Cobra mumbled. He looked away, to the floor, and played with the hem of his hood as if to distract himself. "It's… still very new."

"It's good to see you trying-kina," Kinana admitted. She then opted to change the subject: "I've been training under Mira and Erza-kina, to fill in as Job Secretary when they're not here-kina. You both need to have an address to register as a team-kina."

Cobra sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought on the new obstacle presented. Technically, he was still homeless. And certain… events… would run the risk of him being recognized if he stayed at any kind of inn or motel in Magnolia… for a while, anyways. "Any chance I could spoof yours, until I find a place?"

"I live in Fairy Hills-kina." She frowned and set down the mug she had been working on to switch to the next one on the counter. "As do Mirajane and Erza-kina, they'd know-kina. No boys allowed, even if they're relatives-kina."

Right then a part of him urged him to use it as an excuse to back out of his promise to be on the same team as the iron idiot, turn back before it's too late. Things were… different. And he was starting to think that wasn't so bad. "Guess we'll need to think of something else."

"What're you thinkin' for?" Gajeel sounded, returning from the Master's office with heavy steps.

"Somebody around here has to, Metalface," Cobra told him, not missing a beat. Gajeel snorted dismissively and Cobra smirked.

"You both need an address to register as a team-kina," Kinana interrupted.

"Tch, not a problem," Gajeel waved a hand at the requirement. "He's gonna be using mine."

Kinana blinked. "Oh?"

Cobra bristled, his spine stiff. That had come out of nowhere! "You can't just say shit like that-"

"Stop stickin' yer nose in the air," Gajeel pointedly said. "I'm not gonna leave you to try to scrape by when I've got room at my place."

Cobra internally debated the offer for a moment. Moving in so soon seemed... fast. But it wasn't like Cobra had many other options. They could always say there were roommates, at least on paper.

"Oh, you're very bold-kina," Kinana smiled, knowing and mischievous. "Asking him to move in right in front of his sister-kina."

Gajeel's expression momentarily vacated as if he was doing complex math, glancing between Cobra and Kinana. "His sister…?" His thoughts echoed with the obvious observation that the two didn't look a thing alike; then the memory of following the two, tinged with jealous tones that turned to embarrassed static.

"Is he okay-kina?"

"It sounds like his brain was fried from that," Cobra said.

"Wait, was that why that scary old lady let you in and beat the snot outta me?"

Again, Cobra sighed and shook his head. "Let's just go find Titania and get the team thing over with."


They found Erza sitting at the counter near the downstairs request boards, thumbing through the great purple-cover book that contained the month's taken jobs and double-checking the stack of taken request flyers next to her.

"The probationary period is over." Her brows drew low as her eyes flicked between the two of them, as if she knew what was going to be said and was already dreading it.

The two dragons exchanged a quick glance and shared the same smug smirk.

"We're registering as an official team," Cobra told her.

"We really gotta thank ya for the introductions, Titania," Gajeel added.

"Is this a joke you two are trying to pull?"

"Mm," Gajeel gruffly hummed, rubbing his chin in fake deep thought, "No, don't think so. You joking, Cobra?"

"Make jokes around the great Erza Scarlet?" Cobra pressed his other hand against his chest, his brows shooting up in mocking innocence. "I would never."

Erza continued to look between them, a quiet shock playing out in the minute changes to her normally placid expressions. She finally relented to the fact of the new team before her with a sigh that made her armored shoulders sink. "It is... good to know you two are embracing Fairy Tail's tenent of camaraderie and forming a team."

"Thank you," Cobra said. "That looked painful for you to say."

"Make no mistake: it was," Erza sighed, picking up a smaller green book from behind the counter. She opened it to a blank page. "Now. Which of you two will be registering as the Team Leader…?"

Notes:

Oh my god they were roommates AND teammates... If you've made it this far, you know that I'm just a giant meme by now. Suffer my memes.

Chapter 17: Moment's Silence

Chapter Text

“A domain shared by a mated pair tends to be bigger than the claim of a singular dragon… such domains may be made up of former territory that belonged to one of the dragons before mating.” ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 14 + 72

Chapter Seventeen: Moment's Silence

The road Gajeel lived on was surprisingly quaint. For a road with almost no one else living on it, that was.

Den Road was on the outskirts of Magnolia, and, like so many other streetways in the town-minded city, started out with cobblestone pavement, lined with stucco-smattered townhouses before petering out into a sparsely populated dirt road. The cobblestone stopped just past a two-story stone-and-brick building with a faded wooden sign that listed it as once being the East Magnolia Primary School - the school had obviously been closed for a while, if the dirt and dust blinding the windows were any indication. With the sun almost completely set, the building stood firm and foreboding in the dark.

"Not a lot of neighbors," Cobra commented, looking out on the fields of tall grass that lined the road. Even in the dusklight, the fields were illuminated by the faint flickers of early-season fireflies and alive with chirping crickets. There was a glowing speck a ways off that looked like a house and it was the only living neighbor that Cobra could pick out in the light of a last crescent moon.

"You complainin'?" Gajeel glanced over his shoulder. "You're not the only one who likes it quiet, y'know. Don't think I could stand it if my house was someplace busy, it'd drive me up the wall."

"Your house?" Cobra wrinkled his nose, recalling something the black-haired man had said on their first job together. "Weren't you just complaining about rent money not too long ago?"

"It's a rent-to-own situation," Gajeel explained with a shrug. "Magnolia is Fairy Tail's turf. No one would outright rent to the guy who destroyed the guild hall. But a rundown old house? They couldn't get rid of it fast enough. 'Sides, got a quarter of it paid off already."

Prior to that comment, Gajeel had seemed somewhat excited at the prospect of sharing a place together. But excitement immediately faded to a bitter note at the circumstances of it, bittersweet.

Something in Cobra didn't like that.

"Rundown," Cobra repeated. "Define 'rundown'."

"I'm good with my hands, been fixin' it up," Gajeel huffed. The iron dragon's thoughts then shifted from circumstances to how he should have planned this better, given himself more time to clean the house up before bringing Cobra into it. How he still had dirty laundry on the floor someplace.

That was a... slightly better train of thought. Sort of.

The house was further along on the dirt portion of the road and, lacking any nearby neighbors, was bordered by untamed open fields on one side and settled in a half-acre clearing, tucked snug up against the shadows of Akane Forest. It was once a small farmhouse, old stonework that was half-cleaned and woodwork now solidly braced by iron beams, and it had definitely seen better days - though it was obvious that there were some serious renovations going on.

Gajeel led him right up to the steps and opened the front door, which was painted a dark, forest green color - not stopping to bother with any locks. Cobra frowned at that - he couldn't understand why someone wouldn't lock their own front door. Doors had locks for a reason.

Whatever Cobra had expected the inside of the house to look like, it wasn't… this.

As Gajeel turned on the lights, it became clear that while the exterior of the house was halfway finished, the interior was nearly done. The front door opened to a small mudspace connected to the kitchen, which had flagstone floors and finished wooden cabinets that were just irregular-looking enough to be handmade. There was a solid-looking table based by what had been a barrel, with a couple of chairs to match.

The interior walls were wooden segments, in places was metal paneling as an obvious patch job. An archway lead to the living area, wood floors centered by a large, round window that looked out on the fields, and dotted by furniture that was obviously made from repurposed crates and other materials, held together by iron bolts. None of the furniture matched yet it all somehow fit together.

A half-bath was hidden away under the stairs, which lead up to one… no, two bedrooms and a full bathroom.

Cobra stood in the arch between the kitchen and living room, gripping the strap of his canvas bag.

Each place he had lived before had high stone walls - always cold and imposing and impersonal, the air ranging from barren cells to regally untouchable. But this was clearly someone's lived-in home.

And it was as if a heaviness in his chest dropped, fell, shattered into fragments of nothingness, and left him with an overwhelming feeling of being okay.

Here was safe.

He was safe.

He entered further, running his fingers over some of the furniture. Touching the table, then the couch, before making his way up the stairs.

One bedroom was still being renovated; from the brief glance Cobra had of it, the floor was still dusty and the holes in the wall still covered by plaster and not paint.

The other bedroom was finished and furnished, painted a similar forest-y green color as the front door. A dresser was pressed against the far wall opposite the bed.

The bed was king-sized and, unsurprisingly, had an obtuse metal frame, built solidly, and covered by several blankets that didn't match in size, design, or color. Most prominently there was a faux-plush blanket that was black and bore the design of a tiger in a square… Very tacky yet very Gajeel. Seriously, what's with him and cats? Cobra thought, amused.

The sheets underneath were a pale, dusty green. Cobra had the suspicion that green may have been Gajeel's favorite color.


The thought of someone else in his space was normally enough to set him on edge. Other people didn't belong on Gajeel's turf - it was just a fact of life, like trees or four sketchy mattress stores being on the same street corner.

But something in him was both thrilled and content to see the redhead poking around, touching various furniture as he passed before glancing up the stairs. Checking things out. Exploring his new territory. Their territory. That thought alone plucked the strings of his more possessive side - yes, Gajeel was very content.

And when Cobra went up the stairs, Gajeel carefully followed. Each time his mate touched something, took a step without a biting remark, felt like a rush of approval. Approval no one else could have, given Cobra's general view of almost everyone ever. And Gajeel wanted more.

"Toss your stuff anywhere fer now," Gajeel told Cobra as he flopped backwards on the bed. "We can go get the bigger stuff tomorrow."

Cobra glanced at him, then very pointedly tossed his canvas tote on top of Gajeel. "This is all I've got."

Gajeel's studded brows furrowed as he pushed the bag off of him, too surprised by the statement to snip about Cobra's bag placement. "Ya gotta be shitting me. Didn't your old guild have a big place? You didn't go back to put some stuff in storage?"

"Nope," Cobra curtly confirmed. "The Council seized the castle after the Nirvana Incident. It's locked up by anti-trespass rune barriers so they can pretend to comb through the place for 'evidence'. Couldn't go back and get stuff even if I wanted to."

Gajeel sat up. He made a half-pitying noise that he caught before letting it out fully. "Damn. At least they let me clear out my old place in Oak Town."

Cobra looked back at him. "Thought you moved when you joined up with Fairy Tail?"

The iron dragon snorted indignantly as he toed off his boots before standing. He left them where they lay on the floor next to the bed. "I was head of Phantom Lord's S-class. After the guild war and the laws got changed, let's just say the Council encouraged me to get real gone."

Cobra's ears perked, a tiny, almost unnoticeable motion that Gajeel barely caught out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, PECOC's a bitch to deal with. Trust me, I know."

At that, Gajeel's expression soured like a toddler that was reminded about the existence of vegetables.

"They can suck my entire left nut," the iron dragon spat at the mere mention of that particular Council branch. "Didn't care until they found out that I wasn't lying about being the son of a dragon." He paused, a thought coming to him. "Didn't think they made New Breeds register, too…?"

"They don't," Cobra told him. It was obvious he was feigning more interest in the bedroom window than was necessary as he approached it, watching the outside world as the light from the sliver of a moon above poured gently through the window. "Not much out here but trees."

"The big window downstairs has a better view. Sometimes storms roll through n' it's nice to watch 'em," Gajeel explained.

It was as difficult to get a straight answer out of Cobra as it was to land an actual hit on him, especially if the poison dragon didn't feel like talking. Gajeel had come to realize that forcing answers out didn't work; the answers would, frustratingly, come on their own.

His focus was then on his mate's moonlit reflection in the glass and his mouth curved upwards. "I wouldn't say that window's got nothin' good to see."

Cobra exhaled sharply and shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "How long were you waiting to say that one?"

"Shouldn't you know," Gajeel lightly taunted back. He took a step closer and, when Cobra didn't flinch away, he closed the space between them by sliding his arms over Cobra's shoulders, pressing himself against the other's back, resting his chin on top of crimson red hair. "I could say something else, if ya want."

The smaller man relaxed into the embrace and Gajeel closed his eyes. They stayed like that for a while, watching the world outside grow darker; sinking into the feeling of each other, feeling the coaxing magic that pulled them together like invisible thread. The silent thrum that eased, assured they fit together perfectly. As if they'd never known anything different.

Gajeel cracked one eye open. "Ya know, I thought you'd have somethin' to say about me signing up as the team leader."

The reflection of narrow, amethyst eyes glanced up at Gajeel in the dark window. "It's nothing I want. Just means if something bad happens it's your head on a plate, not mine."

"I know what I signed up for," Gajeel said with pride. "And I trust ya won't make me look bad."

"Please," Cobra scoffed, "If anything, you look better with me here."

It was as if the words plucked the same strand between them as they both realized what was said at the same time.

"Don't start," Cobra warned.

"No talking, eh?" The iron dragon's expression turned sly. "Ya got another use for my mouth in mind?"

It would always surprise Gajeel - especially right then, when his arms were wrapped around the man in question - how easily Cobra could move in tight spaces. It was even more surprising when Cobra twisted around to face him, pressing a kiss against the side of his mouth.

Gajeel could only blink his surprise, still processing the affection, before his hands wandered downwards and pressed into the dip of Cobra's back as he pulled him flush against his front. "Might have to repeat that."

Cobra rolled his eyes before his hands snaked their way to rest on Gajeel's chest and taking fistfuls of shirt to drag him down for another kiss.

One of Gajeel's hands grabbed the back of Cobra's head, deepening their kiss as a deep, please rumble vibrated in his throat. His focus was no longer on how much his mate approved of his home, his attention was now building somewhere much lower. "Mm, yer wrong, though. S'not just me-" he nipped and kissed as he trailed his mouth down his mate's jaw "- everything looks better with you here."

"I better do something about that, then," Cobra quietly told him, a lilt to his voice that signaled for Gajeel to continue.

Gajeel pressed his nose close to Cobra's neck, wanting to breathe in as much of his mate's scent as he could… picking up the sweet, headiness that drew the iron dragon to the poison dragon to begin with. Gajeel caught whiffs of it every time he planted his mouth on dark skin. He wanted to be closer. He wanted more.

But enough of his brain was still working that he knew a tone wasn't enough - he didn't want to see his lover panic again come morning.

"You're… good?" with great effort he pulled himself away to ask, trying to get the words out through the heat that now fought to overtake his senses. "With doing this?"

"Y-yeah," the redhead replied. His body was stiff for a moment as Gajeel breathed, before he shifted and pressed himself closer. Deliberately grinding himself against the iron dragon in a way that made Gajeel's head fall back, a hitched groan escaping him. "I think… as long as I'm not held down…"

Gajeel's mind briefly flashed back to how much more enthusiastic Cobra had been riding on top, which earned a sharp tug of his hair and a flat, impatient glare from Cobra. Playfully, Gajeel clicked his fangs at him, before kissing him again, craning his neck down to once more let his mouth nibble and migrate as the smaller man's arms wrapped around his neck.

A glint of gold, Cobra's earring, caught his eye, and he moved to take it teasingly between his teeth.

It was a mostly innocent bite. Not meant to do anything more than get close to ears that were oh-so-sensitive, to make his mate shudder under this touch, but the metal of the earring cracked between his dragonish fangs. The gold ring sparked as it broke in his mouth.

Gajeel yelped at the sudden shock on his tongue and jumped back, covering his mouth with his hand. He spit the broken jewelry out into his gloved palm. "Th' fuc'h wa' tha'?!"

Cobra doubled over, grasping at his ear with both hands. "Did- did you just try to eat my earring!?"

"No'h on pulpith!" Gajeel swallowed the bitter taste of magic on his tongue. Which shouldn't have been there. Not unless Cobra was wearing magic earrings or something. The pain soon faded, he could feel his tongue again, but the taste remained. Red eyes flicked to the broken bits of gold in his hand, then to Cobra's face. "You okay?"

Cobra held his ear for a moment longer, eventually dropping one of his hands, but his expression was still pained. "Yeah. That was just… loud."

"Fuck. Didn't meant ta shout right next to your ear," Gajeel murmured, a stupid heat rising to his face. "Forgot gold's a soft metal. Tasty, but…" He scratched at the back of his head. "Damn thing shocked me."

"Enchantment," Cobra snipped by way of explanation. His expression had softened to a sore glower as he rubbed his ear. "There's… a form-change enchantment on my earrings. Or, there was."

"Form-change?" One pierced brow rose high on Gajeel's forehead. "The fuck do you need-"

Gajeel's protesting inquiry was cut short when Cobra removed his hand, revealing just what the enchantment was meant to hide: with the earring gone, his ear had changed into a pointier shape. With shaking fingers, Cobra reached up and removed his remaining earring, revealing both his ears to be very, very pointy.

It took Gajeel longer than he would have cared to admit to realize what ears that pointy meant.

One of his ears was cocked up, while the other fell sideways; it matched the sarcastically flat expression on Cobra's paling face. His mate clearly did not appreciate revealing it, and that made his chest ache.


"Huh," Gajeel breathed. Still trying to piece it together, he folded his arms loosely over his chest. Cobra could hear him work through what he knew: Demons usually had a more tell-tale brimstone scent or were vibrant colors, Cobra was too fleshy to be something like a high-model Machias, and only a handful of races could actually use Dragonslayer magic. "So. You're... an Elf?"

Cobra only nodded in confirmation.

"Gotta say, wasn't sure what I was expecting. But ya look... uh-"

Cobra's ears pinned back slightly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Just get it out of your system."

"Well shit," Gajeel swore. "You know my opinion. You can hear it, right?" With a grin, he reached out to pull Cobra close again. "It's not changing. And if anybody else's does... They're not gonna be able to think enough to make shitty opinions after we're done with 'em."

Cobra rested his arms on top of where Gajeel's held him firm. He didn't know exactly what Gajeel's words meant, and he didn't want to ask.

The meaning, what he heard behind those words was enough.

Chapter 18: A Good Different Experience

Notes:

There's dicks in this chapter. And I don't just mean their personalities this time. Lemons with vitamins C & A. If you're not into that (understandable) skip this chapter.

Also: "scute" here refers to snake-like scutes, not croc or turtle scutes. Smooth scales.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"As there is no set season, the frequency of a mated pair coupling is determined when the mating criteria has been met… However, when a newly bonded pair begins sharing territory, mating can be an effective way of marking their new den as a shared one." ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 26 + 71

Chapter Eighteen: A Good Different Experience

Cobra felt an almost feverish heat building under his skin as his scales fought to make themselves known. When his scales were rebellious and prickly, so hot under his skin, especially when Gajeel was nearby, they gave off a particular scent that seemed to drive the iron dragon crazy on an instinctual level.

And the thought of being on the receiving end of those instincts again, of being held by toned, strong arms and rough hands on his skin, magic ebbing through them both… Arousal flooded him just imagining it.

Slit-pupils grew wide in pools of red as gloved hands gripped at the white sleeves of Cobra's coat, smelling the musk that was coming off of him.

"Gajeel," Cobra uttered the other Dragonslayer's name.

At that signal, the dark-haired man was again on the redhead, pushing him with a needy intensity against the wall. Metal scales littered his skin as he worked Cobra's coat off, where it fell to the floor at their feet. Kissing him with a fervor, as if he could express everything ever unsaid by pressing his mouth to his mate's.

Again kisses and bites trailed until Gajeel's mouth found a particular, familiar spot on the nape of Cobra's neck. He nipped at it until fangs and hot tongue settled into place, hitting a nerve and sending lightning down Cobra's spine - arching his body against Gajeel's. Maroon-streaked violet scales and milk-white scutes came forth, spreading the length of his body once more.

A light frustration pulled at his mind that another shirt would fall victim to his own scales, aided by iron claws making quick work of the remaining threads. Cobra, in turn, began working on Gajeel's belt, and, not quite succeeding at trying to remove the metal-studded garment, decided that claws were no good for such a task. He hooked a finger underneath and it dissolved in his acidic grasp before the remaining bits clattered to the floor to join Cobra's coat.

Gajeel pulled away to blink down at himself. "Is that how we're playing?"

Using a finger, Cobra trailed a claw up the taller man's chest from his navel, the black tunic falling open to expose the iron-scaled muscle underneath. "Not playing if I'm getting even."

Those words strained Gajeel's patience. A heat swimming through his veins, through his head, it was growing thinner as he grew more attentive to his mate's half-bare form. He pulled away abruptly to finish undressing: his pants and boxers, what was left of his shirt, all followed his belt and boots onto the floor.

Narrow eyes flicked to watch him. Cobra bit his lip as he watched the way the taller man's firm cock bobbed as he stripped.

The playful eagerness from before was suddenly gone, replaced by something more urgent, more lustful as Gajeel lifted him into his arms in an uncoordinated motion that banged Cobra's foot into the wall.

Gajeel paused only a moment, glancing to Cobra for confirmation that he was okay. An unspoken agreement passed between them to ignore the minor mishap. So their falling into bed again wouldn't be neatly done. So what? Nothing about their being together was. They weren't going to start now, not with something that wasn't supposed to be neat to begin with.

The iron dragon didn't set the poison dragon down so much as fall with him onto the bed; and he didn't pin Cobra down as much as he lay on top of him, tugging lightly at the hem of unwanted red pants. A pleased, inhuman chuff sounded from his chest as Cobra wiggled under him to remove them, shifting further on the dissolving blankets as he spread his legs enough for Gajeel to settle between them.

Flesh pressed against flesh, scales on scales. There was no pinching or tickling but Gajeel's hands wandered plenty, exploring every inch of exposed skin, just as his tongue explored Cobra's lips and mouth and fangs. Making needy, wanting sounds that were more dragon than man as he felt clawed hands on the back of his neck pull him closer - wordless, primal praises uttered for his mate's sharp ears alone.

Just like before, so caught in it all, the iron dragon was finding it harder to pull himself away. Gajeel bucked against Cobra, the need to mount mounting more and more. But something nagged at the back of the still-functioning part of his mind: he couldn't just mount... Didn't they need something else before that?

"Fuck," Cobra swore as he broke their kiss and Gajeel's heart skipped a beat. His head fell back against the melting blankets. "Of course there's no lube."

It took a minute longer for the words to pierce the hot fog of Gajeel's headspace. Red eyes shot to the dresser across from the bed.

"Drawer," he said, his voice shot and gravelly as he switched back to using his mouth for more human sounds. A violet hand pressed against his metal chest and, shakily, he rolled off of Cobra.

Besides, Gajeel certainly didn't mind watching the redhead walk across the room. No, not at all. Gajeel marveled at how maroon dusted over violet on Cobra's shoulders and joints and hips and the tips of his ears, how those paler scales tucked into his inner thighs and underarms, how there were little yellow spots along Cobra's spine - ending right above the swell of his perfect ass...

"Is this the same one from the hotel?" Cobra's brows furrowed as he looked at the shriveled tube held carefully between his claws, keeping it away from his finger scales.

Gajeel could only give a half-hearted shrug. "Does it matter?"

Cobra's pointy ears perked and he fixed him with a look that could be read as a flat, sarcastic what do you think? Just then Gajeel had the strangest desire to bite the tips of those ears. "It's a little weird that you went back to get this," he said, waving it at Gajeel as he walked back to the bed. "Sit against the headboard."

"I wanna do it."

"I don't want half a tube of ice-cold lube shot up my ass this time," Cobra snipped. "You're going to sit and watch."

Gajeel's eyes widened at the command, his instinct-hazy mind balking at being told what to do yet, strangely, also finding it very, very hot. He crawled to sit where he was told, thinking loudly that it was unfair and you're lucky I like ya, bastard.

Cobra sat on his knees on the bed, facing the sulking dragonslayer. He squeezed a reasonable amount out into his hand and worked it between his fingertips to warm it, before leaning back to work himself open with slick fingers.

At the sight of those fingers disappearing, of his mate's form moving in the dim light and his cock plumping as he pleased and stretched himself, Gajeel swallowed hard - iron claws almost shredding the mattress he was gripping. If he was hard as iron before, he was hard as diamonds now. It seemed as if Cobra was fingering himself forever before he finished prepping and crawled closer, using the remaining warm slick on his fingers to coat Gajeel's member in a tight, teasing grip that drew out the air from his lungs with each stroke.

When Cobra swung a leg over Gajeel's hips, the iron dragon came-to a little more and moved his hands to grip Cobra's thighs. He sure as hell wasn't going to miss seeing his mate sit on his cock.

With care, he guided the wet tip of Gajeel's rod to his hole and sank down on it, pressing his scutey palms against Gajeel's knees for support. A quiet, hitched hiss escaped him as he did so, taking his time as he got used to the stretch.

Gajeel stifled a groan as the feeling of hot, tight silk surrounded his cock, his fingers sliding to cup Cobra's ass, suddenly more conscious of the noise he himself was making - as if being too loud would disturb Cobra and make him stop.

"G-give me a sec," Cobra finally breathed. He righted his hips, shifting so that his knees were under him, and sunk down further, his own cock perking once the man under him was fully seated inside.

Gajeel hummed in blissful adoration. "Mm, feel good?"

Even with a dick in his ass, the haughty redhead had the nerve to look him right in the eye and utter: "You know… I can't tell if it's in yet."

A growl tore from Gajeel's throat. He gripped Cobra's hips and pulled him down, rolling in small motions as he ground himself inside his mate - making sure the cocky dragonslayer felt every ridge and bump, felt just who was inside him. His growl melted to a heady chuckle as Cobra's claws dug into the iron of Gajeel's knees, a whining growl escaping him as he grew desperate for wanted friction.

"Can ya feel that, Slitherfuck?" Gajeel displayed his fangs in the most shit-eating grin. "Thought you wanted it in...?"

"I'm going to make you feel something, you- ah!" Cobra's voice caught in his throat as Gajeel continued his tiny, teasing thrusts. "Metal jackass!"

He'd always thought Cobra was on the thin side, but, now so close once again, Gajeel thought maybe thin was the wrong word. The poison dragon was lithe, sure, but also more… compact. Muscles that were better suited for movement rather than strength. And - as he started moving his hips - holy fuck could he move.

As he rose on his knees and sank back down, over and over, Gajeel was more than a little stunned at the way his cock was practically sucked back in each time. Hot pleasure clouded the iron dragon's mind as he started rocking up into the motions, not wanting to miss a second of being deep inside his mate.

Hooded amethyst eyes narrowed down at Gajeel as the redhead continued undulating sinfully like he was the sole star of the show - and, lost in the throes of their lovemaking, Gajeel couldn't disagree.

The tempo of Gajeel's thrusts increased, he pulled Cobra back down onto him as he thrust harder, and he watched Cobra sneak a hand down to touch himself.

"Fuck," Gajeel panted his approval at the sight. He pressed his mouth against the smooth milky scutes of Cobra's chest in a messy kiss. "Cobra, I'm- I wanna-"

"Not yet," Cobra breathed, begging him to hold out a little longer. "Not yet, together."

Those seemed to have been the magic words, because Cobra's eyes widened as he felt Gajeel's cock grow inside of him, not lengthening but swelling. His own cock twitched in his hand as new bumps rubbed his inner walls, repeatedly running over his prostate, thick lips parting as he moaned while being fucked into.

Gajeel let out a choked noise that could have been his name, holding Cobra's hips in a bruising grip. "Need to-!"

A breathy pant and a hasty nod was all Cobra could manage, red bangs sticking to his face with sweat.

Without any further conscious thought the iron dragon managed one last powerful thrust as he shoved himself as deep as he could into the poison dragon, pushing the thickest part of his cock inside of him, and came harder than he ever had in his life. Cobra keened as he came over his own knuckles, convulsing hard around his boyfriend's shape inside of him, and making a mess between them as his cum painted iron scales white.

Strong arms hooked around the smaller man's middle and gathered him closer, pressing a studded nose to his sternum and breathing in their combined scents, murring approval of their deed.

"Fuck," Cobra finally breathed as he came down. Gajeel only hummed in agreement, closing his eyes in bliss as Cobra carded his fingers through his hair.

They stayed like that for a while, until their scales began to recede and Cobra squirmed at the feeling of being so full for so long. He rose on shaking legs so that Gajeel could pull out. A rush of the iron dragon's deposited spending dribbled down his inner thighs, but he collapsed into the pillows beside him, a nearly-boneless mess as Gajeel slid down to join him.

Cobra buried his face into the pillows. "Next time your ass is mine."

"Next time...?" Gajeel's body buzzed with the promise of it all happening again.

… At least until his mind processed what exactly Cobra meant.

Notes:

No spellcheck we die like (horny) bastards.

Chapter 19: A House That Might be a Home

Notes:

'Sup, all? It's been a while. Things have been getting hectic irl-wise between certain world events and my day job, so I was unable to write for a while.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"In the past, the prevailing view on dragons noted their solitary habits... This is simply not true. These reports were based on lone sightings and observations of singular dragons without context or explanation for behaviors." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 7

Chapter Nineteen: A House That Might be a Home

Gajeel woke slowly to a warm bed and the blissful feeling of heavy limbs, his right arm felt the heaviest of all. A cool spot on his bare hip came to his attention before he stirred further, slowly realizing that someone was resting on his arm. The light chill came from sizable holes melted through his normal nest of blankets.

The combined, thick scent of musk and sex in the air; red leather pants and the remains of clothing on the floor; the ruined bedding; the sticky feeling of sweat and other dried fluids that stuck to Gajeel's skin - it was all the remaining evidence of their official first night living together. Well… all of that and the ass-naked Elf making his arm feel vaguely numb.

Cobra was still asleep, turned on his side away from Gajeel, half tangled in mismatched, ruined blankets. It was almost noon and the angle of the light coming through the window made their bedroom dim, but dragons could see decently in the dark, and Gajeel could make out the purpling marks his mouth and fangs had made on warm, chestnut skin.

Mine.

Likewise, the iron dragon could feel the wonderful stinging from claw marks on his shoulders and back, his knees scratched and red. His neck tingled sorely with a clumsy mark from the poison dragon.

His.

Lost in the haze of it all, he practically purred with appreciation for their combined work.

And it was a sudden, sharp thought that cut through the pleasant afterglow: the realization that not every mark on his lover was from him.

Gajeel had his own sets of scars - a few along his arms from himself being young and stupid, and many from others being just plain stupid - but the scars on Cobra were different. They were almost exclusively contained to his back and shoulders.

There was the big, sprawling one on his right shoulder, still a tender muted red. Cobra had been injured when Gajeel had first met him, and looking at the remnant of the injury it was clear that he had been shot with some sort of darker magic - though it was on the wrong side, the center of the wound was at level with his heart. Meant to be a kill shot. Thankfully, whoever had managed to actually hit Cobra seemed to have forgotten how to tell left from right. That the man in his arms had survived without losing the limb was definitely a testament to how tough the guy was, Gajeel noted with a bitter pride.

The rest of the scars were fainter, all in a smattering of lines that littered the rest of his back. Gajeel could have sworn they looked like lash marks - how the hell had Gajeel missed seeing them before?

Then again… Violet and maroon, yellow-freckled back scales in the dark had likely hidden the array of scars on his mate's back. Not that Gajeel had seen Cobra shirtless enough times to say for sure that it was scales and darkness that hid the scars… That, and his attention hadn't exactly been on the upper half of his mate's backside any of the times he'd seen him naked.

Cobra's ear perked and the slight movement caught the iron dragon's attention.

Gajeel blinked. "How long have you been awake?"

"Woke up to you thinking about my ass," Cobra yawned, half-rolling over to toss him a sleepy glare through messy, crimson bangs.

Red eyes flicked to the point of his mate's ear, he lifted a finger and playfully prodded at the tip, which reflexively twitched away from his touch. "So. You didn't sleep all last night, then?" Gajeel pressed his fangs into his tongue, grinning.

"Fuck off this early," the redhead hissed, feigning a tired misery that only further spread the sloppy grin across the raven-haired man's face.

Cobra rolled back over, stealing most of the remnant blankets in the process, but Gajeel swore he saw a smile and so the loss of blankets was deemed worth it. He never wanted to let go of the warm glow, the little flicker of light that he felt inside right then.

After all, when was the last time he had made anyone happy? So many people looked at Gajeel and saw a shitshow-

"You're not a 'shitshow'," Cobra's abrupt words pulled his attention out of his own head. "An idiot, maybe..."

"Tch," Gajeel exhaled sharply out of his nose, "Only 'maybe'?"

The smaller man slowly - gingerly - sat up, returning blood flow to Gajeel's tingling arm, and stretched his own arms above his head. The motion was stiff and he was obviously sore in his lower half.

"You completely forgot that I can hear thoughts not even five seconds a-" Cobra froze, his words again stuck in his mouth, as if he had only just then realized how bare he was.

Posture now rigid, he pulled the remains of what had been a red blanket hard over his shoulders, trying to hide his form below the neck.

Immediately noting the other's change in demeanor, Gajeel sat up at attention. Something hard strangled the magic between them, like there were two ends of a string and Cobra was pulling it impossibly, painfully taut.

"H-hey, it's… it's okay." Gajeel tried to swallow the hard, tacky lump that he suddenly felt in his throat.

"I know," he snipped, then flinched at his own tone - obviously not meaning to be that harsh from the way his ears pinned back pathetically. But he was doubled over, pulling the melted blanket as close as he could - like loosening the fabric and exposing himself again would kill him. His chest rose and fell as he controlled his breathing, as if trying not to make a sound.

Something about the morning after situation was distressing to the other - Gajeel didn't want to think about what specifically. He wanted to punch, tear someone apart for ever making Cobra feel like this.

No. Gajeel wasn't going to let it be like last time, with Cobra left alone to deal with his panic.

He dug his nails into his palms, trying to keep his claws from coming out. Cobra needed him. "... What would help?"

Cobra stared unfocused at the floor for what felt like forever. Eventually his head turned ever-so-slightly towards Gajeel, his eyes, dark and wild, flicking to look at him before clarity returned to his gaze - eyes darting away again. Almost hesitantly, he said: "Getting clean."


Sloshing water echoed in the stone-tiled bathroom.

Cobra sank down into hot water until only his eyes remained above. He pressed his head back against the solid wall of the copper bathtub. He closed his eyes and let the relaxing heat of the water sink into his body, into his bones.

He hadn't meant to freeze like that. He was so damn sure last night that he wouldn't, not if he took charge...

But he still did.

Granted, after waking up he managed to go a whole ten minutes before freaking out this time. That was better than the last time, wasn't it? He was more in control, too - he'd caught himself before he lashed out this time.

And Gajeel had helped him. Even if it was just trying to keep him talking while running a bath. It wasn't bad, he eventually concluded. It was better than being left where he was and listening to the whispers and echoes that said why can't you stop acting like this.

Once again, he felt as if something heavy inside him crumbled away - it left a strange, fuzzy solace in its place. He was alive. He was okay. He was really, actually safe. He… wasn't alone.

Though Living Link Magic was nothing new to Cobra, the dragon-magic that formed their new bond was familiar yet still very foreign to him.

It's two-way, he reminded himself.

He felt for the pull he felt inside. The strain on his end of their bond lessened. If he felt for the magic hard enough, he could feel Gajeel's end give a tentative tug, an unsure and wordless question that he heard echoed in the iron dragon's inner voice. At best, it still being unfamiliar, Cobra could tug back; this seemed to be enough of an answer that their bond settled from both their ends, though the buzzing whispers of restless thoughts still came from the man downstairs.

Cobra picked his head up out of the water, followed by the rest of him, and swiped a worn cotton towel from where it rested on the sink

The towel he dried himself with was clean and the bathroom itself wasn't grungy, but there was a pile of post-workout laundry that had been sitting on the floor in the corner for way too long. Probably from before the whole Edolas ordeal.

Rank gym laundry was definitely not a pleasant smell while he was cleaning himself out. With so much time passed since they had fucked, the task wasn't as easy as Cobra would have liked. Outside of the smell, he'd distanced himself from the task of cleaning as best he could before getting in the bath. Of course, if they'd used a condom, it wouldn't have been something that needed to be done at all.

But… Gajeel wasn't very experienced - hell, he hadn't known about lube. What were the chances that he knew how to use a condom?

Very low, Cobra thought with a sigh as he finished drying off.

Of course, now that Cobra thought about it, getting to the point that they actually used a condom may have been another task entirely.

A condom might not survive their bedding. Their dragon magic urged them, started their… sessions… both times.

Could they do it without the scales and claws, without destroying clothing and furniture?

Without the nudge of their magic, could Cobra?

He wanted to try, sure. He knew that now. More than he did before. He didn't want to let himself get in the way - or let the feelings of old chains and past pressures dictate his relationship now.

Now Cobra had someone he actually wanted to let touch him for more than five minutes... Scratches from iron claws gripping his hips, a sore ass, and hungry bite marks on his neck and shoulders were plenty proof of that.

If the magic helped, then, Cobra reasoned, it was probably best to let it help. At least for the time being. Maybe with time he would be better prepared. No. Maybe with time, they would be better prepared.


"Shower's free."

A fork clattered to the floor as Gajeel almost jumped through the roof - just narrowly avoiding knocking a hot pan full of bread and eggs off the stove in the process. He turned to see Cobra in the doorway of the kitchen, clearly amused at the near heart attack he'd almost given Gajeel.

Gajeel flexed his fingers, settling for wiping his hands off on the gray sweatpants he'd thrown on to cook breakfast in. He scratched under the low ponytail he'd tied his long hair back in and leveled a sore glower at the silent-stepping bastard sitting down at the table. "The fuck're you sneakin' around like that for?"

Cobra smirked, cocky yet subtle, and Gajeel relaxed seeing the usual expression on his mate's face once again - anything was better than the blank-faced panic from earlier that morning. "I wasn't sneaking."

"You practically teleported into the kitchen!" Gajeel waved a hand to the archway.

"You're used to living alone."

"I was busy making us something to eat," Gajeel huffed, turning back to the stove, doing his best to ignore the living alone comment. "'Scuse me for bein' a gentleman and makin' breakfast."

In Gajeel's experience food always fixed things. After an active night and an alarming morning, Gajeel was hungry - there was no way that Cobra wouldn't also be, he reasoned.

The guy's stick-thin, was Gajeel's other reasoning. He didn't eat the entire time we were in the cabin or on the way back… There was a growing part of the iron dragon that was concerned; a part that wouldn't settle until he had seen his mate eat something. Food would fix that, too, with more time.

"I've gone longer," Cobra mumbled dismissively, as if not eating for a few days was a normal thing for him.

Gajeel flipped the eggy bread over in the pan, the sizzle of the food filling the quiet that had settled into the room. "Do ya want the eggs-in-a-basket or not?"

There was a small pause before Cobra agreed to the food. "Hot sauce?"

"Fridge door, bottom shelf," he told him, giving a stiff sniff and rough scratch behind his ear.

Gajeel's attention remained on the food, though from the soft clinking he could hear behind him, Cobra had found the hot sauce and placed it on the table. "Look," Cobra started, "About this morning…"

"Y'got treated bad, I get it."

And it was true, Gajeel did get it to a point. It wasn't Cobra's fault, or his own fault. But it still wasn't something that could be immediately fixed with punching, or sharp claws tearing flesh, or rending muscle from bone; it wasn't something he could keep his mate safe from. It was basically a ghost, Gajeel knew that. It didn't mean that it didn't leave him restless.

"I'm trying to say that having you there this morning was-" for a moment, it sounded like Cobra's words were stuck again, before he let out a buried sigh "- was good. It helped." And suddenly Cobra was right next to him, leaning into his view. The weight of his presence quietly urged Gajeel to look him in the eye; and Gajeel did, he let himself be taken in by the striking amethyst that saw inside him, searching in Cobra's knowing way. "It helped a lot more than you're thinking right now."

A nod was all Gajeel could muster in response. I actually helped…?

Cobra then looked down to the sizzling iron pan on the stove. "... That sounds burnt."

"Shit!"


In the days that followed, Gajeel learned two things.

One, that Cobra preferred chili oil to hot sauce on just about everything - whether chili oil belonged on the foodstuff originally or not.

"Noodles and rice I can get behind, but why would you put chili oil on eggs?"

"It tastes good," Cobra cocked a brow. "Tastes good on pizza, too."

"Pizza is for chili flakes."

"And chili oil."

"That just makes it greasy bread! Next you'll tell me that you like pineapple on yer pizza."

"It's not bad..."

Gajeel wrinkled his studded nose and stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Yer element's definitely poison."

"Ten minutes ago you said that you like to put chocolate bars in peanut butter sandwiches."

"Yeah, 'cause it's fuckin' good! Even better with chocolate milk."

Cobra's ears slid back in mild disbelief. "That's asking for diabetes, Gajeel."

Second, and most importantly, Cobra's cheeks puffed when he thought something was really funny. Something like continually scaring the shit out of Gajeel in his own home.

As they got used to sharing a living space it became a sort of game between the two of them if one had left a room without the other. There were times where Gajeel could smell Cobra around a corner, only to jump out at thin air and for Cobra to spook him from behind.

At this game of surprise, Cobra was like some sort of ninja that Gajeel couldn't catch. A ninja that slept next to Gajeel each night and got drool on the pillows. A ninja with a nice ass and puffy cheeks when he smiled too hard.

"You plant your feet before you lunge," Cobra told him, cocksure, the glee at scaring Gajeel not yet gone from his violet eyes. "It slows you down."

Gajeel clicked his fangs, playfully nipping at him in answer.

Normally, Gajeel hated losing. But, for some reason, he found that against this one opponent he didn't mind coming up short.

Notes:

I had to squeeze one more chapter of them together before getting back to plot. Also, I am guilty of every food crime mentioned in this chapter - from the chili oil on eggs to the peanutbutter cup sandwich. Except for the pizza crime. I cannot have pizza. :(

Saw a twitter scanslation thread about Gajeel in one of the recent omakes (?), there was mention that he likes to make eggs-in-a-basket and french toast for breakfast, and he's also fond of things with chocolate in them. Hence the breakfast and the food crimes. :D Whoops, this was from a doujin scanslation thread, but it's still really fun to think about. ^.^'

Chapter 20: That Which Should Be Destroyed

Notes:

The image below is a quick doodle I did to show what Cobra looks like as of this chapter. :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"It is ill-advised for all but the truly prepared to face off against a dragon… especially avoid confrontations with flights with newly-hatched whelps or a newly-mated pair looking to establish territory." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 14 + 99

Chapter Twenty: That Which Should Be Destroyed

Ruby red eyes watched as Cobra pulled the silver-trimmed white hood of his coat over his head. Cobra carefully adjusted his ears so that they were comfortably hidden away for the duration of their time in town, until they were able to return to someplace with fewer people.

It didn't take the ability to hear thoughts and inner voices to be able to tell that the taller man with the long raven hair had something he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry. About the earrings."

"It is what it is," the poison dragon said with a light sigh.

"I mean it." Gajeel took Cobra's hand and squeezed. "You know I don't say something unless I mean it. I'll get ya new ones, enchanted n' everything."

"That may be more of a challenge than you're thinking." He squeezed Gajeel's gloved hand in return, a thanks hanging in the bond between them, tilting his chin up to look the taller man right in the eye. "Last chance before we go out..."

In the three weeks since their debut as an official team, the two normally reclusive Dragonslayers had unfortunately been noticed by The Weekly Sorcerer despite their best efforts. Pictures of them were rare - they took jobs from the guild on an inconsistent schedule, and light glinting off shining metal scales and foggy, toxic miasma obscured most shots. But word spread faster than any picture in a tabloid...

Black Steel Gajeel, Kurogane, the former head of the infamous Phantom Lord's S-class and destroyer of half of Magnolia; and White Snake Cobra, the former Demon General who had been dubbed the Sole Survivor of the Baalam dark guild Oracion Seis... Fearsome reputations, coupled with troublesome rumors of their early work: the partial destruction of a small town and the death of a nobleman, followed by being some of the named saviors of one of Fiore's most prominent cities from an extradimensional threat. There wasn't anything about their combination that didn't strike fear into the sheep-minded and yellow-bellied.

And magazines like The Weekly Sorcerer were eating the conflicting rumors up.

If word got out that FAIRY TAIL'S MOST CONTROVERSIAL TEAM was actually a couple? Cobra shuddered at the thought of that clusterfuck. He was already putting the idiot who had become way too important to him in a lot of danger just by being on a team with the man.

True to his word, Gajeel had kept most of the couple-y shit to private quarters. Most of it, anyways. There were little touches, purring murmurs, and aimed tawdry thoughts trying to grab Cobra's attention.

A soft, low-octave gihi escaped the iron dragon, pleased at the opportunity to press a final kiss to the lips of his mate. Then another, this time planted on Cobra's cheek as he turned to face away from the coming onslaught.

Pink dusted his cheeks as he swatted his boyfriend away. "Stop it, or we're never going to get to the train station."

At that, Gajeel's mouth drew into a long, sour pout, his thoughts followed like the muttering of a scolded child that was told no dessert until after dinner.

"You're the one who picked some monster hunting job all the way out in Tuly," Cobra told him flatly, rolling his eyes as he opened the front door. "That means taking the early train."

Gajeel's expression was briefly delighted, then determined. "Damn right I picked it!"


Tuly was a small, quiet farming village. One inn, one store, lots of corn, and an abandoned mill left over from a ring of thieves that had been run out of the area not eight months before. The villagers had barely begun to return to normal life when a plum wyvern had decided to make its nest in the former thieves' den.

Unlike green wyverns or blizzard wyverns, which both species tended to be the size of a small house, plum wyverns were only horse-sized. Where they lacked the muscle and bulk of their cousins, they made up for with tougher scales. They hid, then hit hard and fast.

Gajeel had picked that job expecting a good fight. A challenge. A hunt. Instead…

"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up," the iron dragon flashed his fangs as he grumbled from his seat on the train ride back to Magnolia. His leg bounced in mild annoyance and he leaned his weight against the bag on the seat next to him. "S'not that funny."

Cobra sat across from him, leaning his elbow against the window sill, barely covering a shit-eating grin as he rested his chin in his hand.

"You're right, it's not funny," Cobra's voice was smooth, still very amused. "Somebody found you very attractive today." He pressed his hand over his mouth as he barely contained another snicker. "Apparently, I have competition and it's very stiff."

Finding and defeating the plum wyvern had been a lot easier than expected. As it turned out, that particular wyvern had a love for shiny things, like metal scales, so the beast had found them more than they had hunted it. And a mere wyvern was no match for a pair of dragons, after all.

Normally, Gajeel wasn't one to complain too loudly about jobs getting done quickly... but there just wasn't anything dignified about slaying a beast that had tried to drag Gajeel into its nest and mount him. It wasn't a graceful kill; but he'd hunted enough to know that while not every kill could be clean, every kill could be useful. The dumb plum wyvern's hide would sell well to someone who knew how to make armor out of it - which was the only reason he was taking it back with him.

And, normally, Gajeel would have given anything to see his mate's stupid puffy-faced laugh - but now Cobra was just mocking him!

"At least someone tried to woo me." Gajeel crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his nose up in the air. The red that splotched across his cheekbones was only contrasted by his nose studs. "Yer only interested in one thing from me."

Cobra rolled his eyes.

"What'll the papers think? We live together and we ain't even marri- mrrF!" Cobra kicked Gajeel right in the mouth. The iron dragon would normally retaliate, but if that tiny almost-mortified blush meant anything it was that he had his mate's attention and he wasn't going to lose it. He shielded his face with his forearms, gray iron scales emerging through his skin, his grin still in full force. "What will they say 'bout me at the cat-tilly-in?"

"You don't even know what a cotillion is, idiot."

"S'a fancy party where people show off their cats," Gajeel explained with convinced plainness, putting his arms down again.

The poison dragon's eyes narrowed as he listened for the details of where the iron dragon had heard the word. "No. You got drunk and watched the national cat show finals."

"Well if you know so much, then what's a cotillion?"

"It's a party where rich snobs show off their kids. Who has the best manners, who has the best dress, stupid shit that gets them bragging rights. They might try to set up marriages if they think someone else's kid made a good impression."

"Didn't think yer old guild was that pampered… or into manners."

Cobra settled back in his seat. "Had to crash a few."

"Ya ever go to any normal parties?"

"Did you?"

"Had t'crash a few," Gajeel responded. "Was never invited. People don't like invitin' me for some reason."

"Can't imagine why." He sighed, hearing the next question Gajeel wanted to ask. "I was invited to a few, but I never went." Brown fingers picked at the armrest of his seat, his eyes trained on where his nails dug into the plush upholstery. "Too loud, too many people for me to find it fun. The biggest things I went to were the occasional reptile expo and Alliance meetings."

The full name of the Baalam Alliance would have drawn attention from the few other people in the train car, but Gajeel still understood that's what Cobra meant. "Yeah? What's the fanciest grub they serve at those, souls on crackers?"

Cobra tilted his head to the side, red bangs flopping to the side. "No souls, not usually," he said. "Think the most exotic things I had to eat were wagyu, deepfish caviar with peanut essence, otoro, and tri-cubed baby seal sausage."

Gajeel blinked, not at all expecting any of those things. Caviar and sushi were familiar enough, and he would have killed to sink his teeth into a real wagyu steak, but sausage made from a seal? "What, baby seal, fer real?"

Cobra's mouth pressed into a thin smirk, a mischievous glint in his narrow eyes.

His mate was clearly teasing him, so Gajeel hunched his shoulders. "Fine, don't tell me. S'not like we can afford any of that fru-fru, pampered, prissy stuff anyways."

"No comment on the soul thing?"

"Easier to get than the rest of it." Gajeel shrugged indifferently. "But you'd probably just drown it in chili oil anyway, ya greasy snake."

While not a lot of others could appreciate darker humor, it was just one more thing they both shared. Plus, bickering with his mate was always fun and the ease between them was one of the things Gajeel found himself really liking about Cobra.

"Quit staring," Cobra muttered, looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. He tugged the hood of his coat closer to his face before settling back into his seat.

"Not illegal to stare," Gajeel quipped with pride. Cobra's use of the hood to try to hide the light blush on his face didn't go unnoticed, and his thoughts cycled back to their conversation the day before. "So, why would getting new earrings be a challenge?"

Cobra continued to watch out the train car window, watching as the train rushed by an open field of tall grass. He tapped one of his fingers on the armrest. Gajeel felt their bond tighten, then loosen, as Cobra's anger briefly flared.

"The runework is custom. The creator," that specific word was hard and edged and full of so much venom that it left no room to doubt who Cobra was speaking of, "Of that enchantment is rotting in jail. So. Maybe it's for the best his work was destroyed."

Gajeel gave a short nod. It was no secret that Cobra held no fondness for his former Guildmaster; Gajeel couldn't imagine what it would be like relying on enchantments made by someone he despised. "Anything else this 'creator' made that needs destroying?"

"The pants," Cobra sheepishly answered after another long pause. He waved his hands out in front of him dismissively. "But until we can find someone that can copy that kind of advanced runework, I'm more comfortable keeping them."

Gajeel's studded brows pulled low on his face. "Why?"

"In case you forgot, my element destroys my clothes when I use it, including clothes with basic enchantments," Cobra explained. Gajeel bit his lip in a sly grin, a single fang impishly peeking out, at which Cobra arched a single eyebrow. "I don't want to be naked in front of other people."

The grin fell right off Gajeel's face at that, settling into a stiff scowl. Seeing his mate naked? Always good. No, not just good - amazing. Gajeel would never grow tired of that wonderful sight. Other people seeing his mate naked? Never, every part of Gajeel asserted. Not ever. Not in a million years. Gajeel would strangle them with his bare hands!

"Like I said before," Cobra turned back to the window. "It is what it is. I might not like it, but I can get used to more people knowing what I am. Slowly, anyways. Doesn't mean I want them to see me naked."

Gajeel had opened his mouth to speak when Cobra sat deadbolt straight, eyes wide, suddenly at attention. "Grab something!" he warned.

The emergency brakes on the train engaged and the air was filled with a deafening screech. Gajeel was almost thrown from his seat. The train slid for several more seconds before it came to a complete stop, unlike the sack of wyvern hide that softly thumped to the floor.

The crack of train car doors being forced open, the clanging of metal, and shouting could be heard somewhere off in one of the cars closer to the engine.

The poison dragon was still wincing when Gajeel looked at him, his palms pressed to his ears under his hood to soothe away his discomfort from the screeching brakes. They locked eyes for a moment, and in that glance was a silent, shared message: a brief concern, then confirmation that the other knew what was going on.

The train was being robbed.


With other passengers on the train in mind, the pair had decided to split up for the new hunt: Gajeel could take out the bandits inside the train and Cobra could pick off those outside without worrying about any accidental envenomations.

As far as dark mages went, the losers whose faces kept running into his iron pole-fists were pretty standard for the low-level flunkies. Not a challenge. Which, as he cleared another car and tossed another body out a window, frustrated Gajeel to no end.

Was he that good? Obviously. But he was really starting to feel blue balled with the lack of challenge lately. His dragon blood wanted to fight, to tear with fangs and claws, not just plow through basic enemies!

Before he knew it, the thugs were all but gone and the last car before the engine was all that was left to clear. It was an armored car, the enchanted crow-bar damaged door bore the markings of the Magic Council as well a stamp that looked like two half-circles barely touching.

"PECOC…?" Gajeel wrinkled his nose at the split marking of that particular Council sector. "Why the hell would PECOC or the Council send anything needing an armored train car… on a passenger train?"

He quickly shook his head. That could wait.

The light in the armored car was harsh, a large panek of bright, sterile white lacrima providing a terrible view. Gajeel smashed the lacrima lighting panel with a well-aimed Iron Dragon's Club. It left the bandits alone in the dark with boxes and crates and pallets… and Gajeel.

A metallic scent drenched the car, sharp and harsh... and so very delicious. The cargo was something with a very high iron content, making Gajeel's stomach rumble and his mouth water.

It was distracting, but made it easier to scent for his prey that smelled downright awful. Like grease, smoke, and very faint traces of a spicy cologne that Gajeel could have sworn he'd smelled before. He couldn't place where…


"Narc," the dark mage spat with a wet, ragged breath.

Cobra flexed his fingers, crooking the tips of his claws in even deeper, soaking in the pained cry his prey let out as painful venom leached into his system. "Didn't quite catch that. You'll have to speak up if even I can't hear you."

The man slumped to the dirt with a wet thump, the hole in his chest wafting trails of red smoke. Three more bodies dotted in a sort of trail alongside the train.

The dark mages from Naked Mummy were obvious, with their magic vehicles and motorcycles they'd been mostly used as contraband runners or getaway drivers. Naked Mummy had been one of Racer's lot, but they knew of Cobra. Knew enough to still fear him. Cowards, but they knew enough ride away from a fight they couldn't win... It was the back-up from another dark guild that didn't seem to be on the same page.

These new guys bore a guild seal design of an eye with a corkscrew tail. Vaguely familiar, but Cobra didn't outright recognize the symbol. If they were newer, he wouldn't be too surprised - he'd been out of the game for months now. However, one thing was obvious: a lot of them held a lot of bitterness towards the Council and Fairy Tail.

He glanced around at the low-level thugs, hearing murmurs laced with fear as the bandits weighed their options:

Is the stuff on the train worth it?

The Revenant won't be happy if we come back empty-handed...

Are you crazy? That guy ran through them like butter!

"Anybody else want to call me a narc?"


The train robbery foiled, the remaining dark mages fled in a flurry of wheels and engine roars.

Gajeel opened the side-door of the armored car to finish tossing out the trash he'd beaten up inside. He caught sight of his mate standing off to the side of the open door, his hood down as he listened to who knew what out in the forest surrounding the stopped train.

"They get any of it?" he asked.

"Five crates of whatever it is they stole," Cobra replied. "They didn't know what they were stealing. Just that they were supposed to steal it."

"Car's full of metal. Lot'sa cold iron," Gajeel said. In a half-busted crate he knocked his knuckles against a stack of small white metal bars, each no bigger than a candy bar. "The rest is stainless steel and some copper."

Cobra glanced at untouched spools of copper wiring and left-behind copper cauldrons. "They took mostly cold iron. But they left the copper behind, which doesn't make sense. The copper has more street value for alchemy. You can synthesize cold iron, but not copper." His ears perked, though one pinned back towards the iron dragon. "Put it back."

Gajeel snorted, taking the end of the bar of cold iron out of his mouth, spit stringing from his lips to the metal. "I gotta taste it ta tell of it's the real deal or the homebrew kind."

"I meant the four bars you shoved into your pockets." He turned to look at Gajeel, briefly glancing down to the rectangular shapes that outlined against the rough fabric of his pants.

"Hey. My eyes are up here, Slitherfuck," Gajeel gloated through a mouthful of cold iron. He swallowed, inspecting the bitten bar in his hand with suspicion, then put only one of the four bars he'd taken back. "Hm. It's real. Doesn't have the snap of the synthetic kind when I bite into it."

"Authentic cold iron is hard to get," Cobra commented.

"Mm," Gajeel agreed, shoving the rest of his delicious snack into his mouth with a few big bites. "Don't know what a dark guild or PECOC would want with real cold iron."

"Their boss wanted it, from what I heard. Given that they didn't know what they were stealing, it's likely just wanted to steal something from the Council for bragging rights." The redhead shook his head. "Oracion Seis managed the minor dark guilds, so it makes sense that with us… gone... that the ones the Council hasn't rounded up yet are scrambling."

"Cut the head off and the legs run wild," Gajeel reasoned with a shrug. "So were these bandits old friends of yours?"

"Not entirely," Cobra said. His shoe prodded the side of a fallen dark mage, turning the stilled man over to better see the guild symbol stamped on the man's wrist. "I know those goons that fled on motorcycles were from Naked Mummy. But I'm not familiar with this other symbol."

Out of curiosity, Gajeel turned his head to glance at the symbol on the dead man's wrist and all color drained from his face.

In a dark, muddy color an eye with a corkscrew tail stared back: the symbol of Phantom Lord.

Notes:

Hey all, I really want to thank you for the kind comments you guys have been leaving all over the place! Big thank you to CoSmO333, shes, IronDragon4, Stephanie, Venomslayer, and the cojeel-loving friends from tumblr for all the encouraging words as this fic has gone on.

I also wanted to share that a Mandarin translation of this fic is now available! Major thanks to shes for translating!

I don't mind translations of this fic going up as long as you provide a link (so I can be nosy. ^.^')

Chapter 21: The Chairman

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Dragons have long been admired for their physical and magical strength…” ~ Dragon Historia, pg 6

Chapter Twenty-one: The Chairman

At first, when the news that the armored car carrying the supplies for PECOC’s newest project had been robbed, he had feigned shock before going on about how it would set everything back.

A setback was certainly within the realm of things he could handle - after all, he wasn’t the Chairman of PECOC for show. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed handling such setbacks, even if they were minor.

And planned.

Emerald green eyes, set into a tanned face with high cheekbones, watched the recorded security footage. The images played out in the round observation lacrima that sat in the palm of his gloved hand and he watched with mild interest - listening to the sounds, basking in the warmth of the lit fireplace in his office.

The events weren't hard to follow… at least until that brutish asset had come in, smashing the lacrima light panel the recording crystal was hidden inside of. The footage went dark after that, accompanied only by the recorded sounds of the ensuing fight - crates cracking and metal scraping and a Phantom Lord bandit screaming .

The Chairman rolled his eyes. He brushed a long, dark lock of hair behind his ear.

Overkill. But what else could be expected of Dragonkin ? Dragons and their ilk were some of the most powerful and needlessly destructive Etheric races in the realm.

And the asset noted in his files as DKN-008 had a particular knack for excessive force.

The Chairman ran a black-leather covered finger over the lacrima, fast forwarding through the audible carnage - though not flinching from the sped-up noise of slaughter. It wasn’t new or shocking behavior, and was wholly expected in context of DKN-008. With such a track record, he didn’t know why that particular asset was still running free amongst people .

He glanced at the report in front of him, stopping the recording on the timestamp that had been noted as relevant to the missing supplies.

"They get any of it?" the asset could be heard asking.

Another voice responded: "Five crates of whatever it is they stole."

He arched a single, dark, manicured brow. He hadn’t heard that voice before.

The new voice continued: “They didn’t know what they were stealing. Just that they were supposed to steal it.”

"Car’s full of metal. Lot’sa cold iron. The rest is stainless steel and some copper."

"They took mostly cold iron. But they left the copper behind, which doesn't make sense. The copper has more street value for alchemy. You can synthesize cold iron, but not copper.”

It wasn’t unheard of for DKN-008 to work with others occasionally; though, the records noted that it was far more rare for this asset to willingly cooperate with all but a very select few people. And, with the tone of this new voice, it sounded very much like a willing team-up. DKN-008 was familiar with this person, that much was clear; deferring to this person, who seemed to know a little too much about the street value of precious metals.

"Put it back."

"I gotta taste it ta tell of it's the real deal or the homebrew kind."

"I meant the four bars you shoved into your pockets."

"Hey. My eyes are up here, Slitherfuck," the asset slyly taunted.

The green-eyed man blinked, momentarily taken by surprise. That remark wasn’t bluntly delivered, it sounded more like familiar teasing. Was the asset flirting with this new person? Now that was certainly very new behavior.

Who in the world was this new person, changing asset behavior so much?

He sped the recording along until he heard the arrival of Council forces.

“Names?” the Rune Knight questioned them.

“Gajeel Redfox,” replied DKN-008.

“Cobra Ophidias,” said the new voice.

That name. Where had he heard that name before? With gloved fingers, he shuffled through the files on his desk until he found what he was looking for: an Etheric employment registration form for Fairy Tail, the asset designation tag still pending.

It was the file that had been quietly tucked into a major incident report. The main Magic Council branch had, annoyingly, delivered to his desk as if he didn’t have a whole staff to handle such cases!

The picture of the individual in question didn’t look like much; a somewhat rounder head, chestnut skin with golden undertones, narrow violet eyes, dark red hair that blended it all together into an ethereal smear that wasn’t bad on the eyes. It was hard to believe this young knife-ear was once near the top of the Fioran underworld - but if there was one thing working in PECOC taught someone, it was that the most dangerous preternatural beings tended to be a little on the attractive side while somehow also not looking like very much.

NAME: COBRA OPHIDIAS
DOB: N/A | AGE: 18 | SEX: M
SPEC.: ELF [ELFAERIN]
MAGIC: DRAGONSLAYER | ASOC.: POISON
GUILD: FAIRY TAIL
DESIG.: PENDING

There were twelve Dragonkin assets in the continental PECOC database, though only four in Fiore; all but two of them had Human as the other part of their heritage… There hadn’t been an Elf registered in quite some time, not since the days of the dreaded Beau Gwynnlyn, who had fled Fiore a decade before the Council switched to keeping records via Magic Archive Storage.

But Dragonkin or Elf: that was the debate amongst the Archive-users on where this asset should be filed. That was one of the shortcomings with using Archive magic to file away everything; an asset had to be recorded as being one thing, it couldn’t be recorded as two things or else all the runes in the archival stream would corrupt. Picky things.

Though, the Chairman had a say in where this newest asset would end up. Given this new information, that being a willing partnership with DKN-008, this new asset would probably be best filed away with the other Dragonkin. Making this new one’s tag DKN-013. 

He set down the security lacrima on his desk and picked up a pen, twirling it between gloved fingers twice before filling in the new asset’s designation tag.

“Thirteen. That is quite the unlucky number,” the man hummed in agreement with himself. A short, posh chuckle escaped him. “Unlucky thirteen is an all-around holotype. That figures.”

But a holotype wouldn’t be bad for the Project, now that he thought on it. In fact, it could make the Project all that more valuable in the end.


 

It was inside a small tavern that the Chairman found the former Saint. In the countryside and far out of the way, it was a neutral place; one of the rare establishments where light and dark could be found in equal measure, passing each other by in ignorance.

Jose Porla was almost twenty-years older than the Chairman, but barely taller, with greasy black hair that was slicked back and freshly-shaven face… which did nothing to change his visually unappealing features. The man had a long face, overly-sharp features - cheeks hollowed out from being magic-shorn for months… and that was when the Chairman had contacted the Ex-Saint while he was still in prison. It would take much more than a shave to change all of it.

“Is everything still clear at Blackgate?” the Ex-Saint asked him. His traveler’s cloak rustled as he placed his hands on the table in show that he was unarmed.

“I see you have forgotten manners during your prison stay,” the Chairman answered. As he sat down, he felt the tingling wave of soundproofing runes take over their booth in the corner. Porla clenched his fists on the table and the lights in the tavern dimmed for a second or two. “But to answer your question, the guards at Blackgate haven’t discovered your fetch yet.”

Porla exhaled hard, his teeth grit behind inky lips. “Good, good.”

“They’re handy, aren’t they? Fetches,” the Chairman eyed Porla with suspicion. “I had no idea they were in your repertoire of spells.”

“You learn some things in prison, make new friends in darker places.”

“Mm,” the Chairman sounded in modest agreement. “Speaking of some of your new friends, I’ve heard that you contacted some to assist in picking up the payment I arranged for you.” He pursed his lips in on obviously fake imitation of surprise. “I’ve also heard that your friends had some trouble picking up all of the payment…?”

“Quit acting so haughty, Deedmore. You know what happened.”

Elderich Deedmore, the Chairman of PECOC, smirked as he stroked his anchor goatee. “Your quarry found you before you began your hunt.” 

The lights in the tavern dimmed again as Porla’s temper flared and other patrons began to take notice of the slow flickering. Elderich only shook his head.

“While you are certainly a choice for this specific matter, I can’t stress enough that, ultimately, I’m paying you for asset containment . Do what you want beforehand,” Elderich waved a gloved hand dismissively, “But the asset needs to have a pulse and steady vitals when it makes it into our custody. It’s useless if it’s dead.” He held up a finger, stopping Porla before he opened his mouth to speak. “No, it cannot be reanimated . We do have people that would be able to identify signs of necromancy.”

“You have a long list of demands for me, for someone half my age at that,” Porla sneered.

“You should know that one does not get anywhere without demands and playing politics. Or making acquaintances in strange places, making compromises, offering bonuses… so on and so forth.”

The Ex-Saint frowned. “Consider your hint taken,” he said, too heavily on the S-sound at the end. “Is this about the other Dragonslayer from Fairy Tail, the fire one?”

Elderich gave a half-shrug. “You’ve been… indisposed for a while now. They’ve become a hot spot of sorts for Dragonkin.” He chuckled, amused by himself: “A regular dragon’s den.”

“So how many does that old Dreyar bastard have under his roof now?”

“Five.”

Five?!

“Five,” the Chairman nodded. “But what’s interesting to note is that the specific asset in question is not working alone…”

Notes:

Elderich is an old OC of mine. He was used in an old Fairy Tail roleplay (shoutout to anyone from Guild Crisis!) and later used beyond.

His name is pronounced El-de-rick. Fun fact about him is that in the original roleplay he was an S-class mage from Blue Pegasus... here he will take on a decidedly more dark role.

Chapter 22: If You're With Me

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"The magic-fueled bond of a mated pair is a source of great strength for dragons in a successful mateship; a great strength, and a great weakness." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 70

Chapter Twenty-two: If You're With Me

Gajeel was pleased when he thought that he recognized the feeling of one of his favorite dreams coming over him.

The great gold-trimmed doors gave way to the guild hall - only for him to see normally clumsily-arranged sets of rough wooden tables and chairs strangely orderly. As he strode in towards his usual throne, the furniture began to change in shape and material - rounded, rough wood edges gave way to sharp metal corners and chairs. He flinched at the sudden memory of steel legs scraping too loudly on the polished concrete floor.

It was only when the sound of his own footsteps echoed back to him did he notice that the Fairy Tail guild hall was silent, save for his own footfalls and foggy breathing.

He blinked, his mind unable to place why the tables, chairs, and flooring weren't quite right. It was all familiar, but it wasn't right.

This… wasn't his favorite dream.

The longer he thought on it, the more the building around him warped; old stone and adobe walls shifted to cinderblocks and bricks, the warm lighting from wagon-wheel chandeliers changed to cold-fire sconces that lined the walls.

When did the guild hall get so… gray?

Where was everybody…?

His chest tightened as a dark familiarity dawned on him. Breathless, he suddenly found himself unable to suck in air.

He knew this place. All too well. The Phantom Lord guild hall. But it had been months, almost half a year, since he'd last set foot in the hall of the Phantoms. Yet here it was in front of him, along with that old feeling of walking on cracking glass, as if he'd never left.

Growing dizzy, he fought to keep his present in his thoughts. He wasn't supposed to be there; the war was over. He was a Fairy now, even if begrudgingly at first, no longer a bitter Phantom. Things now are… better than back then, he told himself. Less shitty.

He wasn't dealing with inconsistent, near-impossible orders anymore.

He wasn't being sent to some far-flung place at a moment's notice for stupid, petty reasons.

He wasn't being riled up and set off on unsuspecting people, and he wasn't expected to fight, to make things gorey unless he wanted to.

Gajeel turned to find the great doors gone and replaced with a flat, featureless wall. Red eyes clenched shut, clawed fingers gripping his hair near his temples, his mind was racing as he tried to keep his thoughts straight.

He had a house now.

He wasn't the only Dragonslayer around anymore.

Hell, he even had a-

His eyes snapped open, slit pupils pinning. Mate. A rush of energy washed over him. He had a mate!

Where is Cobra ?


Gajeel woke with a bounce as he jerked himself awake, heart pounding and chest heavy as he tried to catch his breath. Damp sweat made the fabric of his green plaid pajama bottoms stick to his ankles and the back of his knees, strands of hair clung to his back and forehead. His eyes darted around the room, searching for danger that was not there.

Dawn was hours away, and the bedroom was bathed in a muted darkness that hid color and made everything appear almost black and white.

The only movement came with a shift of blankets as Cobra stirred next to him. The redhead half-sat up, and Gajeel pointedly avoided looking at him - though he felt his gaze on the side of his head.

If Cobra heard anything about Gajeel's dream, he said nothing out loud - which Gajeel was thankful for right then.

Having a shitty dream was one thing... but who the fuck had a nightmare about an empty room? Who felt fear when faced with nothing? What kind of dragon cowered from bad dreams?

It was a stupid reaction to a stupid dream and Gajeel definitely didn't want to talk about it. Especially in the middle of the night.

Cobra sleepily rubbed his right eye, his pointed ears swirling in tiny motions as he listened. He then settled back down on his side, facing Gajeel, and waited expectantly. Gajeel let out a stubborn breath, the tension in his posture going with it. If it hadn't been a dream, if there was some form of danger, then Cobra would've heard it five miles away.

Giving in to his mate's silent reassurance of safety, Gajeel threw himself back down onto his pillow. Cobra threw an arm loosely across Gajeel's upper chest and Gajeel felt calming weariness seep into his muscles as he let himself be drawn closer, letting himself be held.

The iron dragon's usual method of dealing with a bad dream was to turn on a light and wait out the post-dream paranoia or wait for exhaustion to knock him back out, usually around when the sun rose and the night was wasted. When he was overtired, he tended to snap at people. But that had been before; before Fairy Tail, before Cobra.

Before... when Gajeel had been alone.

He fought back heavy eyelids, wanting to lay there in Cobra's arms, breathing in the scent of his mate through the loose t-shirt he wore to bed. Eventually he succumbed to the lapping, coaxing flow of their magic between them.

When his red eyes finally closed, he did not dream of the old Phantom Lord guild hall again that night.


The sound of distant, wet footsteps caught Cobra's attention as he finished getting dressed for the day. The crunching steps of heels on gravel echoed through even the hiss of rainfall on the metal roof, through the rustle of fabric as he pulled his usual black shirt and red pants on.

He glanced to the bed where Gajeel was still splayed out, asleep. The visitor was coming to see him - Cobra could hear it - and after the strange nightmare he'd had, Cobra was only a little hesitant to wake him.

He placed his hand on his sleeping partner's shoulder and nudged him. "Gajeel, get up. You've got company."

A low grunt-like groan rumbled from the iron dragon as he turned onto his side, his back to the bedroom door and whoever had dared to visit before he'd woken up.

The handle of the front door jiggled, followed by four knocks.

"Gajeel, are you in there?" a woman's voice called. "Juvia wonders why your door is locked! Is everything okay?"

"Does no one in this guild understand what a locked door is for," Cobra quietly hissed as he shut the door to the spare bedroom, then made his way downstairs to the front door. He grabbed his coat, sliding it on and placing the hood over his head and ears, before turning the handle of the door.

There stood a sopping wet bluenette woman in a white sundress, with ocean-blue eyes lined-under by clear dark bags.

"Ah, hello, Cobra," Juvia blinked, surprise taking over her face for a split-second upon seeing the redhead answer the door. "Juvia forgot that you have moved in with Gajeel. Juvia apologizes if she was knocking too loudly."

She bowed her head. Cobra could hear that his presence explained the locked door in her thoughts.

Cobra had a certain amount of self-awareness that he was not the best with people. In a lot of ways, being a dark mage assassin was easier than being a normal person: you didn't have to talk to the people you were sent to kill. But Juvia was also one of the few people Gajeel considered a friend, so he'd do his best not to frighten her further.

"Gajeel's still asleep," Cobra said, somewhat stiffly. She was obviously tired, and cautious of him. "He... had a long night."

"Ah, Juvia has also…" her voiced trailed. "Though, if Gajeel is asleep, Juvia will come back another time, then."

Cobra stepped back, opening the door further. "No. You can come in. I'll go wake him up."

"Sometimes he is very cranky when he's woken," she commented, as if she were warning him of something he didn't already know. But Juvia stepped inside all the same.

"I honestly haven't noticed," Cobra replied sarcastically. This seemed to amuse Juvia enough for her to stifle a small laugh.


The first time Cobra had tried to rouse him, the attempt had barely registered to the iron dragon. The second attempt resulted in the mattress being lifted and Gajeel tipping out onto the floor.

It was not a gentle way to wake up, but when gentle options ran out, it was Cobra that wasn't afraid of using the harder options in order to get results. It was something that Gajeel found himself really liking about the poison dragon... just not at that exact moment.

"Th'fuck did you do that fer?!" Gajeel barked up at the redhead. If anyone else had dared to dump him out of bed, he would have sunk his fangs into the meat of their leg.

"I said: you have company," Cobra folded his arms across his chest. The Elf was already dressed, the hood of his coat up to obscure his ears; if they were alone, he wouldn't have hidden himself under his coat.

"Some fuckin' wake-up call," Gajeel grumbled sorely, scratching at his black mane. "And after you were so cuddly last night-"

Cobra snapped at him in whispered warning: "Shut it, Juvia's downstairs. I'm supposed to be your roommate, idiot."

Right. Their relationship was supposed to be low-key. Juvia wouldn't expose them… at least not for a few days after she found out, Gajeel was sure of that. But eventually all the bottled-up talk of dating and romance (if you could call being dumped out of bed by a pissy Elf "romantic") would come spilling out of her to the other girls in the guild. Sometimes Juvia was a like a bottle of soda: sweet and bubbly, but she'd explode into a mess under certain pressures.

"Yeah, yeah." Gajeel got up and as he did, he noticed the particular shade of gray the sky outside was just beyond the window pane, the solemn way the rain drizzled. "Huh. She hasn't had a rain episode in a while…"

The poison dragon hesitated near the bedroom doorway. "I'm going to the guild."

Gajeel's studded brows knit in offended confusion. "What, by yerself?"

"Are you upset that I'm going someplace without you?" Cobra slyly taunted, a subtle smirk curving his lips as he enjoyed the sound of the dismissive snort his boyfriend made. "Something tells me that you're not the only ones who had a nightmare last night. The guild's library is shit compared to Brain's-" nope, he still wanted to bite his own tongue off after saying that name "-but there's something I want to check out."

Gajeel blinked, as if he'd misheard what his mate had said, then broke out into a knowing, toothy grin. "Aw, you really do care, dontchya?"


Eight lacrima dodecahedra spun on their ends on the small table in front of him, circling each other, eight little spinning blurs tied to eight consuming nightmares. Only one stopped spinning, clattering uselessly to the tabletop as the remaining seven continued their dark dance.

The small crystal was cracked near its center: a sure sign that the spell had been broken from the target's end. Thin lips wrenched into a displeased sneer as, for the first time in ages, his Mind Shade spell was broken.

Far below, on the ground floor of the warehouse their operation was staged in, eyes nervously flicked up to the Phantom Master's platform. Jose's change in expression caused the few Phantoms in the ranks below to flinch, quietly shuffling for the nearest exit in a subtle way that their new companions from Naked Mummy did not have a grasp on yet.

To the untrained eye, it would have simply appeared that he was doing divination magic and has seen an unfavorable outcome. Very few people ever knew of his innate ability to creep into the dreamscapes of others - and most of those who knew were dead. The sleeping mind was susceptible to all manner of influence and sleep-deprived individuals were easier to fight, work up, or persuade. Becoming a form of nightmare bogeyman had been how he'd gotten his start so many years ago.

But Jose had been without full magic for months; and he refused to consider that it had anything to do with his age. One of his targets had simply gotten lucky.

The former Saint picked up the small crystal, rolling between his fingers as he got a feel for who had just a little too much luck on their side. The familiar tingle of Old Magic buzzed through his fingertips.

"Gajeel…?" he mumbled, somewhat surprised.

It was odd that his former right-hand had fought back against the magic at all. Good or bad, Gajeel had always gone along with his dreams. He'd never pushed for any specific outcomes, and he'd certainly never fought the boogeyman magic Jose had used to remind him of his place now and again.

The last feeling that ebbed from the broken crystal was one of searching. Gajeel was looking for someone in his dream, someone whose absence gave Gajeel the drive to subconsciously fight back. Someone very close and very important: like a sibling or dear friend… or a lover.

Jose frowned deeper as he flicked the broken crystal to the stone tile under his table, crushing it with the heel of his boot.

This meant that Deedmore was right.

And Jose hated that fact.

Notes:

Hey, gang! Another couple days and I'll be on break from my day job for a few weeks. I plan on sleeping for a solid week and then pumping out some new chapters. (I have stuff plotted out, I'm just... so tired... oTL)

Also, if you haven't, check out this beautiful picture of the Metal Toxin Dragon Unison Raid!

Chapter 23: Dragon Historia, pt 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"It is worth noting that while there are many baser instincts that can influence behavior, there is a distinct behavioral difference between wild, or 'feral' dragons, and dragons raised in captivity." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 88

Chapter Twenty-three: Dragon Historia, pt 1

Team Gajeel mostly went to the guild during the slow hours or late at night, when their guildmates were out on their own jobs, heading out on their own assignments, or asleep. It left the guild hall mostly empty.

Even at those hours, the few people that were left were too tired to care or part of the late-night bar staff - who had all come to know Cobra as Kinana’s brother who would scare off more obnoxiously-entitled customers as if he were silently summoned. The staff didn’t give the pair of Dragonslayers so much as a sideways glance any more after the first time a too-handsy patron had been encouraged to leave. Hell, it sometimes earned them both free food. ( Free food was one of Gajeel’s favorite kinds of food, not that Cobra would disagree.)

However, a quiet, near-empty guild hall was not what awaited the lone poison dragon.

Though… he could hear that it wasn’t as noisy as it should have been during prime daytime hours. The sound of anxiety hung in the air, deep and resolute like a large bell, even from several streets away.

He stopped right at the frame of Fairy Tail’s main doors, his ears pinning back in annoyance under his hood. While the main hall wasn’t as noisy, certain people still were.

In and out, he told himself, you just have to check the library.

Cobra had not taken two steps inside the guild before he spotted what had made him hesitate. Team Natsu sat at one of the tables near the bar, having just returned from a job if the scuffed travel packs were any indication. All of them, save for their very annoying namesake, were almost falling asleep at the table, despite the fire dragon’s chattering.

“It was pink ,” Natsu snickered behind his fingers.

Lucy yawned. “Natsu... Your hair is pink.”

The fire dragon grinned; wide, mischievous, and bright. It was clear even from a distance that he was the only one on his Team that wasn’t exhausted. “Yeah, but people expect me to be pink.”

“I thought it was more like a magenta color,” a shirtless, sleepy Gray mused, resting his chin in his palm.

“Magenta’s pink,” Natsu huffed.

The ice mage was not deterred. “No, magenta is magenta. That’s why it’s not called pink .”

“Magenta. Is. A. Shade. Of. Pink!

“Not according to color theory, asshole!”

Cobra folded his arms tight against his chest, shaking his head. I think being in the same room is making me go deaf…

He moved to keep walking, but it was too late: his unusual, lone presence at that time of day had been noticed.

“Cobra!” Natsu called out to him. The fire dragon hopped up from the table, immediately dropping his argument with the Ice Make Mage in favor of a bigger battle with a bigger potential prize.

“God-fucking-dammit,” the poison dragon muttered under his breath. His upper lip curled back to display his fangs in warning show. “What do you want, Natsu? I’m busy.”

“You and Gajeel are always in and out of the guild so fast that I haven’t been able to catch you,” Natsu flexed his fingers, flames dancing between them, his eyes wide with excitement. "You said that one of you two would fight me!" 

"I didn't," Cobra said with no heat.

"You promised!"

"I explicitly remember that I did not."

"It was kind of implied when we left, so that you two could be alone in the woods," a sleepy Happy chimed in, landing on the fire dragon’s right shoulder. The small blue cat gasped as he filled in blanks the fire dragon could not. "Wait. Alone? In the woods? Togeeeeether...? "

"Next time get it in writing," Cobra told them, completely ignoring the cat's tone.

“You can’t just say you’re gonna fight and then not fight .” Rose-colored eyebrows knit into a determined look as Natsu pointed a finger square at Cobra’s chest. “I want a rematch with you. We got interrupted last time, let’s see who’d really win!”

Cobra swatted Natsu’s hand away. “I don’t have time for this,” he lowly hissed. “I’ve got more important things to do right now.”

“What is more important than a fight?!”

“You’re making a scene.”

“No, you’re making a scene by not fighting me!”

Cobra shook his head, sighing, before motioning with his hand in direction of the tired mages at the table the fire dragon had abandoned. He took a Very. Deep. Breath. “ Look ," he said sharply, fangs glinting as he spoke, "Your friends didn’t sleep very well last night, right ?”

Natsu tilted his head, eyeing Cobra with caution. The poison dragon was not usually one to come to the guild alone in recent weeks, or concern himself too much with others, and considering his question it had made the fire dragon uneasy yet curious.

“Yeah,” Natsu answered with a small nod. “Lucy’s been having some wicked bad dreams lately. Actually, since the news that Phantom Lord’s come back, a lot of people in the guild have been having bad dreams.”

The information that the guild’s resident celestial spirit mage had been having repeated nightmares was an interesting note that Cobra filed away in the back of his mind. She wasn’t his major concern: but if Natsu was telling the truth - and Cobra had no doubts that Natsu would lie when it came to his guildmates’ well-being - then this little dream problem had been going on for longer than he’d thought.

“Don’t you think that’s… strange ?”

At that, Natsu actually paused, scratching his head as he tried to work out what Cobra meant by that. “Why? Are you hearing voices-”

The poison dragon bristled. “You know that’s not how it works!”

“But am I right? Do you hear that something is making them all have bad dreams? Something related to Phantom Lord?”

Cobra frowned. “Not exactly. I know two other people who have had them, and it seems that everyone’s had them all on the same nights. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Oh!” Happy chirped, perking up. “And you were going to look for answers in the guild library! That does sound a little more important than a fight, Natsu…”


The Fairy Tail Guild Library was a vast chamber, bordered on all walls with towering bookshelves set into the walls; there were a few bare spots in the rows of books, which did little to reassure Cobra that he’d find the information he was looking for. Carpeted staircases bordered either side of the room, leading up to the second level where the massive border shelves touched the ceiling.

The two-level library was open in the center, allowing sunlight to cascade through a glass skylight set in an intricate circular design similar to the guild’s seal. The shelves spaced through the center of the room broke against the far wall, where a number of tables and well-loved arm chairs basked in the glow of another large window.

Cobra glanced around at the alien sight of books in an almost inviting environment.

His former master’s library had been grandiose and filled to the brim with hundreds of books gathered over the old man’s various careers; high vaulted ceilings and stately furnishings. The air was always still and tense and filled with expectations . He remembered long hours being forced to study the “basics” and “classics” - Brain, the intellectual shit stain he was, wasn’t going to stand for being stuck with the uneducated. He taught the Seis enough to meet his snobby standards - but never enough to pose a threat to his “genius”.

For a brief second, Cobra clenched his eyes shut and shook his head; bringing himself back to his present reality. 

A few Fairies milled about the library freely - and all their eyes turned to the Dragonslayers that had just walked in. Or, rather - their eyes specifically went to the pinkette fire dragon that had decided to tag along with Cobra.

It was one of the shorter bookish mages, Levy, that pointed right at Natsu and, with a command in her voice far greater than her stature, ordered: “ O U T.

“Levy, we swear, it’s important this time!” Happy tried to persuade the script mage, but she would not be deterred.

“You’re not ‘accidentally’ burning down half the library again,” she said. She rose from her chair and pointed out of the library again.

And that was where Cobra tried to stop listening, really. With them all distracted, he made his way to the reference section of the library: stopping only once he’d gotten to the ‘D’ section.

Daemon Historia, 13th Edition; no, that wasn’t it.

He scanned book titles with his eyes, looking for one of the volumes he’d had in mind. The guild had a lot more books than he’d originally guessed, but Cobra had no idea why some of these were grouped together.

Dog Charms: 101 Magical Ways To Care For Your Dog…? Cobra’s features scrunched. Why did the guild even have this book here?! His ears pinned back in annoyance. Did they use “reference” as a catchall…?

Draegloth Historia, nope.

Draftsmanship Magicka. Dragaredokko, Cúchulainn, and Other Select Northern Continent Operas, 2nd Edition. Nope and nope.

Cobra felt his breath leave him when he caught the title of the next book on the shelf. Gold-letters on the spine of a decently thick book read: Dragon Historia.

His dark fingers hovered over the book on the shelf. This wasn’t what he was here to find. But he couldn't pull his eyes away from it.

But… It was one of the few books Brain hadn’t had some version of. The old bastard had only managed to photocopy a few pages back when he worked in R&D for the Magic Council.

The original anthology was kept under lock and key in the national archives in Crocus. Not many places carried copies of it… after all, who needed to research dragons in the modern era? Practically no one.

Hastily copied pages about old flight territories and nesting sites - half of the pages in a dead language that no one spoke anymore - given to him as a child, as nothing more than an afterthought. The margins had scrawled notes about theoretical deposits of dragon lacrima, the backs of the pages covered in equations that as a kid Cobra couldn’t ever hope to work out.

Infusing a person with dragon lacrima, proving a point by creating him, had been the goal of Brain’s research; Cobra had now come to understand.

Providing him with a guide on how to deal with an ancient magic nobody had dealt with in centuries? Not so much.

Shakily, he pulled it from the shelf and held it in his hand for a moment. His eyes ran over the cover - the same color as his scales, he sardonically noted - this copy had been obviously well-used. Now that he had it off the shelf, a flurry of scents called to him: it seemed that every other Dragonslayer in the guild had handled this book at one point or another... Wendy had been the most recent reader.

Had this... been here for all these years? So easily picked up and read?

Everybody else has had their grimy hands all over it. What’s stopping you from opening it, he mentally huffed at himself. It’s just a book. 

Finally, he flipped the cover open. More curious than anything, he glanced over pages for anything that caught his eye. He paused only briefly to catch that metal-family dragons were known for having extremely sensitive noses… which sort of explained why Gajeel had such a near-fetish for smelling everything, Cobra included.

Aaaand Cobra definitely skipped past the entire section where certain anatomy was sketched out in just a little too much detail. There was a fine, fine line between scientific accuracy and whatever the fuck that spread was.

But... it was a voice that pulled his attention away from the book, the little inner voice of a child that he heard clear as day from behind him: He doesn’t even know anything.

Cobra whirled around, where the sight of the empty aisle and no child greeted him. He slid Dragon Historia back onto the shelf and listened: Natsu was pacing by the entryway to the library; some pervert extra was enjoying the magazine archives a little too much; Levy was walking towards him; and there, in the din of it all, was a muted sound akin to someone thinking while underwater…

Notes:

Some of the books mentioned are jokes (like the dog one) and others point to other Etheric races (like Daemon/Demons), but the one that has some real-life basis is Dragaredokko, Cúchulainn, and Other Select Northern Continent Operas, 2nd Edition.

Dragaredokko is a "lost" Norwegian opera, the only known copy was destroyed in a mysterious fire in 1970.

Cúchulainn is a demigod in Irish and Scottish mythology, and is the subject of quite a few songs/plays.

Chapter 24: Dragon Historia, pt 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"One of the older examples of myths that link dragons both with the divine and knowledge comes from the pre-Dragnofean story of Tiamat, a water dragoness that consorted with the primordial sea god Abzu, and gave birth to the Dragnofean god of knowledge, Eya." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 275

Chapter Twenty-four: Dragon Historia, pt 2

"You."

The petite bluenette glowered up at him. Levy's dark amber eyes were hard and tired behind the glasses that sat low on her nose; clearly yet another victim of the nightmares that were plaguing the guild. Her thoughts were formless as her mind cycled - trying to find the words she wanted to say and failing - and were mostly muddled to Cobra's ears.

With a heavy sigh, Cobra held up fingers as he listed the few clear answers that he heard she wanted from him: "I know what a book is. I know how to find things in a library. And I'm looking for something specific."

Levy's posture laxed, though her suspicions of him did not.

"And," Cobra went on, "My element isn't fire."

Finally, she let out a frustrated yet accepting breath, lifting the glasses from her nose to sit on top of her head. "Sorry, sorry. Natsu's not allowed within eight feet of any of these shelves. When I saw him come in with you I just assumed…" Rubbing her left eye, she sighed apologetically. "I guess I'm just kind of crabby today."

"If you weren't going to kick him out, I would have eventually. He's not anywhere near as helpful as he thinks." His comment earned a head shake from the shorter mage. "Especially if he's not allowed within eight feet of anything useful."

"There was a fire-related incident in the young adult fiction section a few years back," Levy explained. "Let's just say he didn't like the ending to the Maximum Rider series. Freed was supposed to fix the library's rune barriers after Fantasia, but he's been off sulking for weeks now." Levy glanced back towards the main guild hall, as if the persons she spoke of could hear her vent her disapproval.

"I didn't figure Natsu for someone that would be into that."

Levy blinked, replaying what she had said in her mind. "Young adult fiction…?"

"Reading."

Levy rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "You have terribly low opinions of your guildmates."

"Mm," Cobra hummed in a short, sarcastic reply. "And this is when I'm on the same side as you."

"Ugh, I can see why you and Gajeel are friends," she mumbled into her own hand. "What are you looking for, anyways?"

"A couple things."

"Like what," she said, more assertively. Signaling that she wasn't going to leave until he told her.

She was exhausted from her own bout with the nightmares, though Cobra shifted uncomfortably on his feet when he heard that hers mostly involved being on the prey end of his boyfriend on the hunt. Still… she knew Cobra was on a team with Gajeel - associated with him - and she held no ill will towards either of them. She seemed to rationalize the nightmare - it wasn't real, it wasn't representative of the present. If anything, she was almost angry someone would make her dream of such a thing.

Cobra eyed her. "Either Dream Zolar or one of the reference volumes of the Encyclopedia Elementum - the volume of mana-psychic phenomenon."

"Are you… looking into the nightmares everyone's been having?" When Cobra nodded, Levy's face lit up at the prospect of someone else looking into the same thing; someone she hadn't considered and was pleasantly surprised by. He could hear that she had run into several dead ends in her own pursuits. "I've already checked the Dream Zolar, there's nothing in there about any dream magic that would affect so many people or give them all different dreams."

Cobra frowned. That wasn't what he was expecting, but it eliminated the avenues of nightmare magic that were more familiar to him.

She tapped her index finger against her chin. "But... I think I have that volume of the Encyclopedia Elementum in my research pile. I haven't touched it yet." She turned on her heel, heading back to her hoard of books. "I can go find it for you. Be right back!"

As soon as Levy had left Cobra's shoulders sunk with relief. His attention went back to locating the source of the younger voice that had piped up when Cobra had had the Dragon Historia in hand. A voice he most definitely heard.

It had sounded like a boy, and the boy had sounded very disapproving of Cobra taking a look at the draconic anthology. Resentful, even. That he "didn't know anything" about being a dragon - and that was the understatement of the century. He knew just how little he knew about dragons and their magic now; how much of it was his own refusal to learn, and what knowledge had simply been denied him.

But how did that kid know…?

With his sensitive ears, the sound of the main guild hall could still be heard clearly through the walls of the library. It was a mixed chorus of tangled sound, though he could pick through the mess of noise enough to be confident that there were no children in the library. At least... no male children.

Under his hood, his right ear perked towards the row of shelves behind him, towards the shaking shape he could hear watching him from between the shelves - trying to work up the courage to approach him.

He didn't turn to look at Wendy as he pretended to search the shelf in front of him. After all, it was true that some would describe him as skittish but the sky dragon truly lived up to the word.

"You don't sound as tired as everyone else," Cobra noted casually, gently letting Wendy know that he knew she was there.

A small squeak and a flurry of too-quick thoughts were what he got for an answer before she steeled herself and came out from behind the shelf. Wringing her hands together she approached him from behind - staying a few steps back. She was alone, and he could hear that she had wanted to speak to him without her Exceed friend cutting in every other word.

"I-I slept fine last night, thank you," Wendy managed to answer, swallowing a lump in her throat. She tucked a long, straight, dark blue strand of hair behind her ear. "You're looking… better."

He paused, turning his head to look at her. She looked back with some expression that was stuck between determination and mild panic.

Then he pieced it together: it had been a while since they had seen each other. Months, even. The last time the young healer saw Cobra he was turning into a lacrima statue. So that's what this is about...

"Yeah." He turned to her, head tilting under his hood. "Took a little while but I can move ag-"

"I'msosorryIkepttryingtoturnyoubackandnothingIdidwasworking!" she suddenly blurted out like a shaken can of soda, bowing half her height.

Cobra only stared at her, unsure what to make of the display… until she started to tear up. His guts always twisted when kids cried and he had absolutely no idea how to handle a kid crying.

Immediately he waved his hands out in front of himself. "I'm fine! Look, I'm right here. Talking to you. All flesh. I'm okay! Really!"

But it was too late. Wendy was now full-blown crying. He could hear that she felt like she had failed to keep a friend safe. Cobra froze at that thought.

A friend?

He had… suffered a lot as a child and so children were a weakness of his; he hated hearing them upset or hurting. And a kid who apparently was looking up to him as an older friend? That was weird - in a warm, fuzzy, nice way.

"There's nothing you could have done," he said plainly. Calmly.

She sniffled at his tone, watery honey-colored eyes flicking up to look at him, her mind wondering just what that meant and if it was supposed to make her feel better.

"There's nothing you could have done," Cobra repeated, "And you still tried. That takes guts, Whirlwind."

Again she sniffled, wiping her damp cheeks with her hands. "You keep calling me Whirlwind," Wendy played with her fingers, then finally looked Cobra right in the eye. "Most people call me Sky Maiden."

Cobra tilted his head. "'Maidens' need saving a lot," he said, shifting to a more relaxed posture to try to set her at ease. "From what I've seen, it's you that's doing a lot of saving."

Wendy's eyes grew big. Her inner voice resonated with a pride that wasn't there a second prior.

"If you want, I'll stop calling you that," Cobra offered.

The sky dragon panicked a little, waving her hands in a similar way to the poison dragon. "N-no! I like it! It's nice!" she practically squeaked, back to her usual self.

With that out of the way, something she had said struck Cobra as significant. "Wendy. Did you say you haven't had any nightmares?"

Wendy blinked up at him. "Uh, no- I-I mean yes? I haven't had any nightmares."

"I haven't had nightmares, either..." Cobra's brows knit together as he pieced together a rough theory.

"Is that... important?"

"Something we have in common might be," he said, turning on his heel and heading for where he could hear Levy going through her mountain of research books. Wendy followed behind him.


Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Natsu pacing just outside the library door. The fire dragon had tuned into the fact that his guild, his family, was in danger and he was not going to be left out of defeating the danger… even if it meant standing in the doorway and warily fearing the wrath of a tiny book mage. Happy stood in his stead by the table they now all gathered at.

"Everyone having the nightmares played key parts in the Fairy-Phantom War," Cobra surmised, causing Levy to whip her head up from her hunt for the Encyclopedia Elementum. He cast an unimpressed, side-eyed glance at the fire dragon in the archway of the library. "So why haven't you?"

"Oh," Natsu perked up from his spot in the doorway, "I don't have dreams."

Wendy looked at him. "You don't dream, Natsu?"

"Nope!" he chirped with pride. As if it were a completely normal answer. "Never have, not even when I was a little kid. Igneel told me that some people just don't dream."

I guess dreaming would take up a certain amount of mental power… thought Cobra dryly, though he held his tongue.

"You haven't tried to dream, Natsu?" Levy incredulously asked.

"I mean… if everybody's having nightmares why would I?"

"He has a good point," Happy agreed. His blue tail kneaded vainly as he pressed a paw to his chest. "But the real question is: why isn't it affecting cats? Everybody knows we're the backbone of this guild."

Cobra pressed his fingers against his temples and rubbed. "The point is," he lightly hissed, raising his voice just barely to get their attention, his fangs peeking out between words, "Excluding Natsu, the memory of participating in the Guild War is being used as a focal point to make it easier for whoever's casting it. Likely to avoid wasting magic on too many people. It explains why so many people have had the nightmares, but not everybody."

"The memory of…?" Levy's eyes went wide. "Mind Shade!" she cried out, before diving back into her research hoard of books. "It was in the Elementum reference volume- where is it?"

After three seconds of switching books around, her hand, gripping the book in question - bound in white leather with a lavender trim - erupted victoriously from her reference lair. She placed it on the table, placing her glasses back on her nose, flipping through page after page until she had come to the M section. Her finger stopped on an entry labeled "Mind Shade".

"It's a Holder-type spell that relies on lacrima to act as a kind of tethering and battery," she paraphrased. "It can be used with intention, but the main point of it is to trap someone's consciousness in their memories or an altered version of a specific memory."

"That sounds horrible," Wendy mumbled.

"So that's why the guild newbies aren't affected," Happy mewled. He pointed a blue paw in Natsu's direction. "But why isn't working on Natsu? He kind of played a big part in the Guild War."

Cobra grit his teeth. "His thinking is a little… abnormal. Whoever is using this spell must be having a hard time locking onto his peanut brain."

Levy shrugged, adding: "I'm leaning towards him being an outlier here."

Even from the doorway, Natsu's grin was wide and bright, full of pride, and he placed his hands on his hips. "So I'm just too awesome for their dumb magic to work on, huh? Knew it."

"Yes, Natsu," Cobra spat nastily, "We're all aware that you're very special."

Wendy shot him a flat glance, the young sky dragon clearly understanding the insult the fire dragon took as a compliment. "Why are they only using this spell at night, though?"

Cobra closed his eyes for a moment, trying to piece it all together. While he did not know much about the former light guild known as Phantom Lord, he was familiar with the "old vindictive asshole Guildmaster" style of thinking - and this situation had that signature all over it. Still, as much as anyone knew, the former Saint that ran the now dark guild was still in prison. And, despite the fact that the Fiore legal system had more holes in it than mountain cheese, Fioran prisons were notoriously difficult to break out of - even for someone once considered powerful enough to be a Saint.

"It's a memory spell, using it at night likely serves two purposes," the poison dragon speculated. "One, to attempt to get us looking into nightmares and not memories. And two, it's a form of sabotage. If people don't sleep, they get weak and careless. In a big group, too many people being sleep-deprived would lead to in-fighting, making them even easier to take down."

"Well, you'd know all about being sneaky and sabotage, right, Cobra?" Happy chattered. "You're one of our resident experts now, after all!"

The blue cat took to the air and landed on Natsu's shoulders when Cobra sharply kicked the Exceed's chair over in warning.

Levy picked up the book, cradling it in her arms. "I'm going to show this to the Master," she said, taking her leave once again. As she passed Natsu in the doorway, she threatened with a tiredly manic smile: "Stay out of the library until Freed fixes everything or I'll ask Cobra to make you stay out."

Cobra folded his arms across his chest, taking slight pleasure in the frightened yelp Natsu let out as Levy brushed past him.

He quietly debated directing his next question to both the other Dragonslayers, figuring he had nothing to lose by asking them: "Have either of you seen a kid running through here? A boy. He's maybe about your age, Wendy."

Wendy shook her head. "No. I'm the only one my age in the guild."

Natsu and Happy glanced at each other, then back to Cobra, also shaking their heads. "Nope," chirped Natsu. "Wendy's right, she's the only one her age around."

"And none of the old fogies have kids around her age, either," Happy commented from Natsu's shoulders. "Maybe you heard a creepy child ghost in the library?" His wings perked with excitement. "Maybe we're just haunted!"

"No," with just a word Cobra stopped that nonsense before it started. "I didn't see him. I heard him and then he left. And I don't think he's one of ours."

Notes:

Like the last chapter, the book titles are references to irl books!

The Encyclopedia Elementum is based off of the The Element Encyclopedia reference series, specifically The Element Encyclopedia of Psychic Phenomenon. I def recommend checking out the other volumes, especially The Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures. They're great starting points for writing or art inspiration.

The Dream Zolar is based off of Zolar's Encyclopedia and Dictionary of Dreams.

Maximum Rider is based off the Maximum Ride book series. (Natsu and I both have the same opinion of the ending. ;p)

Chapter 25: Dragon Historia, pt 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"The spoken language of dragons is known as Emelogian, or 'Sound of [a Dragon's] Tongue', in their ancestral language. Written language is referred to separately as Yulilogian, meaning 'Mark Made [by a Dragon]'." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 212

Chapter Twenty-five: Dragon Historia, pt 3

The rain outside did not lessen after Cobra left for the guild.

Gajeel moved a wooden crate of tools away from the couch, silently signaling that was where Juvia was welcome to sit, and went upstairs to fetch and toss a clean towel at the soaked water mage that had walked all the way to his house without an umbrella. He then threw himself down in one of the boxy armchairs nearby.

"You look like you had a rough night," Gajeel said by way of a greeting. He scratched under the collar of the black t-shirt he threw on for her sake.

Juvia's expression wilted and her eyes immediately deflected to the floor, pulling the towel tight around her shoulders. "Juvia has not had a good night, Gajeel is right," she said quietly. Her dark eyes flicked up to look at the iron dragon. "Cobra said that Gajeel has also had a bad night."

"Apparently it's goin' around."

"Oh... Cobra, too? But he said-"

"Nah," Gajeel shook his head, black mane shaking from the motion. "But he thinks there's something more to it. Heard something he didn't like, maybe."

"Is his hearing that accurate...?" Juvia blinked. Talking seemed to be distracting her from whatever nightmare had caused her to lose control of her rain magic, which was a relief to them both.

Gajeel opened his mouth to reply, then closed it as he thought on the question. "Honestly couldn't tell ya. But I trust him when he says shit like that."

The bluenette woman let out a short laugh that ended in a sniffle and she rubbed her nose with the edge of the towel. "Gajeel is making friends, Juvia sees. It's nice to see he has someone he can trust."

"Yeah," Gajeel sucked in a sharp breath. "A friend… Sure." And nothing else, not while Juvia was around. Nope!

"Sorry, Juvia didn't mean to imply Gajeel has no friends. But he isn't usually sociable. Juvia is happy for him, finding a friend to be on a team with." Slowly, the frown returned to her face and she again pulled the towel around her. "Juvia couldn't wake up from the nightmare last night. She tried, but… It was as if someone was holding her down, making her stay in the dream…"

A wave of dizziness hit Gajeel as he recalled the twisting sensation his own nightmare had, how every time he figured out something wasn't right the dream would warp further. "Makin' ya stay in there, huh..."

She nodded. "Juvia dreamt of the day Phantom Lord invaded Magnolia. She was on top of the guild hall with Gray, like the first time Juvia met him, but Lucy and Cana were there this time, too. But Juvia- she-" The rain outside started falling even harder, the static sound of it on the roof turned into a muted roaring. "They fell. Juvia- Juvia pushed them. She was happy about it in her dream. But awake, Juvia knows this wasn't real, knows it wasn't how that happened and-"

"You didn't push them, Juv," Gajeel cut her off before she spiraled too deep. "Look at me. You didn't push them. They're okay. They're probably at the guild with Cobra and the rest."

Again she sniffled, wiping her nose with the towel. "It's true that Juvia hasn't checked in at the guild today," she said with a small voice, accepting what Gajeel said.

"Besides, these're just stupid dreams." A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. "They'll stop one way or another, even if we gotta go crack someone's skull to stop 'em."

"What did Gajeel dream of?" When he fixed her with a sour scowl, she aimed a dreary, pointed frown right back at him. "Juvia said hers, now it's Gajeel's turn. That's fair."

Ignoring the heat rising to his face, he stubbornly turned his head away so that he didn't have to look at her while he described his own nightmare. "I got stuck in the Phantom Lord guild hall, okay? I got stuck in there and I couldn't get out, and all the air got sucked outta the room or some shit. All the windows and doors were gone. There were no exits, I was suffocating ta death." He grit his fangs inside his mouth, then out a single, heaving sigh. "It feels stupid sayin' what it was about out loud. I mean, if Cobra wasn't th-" Gajeel caught himself right on that word, his tongue still pressed to his teeth. He took another deep breath. "I-I mean, if he didn't come wake me up, 'cause I woke him up, then I dunno if the nightmare would've gotten worse."

Thankfully Juvia didn't cling to his slip-up. "Suffocating usually results in death, does it not...?"

Gajeel's shoulders laxed at his secret relationship save. "That's really what you took away from that story?"

She smiled, a little mended expression, before quietly asking: "What does Gajeel think it is? That's causing the dreams."

"I dunno." He melted back into the chair, sinking low and staring at the ceiling. "We both thought Phantom Lord was behind us, it makes sense that we wouldn't take news of it comin' back too well. So, I guess I thought it was just a shitty dream until you showed up."

"Juvia wonders if any of the others have had them, or if it's just us."

"Others…?"

"Well," she started, "If Gajeel is right, and he and Juvia are the only ones having the dreams, it makes sense. But if others in Fairy Tail, or other members of the Element Four, really were having them, then Cobra would be right."

"Element Four?" Gajeel blinked at her. "Yer the only one I still talk to, Juv. I have no friggin' idea what happened to the rest of the clowns from that circus."

"Oh! Juvia has Totomaru's lacriphone frequency number. We could try calling him! Where does Gajeel keep his...?" She turned, glancing around the living room for a crystal lacrima ball comm installation.

"I ain't got a lacriphone hookup in my house," Gajeel snorted indignantly. "I don't want someone calling me. If somebody wants my attention, they'd better come get it the old fashioned way."


If someone had told him that the day would start with one of the worst nightmares in his life and then progress to standing in a public lacriphone booth - in the rain - to talk about said nightmare with one of his ex-coworkers, Gajeel would've have punched them square in the face twice. Once for fun, then for implying he'd willingly talk about his feelings to anybody ever. (Well… anyone but his mate.) But there he was, cramped in the small wooden booth that held a round, crystal clear lacrima orb on a bolted pedestal.

Juvia placed her fingers on the orb and adjusted the frequency of the outbound call they wanted to make.

"Yo," the image of the young man with half-black and half-white hair appeared in the clear ball. "Oh, Juvia!" Totomaru brightened, then immediately looked puzzled. "… And Gajeel, too…?"

"Hello, Totomaru," Juvia greeted with a smile. "It has been a while..."

The iron dragon knew the fire mage had always been a little sweet on Juvia, and, dealing with a string of bad breakups, she'd been absolutely oblivious. He used to think it was kind of pathetic - chasing after someone, trying to get that someone to notice you in a certain way. Now Gajeel understood that feeling. Gajeel still felt a little sorry for Totomaru - just not in the same way he used to. (He had been successful wooing someone, after all…)

Even as Juvia explained the reasoning for their call, it was obvious the old flame was still burning bright at one end.

"Well, yeah I had a weird nightmare last night, but I just thought it was because I went out drinking with my coworkers," Totomaru waved his hand dismissively, "Weekend and all that."

"Coworkers?"

"I'm up in Era these days. Scored a job at a primary magic academy teaching a class on basic fire spells." He scratched his right temple, smiling sheepishly. "Kinda hard to get into a new guild with a Guild War on your record. Luckily, there's always a big need for elemental magic teachers…" His dark brows lowered and his head tilted slightly to the side. "But you're asking about nightmares as if you had them on the same night."

Gajeel snorted. "Ya mean you haven't heard yet?"

"Heard what, exactly?"

"Somebody's getting the old band back together. 'Cept they're not inviting us headliners."

Totomaru's expression hardened with worry. "Phantom Lord's back?" When both Gajeel and Juvia nodded, he shook his head, exhaling a breath that blew his bangs away from his face. "Shit."

"We wanted to know if it was just Juvia n' me they were going after, since we joined up with Fairy Tail," Gajeel said. "Juvia said yer the only other former Element Four she talks to, so we figured we'd ask ya."

"Oh, really?" Totomaru's face was practically glowing at that. "Well, I've got job security now. I wouldn't join back up with whoever thinks they're Fiore's next Jose Porla."

"What about the others, Totomaru," Juvia asked, "Have you heard anything about them?"

"Not much," Totomaru shook his head again, his dual-colored bangs bouncing from the motion. "Last I heard, Sol shipped back to his home country. His work visa was only for Phantom Lord and he couldn't register with a new guild in time to renew it. I don't think he's too upset, though. You guys know he's always hated the food here."

"And the weather," Juvia mumbled sheepishly.

"And the music, and all the trains, and his list goes on."

"And you two are over in Fairyland." Totomaru said it with amusement, obviously not taking issue with their choice. "I finished my teaching degree just before the Guild War, so I've tapped out of guild flunkie life. I think the only one of us that I haven't heard anything about is Aria." The fire mage's mouth slanted to the side in thought, his finger pointing through the image at Gajeel. "And that kid. The one with the bad buzz cut. The one that used to follow you around all the time at our main base. What was his name- Ryan or something...?"

A wave of dizziness washed over Gajeel at the mention of the child. He knew exactly who Totomaru was talking about. He hadn't seen or thought of the gloomy kid that followed him around the streets of Oak Town like some kind of puppy since before Phantom Lord's aggression against Fairy Tail had escalated out into the open.

Ya i buul logiagem, cha ti, he remembered the little kid with the big red eyes saying to him - in perfect Draconic. It was the first thing the kid ever said to him: I am Dragonkin, like you. But that had been years ago.

The kid had been young when he first started hanging around Phantom Lord. Real young. He was seven years old when they'd first met, Gajeel remembered that. (Seven years seemed to be a weird theme a lot of the Dragonslayers had with their pasts… at least the First Generation, anyways. It was a pattern Gajeel was becoming more and more aware of, though what it meant he had no clue.) And what age the kid would be now, well… Gajeel couldn't guess. Maybe ten? A little older? Maybe Wendy's age, he eventually decided. That seemed right. He'd met the kid five years ago.

Ya i buul logiagem, chat ti. Even if the kid did speak flawless Emelogian, Gajeel hadn't paid the kid any mind. If he was a baby Dragonslayer, the kid had come to the wrong person for help. Gajeel had been an outright wild thing at fifteen years old, still adjusting to being around most people after Jose had recruited him off the lawless streets of Denish. He didn't have the time or patience to babysit some hatchling who'd barely manifested his element and fled for the shadows every time he got spooked instead of fighting like a real dragon.

Ya i buul logiagem, chat ti. Even as big of a prick as Gajeel had been to the kid, the kid still followed him around adoringly, and eventually the kid started saying something more terrifying... Ya i ti nagurru, Gajeel.

"Ryos," Gajeel said absently. He leaned against the back of the booth for balance, trying to fight off the guilty vertigo that had overtaken him. "The kid's name was Ryos Cheney."

"Yeah, that's the one."


It wasn't exactly a lie when he said he needed to get some air.

Gajeel closed the door to the lacriphone booth behind him and leaned his weight against the side as Juvia and Totomaru finished catching up. Pressing his skull back against the booth, he shut his eyes and let the drizzling rain fall and dampen his hair and clothes further.

Phantom Lord coming back was not something he had ever expected to deal with. But, Gajeel figured, if anyone should have to clean up the mess, it should be him. Phantom Lord rose to power because of him; because Jose had pushed him to the top. It was only right that Gajeel be the one to bury those ghosts for good.

A buzzing hotness made itself known in the back of his mind; his mate's anger briefly flaring, notably annoyed at something. A smile cracked across Gajeel's tired features. His mate was probably ticked off at Salamander, if he had to guess.

This mess with Phantom Lord wasn't affecting only him, he reminded himself. I'm not alone at the top anymore. He had Cobra. He had Juvia, maybe Totomaru on his side, too. This was an attack on Fairy Tail, and the rest of his new guild wouldn't exactly take this shit lying down once that news broke.

The sound of small, scuffling feet on wet gravel made him crack one eye open.

He wished he hadn't.

Big red eyes stared up at him from behind inky black bangs and the wet hood of a night black hoodie.

"Hello, big brother."

Notes:

What smol!Rogue said:
Ya i buul logiagem, chat ti = I am a dragon's child, same as you
Ya i ti nagurru, Gajeel = I am your younger brother, Gajeel

Do I have a whole dictionary of dragon language made up for this? Why, yes, I do.

Chapter 26: In Your Shadow

Notes:

Hey all, it's been a bit! I've been busy with some real life things; I moved to a new place and that took up a lot of my time and energy for a while. ^.^' Things are getting a little more settled now, so hopefully I should be able to update again soon.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“... Juvenile shadow dragons may have difficulty melding with shadows and may mistakenly pop in and out of tangible form until they physically mature.” ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 150

Chapter Twenty-six: In Your Shadow

Ryos sat across from him at the kitchen table. Gajeel figured it was only right to get him out of the rain before they said much else to each other; it was the least he could do for the younger dragon.

Still a little on the petite side, Ryos wore comfortable-looking gray cargo shorts and a black hoodie; the clothes he wore were well-fitted to him, obviously hand-made from the cut. No longer rocking a too-close buzz cut, his inky hair was growing back and stuck up in several places unevenly.

The fact that Ryos’s hair was growing back and wasn’t matted, coupled with the decent clothes, told Gajeel somebody out there was taking care of the kid. That, at least, took some pressure off the sudden, growing guilt that he now found himself saddled with.

Though he was otherwise dressed, Ryos was barefoot - his feet and calves covered in mud and sore-looking scrapes as if he had run a long distance just to be there. Whether it was on purpose or not, the fact that the kid had no shoes did not go unnoticed; neither did the fact that Ryos’s hands never left the pocket of his dark hoodie, which bulged as if he were cradling a large potato... A large, wiggly potato that the kid had to fiddle with every few seconds.

“What’re you doing here, Ryos?” Gajeel finally asked him, causing Ryos to jump in his chair. Deciding that came off a little too accusatory, he followed it up with: “It’s been six months , Ryos. Where’ve you been?”

Ryos, realizing that Gajeel was in fact speaking to him directly, practically retreated into the safety of his hoodie as he curled into himself, averting his eyes. “… Shirotsume.

Shirotsume. Why's that sound familiar...? Gajeel wracked his brain for why that tiny burg meant anything; the name had come up after something important, he was sure of that.

Gajeel folded his arms loosely across his chest. “Shirotsume’s a little far from Oak Town, isn’t it?”

Magnolia’s a little far from Oak Town,” Ryos muttered, almost inaudibly, pressing himself rigidly against the back of the chair.

That bitter mumbling didn’t escape Gajeel and he eyed the whelp. “Yeah. That’s kinda the point, kid.”

“I had nowhere else to go after you- you left,” the shadow dragon spat. Ryos turned his head away, deliberately avoiding looking at Gajeel. His upper lip twitched, but he did not bare his fangs or growl, like Gajeel did so often at that age; to his credit, after his little assertion, he didn’t hiss and flee for the shadows. He fiddled with whatever creature he had tucked away in his pocket, petting it seemed to settle him. “I tried following you, but I got lost.”

“‘Lost’? It’s been six months and I haven’t seen a hair on yer head!”

Little red eyes looked up at him, damp at the corners. “Six months you didn’t even notice I was gone...”

A growl edged its way out of Gajeel’s throat. Who did this little shit think he was, coming outta nowhere to murder him with all this guilt?! It wasn’t as if he had meant to forget a whole-ass child!

A fuckton of stuff had happened to Gajeel in those six months! The Guild War, slipping up in a fight with another dragon and losing said Guild War, getting kicked out of Oak Town, changing guilds, that Fantasia shitfest where Laxus had gone on a rampage and nearly killed him, fighting with Cobra, sleeping with Cobra, getting stomped on by a giant mech in another dimension, performing his first Unison Raid, Cobra and him becoming mates... (Actually, now that Gajeel thought on it, he’d spent a good amount of time getting his ass kicked lately. That and getting laid. Yet, until this Phantom Lord II nonsense reared its stupid head, he’d never been more content. Hell, sometimes he even looked forward to waking up in the morning. If there was some kind of cosmic-bullshit life lesson woven into the madness that had been the past half-year, he was in no mood to decipher whatever meaning it had.)

Somehow - somehow! - he’d been slowly piecing together his life; trying to forge a new, better life. A life he now was slowly starting to share with others. It was the kinda life he deserved from the start, dammit! But... that would be harder now, with all these old guilds and sibling negligence coming back to haunt him.

Inhaling and exhaling sharply, Gajeel scratched idly at his cheek, his mouth pulling into a sideways frown. It was his turn to look away. “I’m sorry.”

Ryos perked up, skittishly unsure whether he had heard Gajeel right.

The iron dragon still held some reservations about whether or not the shadow dragon was telling the truth; that they were kin - brothers, at that. Ryos barely looked or acted half as wild as Gajeel did when he was a whelp, but the same red eyes, maybe a shade darker than his own, stared back at him like freshly-cut garnets.

“I’m sorry, a lotta stuff’s been happenin’. But that’s no excuse.” He ran his hand down his face. “You’re still just a kid. I shoulda been lookin’ out fer you.”

His apologetic admission was met with bewilderment -the young shadow dragon looked at the iron dragon as if he’d grown three heads and called himself a hydra.

What.” Gajeel sneered before finally deciphering the meaning of that look. "I ain't goin' soft!" He bristled, before snorting through his nose and settling back into his seat, his arms folded stubbornly across his chest. "I'm getting older, it's called growing up . Now are you gonna take the damn apology or not?"

Ryos’s eyes flicked downwards as he again coaxed the restless creature in his pocket. “Ya wu’f kipai.” Though it was said with a small glimmer of a smile, it was anything but a happy answer. “I-I didn’t come here looking for an apology. It’s true that I came looking for you, nagurru. But… until I heard you say my name from the shadows, I didn’t know where in Magnolia you lived.” Ryos frowned softly and his shoulders tensed. “I came here because I need your help.”

Finally, the shadow dragon revealed what was in his hoodie pocket: a green kitten, with big dark eyes. Not just any kitten - this creature had stubby wings and an intelligent glint to its eye. There was no mistaking it: it was a freshly-hatched Exceed .

“There’s an Exceed colony outside of Shirotsume. That’s where I’ve been staying…”

The Exceed that had immigrated from Edolas: that was why Shirotsume had sounded so familiar! Gajeel had more pressing matters crystalizing in his arms after their return to Earthland, but, once his mate had been tended to and Gajeel’s house gained another occupant, he recalled briefly overhearing that the winged cats had set up near Shirotsume... There was something about the winds around the mountains being just right for their wings and the giant-ass trees outside of town making good nests, or whatever.

“That so?” Gajeel leaned over the table to peek at the kitten further. So the cats were taking care of the kid all this time. It was a strange relief, until he remembered that, unlike the other First Gen Dragonslayers he knew, he, himself, did not have a cat - and here was his supposed baby brother with a magic feline fresh out of the egg! “Why’d you just have this thing shoved in your pocket like that?!” Gajeel blurted, his eyes wide.

Ryos only blinked at him, the older dragon’s outburst catching him off guard. “Uh, I-I mean… Exceed are tougher than they look.” He placed the small, squishy green jellybean of a feline on the table. “This is Frosch. They’re still teething, if they didn’t like being picked up or put in my pocket, they’d probably bite me.”

The world’s tiniest kitty-yawn was enough to keep Gajeel enthralled with the kitten for a few seconds longer. When Ryos’s original reason for finding him finally sunk through, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Wait. You said that you came looking for me, what do the Exceed got to do with that? Did something happen to the colony?”

The shadow dragon once again broke eye contact, his fingers stroking the grain of the table as he attempted to prevent his own claws surfacing. “A dark guild attacked the colony. It was night time and I was asleep and- and they kicked in the door to my room. I didn’t- I only had enough time to grab Frosch and leave...” He blinked back tears. “They captured all the Exceed and took them someplace. I couldn’t stop them, I- … there were too many.”

Gajeel’s eyes flicked to the cuts and scrapes on Ryos’s bare feet. “Ryos. Did you run all the way here from Shirotsume?”

Ryos nodded, and his mouth screwed into a scared, miserable little line.

“Why come ta me about this, though?”

Ryos shook his head; the small gesture made it clear that he had no one else that he felt safe turning to.

Right. That was one thing Gajeel understood: being a young Dragonslayer with no home, no family… he’d barely had anyone he trusted when he was Ryos’s age. Hell, he still could count the people he fully trusted on one hand. If Ryos had tried to follow Gajeel, then it was given the kid was probably watching when the Magic Council threw Gajeel out of Oak Town - he couldn’t blame the kid for not trusting them , either.

"Ryos, didja see what their guild mark looked like...?"


Walking home, Cobra knew it was going to be a long night even before he could pick out the strum of guitar in the distance.

It wasn’t that Gajeel was bad at playing instruments - in fact, he was more than decent on drums - but his favorite instrument was by far the guitar and his element had a certain effect on the instrument. Even if he didn’t have formal musical instruction, the iron dragon knew his notes and arpeggios, but all musicians poured themselves into songs - especially those with magical abilities - and between the metal strings and his magic being metal-based, whatever chord he struck on guitar sounded… well, metallic . Scratchy, even, if he didn't finger a change right. It was an effect that didn't go well with most songs, but the song tonight - in the key of E - fit it well.

He could hear that his boyfriend wanted a beer, maybe a whole keg of beer to stave off the whirl that had been that day, however the need to remain alert and unfortunately sober was the reason that Gajeel was frustratedly fiddling with his guitar. Likewise, their bond hummed with the iron dragon’s annoyance and a dull sense of warning.

Cobra only paused momentarily before opening the front door. His ears told him that they had a guest upstairs; the guitar and Gajeel's inner unease had almost drowned the child out. If Cobra had to guess - and he really didn't have to - it was the mystery boy that had insulted him in the guild library.

"I got your message,” Cobra said, placing the shoulder bag he had been carrying down on the kitchen table. The boxy shapes within rested on the flat surface as he reached inside and withdrew a book with a violet color and gold lettering. He silently strode into the living room, where he found Gajeel right where he knew he'd be on the couch. “I’m going to assume it’s related to the twelve year old and tiny cat in the bathtub upstairs?”

"My brother ," Gajeel gruffly explained, pausing his song. His shoulders bunched and his jaw tightened, the familial word a little clunky in his mouth. “He knows. About… us. Sniffed it out not even ten minutes after I invited the little shit in. But he knows to keep his mouth shut about it.”

Well that answered one question, though prompted many more. Though, from a distance, Cobra could see how the two could be related; the first thing either brother had done was insult him, after all. It also put the tone the kid had used into perspective: he probably wasn’t expecting to find out his brother had a mate - not that Cobra could fault the kid for that, exactly...

The redhead considered his wording, cocking his head to the side slightly. "Which one, the kid or the cat?"

Gajeel blinked at his mate’s sudden humor, a crack of a smile coming to him a second after. His grip on the guitar became a little less white-knuckled. "His name’s Ryos n’ the cat is Frosch. Honestly I'm thinkin’ 'bout trading him in for the cat," he joked. "You find out anything at the guild?"

"Only that I was right. It wasn't just you and Juvia that were having trouble," Cobra said with a small nod. "It's a memory spell called Mind Shade, it’s supposed to trap your consciousness in an altered memory. Everyone being targeted has participated in the Guild War."

“That’s a long-ass list of people,” Gajeel grunted in acknowledgement. He plucked at the D string on his guitar in thought. “If it was just Jose, I think he would’ve killed me by now.”

Cobra thought back to the few times Gajeel had mentioned his former Master, and what he could hear from the few Fairies who had fought the man. The former Phantom Lord Guildmaster was very two-faced, from what Cobra could gather.

He was very rehearsed for the cameras and for interviews, but rumors of his temper ruined real attempts at good PR. While he was a powerful mage, Jose Porla was a Wizard Saint through mud-slinging, shady politics alone - barely scraping into the bottom rung as the least-powerful Saint, before he’d had that title stripped from him after the Fairy-Phantom War. 

Porla had made a lot of enemies trying to get the title he’d eventually lose, but he couldn’t openly take care of problems in his preferred manner. From what Cobra could guess, that was where Gajeel and the other Element Four had come into play.

Despite what Gajeel liked to say, he did care what other people thought of him and was almost eager to please if it meant being acknowledged or praised - especially if it was over someone else. But that kind of pressure, to keep your hands messy and to constantly fight, could wear someone down until they were nothing but bone and muscle and tension - ready to be wound up and set off on the next unsuspecting victim.

Even Brain wasn’t stupid like that.

Brain, the literally two-faced jackass, was far more a scientist and less of a politician. Data and results-driven. He kept Oracion Seis efficient. Sure, there was the expectation to never lose or majorly fuck up, that was part of the “efficiency”. But he knew that to avoid malfunction, a machine shouldn’t be running 24/7; a machine needed fuel and maintenance. Because if something broke he’d have to toss out the whole thing and start over. And that would have been just so fucking inconvenient for the old bastard-

Cobra shook his head, bringing himself back to focus on the topic at hand.

This… isn’t about me.

“The old man is checking with Blackgate Prison, just to make sure that Jose Porla hasn’t gotten out and Fairy Tail wasn’t told about it.” He sat down next to Gajeel on the couch, placing the book he’d taken on the cushion on the opposite side. “The Council doesn’t always share what they need to when they need to, so he’s gone to oversee the cell check in person. Titania’s in charge until he gets back.”

“Bah. If we get more answers, then I guess I can stand her barking orders for five minutes,” the iron dragon huffed. "That cold iron bein’ on the same train as me, the shitty dream, attacking the kid. I think," he exposed his fangs, gripping the guitar's neck as it creaked, "That somebody's trying to get my attention, even if it ain’t Jose." He exhaled sharply out of his nose. "And it's seriously pissing me off."

“You’re right,” Cobra agreed, leaning back and crossing his leg over his other knee. His ears perked under his hood as red eyes flicked to look at him, listening as his partner’s mind recalled what had happened to the cats and the shadow dragon. “The colony at Shirotsume definitely seems like a trap someone set for you.”

“No shit.” Gajeel cracked his jaw, relieving both his physical tension as well as the tightness on his end of their bond. Finally he set down his guitar, resting it on the floor against the arm of the couch. “But it’s the best lead we’ve got.”

"Just be careful," Cobra sighed in resignation. His features then immediately turned more smug. "I won't be there to hold your hand if you have another nightmare this time."

Gajeel pulled him close and clicked his fangs at his mate, grinning slyly. "That won't be the only reason I'll miss havin' ya next to me."

“Lodahi,” a small voice hissed. Both the older dragons looked to see a small, damp shape in dirty cargo shorts at the top of the stairs. Ryos visibly gagged at their display.

“Yeah, yeah, make a face all you want,” Gajeel waved dismissively at Ryos. “Wait ‘til you grow up and get a mate.”

The little shadow dragon shook his head rapidly, water droplets spraying from his short, messy locks. “Not going to happen. Not ever!

“Hm,” Cobra hummed, feigning a troublesome tone. “You know... On second thought, I think I might come with you two.”

Gajeel caught on to his game quickly. “Yeah? We’ll go on a little flight hunt, all us together?”

“Ugh. Stop it!

Notes:

The song/notes that I imagined Gajeel angstplaying were the opening notes to Wrong Side of Heaven by 5FDP.

-Emelogian/Dragon Translations-
Nagurru = brother
Ya wu’f kipai = I don't know (apologetic)
Lodahi = showing affection (derogatory)

Chapter 27: Deadfall

Notes:

Hey, everybody! I've been working on this chapter for a while now. It's one of the longest chapters so far! This is likely to be the last bit of "fluff" for a little while. Enjoy!

Chapter Text

"Though rare, pre-adolescent juvenile dragons can lay claim to territory in the absence of related adult individuals. However these young dragons may run the risk of being pushed out by competing species or older dragons." ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 102

Chapter Twenty-seven: Deadfall

Gajeel's studded brows knit. "Whaddya mean the Master's not back yet?"

Before Team Gajeel and their tiny tagalongs set off for Shirotsume, Gajeel had wanted to stop by the lacriphone past the paved end of their road to leave Master Makarov a message.

Not to call for backup - he was sure-as-hell-certain that they could handle some rogue Phantoms. After all, Gajeel could have beaten all of those chumps to a pulp back when they were in the same guild. With his eyes closed. And with one hand behind his back, too!

No, there was something else that nagged him to call. Something he couldn't put his finger on. A walking-on-glass feeling. He was able to put more form to the unease he felt when Cobra commented that them leaving town with the Phantom Lord activity going on would have been suspicious. Gajeel definitely didn't want any more fingers pointed at him… at least, more than there usually were.

Mirajane shook her head. "Blackgate Prison is all the way in Crocus, so he had to take an overnight train. He's overseeing Mr. Porla's cell inspection today."

Gajeel snorted. Of all the times for the Elder Fairy to not be parked in his usual drinking spot at the bar! "Look, just leave a note for him or somethin'."

"What's in Shirotsume?" Mirajane asked, a placid smile on her face and her eyes gleaming sharply. It felt more like a polite demand.

"A lead on the Phantom Lord revival." He scratched at the metal studs on his chin. "And a family situation." It wasn't an outright lie, but it still felt weird to say. "Whoever's running Phantom now went after my kid brother." He only took a little satisfaction in the way Mirajane's too-thin eyebrows shot up at that, the sharpness dropping from her eyes. "I can't let that slide."

Mirajane gave a small nod in solidarity. "I'll let him know when he checks in later today," the usual, nosy lilt to her voice was gone, replaced by something more wise and understanding. The tone lasted only a second before it returned, a finger pressing troublesomely against her lips: "Oh! I was going through the guild's files recently, and I noticed that you and your teammate share the same address."

He eyed her. "Yeah…? We're roommates."

"Mhm," she hummed in obviously fake consideration. A dangerous sound. Every hair on the back of Gajeel's neck stood up as an angry blush splotched across his cheeks. "Roommates."

"Can I fucking help you with somethin'? Lot'sa people're roommates!"

"This is true. But, unlike lots of people, I grew up with two Dragonslayers in the same guild," she said with a sunny smile. Her eyes seemingly pierced beyond the lacriphone image. "Dragons don't usually like to share such close space for long, and since there's two of you under the same roof, I was wonderi-"

The call was ended when the glowing lacrima ball burst into shards after meeting Gajeel's iron fist. He shook the scales on his hand free of splinters before letting them sink back under his skin.

Probably not the best move with the guild's top gossip hound asking dangerous questions, but, in his own defense, he'd never had to deal with that kind of bullshit before!


Ryos was more bright-eyed after getting cleaned up, fed, and spending a safe night sleeping on their couch. Now the little shadow dragon was more keen to make himself known in the older dragons' space; much like in the quiet, unwelcoming way a ghost would haunt new residents of its home.

And though the shadow dragon could not be seen, the poison dragon heard and felt little eyes watching him from behind.

One of his pointed ears slid back under his white hood, silently tracking the kid's movements while he sat on the couch, half-paying attention to the open copy of Dragon Historia in his hands.

Cobra couldn't fault the kid for being wary after what he'd been through, but was a little less hostility too much to ask for? It was like living with a jealous little poltergeist; a ghost that was seriously peeved that Cobra was intimate with its brother… Which was not a sequence of words Cobra ever thought he'd have to put together in the same sentence.

He heard a pale hand creeping, reaching for the back of his hood, and sharply said: "Don't even think about it, Ryos."

Oh, he heard that Ryos was not the child's true name. But "Ryos" was what he wanted to be called, and Cobra was the absolute last person to judge someone for not wanting to be called a name they were born with. Even if that someone was a judgy little shadow person that was testing him and thinking very unkind thoughts in his direction.

Ryos, shocked that he had been caught, stilled as his form popped out of the shadows, tensing, before sinking back into the darkness, shamed and panicked thoughts racing through his little head.

"Why do you wear that," asked a warped little voice that came from the shadow of the coffee table.

"It's a secret," Cobra said, completely unphased, still looking at the book in his lap.

"It looks dumb."

Nonplussed, Cobra continued reading. "Yeah. It's inconvenient, too."

There was a small pause, before Ryos started up again, this time as a black mass peeking out from the shade of the curtains. "Then why do you wear it?"

"A secret's not much of a secret if everyone knows about it."

"Why is it a secret, though?"

Cobra lightly tugged on the hem of his white hood for emphasis. "Only your brother gets to see what's under here."

It was not the best answer to give a writhing little shadow dragon. Ryos actually growled - a high and nasally sound - before the sound of mewing caught his attention, making him pull out of the shadows and sit on a nearby chair. He gingerly pulled Frosch from his pocket, stroking the Exceed kitten reassuringly.

"Sorry," Ryos quietly apologized to the fuzzy green jellybean with stubby wings. "I know you don't like being in the shadows for too long."

They sat in silence - Cobra continuing his research, Ryos petting Frosch - until a distant smash sounded in Cobra's hearing range. His ears slid back, knowing exactly what that sound was.

There's literally an 'end call' button, you idiot! He rubbed his temples. His boyfriend couldn't hear him, of course, but that didn't stop him from wishing that he could beam his thoughts directly into the skull of the other man. Now she's going to be even more suspicious...

"You're why he's different," Ryos accused, breaking the silence. Cobra looked up from his book to see Ryos immediately avoid his gaze and instead play with the tiny paws of his cat friend.

To the shadow dragon, his brother's behavior was weird. And the kid wasn't sure yet if it was good weird or bad weird. It was definitely different. Alien. He'd never seen Gajeel acting so nice for so long, from what Cobra could hear.

Cobra let out a quiet breath. He closed the Dragon Historia in his lap. "I can't take any credit for that. He was working hard on that before we met."

"Why…?"

It was no secret to him that Gajeel wasn't satisfied with his life or himself while he was in Phantom Lord. Retroactively, Gajeel only bragged about formerly being S-classed - a testament of his strength - rather than being proud of being a Phantom. He didn't feel there was much to take pride in after the outcome of the Guild War and the iron dragon's faith in his former Guildmaster had dropped through the floor. That was the part Cobra understood all too well...

"You should ask him that," Cobra told Ryos. "He could give you the answer you're clearly looking for."


Being a hub for the northern train lines, there was no shortage of trains headed to Shirotsume. The express train from Magnolia to Shirotsume would take two hours. No transfers, no overnight trains through the mountains, no early-morning trains to catch while still groggy with sleep.

The young shadow dragon and his hidden Exceed sat across from Cobra, choosing his seat next to Gajeel, and now wore a slightly-too-big pair of tan sneakers that Cobra had "borrowed" from the guild's lost and found the night before. Neither of the older dragons had expected to need to find shoes for a twelve year old boy, and, even if the shoes were the wrong size, they were better than nothing. Plus, the kid wouldn't have been allowed onto the train with bare feet.

His chin resting in his palm, Cobra watched the world outside blur past the window. If he let go of his senses enough, he could distance himself from the sounds around him. A task that would have been easier if not for the two brothers chatting across from him.

The two were speaking - casually arguing at times, at least on Gajeel's half of the conversation - in another language.

Cobra couldn't say he was exactly surprised at his partner's bilingualism, though it did explain some of the unusual emphasis he put on the pronunciation of different words.

Four words kept coming up in their conversation: nagurru, fuul-fahi, logia, and yuuluvu. (It was a decent-length train ride with a chatty pair; Cobra didn't have much else to do than listen and keep count.)

While he could hear a person's inner voice regardless of the language they spoke, if it was a language he was unfamiliar with, it changed the sound and meaning of what he was able to hear. If anything, it was like watching a poorly-dubbed movie that had auto-translated subtitles; he could get a pretty general idea of what was being said, but most things just didn't match up.

From his own research, Cobra was sure "logia" meant "dragon". And from what he could guess of the two brothers' conversations, "nagurru" was something like "brother". The other words he had no clue of their meaning, other than they were spoken in a way that felt obviously directed at him.

Cobra rolled his eyes. Neither one of them is very subtle…

He didn't need his ears to know that the kid was trying to drag the conversation into another language on purpose - but being pointedly snubbed in another tongue beat being glared at from the shadows. Besides, Gajeel seemed almost happy to be speaking with someone else who knew the dragon language; someone other than Natsu, who would only use it when too excited or to hurl the rare insult, and Wendy, who didn't remember much of her mother tongue. Cobra could let it slide.

"What's wrong?" Ryos suddenly asked, reverting back to Fioran in his surprise.

"I'm okay," Gajeel dismissed. "I haven't been gettin' a lot of sleep lately."

Cobra frowned. That was something he wouldn't let slide. He tore his attention away from the window to glance over to his partner, who was trying to play off how nauseous he was - and had been since they'd left the Magnolia Station. The iron dragon caught his eye and sent a firm pulse through their bond, as if repeating the same thing to the poison dragon: I'm fine.

"As long as you're not coming down with what Salamander has," Cobra commented, giving the raven-haired man across from him a look that told him that he didn't buy that excuse, "Or else you won't be able to go anywhere ever again."

Gajeel's face scrunched as if he had tasted something sour. "Tch. Now you're just tryna make me vomit..."


The train pulled into Shirotsume Station and the three dragons stepped off the train and into a flurry of foot traffic - much more than there usually was.

Ryos stayed several steps ahead, every few steps looking back at Gajeel and Cobra, determined to show the older two the way to where his home, his small territory, had been encroached upon and disturbed.

And they followed him, pausing only briefly to exchange annoyed, knowing looks as flashes of white, gold, and dusty lavender hues in the crowds caught both their attentions - the Council's Rune Knights were starting to assemble on the scene.

A decent walk from the edge of the small city and up a steep trail, the Exceed colony was known to locals as Rockrose Village. Trees as wide as train cars towered high above the forest floor below, blanketed by pine needles, kinnikinnick, and - most notably, the village's namesake - alpine rockrose.

"It's right ahead!" Ryos told them eagerly.

"So is the Council's circus," Cobra quietly warned from beside Gajeel.

The Exceed had tucked their village away from unwanted eyes so well that it took Gajeel a moment to pick out the buildings, but when he spotted the first firm structure his eyes picked out the rest. Halfway up the thick trunks were spans of boardwalk streets crossing between trees, camouflaged by trimmed vines and built along natural branchways, hugging the circumference of trees, and dotted by small yurts and wood cabins half-way built into some of the wider trunks.

And it was at the base of the first inhabited trees that a tall chain-link fence spanned the forest floor, snaking around the outskirts of the cat village. Gawking Humans and a small dappling of Demon residents of Shirotsume crowded along the fence, warded back from the only visible gate by three Rune Knights.

Ah. So that's what his mate meant by circus. Gajeel grabbed Ryos's hood, tugging him back before he could get closer to the crowd.

"Looks like someone finally feels like doing their damn jobs," Gajeel observed bitterly.

"So?" Ryos frowned. "That dumb fence can't stop you!"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I ain't exactly plannin' on going ta jail anytime soon, Ryos." Gajeel let out an exasperated sigh. "We'll definitely find clues these chucklefucks'll miss, but we gotta do it carefully."

Cobra looked up at the nearby boardwalk streets, observing the Rune Knights walking above the crowd below. His eyes narrowed in the tiniest way - it usually meant he was listening for something; if Gajeel had known the poison dragon any less, he would have missed that little expression entirely. "They're still in the beginnings of their investigation, so their focus is on this side of the village for now. Probably won't be tomorrow." He motioned to the fences loosely with his right hand. "I don't hear any rune barriers, but the fences sound like they have a perimeter enchantment on them. Likely the kind that sounds an alarm if someone climbs or jumps over it."

"Right." Gajeel looked at the fences. He was a little familiar with that type of perimeter enchantment; such fences couldn't be climbed over, jumped over, dug under, or torn through - an object like a board or blanket had to be draped over them, so that the fence would detect a non-living object instead of the person crossing over said object. "So we wait 'till it's dark and the Knights have gone back to town, then we drop a tree or something."

"That would be a little loud," Cobra side-eyed him. "They'd have an overnight guard that would hear it."

Gajeel stuck his nose up. "It'll be a tiny tree."

"And where exactly are you going to get a 'tiny tree' in a forest of giant ones?"

"There's a rolling bridge," Ryos mentioned, pointing a pale finger to the other side of Rockrose Village. "It's on a cliff on the other side, so people that need to walk can visit. Would... would that work?"

"Yeah. That should do the trick." Gajeel turned to him expectantly. "You know how it works?"

"Yeah. There's a lever on the side closest to the houses."

"Good," he said. "You can get there faster as a shadow than we can on foot. When we come back tonight, go wait for us there. Stay hidden until you see us, got it?"

"B-but-"

"No 'buts', Ryos," Gajeel interrupted. "We know how to deal with the Council if we're caught sneakin' in, but you're still a kid. You don't need that kind of attention at yer age. Trust me on that."

They locked eyes, a battle of wills playing out in the air between them. Finally, Ryos relented, his eyes sinking to the ground. "Fine."


The normal pitch-darkness of night in the woods would have been sufficient enough cover for them; dragons had moderate night vision, though their color perception faded the darker it got. Luckily, the night watchmen at the crime scene lacked such a sense and relied on the sparsely-placed lacrima lamps to illuminate their immediate surroundings.

If they stayed outside of that minimal ring of light, they would be practically undetectable. Hell, with so much plant coverage, they could take their time getting to the other side of the village. There was a darker part of the iron dragon that wanted to stay and toy with such unsuspecting and ill-equipped prey, have a little fun, but a light pull at his tunic and a flat look from a certain Elf brought him back to the hunt already in progress.

Gajeel gave one last glance in the direction the kid went. "Anyone out past these Council assholes?" he asked his mate in a hushed tone.

Following beside the iron dragon with silent steps Cobra only shook his head, confirming what Gajeel had suspected: the colony village was empty. The residents had likely been rounded up and kidnapped as a group. Or… was it catnapped...? They would be held as ransom or collateral… or worse, trafficked and sold off elsewhere.

"Figured as much," he quietly went on. "We're downwind of the village, but even from here I can tell there aren't any strong scents like you'd expect from a lived-in place."

"If Phantom Lord is working with Naked Mummy, they would have loaded them up on a vehicle of some kind and taken them to a secondary location."

"So we're looking for tire tracks. Those're easy to follow, at least." He idly rubbed his nose on his knuckles. Even if the dark mages had managed to cover their tracks, they would still leave a scent trail that reeked of oil and fuel. "We'll stop by the village, let the kid grab some of his stuff. Then we'll see which direction the bandits went."

A short silence passed between them, before Cobra asked: "Are you still sure you want to bring him all that way?" The words carried another meaning, one that Gajeel understood well: they might come across things that a child shouldn't see.

"Somethin' tells me he'd follow us anyways," Gajeel snorted. He crossed his arms and pretended to admire the underside of the boardwalk streets above. "Look. I get this thing with the kid happenin' is… a lot, 'specially on top of this Phantom bullshit. It's a lot for me, too. But… thanks. For not makin' a big stink out of it."

"I don't mind kids," Cobra told him. His eyes flicked up to look at Gajeel. "Though it seems your brother minds me a lot."

"Is anybody a fan of anything when they're twelve," Gajeel grunted. "But, yeah, I've gotten that feeling."

Ryos took issue that Cobra wasn't… exactly like them. That any dragon in the redhead was artificial. A result, Gajeel was sure, of his jackassed teenaged self bragging how to be a real dragon to the skittish whelp that looked up to him as a brother.

Gajeel sighed. "I admit it: I kinda fucked up with how I treated him. That's on me, not you. Things're just... different these days. There's other dragons around now, and one of 'em's my mate. He's just gonna have to suck it up."

"Hm," Cobra let out a short hum in thought. "That's a very mature stance for you to take."

Gajeel huffed: "Hey! I can be all mature n' shit if I wanna! Why is everybody so surprised by that?"

It was Cobra's turn to let out a sigh. "I meant that other people wouldn't own up to it so easily, or do what you're doing. Especially for someone you're not entirely sure is actually related to you."

The iron dragon eyed his mate skeptically. "So you're sayin' I'm turning into a big sap, is that it?"

Cobra rolled his eyes, lightly shaking his head. "I'm saying... that I'm weirdly proud of you, you idiot."

Heat flashed through Gajeel's body at the compliment as he tried to stifle the pink dusting his sharp features. "Y-ya can't just go saying something like that!"

"I have to say, though, you not being a dick to children anymore is a welcomed plus," his mate said, flashing a smug little smirk.

"If you're not careful, you're gonna find out how much 'dick' I can give to you later," Gajeel clicked his fangs in Cobra's direction, grinning. Before he got too distracted, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. "First we gotta get into the village, grab the kid's stuff, and find those tire tracks. What kinda place would these dark mages be holed up in, if trafficking's their game? You're the expert on this stuff."

The redhead's mood immediately soured; there was something tense, something gravely serious in the poison dragon's posture. "I'm not an expert," he quietly hissed. "Oracion Seis didn't work with the slave trade, it's… repugnant. There's a hierarchy in the dark, and the slave business is on the very bottom. The only time we even touched it was when we cleared it out from our areas of operation. But it's like a weed that keeps coming ba-" Suddenly, he froze in his tracks, mid-step, mouth half-way open, his expression hardening with horror. "We need to get to the bridge. Now."

Gajeel didn't need to wait for further instruction before taking off full-sprint, rounding the outside of the Council's fence perimeter. It was a warning of an attack if there ever was one; and he'd been so stupid to think waiting at the bridge was safer for Ryos than sneaking around the long way with them! "I thought you said there wasn't anyone else out here!" he barked back at Cobra.

"I didn't hear any thoughts coming from over this way!" Cobra sounded… almost worried. That wasn't good. At all. "Whoever, whatever it is, I can't hear their inner voice - I only heard them when they moved!"

Their path lead to a dirt road that crawled up an incline, towards the top of the cliff where two wooden poles stood fixed as markers of a roll-out bridge that still sat coiled on the opposite bank.

Ryos's feet kicked in the air, pitch black little claws straining and digging into the flesh of a hand that held his pale throat in a vice grip. A hand that was attached to a man in a long black cloak, who dangled him over the cliff's edge as if he weighed nothing.

Gajeel didn't get anything scent-wise from the man; he only caught whiffs of his own scent, likely due to the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The figure in the long black cloak, half-gloved hand not lessening his grasp on Ryos's neck, turned around and gave the two dragons a lop-sided fanged grin through a long, wild mop of raven black hair.

A deep, animalistic, warning growl erupted out of Gajeel's throat at the sight of the other man.

There stood himself.

Chapter 28: A Fetch Quest

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"A trait shared by few other dragon types, poison dragons were the first dragons to be observed surviving in almost anaerobic conditions, albeit temporarily, as long as another gas is present in the environment… during which poison dragons enter a state of torpor. The longest noted survival period without oxygen was seven days." ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 131

Chapter Twenty-eight: A Fetch Quest

"I-I'm sorry," Ryos choked out. "I thought he was you!"

The man that held Ryos was the mirror image of Gajeel. The only difference in their appearance was the aggressor's outfit: a ratty black cloak with the collar of a dark gray boilersuit peeking out underneath, the pants of which were tucked into worn, stud-less leather boots.

Gajeel bore his fangs at his double, iron scales spreading across his skin in a flash. Cobra shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, prepared to move the second the thought-less copy's attention on him waned

If this was someone using a transfigure spell, they paid enough attention to detail to nail down Gajeel's scent - close enough to fool a Dragonslayer - and that wasn't a detail that most knew to pay attention to. But Cobra couldn't hear anything from the man, so that ruled out transfiguration.

And an illusion was out of the question. Illusions would smell faintly of their caster, and they couldn't physically touch anything - let alone dangle a kid by the throat over a cliff's edge.

"Now let's be careful," the Other Gajeel warned, lifting Ryos slightly higher. His eyes went back and forth between the two dragons at the bottom of the incline. "None of us're supposed to be here. Gonna be kinda hard to explain how a freshly-dead kid ended up in a closed-off crime scene to the Council, ain't it."

Gajeel growled: "I don't know who the fuck you think you are-"

"I'm your replacement," Other Gajeel interrupted. His red eyes widened and his gaze remained on Gajeel, a toothy sunken grin crawling across his face. Whoever he was - whatever he was - had Gajeel's face and voice, but his facial expressions were entirely different; as if emoting was new to him, his sharp features moved in a way that was emotionless and uncanny. Like a machine. "Thought that was obvious."

At that Cobra's ears perked, though his eyes did not leave the threat before them. A copy that claimed it could replace the original, one that he couldn't hear any inner voice from… it sounded familiar. It was a type of personification magic, he was now sure of it. The list of who - of what - they were dealing with now narrowed, but the exact name eluded him.

A feeling of urgency flared through their bond from Gajeel's end. His thoughts echoed in Cobra's ears: The kid's turning blue!

Cobra had no answer but to try to keep his end more even, doing his best to send back a form of: Wait.

Gajeel exhaled sharply out of his nose, venting his rage and frustration. His muscles tensed, claws and fangs itching to maim, but he held back at his mate's tug of their bond. "You're doin' a shit job of it. Let the kid go."

The Other opened his mouth to reply, his attention focused on the iron dragon alone for a split second, but that small sliver of time was all Cobra needed.

He dashed forward, nimbly stepping in what little space there was between the Other and the cliff's edge, and placed himself behind the arm that held Ryos. Before the man had registered that Cobra had moved at all, he had already dug his fingertips into the nerves and pressure points that would cause the man's muscles to involuntarily release their grip.

"Iron Dragon's Sword!"

The poison dragon withdrew and caught the back of the shadow dragon's shirt, pulling him up into his arms and rolling them both out of the way... right as the iron dragon stabbed his bladed arm through the chest of the impostor.

Expecting to feel the puncture and slice of flesh, Gajeel froze when he felt no warmth from the body he skewered his Iron Dragon's Sword through. There was no blood - no bones - only a thickly-packed soot that reeked of vinegar and burnt hair.

"What the-?!" He yanked and yanked in a desperate bid to escape the horrid smell but the jagged edges of his sword-arm tangled in thin fibers on the inside of his doppleganger.

The Other's eyes went wide, a teetering and empty chuckle rumbling from him. "Nice trick," he commented, his words unimpeded by the giant blade stuck through his chest. His clammy hands gripped the sharp edges of Gajeel's metal limb. "My turn."

White-hot fire shot through Gajeel's veins and he cried out as his strength - his magic - was instantly sapped. Dragged forward by the sudden forced detransformation of his sword-arm back into a meat-arm, for the second time in his life Gajeel found himself at eye level with his own face - this time a dark, mocking mirror, a far cry from the twin he saw in Redhawk. Where his arm was still stuck fast in this copy's chest cavity, his skin itched and burned.

"The kid's not you," the Other breathed, his breath laced with the stench of cremation ash. "Revenant said the kid's fair game."

Gajeel saw a bright flash of red out of the corner of his eye and he grinned weakly. "Didn't bring… just the kid…"

"Poison Dragon's Talon!"

A glowing red sickle sliced through the Other's neck mere inches from the iron dragon's face. In a quick hook-kick strike, Cobra had used the poisonous, ethereal talon now on the end of his foot to finish their foe with one precise hit. No blood oozed from the Other as acrid smoke dribbled from the gash and his body crumpled to dust on the forest floor.

Now without his arm stuck through a torso to balance himself, Gajeel fell forward - and almost over the edge, if not for the arms of his mate catching him around his waist, pulling him back onto solid ground. Gajeel shakily sunk down onto his knees beside the ashen remains of the Other.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep himself awake and alert and talking and totally not passed out from magic-loss shock on the ground. "What… the hell… was that thing…?"

Cobra observed him, his ears shifting underneath his hood. He knelt down and sifted his fingers through the ashes at their feet.

"It's a fetch," Cobra identified. Not finding what he was looking for, he wiped his hands on his pants. "It's a type of personification magic, a clone made of hair, yew branches, and bone ash. They're unstable and can't use magic without first leeching it from the person whose hair they're made from."

"Wh- hair…? How the fuck… did somebody even get close enough t'take some'a my hair…?!"

"You shed," Cobra flatly answered. He stood, folding his arms over his chest. "A lot."

The iron dragon snorted dismissively. After a moment, he asked: "... Is Ryos okay?"

"I-I'm okay," Ryos, his voice hoarse, responded from behind them. Softly, he added: "So is Frosch."

"We should be safe for now," Cobra said. "But… I didn't hit the effigy core, so the fetch will reform and come back." His eyes flicked to Gajeel's face, his flat features softening. "Especially with the amount of magic it just siphoned from you."

Gajeel only gave a half-grunt in reply.

Cobra cast a glance towards the dark, empty village. "We should get out of here before it has the chance, or anything else shows up. Can either of you stand?"

The shadow dragon answered: "I… I can stand."

Gajeel shook his head. "M'whole body kinda… feels like jello right now…"

"That's fine. I can carry one of you on my back, but not both."

A snort escaped the iron dragon. He couldn't imagine his mate carrying him; Cobra was shorter, and thinner to boot. "... I'm bigger th'n you…"

"And I've carried heavier things than you," Cobra retorted. The issue of Gajeel being taller wouldn't be a problem as long as he stayed awake long enough to be moved someplace else, instead of passing out and ragdolling. As always, the redhead knew just what to say to drive Gajeel crazy… crazy enough to stay awake: "I've carried this team so far, haven't I?"

"Tss," Gajeel tried to dismiss, the sound coming out slurred. "You wish…"


The small cave was dark with barely enough room for even Ryos to stand, though the darkness made it feel less cramped.

Drained of most of his magic, Gajeel lay with his body spanning the width of the cave and his head in his mate's lap, sound asleep. Cobra sat with his back pressed against the side, listening and keeping watch. Ryos was tucked away towards the back, nestled safely behind the older pair.

Outside, the wind had picked up since their retreat - though, with three bodies in such a small space, it hardly chilled the air in the cave. No fire crackled nearby; there was no telling if the copy of Gajeel they'd encountered had been the only one hunting them, and the light and smoke would easily give their hiding spot away.

The Fetch had made it clear that Gajeel was the target, as they had suspected. It had also implied that any others - even children - were expendable. With that in mind, they chose to forgo any inns in Shirotsume and instead stay in the forest until sunrise.

It would also give Gajeel time to recover some of his magic, though that wasn't a factor Cobra mentioned aloud. Ultimately, while Gajeel had allowed himself to be carried because of the situation, the man's pride had made it more than clear that he disliked it.

Stupid idiot. Next time I should just let you crawl, Cobra thought with a tender, fond frustration.

As if on cue, the raven-haired man whose head rested in his lap stirred, only surrendering to sleep once again when Cobra stroked Gajeel's hair back from his face.

Their bond was warm and lax while the iron dragon slept. A natural link, a two-way one, Gajeel would recover quicker if they were in physical contact while he slept; and it wasn't like Cobra didn't have plenty of magic to spare, given that he had a self-renewing third origin infused into his being.

Cobra slowly ran his fingers through long black hair twice more, quietly watching his partner sleep. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, dumbass.

He then closed his eyes and pressed his head back against the cave wall, going over their next moves in his mind.

Once the sun was up (and his boyfriend could stand on his own), they'd need to find a way to warn the guild about the mysterious Revenant's ability to create fetches. If copies of people were running around, getting the originals in trouble, that was bad news.

Fetch creation was an older magic, long outlawed and mostly forgotten. Between balancing out the right amount of ash with correctly assembling and charging the effigy core, it was a complicated summons. One that required a meticulous hand. Whoever was running the new Phantom Lord had to be knowledgeable and powerful. After all, the last person that Cobra knew for certain could even make a fetch was…

… was Brain.

At that thought, Cobra felt his blood run cold.

It couldn't be him now. No. Cobra, of all people, would have heard something about an escape. The other Seis would have shown up by then, for sure; or at the very least, some one-spell Naked Mummy chump would have let slip if their old bosses had returned. There would be more metaphorical fingerprints all over this plan. Right now there only seemed to be one: Revenant. This all-

Why did he feel so dizzy…?

Cobra snapped his eyes open. He let out a breath, suddenly aware that his heart was pounding in his head. In the distance, there was a high-pitched whistling noise - a magic charge, Cobra was sure - and the sound of muffled sobbing; difficult for even his ears to pinpoint over the increasing wind.

He looked down: Gajeel was still asleep. He looked to his left: Ryos and Frosch were still asleep, too. But… everything felt so slow, so heavy. Like moving underwater, yet he was aware that everything still moved in real time.

And, slowly, he began to realize that he couldn't fully catch his breath.

His thoughts swirled and clouded and Cobra found himself unable to focus on any one thing… Except for one pressing thought, one screaming, urgent reflex inside his head: The air's thinning!

Shakily, he reached out and managed to grab a handful of leaves from the floor of the cave. It took extra concentration to summon the scales on his hand, the debris dissolving in a puff of red smoke at his poisonous touch. He then held his clawed hand over his nose and mouth, forcing himself to control his breathing as he inhaled the toxic gases his magic had converted the leaves into.

An oxygen-deficient environment was something he'd been trained for, though not one he had encountered outside of the simulations he'd been forced to run through. It wasn't a trick he could keep up for long - if he moved too quickly, or breathed too hard, hypoxia would set in further.

With his non-scaled hand, he checked both Gajeel and Ryos, even the tiny cat - all, thankfully, still had pulses. The air had thinned to the point of unconsciousness but not suffocation - a very fine line.

Footsteps registered to his ears, getting close - too close, now that he could think slightly straighter. Carefully, he slid out from under the iron dragon and used the cave wall to balance himself until he stood outside the mouth of the cave.

The footsteps were closer now. He could make out the outline of someone moving through the trees towards him… someone with no thoughts.

"Ghihi, didn't expect anybody to still be awake, let alone standing," murred a very familiar voice.

Unable to waste what breath he had on words, Cobra let out a low hiss as the Fetch stepped into view.

Air swirled lightly around its presence, protected from the too-thin air by an outside force. It looked him over and rolled up its sleeves, the glint of iron scales crawling up its arms.

"Now that's a fancy trick," it taunted, mockingly holding its hand over its mouth like Cobra. "But that's all you do, ain't it? Fancy tricks."

When the Fetch charged at him, Cobra, still reeling from oxygen loss, barely dodged.

Toxin breathing was only for emergency survival and not combat. Every too-quick step to dodge depleted what he could breathe. Every movement slowed him, until the iron claws of the Fetch closed around his wrist. It yanked him forward, lifting him up with ease, before slamming him onto the ground back-first. It pinned him there with a knee to his stomach, pressing its weight on him, as it tightly held his wrist with one hand and his throat with the other.

"Take away those fancy tricks, and what are you?"

With his free hand, Cobra clawed at the hand that choked him, his claws barely scratching the stolen iron scales of the creature that wore his lover's face and magic. In return, the Fetch's grip on Cobra's throat tightened. Unable to move or speak, he blinked back wet tears as his vision began to blur orange.

"Just a pretty, fragile thing."

Notes:

Happy holidays, here's some feelings - most of them pain! :D

This was a short chapter, but I have more on the way. (Hopefully in time for the New Year!)

Fun facts:
The traditional concept of a fetch comes from Irish folklore, where seeing one is a form of omen. I've combined it with what we see of Personification Magic in the Starry Skies arc in the anime.

Chapter 29: The Phantom Menace

Notes:

Heads up, despite the jokey chapter title this chapter contains mild descriptions of torture and contains one (1) Gajeel just straight up not having a good time.

Chapter Text

"A dragon may lose loose scales due to a variety of reasons. Whether brushed off during combat, mating, or rough play… to illnesses like scalerot. Scales that are removed prematurely can scar over and run the risk of infection, or ingrown replacement scales." ~ Dragon Historia, pg. 110

Chapter Twenty-nine: The Phantom Menace

He'd gone drinking… hadn't he?

Gajeel reasoned that it would explain why he felt like garbage, as if he had a wicked hangover; his mind still felt so garbled and his body so sluggish.

He remembered red hair and something or other about being carried and that… seemed right. If the iron dragon had gotten shitfaced, the poison dragon had probably helped him home.

But this wasn't home - he knew that much. Gajeel didn't know where he was, and with his entire everything feeling like fresh shit scraped on a sidewalk, he didn't care right then. Maybe a nap would help. That sounded good. Except… there was a reason he shouldn't go back to sleep, wasn't there?

The taste of bile and ash stuck fast to his tongue no matter how much he swallowed trying to rid himself of it. As he moved his mouth a half-toothpick-sized piece of wood made itself known, tucked up between his gums and his cheek - he idly played with it on his tongue before identifying what it was. The nasty taste wasn't from the splinter, so why was it in his mouth? The wood tasted like wood but just beyond the ash and puke, something else. It tasted vinegary, almost like…

The image of little feet in too-big sneakers dangling, kicking, came to his mind. Choking. Crying. Sorry. Sorry… for what? A mistake. His own face, but not…

Gajeel clenched his eyes shut.

Maybe wherever he went drinking had toothpicks. Maybe that place just had skunked beer.

He'd gotten drunk and ended up in a strange place once or twice, but this place… wasn't like the other weird places.

The air was heavy, damp, and stuffy. The walls were cinderblock with a cracked and broken faux stone facade, all barren save for bent sconces that obviously no longer worked. Tripod work lights were stationed at the far corners of the room.

He was sitting up, yet also laying down. It took him a moment longer to realize that he was strapped to a slab of some kind, tilted upwards slightly. His waist, shoulders, legs, ankles, wrists were secured with thick metal restraints. His shirt and boots were missing, too, but that seemed unimportant in the face of waking up tied down to a fucking medical table.

He tried to summon his magic to break the metal clasps holding him down. At best, he had managed to make a few of his scales surface, and only for a second; in response the restraints hummed angrily, heating up against his skin, as they quelled any further attempts at using magic. Okay. Anti-magic restraints. Not the first time he'd dealt with those, but usually they were calibrated to block all magic - not allow a useless little trickle.

Along with the weird restraints, a black muzzle pressed down on the bridge of his studded nose and secured the lower half of his face, preventing him from opening his mouth too wide. Clearly a precaution taken by someone that had learned the lesson that trapped dragons would very quickly resort to biting. Using their sharp fangs. Taking a chunk out of flesh with their mouths, any flesh within reach.

His own face came to mind again.

It was a trippy enough image to begin with, but this… no. No, he remembered. He remembered going to sleep in that cave with Ryos and… and Cobra. He remembered feeling his body reeling in pain but still being forcefully roused by something searing, something urgent flaring through him. The man with his face - no… the Fetch.

It had been on top of Cobra.

It had its hand around his neck.

It was strangling his mate.

Just remembering that scene made his guts feel twisted and his chest hurt. His restrained form heaved, pushing out an involuntary, inhuman, and sorrowful sound.

Cobra had said that fetches were made of ash, hair, and yew. There was a core, an effigy, that had to be destroyed. The first time Gajeel had fought the Fetch, he didn't remember touching wood - only ash and hair. If it was yew wood in his mouth, it could only mean that he had crushed the core with his fangs and the Fetch was dispelled. Except…

Except he didn't remember what happened after that horrible sight filled him with rage.

Cobra… had to be okay. His mate was strong and tougher than he looked. The redhead had been through worse, like: whatever had messed up his arm, and the giant diawolf that ate him that one time, and… and almost turning into a lacrima statue.

It was true that Gajeel couldn't feel his mate through their bond, but, then again, he couldn't feel much beyond the restraints holding him down.

Gajeel had destroyed the Fetch - Cobra had to be okay. He just… had to be. And… if Cobra was okay, chances were that he'd watch over that squirt Ryos in Gajeel's absence. And that mint green kitten, too. He'd see them all again as soon as he escaped wherever the fuck this was.

He had enough wiggle room to move his head. Next to his table was a dirty cart, the top lined with wires, a boxy machine, an empty silver tray, and several pairs of pliers.

The concrete ceilings had a familiar faux-stone design as did the big arched windows behind him, too - though he could only see the tops. To the sides of the room were heavy wooden doors that were reinforced with metal fastenings.

He'd bet money that this was an abandoned building belonging to one of Phantom Lord's old auxiliary branches.

"Ah, you're awake," came a nasally, leering voice. "I thought I heard the sound of a traitorous, pathetic lizard in here."

In the doorway to his right stood a tall, poised figure in a dark, wide-brimmed pointed hat; a man with oil-black hair and greasy skin the color of an old bruise. It was someone that, to Gajeel's best knowledge, shouldn't have been there. It was the demon man that had once held the title of Saint, who had originally held the title of Phantom Lord Guildmaster: Jose Porla.

"You-?!" Gajeel balked through the muzzle.

Jose let out a disappointed noise. "You almost seem surprised to see me here."

"You're 'sposed t'be in jail!"

"Prison, technically," Jose corrected with a sickly smile. "I was let out on good behavior." Just as suddenly, the smile faded and was gone; replaced by a black-lipped sneer. "But you haven't been very good, have you, you mongrel?"

Gajeel sharply exhaled through his nose, the muzzle making it sound like pressurized steam.

With his hands behind his back, Jose strode forward into the room, the gilded twin-tails of his mulberry coat trailing behind him. Every step, his hollowed face screwed into a more twisted and rage-filled expression, until he was half-bent over the table where Gajeel was strapped down, leaning in close. Too close. Close enough to tell that the Phantom Master smelled as much like a corpse as he looked; like cremation ash. The man had unsuccessfully tried to hide it with some spicy-smelling fogey cologne.

"Do you think I took you in off the streets of Denish for fun," he enunciated every consonant, spitting slightly as he leaned close. "Invested all of that time and money, so you could turn tail, go gallivanting around with the enemy? Pretend to be a pretty little Fairy? Pet kitty-cats and play house with snot-nosed brats?"

He leaned away and stomped on the lower end of the table, causing Gajeel to be whipped upwards as the slab went vertical. The sudden movement of the table made Gajeel's stomach lurch, but he swallowed it back.

"So you could to eat your fill out of the fucking garbage and hump every lost race between here and goddamned Pergrande while you let my guild crumble?!"

Gajeel's jaw tightened, his glare defiant. Jose was trying to bait him, trying to get him to react, that much was clear. Though the parts about Denish and the garbage thing were kinda right, (decent metal was hard to find when he was broke and between guilds), the iron dragon steeled himself with the knowledge that the rest of his former Master's gripes were all things very well out of his control or exaggerated. His brother wasn't just some snot-nosed brat and his mate sure as hell wasn't just some rando!

He… had to survive the demon's temper. For them. He had endured it, danced around it for years before, so what if Jose was just a little more pissed than normal. The Phantom Master's old tricks weren't going to work on him anymore.

"Eat shit," the iron dragon flatly growled through the muzzle.

Jose glanced down at him, eyes laden with a tired contempt. "And deprive you of your favorite treat? I wouldn't dream of it."

The Phantom Master turned to the cart next to the table, fiddling with the knobs on the square device that sat on top. It emitted a familiar high-pitched whine as it powered on. Shit. It was something electrical. Electricity and Gajeel didn't mix.

He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his heart beat rapidly in his chest.

"I see you still haven't learned any manners while I've been in the big house."

"So I keep bein' fucking told," Gajeel snapped out of habit. Stupid! Why the fuck did he say that?! He just had to keep his mouth shut, not rile a former Wizard Saint up even further!

"And you're getting mouthy again, aren't you." Jose fished a roll of tape out of his coat pocket, picking up a small coil of wire from the cart with the other. "You know. There's an old saying: some people can only learn things through suffering. Tonight, I'm going to make sure you learn something for once."


It was just a little battery box, he had told himself. Gajeel had been nearly electrocuted by Laxus - shocked half to death by another dragon - no way could a dumb little box compare.

Endure it, that's all he had to do.

Wait until Jose slipped up, then break loose.

But… as it felt like his body was violently shaken inside his own skin, like his brain and eyes were vibrating in his own skull as his head banged against the metal table for the tenth time, it started to sink in that killing him was truly not the ex-Saint's goal. And that the small trickle of magic that the restraints allowed played into that.

As he was shocked, his muscles spasmed and, even with the restraints, sparse iron scales were forced to the surface of his skin. Scales that Jose was taking his time pulling out with rubbered pliers, leaving behind bloodied indents in the flesh of Gajeel's arms and shoulders. Gajeel had long stopped noticing how these new holes in his skin burned as the bloody rawness came into contact with the air.

Gajeel wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of a scream. Not that he could, with the electrical currents coursing through him.

After a scale was pulled, Jose would flip the switch on the battery, turning it off. He allowed Gajeel to catch his breath and recover slightly; allowing him to regain at least some semblance of consciousness before turning it back on again.

"I thought setting a trap filled with rare metals and cold iron would have been enough to lure you, but you had to make it difficult, didn't you." His pliers hovered over a scale near Gajeel's elbow. He dug the tip of it into Gajeel as he pried it out. "I tore my hair out trying to get you to cooperate with the Element Four without maiming someone. And what do you do in Fairy Tail? Suddenly you start behaving yourself. You willingly involve yourself with other people. Gleefully bring them along on missions with you. But how is that working out for you, Gajeel, hm?"

The Phantom Master turned the battery off again.

"Only one of you was specifically requested by my client," Jose stated. "Care to guess who?"

Everything still felt fuzzy, but, even so, the ex-Saint's words still made it through. Someone… had sent Jose after him?

Jose examined the end of the pliers, eyeing the bloody scale he'd extracted. Seemingly satisfied, he dropped the scale into the tray on the cart along with the rest. "The others are merely collateral. The cowardly brat might fetch a good bonus from my client, but I'm holding out to see who will pay more for that lost property."

The asshole confirmed that he had Ryos, but… lost property? Did his mate break out and steal something from this bastard?

"Oh?" the noise Jose made was smug and nasally. Gajeel wished he could break the man's face with his fists. "You look confused, Gajeel. Could it be that you don't know…?"

There was a lot that Gajeel knew he didn't know. Cobra had a lot of secrets, that much was true - the guy was practically made of them. A lot of the secrets his mate kept were supposedly very dangerous things to know, and he kept them from Gajeel to protect him - which he accepted well enough. Though… a secret that Jose-fucking-Porla somehow knew about his mate, something Gajeel didn't? It stung worse than the shocks and the missing scales combined.

"... Know what," Gajeel rasped.

"Your little Elf is a slave."

Gajeel closed his eyes, trying to find the energy to verbally reject such an outrageous lie. "No. Used t'be a dark mage…"

"Thinking was never your strong suit," Jose dismissed. "It isn't surprising you don't know. He still has the ultraviolet brandings marking him as someone else's property. They're for a company that operates out of Bosco."

Someone's property!? Cobra was his partner, his mate! An animalistic snarl tore from Gajeel throat as jerked against his restraints in an attempt to maul the man who only stepped back - mockingly out of potential reach.

Jose stood there for a moment, taking dark satisfaction from the distress dawning on his victim.

"Between his owner and my client, somebody should pay nicely for him… or else I'll have to see how much an Elf can fetch on the open markets." Jose feigned thought. "I imagine it would be quite the sum. Elves are very rare in Ishgar these days. Who knows what someone would want with one, especially one still so youthful…?"

"Why don't I claw that shit-eating grin off yer shit-eating face!" Gajeel thrashed against his restraints, the table and restraints clanging violently. Blood smeared the surface as he raged. "If you even lay a single finger on him, I'll kill you!"

Jose grabbed a fistful of Gajeel's hair and slammed the iron dragon's head back against the metal table repeatedly.

"You-! Never could-! Shut that-! Mouth-!" He pulled Gajeel's head back so that he could look him in the eye. "You were never this wretchedly codependent. And now look at how pathetic you've become: getting so worked up over some runaway sex slave like a lovesick fool." Jose pulled the hair in his hands upwards, wrenching Gajeel's head to the side as the iron dragon glared at him, unfocused. "Though maybe I should count myself lucky I could never sate you with women. Or men, apparently."

Still aware enough to know that he wanted to slaughter the former Saint in front of him, a breathy, inhuman growl was all that Gajeel could muster.

"I'm not some half-breed, half-wit lizard like you, I have intentions of cashing in on a payday instead of sticking my dick in it. I won't do anything to him."

The Phantom Master fished around in his pocket with his other hand, out of Gajeel's line of sight, and withdrew something short and gleaming. With a quick swipe of a blade, Gajeel's head dropped forward as Jose sliced off a massive tress of his mane as close to the scalp as possible.

"You will." Jose inspected the hair he'd stolen, weighing it mockingly in his hand. "The bruises will likely fade by the time anything's done with him, after all."

Chapter 30: Echoes of the Past and Present

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Dragons are intelligent, wild beings of the Primordial Ether… It must be absolutely stressed that you should not keep them as part of any kind of menagerie, as even the smaller, more amicable elemental breeds do poorly in captivity." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 2 + 6

Chapter Thirty: Echoes of the Past and Present

A ceiling made of dark stone greeted him as his eyes opened. The vague thought that he didn't recognize the ceiling briefly crossed his mind before the sudden onset of a more crucial thought: Breathe!

Cobra gasped, taking in several gulps of air spaced by coughs as he rolled onto his side. His neck muscles seared with pain as his dry throat stung.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to right his senses as he lay there.

It was quiet. Deafeningly quiet.

His cheek was pressed against a cold cement floor. Loose strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat despite the coolness of the air around him. He could see that he was in a tiny windowless room bordered by gray cinderblock walls, with a single drain in the center and an imposing metal door. Something cool and metallic bound his hands behind his back; given just how muted everything sounded to his ears, he guessed the restraints were likely anti-magic handcuffs.

The dark cramped stone, the restraints, unable to feel any magic of his own, all alone in a barren cell; it was all too achingly familiar in his dazed state. He flinched when he heard voices - bawdy laughter - outside the door and a familiar feeling gripped him.

A feeling that he had long thought buried, that it had been tempered by rigorous training.

An almost-instinctual jolt inside of him urging him to flee.

Run.

Hide.

Listen.

They're coming.

Cobra closed his eyes in an attempt to steady himself. With effort, he controlled his breathing and his heart stopped racing.

This was another dark cell he'd found himself in, but this was not the cult-run Tower of Heaven.

The voices were weak peons, not cultist commandants.

He was no longer a helpless child left to suffer in the dark after the commandants found him again.

… The muzzle was new, though. It was definitely made for someone with a bigger nose. It didn't fit him, his own rounder head and flatter facial features made it sit awkwardly, almost loosely, on the lower half of his face.

Carefully, he used the wall behind him to leverage himself enough to sit up, unsuccessfully blowing more loose hair out of his face, noting numbly that his legs hadn't been bound. His ears slid back, the feeling of his skin being exposed to the air catching him off guard. His shoes and coat were missing. Both his pant legs had been rolled up to expose faint ligature scars on his ankles and his sleeves rolled up to bare the ones on his wrists. The front of his high-collared black shirt had been cut open to his clavicle, exposing his neck. No fresh marks marred his skin, other than the Fetch's injury to his throat.

What happened…?

He didn't recall the Fetch tearing at his clothes but, then again, he wasn't sure how long he had been passed out for. All he knew was that it felt like an instant: one moment, it was on top of him; the next, he was in a dark cell. Alone.

Which, even through the muzzle, the stale air of his cell smelled of ale and faintly like vomit.

The tiny room was a drunk tank, he blearily concluded. A lot of the larger guild halls had them in their basements for when mages became too intoxicated to be dealt with. (Not that he'd ever spent time in one, though he did sneak into one to kill a man once.) The cell was embedded with nullification runes - meant to withstand wildly drunk mages - breaking out from the inside would be difficult, even if his magic wasn't further dampened by the anti-magic cuffs.

The only light came from a small rectangular slat in the door, an opening that - though it allowed in voices and sounds - was only big enough to peek through.

Again he glanced around the empty cell. A strangely optimistic part of himself hoped Gajeel and Ryos had gotten away after he'd lost consciousness, and that they weren't locked up in the cells next to him… though his more rational side knew that it was highly unlikely considering they were both knocked out well before he was.

Gajeel had to still be alive, that Cobra was sure of. Phantom Lord and their new Master Revenant were going through a lot of pain and expense to lure him out, they wouldn't kill him. At least not right away. And if Cobra was still alive then so was Ryos; the two of them were likely being held to use as leverage against Gajeel.

It would have been easy enough to secure a kid. But… was Cobra put into the cell alone, on purpose? Did Revenant put him here for convenience or for a more calculated reason? After all, anti-magic handcuffs were enough for normal mages to be temporarily blocked from their magic, however they rarely completely sealed off the magic of someone with a lacrima implant. (It was possible to use cuffs to cut off all magic from both mage and implant… though it required specialized restraints, which only the Rune Knights and other sections of the Magic Council's forces had access to.)

No. Being put in the drunk tank was an extra level of shutting Cobra off from all his magic, he reasoned. Someone knew he had an implant and took the frustratingly appropriate measures - whether it was the someone in charge, or the Fetch providing that information, was unclear.

It was an incredible mistake on the part of his captors not to secure his legs. He shifted so that he sat with the soles of his feet touching. He then bent forward, ignoring the pain blossoming from his surely bruised throat, grasping at the edge of the muzzle with his toes. The ill-fitting muzzle slid little by little off of his face, and up over the top of his head until it fell to the floor.

Whoever was in charge had greatly underestimated his dexterity and flexibility.

A plan slowly started to form in Cobra's mind. The first step: get out of the magic-proof cell. An easy enough task for a former assassin.

Once more leaning his weight against the wall, Cobra slid up against it until he was standing, then silently padded over to the door. He peeked through the rusty slit and counted three men outside: a tall and bald Phantom that had his back to Cobra's door, a short Phantom with patchy ginger facial hair, and a Mummy that appeared to be a yellow-tinged toad demon. The taller Phantom Lord member appeared to have been the cell's guard, if Cobra had to guess from the bald man's body language.

It can't be that hard to get one of these assorted assclowns to open the door, he thought dismissively.

"It's pretty crazy that someone actually paid for us to catch the scaly bastard," the short Phantom said.

Cobra's ears perked. Someone hired them…? Given the mild level of organization going on it wasn't surprising news, only concerning. However, upon hearing his temporary captors' conversation further, his thoughts quickly turned to committing triple homicide.

"But then," the short, couldn't-grow-a-beard-to-save-his-life Phantom went on, a sleazy lilt to his voice, "We heard Kurogane, of all people, somehow bought himself an Elf. An Elf! Nobody's seen one for decades and he somehow found one, so we wanted to come see her for ourselves."

BOUGHT-?! A hot rage flashed through Cobra's body, his posture going rigid from what these stooges were saying. His lips curled back to expose his fangs and his ears flattened back against his skull.

Mentally, Cobra went over everything - every detail of his relationship with Gajeel. Nothing stood out. Nothing! There was no possible reason Cobra could think that anyone, (Mirajane the Gossip Bloodhound aside), should even suspect they were dating - let alone this supposed alternative!

"Yeah," confirmed the Phantom guard. "But you're gonna be disappointed…"

"Why?" asked the toad-Mummy. "Aren't Elves supposed to be super easy on the eyes?"

The shorter Phantom's concerns were more crude: "Does she got small tits or something...?" He shook his head, signaling that it was a non-issue for him. "I don't care if she does. I mean, tits are tits, man."

A deadpan second of silence passed before the guard responded: "It's a male Elf, you jackshits."

"A male Elf-?!" both the visitors flummoxed.

"Right?" the guard sighed. "Who would've figured that Black Steel Gajeel himself would want a little boy toy?"

"More like chew toy," snortled the shorter Phantom. "But I guess when you're less man and more beast that a hole's a hole."

"I still wanna see," the toad demon mentioned, twiddling his sticky fingers. When his companions made disapproving hand motions, he let out an annoyed croak. "When will be the next time any of us will get to see one outside of pictures?"

The bald guard shook his head. "You're with Naked Mummy's outfit, yeah? Then you've probably already seen him."

The toad demon croaked, insulted: "We worked for Racer. Even if this Elf belonged to one of the groups under the other Oracion Seis, I think I'd remember seeing someone Elfaerin."

"It is one of the Seis, you toad," the guard told him. "Don't you read Weekly Sorcerer? One of them saw the fuzz coming and ran. Took some kinda deal to stay out of jail. Been doing business with Fairy Tail ever since."

"Seems he's been pretty busy doing the business all right." The short Phantom again snickered, ignoring the way the toad demon paled to a pastel hue at his next suggestion: "Hey, think the Rev could cook up a lady ashspawn version of him?"

Cobra's right ear twitched twice. No one would miss these three perverts if they happened to be melted beyond recognition by some sort of highly-corrosive dragon acid… he was sure of it.

Cobra then leaned his weight on one leg, winding up the other to kick against the cell door with the ball of his foot.

BANG.

The three dark mages turned to the cell.

"Hey, be quiet in there, you snitch!" shouted the guard.

BANG.

"We said 'be quiet'!"

BANG.

The guard whirled around and stomped up to the cell door to glare inside.

Cobra knew this wouldn't be the prettiest escape, but he was nothing if not opportunistic. And he took that specific opportunity to spit in the bald man's face.

"You little shit-!" the guard shouted, reeling back from the door as he wiped his face. The sound of at-expense laughter from the other dark mages tore an angry grunt from the tall bald man, and the sound of fumbling fingers reaching for jingling keys was signal enough for Cobra to step back from the door.

Inside his mouth, Cobra pressed his fangs against his tongue, shifting his jaw as he coaxed his fangs to prominence. That's right. Open the door.

They wanted to see an Elf?

He'd show them a Dragon.

And it would be the last thing they ever saw.


He had long perfected moving silently across hard stone and shoddy cement work without shoes; muscle memory was enough to make sure he walked on the balls of his feet and shifted his weight appropriately. It wasn't the first time he had to do it with his hands bound, either.

The only magic that came back to him after leaving the cell was his hearing magic, and it returned to him only partially. No thoughts, no sound of souls, only far-off physical sounds returned to his ears. And even then, everything sounded both muted and echoey; like hearing whalesong underwater. Being only partially able to hear within his usual range was much more disorienting than he remembered.

Even without having access to his usual full hearing range, Cobra could tell when to turn down an empty hallway to avoid a patrol; the barren cement amplified the steps, conversations, and the disgustingly loud mouth-breathing of anyone that happened to be headed his way.

It took extra energy to think clearly in the state he found himself in, extra time spent on squashing the need to second guess his every move as he tried to figure out what sounds to listen to and which to ignore.

Focus, he reminded himself.

He'd escaped the cell, now he had to find Gajeel and Ryos and get the hell out. He would have to think fast and logically if they were going to have any chance to get out of this mud pit of a mess.

His guard not having the key to his restraints was a security measure - a highly aggravating security measure - meant to further deter escapees.

Though it was not a policy he would have suspected to be in place, given what he'd seen of the goons so far. Too many of them thought too much of themselves and the Phantoms seemed to be a bunch that ignored their surroundings if they were on their own turf... Which, based on the Phantom Lord insignias on the walls and doors, the building seemed to be. The directional signs on the outside of old rooms had all been removed from the walls - another security measure, he was sure - so that only those familiar with the layout could find their way around.

Either the Phantom-Mummy collaboration had been going on longer than anyone realized, or the person in charge - this Master Revenant - had a lot of experience running a large guild. Both options sucked.

The building's basement was a maze of half-blocked hallways and repurposed rooms; some filled with various crates of contraband, some with haphazardly-thrown cots and sleeping mats. (Without working security lacricams, having people nearby the wares was the next best thing. It was definitely an old school solution, like the other security measures.)

Cobra froze as he passed by one large door in particular. It stood out from the rest: a tall, top-hung sliding door made of metal. One glance was all it took for him to know it was made from Gajeel's iron. Cobra had seen the furniture his boyfriend had filled their house with, this door had the same handiwork applied to it, if a little cruder. The door was open no more than a foot, allowing a breeze into the otherwise stuffy hallway maze, yet the room beyond it was dark and the echoed, miserable crooning of trapped animals and frightened, murmured whispers came from within.

Shuffling, heavy footfalls echoed further down one of the hallways and Cobra whipped his head towards it, hearing the faint sniffling of a man who sounded on the verge of tears.

An upset target would be easy to subdue or evade… but the dark mages he'd seen had been in groups no smaller than three, yet this sad man's footfalls signaled only one person. If it was another escapee they wouldn't have been wandering so casually through the old Phantom building, not making so much pathetic noise.

Faced with an approaching unknown, he squeezed through the open iron door. The room beyond expanded out into a cargo area, filled with tarp-covered crates. The chorus of whispered voices seemed to stop in his presence… which he wasn't sure was a good or bad thing. Cobra knelt behind the nearest crate, making sure he could still see the door, and waited for the sound of boots to trudge by.

His suspicions were confirmed as a large, stocky figure in dark green and saffron robes paused in the doorway. A man with pallid skin and tear-stained bony cheeks, his dark hair clung to his face in damp ringlets as he sniveled.

The sad man curiously peeked inside and Cobra held his breath, hoping the big guy would lose interest and continue on his way. One more sniffle escaped the man, who then immediately sneezed. He adjusted the ornate mulberry and ivory sash across his shoulders before sliding the door shut, mumbling a lament about animal dandruff allergies.

The heavy iron door slid shut with a clang that reverberated throughout the warehouse. Cobra's ears pinned back and his entire body winced from the horrid, warbly echo of it.

A sudden whine from the crate behind him and a wide tongue licking at his bound hands made him shudder and leap to his feet.

He contained his disgust, leaning back on one leg to lift up the tarp with his foot, as he tried to see what had just slobbered on his fingers.

The moonsilver eyes of a young saberwolf watched him carefully from behind the bars of a heavy cage, the beast relaxing only when he set the tarp back down.

Cobra turned back to the lightless warehouse, his ears perking as he registered that most of the concealed crates were actually cages. Some contained endangered animals, some contained… whispers.

Which meant only one thing could be in them: people.

Upon that realization, disdain ran through Cobra like a river.

Quietly, he toed towards the sound of verbal voices. As he drew closer to the source, he noted that the cages the whispered conversations came from were too small for most adults.

Yet… the voices didn't sound like they belonged to children.

Notes:

Can I offer you some overthinking Cobra in this trying time? ❤️

Also, sorry it's been [checks calendar] almost 6 months since the last update. Between trying to find a new job, going through medical treatments, and recovering from Miss Covid Rona on top of it all... My brain's been scrambled eggs for weeks. Thank you for being patient! oTL

Chapter 31: These Are Your Ghosts

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"While dragons are not fond of non-Etheric races such as Humans, they will often commune with other Etheric peoples with varying degrees of success." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 2

Chapter Thirty-one: These Are Your Ghosts

Jose surveyed the map on his desk, tracing his finger with half-interest over old sea smuggler routes that ran along the Northern Ishgarish coast between Fiore, Bosco, and Pergrande.

The intel Deedmore had passed along had been right: Gajeel had been dating a member of Fairy Tail. His teammate, Deedmore had correctly suspected. A young man named Cobra Ophidias; the only member of the notorious Oracion Seis to escape a prison sentence. Traitors flocking together made the situation make more sense, though only slightly.

Information on the redhead was very hard to come by. He declined media interviews and pictures of his face were almost nonexistent; the media had given him the moniker of White Snake Cobra, almost a complement to Black Steel Gajeel.

The only information Jose could get out of any of the more senior dark mages with Naked Mummy was that Cobra "knew things" and had an affinity for animals, particularly snakes.

A coded letter from one of Jose's sources back at Blackgate Prison mentioned a lacrimal implant and a dislike for loud noises… Not that an encrypted letter could contain much more than that without raising suspicions. But that info had been put to use containing the little sapper regardless. (The letter also mentioned something about "heaven", which didn't make sense. It was entirely possible that the someone writing the letter had refused to take their meds that day... again. If that were the case, rambling about nonsense was expected.)

And he was a Dragonslayer… one of the ones in Makarov's collection that hadn't been involved in the Fairy-Phantom war.

No one had told Jose that this Cobra was a fucking Elf.

None of the few pictures showed pointed ears.

Not his sources still serving time.

Even Deedmore, the high and mighty PECOC Chairman, didn't say anything about it - though Jose wouldn't put it past the fop to deliberately leave that part out.

It appeared that not even Gajeel himself had any idea who he was seeing.

The First Fetch, made from a sample of hair Jose had leftover from his Phantom Lord days, not having any idea who this Cobra was, solidified the fact that the affair had begun after he'd joined Fairy Tail.

The Second Fetch, as new as it was, had been able to provide slightly more information, but wasn't able to provide anything about the Elf's origins - which was the billion-Jewel question that had consumed Jose's thoughts since making the discovery.

He had been right to check the young man for any previous seller's brands - (as if something as rare as an Elf would have been unmarked) - and he'd since found out that the Bosconi company that the ultraviolet brandings belonged to no longer operated. They'd been completely wiped out by some other section of the underworld, all their records and members destroyed. Which cut out any attempts to try to trace where they would have sourced such a nice little payday.

But logic dictated that where there was one Elf, there had to be more.

Everyone knew that the Elves had left Ishgar years ago. Almost overnight, they had all vanished - leaving behind only ghost towns and animals with too-keen senses and a keener ability to not be caught by non-Etheric hands. Elves could do strange things to the world around them; one of the bigger rumors went that they had all, collectively, fled Ishgar by walking under the sea back to their native continent of Vanir in the far northern wastes.

All of them, save for one: the Parliament Leader of Pergrande, Beau Gwynnlyn.

Well… all of them except for Beau Gwynnlyn and this Cobra Ophidias, apparently.

Jose sharply rapped his fingertips on the desk, silently sounding in his ire when a knock at his office door interrupted his thoughtful stewing.

"Master Jose," a deep, sorrowful voice interrupted his fuming. Jose looked up to see a large, wide man with a square jaw and sad eyes bowing as he approached where the Phantom Master sat. "We've received word about the Exceed shipment. Bora's group should be ready for the exchange by next week."

"Good," Jose sharply said, taking his attention away from the map. "Make sure he pays fully in cash this time, Aria. The lacrima from the last payment has been useful, but I won't accept it again."

"Of course, Master."

Out of his previous S-class mages, Aria was the only member of the former Element Four with any sense of loyalty. Sol had gone back to his homeland; Totomaru had secured a job teaching snot-nosed brats at some academy; and the traitorous scum known as Gajeel and Juvia had joined the ranks of Fairy Tail. He could tolerate that from some dreary, frail woman, though not from his former right hand. That was an insult to his person that he would not stand.

As Jose shifted to rise from his chair, the crunch of the shards of broken lacrima under his heel returned his attention to the current affairs that still needed tending. "Aria, our new associates from Naked Mummy, their more senior members have received their severance pay?"

"Yes, Master Jose." Aria paused thoughtfully, understanding his Master's unasked question. Smart man. "As you asked."

After the fall of the Oracion Seis, many of the lesser dark guilds were either apprehended or dissolved. Naked Mummy had been one of the few exceptions: thanks to their use of magic vehicles to stay ahead, they were one of the last of the former underling dark guilds that hadn't been jailed or absorbed by another faction of the Baalam Alliance. Jose gave them what they needed: a leader.

The lot of them were more obsessed with their magic-injection vehicles than actual work and loud slackers would not be tolerated under their new Leadership.

"Good."


Like a small flicker, a lone spark of light coaxing him to open his eyes to a world around him that was still hazy and blurred from magic-loss exhaustion.

What little of Gajeel's own magic that still remained had been drained by another fetch - another creature wearing his face - but this… this did not feel like his magic prickling at the back of his senses, lifting his mind from the depths of unconsciousness.

Relief ebbed in his chest as he recognized the supernal touch of his mate, however muddled and distant. The magic flow began to trickle into him by their bond, droplet by droplet, through the small amount of magic the restraints allowed. Whether it meant that Cobra had escaped or merely woken up, Gajeel wasn't sure. He hoped it meant that he escaped.

Cobra was strong, Gajeel could admit that. (It was maybe even sorta kinda hot.) But Jose had been a Wizard Saint. Even if he had been the weakest of the Holy Ten, Jose was still a very powerful threat that even top-tier S-classed mages would fall to.

Gajeel hoped his mate had escaped, grabbed the kid, and gone far, far away.

Gradually, his surroundings became clearer as he woke further: he was still strapped to the goddamn table in the room with big stupid windows, sweat-sticky muzzle stuck to his face, only now the Second Fetch watched him from its post by the main doors. And it was wearing his clothes.

"So sleeping beauty has finally decided to wake up, eh?" the Fetch sneered. "If you're awake, your magic must be comin' back. Guess that training did pay off." It gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Eventually."

Back in his Phantom Lord days, Gajeel recalled feeling intense malaise, not the nausea and searing hot pain of the Fetch, when Jose had made him train against Aria's Metsu spell. The exercise was meant to strengthen them both - Gajeel to gain defense against magic loss, Aria to get a feeling for draining Old Magic - but all that happened was that Gajeel ended up disliking Aria even more… and he'd already found the guy annoying and fucking creepy to begin with.

"Maybe," Gajeel breathed slowly, "You should be training... Fer when I crush yer core …like I did with the last one'a you."

The Fetch watched him but did not step closer. "Yeah? And how're ya gonna do that? You're lookin' a little pathetic, hanging there like a freshly gutted kill. So forgive me if I ain't inclined ta believe you." It tilted its chin up to look down at him. "'Specially when you don't even know if it was you that dispelled the last fetch. For all either of us knows, it was my mate that did it."

Gajeel exhaled sharply out of his nose, a sharp, quick growl signaling to the Fetch to watch its language. Not yours.

"Don't forget: I'm your replacement, numbnuts. Which means I'm better. I won't let myself go soft because of something so damn stupid as fawning over'a mate."

"Replacement…? Hah... You couldn't replace the hair in a shower drain!"

The Fetch folded its arms across its chest. "You're the one strung up all limp-like. You're the one stuck linked to someone you know nothin' about. I don't gotta deal with that drama."

"I ain't stuck," Gajeel grunted. If anything, maybe it's Cobra who's stuck with me… And just where did this burnt hairball get off, acting so flippant about their mate bond! "And what he knows… it's his business."

"Is it, though?" The Fetch's face wrinkled into an unkind, mocking smirk. "Everything you've gotten outta him you've had to claw out yerself. Hell, Master Jose was able to figure out more about him in five damn minutes than you have in, what, months? Just 'cause you wanna forget that fact after seeing him grasping the bed sheets and gasping fer you…" It rolled its eyes, then let out an ungracious snort of its own. "But then again, he was definitely grasping at that last fetch, eh? Really left him gasping."

If it wasn't for the muzzle, his fangs would have been on full display. "Keep him outta yer mouth."

"Or what?" The Fetch snorted. "We both know you're more bark than bite these days. Joining the Fairies, bein' friendly with other dragons, gettin' bed-cozy with a sexy redhead; it's all made you lose your touch. Nobody's scared of ya anymore." It smiled, much too sharply. "Don't even get why you're so defensive. You know you're not any of his firsts. Never will be."

A deep, animalistic growl rumbled from Gajeel's very core.

Again it shrugged. "Maybe he's just got a thing for guys that give him a free place ta live-"

The echo of a door clicking open cracked through the air of the barren room, immediately silencing them both.

The Fetch glanced to the main doors, straightening its posture, before the doors swung open by Jose's hand. Aria followed several steps behind their Master.

Jose's eyes flicked to where the Second Fetch stood, unmoved from where he had left it, before turning back to Gajeel with a sickly smile. "See how much easier things are when you do what you're told?"

Gajeel turned his head away from the Phantom Master. Though he couldn't see the battery box anywhere nearby, right then he would do anything to avoid looking at the demon man who had torn so many scales from his skin. Or the Fetch. Or that sniveling pile of backbone-less blubber Aria.

"And when you learn not to bite the hand that fed you for so many years," Jose mused upon seeing the Dragonslayer's reaction. He then turned his attention back to the Second Fetch, circling around it once with an insightful eye. "Finally stabilized. Good. Should make the exchange next week run smoother."

"I-It's coming to the exchange, Master?" Aria (pathetically) asked.

"Of course it is. Even without Gajeel's magic to stabilize it, the first attempt did well during the Rockrose raid. I'm not going through all this trouble to not use them." The Phantom Master stroked his chin in thought. "Faeccefylgja, Faeccefylgja, Faeccefylgja," he addressed the Fetch, "I, who formed you from Dust and Essence, speak your true name three times. By the Rules of the life granted unto you, my request you cannot deny."

At the spoken incantation the Fetch stood unnaturally still, almost as if frozen, as it awaited instructions.

"The question I asked of you earlier, go see if our little knife-eared friend knows the answer to it. Use any means necessary, save for dismemberment or death. If there is anything that impedes your function, you are to return to me."

Given its command, the Fetch nodded. It turned to leave, only briefly locking eyes with Gajeel - one last challenge, one last mirrored mockery - before it closed the door behind it.

Jose wiped his hands together as if he had performed a laborious task. "What's wrong, Gajeel?" he frowned. "The knowing, the waiting; I thought you would appreciate being awake for this part."


It wasn't long before the Second Fetch graced interrogation room once again.

"Master. We've got a problem," the Fetch said.

One glance at how neat and unmussed the Fetch looked told Gajeel one thing: whatever information Jose had wanted to get from Cobra, he wasn't going to be getting it.

"What do you mean 'a problem'," Jose sneered. "He's tied up in a magic-nullifying cell. How much of 'a problem' could he possibly be?"

The Fetch continued: "A problem and two bodies, both belonging to Phantom Lord. One's half-melted into a bloody puddle on the floor, the other had his face smashed through the wall. There's a third guy from Naked Mummy that's locked himself in the prisoner's cell and is too busy pissing himself to come out."

A small bit of pride welled up in Gajeel's chest. Pride - and juuuust a little more worry. If Cobra had broken out, where was he? Was he okay? Did he go far, far away like Gajeel had hoped, or was he still lurking nearby?

The iron dragon still couldn't feel their link completely, couldn't feel more than the dribbling of magic that was keeping him barely awake; everything else was still, frustratingly, blocked. He was in a sore, bad shape - not fit to fight for very long, even if he did somehow break out of his own restraints - but as useless as Gajeel was at the moment, he could definitely buy his mate more time.

"C'mon now… Why're you so surprised, Jose…?" Gajeel slurred through his sorry state, grinning as sharply as he could. "... Ya wanna put on a big show like this… 'bout how scary n' gore-hungry ya wanna make ol' me out t'be…" He managed to pick up his head to look his former Master in the eye, his shaky and bloodied expression only spreading. "You thought… this'd be an easy job…? Ya didn't stop ta think if I somehow… f-found myself with somebody… didja think that somebody would be weak…? And I'm the stupid one?" A dark, wet laugh rumbled from him. "GhihihehFuck you."

Notes:

Had to squeeze in one more chapter of Gajeel's doubts/bad train of thought and Jose being a shit stool. >:3c

And this was basically how I imagined that one scene with the Fetch going:

Gajeel: What Cobra knows is his business!

Fetch:

Chapter 32: Fight and Flight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"A dragon on the hunt will reduce an entire village to rubble… Survivors of a dragon attack are rare indeed." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 233

Chapter Thirty-two: Fight and Flight

Much like the rest of the cargo bay, the half-height cages stacked two-tall that lined the area were covered by tarps and old, tattered blankets. The cages on the bottom had less covering, and reflective round eyes blinked out at Cobra as he toed past.

A brash, feminine, yet very much adult voice asked in a hushed tone: "Can you see? Is it one of the guards getting absolutely blitzed again?"

"They wouldn't have shut the door like that if it was," answered a familiar, deeper voice to Cobra's right.

His brows knit. He'd heard that voice someplace before.

He approached the cage of the familiar voice and lifted the tarp with his foot, kicking it up and out of the way. Behind the dark metal bars of the door held closed by a glassy runework lock panel sat an Exceed with black fur, a white maw, and a crescent scar on his brow. The Exceed appeared to be injured, stiffly clutching a set of cloth bandages across his stomach, but he was not injured enough to hide his surprise when he saw Cobra.

"It's you," said the Exceed, his feline ears swiveling forward.

Cobra still couldn't place the magic cat. One of his ears perked. "Do I know you?" he whispered back, his voice raspy as his bruised throat stung.

"Pantherlily," the Exceed explained softly. "We met in Edolas. We fought at the giant lacrima on Extalia's sky border. You and your accomplice broke my blade."

"Weren't you," Cobra paused awkwardly, now recalling the large Exceed tom that stood heads taller than both Gajeel and himself, "Bigger…?"

"And I could have sworn you were a statue the last time I saw you," the cat responded sorely. "But it appears we've both gone through changes. If you must know, the dimensional compression properties of Earthland have unfortunately altered my form." His black tail kneaded, reflective eyes observing Cobra with a curious caution. "... You aren't with the Phantoms."

"I'm not," he confirmed.

"Then you wouldn't happen to have the keystones for the runes on the cages, would you?"

"Does it look like I have keys?" Cobra lightly snipped as he twisted to show his own restraints still very much in place.

"You'll have to forgive him, his thinking's not the clearest with the state he's in right now," came the same feminine voice as before, from the lower cage behind Cobra.

The black Exceed's tail kneaded much faster. "I'm thinking just fine, thank you, Unsia."

"Sure," Unsia huffed. "That's why you asked the guy who's tied up for the keys."

As the two Exceed quietly had their disagreement, Cobra glanced to the cages lining the floor of the warehouse and his heart sank upon realizing his partner wasn't among them. If Gajeel had been boxed up with the cats, Cobra would have heard him trying to get his attention at that point. (Or, barring that, Cobra would have heard Gajeel fussing over the literal warehouse of magic cats. Whichever held the iron dragon's attention first.)

"Is all of Rockrose Colony here?" he asked, his attention returning to the pair.

"Most of the colony has been accounted for between guard rotations," Unsia told him, "Except for those who were out of town when we were attacked. Many are injured."

Pantherlily adjusted the grip he had on the bandages on his stomach. "How did you know about Rockrose? Did an official request get sent out to the mage guilds so soon?"

"No," Cobra answered. "It wasn't an official request. A… Dragonslayer child your village has been sheltering came to my partner for help. After the raid." He glanced at Pantherlily. "Ryos Cheney. He's Gajeel's younger brother."

"Ryos did not mention that," Pantherlily frowned in thought. "Though, speaking of Gajeel…"

His ears perked. With everything that had happened, had been discovered, since they had set off for Shirotsume, he didn't need to be able to hear thoughts to guess what that tone meant.

"Let me guess: he was part of the assault on the colony. But he didn't seem to recognize you, he reeked of smoke and vinegar, and he was acting more of a feral ass than usual."

"Yes," Pantherlily skeptically confirmed, his tail flicking.

Cobra sighed, his shoulders slackening. He shook his head. "It's a complicated mess, but… that wasn't him. The man you saw leading the attack was a copy, a magical clone called a fetch. Seems someone's been using it to frame him."

"Haven't seen the big fella since then, but we can't see much with the cages being covered," Unsia said. She finally pulled the edge of the tarp over her crate to the side, revealing only a fluffy, white, black-spotted paw that pointed towards the far wall of the warehouse. "But Ryos… poor thing. He's in one of the cages on the end. Been half-hacking up his lungs since they brought him in last night. Hasn't said a word."

Cobra's lips curled back to expose his fangs, his ears flattening against his skull. If there was one surefire way to earn a death at the hands of the poison dragon it was to put kids in cages.

"I'm going to find something to pry these cuffs open, and then I'm coming back to melt the bars off your cages," he said with resolve.

Unsia again stuck her spotted, long-furred arm out between the bars of the lower cage, the paw making a grabbing motion at Cobra. "C'mere. We might not be able to pick runework locks with our claws, but a pair of handcuffs are kitten's play."


A soft click and the anti-magic handcuffs released his wrists.

His magic returned and for a split-second he enjoyed the rush of energy that swept through him, but so did the cacophony of sounds and thoughts that slammed into his senses like a great wave upon a rocky shore. Immediately, his hands shot up to cover his ears as he doubled over.

"I'm fine," Cobra answered the unasked questions that rung around him, gritting his fangs. "I'm fine. Just. Give me a second. There's… a lot of people in here."

And it was true: a whole village's worth of Exceed, plus the dark mages through the walls beyond - his mind worked to reestablish the mental filter he relied on to sort out so many sounds.

As he got used to it again, he tried to use the noises to his advantage; to get a sounding sense of the layout of the dark guilds' combined base. (Running around blind and wild worked for emergencies, not so much for mounting any form of successful escape or rescue.)

Three stories of a parapeted rectangular structure. Then there was a tower, some sort of keep that rose seven stories from the center of the building. But that was where things got quieter, less sound to rely on. The layout got fuzzy - except for two specific rooms.

One, a large office at the top of the keep; clearly the Revenant's quarters. The conversation taking place within that made the room's presence solid in his sound map. The gloomy inner voice of one man - Aria DeCant, the name of the man's soul sounded even at this distance - while his physical voice betrayed the identity of the other, the Revenant, as being none other than the former Phantom Lord Guildmaster, Jose Porla.

The other chamber was two floors down from the office, almost in the center of the keep, where a gruff voice that Cobra knew all too well seemed to be stuck in an unkind conversation… with itself.

"You're the one strung up all limp-like. You're the one stuck linked to someone you know nothin' about. I don't gotta deal with that drama."

"I ain't stuck." If anything, maybe it's Cobra who's stuck with me… "And what he knows… it's his business."

"Is it, though?"

The Fetch was trying to rile up Gajeel and, from the snarling that echoed throughout that room, was succeeding.

Cobra tenderly rubbed at his temples. Please stop talking to it, he quietly pleaded to the man who could not hear him.

"ARE YOU OKAY?"

He winced at the sudden spoken voice so close to him, turning his attention back to Pantherlily with a nod.

Flexing the fingers of his right hand, violet scales and milky scutes spread across his skin in a red flash. Carefully, he pressed his acidic palm against the runework lock - the glassy paneling smoking and warping under his touch until the cage door popped open.

Then he turned and did the same for Unsia's cage. The molly cat stepped out, her thick white fur lined by black dots and rosettes. She dressed plainly in a navy and white longline top; the bottom of which seemed to have had strips torn from it.

"There's a vent," he said, pointing with his left hand to a dusty rectangular tube that ran along the rafters of the warehouse. "It's big enough for Exceed. Get the grill along the south wall open while I take care of the other cages. It'll be a straight climb seven stories to the roof. Don't exit the vents until then, and don't stop in the perpendicular vents or they'll notice you."

Jade green eyes flashed with some concern. "If it's only big enough for us, then how are you planning to get out?" Unsia asked.

There was a moment of silence before Pantherlily answered with an understanding tone: "He's not."


Red eyes glinted from the shadows of the cage, watching him as he worked.

The metal hinges of the crate hissed and melted, and with a bit of force the damaged door gave way enough for Cobra to remove it, gently setting it aside to prevent it from clattering on the cement floor.

He sat just outside the opened door, giving the boy trapped inside plenty of space to come out on his own terms. He'd been there before; being thrown in and getting dragged out of a cage for any reason, even if being rescued, was not something a child should ever experience.

Gradually - carefully - Ryos scooted to the open door, his hands bound behind him with anti-magic handcuffs. Dark hair frizzy and mussed. Eyes red and puffy. A bruised throat, a handprint that matched the same shape that now spread across Cobra's.

Cobra debated saying something, anything, but decided against it; opting to let the boy have the first word after what he'd been through. Instead, he motioned for Ryos to turn around so that he could destroy the restraints.

These restraints, too, dissolved easily, save for the anti-magic lacrima that bulged out of the half-melted metal like dark pearls stuck in wet sand.

Once free, Ryos inspected his wrists. "You're going after my brother," he hoarsely said, looking back over his shoulder. "I heard Pantherlily."

"He wouldn't- he didn't leave me behind," Cobra said. "And he knows he's not getting out of this one on his own."

Ryos turned to face him. "I want to help."

Cobra shook his head, signaling no, much to the younger dragon's dismay. "Do you know who's running Phantom Lord right now?"

"You and Gajeel said it was someone called Revenant."

"Right," Cobra continued, "But do you know who Revenant actually is? Why he came after you and Gajeel?"

"Gajeel, he- he used to be in charge of their S-class team…?"

"Someone paid Revenant, and, by extension, Phantom Lord, to specifically capture Gajeel alive," Cobra relayed. "And knowing that this 'Revenant' is actually Jose Porla, that makes this a dangerous mix of personal vendetta and profit."

"J-Jose-?!" Ryos's eyes went wide. "Didn't the Council sentence him to twenty years in Blackgate Prison after the war?"

"Supposedly. But he's definitely not there anymore. I can hear him a few floors up from us."

Ryos looked up at him. "So you have a plan, then? Gajeel said you were good at those."

"The plan is to split up. You can hide in shadows," he gestured to the general darkness of the cargo area around them. "So you should search the rest of the building. Try to find a lacriphone or another way to communicate with the outside. You need to contact Fairy Tail and warn them about Porla and any fetches he may possibly have sent, then get to safety with the Exceed. There's an incantation used to dispel a fetch, someone at the guild should be able to look it up in the library." Cobra paused. "I heard Porla using part of the base incantation. It starts by saying Faeccefylgja three times. They should start there."

"No," Ryos rasply protested, "I'm going to help rescue Gajeel."

"Ryos. I'm not suggesting this to brush you off."

"I'm a Dragonslayer," the shadow dragon sorely chirped, "I can do it."

"This is important," the poison dragon firmly countered.

Ryos's eyes narrowed in a familiar, stubborn way. He was not going to budge.

Cobra's ears shifted back, his shoulders sinking as a sigh left him. "Porla doesn't seem like the type who would let his main target out of sight until he's been paid, he's the one guarding Gajeel, keeping him close to his quarters. You know he used to be a Wizard Saint. On top of that he can now make fetches, and you saw, that even when your brother and I were working together, even we had trouble killing one permanently without that incantation."

Cobra could hear the shadow dragon's thoughts waivered somewhere between balking at the proposed plan and knowing that the poison dragon was right.

His even, amethyst gaze met with Ryos's wet garnet stare. "Porla knows you. He knows Gajeel, too. But he doesn't know me. He's not familiar with what I can do or how I fight. In the event I can't get Gajeel out, I might hold Porla off long enough for you to send a warning ahead and escape."

Notes:

Woo! Trafficking scheme foiled, little brother rescued, and now it's time for a totally-not-suicide mission to save the bf! (And some Cobra being good with kids content, too!)

We also met another fandom OC, Unsia the Exceed. If it's not clear enough, she's based off a snow leopard. She's also a size-shifter like Pantherlily and her preferred weapon is a battle axe. :)

Chapter 33: A Prayer in the House of Phantoms

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"If you seek council with dragon kind, know that what you face is a highly durable and intelligent creature that can bring about your death in an instant." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 2

Chapter Thirty-three: A Prayer in the House of Phantoms

"You thought… this'd be an easy job…? Ya didn't stop ta think if I somehow… f-found myself with somebody… didja think that somebody would be weak…? And I'm the stupid one?" A dark, wet laugh rumbled from Gajeel. "GhihihehFuck you."

With every word the creases of Jose's face further deepened. As he turned on his heel to face Gajeel, the tripod lights around them suddenly clicked off. The slow, dying hum of the Phantom base's power followed right after.

"He found the generators," the Fetch mumbled.

Hastily snapping his fingers, Jose pointed at Aria and the Fetch. "Get the power back on. And find that damned elf."

The Fetch's jaw tightened before it left with a curt nod.

"Yes, Master Jose…" Aria gave a solemn bow of his head, his bulking form vanishing into a wisp of wind.

Jose then turned to the tray on the cart, full of bloodied, pulled scales and picked it up. He gave it a little mocking shake in the iron dragon's direction. "Proof of you being alive at capture," he explained. "Your little teammate can turn the lights on and off all he wants. But whether or not we catch him, the timetable for handing you over to my client has just moved up."


From what he could hear, Jose knew very well that Cobra had escaped his cell.

What was left of the generators used to power the Phantom base was barely enough to make the lights in the lower levels flicker.

The poison dragon waited at the back of a dead end hallway, standing motionless in the blinking lights as frantic Phantoms and Mummies panicked past the other end, trying and failing to catch the animals that Cobra had let loose.

The demon expected a dragonslayer to make their presence obnoxiously known, to bust down walls with reckless abandon on a rampage. Which was… a not entirely incorrect opinion, especially if the some of the only experiences someone had with dragonslayers were named Gajeel and Natsu. But Cobra was a different threat. He was another breed, after all.

There had been three in the keep where Gajeel was - with them separated the odds evened out. Cobra was now on a deadline - but even if drawing them out was part of his plan, that didn't mean he was going to make it easy for them to find him.

Taking a deep breath in, he listened.

He wasn't stupid enough to wait by the generators he'd just trashed. With the smell of smoke from the broken machinery wafting through the air and the stench of so many animals filling the halls, tracking him down by scent alone would be nearly impossible for his first target.

Hunting was a crude term for it. He preferred "elimination of targets". It sounded a bit more distant, a bit more cold; if he was going to pull this rescue off, he'd have to keep his mind clear.

Would have to ignore the anger burning in his throat and the breath-robbing ache that had settled in his chest. Ignore the foreign, rumbling he felt trying to tear out from deep within; the worry that threatened to sit heavy inside him.

Boots scuffing on the concrete heading his way was his signal to open his eyes.

A recognizable shape soon loomed at the other end. Six-foot tall with long dark hair; it wore the same tunic and boots, it had the same face - but he knew it was not who it was made to look like.

"I'm not stupid, I know a trap when I see one," accused the Fetch.

Cobra calmly regarded the copy, lifting his chin up so that he looked down upon it from that angle. His boyfriend had a habit of talking too much when he wasn't taking something seriously, it was time to see if the ash clone shared it. "Is that what you think?"

"Why don't you tell me," it snorted in a to–familiar way, yet its face wrinkled too sharply. "Oh, wait, that's right: you can't hear my thoughts."

With a shrug and shake of his head, Cobra took a step forward. "You're not wrong. But you're not right, either."

"Tch."

"See, I've heard that you're not a very big fan of me." Cobra took a few more steps closer.

The Fetch's studded brows arched mockingly. "Aw, did I hurt yer feelings? It's a pretty big club these days, ain't it."

"True that it's a big club," Cobra paused, feigning thought, stopping so that his toes gripped the floor as he shifted his weight ever-so-slightly to the balls of his feet. "But you're supposed to be a copy of someone, someone who doesn't really think that." With a small roll of his eyes, he added: "Anymore."

"I'm not mated to you. I don't gotta worry about that," it growled.

"You know that's not true; Gajeel was sticking his nose in my business long before we were actually linked. A fetch is supposed to be an exact copy, but you're not a very good copy, are you," Cobra cooly stated.

"Says the 'fake' dragon."

"Dragon magic is very old. Older than, say, the concept of a fetch," Cobra continued, coming closer still. "That Old Magic you've siphoned is messing with your effigy core. You not extending your operative order confirms that."

Wary, the Fetch's eyes narrowed as Cobra's words sunk in.

"The order given to you by your summoner. It was only to find me." He held one hand behind his back, white claws and purple scales surfacing, gesturing with the other in a low wave. "Congratulations. You found me. Now what are you going to do, drag me to Porla? That doesn't sound like something Gajeel Redfox would do, considering he got sick of that sack of demon grease a long time ago."

Fingers twitching the Fetch lunged for Cobra, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him forward. "I'm his replacement. I ain't him-"

Pulled within striking distance, poison-coated claws struck the ash clone in the chest as Cobra used the Fetch's motion against it, dissolving it from the center outwards in a haze of red smoke. In a puff of ash, the Fetch's remains scattered to the ground before it had a chance to use the iron scales it had stolen.

"You're right, you're not him." He brushed some dust from his forearm as his scales sunk back into his skin. "You're fair game."


The tripod lights in the corners of the room blinked back to life, once again blinding Gajeel as he winced away from the sudden brightness.

Either Aria or his clone must have rerouted the power. Jose wouldn't stand to be without, those under him having to scurry around in the dark was nothing new.

But neither lackey had returned yet, still likely trying to find Cobra. No news was good news in that situation, Gajeel guessed.

A sharp, acrid scent soon followed the power coming back on. It wasn't harsh in the same way that he had come to know a fetch would be, no vinegar fought its way up his nose. It was more like… the smell of natural rot. Rotting leaves, tinged by a cloying, herbal scent like lavender.

The floor next to one of the lights fizzled with tiny bubbles, chunks of the cement flooring quietly crumbling away like sand as pockets of it dissolved with a reddish glow. A small hole melted open, a familiar, messied mop of crimson red hair peeking out soon after. The pair of dragons sighted one another and Cobra quickly clambered out of the opening.

With swift steps he quickly crossed the space between them. Amethyst eyes widened as he took in the wounds that dotted Gajeel's upper body. The muzzle. The missing scales and hair. The ruddy dried blood, dark against pallored skin…

"What did they do to you," he breathed, brows knitting.

"Should be askin' you that," Gajeel respired. His eyes flicked up and down Cobra's form noting the torn clothes and lack of shoes, the ash coating his chest and arms… He swallowed a particularly tacky lump in his throat at the sight of spreading bruise on Cobra's neck. His body leaned forwards as if he wanted to meet the shorter man halfway, scoop him into his arms, stopped only by the medical table he was bolted down to. "... What're you doin' here...?"

The poison dragon could hear his partner's fluctuating, staggered thoughts ring clear in his ears: You're okay. I'm so glad you're okay. But you're here. There's real danger. You should've run. Should've left me. Not worth it.

Cobra reached up and undid the clasp of the muzzle buried in the back of Gajeel's frazzled raven mane; pulling it away, ignoring the small string of saliva that trailed with it, and dropping it by his bare feet.

"You didn't leave me. No matter how many times I told you to fuck off." Thick lips curved in a manner that underlined the bags under his eyes. Brown fingers brushed back loose, sweat-sticky hair from Gajeel's face and wiped the drool from his chin - Gajeel reveling in the physical touch of his mate, however small - before wiping the sweaty slobber directly on Gajeel's pantleg. "Now we're almost even."

When Cobra's hand retreated, the iron dragon sheepishly looked away. "Not exactly lookin' ta make this a habit..."

Cobra leaned down to inspect the table. The sound of the metal restraints humming and buzzing would have been audible to him even without his hearing magic. Which was… unusual for nullification runes. He willed his scales to his fingers and cautiously, so as to not accidentally graze Gajeel, pressed against the metal - immediately flinching and pulling back his hand when it sparked instead of melted on contact.

"Tampered," he lightly hissed at the magical sting.

He stuck his shocked finger in his mouth, his ears pinning back in thought. If he melted the back of the table, went around the restraints, he could get Gajeel out, but it could also hurt the man further; the restraints would have to be unlocked with a key or physically broken open.

Temperature in the room dropped as chill crept up on them both. They were out of time.

"I trust you," the redhead said low enough for only Gajeel to hear him. He pretended to pay attention to the restraints on the opposite side, seemingly ignoring the way the air pressure in the room was starting to change. The tips of his ears dipped slightly, almost timidly, before he looked back up into the iron dragon's eyes. "... Do you trust me?"

It took a second for the meaning of those words to sink in. If Cobra was running loose for long enough, then he definitely would've heard what the Fetch had been saying - charging him with "using" Gajeel and the like. Still, beyond the stinging of his wounds, beyond the soreness of his muscles in the cold air, as their gazes stayed on one another, Gajeel felt a warmth bloom in his chest.

"What kinda question's that," he grinned in response.

Those words said, it was there, in the space between them, that Cobra spun around, clawed hand closing down on the square face of the wind mage that had apparated behind him. In a whirling motion, he used the momentum of his attacker to send the larger man sailing into the wall across.

Gajeel's grin quickly disappeared. "Di… did you just use me as bait?!"

Cobra glanced back over his shoulder. "And here I thought you trusted me."

 

Notes:

Sorry it's been a while... My new job has been kicking my ass for the past few months. Anyways - the boys have been reunited as a little treat before things ramp up in the upcoming chapter. >:3c

Chapter 34: Dragon Force, pt 1

Notes:

Hey gang, I know it’s been a few months. I was aiming to have this done for Pride Month, but that was a bust… my next goal was to have this done before my birthday (later in July) - great success! Made this chapter extra long for you all but mind the tags: there will be depictions of violence in this chapter.

Also wanted to share this fanart that PencilOfAwesomeness over on tumblr did of Cobra from this fic being extra sassy. Was waiting for an extra sassy Cobra chapter to share it! ;3c

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"While Dragonkin are able to harness basic dragon magics in their day-to-day lives, there are further reaches of their abilities that are more akin to shapeshifting. These abilities are known as Dragon Force and the much rarer Dragon Aspect… Force, where the hybrid offspring will gain physical traits like their dragon parent, is theorized to be attained when a Dragonkin has reached a sufficient mastery of dragon magic and a deep affinity for their personal element. Current research shows that it must be triggered by an event that causes great physical and emotional distress." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 98 + 99

Chapter Thirty-four: Dragon Force, pt 1

A strong gust of wind saw Aria lift to his feet; a hand-shaped tinge of discoloration marred his face, clear evidence of where Cobra had deflected him.

"Why would you dare come into the Phantom Master's chambers, let alone to have a private conversation…?" his voice trailed, as if he were unsure what exactly had unfolded before him.

"... It was private 'til yer spineless ass showed up," a still-trapped Gajeel pointed out.

"Still, what an unwise and unexpected move from a former Oracion Seis. Do you know how many of your sub-guilds Phantom Lord took out before the Nirvana Incident? Are you not worried?"

"Four," Cobra replied factually, the wind mage's attempt at intimidation sliding off him like rain on a window. "None of which belonged to me."

"So you are arrogant, then," Aria decided. "A common trait among Dragonslayers, it seems to be."

Assured? Yes. Arrogant? Not quite. Cobra's ears stiffened, mountain-leveling gaze pointed right at Aria.

"Aria DeCant, age twenty-four. You specialize in air magics, but dabble in Eastern Metsu-style magic nullification. Dropped out of secondary schooling because the other kids kept calling you 'snot-boy'," Cobra listed off as if he had a paper to read from, the summation of what the whispers of the man's essence told his ears. "And Gajeel's right, you are spineless."

Gajeel snorted. "Snot-boy…?"

"Are all you dragons so unkind!?" balked Aria.

Cobra continued: "I can also hear that you also don't have the keys, so you're useless on top of all that."

Air in the room stirred, fluctuating in the wind mage's presence. "I will not be called 'useless' by someone - two someones, even - who gave up when the pressure from the Council became too great."

In a blur the poison dragon rushed forward. A shower of red sparks erupted from where Aria had stood, the large man vanishing into thin air as soon as Cobra's strike had singed his sleeve.

"O-ho! Speed alone is not enough to catch the Wailing Winds, White Snake."

Murmurs of magic in the air betrayed the wind mage's next location, Cobra's ears tracking Aria while his head stayed still. His enemy clearly had a preferred move and clearly did not learn from past mistakes.

Right ear flicking back, he dropped to a low crouch on the floor, easily missing the arms that materialized from nothingness to brand him with a Metsu spell. One leg sweeped back to counter in a blaze of deadly red to push the attacker back.

Aria again disappeared into the wind.

The big guy was faster than Cobra had been expecting; an odd miscalculation on his part. But he'd trained alongside a pseudo-speedster for years. The only way to control the fight against a quick opponent was to reduce visibility and control the field itself.

Cobra took a deep breath, the magic inside him rushing into his chest and lungs. "Poison Dragon's Roar!"

Venomous clouds gushed from his mouth in a red haze full of tiny, burning white lights. He moved in an arc as he aimed his attack not towards his enemy, but to fill the room around his target, starting high and carefully backing his way towards his restrained partner, mindful to keep the air in that half of the keep free from his poison. He was aiming for spread, not power.

Cobra wiped his mouth on his forearm. "You hold a grudge against Fairy Tail because you fell to Titania in the Guild War. Even my weakest venom is enough to stop her in her tracks. Let's see what happens when you touch it."

Trapped near the ceiling, Aria's wind form swirled and hummed. Cobra could hear Aria trying to formulate his next move. The space where the wind mage could attack from had been drastically reduced, and if he tried to use the wind to move the miasma elsewhere it would spread around the keep, leaving nowhere to escape it.

Aria opened his mouth to retort, but Cobra held up a single ivory-clawed, scaled finger.

Aria paused. Less than a second later his meaty fingers frantically began wiping at his own face, hands soon streaking blood red on what skin hadn't begun to blister and melt. His agonized cry echoed throughout the keep, and his bulky form solidified as he sunk like a stone to the cracked cement below before going still.

The poisoned dragon lowered his index finger, switching to flip his middle. "That wasn't some sort of challenge. You had already come into contact with my poison. It was all over your face."

"Or what's left of it," Gajeel commented. His mate had wanted Aria to have no way out before succumbing to the venom and he couldn't disagree. No love lost for his creepy former guildmate, watching time run out on the man pulled no sympathy from the iron dragon. "Doesn't your poison usually work faster than that…?"

"The guy's four-hundred pounds," the redhead whirled around, throwing his arms out to the sides. "Excuse me for not getting the dosage right when I'm also trying to keep you alive."

Gajeel huffed, rolling his eyes: "I was worried 'bout you, too. Now get me offa this table before Jose-"

The tripod lights in the corners of the room flickered as a coldness, thick and heavy, settled over the keep's chambers. What remained of the Poison Dragon's Breath in the air dissipated. It was as if there were an invisible fog intent on choking out all breath and warmth around the two, squashing down any other vapor that might take up space.

A grave silence fell, broken only by the stark, slow clap of tinged, sickly fingers.

Dark mist seeped from the cracks in the stone facade walls and concrete floor, curling at Cobra's ankles. Another flicker of lights and the tall, gaunt outline of the Phantom Master appeared.

"Before I what, Gajeel," Jose's dark lips pressed into a sickly, terrifying smirk.


What little color had returned drained from Gajeel's face. Cobra didn't need to listen to know his partner's inner voice was once again telling him to run - get out of there, leave him behind, this wasn't worth it. That he wasn't worth saving.

I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. He couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud the first time he found himself thinking it. (And Cobra certainly wasn't going to say it now, especially with their current audience.)

But the poison dragon wasn't going to ditch the iron dragon, not this time. Not again.

"Before you made a stupid horror movie entrance," Cobra gibed, his slanted eyes hard, trying to draw attention away from Gajeel as he stepped between his partner and Revenant.

S-classed mages were something Cobra had faced and beaten before, but going up against a Saint, (even a former one), wasn't something he had solo experience with.

He had the back-up of the other Oracion Seis when Jura Nekis of Lamia Scale, the man who had been appointed Jose's replacement amongst the Ten Saints, stood across from them on the battlefield.

Still, cheesing a fight wasn't something he liked to do. Even after taking out the Fetch and Aria, it wasn't going to be close to an even odds. He would just have to think, move faster; hope that being younger than the saggy skin-stretched-on-bones demon man would give him an advantage.

From the way his brows wrinkled, Jose had been definitely expecting a crass comeback… just not from the elf.

"Honestly. How in the world did he manage to find someone mouthier than he is," he commented, looking down his nose at Cobra.

The Revenant was bothered by people talking back to him? Cobra would show him mouthy: "Well, people tend to say more than five words if they're not muzzled, Porla."

"Please, call me Jose."

"No, I don't think I will."

A disappointed tsk clicked from between too-straight teeth. "It's been so long, I had almost forgotten what dealing with an Elf was like. So prideful. So cocky. So many reasons they never made good pets."

Gajeel eyed Cobra. But his mate didn't even flinch, not taking Jose's head-games bait. Someone would have better luck getting water from desert stone than an answer or off-guard reaction from Cobra. The iron dragon cracked a faint grin.

Cobra folded his arms across his chest. "Do you have a point, or is it just old-man-rambling hours at the senior home for washed-up Saints?"

Jose's right eye twitched.

The rage that had been building, dark energy biting at the air around the demon, suddenly evaporated in a manner that Gajeel had only seen from the Phantom Master before some poor soul went forever missing.

"Cobra-!" the iron dragon warned, too late.

Veiled mist erupted in a flash from the ground beneath Cobra. A form of magic unique to demons: curse.

When the mist from the demon's curse attack cleared only a black smudge was left on the concrete.

Jose stood still, his arm outstretched as wisps raced around his long fingers. Sharp frown still on his face, his beady eyes scanned the room.

"This is no time to dance the dawnsio teg, you knife-ear," the Revenant derided. "Stop evading and face me like a man."

"Are slurs the only words you know?" came from the corner of the keep, followed by a tripod light in the corner being cranked to max output.

Quickly placing a hand over his eyes, the Phantom Master sent out a wave of his specter magic, only succeeding in the destruction of the only working lights. Darkness settled over the keep, broken only by the sunlight striking through the broken arch windows above.

Getting Jose to move so fast had given Cobra the answer he was listening for: the key to Gajeel's restraints clinked lightly from Jose's left coat pocket. He'd have to get closer than he would have liked to the Phantom Master to grab it.


Gajeel could still pick out the two of them, between the darkness of the keep and the light of the window; striking at each other between bright flashes of reds and whites, sapphires and indigoes.

Cobra moved quickly - unearthly agility and precise strength on display. Jose, despite how much raw magical power he had, was an older opponent; physically, he could not keep up.

However the demon's magic was far faster than its caster. Blast after blast missed, Cobra too quick - but the poison dragon couldn't get close to the demon, either, as his attacks were deflected by violent black shapes.

And Gajeel was... stuck on that table. A useless liability as Cobra lost inch after inch of ground after each attempt to grab at something in Jose's pocket.

A low growl sat at the back of his throat. Scales prickled at this skin in sparse patches. His fangs glinted as they were bared.

He could only watch.


"Shade Memento," the demon's voice rasped, his ragged face split into a mean grin.

Multiple black figures began to manifest in the keep, their eyes aglow with a cold sapphire color. Cobra blinked, trying to focus on them; momentarily thrown off as what his ears heard disagreed with what his eyes were seeing.

He could pick out Jose on the other side of the room, but the black figures didn't have any sound; except for one that rose from the floor right in front of Cobra, causing him to leap back against the wall.

A deep, yet flat voice emanated from the shape: "You are getting careless again, Cobra."

His heart jumped into his throat as the shape in front of him morphed into that of a tall man in a long navy-blue coat. The man had very dark, dusky skin, raked by intricate tattoo lines that ran down his face and forearms; shoulder-length silver hair draped limply to frame a rigidly blunt face and black, stony eyes.

Looming over him stood Brain.

"Cobra," a voice urgently called to him. Gruff and familiar. And so very far on the edge of his attention.

He had sworn to himself so many times that he would end his former Master. Get revenge for attempting to kill him and leaving him for dead. That he would on sight execute the man who had never forgotten that he owned Cobra and the others, even if they had been foolish enough to think the man who had half-raised them no longer considered them just experiments or property.

So why… why was he on the floor, his limbs shaking and unwilling to move?

"Ya gotta get up!"

The image of Brain continued: "This is why you failed at Nirvite city, was it not? You are letting something trivial once again steal your focus."

Cobra fought dizziness as his own pulse blasted in his ears. Yet… beyond that, something wasn't right.

"Cobra, move!"

The sounds.

The shapes of the sounds as he listened.

The sounds coming from Brain… had the wrong pitch, the way the sounds displaced the air - the way their shapes came to his ears - had the wrong edges.

It was an illusion. One fueled by negative memories and emotions. Jose couldn't mask the auditory parts right. And Cobra had dealt with much stronger illusions, cast by Midn- … cast by someone who paid more attention to details.

As fast as he had figured it out, it was, still, a moment of hesitation on the poison dragon's part. A pause in his assault.

And it was all the former Saint needed.


It happened so fast.

Seeing his mate stumble back, Gajeel felt his breath stall. This was bad. This was very bad.

Jose couldn't outright catch or overpower him, so he made Cobra fight someone who could: himself. Or, whatever in the redhead's mind could stop him in his tracks like that.

"Cobra," the trapped dragonslayer called, again trying to warn his mate.

It was an illusion. Gajeel thought that Cobra had to know it was, right? He had to have heard the attack forming under him, had to have known about the fingers of spectral hands twitching from cracks in the floor.

But that frozen, blank panic was one Gajeel had seen from him before; one he swore he never would see again. Whatever Cobra was being forced to see, that hurt him just to look at, Gajeel wanted to break into fucking pieces.

The pulsating mass of shade hands kept forming, rising from below.

"Ya gotta get up!"

Translucent arms arced over Cobra.

"Cobra, move!" Gajeel barked, pleaded, ordered, putting power behind his words as he thrashed against his restraints.

Finally - finally! - he got through to the other. Cobra blinked, panic clearing from his eyes.

"Shit-!" A somerdault-dive forward saw him dodge out of the main body of ghostly limbs, only to flop onto his stomach as a small, baby-like hand with long, bony fingers instantly closed around his ankle.

Ivory claws carved grooves into the cement as he was dragged back into the hive of hindering hands, where more spectral limbs reached out to grasp at him. Kicks and swipes had no effect on the appendages - with no true physical form, there was nothing for his magic to melt or decay. The mass swarmed over him, forming into a large hand construct that gripped around Cobra and suspended him six feet off the floor.

Gajeel's eyes went wide. "No!"

The poison dragon drew in one last gulp of air, aiming to release a Roar, before the hand around him tightened - squeezing out the breath he had drawn in a pained cough.

"None of that dragon breath business," the Phantom Master dismissed.

No. No, no, no. Gajeel again fought against his restraints. Why didn't Cobra just run, just leave him there? Why did he have to be so drained and useless, tied up like some fucking damsel in distress? Fucking useless!

Jose paid the writhing iron dragon no mind, instead moving closer to his newest catch.

"You know, the last mage from Makarov's collection that caused this much of a headache for me was Titania herself," Jose frowned, the requip mage's name coming out too sharply. "Though, in the end, neither of you could defeat me. A shame. If she could have used a Gods Armor or utilize Nakagami Armor and you had entered Dragon Force, maybe you would have even been a threat."

Murderous, narrow eyes glowered at the demon, but Cobra said nothing, not wanting to give the man any sort of satisfaction.

The Revenant motioned, another shade construct sprouting from the wrist of the large hand. "Making that fetch of Gajeel let me catch up on everything that I had missed while in prison, I learned everything he knew since the Guild War."

Jose's extension adjusted its grip, settling around Cobra's forearm. Suddenly, it viciously yanked the smaller man's right arm back at a harsh angle. A popping crack echoed through the keep as a stifled, pained hiss escaped the poison dragon.

"Including that bad injury of yours. I'll hand it to you, not many can live after being exposed to the black arts, let alone getting run-through by a direct hit. Let's see how much of it you can actually take. That information might be useful to whoever I pawn you off to."

"Let him go," Gajeel snarled, chest heaving with rage. "I'm the one you wanted, remember?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I already have you, you dull-knife of a gecko."

Gajeel's magic had been taken and he was awake by a quirk of the bond with his mate. But what magic he managed to get back was igniting inside him.

Before, he had been split in purpose: get out or survive. Now he had a different and singular goal.

It felt as if his essence was aligning, pulling from someplace deep within - into a singular aim, a singular purpose. Fury no longer wasted, a dangerous sort of unhingement welled within him. Stinging like a thousand cuts, burning like molten metal, an ancient primal fury.

Dark metal scales surfaced his skin and ribbed, iron osteoderms formed on his joints.

His eyes shot open wide, entirely encompassed by a soft silver glow; save for his pupils, which had turned into bright green slits.

A thick, plated tail tipped by a four-pronged, thorny thagomizer wormed its way out of his lower back as heavy wings shot forth from his shoulders - blade-like feathery scales scraping as they coated their exterior. His new, extra appendages added extra muscle - enough to pry his scaled form completely free of his bindings.

The clasps pinning his arms to the slab creaked as he rent them from their backings, bolts popping out with groaning protest.

His facial and body studs turned to short, blunt spikes. Two stout, armored horns arched back from his skull; one centered from where his hair had been ungraciously cut.

He leapt from the table to his now-beclawed feet, taking only a split second to adjust to the way his weight settled on stocky digitigrade legs.

Glowing, inhuman eyes fell to his former Master.

His upper lip peeled back to bare larger fangs and sharper teeth. Gajeel's answer came in the form of a guttural, feral roar - a roar that did not damage Cobra's ears, even beneath its deep, metallic tones.

"Get," he exhaled menacingly, "Away from him."

Notes:

[gets out megaphone] Gajeel should’ve been the next one to get Dragon Force in canon and the Force forms should’ve been more dragony. (But I still really like the idea that he first accesses it trying to save someone he looooooooves cares about.)

I wanted his Force design to play more off his studs/piercings technically being spikes/osteoderms as a side-effect of being half-dragon in this fic. It's like he's covered in little blunt needles. (There’s going to be a lore reason for this that we’ll see really soon.)

Chapter 35: Dragon Force, pt 2

Notes:

I've been chewing on this chapter for a while. I hope you like it! It gets a little trippy here and there and there is mild description of disassociation.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Many researchers believe that Dragon Force and Dragon Aspect are when Dragonkin tap into the remnants of the Primordial Ether… untamed proto-magic. This is not to be confused with an Origin, the source of magic for individual beings." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 98

Chapter Thirty-five: Dragon Force, pt 2

Taller, bulkier, shinier - even through the draconic features, the half-creature was still recognizable as Gajeel by the long mane of raven hair, now-spiked facial studs, and square of his stance.

The iron dragon had no idea what he, himself, looked like in full. He only knew what he felt like. Big. Powerful. Unstoppable. Very, very pissed off.

And… off.

He examined the thick claws and heavy, weighted scales that adorned his hands - so familiar yet somehow so much realer than what he was used to. His feet and legs, too, had warped into an uncanny form. It was like wearing armor while standing on stilts and watching a movie at the same time.

"Since when can you enter Dragon Force?! " Jose decried, his voice cracking in the same tone as a child who saw another get a better toy. The comment dragged the iron dragon's attention back to his former-boss-turned-enemy. "You never were able to get close before, why are you able to do it now! "

Gajeel exhaled in a short, disapproving snort. 'Cause fuck you that's why , he wanted to say, but the words seemed to get lost somewhere between his brain to his mouth.

What did make it from his brain to the rest of him was a claws-first lunge at the demon before him. Jose dodged, if barely - gleaming metal claws cleanly sliced through mulberry coattails and nothing more. Gajeel twisted, slamming down the thagomizer at the end of his tail into the floor where the Phantom Master was again missed by the tattered threads of his coat. The building shook with the impact.

Claws again struck out at Jose and the ex-Saint stumbled, but caught his footing. With a grasping motion he commanded the shade hand construct, the poison dragon still clutched in its dark fingers, between himself and the iron dragon.

Sharpness shot through Cobra's side with the rough movement. His shoulder was clicking and the pain in his side - pinching and itchy under his skin - meant he definitely had at least one broken rib. A low, stifled hiss escaped him; getting suddenly dragged across the chamber not helping with his injuries.

Green-silver eyes flashed back to red for a split-second, widening when faced with his caught mate. A harsh, metallic bellow was the only answer to Jose's threat, pronged tail again pounding into the cracking concrete. Cobra tried to recoil from the too-close noise, causing Gajeel to flinch, tense, and back away.

"That's right," Jose gloated. "Remember who's in charge here. Try that again and I'll crush him."

Agitated, Gajeel raked his right hind-claws against the floor, like a bull waiting to charge at a target it hadn't picked yet. Cobra didn't need preternatural hearing to know the other was working out how much of the threat was viable and how to get around it. The iron dragon was still coming into how to move in his transformed state, something Jose didn't have to worry about… on the ground. That's it! Aside from a new thickly-armored form, Gajeel now had something attached to his back, something Jose couldn't contend with: wings.

"If that were true, you wouldn't be threatening to crush me," Cobra remarked, ignoring the way his ears rang and his body wanted to wince with each breath. "You clearly need him alive for something. So. You've gotta fumble one 'payday'."

The shade-hand tightened, again squeezing the breath out of him. "Running your mouth won't make me break concentration and drop you."

"N-not my fault if it-" Cobra wheezed, looking Gajeel in the eye, "If that fact flies over your head. "

Understanding dawned on the iron dragon. He splayed out his new wings in full, their extra height towering overhead, before sweeping them down as he launched upwards. Dust and debris clouded the air from the take-off, only to scatter as a rally of pointed spears - Iron Dragon's Lance - rained down towards the Revenant.

Again Jose evaded, securing a stable position against the wall. With a wave of his hand, cursed mist ushered away the remainder of the dust smokescreen to reveal a sheet of spears stuck fast into the floor where he had just been.

"Dragon Force or not, you're still no match for me, Gajeel," he leered up at the Dragonslayer.

But Gajeel did not look at him, his wings continuing to flap to keep him aloft, but his eyes instead surveyed the range of his damage. Namely, the area closest to where he hovered. Jose followed that line of sight to the shade construct, its base and lower portion almost completely quilled by iron spears. With so much disruption to its shape the shade hand dissipated, and its captive was released.

Cobra grasped one of the poles, using it to steady himself as he got back to his feet. His injured arm was slack, limp and stiff from the shoulder down. Violet scales crawled up the other.

Seeing his mate freed, the iron dragon chuffed. Scales and bladed wings seemed to puff out, metal hackles raising. Glowing eyes fell again to the demon and Gajeel dove out of the air like a bullet, slamming them both through the floors below until they crashed to the very bottom.

He stood over the Phantom Master in a circle of cracked concrete, straightening as he pulled his claws out of the meat of the demon's shoulders, dark blood painting the ends.

Weakly, Jose held up his shaking, tinged hands, seemingly in defeat until the walls began to glitter with masses of dark, writhing shapes. "Dead Wave."

The attack came from the darkness of the room, from everywhere and nowhere at once. Gajeel could only shield himself with his arms and plated wings. He expected to be hit with pain, burning, agony… He cracked an eye open, realizing that the torment after the dark flash never came. The attack was still happening, he was inside it, but the energy didn't sink into him. The dark magic rolled off heavy dragon scales like a river against a boulder, his scales reflecting the dark, shimmering crackles of energy.

It felt like he was seeing through the eyes of a lone star shooting through the night sky.

It was… somehow familiar. It was mesmerizing. It was disorienting. It was dizzying. As the magic finished washing over him, it felt like his mind just… fell asleep.


Dropping down from floor to floor of a building with only one arm and one or two broken bones was normally something he could will himself to endure. Normally .

But time was not on their side, not if the iron dragon stayed transformed that way for much longer.

In truth, he had been trying to signal to Gajeel that he should take to the air and stay there . Gajeel had gotten the air part, but he hadn't been thinking anything before he dive-bombed Jose. His inner voice only sounded with what Cobra would describe as the general intent to kill.

Which wasn't good. Dragon Force was a powerful quasi-draconic state, half-impossible to enter - and even harder to deactivate. And that was just for the first generation, those born with dragon-blood like Gajeel…

Neither his partner nor the Revenant were aware of it - but Cobra could hear it. The rebar in the concrete, the thick beams that braced the walls, the very nuts and bolts of the structure that held together the building - it all reacted to Iron Dragon Force, reverberating in Gajeel's transformed presence.

The iron dragon's rampage was going to bring the Phantom Lord's base crumbling down around them.

He's going to get himself crushed! Cobra's own thoughts kept cycling with that information. It kept him going. He only stopped to crouch behind a section of fallen wall to shield himself from the Phantom Master's last blast.

"Gajeel!" Cobra called down to him.

The iron dragon stood there, eyes big and unfocused, his defensive posture laxing.

"Leave him! We have to go!"

But his words didn't seem to register to Gajeel. Even if they did, in an instant it was too late.

For someone who had boasted about wanting dragonslayers in his guild and under his thumb, Jose had forgotten the first thing that someone learned about dragons.

They bite .


Gajeel fought to stay awake and aware of his actions.

But it was like watching a movie through binoculars - distantly seeing through his own eyes - with sounds playing far off in the distance.

Heaving with rage, the iron dragon bore his fangs and roared in Jose's face - a guttural, metallic sound full of years of trapped anger and violent bodement. The sound alone broke the wave of dark magic as it shook the foundations of the building, concrete chunks dislodging and tumbling to the ground. All around the groaning sound of snapping cables and beams echoed.

It was a movie that gradually had fewer and fewer frames, until finally it was like picking out faces he knew in faint photographs. There was a red flash in the corner of one of the pictures, Gajeel dully noticed.

Flesh easily parted as metal razor fangs sunk in, slicing through sinew, crunching on bone.

Sulfur-tasting blood washed over his tongue.

Distantly, a voice called from somewhere behind him: "Poison Dragon's Guard!"

It all faded black.


Hey. Wake up.

Please wake up. I know you're not dead, I can hear your heart still beating. That's something, I guess.


It's not the same sound if you're not
you , though.


I'm sorry I didn't tell you…


Gradually, Gajeel grew more aware of his surroundings. He was not where he had been, somewhere in the bowels of a revived Phantom Lord; instead, he sat on a very familiar throne. Around him, the Fairy Tail guildhall was in a state of disarray, chairs and stools and tables toppled over, dishware and trash strewn all over every surface.

Did they have a party while he was away or something? Figured. He never got invited to the fun stuff. Even when he was a kid…

Every time he blinked, his throne grew smaller until it was like he was sitting on a little plastic version made for a child.

"You look constipated," a deep, gravelly, metallic voice rumbled from above him.

Suddenly Gajeel was sitting on claw-carved stone and looking up at the roof of a cavern. He could hear and smell the rain falling outside; saw the water falling on orange, browning leaves. He heard the wind going through the iron ore valley that lay just over the next ridge.

"But maybe that's just yer ugly mug," the voice concluded, amused.

Gajeel knew that voice. He had been on-and-off searching for the source of that voice for seven years.

"... Dad?"

Notes:

This last period of no-updates was pretty long. Some of you may already know from tumblr or discord, but my mother had a big spinal surgery and I had to go across the continent to take care of her for a while. She recovered slower than expected but is now well and back to herself. It was a very stressful time, I just didn't feel up to writing for a while before, during, and after it. I really some time to decompress from it all. I should hopefully, maybe, have some more frequent updates this time around. <:3c