King Mystogan

Disclaimer : well, duh, Fairy Tail does not belong to me. Otherwise Jellal would not have such a cruel fate and Mystogan would have kicked the sorry asses of Laxus and the King of Edoras himself. But I thank Hiro Mashima for this wonderful manga! I love it!

I hope you will like this little fic! Also, please tell me if some things are not grammatically correct, because English is my second language. Enjoy your reading and dream of Erza/Jellal awesomeness!

1. Mystogan

She did not like him, not one bit –she despised him with such a strong force! Only a woman as fierce as her, as fierce as her own red flaming hair, could permit herself to spit at his name –him, the King.

Erza drew her knees to her, hugging them tightly as she looked at the sleeping figure of her King, his labored breathing, the sweat rolling down his blue locks, the slight grimace of pain that tensed his usually soft features. The fire she had lit between them wasn't strong enough to stop the darkness from the cave to creep on them, not even strong enough to keep him warm, and she could see him shivering in his slumber. It was an odd weight, this feeling of darkness, coldness and unknown, one weight she did not like to feel. She was made for battle, not for playing hide-and-seek with a whole squad of assassins. But there were no way she could get out of here, not when the king was that injured.

"I hate you," she murmured in the dark, narrowing her eyes.

She did hate him, really. This pathetic excuse of a king…

Prince Jellal had saved their world a year ago, as they said. She knew otherwise, he was the one who ripped them off their magic, she was sure of it. A few months later, he was crowned king under the name of King Mystogan the first, as there had been so much Jellals before, and this was a new era; but she knew that wasn't the real reason. He only was uncomfortable with this name –Jellal- that he hadn't used for himself for most of his life. Yes, he was a poor little, sissy, whiny wizard, lost without his magic, utterly afraid of people and not even trying to raise his voice in the terrible racket his own counselors made.

King Mystogan, a good king? Tch! He didn't fit at all. At all. Much too shy of a person.

A soft coughing was heard in the dark, shaking her off her thoughts, and Erza stood up, watching him with careful eyes. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood running down his chin, and she hurried herself next to him, taking a damp cloth to wipe it with extra cautious –she felt as if he was going to break like a poor, pathetic porcelain doll.

"Are you okay, King Mystogan?"

She never called him "My King", neither did she call him "Your Highness", as she did not recognize him as a king, and even less as a great one.

Mystogan did not respond, and she realized with some worry that he wasn't asleep anymore –he was unconscious. This situation was getting worst and worst by any passing minute, and if Hughes' squad rescue did not hurry and find them soon, the assassins would reach their goal. And there was no way this was happening with her, Erza Knightwalker, Champion of Edolas and Grand General of all armies. No way.

"Don't you die on me," she snapped between gritted teeth.

She carefully laid an armored finger on his bloody lips, frowning as his weak breath almost did not cause the metal to steam up. She took off both of her armored gloves and threw them on the floor, hating him even more for that, for she felt naked when unarmored. Fortunately she could still keep her cuirass, even if her clothes underneath were still moist from their fall in the river a few hours before.

She changed the wet cloth on his forehead, pressing her free hand on his neck, trying to feel his pulse –it was really weak. Just like him.

"You should never have become King of this land," she said in a serious tone.

She meant it.

"You should never have become King of this land."

King Mystogan raised his calm stare from his paperwork, lifting an eyebrow with surprise.

"I beg your pardon, General Knightwalker?"

"I said you shouldn't have become the King in the first place."

"I heard that, thank you. But didn't you forget to announce yourself before entering?"

"I don't see why I should be doing so. Only great Kings are worthy of my respect. You are nothing else than a little wizard, a sorry excuse of a prince who fled to Earthland instead of fulfilling his duty. And now, without your magic, you aren't even worth a wizard anymore."

She sat on his desk, her armored leg right under his nose, preventing him of ignoring her as he was doing so before during her little rant. She continued in a hard voice:

"Just…what are you worth of now? Miss your little friends from Earthland Fairy Tail?"

Mystogan's quill trembled, only for a fraction of second, but that was enough for her to see it. She smirked and leant in, their faces only inches apart, which forced him to look up at her.

"Do you even need help in something as simple as signing your own name? Oh, right…"

Her armored fingers closed around his wrist, as merciless as claws.

"…it does mean to bear a great responsibility, to sign as a King…no wonder that you're that afraid."

Mystogan's eyes narrowed, their green color shifting into a darker shade.

"Get out."

She had the urge to answer him to make her do so, but decided against. She would keep this fun for more suited times.

Erza smirked at the memory. More suited times…just like the one when everything had turned wrong during a meeting with the counselors. Mystogan had proposed new initiatives for the people, but the counselors, being rich, fat merchants and aristocrats, had protested vehemently against it. This one time Mystogan had not been able to speak at all, and Erza was the one who had made them all shut up.

A deafening silence filled the room as the counselors quivered under the hard glare of the Grand General. Erza smirked at them, her foot still on the large meeting table, her gold and chocolate robes cascading from the steel cuirass around her bare leg. Her sword was still planted in the wood, her armored hand clasped around the polished hilt. Each stare she crossed hurried away from her with fear, until she crossed Mystogan's.

His eyes were wide, unbelieving, and held something akin to anger. He stood up slowly, and announced in a very soft voice –a weak voice, decided Erza.

"We all seem to be a little tired here. Let everyone cool down and take some rest, this meeting is postponed."

Without waiting, he left the room, but not without stopping at the threshold of his personal alley and turning around to glare at Erza.

"Ah, and General Knightwalker, please do not unsheathe your sword in this place."

It was at this moment Erza decided to teach him a lesson, and instead of leaving with the other counselors, she followed Mystogan in his private passageway, ignoring the shocked stares the counselors gave her. She slammed the door behind her and rushed towards him, her sword still in her hand. Mystogan gasped with surprise and unsheathed a long dagger, for he never held any sword. Both weapons clashed with violence, and she forced him down the corridor –he was weak, she noted with a smirk, he was completely incapable of standing against her. She doubted that even with a sword he could be more efficient; he was fairly good at escaping and blocking her attacks, but everything about him was too much measured, too much careful, and Erza was a fierce, unpredictable warrior. Even without magic, she held a destructive strength, and it was a matter of minutes before she overpowered him and pinned him to the floor, straddling him, her sword against his throat and her other hand crashing his, making him drop his dagger with a hiss.

His eyes narrowed and bore into hers.

"Just what do you think you're doing, General Knightwalker?"

"My unsheathed sword just saved your ass in that meeting, King Mystogan. I advise you not to try and boss me around when I could easily slaughter you."

He held her glare, his lips thinning in a defying smile –even then, it was still a soft smile, and she hated him for the warmth he spread into her chest.

"And what will you do if I refuse to play your little, childish game, General Knightwalker?"

She bent over him, her breath on his, until his stare wavered with confusion, his already fissured confidence being crashed into tiny pieces. She found him cute like this, and she hated him even more for it.

"I wonder about that" she crooned. "Maybe I could rape you."

His eyes widened, more with surprise than actual fear. He did not fear her, she knew that well, and maybe that was what enraged her the most about him. And then he laughed.

"I'd like to see you try!"

He did not believe her. He knew she wouldn't harm him, because she was faithful to Edoras and would obey its King, even if it was him. And he was right, never would she really do something else than annoy the crap of him. But she could still try to see if he would believe her, even if only for one second.

Swiftly sheathing her sword, she forced her hand down his neck, tearing apart his velvet, embroidered in gold thread cloak, then his silk robes and the shirt underneath, marveling at his soft skin –no, she did not think that. She crashed her lips against his, kissing him in a harsh way, but he did not protest, did not try to push her away. She wanted to scare the shit out of him –but it did not happen. What happened, none of them ever did talk of it again. But somewhere in the kiss, she had loosened her grip, and he had reached for her cuirass and held upon her, softly, but strongly forcing her to stand up with him.

His bedroom was just a few doors away, and both of them knew it. He looked calm and collected, but she could feel his desperate need, and something in his eyes still defied her. She pushed him, not gentle at all.

"Lead the way, Your Highness"

Maybe it was because she did call him "Your Highness" for the first time that he actually obeyed to her. For just that short moment –the walk in the private corridor-, he led her as if he was the one ruling her. But as soon as the door was closed behind her, she dominated him.

She was the one who undressed the both of them, the one who pushed him on the large four-poster bed and sit astride him. She was the one who initiated their hungry, almost desperate kisses, and hasted caresses. But as dominating as she was, she knew she was not raping him –and she felt something tighten in her chest as she caught the loneliness in his eyes, just before he closed them. Angered by the feelings he stirred in her, she kissed hard his neck, making him gasp. It was a sound she absolutely loved, but not until she heard his ragged breath as she rode him with viciously slow and deep thrusts, and she decided the only thing she would ever love in him would be this –these long, deep, rough moans that escaped his throat when she had stopped her teasing and quickened her pace.

It wasn't a gentle love-making. It wasn't even to comfort him. She only sought her own pleasure and did not bother about pleasuring him, but she knew with some pride that she had been good, very good for a virgin. Heh, she was Erza Knightwalker after all, she was gifted in everything she did. As the both of them reached their pick, he moaned in a low, husky voice –ah, maybe he had been a virgin too.

"Erza..."

Shaken from her ecstasy, she shivered and looked down at him, for it was the first time he had called her by her first name. She was sore and sweaty from their love-making, and his nails were still buried in her hips, his knee slightly bent, and her still bestriding him. He shyly looked away from her, panting deeply, his cheeks slightly flushed and she hated him for looking that handsome in this instant. Slowly, she rose, leaving him lying on the rumpled bed. He turned on his side, slowly reaching for a sheet to cover himself as she dressed herself rapidly, wiping the blood that was sliding down her legs.

When she was fully armored, she strode to the door, hardly feeling as confident as her stance made her look to be.

"General Knightwalker" Mystogan called her back.

She stopped, her armored hand on the doorknob, and looked at him from the corner of her eye. She instantly regretted it, and hated him for the sight he gave her. Mystogan was tiredly leaning on his elbow, his tousled blue hair still moist from their activities, the dark tattoo circling his right eye deepening his green-grayish stare. He was so damn beautiful, at this moment, that she wanted nothing more than to come back to him for another round.

"What is it, King Mystogan?" she spat.

"This…never happened."

"Never" she nodded, harshly.

No way people would learn that her, the strong Champion of Edoras, slept with a weakling like him. This was not happening. Even if, deep-down, she knew that by not getting out at once from his private corridor, the counselors who had seen her going in would have made a pretty good guess of what they did.

And so? She didn't like him. She only wanted to fuck a King.

"Erza"

She started at the throaty moan, and bent over him, softly taking the already dry cloth from his burning forehead. He was conscious again, thank God, and was looking at her with feverish eyes.

"Er…za…" he called again, as if he did not see her.

"I am here, Your Highness"

Crap. She called him "Your Highness" for the second time. It won't happen again.

"I…can't…see you…why is it…so dark?"

She frowned, and her heart accelerated at an insane speed. She bent more, only inches from his face, her hand softly stroking his blue locks.

"I am right here, can't you see me?"

" I…I can't…it is too dark…"

His voice broke, and he coughed again, more blood spluttering from his mouth. Scared, Erza held him against her chest, to keep him in a sitting position, as he was drowning in his own blood. She kept her hand on his forehead, feeling his burning fever, and she hugged him tighter, praying hard that the rescue squad would arrive, and fast.

"What did you do to me?" she whined, tears forming in her eyes.

This was not happening. She did not like him.

"Your Highness, the main road has been blocked by trees"

King Mystogan frowned at his soldier, his hand tightening around the clasps of his cloak, as the wind blew with more force, disheveling his hair.

"Trees?"

"Yes, Your Highness. They seem to have fallen because of last night's tempest."

"Amazing! We have no choice, we will have to take another road!" said the General Hughes.

"This is not a good idea," responded Mystogan. "The other road is not only more difficult, but it also passes by very suited places for an ambush. I will not risk that. Let the trees be handled by our soldiers."

"Tch, King Mystogan, think a little," smirked Erza. "Not only will you tire down your soldiers by doing so, but also you will be late. That wouldn't give a good impression to your guest, would it?"

Mystogan hesitated. Hughes scratched his head and added:

"I agree with her. Being late would not look good. And who would ambush us? We have the Champion of Edoras with us!"

The soldiers waited for Mystogan to speak, watching him expectantly. He had no choice but to agree.

Erza felt something burn her eyes. It was her fault, in the first place, if they had taken this god damned road…this road which passed by a precipice and big, perfect rocks for an ambush…

It was her fault if the King had been injured.

"Which river is down there?" asked Hughes, pointing at the precipice.

"Silvershones" answered curtly Erza. "You would know it if you had paid more attention to the briefing."

"Could you please hurry up?" came Mystogan's voice from behind them.

Hughes horsewhipped his mount, while Erza turned to answer shit to her King. But she didn't have the occasion. With sick, hissing sounds, three long arrows passed right by her side to drive themselves right into Mystogan's chest, making him gasp from the violent impact, his eyes widening. In her horror, Erza yelled his name, and jumped from her mount, hurrying over the King; suddenly, the sky darkened with clouds of arrows. Hughes yelped as an arrow stuck into his shoulder, and his mount bolted. Erza caught Mystogan as he fell and she yelled at Hughes.

"Go get some help! The King's wounded!"

The soldiers were falling. Erza could not fight against invisible enemies, not when she had a wounded King in her arms and a rain of arrows falling on her. Hesitating for only a second, she dove into the precipice, having caught from the corner of her eye Hughes breaking through the assassins and fleeing to the castle. She hugged tightly Mystogan as they fell in a harsh splash into the river. Her armor almost drowned her, but she was strong and desperate, and she finally managed in reaching a cavern, pulling Mystogan with her.

He had lost consciousness, and his shirt was already scarlet with blood. She hastily took off his cloak and shirt and tried to stop the blood flow, ripping his shirt into shreds to bandage him. She lit a little fire to dry his cloak and her robes, hoping that the smoke wouldn't be seen by the assassins. She stood naked next to him, pressing her hands against his chest, trying to stop the blood; but the bandage was already soaked with blood, and for the first time, she felt desperate and weak. She was a strong warrior, but she had made a terrible mistake with choosing the right path to take, and she did not know how to cure deep wounds.

Her clothes were still wet when she put them on, as she felt too unsecure without her armor, but she really waited for his cloak to be fully dry before covering his shivering body with it. He was not bleeding anymore, but his skin was burning: he had a high fever.

"Do not worry, King Mystogan," she assured when he opened exhausted eyes and looked at her. "Hughes has managed to escape, surely he will bring back some help."

He nodded weakly before closing his eyes in agony. She watered a cloth and pressed it against his forehead.

"Trust me, King Mystogan. You will be safe," she declared boldly.

A small, mocking smile formed on his lips.

"I know," he whispered softly before falling in a restless sleep, leaving her even more unsecure than before.

What if…what if he…died? That wasn't happening. She was Erza Knightwalker, Grand General of all armies, Champion of Edoras. She would not fail. The King would be safe.

"I failed."

Tears poured from her eyes as she hugged him tightly.

"You are not safe."

She cried harder, her face buried in his neck, the strong smell of blood filling her nose. His breath was ragged and he kept coughing out blood.

"Please don't die on me…"

He stopped coughing and pulled weakly on her robes, his voice croaking:

"Er…za…there is…someone…"

That pulled her out of her distress. A cold shiver ran up through her spine and she carefully laid him down on the floor, her eyes narrowed and her ears careful.

There were there.

Quietly, she reached for her sword, unsheathing it in a swift movement when whistles of arrows cut through the thick silence. She blocked every single one of them and sped into the entry of the cavern, her warrior instincts kicking in, and it was only a matter of seconds before she found out each one of them.

They were trained assassins. Well, she was Erza Knightwalker, Champion of Edoras, Grand General of all armies, and ex-Fairy Hunter. No assassin would escape her. And none did.

When she came back, her sword dripping with blood, she found Mystogan wide-awake, his breath still labored.

"The assassins are no more, my King," she said, kneeling down next to him.

He turned his stare to her, a small smile forming on his lips.

"I know," he answered.

She bent slowly and kissed him, gently, tenderly. His fingers weakly closed around one strand of long, scarlet hair (she had not kept her hair short, for she was quite vain of her hair).

"I trust you," he said softly.

She kissed him again, fighting back the big sobs that were gathering in her throat, but the tears escaped to her control and rolled down her cheeks in a nonstop river.

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped. "I'm sorry, My King, I failed…"

As she went to kiss him again, he closed his eyes and past out for the last time.

To be continued...