The Beautiful Thing About Princes and Queens

by Lady Norbert

A/N: I think I can hear a few of my longtime readers saying "Here she goes again..." If you're waiting for an update on either Alistair or Mirana, I promise I have not given up on those stories! I've been devoting most of my writing energy to my actual novel lately, but I got sucked into Fairy Tail and somehow this ended up demanding to be written.

I'm new to the fandom and I might get some facts wrong in the course of this fic, but I'll do my best to get everything right. I promise! :) Thank goodness for wikis.

The story title and all chapter titles are lyrics from the song "Young and Naive" by Heather Rigdon. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why, except that it's the only song we play in the store where I work that I can sing from beginning to end (the fact that it's in English helps) and I had the words stuck in my head when I was searching for titles.

As usual, this is all Andrea's fault. Well, maybe not, but it's fun to blame her. Special shout-out to all my Fairy Tail-loving internet peeps, and thanks to my beta readers Jess and Veronica!

Chapter One: Straight Out of a Dream

Mystogan studies the exterior of the building before him, bathed in full daylight and draping him in its giant shadow. The architecture is large and sprawling, which he does have to acknowledge is appropriate enough; the guild membership has been steadily expanding, due in no small part to Makarov's willingness to open the door to most anyone. The turrets stretch toward the sky, flags clinging to them as their colors dance in the breeze, and the whole structure radiates an aura of something like joy. Above the door, the fanciful carved script proclaims the name of the wizarding guild who dwells within its walls.

Fairy Tail.

It is his first visit to the guild since the reconstruction was fully completed. More than that, it is his first visit since his combat with Laxus, and thus his first visit since he accidentally burdened Erza Scarlet with knowledge he never intended her to have. He did not expect, when he entered Kardia Cathedral to confront the guildmaster's renegade grandson, that Erza and Natsu would interrupt the proceedings, and he certainly did not expect that he would come unmasked in the course of the battle. This is his first time coming home since the "fairy queen" learned that beneath his concealments, Mystogan's face is identical to that of the man she knew in childhood as Jellal.

He knows the name well. It is, after all, his own. But not here. In Earth Land, he is Mystogan, and only Mystogan. Prince Jellal belongs to Edolas, a shadow of memory that sometimes feels like a half-remembered dream. He left the name behind when he left his home.

He does not always use sleep magic when he comes to the guild; sometimes he uses other methods to slip into the building and remain undetected by most. Perhaps now that Erza has seen his uncovered face, the deception has become unnecessary. She was nearly the entire reason for the subterfuge, after all. They do not know one another well, he and Titania, but they are guildmates of equal rank and Mystogan has always been protective of his Fairy Tail family. Since his exile from Edolas, the lost prince has had no others to call by that name.

Fairy Tail is the reason he has done many of the things he has done in recent years. It is the reason he hid his face to spare Erza her trauma, the reason he methodically and single-mindedly decimated the outposts of Phantom Lord, the reason he returned to Magnolia as soon as he learned of Laxus's insane bid for power. All for the sake of his guild.

For his guild, and for one other, more singular reason.

It may well be that he no longer needs to use the sleep magic for Erza's sake, but he decides to employ the spell all the same. Fond as he is of his guildmates, he has never been much for conversation with most of them, and the visit will be much swifter - and less laden with questions - if he puts them all to sleep first. Besides, from what he has heard about the guild members' activities in the battles against Laxus and his devoted Thunder Legion, a little extra rest can only do them good.

As he enters the refurbished, expanded hall where his guildmates gather to drink and carouse, the enchantment precedes him, felling them harmlessly one by one. They slump on the tables and slouch in their chairs, one or two going so far as to slide all the way to the floor. Only Master Makarov has the magical strength to resist, and the little man sits calmly on the bar. He watches Mystogan's approach with sharp, shrewd eyes.

"I heard you were part of the little Harvest Festival misadventure too, Mystogan," he remarks.

"Briefly. I should have stayed longer, I suppose, but circumstances forced my premature departure. Laxus has been exiled, I understand?"

"Sadly, yes."

"And the others? No one was too severely injured?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, everyone took a pretty rough hit." Makarov scans the room, his expression affectionate and fatherly. "They each helped destroy the Thunder Palace; the body link magic got them good. Erza was hit the hardest, she took on two hundred of those electric devils by herself."

"But she will recover?"

"Already has, for the most part. You saw the Fantasia Parade, I presume?"

Mystogan nods. He too surveys his surroundings, taking in the sight of his peacefully dozing comrades. His scrutiny skips from one face to another - the ice mage, the dragonslayers, the artist, the gunslingers, the celestial wizard who has brought light to the guild, and everyone in between. He visually maps out a path through the room that ultimately leads him to the stage, where Mirajane has fallen asleep mid-song. Her chin has dipped forward to her chest, her beautiful silver hair curling delicately around her face and shoulders. Once his wandering gaze reaches her, it rests, lingering on the pale pedestal of her elegant figure.

"So the demon has resurfaced?" he asks Makarov.

"Well, I wasn't there, but yes. From what I'm told, she had reason to believe that Fried was going to outright kill Elfman," the master replies. "Her powers reasserted themselves in order to save her brother. But she seems to have complete control over them once again."

"She is unharmed, then."

"No more the worse for wear than anyone else, and no less sweet than she's ever been."

"That is well." Mystogan keeps his tone deliberately neutral.

Makarov's lips twitch; he is not fooled. "Tired, though. Of course, we all are. Even she was weak enough to succumb to your sleep magic. But you expected that, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Answer me this; I'm curious. Why don't you just say something to her? Why hide yourself away?"

"You know why, Master." Mystogan adjusts his cowl to better obscure his mouth and jaw. "We both know I won't be here forever."

"Who among us will, my boy?"

The younger wizard offers no reply, and Makarov seems entirely unsurprised. Mystogan can feel the master's eyes following him as he moves away silently. With steps as soft as breathing, he makes his way through the guild and up to the second floor, where he plucks an assignment from the S-Class job board. He reads it as he descends, tucks it away into the folds of his garments, and nods to Makarov. "Until next time, Master."

"You know where to find us."