The Price of an Embrace

Kiss me sweet when it's raining bullets.
Embrace me calm through the violent storm.
Let our bodies find final comfort in the cold.
So, when all is lost to darkness,
And the vestiges of light are possessed
by the blind eye of a hurricane,
Even then, darling, hold me tight and never let go.

Worried. Apprehensive. Itchy? No, those weren't the right words. Erza sighed. Times like these she wished she had a pocket-sized Lucy to talk to, or even a pocketable Levy. They would be able to help her. What was that word she was looking for; it was on the tip of her tongue. Anxious? Impatient? Antsy? Restless?

Restless! That was the million-jewel word she was tirelessly wracking her brains for. Erza felt restless. 'Great. So now what?' She stared at the gently bobbing ceiling, following the slow movements with dull eyes.

Laxus was still resting back in Hargeon under Wendy's care, who was seeing to his slowly-stabilizing condition. But Erza felt anxious under 'house-arrest' and was anxious with the war still looming over them. It was upon the requip mage's request of being nearer to the battlefield, and ready to head back into it once she was better recovered, that she was moved. Wendy was vehement on her staying, as were her friends from Mermaid Heel, however after much persistence they allowed her to be moved to the calm forest grounds between Magnolia and Hargeon.

Of course, the move was not done alone and they only allowed her to do it under the supervision of someone specifically appointed by Wendy. So, with the new medic tent up, injured mages on the allied side filtered in and out for some quick wrapping and healing under Sherria's care. Erza watched her work in silence, bestowing nothing but smiles and words of encouragement as she saw to her passing patients.

However, in a matter of hours, the calm was replaced by a looming dread.

The flow of mages to the tent trickled down to nothing. It was not long before word came in that the tides were changing and what was once an allied victory was a hesitant standstill. Someone or something powerful was moving into the allied territories with another fleet of Alvarez foot-soldiers and with every passing moment, the magical force of it leapt higher and higher. The strongest mages present in Hargeon – their friends – went forth to face the oncoming adversary but the chances of successfully facing the enemy was slim.

Although her magic was lost, Sherria's endurance and proficiency in hand-to-hand combat were not. Erza insisted on also going but the girl would hear none of it, putting up a good, dogged fight against the equally stubborn requip mage.

After a minute of heated arguing, Erza relented and the younger girl swept out. But, in the emptiness of the tent and so many hours without any hint of how her friends were faring, she wished she had gone anyways.

'So, what's stopping me now?' Nothing. There was no one to stop her from joining the battle. 'Oh.'

Erza knew, recovery or no recovery, wars waited for no single person to heal. War was not pretty poetry, it was cruelty and did everything but determine who was right. However, it did determine who was left standing and she would rather die alongside comrades than live with the guilt and remorse of pointless what ifs.

Then again, she also had to win because defeat at the hands of Alvarez and Zeref would bring results worse than the catastrophes of war.

Resolved to return to battle, she wriggled her fingers and toes, eager to get out of bed and back in the fight.

Suddenly, Erza felt a spike of magic in the atmosphere. It was enormous and intensely concentrated, rushing forward with a barely discernible trajectory at an impossible speed. The heated nature of it told her much about the potential attack. She hadn't even managed to get up when the on-coming magic closed in and she immediately requipped into the protective Adamantine armour. Gritting her teeth in preparation for the oncoming impact, she was astonished instead when only the tent's entrance whipped open in a blinding flare of gold.

"ERZA!" Her eyes widened, hardly believing her ears.

"Je-Jellal," she gasped in surprise, instantly dropping her guarded stance and changing back out of her hefty armour. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

Erza ogled his tattered state and slipped out of her blankets, pushing past the bursts of pain in her alarm. Though she was intent on making her way to him, she never got the chance to do more than sit up as hastily he stalked over to her. The entrance flapped behind him noisily while panic smothered his eyes. She managed to get to her feet, albeit shakily, to meet him just as he approached her bed.

The injuries to his head and shoulder looked fatal. Deep crimson matted his dark hair and dried over the angles of his jaw. His shoulder, on the other hand, looked like it was freshly wounded; the shredded, stained sleeve revealed a deep gash that continued to bleed. Wrenching her eyes away from his wounds, Erza grabbed her blanket and tore off a long, wide portion. Jellal lifted his arm wordlessly and let her wrap the make-shift dressing around him several times, watching her tie it securely on the precipice of his shoulder.

When she was done, Jellal's hands instantly reached out for her and she stepped towards him. As his hands cradled her face, the many thoughts and questions she had died on the tip of her tongue.

He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, giving her heavily bandaged state an anxious once-over. Compared to himself, Erza didn't think he had much to worry over; her bandages had not bled through since they were last changed and truthfully, she didn't feel too bad herself. Yet she couldn't bring herself to say the words, haunted by the defeat in his eyes and the blood on his clothes.

Seeing a reflection of himself and his anguish slowly colour her eyes, Jellal shook his head and tried to find his voice to speak. What could he say? What was there left to say?

"I was separated from the rest of the battalion," he whispered to her, leaning forward to touch their foreheads together. The solemn mask he faithfully kept cracked down its centre and her heart broke at the frustration and helplessness seeping through. Erza's hands quickly went up to hold him, too. "Ultear, Meredy and even your friends… I don't know what happened to anyone. I didn't even manage to get a glimpse of the enemy! They attacked so suddenly and it happened so fast. I… I…" He trailed off, grinding his teeth together with a frustrated curse.

Jellal wilted, collapsing against her, his body trembling viciously. Erza closed her eyes and ran her fingers through his hair. "It's not over yet. So we can't give up yet either." But she also heard the echo of explosions not too far from them and knew he heard them, too. The crackle of a potent dark magic filled the atmosphere, growing stronger and stronger.

No matter, they could still fight; they had to.

Breathing deeply, he straightened himself up and slipped his fingers between hers, not willing to stray away from her any more. It warmed Erza to see such confidence back in his gaze.

When they met eyes, he was not surprised by her unfaltering gaze. "As long as I am anchored to this war, as long as I'm alive, I will fight." Another explosion sounded in the distance, albeit closer this time.

"A sign of strength." She smiled, her stomach fluttering; he remembered her words. Erza squeezed his hand and he mirrored her expression with gentle adoration, leaning his forehead against her again. Even as Jellal brought her hand up to his lips, her bronze eyes held his, glinting in the breaks of light that slipped through the wears and tears of the flimsy shelter. He kissed her bruised knuckles and blistered palm. "I'll follow you to my last breath."

His mouth lingered on her skin and Erza felt her heart pound. She wondered if he could feel its rhythm underneath his fingertips. Feeling emboldened, she slid her hand into his hair and pulled his head down, closing the space between their mouths firmly.

This time, with his fingers splayed against her back and tipping her face up, he didn't back away. With her fingers threading through his hair and lips fervently working against his, she didn't let him.

The paradise of shared breaths and eager mouths was short-lived. The next explosion sounded and the ground beneath them quivered in its wake. Erza went back down on her heels, breath quick and eyes alight with a fire Jellal wished he could watch burn forever.

"We won't lose." Her words made him want to fight for that forever.

He watched the spark in her eye grow and flourish around her, magic cocooning her entire body in a warm, golden glow. He was well-versed in the nature of magic; how it flowed freely; how it could be harnessed and conducted in the manners executed by the wielder. Erza treated her magic with esteem and formed a mutual contract with it, channelling it with the intention of justice and integrity for those around her. It started from her core, intensely concentrated, and blossomed out at the advent of her intricate requip seals. It only ever lasted a second, but the sheer force and brilliance of her power never failed to amaze him.

A second of her warmth underneath his hands was enough to renew Jellal's courage and determination all over again.

Erza stood without armour, hands flexing around the signature golden-hilted katanas. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, which happened whenever she requipped into the particular garment. The vision of her soaring through the air, swords at the ready and red hair trailing after her, sat behind his eyes clearer than day.

"I believe you."

They simply held each other, cherishing the heat and closeness of their bodies, when the world outside went quiet. Everything from the howling winds to the distant sounds of battle died down to an eerie stillness. With the realization that the enemy was upon them, they let each other go.

Then, all at once, the world went to hell.

Their enemy was strong. So strong, that they were unable to see the face behind the ruthless attacks that followed a chilling, silken voice, commanding assaults at them without pause.

Flung around here and there when caught by a blast of magic, the two mages weren't given as much as a chance to attack and were forced to assume defensive stances. They watched in mutual horror as old wounds reopened and new ones afflicted them but every time they tried to near one another, they were forced back again in thick clouds of rubble.

With a roar, Erza stabbed her blades into the earth as deeply as she could, clasping their hilts. No sooner than she grounded herself, he lost his footing and hurled backwards. "Jellal!" Thrusting an arm out, she caught him by the sleeve and dragged him back to land.

After planting his feet, he clambered up her extended arm and hurriedly wrapped himself around her. Her long scarlet locks whipped around them, the only discernible colour against a hazy wall of debris. Holding her body closer to his, head tucked against his neck, Jellal lowered them to their knees. Everything from sound to sight became a turbulent blur around him; the only thing he could sense was the way Erza's nails clung to his back, lips quivering and breath shallow.

There was a gigantic force of magic building quickly around them; it hummed an anthem of finality. But they were spent of both the magic and physical strength to fight any longer. Helpless and unable to see a way out of their predicament, Jellal wondered why it was that every embrace they shared was upon the precipice of a tragedy. His own heart patronized him.

'We won't lose.'

Erza never heard his words but she felt the motion of his lips as they travelled from her hair to her throat and her ear, memorizing their texture, shape, and heat. It took her a second longer to decipher their slow, smooth movement and what secrets Jellal was attempting to depart in this last minute.

Her breath hitched and she couldn't help the strangled sob that climbed its way up her throat, overwhelmed by her emotions. She clutched at and carded his hair, resisting the shudders that wracked her body. On the brink of death and he chose now to confess his feelings. He was such a fool; but, damn it all, if she didn't adore him because he was her fool.

Hot tears spilled onto his neck and as she answered him in the same manner, murmuring breathlessly into the curve of his ear. The weight of an entire lifetime dissipated as he felt her smile into the very syllables of his name. Jellal closed his eyes, falling prey to both mind-numbing elation and an exquisite pain. Is this what it felt like to have freedom?

Existence and evil be damned, Erza thought. If annihilation in the battlefield was how they were meant to die, then so be it. Her friends were still out there, fighting, and she knew they would win. As for her and Jellal, fate was hardly recognized for being compassionate towards them. At least, as a last act of kindness, or perhaps charity, they could die with each other.

There was a flash of white hot pain and they felt the world around them go up in ruins, blinded by the brightest lights.

Obliteration or whatever the hell it was; Erza and Jellal had not lost.

Author's Note: So, this is my contribution to Day 1 of Jerza Week 2016, the prompt being Embrace and it takes place post-chapter 484. Although, what I wanted to be something positive and happy for these two, for once, it turned into something angst fest worthy. Please excuse the awful title, I don't think I'll make that mistake again.

Hope you enjoyed this! You can also find this on my Tumblr, which I've provided a link for on my profile. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it so, please don't hesitate! :)

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