Night had come, and the clearing was quiet. Moonlight lit the world in sharp shades of silver, turning the edges of leaves into blades, patterned the ground with shadows. It reflected off the pond beside which she stood, and off of the pale, unclothed back of the man in the middle of it.

If Mavis didn't know better, she'd have thought him a sculpture. He was so still, so silent, and the water was motionless around him.

Then he turned. Dark eyes met hers, a hundred secrets in their depths. Mavis had thought those eyes were so kind, ten years ago, even one year ago after learning his identity. She wasn't sure what to think now.

"You came to find me," he murmured, and there was sadness in the way he said it, not surprise, not smugness. Zeref had known from the beginning. He had warned her that she would bring death, and Mavis hadn't listened.

Mavis wrapped her arms around her waist, fought against the tears threatening to well up in her eyes. "You were right."

He blinked, and rose from the water.

Mavis started a fire not far from the water's edge. It wasn't a cold night, and she could have avoided it, but it was soothing, watching the flames. It felt like Zeira was reaching out from inside her heart, giving her strength, giving her warmth. Tonight, it wasn't enough. She hugged her knees, waiting.

It didn't take very long until she heard the rustle of robes. Zeref took a seat beside her, within the circle of firelight.

"You were right," Mavis said again. She didn't want to remember, but the words spilled out. "Yuriy had a baby boy. The entire guild was so happy."

She had arrived back the guild to the sounds of drunken celebration, the building pulsating with light and music. Only the Yuriy had been allowed inside the birthing room itself. Curious guild members had been plastered by the wall, trying to see inside, especially after the baby began wailing.

"Did you see the baby?" Zeref asked, intent.

She nodded. Mavis had been invited in almost immediately afterwards. She'd congratulated the proud couple, her heart swelling with joy.

Then she'd caught sight of the baby.

He'd been so small, tiny in comparison to her, even though Mavis was slight herself. He'd been wrapped up in a blanket of the softest flannel, a little bundle with just his face poking out, his eyes opening and closing though Mavis knew he could see nothing. Such big, dark eyes. The baby had done nothing so far, but Mavis had known, at that moment, that she would do everything in her power never to take a life again.

All those she'd killed had started like this.

It's because of you that we found one another, Princess, Yuriy had said. His wife had nodded. Won't you give our son his name?

Mavis had touched the family, and right there, in front of her eyes, Yuriy's wife had grown pale.

Five minutes later, she was dead.

"I held her hand," Mavis whispered, "and she died right in front of me. I tried to let go. I tried to seal my strength." None of it had worked.

Zeref didn't say anything for a minute. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Mavis said. When he would have interrupted, she told him, "I know. You taught me Fairy Law. But I was the one who cast it before I should have, and I'm the one who went back to the guild." Her arms tightened around her knees. Despite the fire warming her face, Mavis couldn't help but shiver.

Then there was warmth beside her, too, pressing into her side. It was Zeref's arm, Mavis realised after a moment. She shouldn't have been able to feel it through his robes, but she could feel body heat. Maybe it was his magic. Maybe it was something else. Mavis was twenty-four now, no longer just a girl.

She could feel his eyes on her, but Mavis stared past the fire, into the darkness of the night. The clearing was faint orange, filled with the sound of twigs crackling in flame, shadows shifting everywhere.

"When my curse struck," Zeref said, "I was studying. My classmates and teachers died around me."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Mavis demanded. It didn't; it made her want to throw up, then curl into a ball and hide in a cave.

"I don't know how long you waited to come here," Zeref said, as quiet as she was loud, "but you didn't try immediately. You came now because you want answers."

It had been a year. Mavis wondered if she would become like Zeref, if time would begin to pass without her noticing.

"Maybe it took me a year to find you," she lied.

Zeref just looked at her. "I told you about my curse," he said, "because I've never forgotten how it felt to see all those bodies on the ground. But I'm still living in the forest, because in those three hundred years, I've searched and never found a way to lift the curse."

At last, Mavis turned away from where she'd been staring into nothing.

"You were alone." She said it with confidence, because if Mavis understood one thing, she understood him. His eyes had been kind, when he'd warned her about the curse. Brutally honest, but only because the truth was kinder when a lie could have destroyed her guild.

Zeref tilted his gaze downwards. It made strands of his hair fall past his eyes, past his brow, and Mavis had the sudden urge to brush them back. "I wasn't always."

"You won't be now either," she said, curling her fingers into a fist to keep from reaching out. She remembered the expanse of his back, earlier, the glimpse she'd caught of his bare chest before she turned away, and had to hold back the flush threatening to creep up her cheeks.

He looked like he wanted to say something.

Mavis spoke before he could, aware that she had to convince him. "We're stronger if we're together. You have experience, and I have my mind. We'd be a great team."

Her words made him smile, made him stare at her with something fondness. Mavis tried not to notice that it made him look younger. He was striking when drawn in tragedy, but she liked his smile far better, because it made something in her want to smile in response.

"What do you say?" she asked, holding out a hand.

Zeref glanced at her offering, but didn't take it. "You need to understand something, Mavis," he said, and his words made her hopeful smile fade. "You're trying to live again. I'm trying to die."

Her breath caught in her throat. Her chest ached at the thought of his death, no matter that she'd spent a few days with him at most, over a decade ago.

No. She wouldn't accept that. She'd change his mind. But Zeref had to agree, first, to her request.

"We're both trying to break the curse," Mavis said, and wriggled her fingers. "Isn't that enough?" She waited.

Just as Mavis was about to despair, her fingers hanging in the air, she felt his hand close around hers. His skin was very warm, startlingly so. She had to fight the urge to hug him, wondering if it would warm her up too.

"All right," Zeref murmured. "You've convinced me."

In all the time Mavis had known him, she had never seen hope in Zeref's eyes. But she thought she saw it now.

It was later, after she woken from her first night of peaceful sleep in over a year, that Zeref asked the question she'd been dreading. Dawn was breaking over the trees, turning the sky brilliantly pink.

"You have an idea already," he said, eyes on the sky, "don't you?"

Warmth crept up her cheeks, heated them from within. Here was the reason she had come to find him, one year later, even though she'd thought of his possiblity far sooner. Alone in the forest, away from civilisation, Mavis had remembered with excruciating clarity how his forehead pressed against hers, how their breaths mingled, and she'd known.

She hadn't been brave enough until then. "Yes. The One Magic."

He actually jerked in surprise. "You mean..."

It was now or never. Steeling her will, Mavis threw caution to the winds, and leaned forwards.

Her lips brushed against his cheek.

Zeref was as still as a statue, rigid like stone under the light of sunrise.

"The One Magic," she said again, as he turned to stare at her. One hand rose to his cheek. "I think we can use it."

He was still staring. Nervousness began gnawing at her gut. She wanted him to say something.

At last, he reached for her. Touched her hand. Touched her cheek, which was still blazing with warmth.

"I think," he said, and it was awe in his gaze, "that you're right."

fin