AN: New story time! Hell Yeah! Be sure to drop a review and let me know what you thought! 3

Igniparous

Chapter One

Lucy glances at the battered tapestry on the wall, thoughts straying from what Makarov is telling her, the words becoming white noise, hazy and easily forgotten. It's an old thing, the tapestry, frayed at the edges and bloodstained. Her gaze traces the lines in the fabric, following the fine weaving of each stitch until she can't find where one ends and the next begins. For a long moment she wonders how long it's been here, rotting away in this room, left for the bugs. It's collecting dust, only a thin layer, but dust all the same. Makarov must have forgotten about it over the summer when he left for The North. No matter, the old thing was decaying the last time she saw it, she doubts it can be saved now.

Her gaze flicks over the art, taking in the monstrous shapes and dimming colors: Dragons. The tapestry has been around since the first Dragon War, years and years ago. The thing should be in a museum somewhere, some place where it can be protected from time. Makarov never has been one for giving up his prizes, however. She forgets the story behind it, but she knows he must have won the old thing, probably back during his days as a gambler.

He doesn't do that much anymore, not since before Lucy was born. From what she's been told, he was good at the game, could play his cards right and outmatch just about anyone, but when he lost, he lost hard. It cost him his marriage, but he wouldn't let it cost him his children, or his eventual grandchildren. Despite this, Lucy knows he still has a fondness for risk taking, though he's more strategic about cutting his losses.

She remembers an occasion where he had a bit too much bourbon and too little luck during a game of poker. It had cost him his pants and perhaps a little of his dignity. Regardless, it was certainly a holiday to remember, even if she was mortified to see her grandfather strip down to nothing.

It was Laxus' fault, really. He was the one that brought out the bourbon in the first place, despite knowing what a mess it would make. He should have known better than to do that, but she supposes that with everything that happened around that time, Laxus just wanted all of them to forget. They all just needed to forget, at least for a little while. She wishes it was that simple, but forgetting isn't nearly as easy as it sounds, and the bourbon only led to more heartbreak than it was worth.

Laxus tried though, and that's more than Lucy did.

She runs an absentminded hand through her hair, tossing her long, messy hair over her right shoulder as she shifts her gaze to glance out the window to her left, watching as people begin to filter through the front gates, movements sluggish and clumsy from the long trek from the train station.

First years, if she had to guess. Most of the second years are already on campus, arriving a week early in order to secure their classes for their final year. They've already taken up root in the south side of the castle, laying claim to what will be there's for less than one more year.

She can't imagine what it must be like, making a home here for two years, making friends, only to be shipped off in the end, either to the front lines or to the mountains, to fight or study or both. She'll have to get used to that, she supposes, considering she's here now.

Lucy thinks she's ready, though she isn't entirely sure what for. All she knows is that she misses flying, misses being up in the air, being free. She misses the excitement of it all and warmth of rough scales and the smell of brimstone and fire. She misses dragons.

That's why, when Makarov asked if she wanted to apply to the academy, Lucy didn't hesitate in saying yes. Her grades in school were well enough alone to gain her a spot on the roster, but she also knows that she's had an easier entry than most, knows that people will think her connections will matter more than her experiences and the hours she's spent researching for this very moment.

She won't let anyone ruin this chance for her, not this time. Not when this means so much to her.

In a way, this feels like coming home. Eventyr feel like home with its dragons and wisteria, with its crowded halls and dust where their should be dust, rather than layers of cobwebs instead of life.

A weight lifts from her chest at the thought. She's home, she's come home. It's been too long since she's been away, shipped off to a boarding school in the capital, not allowed to leave over breaks because she had nowhere to go back to. A lie, she knows, he home is here, but Makarov was never her official guardian, and without official documentation from her father, she was stuck there in the city.

Lucy winces at the thought, tugging at a knot in her hair while her teeth tug at her lower lip.

She tried to leave the school as soon as she turned eighteen, fought tooth and nail for it, but they wouldn't let her, even when she brought up the legality of it. She tried to call Makarov, but they jammed the signal. She was stuck there for the entire summer, until they no longer had an excuse to keep her.

And here she is, exhausted from the train ride and in no mood for interaction with others. All she wants to do is sleep, but she knows it'll be hours before she can do so. Between orientation and meeting roommates, she doubts she'll be able to turn in early.

It won't be fun, but she thinks she might be able to squeeze in a nap between orientation and meeting her roommates, she'll just have to skip the tour, something she doesn't need to begin with.

"—does that make sense?" Lucy jolts back to attention suddenly, head snapping around to meet her grandfather's eyes, his gaze expectant, though there's a fond little smile on his lips. She knows she's been caught, she should have been paying attention, but knows all the rules already, she was practically raised within these walls.

Lucy hesitates only a moment before responding, trying to guess what he was telling her, but fumbling for an answer. Makarov has always been tricky with his words, he likes to ask strange questions, just to make sure people are listening, and she knows she's fallen into his trap. "Yes," she answers slowly, eyes narrowing just the slightest as she stares back at him.

His lips twist into a smile and Lucy immediately knows she's said the wrong thing. Fantastic. "You haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?" Makarov asks her, gaze absolutely delighted as he grins at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. Instead of being mad or frustrated, Makarov enjoys the satisfaction that comes with embarrassing people who don't listen.

The greatest advice he ever game her was never to get mad, only to laugh when people refuse to listen. Lucy thinks that's a lot easier said than done. She's halfway to starting a fight with the next old man that talks over her.

"Not really," she admits after a long moment, shoulders heaving with a sigh. Lucy flashes him a small smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Winding her hair around her finger, Lucy lowers her gaze from his, an embarrassed flush spreading across her cheeks.

Makarov sighs, as well, his expression turning gentle when he looks at her. He's nothing if not fair, and knows that she's not doing it on purpose, at least, not trying to. "Lucy," he says softly, reaching across his desk to place a hand on top of one of hers. "I know this is hard for you—"

She cuts him off, shaking her head slowly. "No harder than it has been any other year," she tells him, giving a wry smile. And it's true. She's dealt with absentee parents and new schools before. She's an adult. She can handle this.

His lips press into a thin line, but he nods. His eyes don't believe her, but Lucy doesn't expect them to. Makarov has always known when she was a liar. He calls it intuition, but she thinks it's magic. "Do you remember what to do?" he asks her, instead of calling her out.

Lucy smiles, nodding. "Go to the grand hall, listen to you give a speech, get my schedule from Macao, got to the dorms…" she lists, trailing off slowly when Makarov sends her an unimpressed look. "I know what to do," she promises, giggling when he makes a face at her. She's teasing and he knows it, it's only fair, considering what he pulled earlier.

"After orientation there's the tour," he reminds her, giving her a mock-stern look. It's a joke and they both know it, but Makarov is certainly playing the part of strict headmaster at the moment.

Lucy wonders if he's practicing for when he has to give his speech in just a few minutes, it always takes him awhile to get into character. Lucy once asked him why he bothered to put up a front, when he was just going to drop it as soon as the semester starts. He laughed then, told her he wanted to whip everyone into shape. It's best they know he means business first, but is there to listen and comfort when needed.

She rolls her eyes, leaning farther back in her chair and yawning as she glances out the window once again. "I don't need the tour and you know it," she teases, flashing him a smile before standing. Lucy stretches quickly, rolling a kink out of her neck before scooping up her bag and tossing it over her shoulder. She pulls her notebook off his desk, walking backwards towards the door.

Makarov huffs at her, but sends her off with a quick wave and a shake of his head. "Stay out of trouble!" he calls after her, sending her a pointed look as she worms her way out of his office.

Lucy nearly trips over an old rug that's become bunched near the door, but catches herself before she can fall, one hand braced on the doorframe. She giggles to herself, waving back at her grandfather.

"Save it for Laxus," she jokes, snorting, "not me." Really, she's always been the better cousin, at least in regards to not picking fights with strangers over any and all things. Makarov should have a little more faith in her. She's more Heartfilia than Dreyar, after all.

She's about to duck out the door when he calls her back. "Lucy!" He's more scolding than anything else, as if she's a naughty child. She stops anyway, turning back to face him, unsurprised to see his raised brow and downturned lips, a loaded question in his eyes that Lucy doesn't want to answer.

"I'll be fine," she tells him, wondering if she's telling the truth. Sometimes she just isn't sure what she is anymore. Some days are better than others, and this summer has been especially hard. She's getting better though, slowly, but she's getting better.

"Lucy," he calls her name again, quieter, but much more firm. He holds her gaze for a long time, gauging her reaction with clever eyes. His lips press into a paper-thin line, worry etched into the lines on his face.

Lucy smiles again more genuine this time. Her gaze softens, and she traces his worry lines with a careful eye. "I'll be fine, Gramps," she whispers, knowing he can hear her in the silence of the room. "I promise."

He gives her a slow nod and Lucy sends him one last smile before ducking out of the room.

Her smile slips as soon as she disappears down the hall, her expression going blank as she finds herself alone again. She doesn't mind being alone, she likes the quiet, it gives her time to think. Being alone has never scared her either, she was never afraid of the dark and didn't get nervous when her too big house was empty, tree branches rustling in the wind and casting shadows on the walls. No, Lucy doesn't mind being alone.

She hates the loneliness that comes with it.

She's never had many friends, though not for lack of want or lack of trying. She simply hasn't been able to connect with anyone that isn't family. The people at her boarding school were vapid and shallow, more interested in their money than their education. Lucy had never socialized much before that. She's an only child and her best friend was her older cousin. And it's not that she doesn't love Laxus, because she does with her entire heart, but she's been finding it more and more difficult to talk to him about certain things. Especially when he's the problem.

Not that Laxus is a regular problem for her, but he can be a jerk sometimes. He can be too brash and sometimes he just doesn't think before he speaks. He has a good heart though. He's the best cousin she could have ever asked for.

And maybe that's why she's still so sour about him leaving without saying goodbye. It's been two years since she's seen him; two years since he went and joined the Ryttere—the Dragon Corps—without so much as a word from him. She's never been quite so angry with him before, never wanted to grab him and just throttle him for being so stupid. He means well, she knows. He only wants to help people, but he didn't say goodbye. He promised her he would say goodbye.

And she's not sure what hurts worse, the bitterness of him leaving without so much as a goodbye, or the mind numbing fear that he won't ever be coming home. Laxus is smart and brave and resourceful, but the Corps are dangerous. People die all the time, bodies aren't always found, and the word "missing" is more terrifying than "deceased."

Lucy doesn't like not knowing. And she really doesn't like being given false hope.

She shakes the thoughts away, hoisting her bag higher on her shoulder as she stalks down the halls, forcing herself to move faster, lest she be late. She doesn't know most of the professors here personally, but the ones she does know aren't forgiving when it comes to tardiness. She's rather not try to sneak into the auditorium while Porlyusica is speaking. Lucy rather enjoys having her head where it is now.

Gildarts is more forgiving, but he has a penchant for embarrassing his students. She would keep her head, but not her pride.

Between the pair of them, she's not sure how she'll survive the next two years.

Her best guess is long nights and lots and lots of coffee.

Lucy smiles to herself, biting back a laugh at the thought. It'll be a difficult two years, but it'll be worth it, in the end. Besides, the front lines need more riders. And Dragonologists are always looking for more recruits. Though they never say it, Lucy knows the war is taking its toll. Ishgar is fighting a war on two fronts, one in the East against the Deluce Empire, and a second in the North, against the Jotunn, frost giants marching South.

Deluce has its own Corps, mounted riders on dragons and sometimes wyverns. Ishgar has been at ceasefire with them for nearly ten years, though it's not a steady one. Small skirmishes still happen along the border, but all out war is at a halt, at least for the time being. Lucy doesn't know how long it might last, but she hopes the kings can come to a truce sooner than later.

She hates the selfishness of royalty, hates how they send men to war over petty differences, hates how they can't fight for themselves, hates how—

Something sturdy slams into her, knocking her backwards and onto the ground with a heavy thud. Her head hits the floor hard, the breath slamming from her lungs in a rush as pain shoots though her skull. Lucy shrieks, hands flying up and clutching at her head. Pencils fly everywhere as her bag is ripped from her shoulder, her sketchbook and notebook following suit, pages rustling and spreading across the floor, black and white sketches and splashes of color whirling around before finally settling. The contents of her bag spills out onto the marble flooring.

Lucy rolls to her side, legs curling up to her chest and hands still gingerly holding her pounding head. She grits her teeth, whimpering and biting back tears as she feels the ache spreading everywhere. Above her, the person she ran into curses loudly, dropping to their knees beside her.

"Are you okay?" The concern in their voice is nearly palpable, but Lucy doesn't notice, being far too entranced by her pounding head. A moment later, she feels a hand on her arm, rough, warm fingers brushing against the back of her head. "Shit! You aren't bleeding are you?" Lucy squeezes her eyes shut tighter. The male—she's assuming that the person who ran into her is a male, judging by the deepness of their voice—murmurs something she doesn't catch, gently sifting his fingers through her hair. "I'm so sorry," he says, softly this time. "I wasn't watching and I just—I'm so sorry."

Lucy releases a shaky breath, hands leaving her head as she slowly opens her eyes. Worried, stunningly green eyes meet hers, wide open in shock. Messy, pink hair falls into the man's eyes, but he pushes the strands away absentmindedly. His left ear has two silver hoops towards the top, and below that, a black cuff. He bites his lip and Lucy's gaze is drawn to the silver ring in the right side of his bottom lip. It moves when he worries the flesh and he reaches towards her, Lucy vaguely noticing a black mark on the inside of his wrist—a tattoo, but she can't tell what.

His hand curls around her arm and he swears as he glances at his watch. Lucy is yanked to her feet, though not unkindly, and then the man smiles at her before taking off down the hallway and disappearing before Lucy can fully register what's happened.

She shakes it off, blinking rapidly as she watches him round a corner. The orientation hall, if she had to guess. He must be a first year, like her. Though, he must not know where he's going, considering he's headed in the wrong direction. Lucy considers calling after him, but she doubts he's still within hearing range. Besides, she doesn't have the time to go chase after some stranger right now.

Lucy glances down at the strewed remains of her bag, pencils and notebooks spread across the floor, her sketchbook a mess. Her lips twist into a frown when she sees the mess, annoyance flooding through her. She rolls her eyes, stooping to scoop up her things in a hurry. Lucy deposits them back into her bag, choosing time over organization as she tosses everything inside haphazardly.

She can fix it later.

Lucy hurries away without a second thought, racing down the halls as quietly as she can. She reaches the auditorium quickly enough, the clock showing time to spare. Lucy slips inside unnoticed, ducking into the closest seat she can find. No one appears to notice her semi-late arrival, but she thinks that might be for the best. She can already guess what Makarov would say if he caught her arriving late, and she's in no mood for that kind of teasing at the moment.

Speaking of Makarov, Lucy is surprised to find him already in the center of the room, a sly smile on his lips. She'll never understand how he gets around so much faster than her, especially with such short legs, but Lucy has never asked and she doubts he would ever tell. It is his greatest secret, after all.

Makarov is about to speak when the doors behind Lucy fly open, banging loudly against the walls. Lucy's head snaps up and she turns to see the man that ran into her, panting and disheveled as he stumbles into the room, practically collapsing onto a seat beside two men that turn to heckle him, snickering and shoving at his shoulders.

Lucy turns away from him, looking back at Makarov, who also eyes the male curiously, as if debating whether or not to call him out for his lateness. She's surprised when he doesn't, but shrugs it off. They're already sunning late, after all. The last train into Erydia was delayed this morning, and Lucy knows Makarov hates for his schedule to be interrupted.

He'll have to cut his speech short today, though Lucy doesn't see that as a bad thing. Most of Makarov's speeches are tedious anyway. She thinks he likes the sound of his own voice perhaps a little too much, but it's endearing, in a way. He always knows the right thing to say, even if it does take him awhile to get there.

He clears his throat suddenly, but most of the room doesn't notice, merely continuing to chat even as Makarov's smile turns malicious. A group of second years sits towards the back of the room, and Lucy bites back a smile as she sees them poking and nudging each other, snickering as they wait for Makarov to explode.

And explode he does.

"Listen up, Brats!" Makarov's booming voice echoes through the room, startling its occupants into a stunned, heavy silence that feels more loud than their talking. Lucy nearly laughs, but manages to catch herself. It's amusing to her, how her sweet, elderly grandfather can stun a group of two hundred into utter silence with so few words.

What he lacks in size and overall intimidation, he makes up for with a commanding presence. She's never seen someone else silence a room so effortlessly. It's always a joy to witness.

Laxus has the same ability, though it hardly compares to his grandfather's. Sometimes Lucy wishes she could do the same, however, at times she prefers going unnoticed. It's nice, being able to slip around the halls without anyone seeing.

The second years aren't nearly as tactful as Lucy, and only just manage to smother their laughter when Makarov's gaze swivels to glare at them, sobering them immediately. She hears one of them choke slightly, but doesn't recognize them.

No one makes a sound. For a moment she doesn't think anyone is breathing.

Then, Makarov smiles, and it's like the tension in the room is suddenly cracked, shattered, and splintered. The air loses its chill, and she watches as the room breathes deeply, terror momentarily forgotten.

Makarov's eyes twinkle in the low light as he glances around the room, slow and deliberate as he looks at everyone. He catches sight of Lucy in the crowd, and she swears she sees him wink when he sees her, but it might be a trick of the light. "Welcome to castle Eventyr," he greets the room, arms spread wide and welcoming, "your new home for the next two years."

There's a muffled reaction from the crowd, something like awe spilling through, but Lucy can't be sure. She knows what it's like to be trapped in a new home for so long. And though she knows Makarov isn't nearly as strict, she can't help but wonder how the others are feeling. Trapped, nervous, angry?

Lucy bites at her lower lip, rolling the skin between her teeth as she looks at the line of professors behind her grandfather. A few she recognizes: Porlyusica, Gildats, Macao, but most she doesn't.

Perhaps that's for the best.

Makarov is silent for a long moment, as if mulling over his words. Lucy snorts quietly, rolling her eyes. She knows he's had this speech planned for at least a month, if not more. He's only playing for the dramatics. Though, she thinks, casting a quick glance around the room, it certainly seems to be working.

"To begin," Makarov tells them, wetting his lips and arraigning his notes on the podium before him. "I would like to thank you all for your dedication to this country." There's a stunned silence and the heaviness blankets the room once again. There's always a quiet pause when the war is brought up, a hush, as if speaking of it suddenly makes it more real. "As well as your willingness to fight," he finishes quickly, noticing the stillness as well. "That is not an easy thing to ask of people."

No one speaks. No one moves. Lucy's breath catches in her throat, thoughts of her father, her mother, Laxus coming to mind. No, fighting is never an easy thing. Coming to this place can't be easy for most of the people here, but it is necessary. At least, it is for now.

The pregnant pause is broken by Makarov clearing his throat.

He takes a long, deep breath, hands tightening along the side of the podium. "There are few rules here," he continues, glancing at the new students, though also flashing a dark look towards the second years, as if reminding them as well. "But the ones that exist are non-negotiable." The second years shift, embarrassed or nervous, Lucy doesn't know. "This school is not a game, and I will not have anyone treat it as such."

It's firm, leaving no room for argument, and Lucy feels something like electricity crackle in the air, like lightning on a breeze. Sharp, it makes the skin tingle.

Makarov gives a sharp nod, eyes crinkling at the edges as he bites back a smile.

"Classes are mandatory Monday through Thursday," he tells the students, gaining excited titters from certain groups around the room, everyone thrilled at having the extra day off from classes. "Though, certain professors—" he cuts off, glancing sharply at Porlyusica, who scowls back at him, "—may have optional classes on Fridays." Hushed groans come from the room, none loud enough to pinpoint. "It's up to you whether or not you find your presence necessary." There's a teasing edge to his words, and Porlyusica's glare darkens, but Makarov ignores her.

Lucy is glad about the extra day, classes will be tough, she knows, and an extra day for studying or socializing will be beneficial.

"The entire campus is free reign." Lucy smiles at this, excited to explore the area once she gets the chance. She's missed the gardens especially, the sweet-smelling flowers that seem to always be in bloom, no matter the weather. Snow doesn't affect the wisteria, though Lucy isn't entirely sure why and Makarov simply refuses to tell her. "However," Makarov continues, cutting off an excited bought of chatter, "only those receiving a passing grade in their Dragonology courses are allowed near the dragons." There's a shuffle of disappointment and then Makarov chuckles. "Both for your own safety, as well as that of the dragons." He winks, gaining a laugh from a few students.

"Similarly, the city is off limits unless you have a pass from me, or one of your professors." He clucks his tongue, eyes narrowing for just a moment. "Even then, leaving campus is only allowed on days without classes, unless there is some type of emergency."

Lucy worries her lower lip, biting back a smile. She knows the reason for this rule. There was one night, roughly three years ago, when Laxus left campus on a Wednesday night. He came back piss drunk and naked at three in the morning, fell asleep in a classroom, and scared a couple of first year girls half to death when they found him in the morning.

Makarov's hypothesis is that they can prevent this from happening again once classrooms are locked on Thursday nights.

Personally, Lucy would have paid good money to see Laxus' face that morning, but she digresses.

"Pets are, as you already know, allowed on campus." He clears his throat loudly. "Within reason, Mr. Gryder," he finishes with a smirk, casting a look towards one of the second years that had been laughing earlier. The man yelps, sinking back in his seat as if it might swallow him and save him from embarrassment. "If it is not something allowed in your own home, it will not be allowed in the dorms. This includes anything larger than a common dog." He looks pained as he considers his next words. "There will be absolutely no cows allowed in the dorms."

Lucy has to smother her laughter with a hand, the image all too funny to her. She can't imagine how that must have worked out.

"Finally, this school has a zero tolerance policy for violence and harassment." The room goes hush again, quelled by the seriousness in Makarov's tone. Even Lucy pauses, surprised by her grandfather's ferocity. His gaze turns icy, hard as steel, and his muscles go tense. "I will not allow anyone to be harmed in my school, do I make myself clear?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "If I find out about anything happening to one of my students, you will be removed, permanently."

It's dark and threatening, and Lucy thinks Makarov's outdone himself this time. The first years are sure to behave, at least for a while. Lucy doesn't doubt her grandfather's sincerity, either. He really won't hesitate to remove any troublemakers.

He dismisses everyone with a wave of his hand, turning his back to the students and meandering towards one of the doors. Lucy stands, swiveling around to escape through the doors before anyone can call for a tour.

"Oh!" Makarov's voice stops her, Lucy's fingers brushing against the door. "One last thing, before you go!" She waits, but doesn't turn around, even as she feels Makarov's eyes on her back. "Be safe, and do have fun."

There's a smile in his voice when he finishes. "The dragons certainly will."

Lucy skips the tour, instead grabbing her schedule and uniform and ducking out of the room, heading for the dorms on the North side of campus, slipping into her designated room without a sound.

Each dorm is the same, for all intent and purposes. A large commons room, comfortable for up to twenty people, though only intended for twelve. Two sets of stairs on either side of the room, one meant for feminine oriented students, the other for masculine. Six rooms atop each set of stairs, two bathroom on each side.

The rooms are small, from what Lucy saw earlier, but cozy, just large enough for a bed, desk, and closet, but not much else. However, there is a balcony off each room, and that's something Lucy thinks she might enjoy. She always has loved the sunshine, and she might be able to grow a few plants later in the year.

Regardless, Lucy doubts she'll be spending much time in the rooms. The commons seem far more inviting, warmer, almost, more lived in than the rooms. Lucy is glad for that, in a way. She's spent most of her life locked in too big rooms with little to do. At least the commons will be filled with life. She's excited about meeting new people, excited to make friends for possibly the first time.

Which is why she's waiting, curled on one of the couches with her legs tucked to her chest, a book propped against her knees. She's read it before, and isn't paying much attention to the words as she waiting. Mostly, Lucy is just enjoying the feel of the book in her hands, worn pages against her fingertips, ink dulled with age. It's an old favorite of hers, a fairy tale that her mother used to read to her at night. She practically knows it by heart.

Lucy stills as she hears the doorknob jiggle, a pair of giggling voices talking excitedly just outside the door. Her mouth goes dry suddenly, her eyes widening when the door is pushed open unexpectedly.

She's met with smiling faces and blue hair. Lucy blinks in surprise, but smiles when the two girls notice her. It takes them a moment, what with Lucy curled against the couch the way she is, but their eyes practically light up when they see her.

The shorter of the two grins when she sees Lucy, brushing her short, messy hair out of her face. Her brown eyes flick from Lucy to the book in her hands, her smile only widening when she reads the title. "Oh!" she gaps, clasping her hands together in front of her, practically bouncing on her heels. "You must be our other roommate!"

Lucy swallows down a laugh, amused by the girl's antics. Lucy can already tell she's going to be a fun person to talk to, a bit hyper, perhaps, but certainly interesting. "Hi," she replies quickly, feeling slightly awkward now that's she's actually talking to someone new. It's a lot easier in theory, she's quickly coming to learn. "I'm Lucy," she tells them, glancing between the two girls.

The taller of the two only nods, sending Lucy a shy, but happy smile and a quick wave.

"I'm Levy," the shorter tells her, dragging the other girl forward a few steps. Levy nudges the other girl with an elbow, making her yelp softly is surprise, a blush coating her cheeks. "And this is Juvia," she introduces, releasing Juvia in favor of clasping her hands behind her back.

Juvia looks mildly embarrassed to be put on the spot, blush deepening as the other girls stare at her.

Lucy tears her eyes away from Juvia, not wanting to make the other girl nervous. Juvia relaxes a moment later, sighing slightly, and Lucy releases her own breath. "Nice to meet you both," she tells them, casting a quick look between the two. For a moment, she wonders if they're sisters, but shakes the thought away quickly.

Juvia's face is thinner and Levy has a smaller, more upturned nose. The shape of their eyes are different, and, other than their hair, Lucy can't see much connecting the two.

She doesn't ask, of course, figuring one will mention it if they are, in fact, related in some way.

"You sure got here fast," Levy comments suddenly, a sly lilt to her voice. She quirks a brow at Lucy, as if knowing the other girl skipped the tour. "We only finished the tours a few minutes ago." Her lips twist into a mischievous grin, but she doesn't call Lucy out, much to her relief.

Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth for several seconds, Lucy not knowing what to say. "I'm a fast walker," she decides on. It's a half-truth, if nothing else. Lucy did indeed walk rather fast to escape having to tour the school. It's not exactly a lie.

Her mother used to tell her that white lies were worse than a normal lie, because you were being intentionally deceitful with the truth, but Lucy stopped putting stock in a dead woman's words several years ago.

Levy simply shrugs, accepting Lucy's excuse easily enough. Lucy is grateful for that, and she relaxes back into the furniture a moment later, more at ease suddenly. She doesn't want them to find out about her being related to the headmaster. Not so soon, anyway. She's here because she deserves to be here, not because of her connections. She won't have anyone assuming otherwise.

"Fair enough!" Levy glances up the left set of stairs suddenly, eyes narrowing in thought. She turns back to Lucy a moment later. "Did you already pick a room?" she asks, rocking on her heels. Lucy suddenly notices the bags the girls are holding, eyes widening slightly.

Lucy nods, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah, farthest to the right," she tells the pair, jerking her head towards the stairs. Really, there was nothing special about the room, at least, not that Lucy noticed. She just liked the feel of it when she stepped inside. It was inviting, like she was supposed to be there.

Levy snorts good-naturedly, raising a brow at Lucy, a small smile on her lips. "And closest to the bathroom," she teases.

That may have also played a part, yes.

Juvia snickers and Lucy releases an embarrassed giggle. "You caught me," she jokes back, feeling the tension slowly slip from her shoulders as she relaxes, suddenly feeling more comfortable around the pair. They're nice, for lack of a better word, all smiles and teasing. Lucy thinks that's something she could learn to love coming from them.

Sure, she's dealt with teasing from Laxus, but he's her cousin. This feels different, and not necessarily in a bad way.

Juvia suddenly perks up, her big, blue eyes going impossibly wise. Her hand shoots into the air and she practically bounces on her feet, blue hair falling around her shoulders in great waves. "Juvia calls the middle room!"

Lucy is a bit surprised by the third person, but brushes it aside easily enough, giggling at Juvia's enthusiasm.

Levy, however, is not nearly as amused. She whirls around, gasping, a look of utter betrayal on her face. "Juvia!" she gasps, sending the girl a mock serious look and pouting. "That's so unfair!" The shorter girl huffs and Lucy releases a surprised giggle when Levy actually stomps her foot against the rug. There's a twinkle in her eyes, however, so Lucy knows she isn't serious.

Juvia simply shrugs, grin positively wicked as she bats her eyes at Levy. "Levy, hesitated," she reasons, looking positively satisfied with herself, amused with Levy's pouting.

"Juvia has a point," Lucy agrees, nodding along with the other girl, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Levy isn't nearly as amused. She puff out her cheeks, hands on her hips, and sends the two a mock-glare that only serves to make them laugh harder. Eventually, Levy laughs as well, unable to hold up her front. "Bullies," she jokes, huffing as she drops down onto the opposite end of the couch Lucy is still curled upon.

Juvia smiles politely at Lucy, but settles into a chair, rather than snagging the cushion between them. Lucy merely smiles back, understanding, but decides not to comment.

It's quiet for a long moment, the three of them settling in silently. Lucy is mildly surprised by how comfortable she feels, expecting more awkwardness at suddenly meeting new people. She's pleasantly surprised by how normal it all feels. She was expecting something more, in a way, more of a tense atmosphere, more heavy silences or over-compensation of speaking.

But it feels natural. Nice.

"So how do you two know each other?" Lucy asks after several seconds, finally setting her book aside as she glances between the pair. Her arms curl around her legs, gaze curious and lips pressed into a slight frown. Perhaps they are related, after all, judging by the twin looks they send her, equal surprise reflecting in both of them.

"We don't," Levy says simply, shrugging slightly. She stretches out on the couch, toes briefly brushing against Lucy's bare ankle. Levy sends her an apologetic smile, but Lucy merely waves her off.

"You don't?" she echoes, blinking in surprise. Sure, she assumed they weren't related, but to not know each other at all? That comes as a surprise to Lucy. She thought for sure they were friends, at the very least, especially with the way Levy was acting.

Maybe Levy is just more friendly than Lucy gave her credit for.

Levy gins and it's all teeth. "We met on the way up! Wanted to get to our rooms as soon as possible." She wrinkles her nose, glancing at the stairs once again.

"And how'd that work out for you?" Lucy teases, brushing her hair off of her neck and shifting so her legs are crossed beneath her. Juvia watches their exchange silently, amusement in her eyes; she hides a giggle behind her hand.

Levy just groans. "Evidently not very well."

Another stretch of silence. Juvia hums under her breath, stretching out her legs and fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"So we have the weekend to ourselves," she shy girl states more so than asks, gaining the rapt attention of both Lucy and Levy. Lucy is momentarily surprised to hear the other girl speak up, but Levy just seems elated, doing a happy little wiggle on her end of the couch.

Lucy finds herself speaking without meaning to. "Yeah, Headmaster Makarov," she smothers a frown, not used to the taste of it on her tongue, she'd much prefer to call him like she always does, but circumstances are different, "always likes to give students the weekend to adjust and explore," she explains, stating the same thing Laxus told her so many years ago.

Levy considers this for a long moment, lips pressed together pensively, as if mulling it over. "Well, I'm glad," she decides, crossing her thin arms over her chest and flashing a big smile. "I would probably die if we started classes tomorrow."

Juvia and Lucy share a look at Levy's dramatics, the former rolling her eyes just the slightest, though there's an almost fond smile on her face.

"They can't be that bad," Juvia argues, voice soft. Lucy almost doesn't hear her, but she blames her wandering thoughts on that.

Lucy goes to voice her agreement, when Levy cuts her off with a groan. "I'm not ready to fly," she practically moans, a pathetic little frown pulling at her lips. She's teasing, of course, more dramatic than needed, but there is a hint of fear lurking in her eyes. She curls into herself, pouting.

"You don't want to fly?" Lucy blurts, confused. Most would jump at the opportunity to fly, that's half the reason people come to this academy. People don't just choose to study dragons on a whim, there's always a reason, some deep-rooted need for adventure. Something that makes their heart race, a wanting.

Levy, however, just shrugs, shaking her head just the slightest. "Not really," she admits, blushing all the way down to her neck. "I just want to study them," she adds quietly, a nervous giggle spilling from her lips. "Dragons, I mean." She wets her lips, then turns to Juvia, quick to change the subject. "And what about you, Juvia?"

She considers the question for several seconds, fingers tapping against her cheek as she bites her lip. "Juvia thinks it would be fun to fly," she tells them after a long pause. She wrinkles her nose, then smiles timidly. "But also scary."

Levy nods, accepting this. "What do you want to do, Lucy?" she questions, raising a curious eyebrow.

Lucy smiles, but it's strained. "I'm still figuring that out."

AN: So, here's the new story! Hurray! I'll try to update every Tuesday, but I might be starting a new job soon, so it's hard to tell!

Be sure to leave a review and let me know your thoughts!

Glossary:

Eventyr- Norwegian = "fairy tale"

Ryttere- Norwegian = "riders"