Once upon a time (August 2014, oh god it's been so long) I got the writing prompt "VII.the chariot— last-second rescue" and well… now, two and a half years later, after digging out the doc named "Two Sides Chariot" again and again, the next installment of Two Sides Of A Coin is finally finished! |D

This takes place way long before the other chapters, at the time before the Twins ended up joining Sabertooth!

Please Enjoy! :3

Category: Fairy Tail
Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney, Lector, Frosch
Genre: Gen, Friendship
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers if you haven't seen the anime/read the manga up to the end of the Grand Magic Games. Otherwise you should be good.
Summary: Drabble Series/Collection | "So, how about a mage-duel? The two of you against the two of us." "As if that'd be any challenge!" Sting snorts dismissively. "Against the lot of you, just I will be good enough."
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.

- Two Sides Of A Coin -
- Part Five -

It had seemed like an easy enough job at first – for the likes of fourteen-near-fifteen-year-old Dragon Slayers at least. Daffodillia, the village they were staying near over the winter for the second year now had issued a mage guild request to take care of the bandits that that had been setting up to block the roads between the villages in the area, demanding passing fees from travelers and shares of food from any large caravan.

Usually they don't take jobs like this, not when they have already gone out to the guilds – it's not until after the winter that they'll finally both have moved beyond the age requirement that most guilds issue, that years ago had kept Ryos from joining Phantom Lord – but after hearing the way their current landlady Old Shala cursed about the troubles the bandits were causing for the village... well, they hadn't really thought much about that or about why exactly those bandits were holding the surrounding area in chock hold with that much ease.

(In hindsight, they really should have spent a moment to think about the sheer numbers that kind of operation takes. Or why challenging bandits on their home turf is really just all kinds of Not Smart in general.)

About fifteen men down later, Rogue finds himself slowly but surely approaching the limits of his magic power just as he faces off with the leader of the group. It's almost funny, Rogue thinks as he just barely dodges the bandit's broadaxe, that had he been told maybe a year ago that he'd one day soon find himself thrown utterly off balance while fighting without Sting by his side, he would have snorted, shaken his head and deemed that impossible. Almost, because right now, locked in battle with a man that is very likely twice his size, very competent with his axe and even more furious, Rogue really, really finds himself wishing for his partner.

Sting is still tied up with taking care of the other half of the group though, and so Rogue is stuck dodging swing after swing and weaving in and out of shadows as he waits for his opening to strike and clean up his end of things.

Finally he finds what he's been looking for – the slip of carelessness in the bandit leader's defense that will become his downfall, lips pulling into a smirk when he surges forward right beneath the man's swing–

And gasps just as quickly when he finds himself caught at the throat instead, the opening a faint, a trap and he's realized it too late to escape, too late to turn back into shadows, it's too risky when the grip is so tight.

"Brat, I've been getting into fights with your kind since before you were born," the man snorts as he slams Rogue back, his head roughly colliding with the tavern wall, and between the resulting headache, the ringing in his ears and quickly building pressure against his throat, and for all that he tries, he can't seem to find the leverage he needs to pry that hand open no matter how much he scrambles for it.

There are black spots building in his vision, and Rogue can just barely contain his panic as he keeps struggling to live.

(Gajeel would probably laugh at him, if he saw him like this – a Dragon Slayer contained by a non-mage, just how pathetic is that – and the thought makes him struggle only all the more; he will not die here.

Not like this.)

Truly clear thoughts only return to him when that familiar smell hits and he finds just the strength to pull the bandit's fingers wide enough apart to rasp: "There's only one other of my kind left. You haven't seen him yet."

There is nothing more satisfying than watching the bandit's faint frown of confusion change into pained shock when Sting's White Dragon's Ray hits him square in the side and blasts him off Rogue, who lets himself sink along the wall as he closes his eyes and reaches up to gently rub over his soar throat.

"You are late," he tells Sting a minute or three later, when he knows by the smells and sounds that they are out of opponents and he finally feels the adrenaline spike that his almost death experience caused drain away.

"Eh, I've never been big on punctuality," Sting tells him with a wry shrug and a grin that says 'Thought you know that by now' as he reaches down to help Rogue climb back on his feet, concern shadowing his face for a second, "You all right?"

"I'll be fine," Rogue assures him, eyes drifting to the now-knocked out bandit. "My pride suffered more than the rest of me anyway."

Sting nods, mischief chasing worries off his face again as he nudges Rogue's side with his elbow. "And how did it get to that anyway? Those guys weren't that tough; I could have taken them by myself. Don't tell me you half a month of field work made you lose your edge!"

"Keep that up and I'll show you edge," Rogue snorts in reply, shoving Sting off. That bandit had just got lucky; it's not going to happen again. If there's one thing the year with Gajeel had instilled in him, it's never to allow himself to be caught off-guard the same way twice. It's unworthy of a Dragon Slayer.

"But if you think it's that easy, you can go have the next fight all to yourself."

Lector and Frosch join them just in time to prevent that particular bout of banter from evolving beyond words – Sting smirks sharply (all but doesn't say 'Challenge accepted!') before he turns to their cat partners.

"Excellent work as always, Sting-kun! Not that there was ever any doubt," Lector declares as he inspects what remains of the bandit force – most of them unconscious, and those who aren't too hurt and exhausted to do much more than play dead or give the occasional pained groan.

"Fro thinks so too," Frosch agrees, setting down at Rogue's shoulder and smiling happily when he reaches over to pet her head.

Then he frowns at the chaos and bodies around them, a thought occurring him as he turns to Lector: "…Do any of them have a bounty on them?"

His partner's cat prides himself on keeping up with all kinds of information – is glad to lecture them about outstanding rewards, notable guilds and mages and other sort of trivia. It is his way to contribute to their team he says (not that anyone asks it of him – Lector and Frosch are part of their team, their family, regardless of what he does or doesn't do), and it has become more than useful on several occasions and it is sure to become vital yet again. They won't be able to collect the mission reward, not as independent mages, not when the request has already gone out to the guilds (Daffodillia 's mayor will be happy about the money saved by their interference), but that there are other ways to make money off this afternoon.

Even though they may not have taken on the bandits with any reward in mind (other than maybe Old Shala's quiet smile upon hearing the roads safe and secured again), it would be stupid not to capitalize on any opportunity presenting itself from it.

Lector frowns in concentration as he hovers over several of the bandits' faces, finally setting down on the stomach of their leader.

"I'm pretty sure this guy is Branmore the Oger. He's wanted in at very least three districts, so the reward on him should be hefty," he says finally, nodding to himself with certainty. That confidence changes to faint confusion, ears dropping faintly when he asks. "You are going to have to get him all the way to Daffodilia if you want to see any of that though. That's a long way to drag a person that size, even for the two of you."

Rogue turns to Sting, meeting his gaze – Lector has a point and they both know it. Out of near nowhere, Rogue can hear Gajeel's laugh echo, can feel his large hand almost violently messing with his hair – he had never been anyone to the older Dragonslayer other than the 'Midget' – and just the thought sparks at his temper. Just a look tell him that Sting feels similar – they won't be thwarted by the fact that they still have a few inches to go until they are anywhere near what society considers fully grown, not today.

Not while there are two of them.

The moment passes and Rogue finds his attention caught by the reflection of late noon sunlight off a white tarp covering… something through the open door to the adjoined room behind Sting. Sting shoots him a bewildered look but doesn't ask as he follows him into the next room, a huff of understanding and triumph escaping him when Rogue pulls back the tarp to reveal a Magical Four Wheel Vehicle.

Who even knows how the bandits had gotten their hands on it or what for; maybe one of them had some latent magic ability – it doesn't much more than that to power an SE-plug after all – or maybe they had hoped to sell it on the black market; it's in top condition after all.

Whatever they had intended with it doesn't matter anymore, not now. Rogue turns his head to meet Sting's eyes again, mirroring his sharp grin with a smirk of his own.

"I think we just solved our transportation problem."

("Has either of you ever driven anything like this before?" Lector asks, much more skeptical about this solution.

"No," Sting admits freely, shrugging. "But how hard can it be?")

As it turns out actual driving is a lot more difficult than Sting had assumed initially and by the time they actually do make it to Daffodillia, the vehicle has enough dents and scratches to showcase their progress. They make it into the city just before the gates close, the sun hanging low and dyeing the streets with shades of red and orange.

The guard on duty just sends a light frown their way when they heave Branmore through the station house's entrance and then takes rest of the evening confirming his identity and interrogating them both about just how a fifteen- and a fourteen-years-old had taken down a wanted man worth a tiny fortune. By the time they enter the second hour of that argument Sting jumps to his feet and blasts the chair he was sitting on into ashes.

That effectively puts an end to that, even if the guard huffily informs them that he will dock the costs for that off their reward.

(Not that it matters much – not when they are about to earn 80.000 jewels. It's much more than they've ever managed to save up, more than any job has ever earned them. It's not like they ever really need much money to get by, not living like they do right now, but it certainly won't hurt to have.)

He's still glows content with their success when they finally make their way down the road and out of town towards Old Shala's farm – if they ever needed proof that the legal guilds' age restrictions wasn't meant to account for Dragon Slayers, they've got it now – enthusiastically turning towards Rogue,

"Hey watcha think, we ought to do something nice for–"

He never gets to finish that sentence, a sudden grab of his arm pulling him around to face a red faced hulk of a guy that glowers angrily down at him.

"Are you the bastards that stole our quest?" he hears a woman's commanding voice ask – and turns his head to catch sight of a thin girl with a cold look in her eyes. So the giant had come with backup Sting thinks and eyes her, the way the giant is acting it's clear that she's the one in actual command here.

(There are guild marks on both of them, he notes, the head of a long-toothed tiger branding her arm and his abdomen. Hell if Sting knows what guild uses that sign though.)

Behind him, he can hear Rogue shift his footing – his partner is ready to fight, no doubt. Not that it's necessary… just yet anyway.

"How rude; Sting-kun and Rogue-kun didn't steal anything. You have no one but yourself to blame if you were too slow to heed these people's request." Lector states, his wings unfolding as he flutters up to the woman's eye height.

"Keep out of this, cat-" she hisses and turns to Sting, "Do you always let your pets do your talking?"

"Like there is anything more to say," he just snorts, neither impressed nor afraid of this woman or her entourage. "We fought those bandits and cashed in the reward for the bounty fair and square."

Or as fair as the match-up between two teenaged Dragon Slayers and almost three-dozen non-mages will ever be.

"A couple of midgets like you?" The giant snorts, clearly disbelieving that story. "I don't care what or how you did it; that money is ours. You'd better fork it over or else-"

"Or else, what?" Sting asks, and finally pulls his arm out of the giants grip. "If you think I'm handing anything to a couple of guild monkeys like you, you have another thing coming."

"What was that?" the giant hisses, taking a step forward only to be stopped by the woman, who eyes Sting narrow-eyed. "So, how about a mage-duel? The two of you against the two of us."

"As if that'd be any challenge!" Sting snorts dismissively. "Against the lot of you, just I will be good enough."

"What- Sting!" Rogue protests before the other two even have the chance to process the insult. "Those are guild mages; you shouldn't take that lightly."

"More like a bunch of unbehaved monkeys. Besides didn't you say the next fight was all mine anyway?"

Rogue stares at him but then shakes his head and sighs, the hint of a smile on his face as he relaxes and steps back to the side of the road, arms crossing. "Suit yourself. Don't think I'll step up to help if you wind up losing badly."

(It's a lie and they both know it. But hey, Sting has absolutely no doubt that he will win this one anyway.)

The giant still splutters enraged, but the woman watches him for a second then just clicks her tongue. "Fine by us. It's your own funeral, brat."

"Ava-" the giant protests, but finds himself cut off by one sharp look.

"We'll see whose funeral this is." Sting replies cockily, stretching his arms and loosening his shoulders before he slides into stance. "Are we getting this started, or what?"

Just as he speaks the last of those words, the giant rushes forward – he's far faster than Sting had expected of him – one arm drawn back for a punch that he just barely manages to dodge and just as he spins for a counter, the giant is suddenly gone – a teleporter?!

A second later, Sting suddenly feels arms wrap around him from behind, kicking out to hit the giant in the shins while he's lifted up with ease, incapable of struggling properly in that grip, and wincing when the giant shouts right by his ear.

"Do it, Ava!"

The woman in question just nods and claps her hands together, and Sting can feel her magic power gathering in the air as she quietly chants a prayer – his eyes widening as he recognizes type, the feel in the air, a sharp grin on his face as brilliant white power envelops him just a second after the giant lets go of him, phasing out just in time before the impact.

But instead of pushing him back, of scalding his skin like the holy mage had no doubt intended, Sting just feels a light tingling on his skin before he inhales the spell whole.

"Heh, you really call this holy magic? Tastes pretty lousy, if you ask me," he says, reaching up to flick his thumb over his lips after he's sucked in the last of it, arms flexing a little as he feels the magic surge through him, lips tugging up into a toothy smirk as his considers the woman called Ava, who seems to be paling more and more with disbelieve by the second. "How about I show you how that's really done?"

He turns his head towards the giant, drawing it back slightly as he draws in breath and then releases his White Dragon's Roar right into him, blasting him off harshly into the next wall, then spins on his heels and pulls back his fist to fire off another attack right over the holy mages shoulder, narrowly missing Ava's cheek.

For a second, silence reigns over the street of their fight, the woman's knees slipping out under her from sheer shock – sure never has seen a Dragon Slayer before up close, this one, Sting thinks smugly.

Then, she draws to her feet with a cry – "Edmé!" – and stumbles over to her partner's side. At the same time, Lector finally decides to consider the fight as over and drops himself on Sting's head.

"You've overdone it again," he scolds fondly, as Sting reaches up to scratch his cat partner between his ears while answering. "Nah… I think I've done just enough."

He turns back towards Rogue, who is just shaking his head – clearly he's in agreement with Lector's assessment but before he can ask for sure, he hears an angry hiss from behind him: "Don't think this is over yet!"

One look is enough to confirm that Ava has pushed herself back to her feet, one hand around her partner's arm to help him back up as well. "You'll regret messing with us, brat! No matter what happens to us, our mistress won't forgive this slight against our guild!"

Sting just snorts and rolls his eyes, utterly unimpressed with her threat.

"You can tell that mistress person that the White Dragon will readily take her on any time. Though looking at you, I doubt she'll be much of a challenge either."

Ava just glowers at him and Sting is about to challenge her to speak her mind when he feels Rogue's hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look at his partner.

"It's not worth it," his partner says. "And we have places to be."

Sting frowns for a second, then nods and turns on his heels. Old Shala will have their hides if they aren't home in time for dinner – whether they solved her bandit problem or not – and Rogue is more than right.

Guild monkeys aren't worth getting worked up over.

("So, who the hell did we pick a fight with here anyway?" Rogue asks hours later, as Sting stretches sated and tired before wrapping himself into their nest of blankets in the bed that the four of them share.

"I think I recognize the guild symbol," Lector replies, nose scrunched a little as he thinks. "There was a spotlight on them in the Monthly Sorcerer a few months back; they are up and coming… the runner-ups in the last Grand Magical Games, I think."

"Well, they aren't going to get anywhere close to winning that thing with mages like that," Sting snorts. "All bark and no bite, that bunch."

"Fro thinks so too!" Frosch agrees before cuddling close to her partner.

"There is no way they'll beat either of you," Lector decides with a nod. "The Twin Dragons definitely won't be beaten by the likes of Sabertooth.")

- FIN -

Aaaand that was the story (or at least my version of) how the Twins first encountered Sabertooth. I still remembered how I meant to continue this story by changing to a certain Mistress' PoV for the next chapter and tell the story of her involvement in the Twin's joining the guild and the years beyond.

Will I ever actually write it? Well, who knows at this point… I can't make any promises. |D;

Please be so kind, and leave a review?