Rita's funeral was the tragedy of Magnolia. Half the town came to the ceremony and every guild member left some sort of offering on the cold stone-carved grave. It was a major blow to the guild, paired with Mavis' disappearance it seemed like what had once been a haven of light and hope was crumbling at its very foundation.

There were whispers of disbandment and a few distant members cut their ties while they still could. Acnologia let it happen until after Rita had been laid to rest. He dodged the possibility of becoming Master and avoided any prying inquisitions into Mavis' whereabouts. The latter proved harder with Warrod and Precht constantly pestering him.

"You must know where she went!" Precht demanded. "We know you do!"

"I do not," he'd retort coldly, and it was true. Maybe that's why Mavis wouldn't let him take her... wouldn't let him help her... 

Ignorance was some form of innocence. His denial was a wretched truth even the most steadfast lie-detection spells had to accept. He didn't know. Precht would have to learn to accept it.

"Why did she leave? She wouldn't miss Rita's funeral - she wouldn't," Warrod's demands were more stressed, strained. In a way, his inquiries were far worse than Precht's furious ones.

"She is gone." And that's all Acnologia would ever say to them. They'd pester and plead and it would take them years before they gave up. Years that bothered Acnologia but did not break him; he could be patient at times. He forbade anyone from chasing after her - there would be no manhunts for the First Master. She was no criminal, nor was the guild so fragile as to crumble without her.

It seemed most disagreed. The Dragon King wasn't sure exactly how he was supposed to protect the guild, but after half their members drifted away in the following weeks, he began to think maybe needed to prod some people in the right direction. And he had some idea where to start.

"We need a new Master," Precht murmured one night at the bar. "Otherwise we'll be marked as a dark guild or be forced to disband."

"Are the lawyers scheming?" Acnologia asked darkly.

"Crownsguard have already dropped by and issued a warning. We fight half a war for them and they still threaten to disband us," Precht cursed softly into his drink. "Can't even give us a few weeks to mourn."

"Well... I guess we need someone to take the job," Acnologia supposed wryly. He threw Precht a rather obvious glance.

"I really mean you need to become Master," Precht pressed.

"No."

"You were closest to Mavis."

"That means nothing."

"You're immortal, the strongest here, maybe the strongest anywhere - you're the best fit."

"You are woefully naive," Acnologia denied with a huff. "The best warriors rarely make the best leaders. As for immortality, i am static - a constant in a guild that needs flexibility and shifting mentorship in shifting times. Besides, I am not here for the guild... It is not in Fairy Tail's interest that I inherit it."

"If you're not here for the guild, why are you here?" Precht demanded, a bark in his snap. "Not to be cold, but I was under the impression you only stayed for Mavis."

"I did."

"Then why haven't you left."

"Because I cannot."

"Why not?"

"I made a promise," Acnologia murmured simply. "So I stay."

Precht sighed in defeat and swirled his drink around in his mug: "You're really going to make me do it, aren't you?"

"Yes," Acnologia nodded, sipping his coffee as he relished the silence of the guildhall.

Precht shook his head in rueful acceptance: "Then I'll do it. You're a stubborn ass though."

Acnologia's lips curled into a smile and he snickered: "Congratulations on your new position, Second."

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

With the "Master" business sorted out, issues began to resolve themselves. The guild was no longer hanging on the edge of legality so members relaxed and the whispers eased. Precht was a decent master - more to the books than Mavis but he carried a mysterious air and a staunch expression that added an enigmatic energy to the Fairy guild.

Second also took the crown to task for more than a few outdated legal proceedings and Acnologia listened to the headaches with a wry smile and a thankful sigh. He would've made Fairy Tail into a criminal guild if he had to put up with that much bureaucracy and paperwork. Just glimpsing the occasional legal vulture or slithering sycophant made him contemplate a coup d'etat.

There were also the usual members to quell, the inquisitive annoyances to scare off with a sneer, and the gossip to growl at. Mavis' impromptu vanishing had prompted skeptics and theories but Acnologia found he could ignore them easily enough, scaring conspirators them off with a glare.

Other matters were not so easily avoided...

And by 'other matters' he meant Yuri.

The blond was quiet, as was only natural with grief. He held Makarov as the kid screeched all through his mother's funeral, silent tears streaming down the widower's cheeks. He was a single parent now, and such things were not conducive to the mage lifestyle. He couldn't go on jobs, couldn't earn jewels, and the stubborn punk was refusing to let the guild help out. 

Warrod was worried and helped out where he could, watching Makarov so Yuri could rest and maybe, once or twice, stashing some extra jewels where Yuri would eventually find them. Precht had finagled some numbers for once in his life, muttering about 'founder exceptions' and 'life-membership privileges'. Everyone pooled together their extra savings and went about slipping it to Yuri in their own ways, which was hard when he was still proud and constantly stubborn. Acnologia had half a mind to dump half the guild funds on the man's doorstep and call it a day, but Yuri had lost a lot in the last month and Acnologia wasn't ready to take his pride. So instead, he knocked on the door, empty-handed.

"Hey, Warrod - I... Oh..." So, Yuri started dismissing visitors before he even opened the door. Seeing as it wasn't the usual visitor, it seemed Yuri's practiced monologue failed him. The blond's body froze as he registered Acnologia in the doorframe.

"Blondy," Acnologia greeted.

"Blue," Yuri answered numbly.

"May I enter?" The dragon slayer raised a skeptical eyebrow at the gawking silence which seemed to shake Yuri out of his shock.

"Yeah, yeah sure, come on in," Yuri nodded, ushering the dragon slayer inside. The house wasn't a mess per se, but there were enough clothing articles strewn around the house to make up a full wardrobe. Acnologia eyed up a shirt strewn on the couch and wrinkled his nose as the smell of too-old laundry wafted through his senses.

"Yeah, it's a mess. Sorry, I haven't gotten Makarov to sleep through the night yet, so -"

He was so serious. No grin, no cackle - maybe a dry smile, but under empty eyes that made something in Acnologia crawl.

"What can I do?" he interjected, and Yuri seemed taken by surprise.

"What?" the mage asked softly.

"What can I do?" Acnologia demanded curtly, unimpressed with the response.

Yuri just stared at him, beyond perplexed: "Oh... uh... I dunno."

"Very well, if you don't give me something to do, I will just do something," Acnologia threatened.

"I don't understand -"

"Noted," Acnologia huffed before picking up the shirt on the couch. He'd start with the garments. Picking up the house wasn't time-consuming, just awkward with Yuri testing him with all that false 'no need', 'I can do that', 'I'm fine', and 'do you want something to eat or like... a drink?'. Honestly, the man was pathetically awkward when he was exhausted. 

Acnologia had collected the laundry into a more controlled pile right as Makarov started screaming and sent Yuri flying through the house with a bottle in hand.

That left Acnologia alone in the kitchen. Brilliant.

He smelled no residue of recent cooking and there were suspiciously few dirty dishes in the sink. He finished them almost too fast and was left wondering what else homeowners did in their spare time.

He had never been excessively creative or imaginative so it was no surprise he just fell back on what he knew.

He'd cooked plenty back when he lived with Anna and Mavis, but that had been over an open fire and he was pretty sure Yuri's palate demanded more hygiene than stick utensils. First and foremost he surveyed the ice box - the refrigerator or whatever - and found a measly collection of food. Some sort of protein, a half-eaten cabbage head, and... bug juice?

Oh, absolutely not. He almost heard Wiesslogia gasping in scandalous horror: a nest without a food stash. Oh, the white dragon would've thrown an absolute fit. Metalicanna's teeth were grating in his ear in scathing fury as well.

This wouldn't stand. Acnologia left without a word and heard Yuri's meager; "Oh! Bye!" behind him accompanying a happy coo from Makarov.

A hundred jewel and three shopping bags later, he was back in Yuri's apartment gingerly experimenting with the stove.

"WHAT THE - When did you get back here!?" Yuri cried, entering the kitchen only to jump back and clutch Makarov closer. "What are you doing!?"

"Your fridge was empty," Acnologia answered simply, gingerly touching the top of the stove and finding it burning to the touch. Perfect. He shook his hand to ease off the burn and snickered - it wasn't near as hot as Igneel's flames, but it would work.

"I just haven't had a chance to go out yet. You didn't have to do that, I'm sorr - don't just put that on there!" Yuri demanded before Acnologia could place a raw chicken breast on the bare stovetop.

"What? Do you suddenly eat chicken raw?" Acnologia demanded.

"Get a pan!" Yuri gawked. 

Acnologia shrugged but accepted the strange culinary rule. Soon enough he had the house smelling semi-delicious. Spices, he was solid on. Seasoning, Anna had taught him well. Even on the road they had been certain that every meal was somewhat palatable. He did eventually figure out the purpose of the oven and the microwave as he made a more hearty meal.

It was a late lunch, but Yuri scarfed it down like he was starving.

"If you choke in front of your child, I will have to resuscitate you only to kill you again," Acnologia reprimanded with full judgment. Makarov sat in his padded booster seat, quietly, looking between the two of them with wide quiet eyes.

"Holy shit this is so good," Yuri praised with a mouth full of chicken and greens.

"You cannot taste it - you are inhaling it," Acnologia reprimanded.

"I didn't know you could cook!"

"I am three hundred years old."

"That doesn't mean you can cook!"

Acnologia scoffed and began picking into his plate, every now and again glimpsing at the baby across the way whose eyes were full of familiar awe. Cooking, he could do. Childcare? Never. Afterward, Acnologia stowed the leftovers in the fridge and left with a simple goodbye.

"Thanks, Blue," Yuri smiled and Acno narrowed his eyes at the earnestness there. The blond was still too serious.

He gave a small nod and left...

And came back the next day with a new set of groceries and a recipe he snatched from Warrod.

"Whaaaaat are you doing in my kitchen!?" Yuri cried, once more frightened by the stranger spontaneously appearing in his apartment. Honestly, what did the man expect - he didn't lock his door. What fool with a baby didn't lock his door!?

Skiadrum's voice was chiding in his head all over again. Nest security, guardian rotations, friendly wellness checks - gods, his siblings would've had this figured out much better than he managed.

"Salad," Acnologia answered simply as he held up a head of lettuce and a hand of berries.

He came back the next day. And the day after that. And the days after that. 

"You cannot keep doing this! What am I going to do with all this food!?" Yuri cried desperately as he stared in his fridge at the leftovers stacked on one another. Acnologia had to buy a whole other glass set to keep up. A rather nice set, if he was honest, because humanity's ingenuity when it came to food stashes was oh-so wonderful to peruse. He'd spent too long shopping for a good set. A good thing Mavis had left him some of her savings - she'd approve of this expenditure, no doubt.

After packing away the last meal, Acnologia slipped the glassware into the fridge and gave Yuri a critical look as he closed the door.

"Well if you would start eating dinner, they would be eaten up a lot faster," Acnologia chastised simply, carefully walking around where Makarov was lying on his back, enraptured with his mobile that danced with stars and small dragons.

"I eat," Yuri objected, striding after the Dragon King.

"Mmhm," Acnologia agreed with no confidence as he made his way to the front door. "See you tomorrow."

"No - no, you don't have to keep doing this!" Yuri cried desperately. 

Acnologia shut the door behind him and snickered on his way out. He snickered his way back the next day with a loaf of bread. It was starting to become worth it just to see Yuri gawk in disbelief every time he saw the dragon slayer.

Today, though, the man found some semblance of a spine.

"You have to stop this," Yuri demanded. "I'm fine."

Acnologia rolled his eyes and pushed past the man. Or he tried. Yuri stayed firmly in the doorway and Acnologia had to stop lest he knock the new father straight to the floor and break his cheap wooden flooring.

"Yuri," Acnologia began.

"I don't need your pity, or your charity, or your -"

"If I were any lesser mage, I would take that as an insult. They are called offerings, child," Acnologia corrected.

"I... what?"

"Offerings: draconic tradition," Acnologia deadpanned.

"... You're kidding."

"I should eviscerate you for insinuating such. I do not lie: You have a new hatchling, so the nest brings you food," he shoved the bread into Yuri's hands and then carefully pushed past him. 

"O-okay, but I'm not a dragon!" Yuri stated the obvious as he fumbled the warm baguette, hissing from the hot touch.

"No, but it is something that must be done, so I do it," Acnologia stated simply. "Less my siblings haunt me for a breach in common decency."

The casual "lore drop" (as Mavis would've put it) made Yuri's arguments die as the Dragon King made his way into the painfully domestic habit of preparing a lunch.

"Siblings?" Yuri echoed. 

"Yes. When Igneel first got his son, the rest of us brought him food until he could leave the nest again. It is a way to ensure the strength of a parent, and therefore the safety of a hatchling." He was no fool, he saw Yuri wander closer and so he continued to speak.

"Openness," Grandeeney was whispering in his soul. "If you are open with them, they will open up themselves."

Oh, he hated talking, but it was a bit easier in a quiet room with busy hands and a polite audience. It was easier when it came to them.

"Metalicana despised the tradition. He, like you, considered it a show of weakness to be helped. He changed his tune after the first month - I think he found he missed our company."

"I don't consider it a weakness," Yuri murmured.

"You do," Acnologia nodded. "So take some relief in knowing I am doing what I have done for five dragons who would slay anyone for mistaking my care for their ineptitude."

Yuri sat by the counter and looked over to Makarov's room where the kid was likely napping if Acnologia had to go by heartbeat and breath alone.

"What happened to them?" Yuri asked softly. "Your siblings?"

Acnologia shrugged. "I lost them."

"Sorry. It... um... it sounds like you had a big family"

"Bigger than most."

"Were they... all dragons?"

"Yes."

"Guess that explains some things," Yuri supposed wryly and Acnologia voted to ignore the implications there. He spoke before he could catch himself...

"You remind me of one of them," Acnologia supposed.

"Really?"

"Yes... Igneel. He was also a ridiculous fool."

"Hey -" There was no heat behind Yuri's tired grin.

"It is true," Acnologia sighed. "He was loud, arrogant, obnoxious, and just painfully unaware. Oblivious on all accounts. He thought he was hilarious - he was not, for the record."

"Oh, I feel so loved and appreciated here."

"I admit he was not all bad. He was a decent fighter. Fairly charismatic. He was a loyal friend despite it all, and above all else fantastic father to his son."

Acnologia turned to look Yuri dead in the eyes. The blond man sat there stunned for a moment, his jaw open as his eyes slowly filled with tears. Acnologia huffed before getting back to his work, trying to ignore Yuri's quiet sniffling.

It took a moment or two for Yuri to speak.

"I think I'm fucking it up," Yuri admitted softly.

"Your child is two months old. Far too early to tell," Acnologia scoffed. "Now in a decade, I will pass further judgment on your parenting techniques."

"I just... I can't just move on - I... We were supposed to raise him together. We were supposed to move into a house and... and Rita was -"

Yuri broke off in a quiet gasp and Acnologia remained stationary as the man broke down into quiet sobs behind him. He flipped over the toasting garlic bread and tried to ignore the painful reminders he'd dug up from his chest.

Skiadrum and Grandeeney would've been better at this. Anna would've been better at this. Hell, even Weisslogia would've been better at this. All Acnologia did was plate the garlic bread and gently hand the blond a plate. Yuri tried to wipe away his tears before taking the small offering.

"It is hot," Acnologia warmed, turning the stove off.

Silence met him.

"Does it ever get easier?" Yuri breathed after a long moment.

Acnologia moved the pan to the sink and flipped on the hot water silently, watching water enchantment fill the basin with suds.

"Does it ever get easier?" Yuri echoed, a little louder.

"No," Acnologia answered simply. "It does not. You simply get used to it being difficult."

"How long does that take?" Yuri hissed.

"Well... I would be a bad measure for this," Acnologia answered in a poor attempt at a joke. "I have..." honesty... honesty.. honesty, Grandeeney pleaded from his soul. "I am still grieving."

"You lost yours too... didn't you?" Yuri asked and Acnologia's throat closed as a growl fought for his tongue. He bit it down and swallowed it, continuing with the dishes silently. Yuri took the hint and slowly began to eat in silence.

He never turned Acnologia away from the door again.

Their lunches became a regular thing, at least until Acnologia came home and found Yuri already up at the stove. 

"Look at that," Yuri grinned cheekily as he showed off his omelet. "I can provide for myself now!"

"Miracles do happen," Acnologia scorned with a small smile. Makarov had started crawling by then which meant Warrod and Precht were over more often than ever. Everyone was trying to get the child to say their name first and it was a tight competition between Yuri and Precht.

"My name is vernacularly simple, he's going to get it," Precht argued. "If he says Prek, Pret, Pet, or Pek, I win."

"Well I'm DAD, so I'm gonna win!" Yuri shot back. "Everyone knows kids say dad first."

They both were brought to their knees when Makarov, with full confidence, grinned a toothless smile and called for; "A-mowo-aa!" when Acnologia walked in through the door.

"What is wrong with you two?" Acnologia scoffed as he picked up the toddler as requested by his grubby hands, but holding him a far foot away from his chest. "And what does the child need now!?"

"Unfair... it's just unfair," Yuri sighed from where he knelt, his head hidden in his hands.

"Bested... by a dragon..." Precht hissed - his forehead on the floor.

Warrod was laughing his ass off and Acnologia was just trying to figure out if there was some curse afflicting the three or if it was just normal punk shenanigans. Makarov giggled in his hold.

A-mowo-aa morphed into Acmo, and then Macno as Makarov graduated from crawling to toddling. Makarov used his newfound power for pure carnage and chaos, running around the house and the guild, intent on getting anything he could get his grubby hands on (and then usually putting said things in his mouth). He had a train of people chasing after him almost constantly.

The guild loved their youngest member. He technically wasn't a member yet, but he may as well have been. He had the gusto and the infectious laugh indicative of any Fairy Tail mage. Everyone knew his name and the boy recognized enough faces to laugh and cheer in familiarity. Everyone was infatuated with him to some degree.

Everyone.

"Macno!" little toddler Makarov cried running up to Acnologia's seat at the bar. The dragon slayer looked down and gave a long sigh.

"Yuri! Your child!" Acnologia yelled. Yuri wasn't around to save him this time.

"Macno! Macno!" Makarov laughed putting his fat hands up and begging to be picked up.

Acnologia looked around the room and resigned himself to his fate as he reached down and picked up the blond-haired child. The boy cheered and immediately began playing with Acnologia's thick hair.

"You pull it, and I will return you to the floor," Acnologia threatened hollowly which only made the boy giggle.

Acnologia cracked a weak smile at the toothless grin. Yes, Makarov was a well-known soft spot of the Dragon King, flustering him every time the boy cried and bringing roaring laughter with his childish shenanigans. He never said no if the child asked to be picked up which had led to several complications when the boy didn't want to be put back down. He had been forced to walk home with Yuri once or twice.

All things considered, he probably should've foreseen what happened next.

"Would you be willing to?" Yuri asked hopefully, his hands clasped together. So the boy could be polite - when he wanted something!

"You want me - Me! to watch your child," Acnologia demanded, raising a brow. "Me?"

"He loves you," Yuri reasoned. "And it'll only be for a day. I'll finish the job, get some jewels, and be back tonight. I promise."

As he spoke, Makarov was toddling around the hall, closely followed by Warrod and another guild member.

"Yuri, I do not deal with children," Acnologia explained with a heavy sigh.

"Okayyyyy, but you're great with him," Yuri contradicted.

"Yes, great at picking him up and giving him back -"

"Just feed what you usually do and make sure he doesn't fall into a ditch!" Yuri grinned as he began jogging away.

"Yuri, Yuri - no. Yuri!" Acnologia warned.

"Just one job! And I'll be back! I have to pay for rent!"

"I will pay your damned rent - Precht will pay your rent! The guild will pay your rent!" Acnologia cried, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation and disbelief.

But Yuri was throwing him a thumbs up and slipping out. Acnologia threw a hand over his eyes and groaned.

"If you don't want to watch him here, you could take him home," Precht offered, coming to Acnologia's side. He'd doubtlessly eavesdropped on the entire conversation. He tended to do that more and more nowadays.

"What? I'm not staying in Yuri's house without him." Acnologia asked incredulously. 

"No, I meant your home, Acnologia," Precht reasoned.

Acnologia raised his brows.

"Your home." Precht pressed.

Acnologia continued to stare.

"Acnologia, where have you been sleeping?" Precht asked slowly.

Acnologia grinned with his teeth and tapped the bar counter.

"You sleep here!?" Precht demanded.

"I guard the guild," Acnologia reasoned. "That is my responsibility."

"You need a house!"

"Why in Ankserham would I? To pay rent? Absolutely not."

"You can't sleep here!"

"And why not? Are you going to stop me?" he challenged, and Precht had nothing to say to that one.

Then he remembered he had a job and shot out of his chair to find wherever Makarov had toddled off to. The answer was the northwest corner, where he was trying to reach an unaccompanied mug of some alcoholic beverage. He was scooped up before any tragedies could occur.

To no one's surprise (except maybe Acnologia's) the sitting was a success, and Makarov couldn't have been happier. Yuri either. He ended up "babysitting" rather frequently, though calling it babysitting was generous as Acnologia left it to the guild to do most of the hard work while he was content to sit back and make sure no one lost their life or limb. 

Sure, Makarov would sit on his lap for hours and babble nothing to the Dragon King with frantic certainties. Sure, Acnologia would listen, nodding and chuckling at the antics before entertaining the boy with a magic light show. Sure, he liked the kid - but was he a caretaker? No, that title had to belong to the Guild and Yuri.

The eldest Dreyar never did get his smile back fully. His laugh returned, though not as frequently, and Acnologia didn't threaten to throw him into walls anymore. Their relationship had shifted into something... solemn yet... kind.

Maybe that was why he resolved to share some of his secrets. Perhaps that's where it all went wrong. Maybe that was why he told Yuri about Rita.

Makarov had been three. The child had been sleeping under one of the guild tables - his decision not the adult's - wrapped up in a blanket with a pillow under one hand. Yuri had accepted that his kid wanted a guild sleepover and took a seat at the bar next to Acnologia, bags under his eyes but a smile on his face.

It was quiet and empty, with two of the five original members sitting at the vacant bar, alone and yet together.

"He's growing fast," Acnologia recognized.

"Yeah... too fast," Yuri chuckled. "I'm going to have to think about school soon."

"Does Magnolia have a school?" Acnologia pondered.

"Yeah, across town," Yuri nodded, "By the cathedral."

Acnologia nodded and swirled his usual coffee around in his cup.

"I wish Mavis could see how big he's gotten," Yuri murmured. 

Acnologia tensed instinctively, knowing what came next. Yuri glanced over at him and let out a heavy sigh - he seemed decades older than he should be.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to say where she is yet?" Yuri asked hopefully.

"I have told you all, over and over: I do not know," Acnologia muttered, his voice tight and his annoyance dripping through every word.

"I just wish she knew that he was doing alright," Yuri murmured. 

"She knows," Acnologia murmured.

"And... I wish... I just feel like we're missing something. It's not like her to run off... I never imagined... I mean I know she and Rita were close but - but for her to just leave? I - I've never been able to shake this feeling..."

Acnologia's eyes darkened at that and he was starkly reminded of Anna... of his own questions and torment.

"I just wish I knew..." Yuri breathed and that broke more than the silence.

"It's okay. It's... okay... to cry"

Acnologia put down his coffee, turned in his seat, and looked forward with a solemn gaze: "Yuri... what I am about to tell you must never be spoken about again."

The tone seemed to catch the man off guard as he looked over, perplexed.

"Alright... though that's a little spooky," Yuri muttered.

Acnologia took a long breath... and then took the plunge.

There was no good way to say it, except to explain it all quietly. To speak to the wood and the walls in whispers and hope it didn't break something. Yuri listened quietly, to the story of Ankhseram, to Mavis' curse, to the clause and the activation - and slowly his eyes sparked with understanding, his brows raising in pain and grief and regret.

When it was all done, Acnologia fell silent, watching the boy's reaction carefully.

"She... she got cursed because of me," Yuri murmured finally.

And of all the directions for the conversation to go, Acnologia should've been more prepared for the self-blame route.

"It is not her fault, and it is not yours either," he stated with certainty, gazing into the mage's eyes. "Do you understand?"

"I got her cursed, and that curse killed Rita..."

"Yuri - "

"Shit, it's my fault," Yuri choked, bringing a hand to his mouth as his eyes began to water.

"I did not tell you this for you to blame yourself," Acnologia growled, grabbing one of Yuri's shoulders firmly. 

"I - I'm the reason she's dead..."

"Yuri," Acnologia snarled and the blonde's attention snapped over to him. "I know what it is to constantly wonder; I told you so you would not waste your life questioning what happened to her or Mavis, but you can not blame yourself for something like this."

Yuri looked to the empty guildhall, his eyes still watering as his shoulders shook.

"So Mavis is out there, cursed and alone... why the fuck didn't you go with her!?"

"She would not let me," Acnologia explained softly. "She told me to stay; and I made her a promise."

"I can't believe it... I'm the reason Rita -  If I hadn't touched that fucking orb -"

"You are not at fault. You were a child."

Seventeen. He'd been seventeen...

Acnologia had eradicated entire nests and bloodlines by that age. Yet... Yuri had seemed so young - he had been so young...

The conversation bounced back and forth in a circle for the next hour until finally Yuri numbly nodded and picked up Makarov before heading home leaving Acnologia to stifle his regret.

Just one more of his many, many regrets.

────── {⋆❉⋆} ──────

Yuri's death came three years later. Makarov was newly six.

He held out long enough for the boy to be of age to be taken into the guild. With Makarov in Fairy Tail's custody, it seemed Yuri was finally ready for his broken heart to kill him. The doctors swore it was an incurable viral infection that had spread too fast to his organs, others claimed it was an old curse from a fallen mage in the trade wars, but as Acnologia stepped to his bedside he saw the tears in the corner of Yuri's eyes and the soft smile on his face.

The Dragon King had waited until the last second - the last possible second - to face the dying man. Maybe, in part, because he knew there was only one way this would end.

"Sorry, Blue," Yuri breathed weakly. "I guess... I guess I can't get used to it"

"You are going to leave Makarov without a father," Acnologia stated simply, not cruelly but lacking any and all warmth.

"I don't want to..." Yuri rasped. "I don't... but I... I don't think I can hold on either."

Acnologia looked to the floor and tried to ignore the weight in his chest.

"You'll take care of him, right?" Yuri asked softly.

"Makarov?" Acnologia breathed. "Yuri, you can not leave him to me -"

"You're right, you're right," Yuri wheezed apologetically. "The guild will look after him, and you'll look after the guild. You've got enough on your shoulders, don't you ol' Blue?"

The blond closed his eyes for a moment, his breaths coming heavy as the bags under his eyes seemed even starker.

"I wish..." he murmured. "I wish I could've seen Mavis again."

Acnologia stood there silently, a shade in a room of death.

"I wish I could've told her that it wasn't her fault..." Yuri breathed.

"I will tell her," Acnologia assured simply. "She will miss you."

"Yeah... and Acnologia?" Yuri asked weakly.

The Dragon King listened carefully.

"Thank you... for everything."

Acnologia only nodded solemnly, his chest tight. It felt wrong to let it end there, as so much does. It felt wrong to just stand there, and so he spoke.

"Greet Rita for me, if there is an afterlife," Acnologia murmured, a rumble in his chest as Yuri's once brilliant magic arua slowed in its crackling, its energy slowly fading into a soft pulse.

Yuri smiled, truly smiled, and nodded with tears in his eyes. "I will... and... anyone else I should talk to for you?"

Acnologia laughed ruefully, hate flowing through his tone as he cursed death and life alike.

"Come on, I know there's someone," Yuri smiled, an earnest tease brightening his face for a moment. For a moment the two of them were years in the past, on a stairwell. Yuri's eyes were heavy because he was a drunk fiance excited about all life had to offer... a blink and that moment was back in the past where it belonged.

Acnologia shook his head incredulously. Even on his deathbed this man... oh, this mortal man...

"Yes..." he answered with his own rasp, a pained smile on his face. 

"Well, come on," Yuri snickered weakly. "Your secret's safe with me now."

Acnologia looked to the roof of the guild's medical bay and tried to blink away the fog filling his eyes; "Her name was Anna Heartfilia."

"Anna's a... a pretty name... " Yuri faded.

"Tell her it will be longer still until I see her," Acnologia murmured and Yuri smiled.

"Will do, Blue. I'll... I'll see you later. Okay?"

Acnologia gave a solemn nod to a lighthearted lie, and took a long breath as the fizzing boundless energy that was Yuri fizzled out into a weak glimmering of a distant star. Yuri Dreyar died that night and Acnologia stood next to a sobbing Makarov at the second Guild funeral, his eyes dry but his form undeniably heavier in the silence.

[Ouch. Oof. This one's got a lil' kick to it -]