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Chapter Text

Leo was, despite his official designation and overall life’s purpose, not much of a politician. Sitting around a circle, talking in circles, didn’t appeal to him much anymore. Not after a lifetime of doing it.

As a Zodiac, he tended to have special permissions on missing out on meetings, and he tended to abuse that. Usually, he’d just pretend he was Called or injured, keeping away from Cassiopeia and Camelopardalis so they wouldn’t catch him out on the lie.

This was not one of those times. Leo was tired- wrist still sore from a gone-wrong mission with another incompetent summoner- but he’d still found himself being strong-armed into the Celestial Throne Room. Of course, it was Cassiopeia who caught him this time. It almost always was. You would almost think that she was a Higher Council member, considering how much she tutted on about it.

Her gloved hand clenched around his good wrist (at least she was being nice about it) and dragged him down the hall. He stumbled, almost tripping over the train of her dress.

“-really, Leo, must you continue to skip every important meeting of this human century? I can feel how your irritation stirs, but that is no true reason to be so, so-“

“Lazy? Slothful? A total slacker?” Leo offered sarcastically, twisting his hand free and shoving it into his pants’ pocket. “C’mon, Cass, must we do this every day?”

She stopped at the large, overpowering doors which lead to the Throne Room. Cassiopeia sniffed, arms crossed against her chest, “I am simply worried.”

“Worry about yourself!” He said, restraining himself from growling out the words, “With how shitty ‘contract’ idea has been working out for us, I’m sure you’ve been dealing with much worse than me. If those- those humans can barely respect a member of the Zodiac, how do they treat you?”

She was silent for a moment, before she said, much softer than before, “If you care so much, Leo, then do something about it. After all, you  are seated at the King’s ear, are you not?”

And with that, Cassiopeia curtsied, and left him. The heels of her shoes made little clicks that echoed up and down the hall. He couldn’t help but watch her for a moment, still looking so small within the walls of the palace, despite her tall stature and stiff posture. Leo was shorter than her, and tended to slouch, and he was pretty sure the hallway practically swallowed him.

With a defeated sigh, he turned back to the doors. There was no point in fighting it now- going all the way back to the Celestial Plains would just be a waste of time. So, with one hand still in his pocket, Leo pushed the doors open, glowing with an energy only a Higher Council member could have.

He was hit with the familiar rush of noise instantly. Wincing and cursing his enhanced hearing, Leo skirted around the grand table (its proper name was so long and so old that he generally avoided saying, or even thinking, it) to the side with the golden chairs. His own was the closest to the throne, and he found himself waving to Virgo and Gemini on the way down, and getting caught into a friendly chat with Sagittarius. Ophiuchus sat in a prone silence, at her particular end at the table. She nodded to him respectfully, and he heard a hissing sound come from somewhere .

Leo tried his best to focus on the world at hand, but he felt dizzy at how little of his own were attending the meeting. Most were like him- they attended to their duties when they could. Only Aquarius, Scorpio, and Taurus were prone to actively skipping. And how he remembered, before the contracts, and before the keys, when the only reason to miss a meeting was simple disobedience. Now, less than half could make it- whether it be due to injury or a Call.

Gritting his teeth, he looked past Sagittarius’s shoulder to the other side, where the Council of Giants sat, talking amongst themselves. Of their 12, 9 were attending. Of those missing 3, Leo was sure only Circinus was contracted, while Bode was probably just being lazy. Hyde just never went to these kinds of things. Actually, Leo was pretty sure he hadn’t spotted Hyde in over a human century- just as he liked it, probably.

Of course the Giants were in majority. Their keys were actually rare. The way the Zodiacs were originally meant to be, before the humans began to just pass them around like hot potatoes instead.

Trying to wipe away his bitter thoughts before he accidentally said something treasonous about the King, Leo dismissed himself from Sagittarius and found his seat. He rubbed at his temples, just hoping that the meeting would start soon. It was 30 minutes past the official time, but that always happened. The King was never early. Or on time, really.

“-ey! Hey! Leo! Hello~”

Leo looked up. Xi was waving at him, in the 2nd seat from the throne. He was maybe one of the most, well, ‘human-like’ of the Giants, but he was more of a mass of twirling stars molded into a bipedal shape. Leo could see the masses of dark matter that one could call eyes widen beneath the bill of Xi’s cap, eager for attention. Xi’s hand shed stardust as it moved.

“What.”

“Wow, you’re in a bad mood! I just haven’t seen you in, like, a human decade. I’m surprised you even showed up.”

“Blame Cass.”

“Hah!”

“Please shut your mouth, Xi. This room gives me headache enough without your added chatter,” rumbled The Evil Eye, sliding into their seat across from Leo. They were a being whose form could barely hold itself into a single shape, and not even their trench coat could hide the rupturing turning of their body, or the swirls of stars that wrapped themselves around the table like heavenly roots. Their single, red eye bore right into Leo.

Why did he feel like he was being judged?

“It’s been a while,” Leo started, trying to to sound like he hadn’t been cursing his existence only a few minutes ago, “did I miss anything important?”

“Nothing for you to know,” The Evil Eye said coldly, probably still annoyed at him for skipping out on so many meetings. Like Cassiopeia, they were a stickler for the rules. Though, unlike her, they actually held some power.

Xi didn’t seem to get the memo that he should be mad at Leo, and he continued to chat noisily at him as they waited for the King’s arrival. “-and I’m not trying to accuse Pieces of anything, but I heard they weren’t actually contracted right now. And they’re not exactly here…”

“Let them take their break,” Leo said, annoyed despite himself. “Or do you not think a mother and son should spend quality time together while they have their few days of freedom?”

“W-well, no-“

“Until you have to deal with what we do, I don’t think you have any right to complain about how we spend our time. Skipping High Council meetings or not.”

Xi had no way to argue with that point. He (if leo was still up to date with his facts) had only ever been Called a few times in his existence. And his last Summoner had been killed in an accident- caved in and likely never found. The poor girl’s bones could probably pass for ancient artifacts now, along with the pair of Tungsten keys lying right beside them. Still, he opened his mouth to argue, like the idiot he was. His fingers seemed to deconstruct and reform with a nervous, offput energy.

And, really, Leo was ready to argue back. He would yell at anyone that would let him, at this point. Feeling like a cat about to catch the canary, he waited for Xi to say something stupid, so Leo could finally-

A massive wave of magical energy hit the table, and all at once their pointless chatter stopped. Leo moved his head to the right, away from Xi, just in time to see their King take His place at the head seat- the Celestial Throne. He rose in time with everyone else (all instinct now, really) to bow.

The Celestial Spirit King nodded, and they all sat down once again. If Leo had counted right, He was 48 minutes late to the meeting. A painful ache sparked in Leo’s wrist, and he rubbed at it absent-mindedly.

“A mere human decade ago,” He began, “I was petitioned by a woman named Layla Heartfelia.” Leo jerked at the familiar name, unsure exactly where this was going. Wasn’t this Aquarius, Cancer, and Capricorn’s holder? He turned his heads, eyes searched for their empty seats. Where were they now?

The King continued, “Her line is long and respected, so I lowered myself to hear her plea. To me, she said, ‘It is on this frozen night that I ask you to look upon my child. She ails with a kind of star-sickness- energy a pulling moontide’.” Leo rolled his eyes, and he was sure he spotted some others doing the same in the back. The King always remembered conversations more grandly than they actually occurred. “Intrigued, I laid the essence of my hand down to touch her daughter’s heart. In it I felt the girl’s crystal heart, and felt her leaking magic, which was reminiscent of star dust and some greater kind of cosmic essence.

“She was a rarity- some type of Star Child, born to some powerful, Holder family. ‘If she was made to be something greater’, I told Layla Heartfilia, “she would not have been born human.’ I knew her mind could not comprehend the kind of power such a soul could have- far too much for a measly mortal form- and so I did not explain further. This power will pass, was what I thought, that mere human decade ago.

“I will admit to my wrongdoing in this instance. The power has not diminished itself as expected, but rather grown inside the child. Some beautiful, Celestial parasite from her heart unto her soul. Ages ago, this was realised, but until today- the day of the elder Heartfilia’s passing- I had not the courage to admit it. So here I shall say: the Heartfilia girl falls under Celestial protection- by our Queen Night and your King of Heavens.

“Lucy Heartfilia will not pass on, even long after her mortal form rots. And we shall learn to watch what exactly this child becomes.”

With that, the Celestial Spirit King stopped, his tale apparently over. Or, well, caught up to the now of things. Some beings of the High Council rose and bowed again- a mere courtesy of respect- but Leo couldn’t bring himself to.

The entire thing had given him a headache, honestly.

A “Star Child” was not a completely foreign concept to Leo- though the appearance of one was rarer than rare. But the past human centuries had been ruled by mortals tinkering with time and the Spirit Aether surrounding it. He’d even heard something about the Eclipse Gate being touched in recent years. It was only expected, Leo thought, that a kid like Lucy Heartfilia would be born. (perhaps, in some way, it was cosmic retribution against some poor mother of a tainted blood. the ethernano in the girl’s system likely converted to aether after only a few years…

their King was correct after all, leo realised. there really was no chance of the kid living much longer if she continued to stay away from the Celestial Elements)

Still, the Celestial Spirit King had not gone back on a decision since… Well, Leo couldn’t quite remember, which was probably point enough. Something bitter rose up from the back of his throat, and he tried pretending he couldn’t taste it.

He could tell the rest of the High Council thought similarly, though the smarter ones were good at hiding their unease. Leo could see the twins, the Maffeis, whispering frantically to each other all the way at the other end. The Evil Eye was watching him- Leo could just sense it. His eyes met their discerning aura of cool curiosity, it was like they were waiting for him to lash out right then and there.

Well, joke’s on The Evil Eye with that one, Leo may’ve been a being made solely of Holy Light and a stubborn, celestial burning, but he could at least abide by diplomacy when the time called for it. And, the King’s court wasn’t exactly a moment to start yelling, as much as Leo wished that he could right now.

And so, Leo let the Council speak among themselves- murmur their agreements like they had much choice to do the contrary. If they argued with the Spirit King, it was likely this girl would die, barely make it to eleven before her blood would begin to boil with an inhuman heat, and her flesh casing would be unable to contain its own self. Celestial Spirits were ancient, sometimes callous, but none exactly wanted that kind of blood on their hands. That was why Leo decided to speak on it later, for the King might take any argument as a vote against the life of the child (to which he really would rather not).

It came out on a vote: 11 to 0, in favour of ‘aid the child’. Three had abstained, all Giants. How typical.

Their King nodded once with approval, and the motion passed. Excused, the other beings began to rise, making small talk and milling about lazily, but still beginning to clear out. Well, Leo didn’t. He had no true intention of leaving yet, not until he said his private piece.

Across from him, The Evil Eye gave him one last discerning look, before vanishing in a cloud of dark aether. Xi, coughing from all the dust, gave Leo a smile and a wave that he would’ve rather not received.

Virgo had been moving up along the table, until she was standing right next to his seat. He looked up, caught the blank, unimpressed look on her face, and hoped his smile was charming enough to not get Virgo of all Spirits upset at him.

“You are planning something,” she said, direct (and correct) as always.

“Just a chat.”

“No,” Virgo narrowed her eyes at him, like she was trying to peek through the blinding light of his soul, and into something else inside him, “something more important.”

Leo stayed silent, knowing she would never actually try to stop him.

“I need to go, but… I support you Leo. I just wish you wouldn’t push your luck so much, one day you may be punished for it.”

“Thank you,” he said to her back, knowing she could still hear him, even if she wouldn’t respond.

Soon, it was only he and his King left in the room. Centuries ago, Leo knew he would’ve said nothing- done nothing. Maybe taken comfort in the idea of hope this change sparked for all of the Celestial world and his Spirit kin besides.

It was not centuries ago.

“So,” Leo said, jaw clenched, “you can admit you’ve made mistakes. That’s new.”

The King sighed, almost like he was expecting this, “I have given the matter great thought, Old Friend.”

He looked away, trying to hold down his rising temper. Nothing was meant by that wording- or, Leo assumed that was the case. But nearly two human centuries of constant dismissals was getting to him, and it hurt a bit. That this girl, not even a 100th of his own existence, had made the King change his mind on something. And the girl had only suffered a decade.

What about Leo? What about the Celestial beings who suffered under the hands of ignorant humans daily?

The King had promised them peace with the humans- peace and power and respect- but that promise had rotted with the centuries. And now the humans had forgotten the respect that him and his brethren were owed, had forgotten tradition much older than Fiore itself, treating them like disposable trash (leo’s wrist twitched again, the throbbing pain gathering at the hollow of the bone). Earthland had, overtime, become a graveyard of old tradition. And if even the Zodiacs were not spared from it- even him- he could barely imagine the suffering of his Silver kin.

The humans had spurned them, and the only one who refused to acknowledge was their very own King. He had done nothing. No matter the time, no matter the reason. Leo doubted that He would budge even if their Mother Night had woken from Her slumber to request it of Him, Herself.

Instead, here they were, trapped in some long memory.

Leo could not let this development in their King bring him false hope- and yet, could he really just let this chance go to waste? What was it Cassiopeia had said?

If you care so much, then do something about it.

So, holding his head high, Leo the Lion, head of the Zodiacs, first of his legend, petitioned his Celestial King once more.

“My King, Father of Light, if I may speak to you again on the keys of…”

(not much later, the King sat on his Celestial Throne, hand to his head. His sigh came heavy, something ancient in his exhaustion.

there was a hole in the wall of the palace, still burning from the power of blessed Light itself. and outside stood a lion, feeling so small inside the hall. he walked and he walked, something hot and righteous still tossing in his chest.

the stars, scattered sparks braided into the Queen Mother’s hair, gossiped among themselves, repeating back: my final word is spoken)

Chapter Text

Capricorn was not a being that slept. The most comparable thing he could think of was the Celestial Death, which functioned rather differently than the human equivalent. And besides, he had not touched the Queen’s Realm since the founding of Fiore, when a king (not The King, of course) summoned him against- well, perhaps that shall become a tale for Lucy, when she grew old enough to hear it.

The point was that, being what he was, Capricorn had never truly been able to learn the difference between a slumbering human and a dead one. That was perhaps why it took him so long to notice that Layla Heartfilia was not alive.

It had shaken him, to acknowledge how much time had passed before he’d realised that something was even wrong. He had summoned himself forth with his own power (he often did this now, as layla’s magic grew weaker and weaker by the day), and began to rummage about the room. He had taken to finding books on the shelves to read to Lucy- a way to keep her entertained at her mother’s bedside when she was too tired to speak- and his mind had been set on a specific one. The room was quiet, but that was relatively normal for a sleeping human. He hadn’t felt Layla’s magic, but he had grown used to the feeling of that once-powerful energy withering away into nothing.

It was when Capricorn wandered near the bed, moved to brush a strand of hair away from Layla’s mouth, that he realised she was not breathing.

In the weeks following, he had found little reason to leave the mortal realm. Officially, he was in Lucy’s hands, but the girl wasn’t able to keep his Gate up, and so Capricorn did it himself. Her father barely tolerated him- Capricorn could tell- but did little more than snub his presence entirely. 

The feeling was, in a way, reciprocated.

Jude Heartfilia was not a man of strong emotion, the only being who did not shed a tear at his wife’s funeral. Capricorn could see a kind of sadness pinched around his eyes, so it was clear he still grieved, but it was a foreign kind of grief. One that Capricorn could not bring himself to comprehend. Whatever his thoughts were, they were between only himself and whatever spectre lingered by Layla’s grave.

Still, this left Lucy’s father with little will to look or even ask after her. Jude had requested the servants to do so, but they had sheepishly foisted the task to Capricorn when their other duties overwhelmed them (this began to happen more often, as the manor’s layer of grief slowly vanished into smoke and memory- leaving only a busy man and his bustling staff).

He suspected that her father knew nothing of this wordless arrangement between him and the workers, nor that he had begun to refashion the attic into a kind of second home, for when Lucy needed him for longer than a day. It was not much, functioning more as a bookroom than anything, as Celestials such as himself had no need for mortal sleep. But occasionally, the young Heartfillia would sneak inside, claiming she was not tired at all.

Capricorn found that she was rather easy to put to bed, once someone bothered to read her to sleep. (he began to keep blankets in the attic a mere week in, suspecting this was to become a trend).

Lucy often liked to ask him questions. This was not a new development, as she had always been a curious child, trailing behind Layla during garden walks to ask after the lessons her tutors had failed to properly teach. Never, however, had this habit of hers been turned towards him- but, with the absence of both her mother and her father, Capricorn supposed it fell to him to give Lucy the right answers. After all, he could not let a child live their entire life with all of their questions left dangling and unfulfilled.

“When mom died,” she asked one night, with all the delicateness of a wrecking ball, “did she go to the Celestial Realm?”

Now, Capricorn had not been expecting- well, he had, but-

Ultimately, he had found that death had been a hard subject for him to think on lately.

Capricorn had closed his book, placing it gently on his lap, and for the first time in over 200 years, did not have an answer, “Why do you ask?”

“Someone said that she became a river of stars and then was eaten by a Queen.”

Quite startled, he adjusted his glasses, wondering if Lucy’s father had begun speaking nonsense to her. In truth, it sounded somewhat familiar to how the souls of Celestial-bonded humans met their ends. It was a beautiful ritual, created by the Mother Night before she had begun her rest over two centuries ago.

But, Capricorn was unsure of what had become of Layla. He hadn’t the time to ask. Yes, he just hadn't had the time.

“Who told you this?”

Her eyes wide and unblinking, she said, “I heard it in a dream.” 

“Ah, well, dreams are enigmas of the mind. They can reveal important things about oneself, but do not carry much import on real world topics, such as death. Although, this is merely from my own observations, as I do not personally dream.”

“Oh,” Lucy sounded almost disappointed, before brushing the feeling away for a more enjoyable one. Her head tilted, and she tucked his knee beneath her chin, before asking, “What does ‘enigma’ mean?”

And, with rather considerable fondness, Capricorn dutifully answered.

The longer he stayed, the more he noticed how often the young Heartfillia slept. It was likely just the habit of a growing child, but the longer her nights became, the greater Capricorn’s paranoia grew.

(layla had slept nearly fifteen hours every day for the two months leading to her passing)

(layla had died in her sleep-)

For nearly two human weeks, he refused to even state the thought outloud, to openly acknowledge that there was a problem to worry about. Soon, though, Capricorn gave in, deigning to pester Crux within his realm of sleep and swamp.

There were no stars there, only a constant, growing smog. Leo had once joked bitterly that the muddy waters and sky was every human thought to have ever been conceived. The idea had frightened Aries to tears, which had led to the Lion blubbering apologies for what had seemed like a decade since.

Like the rest of them, Crux was an old being. He laid between two unknown crossroads, where the marshland met dark trees. His eyes were closed, and Capricorn made no noise, though the mud had risen to his knees.

Though no speaking was done, and he had not announced his presence, the Cross merely said (though stuttered though a snore), “All will be well… with that young girl of yours… patience, patience…”

His words felt near condescension, but Capricorn knew Crux’s intent was always pure, just as his words were true. A Spirit like him, one that could see the threads of all knowledge with history, existence, and time was perhaps more omniscient than any being in this universe. Capricorn knew that Lucy would have to be okay, because Crux had spoken it aloud.

When he returned, Cancer was soliciting Lucy to cut her hair into some odd, unserious style. Holding back a sigh, he urged him back into his gate before any chaos could be caused. 

Not one to be easily offended, Cancer accepted his defeat with grace, and did not return. This time, at least. (truly, capricorn found that he was seeing far more of aquarius and cancer than he had in years. cancer came voluntarily- easily torn from any Celestial duties for the sake of entertaining lucy. aquarius was apparently a favourite of lucy’s, and she would summon her in any body of water she could find, whether it be a puddle or a lakebed. 

this was nothing new for the young heartfilia, who had always been gifted enough to summon aquarius from a young age. however, three times in one month was a record count- and, if capricorn recalled correctly, it seemed aquarius stayed far longer than she used to. using her own Gate energy to turn a five minute summon to one several hours long)

Lucy, already recovered from Cancer’s banishment, rubbed her eyes. Yawning widely, she told him, “I’m tired. Can I go sleep now?”

Capricorn frowned, sensing the time to be barely past the 18th hour. This was not usual for her, he was certain.

“…You have been sleeping more than usual.”

“I’m tired more than usual.”

“Why do you think that is? Don’t feel like you’re not sleeping well? Sometimes humans have things such as nightmares- they are as untrue as dreams, but often far more troublesome.”

Lucy shook her head rapidly, “No, no. I have lots of dreams, but I like them. They seem nice.”

“Oh,” Capricorn, quite faintly, “I suppose that is good, then.”

“Sometimes, though, it’s just really hard to leave them,” she said earnestly.

Capricorn put his hand to her head and replied, “I am sure dinner is ready.”

Lucy grinned, as she was wont to do in moments of these kinds, and skipped off- likely readying to convince the staff to double her dessert.

He watched her walk then turn down the hall, smothering the rising worry. It was as Crux said, all he needed was to execute a little patience.

In time, all would be well.

One gloomy summer night, answers were given. Once Lucy was safely in bed (not her own, but at least a bed) and the house had become still with silence, Capricorn closed his gate. He had been out for three human days, and though he had not used much of his power beyond keeping the gate open, Capricorn could feel exhaustion starting to take hold. Often, simply existing within the Celestial Realm for a few minutes was enough to renew his energy, but he could sense that his body needed closer to a human week to regain its full power.

It was truly an unacceptable waste of time- he knew he could not abandon Lucy for long. Even a compromise of three days felt long and frivolous to him.

However, Capricorn was not a being of irresponsibility. So, yes, his Gate closed soundlessly, a soft pillow replacing Capricorn’s knee under Lucy’s head. Then, faster than the millisecond between the closing and opening of a human eye, he was gone.

And for a single, dazed moment, Capricorn could not tell where he had appeared. He was certainly inside a building, confirming he was not somewhere in the Celestial Plains, and the walls were far too tall to be his own residence-

“Capricorn,” rang the Spirit King’s voice from behind. He turned quickly, easily falling into a bow. Of course, it was the Celestial Palace. He should have known.

Capricorn raised his head and adjusted his tie, though he kept sure that his horns remained angled low enough to stay respectful, “My King.”

The Celestial Spirit King was large. Capricorn knew many other words that could describe their King, but this one was the most obvious- the most impactful. His power came from not just the stars, but from the very essence of Light itself- unknown galactic energy. It often became oppressive, to simply exist in the same room as him.

However, Capricorn had duties. There was Lucy, whose strange fatigue had only grown. Surely, it was not the same illness as Layla had. That particular form of magic deficiency could not be passed- was not contagious, nor affected by genetics.

And he had a duty to listen when his King spoke as well. By nature of his existence and the King’s own benevolence.

“You tend to spend, now, much of your time in the realm of humans.”

“I do, my King.”

“How do the Heartfilias fare these days?”

At that, Capricorn tensed. Of course the King knew exactly where he had been spending his time. It had been foolish to expect otherwise. 

“Not well,” he answered- truthful, but not quite saying all he wished to say, “Layla has died. Almost two human months ago. From a degenerative, magical illness. We can only blame the Eclipse Gate, I believe.”

The Spirit King sighed, head turned low in some kind of action of guilt. A brief silence struck Him, and Capricorn let his King sit in it. Perhaps a sign of respect, or maybe a signal of his own silent upset. Neither would likely ever figure out which.

“The Heartfillia girl,” the King began again- almost haltingly, “how has she been?”

“She…” he searched for the words, knew that they could not truly describe her loss in any tangible way, “Lucy is grieving.”

He hummed, which shook the floors with its power. Even this world is fragile under the thumb of its King, Capricorn thought mirthlessly, though there was no ill will in it.

“That girl… I fear there is something strange about her. Some power, inverted from the Eclipse Gate to Layla Heartfilia to her child. Born with some power of the stars, her body will soon be unable to process the ethernano in her surroundings- her soul becoming greater than Aether and hotter than Light itself. A ‘Star Child’- I am sure you recall the term.”

His voice drifted past Capricorn, to the other side of the room and into the universe itself. Embedded itself into Capricorn’s universe. Despite this, He continued, “Of course, the matter has all been voted and sorted on- you missed the proceedings in which I told the sordid tale in its entirety. For you see, Layla begged this of me a mere human decade ago. How much can happen in so little time!”

Adjusting his glasses, not knowing what else to do, Capricorn attempted to process the information one word at a time. He was alarmed- this he knew well, some kind of anxiety beginning to swarm and boil his blood. This knowledge was certainly something he should have known already, something he did not wish to know now.

But, truly, the only question he could bring himself to ask was this: “How long does she have?”

“Two years,” He said, solemnly, “Her body will not endure it, once her magic becomes nothing but the elements of Aether and Dust and Light. That is, if we do nothing.”

Capricorn felt something hot and burning in his chest rise to his throat- if he was a being that required breath, he was sure he would’ve choked on it. His hands, once stiff by his side, formed into fists that shook and shook and could only keep shaking. “Why did you wait so long?”

“I, too, ponder that often.”

The heat rose further, burning his tongue and spreading into the bone of his jaw. Suddenly, he could name the feeling: helplessness. Some kind of unseen ache eating up at him.

“You said, my King, ‘if we do nothing’. What can be done?”

“Yes, yes, that was it! The meeting was resolved with my announcement: I will aid the young Heartfillia. Though her human vessel is limiting and frail, continuous exposure to Celestial energy will give her body the strength to survive past its expected limit.”

“By that, you mean remaining in the presence of her Spirits? If that is the case, I-”

Capricorn’s words were cut off by sudden, thunderous laughter, “Oh, my boy, you have done enough! Your dedication to the Heartfillias is certainly admirable, and I trust your loyalty to stay firm, but this task is not one that can stay within the human world. Neither is it one to be completed by you.”

“Ah,” he stayed rather still, attempting to find a thought acceptable to say outloud. A respectful request for clarification. Yes, that was what Capricorn needed, “What exactly does that mean? A human child, no matter her potential, cannot simply visit this realm.”

“I have taken it upon myself to create a way for the Heartfillia girl to dream her existence into my Kingdom. It is ghost-like, her presence, but all her human senses remain and the pressure of time is escapable. And, of course, mere attendance of a King is all that is needed to accumulate her body to our elements. Soon, she may be able to walk among us like a spirit.”

The King laughed again, as if heavily amused by the thought. Capricorn found himself adjusting any future lessons he had considered teaching Lucy, finding that while history was important, this child would need to learn control before anything else. Capricorn, at the very least, could handle that.

“You are the reason, then, why she has been sleeping so often. I suppose.”

“And I will say, Capricorn, she is a rather curious one!”

“Yes,” he agreed, quite vaguely, feeling rather distant from his own skull, “She’s a lovely child.” Capricorn could only assume their meeting was at its end, as the Celestial Spirit King sat nodding to himself, and stroking his beard with a certain level of self-aggrandisement. At least, he knew, Lucy would be safe (although, mere moments before he had not known that there was any danger at all. the wonder of it, really).

It was a strange, tepid silence that sat between them, in that grand room of His. It was like they were both waiting for something- the King all-knowing, while Capricorn sat in some unknown dark.

And then he remembered.

Unable to resist the horrid temptation, Capricorn asked his King one final thing, “Where is Layla now?”

Face somehow gentle, He replied, “The dear girl is one with the stars now, my boy.”

It was a happy truth, some honourable end. A lovely woman now hung somewhere in the lovely sky.

Somehow, still, Capricorn could not find an inch of peace within himself.

Outside the Celestial Palace, Aquarius was waiting, balancing on the flap of her tail and slouched against the wall. It was an image perfectly constructed to create a single, unflappable impression: I don’t care.

“What was that all about?” she asked as soon as Capricorn stepped through the doors, automatically shattering the illusion.

He sighed, tempted to take off his glasses and rub at his eyes. They were dry and irritated, likely covered with stardust, despite all protections. “Our King,” he said, carefully watching the way Aquarius’s eyes narrowed, “has an interest in Lucy. He has been visiting.”

Face immediately scrunched into a scowl, Aquarius demanded, “How can- He can’t just visit the human rea-“

Capricorn tapped his head, the fur under his right horn. Right on the temples.

“So that’s why the brat’s been so tired lately. Hasn’t said a thing about any dreams to me…” she muttered, somehow looking more irritated than before.

“I should-“

Aquarius cut him off sharply, “Take your time off, Capricorn. Caring for a brat is far above our contracts, and you know it. We don’t even have a contract right now.”

He adjusted his tie, brushed his thumb over the ring on his index finger, did not look her directly in the eyes. “Rather, I feel that-“

“No. I don’t give a shit what you’re feeling right now. Go and rest for a few human weeks. If there’s an emergency- you’ll know,” her hands clenched into fists. She was looking at him. “I promise, okay? Unless my word isn’t good enough for you?”

“I suppose it is acceptable.” Capricorn amended, but still didn’t move- simply shuffled his feet, feeling strangely undignified. Usually, he was not the one being kept in line.

“You’re not the kid’s mother, and you’re definitely not her dad, got it? Get a hold of yourself.” She scoffed, “It’s just a brat.”

It hurt a bit to hear that, and something painful in him spiked at those words. Capricorn wasn’t Lucy’s father, no. However, he had known her for her entire life, had loved Layla in- well, some kind of way (he still wasn’t entirely sure if-), and Jude Heartfilia was not exactly a man he trusted to do right by a little girl. And, though perhaps disrespectful to the Rules and Order of the universe, he wasn’t quite sure the King would be telling Lucy the sort of things children ought to be told (He did not have a gentle touch, as was perhaps the respectable way to put it).

Capricorn did not, truthfully, have any authority or much experience with children, but he held some strong, warm feeling in his chest for her. (was that not enough?) Although, in the face of an angry Aquarius, he found it wiser to lose this particular battle. Something like fatigue sat heavy on his shoulders at the thought, weighing down his neck and arms.

He finally nodded, though his steps were slow to land as he walked down the hall. After a moment of silent trodding, Capricorn turned around, only to find that Aquarius had already vanished. Likely to the human world, and even more likely of her own volition.

Yes, he clicked his tongue, definitely just a brat.

So perhaps she had won this battle. The war, though- that, Aquarius had yet to win. Capricorn couldn’t help but smirk a little at the thought.