summary: He doesn’t expect her to win. Not in the face of her defeat. Erza-centric drabble.
warning: Spoilers for Chapter 482.
notes: Just harkening back to when Erza broke the illusion of Neinhart’s Historia. A drabble-ish thing. Honestly this is just a short Erza tribute. (Although I don’t think I’ve written this as well as I would have liked. Ugh.)
When Neinhart draws on Erza’s memories, he expects her to lose.
After all, she is sword-to-sword against the foes that she has feared the most—the ones that fill her nightmares and leave her sleepless, the ones that broke her down in the middle of war and told her she was shit, the ones that she only won against by the skin of her chattering teeth—and she already comes to him tattered and tired, her skin littered with cuts and dried blood.
So he cackles to himself as he finds the cracks in her determined gaze and fleshes her fears out of them.
He summons the three of them—Ikaruga, Azuma, Kyouka—before her. He knows that Erza has beat them before, yes, but that was when they were alone, and he is sure that not even the so apparently magnificent Titania can defeat the three of them combined—especially not when her own sheer terror is what is fueling their power.
She can’t win, he resolves, and he sits back to watch the show of scarlet defeat—an ending the Queen of the Fairies will bring upon herself.
But Neinhart has her completely wrong.
Erza is not a warrior because she is strong.
Erza is weak through and through.
She is soft from her kind forgiving heart to her bruised battered flesh. She is scared of many things, and she has cowered behind others. She needs the support of the ones she loves and cares about, and because she does not find meaning without them, she will wrap herself in armor and bandages and splints that are stronger than her tired body and insecure mind.
Erza is not a warrior because she feels no pain.
Erza feels the pain. Every sting, burn, lash. Every wound, rash, tear.
But she does not suffer. Suffering is when she tries many times and cannot muster the will to try again. And Erza has already done that. She has suffered once when her muscles ached with miles and miles more to travel. She has suffered once when she fell asleep at night and found that, even wrapped up under the blankets and covers, she was still cold and alone. She has suffered once when she saw names on gravestones and when she heard long-dead voices. But Erza does not suffer again. She recovers.
Erza is not a warrior because she defeats her enemies.
Erza does not defeat them.
She defeats herself first. She holds her blade before her and aims straight ahead—but each one of her swords has two edges, and while one side charges forward, the other slices through her own boundaries and limitations. After all, if she cannot cut through her own doubt, how can she expect to do the same of her opponents?
Neinhart has her completely wrong.
He thinks that all she has is strength, thick skin, and the ego that comes with an unblemished record of victory. He thinks that she will not be able to defeat the trinity of foes if he were to overwhelm her—make it impossible for her to vanquish them.
But for Erza, the victory is never the win of a fight.
Erza never simply kills her enemies. And Erza never simply destroys them. She learns from them.
She remembers each and every single fight—the moments she was at the edge of losing, the obstacles she faced before them, the mistakes she made before them—and she remembers how to overcome.
This is what makes Erza a warrior. This is what makes Erza strong.
And unfortunately for Neinhart, she remembers the enemies now standing before her best.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’
– Matthews 5:38
summary: Erza discovers her past is more than what she sees.
warning: Spoilers for Fairy Tail 482 and 483.
notes: I’m fucked up, y’all. But let’s just SAY that Eileen is Erza’s clone, created from her lost left eye. But beyond that, I think that this will be my last Lady Eileen thing. You can take a deep breath now. I’ll go retreat into a corner.
more: If Nui Harime’s theme started playing in your head, I’ve done my job.
For a moment, Erza thinks that she’s staring into a mirror at herself, but the grin reflecting back at her is much too wide, much too sinister for it to be actually her.
“I’ve been waiting for ages to see you eye to eye, sister.”
Erza is unswayed. “I don’t even know who you are.”
Her self-proclaimed sibling giggles, uncharacteristic of the large broadsword standing against her hip, the platinum armor that covers her mature body, and especially the ragged scar trailing down her right abdomen.
“Oh, Erza,” she croons. “I’m surprised you don’t even suspect it.”
She leans over her weapon, placing her hands on top of the hilt and resting her chin on her hands. She smiles amusedly at her.
“It’s not a coincidence that we share the same hair. It’s not a coincidence that we share the same blood. It’s not a coincidence that we share this same fight. It’s destiny.”
The only person that she will accept using that word is Jellal, so hearing it off of someone else’s tongue rubs Erza the wrong way.
“I didn’t ask to meet you.”
“You’re not even the least bit curious?” Her sister frowns. “I’m so hurt, dear sister. I have spent my entire life getting to know you and learning everything about you. Our fates bound us together and I knew I would eventually come to meet you.” Her frown turns back upwards. “That’s why I trained every day with the Spriggan 12. I knew I would come to eventually defeat you.”
“I think I’ll be the judge of that claim,” she says, her grip on her fight-hardened blade tightening.
“Ah, well there can only be one of us after all.”
There was only one time that Erza has heard that sentence before—and she thought the alternate universe was already locked away and her goodbyes said to the other world. Slowly, Erza reminds herself that this is still her own world, and if there is one other her—
“Remember this?” she asks Erza, pointing to her left eye. “You lost this, didn’t you?”
And even more slowly, Erza puts the pieces together—
A crooked smile creeps over Eileen’s lips. “They built me from you,” she remarks casually. “So I am you—but just a better version. I am you if you had grown a little rougher. I am you if you had been swallowed up the shadows. I am you if you had unlocked your full potential.”
Erza’s stomach curls. And she’s not sure if it’s the idea of destroying herself or if it’s at the sight of her own eye staring back at her.
I’m not Eileen, she tells herself, even though she’s looking into her own brown eyes and scarlet hair. She isn’t me. I would have never become like that.
She keeps telling herself this; and the more she repeats this, the more she begins to worry she’s only telling herself this because she thinks she’s lying to herself. She’s already forgiven him for what he did and didn’t do, but she’s not sure if she’s ready to come face to face with the same kind of guilt that trapped him for seven years. She’s not sure if she’s strong enough like him to reconcile the differences—which are all too much the same.
“A shame that I’ve aged seven more years while you’ve stayed in that body,” she cooes, her voice circling Erza’s mind like a serpent teasing its prey with a hope of escape. “I was hoping that no one would be able to tell us apart.”
Erza’s eyes widen as wide as her sister’s smile, for a moment, she can’t tell the difference.
summary: Erza discovers her greatest strengths are simply her weaknesses.
warning: Spoilers for Fairy Tail 482 and 483.
notes: Yeah, fuck. I have a new character obsession. But okay, let’s just say that Lady Eileen is Erza’s long lost sister that eventually Erza has to encounter in battle or something (but like let’s be real, she totally needs a fucking break right now). And then some tragic “Zuko vs. Azula”-like stuff will happen with “nakama” winning out in the end—who the fuck knows how Mashima is going to work out this one.
more: Also, sorry. I’m terrible with titles.
Their swords have been fighting for a couple of minutes, but as expected in warrior families, the blades do most of the talking.
Her sister’s sweeping strokes are remnant of her own, except they carry a different history altogether. The way she keeps one hand casually at her waist while the other parries tells Erza that she is never defied and the way she keeps a firm unmoving grip of her hilt tells Erza that she never chooses to be defied.
Given her luxuriously thick and healthy mane of scarlet hair and narrow set dark brown eyes, it doesn’t take long for Erza to put two and two together.
Her sword catches a chip on Erza’s blade, and Erza holds it balanced there, her two hands shaking on the grip of her weapon, her teeth gnashed together between her pursed lips. Lady Eileen casts a downward gaze at the battle situation, her sword arm unmoving.
“Weak,” is the first word that Erza hears from her sister.
Erza looks back at judgmental eyes, marked by royalty and full of unmet expectations.
“This is not how I remember you, dear Erza. You were stronger than this.”
She hates that Eileen calls upon her so adoringly. It’s sickening sweet.
“You should have stayed in the palace with us instead of choosing to leave with Mother,” Eileen continues. “Father didn’t have anything against you—it was really just Mother that he wanted to banish.”
Erza doesn’t remember very much about her mother. She thinks it’s because she’s repressed most of it, but she’s beginning to realize that despite not being able to piece together her mother’s face, voice, smell in her memories, her heart can still burn red hot for her.
“You would have trained to be so much better if you had stayed with Father and me.”
“We just started fighting, Eileen,” Erza interrupts calmly. She can’t hear anymore. “Let the swords do the talking.”
Her sister offers her a pitiful gaze. “I think I know where this conversation is headed.”
“Then stop talking.”
Erza leans forward and throws her body weight into the blade. She slips past the sword lock and rolls onto the ground behind her, immediately swinging her body around to guard herself from her sister’s definitive slice downwards.
Eileen’s eyes narrow and her lips curl in a smirk. “I never stopped.”
Erza struggles. She can’t bite down any harder on her lip and she can’t sweat another drop. She wants to give up. She could give up. But she won’t because she shouldn’t. Her body aches after days of endless of fights and her mind pulses after hours of stressful confusion.
She closes her eyes briefly to catch a breath, amidst her straining muscles—but her sister notices immediately.
“What happened to you, dear sister? You’re so weak. Did your friends thwart and distract you from your full potential?”
“You’re the only one in my way right now,” she spits back.
Her sister tsks. “You’re just like Mother. Being stubborn was one of her greatest strengths. Nothing else more though.” Her eyes glance back at Erza. “You know, that’s why she wasn’t able to protect you in Rosemary Village when you were kidnapped to that Tower—“
“Don’t you talk about Mother like that!” Erza snaps. She crunches her torso and stabilizes her core, pulling her sword out of stalemate and slices in that same split-second way that has made her fighting-famous in Fiore.
It’s possibly a surprise—but probably not—that Eileen is able to catch her attack with a flick of her wrist and a steadier grip.
Eileen smiles. “I was the one that taught you to fight, remember?”
Erza doesn’t deny this. Every move that she’s made, her sister has been able to brush off. It’s as if every fundamental tenet she’s learned about how to wield her weapon is exactly what her sister can predict of her. It’s something—aside from her scarlet hair and brown eyes—that Erza cannot deny traces her lineage back to her older sister.
Family ties are hard to break.
But as she looks at the narrow space between their blades and the open open attack point just beyond her sister’s ankles, Erza realizes that she doesn’t have to be stronger than her sister in order to defeat her:
Erza returns a smile. “Wait until I show you how to win.”
summary: Blood is thicker than water, and Erza chooses scarlet.
warning: Spoilers for Fairy Tail 482.
notes: Forgive me. I’m obsessed with Lady Eileen atm. She’s almost a completely blank slate and I am totally off the reins.
There’s a moment where she realizes that she isn’t in Jellal’s safe protective arms anymore. That might have been just under a minute ago, but to Erza—her eyes closed shut and her imagination wild—that could have been forever.
“Bring her to me.”
Her eyelids are still heavy and she can barely lift them. But she hears the voice and it sounds so familiar and Erza cannot fathom why until she forces her eyes open and completely understands.
When Erza sees her older sister, she stares. Eileen is so beautiful, so beautiful it’s as if Erza was built off just off a crack of her armor. Erza’s hair pales in comparison, Erza’s eyes are dull in the light of hers, and Erza’s titanium strength is nothing against the alloy shimmer of her armor and the callused scars over her skin.
“Erza?” her voice asks softly.
Cold fingers tuck under her chin and lift her head up. She’s eye to eye with someone she’s never remembered meeting, but yet looks all too similar to the bad dreams her subconscious mind forgets.
Erza says nothing. Her words are caught in her throat but the terrified and anxious answer on her face reads an undoubtable yes.
“Erza…” the woman repeats, as if singing a song she can’t get out of her head, and hasn’t been able to get out of her head for the last ten years. She puts Erza’s chin back down and clasps her hands together. “Erza…it’s been so long since I’ve spoken that name. My tongue misses it dearly, just as I have missed you, dear.”
Living in Alvarez has given the woman a slightly different accent, but the goosebumps running under her skin when she hears the voice tell her that Eileen and her nightmares are one and the same. Her mind is foggy before Rosemary Village, but the more and more the woman speaks, the clearer her memories become.
And Erza is even more afraid that she will remember.
“Mother and Father were oh so worried about you being influenced by me,” Eileen explains to her. “They sent you away and I never forgave them.” She turns and smiles at Erza. “Never.”
Her eyes sparkle like death. And Erza realizes why she doesn’t remember having a family.
“But now I have found you again, dear sister,” Eileen muses happily. “And now we can be together forever.” She swoops down to embrace her younger sibling. “Mother and Father will never be able to break us apart ever again. I made sure of that.”
Erza breathes carefully. Magnificent her sister may be, but up close she smells like stale iron, old blood and grief.
“Come now, sister,” Eileen commands her. She pulls away and casts an adoring gaze on her. “I have a spot saved for you in the castle. It’s been waiting for you for more than twenty years.”
She takes Erza’s hand and pulls her forward, but Erza tucks her heels into the ground and remains rooted. At the feel of tension, her sister turns around, looking confused.
Erza wants to be clear. “No.”
Eileen’s smile falters. “No?” she asks prettily.
“No,” Erza repeats.
“Blood is thicker than water,” Eileen reminds her.
“It is,” she agrees. “That’s why I am staying with my family.”
Her sister’s smile completely vanishes.
“Erza, you will come with me and you will live up to your name. The Buresion throne awaits.”
“I won’t.”
“Erza Buresion—“
“I am not Erza Buresion!”
Silence first, and then the slow turn of metal armor, the steady clank of her footstep, the smell of death nears her again as Eileen bends down to look straight into her eyes. “Then who the hell do you think you are?”
It’s only been a moment since she was embraced by her sister’s restraining grasp, but the memory of that is already so much duller than that of being within Jellal’s warm arms, within the cheers and fanfare of her long time family.
“Scarlet,” she replies without a beat. “I’m Erza Scarlet.”
She watches her sister’s eyes turn black, her hair go red in response to her defiance—and Erza is ever so proud that her scarlet doesn’t fade.
my friends I’m sorry but my mind went on a long drive and came back with too many Lady Eileen potentials and yes I’m going to write most of them up so I’m sorry about the impending spam
