I Leave You, My Pride

A Lion's Love

The grave was empty. Everyone knew that even as they stood around it and listened to the funeral sermon. After all, the person it was meant for had not even been human, and he had no body left behind to put into the ground.

When Loke died, he simply faded from existence.

The entire black-clothed crowd kept glancing to Lucy. They knew this was hardest on her. Maybe she had not been there during the entire three years when he posed as a human, but Loke had been her loyal Celestial Spirit for a long time ... some said they were "more than friends." She used to fiercely deny it while still blushing.

No one dared to tease her now.

Gray watched her a little closer than the others, and he had made sure to stand beside her during the prayers and sermon over the grave marker. He realized she was not crying. Her eyes, obscured by a black veiled hat, were empty. She stared at the tombstone as if it did not even exist. He knew full well that she had cried and raged for days after Loke's death. Now, nothing. Maybe her tears were all used up. Gray was not sure, but one thing was certain.

Something more was wrong with Lucy. She did not look merely grieving. She looked preoccupied, as if something even worse than losing her loyal friend was weighing on her mind.

After the funeral, the crowd went to the guild hall for drinks. There were no wild parties this time, no crazy music and boisterous drinking contests. There were whispers of "I still can't believe he's gone," sudden bursting into tears, people praising Loke, talking about fights they had seen him win, times they dueled against him when he posed as a human, and for the girls, the times he had flirted with them, all told with bittersweetness. Even Erza admitted she would miss his attempts at flirting with her ... although she nearly killed him for doing it.

People wanted to hear Gray talk about Loke being his partner, but for the Ice-Make wizard, talking about the past was pointless. It hammered in the sadness, which he did not want at this moment, not when he was more worried for Lucy. He drank to numb the sorrow—he could mourn another day—and kept an eye on the black-clothed woman with her golden hair shining against such morbid clothes. Lucy sat alone. It seemed that no one was really sure how to talk with her, and she avoided eye contact with everyone.

Like a widow at a funeral, a few whispered, but Gray did not see that in her. He saw someone focused within, troubled by other thoughts than this funeral without a body.

Lucy looked even more pale in the black clothes and veiled hat. It was wrong of him to think this way, especially on a day like this, but Gray could barely help but think that black looked sexy on Lucy. He pushed that thought aside for the moment. She had finally stood up, and she was coming his way.

Lucy whispered to Gray to come with her. He rose and followed without questions, sincerely hoping she would tell him what plagued her mind so badly, she had not cried one tear during such a touching sermon. They walked through the crowd of mourners to a storage room where they could shut a door and block out the noise. Once alone, Lucy let out a soft sigh. Her face flinched for a moment, as if she was hiding pain. Again, Gray felt tugging concern for her.

Lucy reached her hand out, clutching something hidden within her fingers. Uncertain, Gray presented his palm. A cold and heavy item dropped into his hands. Gray looked down at the golden key, and then stared up in confusion. For a moment, the post-funeral gathering in the guild hall faded away. Only this storage room existed, and his only vision was of Lucy and the gold trinket sitting in his hand.

"Loke's key?" he asked in confusion.

"The Key to the Gate of the Lion. My key now," she said softly.