Chapter Text
Giotto finished wiping the bronze fittings on the bow of his gondola and sighed. It was that time of day when Magnolia was not yet bustling with activity, which meant no tourists would be calling for his services, nor would any local ask him to take a parcel across town.
The only thing breaking the silence was the sound of a wooden oar against the water.
Beside him, leaning against the long rudder oar, his younger brother, Gino, let out a yawn. Gino wore his headscarf slightly askew and had the relaxed air of someone who owed nothing to anyone, having been single for who knows how long. Giotto, on the other hand, was already thinking about what would happen as soon as he got home. He had a wife, Dona, who managed the money from his work professionally, and two children who must already be at school by now.
“It’s going to be a quiet day today, brother” murmured Gino, smoothing his unruly hair beneath the bandana. “All that’s in store for us is taking a couple of boxes to the sewing workshop and, with any luck, giving a ride to a couple on their honeymoon.”
“Don’t get too confident, Gino,” replied Giotto, adjusting his own bandana and gazing out at the canal. “You know how it is, especially with Fairy Tail being the guild in this town.”
Seeing the worried look on his older brother’s face, Gino couldn’t help but laugh. Ever since they’d arrived in Magnolia in search of opportunities, they’d been warned they’d have to deal with Fairy Tail. For a couple of years they’d had no trouble; the thing was, like any other resident, they’d started bumping into them during events or simple brawls that spilled out of the main building and into the city.
For both gondoliers, the result of ten years on the job was three broken gondolas and so many shattered oars that they’d lost count.
“Worried they’ll break the oar again? I doubt they’ll want to do that after Master Makarov gave them such a telling-off.”
“I hope so, but the truth is, you never know how things might turn out,” admitted Giotto, taking the oar in the oarlock and beginning to guide it to steer the boat. “Come on, finish tidying up the back. We need to get moving.”
Gino nodded and they set to work. From their delicate boat, the city of Magnolia was nothing but stone and wood, with the banks of the canals offering a glimpse into the lives of its people. There were onlookers who watched their movements with admiration, others who shouted out asking for their rates, and those who already knew them called out to hire them to transport goods. The brothers responded, promising to do one thing or another. A routine that, as gondoliers, they knew perfectly well.
It wasn’t until mid-morning, as the gondola glided along the central canal, right where the cobbled pedestrian stretch had no barrier to mark its end and served as the main route to the Fairy Tail building, that they saw her.
“Hey, Giotto,” said Gino in a whisper, slowing down his rowing. “She’s not from around here.”
Giotto looked up and saw her: a young girl was walking along the path. She had blonde hair and was wearing a short blue skirt and a white sleeveless T-shirt, revealing a pink badge on her right hand. She had a rucksack slung over her shoulder and, most strikingly, was holding a map unfolded in front of her face, so focused that she was stumbling as she walked.
The sight immediately struck Giotto as endearing, reminding him a little of his own children. So many years of sailing meant he could tell when someone was new to Magnolia.
“Poor girl, she looks lost,” he remarked, glancing at his brother. “And it looks like she’s already joined Fairy Tail.”
“The guild hasn’t taken on any new members for a long time,” Gino recalled, looking more closely at the girl. “I think its bad reputation with the Magic Council is putting people off joining.”
“And how do you know so much?”
“Because I’m an avid reader, brother.”
“An avid reader of gossip magazines, you mean” Giotto corrected, receiving a sneer from Gino before he turned his attention back to the path. “Come on, let’s see if she needs help.”
Adjusting the oar, Gino positioned the gondola to approach the left bank of the canal, and just as the young woman reached the edge where the cobblestones became more uneven with potholes, Giotto straightened up at the stern and blurted out,
“Hey, miss, that’s not safe!”
The brothers watched as the girl jumped in fright. As she moved, the map slipped from her hands, and the bag on her shoulder began to fall straight into the water. She let out a shriek and, in a surprising maneuver, stretched out her leg, stopped the bag with her knee, and caught the map in mid-air.
As she looked down and met the astonished expressions of the two people in the gondola, the look of fear on her face transformed, almost as if by magic, into a nervous smile.
“Good morning!’ she said to them. ‘I’ll be careful, I promise!”
“That’s what everyone says, then they fall in, and we have to rescue them, miss,” Giotto remarked in a fatherly tone. “My brother and I noticed you were lost.”
“Well, yes, it’s just that I…”
“You’re new here, miss, there’s no doubt about that,” said Gino in a more playful tone. “Would you like to tell us where you’re going?”
The girl, embarrassed at having been caught out, explained her dilemma to the two brothers: she was looking for a flat to rent on Strawberry Street, the very street they were on, because it had been recommended as a good place to rent due to its affordability.
Fortunately, she was only a couple of bridges away from her destination, which immediately cheered the girl up; after jotting down the address, she thanked them for their kindness and promised to return the favor one day.
Giotto nodded, pleased, and with a precise stroke of the oar set the gondola moving again. Behind him, he could feel his brother’s expectant gaze.
“She seems like a nice girl,” he remarked in a low voice, without losing his rowing rhythm, whilst watching out of the corner of his eye as the blonde figure continued on her way. “Far too polite and well-groomed to end up in that madhouse. She won’t last a month before she runs away from the chaos.”
Gino let out a half-hearted laugh, leaning against the load as he watched the young woman disappear from view.
“Give her time, brother,” said Gino, winking at him. “I reckon she’ll be all right; the current brought her to a good spot after all.”
Giotto’s only response to his younger brother’s attempt at profundity was a click of his tongue and a gesture for him to keep his attention on what they were carrying.