We had built it together, back when Natsu was going through phases. It seemed to be that every time he learned something new about me, he became overwhelmed with the urge to confront it. This time had been in reaction to facing my childhood lifestyle with his own eyes. The high ceilings and white walls, everything clean and pristine. Expensive.
There had been no room for fun.
He'd temporarily transformed his and Happy's home into a playground, "to make up for lost time," he'd told me. He had such a genuine smile and his excitement for me emanated from his entire being, I could feel it coming off of him in waves.
And suddenly we had been children again, this time crawling through mud and wildflowers, swimming and splashing, climbing and playing make believe. He had chased me around, acting out the part of the dragon quite efficiently.
Happy had been my knight.
If it had been anyone else who stumbled across us on that day, I would have been beyond embarrassed to be caught up in an act like that, but it was Natsu, and I couldn't have been happier. Not in my wildest dreams.
When Natsu had first put up the tire swing, I remember staring at it with a critical eye. My conflict had wavered between believing in Natsu and his everlasting childlike wonder, and the fact that our newest addition was forged of such shabby materials as a spare tire and a bit of rope. I suppose I couldn't help the sliver of my upbringing, rearing its ugly head with uninvited thoughts.
Then we had played with it every way he knew how.
I had stood on it as we spun together, grasping onto the ropes. Lightheaded and dizzy, laughing too hard to care. One time I had been laughing so hard that my hand slipped and I fell. I think Natsu had been about to catch me before Happy interceded, pushing Natsu out of the way, reinstating that he, Happy, was my knight.
It had ended with all of us falling to the ground in one great dogpile. Our laughter spread through the forest.
At the end of that night, Natsu and I had clambered back into the tire swing. It wasn't a comfortable fit, exactly, but Natsu was warm and as we settled and tilted our faces toward the sky, glittering with stars, it was the most perfect night.
Two days later, Ezra had appeared furious with Natsu. Apparently he had taken the tire from the guild's magic mobile. In his head, I suppose he was killing two birds with one stone, motion sick as he often got. The loss of the car probably had not been of concern to him at all. Either way, the tire had been gone from his yard the next time I returned. All that remained was the rope that hung, tied snug to the stronger branches. It had been a sight worth mourning, but with a new day came a new adventure. Natsu made sure of it, time and again. He was always, always there for me.
I felt my eyes prick with tears as I stared at it now, all these years later. An old rope, occasionally swaying with the odd gust of wind. His quick and thoughtless letter had broken my heart, and the guild's disbandment left no one to pick up the pieces.
I watched it as it hung in the air and felt a sudden flash of envy. I couldn't help the image that flashed through my mind as I did. It was a passing thought, and I had long ago learned to dismiss those. Even so, I could not rip my eyes from the rope as I fought my own mind, desperate to pull away from the dirty thought that infiltrated my mind. Hanging from that rope one last time.
No.
The fond memories of our playtime pulled at My mind, but in doing so they only wrenched my heart.
And why not?
My mother was dead. My father was dead. My family by blood was all deceased.
My family by bond was gone. Dispersed.
Gray and Juvia, Levy and Gajeel. Everyone had someone, and no one needed a Lucy.
"Not even you, Natsu."
Saying it out loud had not been my intention, and It broke my heart beyond more than I ever knew it could be broken. My stomach felt knives and the rope danced with the wind in my vision. It blurred, and I couldn't distinguish whether the cause was my mental anguish or tangible tears.
I couldn't sob, I couldn't even breathe. It was all I could do to stare.
The rope taunted me, inviting. It spoke to me with a deep voice, offering candy and presents and all of my heart's desires, if I just came along.
Would I see my mother again? Hug and thank my father?
The terrible thought struck me that I might see Natsu. I had nothing to convince myself otherwise. I couldn't pinpoint how that made me feel.
Still, the rope danced in the wind.
I stood, and one step at a time, my feet carried me closer. My thoughts had quieted. I could hear nothing, and I could not think.
Reaching out, I let the rope graze over the back of my hand as it swayed lightly in the sky. I wondered if it could make me happy again. I reached out again, this time grabbing it in my held, and for a long, hard moment, I held it still. I felt the old fabric against the palm of my hand, aged and weathered but still hanging strong. For a brief moment, it made me hopeful.
I thought of myself. I am not a child. I am aged, and I am weathered, and I am lonely and cold and tired.
I could not decide if I was hanging or if I was strong. I was on the edge.
I felt a sudden weight on my shoulder and I stumbled, the rope leaving my grasp.
I felt a familiar warmth fill the air, and his light lit up the night.
It took a moment for my mind to process how dark it had gotten. Stepping back, I wondered how long I'd been standing outside today. My cheeks felt wet. Had it been raining?
My mind slowly began to return to me, and without looking at their face, I turned and rushed into the warmth behind me, knocking his hand off of my shoulder in the process and melting into his embrace.
He shone light the brightest star in the sky. He, too, always knew when I needed him. He always showed up exactly when I really, truly needed him.
When I looked up at Loke, his face was contorted in anguish. Had I been in clearer mind, I may have noticed his frenzied state of dress and unusually pale complexion.
"Lucy," he began, affection marred with betrayal and hurt brimming in his voice, "No."
I stared up at him. Uncomprehending. No? No, what?
"I don't understand," I told him, marveling at how awful I sounded. Scratchy and small. What happened to my voice?
He looked at me, long and hard, not releasing me from our embrace.
"You gave me a speech, a long time ago. You found me and you yelled at me and you saved my life," he said, catching my eyes and holding them in a stare. I couldn't break away if I tried.
"You couldn't live with yourself if I died," he said, his voice somehow both soft and fierce and desperate.
Something in my brain clicked, then.
What had I been thinking?
What am I even doing?
Had I almost...
"Loke?" I asked, not sure what I was even asking.
"I can't live without you," is all he responded.
All of my spirits, all of them trusted me and loved me and relied on me, and here was Loke, holding me in their place. How could I even be so selfish? Someone needed me. What would happen to them if I died? The hands they could end up in hadn't even occurred to me at all. I wanted to bawl and yell and punch myself out for being an inconsiderate idiot.
Yet my heart ached still.
The speech Loke spoke of surfaced in my head and replayed as he held me. It had been the site of Karen's grave. He'd been about to die.
The Spirit king had sentenced Loke to be my Spirit forever. That sent a sudden siren of alarm. I had to ask.
"Would you really die?" I summoned all of my courage to ask him. It made my knees weaken.
He looked at me with a wry smile and seemed to think over his next words carefully. When he spoke, he spoke with full honesty.
"If I didn't, she would kill me herself."
I knew who he was talking about. The only one in the world who knew everything about me, sometimes couldn't stand me, and sacrificed everything for me. She understood my loneliness and was unforgiving in her judgement. She loved me unconditionally, and I had betrayed her. As more tears threatened to spill, Loke lifted my face to the night sky. Through the leaves and the trees and the rope in the wind, I strained my eyes until I saw her in the same old glittering sky that never changes and never disappears, and without forcing myself, I smiled.