So uh. I know that I said I would write a second part to my other lucana fic. But this idea just wouldn't leave me be so this is the result of a dream, a concept of fevers, and a lot of sexual frustration. Enjoy~ ;D
She never had dreams. At least, not ones that she could remember. Blackouts from frequent alcoholic binges tended to render her mind devoid of experiencing whatever her mind would conjure while she slept off her substance abuse. But whenever she did dream- and it was usually when she was sober- she would dream about her mother's grave. Her grief as a child echoed inside her still that never truly left her as an adult. Cornelia Alberona's life was significant to little Cana, a catalyst of what she aspired towards the older she got, and her death was keenly felt even in adolescence. That her impression of her mother, even in death, stayed with her beyond her childhood and carried over into her dreams showed just how deep her bond was with her mother. In her dream, it was more or less remembering the memory of being at her grave than an actual dream. At least with memory, she knew the ending, as somber and depressing as that was.
Small sounds of mourning in the rain. A tiny fist desperately rubbing her grief that poured from her eyes that flowed without end. Desperate, pleading cries for her mother to come back when she knew there was no coming back from death's judgment.
These memories, when she remembered them, always left her mouth dry and feeling sick.
But there were times she did dream.
She didn't recognize it as a dream at first. It began in a familiar setting, like another one of her better memories, this particular one she held near and dear to her heart.
Her surroundings were familiar yet one she had only ventured to this particular place once; it was hard to tell it was even a dream when the place held a keen sense of solace for the brunette. Shale pink walls and warm wooden floors surrounded a comfortable living space that suited a well-to-do single woman. A bookshelf and vanity faced opposing walls, while a quaint little kitchen stood adjacent to the living space slash sleeping area. A coffee table stood in the middle of the living room held two steaming mugs. She felt a comforter against her shoulders covering her back was soft and warm. A subtle, familiar scent of apples and something floral that was pleasant and homey permeated the room, an appropriate scent that fit the person that belonged to her.
All these sensations drawn from her memory evoked a feeling of safety. This wasn't a surprise to Cana. What was a surprise was her surroundings, though familiar were... different. This was Lucy's apartment, there was no doubt. She had only visited a handful of times, but there was no mistaking the care that the celestial mage gave to give her home personality, a sense of belonging. Cana couldn't say whether decor really mattered in a home, but just being surrounded by four walls alone showed a difference in how one made a structure into a 'home'.
Now pondering over this didn't hold much merit for the card mage. To begin with, she was feeling too lazy to bother looking at the small details of what was likely a dream-memory created from her own mind. Especially when the only one person held Cana's attention that made everything else nothing more than a distracting background. But the atmosphere gave her a comfort not felt often in her life, which Cana secretly longed for herself.
In this memory, Lucy is dressed exactly like that night. A rendition of her usual outfits: a short-sleeved shirt and jacket with pleated skirt and boots. A belt holding her whip and keys. The night where alcohol and depression cracked the tight lid that covered her secrets. The night where her inebriation decision to collapse amidst snow-covered barrels and bottles earned a friend's compassion and equal concern. And empathy. A night where apathy and despair disappeared by the determination of her friend's conviction.
"You won't be alone Cana. I'll be your partner, so you don't need to leave the guild."
Hearing the conviction in her voice still stunned the Cana. She remembered thinking how kind Lucy was. No one else bothered to ask Cana why each year when the tournament was held what her stake was in. No one at the guild ever took her seriously when she declared she would leave the Fairy Tail if she failed to become an S-Class Mage. To them, becoming S-Class was something earned. Perhaps for most, it was simply another means of earning more money. And in a way that was true. But not for her. Not when her goal held such a personal significance.
No one else took the time to ask her why she was so desperate to become an S-Class Mage. No one sat down with her and heard her tale of loss, of hopes that crest to youthful heights; the discovery of a man who was admired and drew inspiration. No one thought to ask about the circumstance of her joining Fairy Tail; she, an orphan seemingly without family, seeking a father only spoken in a will that her mother left behind: a love who abandoned his wife and daughter.
Of all the people Cana trusted and kept close to her heart, only one unlocked her secret. No one but Lucy seemed to care about Cana and her story. She was the only one who wished to understand her. Cana felt humbled. She wanted to cry- she did cry, the relief was so overwhelming that her eyes shined with tears.
Why? Cana thought. Why go out of your way to help a failure like me? She never got to ask that question. Even as she expressed her gratitude towards her friend, the question lingered on her tongue, a prominent inquiry that haunted her even after their excursion on Tenrou Island. Her compulsion to indulge in her question now, for this was her dream, was brought to the surface.
"Why...I've failed so many times, it feels pointless to continue trying. I've given up- everyone has given up on me. Why haven't you done the same?"
The Lucy in her dream silently looks at her, her expression inscrutable to her eyes. For a moment, Cana almost believes this dream-memory was real. Her anxiety spikes a degree and she tugs her bottom lip with her teeth nervously. The silence stretches several beats. A moment later she walks around the table separating them toward the brunette until she stands and kneels before her. A hand reaches and cups her cheek, a gesture of tenderness and comfort that startled Cana, yet she doesn't shy away from the gentle touch. Her thumb brushes against the curve of her cheekbone, sweeping back and forth in a tender rhythm that soothes Cana's nerves. The gesture puts her enough at ease and her eyes draw to a half-mast.
"Because," Lucy says with a soft quality that Cana picks up as kind. "I know you want to stay. I know you want someone to see you, to see what you've done and be proud of you."
"Your father...Gildarts may not know you as his daughter," She said while continuing to caress her cheek. "But you are more than just that. You're..." Lucy paused, a shy look painting her features, her words faded as her cheeks suddenly grew pink. Cana held her breath.
"You're an amazing woman Cana."
I know this is a dream. Cana knew this with absolute clarity. Yet she couldn't stop herself from indulging in this fantasy. Her lips parted as a soft sigh fell, then inhaled deeply, taking the scene of apple blossoms in her lungs. The taste on her tongue made her bold. Made her act on a dare that she would never act upon in reality. But in her dream, she could yield to her deepest desire, one she kept locked inside her heart to never let out. Shame held no place inside her fantasy.
The brunette found herself leaning closer, the space between growing smaller and smaller. Cana noted how Lucy's eyes retracted, her pupils dilating the closer the lush approached her until they were nose to nose. Their breaths fanned against their skin, a mix of cloves and whiskey blending with sweet blossoms and crisp apples. The scent alone was intoxicating, enough that Cana could blearily become drunk off of.
"I'm nothing special Lucy," Cana murmured.
Lucy shook her head slowly. "You are to me," she said simply.
"If anyone is amazing, it's you, Lucy." Cana retorted solemnly. "You've done so many amazing things. I've done nothing to earn your praise. But-" She interjected when Lucy opened her mouth to protest. "I know you wouldn't believe me. You have more faith in me than I do in myself. I wish I had the same faith."
Quiet lulled between them where they simply sat together, basking in their closeness without inherent questions ruining the intimacy between them. Neither seemed aware of how close they got nor did they make any attempt to separate. The hand to Cana's cheek continued its soothing rhythm, hypnotizing her to close the minuscule space between them.
Breaths mingled and shuddered, their scents intertwined like a physical thing as lips parted in a soft gasp. Cana's head tilted as she leaned in-
-and promptly woke up with her mouth tonguing her pillow.
Cana's muffled curse lost any authenticity when her mind was caught in the intimate throes of her dream. It took her a moment to realize that she was in her apartment, on her bed with her arms cradling her pillow like she was holding a lover. Her disappointment was palpable as she slowly sat up, the sheet falling off her naked torso as she set her pillow down upon the mattress. A hand lifted, carding through her disheveled tresses as heat flushed her skin, leaving her woozy and uncomfortable. Lust, thick and tangible coiled deep in her belly and spread across her skin.
"Fuck."
Her soft expel was paired by her fingers threading deeper in her hair, tightening briefly to her scalp, bringing a shock that brought to her body to wakefulness. It did little to ease the heat in her belly, but her thoughts held clarity.
And Cana wished for the mind-numbing bliss of sleep .
Yet the dream and what she was about to do in the dream still gripped her, leaving a physical presence behind that was hard to shake. Cana cast a glance to bottle on the side table beside her bed. The temptation to down the entire quarter of the liquid inside rode with the desire to take care of the pressing burning inside her. With how she felt right this second she could use a little liquid courage. A war within her was fought between two desires for a scant few seconds before the lust coursing through her won.
" Fuck ."
Her curse came with her suddenly throwing the blanket off her legs before she dashed towards the bathroom. She shimmied out of her panties, kicking them on the ground before jumping into the shower. Turning the knob brought a blast of cold water to pelt her torso, bringing a strangled yelp and a shiver before a low moan followed along as the water quickly warmed. Pleasure slowly bloomed as she allowed the stimulation of the water's temperature to heighten, bringing the burning inside to a brink that nearly made her knees buckle. Harsh panting joined the chorus of the rest of the noises resonating within the bathroom as her hands caressed and fondled her flesh. Fingers pinched sensitive tips, lightly tugging to the point of pain as another fluttered to the pulsating crux at the juncture of her thighs.
Just a slight touch at the small swollen organ brought a shout to resonate within the bathroom. She was lucky no one else was close by to hear her, though Cana was beyond caring while she frantically stroked her flesh to the precipice of an intense orgasm. The combination of her fingers pulling and plucking while the pressure and temperature of the water made short work of the card mage. A sudden violent wave rose, the intensity stealing one last cry before Cana's movements against her skin ceased and she leaned against the shower wall in a heavy slump.
"Fuck..." she whispered shakily.
There was a saying that things that come in threes would lead to something satisfying. Cana wasn't sure if that principle applied to her case, but it didn't hurt to hope, right?
If I'm lucky I might have someone in my bed by tonight.
Or she would spend her usual night at the bar nursing another barrel. Alone. As always.
With that thought prominent in her thoughts, Cana sighed tiredly. She was tired of her routine. As familiar and comfortable as she was with going to the guild to hang out and drink with Wakaba and Macao, she needed a break from the monotony of her routine. With the dream still lingering, the need for a distraction made her decision. She would go on a job. Time away from the guild would build her character, maybe even earn her enough money to pay off the tab at the bars she frequented.
She definitely owed Mira the funds for the alcohol she consumed at the guild.
And there was definitely no other motive that involved one mage with a perchance of using keys...
The brunette groaned.
"This is gonna be a long day."
Cana would learn just how right her prediction was.
I definitely plan on continuing this, despite my track record of unfinished projects lol. I don't have a definitive timetable on when I'll write the next chapter but if enough people show enough interest it would be an insurmountable motivator in helping me write! Please comment and let me know what you think and thank you for reading!