The river was glistening as it flowed through the dark forest of the mountain ridge. Here the village was completely surrounded by forest, rocks and sky. The village was partially secluded, and farm land was found only around the other side of Mount che รจ enorme. There the lords hired and employed the serfs that live in the small village. Lucy was one of them. She worked out in the field by the day picking grain, planting seed and stealing any heads of grain or corn for herself, pocketing them most of the time. She made sure she was never caught. At the setting of the sun, all serfs would return home, those who remained usually tried to steal grain at this time.

But Lucy knew better. Currently, her feet swayed below her as she waded into the water of the river. Here she attempted to wash her feet in the reeds, washing all the mud and sharp rocks that had caused her wounds down the river bend. Happy with her work, she carefully stepped out onto the dull grass, where her shoes lay. She lowered her skirt that was tucked into her waist so that it once more fell to her ankles. The brown skirt swayed for a second before stopping. Her long V-necked sleeve was a simple dull and fading blue, a luxury that was bought for her years ago by her father to soften the wound of her mother's passing. The dye was fading and only a simple baby blue could be seen amongst patched of grey and white, by the cuffs of her sleeves.

Her hair was held back by a white cloth, tied under her chin and covered the top of her hair, removing her fringe away from her face. This was new. She had sewn the cloth from an old piece of her Lord's shirt, one that was tattered and torn. Yet she found a new use, a new life for it.

In her twenty years of her life, she had always found herself blessed, even though she lived in poverty. They were never paid by the lord. They were rewarded by having 'free' housing in wooden sewn cottages, and a portion of the harvest each season. Winter was the worst. Mainly living from potatoes and grain. Some if they had any, would pour milk into their grain and eat it as a porridge. It was warm and sometimes a good meal, but that would sacrifice the milk that the lords took for granted.

Lucy began to walk up to the huge oak tree. Here her apron lay, and her shoes. She tied her apron around her, once secure she checked to see if the grain was still in the pocket on the inside of her apron. The ears of grain where there. She slid into her shoes and laced them up and tied the not around her ankles. Once she was done, she was ready to return home. She was about to leave when she remembered something. The jade bracelet her mother had given her.

When her father and her were really struggling, everyone encouraged them to sell the bracelet. But neither of them could bring themselves to do it. The bracelet was too important. Lucy had gained it on her sixth birthday, when her mother was healthy. Her mother had previously owned it. It was a gift from her mother, back when 'the land was rich'. Lucy would stay up late to hear her mother's stories of the rich land. She promised her self sometime later that she would tell her kids about the rich land, to create tradition.

She quickly found the jade in the grass and placed the bracelet on her wrist and latched it on. She had a strange feeling each time she took the bracelet on or off. When it was off, she felt loose, relaxed and capable. Well, she was always calm, she just couldn't find another way to describe the feeling. Yet when she wore the bracelet she felt a tad bit confided, and constricted, almost as if she had no way to move. She didn't want to ever remove the bracelet for a long amount of time, so she just went with it. She was probably making things up.

Lucy began to tread up into the village, steeping on the cobblestone road she swung her arms beside her, making sure she had a clear head. Along the way she met Mako, the village baker. She was well off, or maybe their family were. She was poor too, just not as poor as the rest of them. Unlike the rest of the villagers, Mako and her family have always been bakers, owning the only cobblestone hut in the village. Her family bought a portion of grain from the Lord in exchange that they bake him bread every day and to make cakes and sweets on occasions. They were well off, but that doesn't mean they don't suffer like the rest of us. Mako was sweet and kind, and only a few years older that Lucy, with her own daughter Miko, who was about three.

Mako looked up to see who was walking past her and she smiled. "Hi Lucy, how are you?" Mako asked stopping on the path.

"I'm good Ms Mako. How are you?" Lucy politely asked.

Mako blushed slightly. "You don't have to say Ms to me Lucy. Were practically the same age."

"The same age besides a few years." Lucy giggled in reply.

Mako crossed her arms in a humorous attempt. "Well maybe then yes." She stopped for a second. "What were you doing out in the woods?"

Lucy looked in the direction she had come from along the path. She then turned back to Mako. "I was washing my feet, I get cuts along my feet and the dirt in the field make them sting." She explained.

Mako nodded to her self as if she could understand. Mako had never really worked hard in the fields. She had gone out before when she was younger, because she wanted to fit in with the other children of the village, she went for about a week before her father wanted her back at the bakery, permanently. It was due to a close call when the war between Fiore and Ca=elum became a front door issue. Mako nearly got killed at the age of eight, when Lucy was five.

Mako understood and appreciated hard work, she was a baker after all. Up at three in the mornings, burning and scaring her once pale skin, before hiking out to the Lord's estate to deliver the fresh bread for the day at five o'clock. She was also a mother, and a daughter, living with her father and mother. The boy, (Lucy refuses to call him a man) that had gotten Mako pregnant was no where to be seen. He had run away after he was 'delivering' bread on behalf of the bakery. IN which it was found out that he took it and ran, Mako was heartbroken. But now she was doing better and thriving.

"I have salt at the bakery, I'm sure that can do something. If it stings it works right?" Mako suggested smiling.

"That's alright Mako, once I've torn my whole foot open then I'll take you up on that." Lucy replied, cheekily winking at her. "I've got to go; the sun is setting, and I got to get to papa."

"All righty." Mako replied. "If you ever need anything let me know, yeah?"

"Yeah. See you." Lucy waved and began to walk again. She arrived at the middle of the village, where the well resided, sitting alone and sad, only a few patches of flowers and mushrooms sprouted around it to keep it company.

Lucy lived in one of the huts that surrounded the well. Her lantern by the door was already lit for her, probably by her friend Juvia. She had been coming around lately to help Jude. Lucy's father.

Lucy opened the large wooden oak door and stepped inside. Her shoes made noise with the dirt ground each time thy made contact. The fire was already lit, and it looked as if something was being broiled in the iron pot above it. In the other corner of the one room cottage, was Juvia, sitting on the double bet with Lucy's father.

"I'm home." Lucy spoke, closing the door behind her. She placed her apron on the small round table that could seat about four, squished of course. "What's in the pot?"

Juvia turned around to face her friend. "Juvia put some grain with wild blueberries into the pot. Juvia also added some spices she has as well."

Lucy raised an eyebrow at her friend. They weren't extremely close, yet Juvia had offered to help Lucy's father when he got sick in the winter, and it has only gotten worse now that it was spring. Juvia wasn't from the village, she was a wandering traveller, and a weird, mysterious one at that. She had gorgeous light-blue hair and eyes. And she wore blue all over with a touch of white. Lucy suspected that she was a run-away daughter of some lord, with all the blue. Yet Juvia assured her that in her country, blue was affordable. Which made Lucy wonder, who her friend really was.

Juvia rose and walked over to where the fire was. She stirred the pot and a small pop of escaping steam rose up. "Juvia thinks it's ready."

She grasped the long rod that was keeping the pot hovering and quickly remover it from the fire, placing it down on the floor with a thud.

"Lucy?" A groan arose from the corner.

"Yes papa?" Lucy replied walking over to the bed. She sat down and placed her hand on top of her father's.

"You're home." He rasped out, eyes closed and voice obviously dry.

They had concluded that whatever her father had, it was not contagious, after many months of caring for him, they had not once been sick like him.

"I am.' Lucy replied, holding his hand in her lap. "Juvia has made you some food."

"I can smell it." Came his reply, a small cheeky smile emerged and then slowly faded.

"Papa, stay awake so you can eat." Lucy prompt, shaking his shoulders.

Juvia appeared beside them, bowl in hand as she watched the two of them. "Do you want Juvia to smack him awake?" She asked, with almost no emotion.

Lucy looked at Juvia baffled, as her friend began to raise her hand.

"I'd like if you didn't" Came Jude's reply softly from the bed. "I'll sit up."

He shuffled himself to sit upright, with the sack pillow resting behind him. He took the bowl from Juvia with a thank you, before he started to sip it down.

"Juvia thinks you're getting better." Juvia encouraged, holding her hands together. You could see in her eyes, Juvia had bonded with Jude over the past couple of months. Jude found her endearing and Juvia found him peculiar with his 'odd' remarks.

"I can't thank you enough Juvia." Luc spoke, standing up to hug her. Juvia hugged back and they both stood there for a moment, embracing and holding each other.

"Lucy has helped Juvia more than she knows." Came Juvia's reply. "Juvia wants Lucy to know that you mean a lot to her."

Lucy smiled, and they pulled away. "You mean a lot to me too."

Jude continued to slurp his meal down and the two of them stood there in silence, until Juvia's stomach grumbled.

"I think you are hungry Juvia." Lucy laughed.

"It appears to Juvia that that is so." Came the reply.

For the rest of the night, the girls ate and put Jude back to sleep. He was breathing deeply and that comforted Lucy to know that he was improving from the shallow breaths he usually took. Lucy hide more of the grain she had stolen in a clay jar. And the two of them checked the small dirt patch that resided under the bed. They had moved it in winter to plant potatoes of their own, growing under the bed.

They peered under, but it didn't look like any from the second harvest were ready yet. They had only gotten one harvest from this makeshift farm, and Lucy was grateful for the idea, because it had saved their lives. In winter they had no grain left, only half a loaf of bread and water. The potatoes found then saved them.

"Juvia can't find any tatoes." Juvia whispered.

Lucy giggled quietly. "Potatoes."

"Juvia knows."

Lucy giggled a bit more, she found that her friend was a bit funny in all her emotionless state. But that was what made Juvia, Juvia.

At the end of the night, Juvia left, leaving to go to her own home. Lucy thanked her repeatedly for all that she has done for her father and her. Juvia just replied with a "Juvia will see you tomorrow, you tatoe."

Lucy was content, she left the fire on, slipped off her shoes after undoing them, and had climbed into bed next to her father. The covers were simple sheep skin, but Lucy would soon warm up thanks to the fire. Lucy shivered a little bit as she got comfortable. She felt for her father's hand, it was warm and that reassured her that he was alive.

"Goodnight Papa."