Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, allusion to rape/ non-consent, harsh language.
Brimstone Garden,
A Bred-in-the-Bone story.
This was her third time in this tent, and yet, it wasn't any easier than the first. She was still scared and still mostly blind in the smoky dimness. Her eyes watered endlessly. She squinted and clutched the prize in her hand, the little strip of gold that dug into her too-hot palm.
A scrap of shadow shifted in the back corner, drawing Lucy's attention.
"Hello?" Her voice was much, much too quiet to be heard in the cavernous tent. A millisecond later, her question was thrown back at her, mimicked by a hundred creatures she couldn't see, all speaking in tandem. "Hello? Hello?" The sound came from everywhere before it consolidated, slipping from one black as pitch shadow that snuck across the dirt floor and licked at Lucy's boot, tasting snow and salt and city waste. Fear, too, as it slid up her leg, caressing her knee.
Lucy's skin lifted in goosebumps; the urge to fight the shadow off was overwhelming. Don't. Don't. The last time she did, she insulted its mistress so badly, the priestess refused to see her for a month. Lucy didn't have another month to waste.
That icy shadow was at Lucy's thigh. She was in tights but she could feel its cold press into her body. Gods. "Priestess?"
There was a cleaned and dried carcass of a wolf, strung up against the canvass behind Lucy. She swore it laughed, the bones knocking together roughly. Lucy turned to look at them, tense, and watched the woman in question pour out of the skeletal remains. It was unnatural, a dead beast giving birth to something very much alive. Lucy clutched her coat to her throat, feeling her mother's necklace beneath the down-filled fabric. She'd finally dared to put it on. She already had nightmares, so why not? Lance Henbridge, a man manipulated into killing girls that looked like her in order to draw END of out hiding was long, long gone.
Long gone.
There were other demons in her life now, ones she willingly visited. Like the woman before her, tall, willowy, skin as dark as coffee beans, eyes of a wolf, spiders sewn through her ratty dreadlocks, bone dust making her lips white. She was evil through and through, though she held the moniker 'Priestess'. Lucy didn't like dealing with her, every time she did, it felt like she was taking her life into her hands.
Whenever her resolve wavered, she closed her eyes and reached for that place in her dreams, where Natsu lived and breathed and touched her face, kissed her lips, told her he loved her before he made her bare and made love to her.
"Miss Heartfilia. I thought you wouldn't return," the priestess spoke, scaring off the shadow that had been circling Lucy's leg. Lucy blinked, back once more in the wide canvas tent in a city on the border of Alverez. "Imagine my surprise." Her accent belonged to bayous. She moved like a fey, half wolf, half woman, circling Lucy like she was prey.
Lucy spun to keep the woman in her sights; too easily she imagined she'd be launched at, her throat torn apart. "I've thought about your offer."
"Oh?" The woman cocked her head to the side, a sly smile on her mouth. "And what exactly did you think about it?" Tink, not think.
Lucy swallowed and stretched out her hand, palm up. The golden key she clutched glinted by the light of that gently cracking fire. She kept her eyes away from its red and white cap.
"You will give me the lion?"
"If you give me the name of the enchantress that has the key that will open a demon gate."
The priestess' lips curled back, revealing large yellow teeth and black gums. "Yes?"
"Yes. And where to find her." She tried to think if there was some other concession she should add to the mix but couldn't, her mind was whirling too much. She thought she left fear behind when she watched Natsu burn up on that hill at Kardia Cathedral. She was wrong. So wrong. There was a lot she was still afraid of: not getting him back. Not knowing him if she did. Not knowing herself. What wouldn't she do, what wouldn't she risk, to have him at her side again? As of yet, Lucy hadn't found a limit. She was only two months into her search, she was sure that there were plenty more dark and dangerous things she'd have to do.
The priestess reached and reached her long fingered hand. Her nails were black and filthy, bruised and dead looking. Lucy remained perfectly still, allowing her to curl her hand around Loke's key and remove it. Immediately, Lucy wanted to take it back and start all over again.
Keep going, keep going. She found mettle from somewhere.
"You impress me, Miss Heartfilia." The priestess took the key and slid it between her full breasts. Immediately it was lost in her dark skin. Lucy pressed her lips together to keep from uttering something stupid. "You already know your enchantress, though."
"No, I don't," Lucy denied.
"Oh, yes. And she knows you well, too."
Lucy clutched her hand into a tight fist. "You promised me a name. And a location, not riddles. Tell me." It wasn't wise to anger the priestess; Lucy couldn't find a shred of caution.
The woman smiled. "Such fire."
"A deal is a deal," Lucy said.
"Until you deal with a devil. You're not cunning enough for this path," the priestess said.
Lucy clenched her jaw and reached into her pocket, bringing forth what she had stolen. The necklace was short, tethered in its middle was a tooth no bigger than a child's. What the hell was it? Lucy didn't know, but she had an idea. Each shadow that slipped through the tent was more than just an absence of light, it was something living—or it had been. The last time Lucy dared to enter, she'd seen the priestess speaking to the macabre jewellery as if it were alive, and out of the corner of her eye, she'd seen the shadow of a child. To look at it was to lose sight of it; but Lucy knew it was precious. It didn't join the priestess in her nighttime misadventures; it stayed safe in her tent where no one dared to go. No one except a celestial mage with not much to lose.
As soon as she saw it, the priestess's face grew taut. "Release that now and you'll leave with your life."
Lucy stood tall. "No. Give me the name or I'll destroy it."
"You wouldn't dare."
Lucy let her expression go cold. "Why? If you don't help me, I have nothing. My most loyal spirit is gone, and the man I love will be lost forever."
"You'll have your child."
"It's sick," Lucy said. "I can feel it."
"Yes, it is," the priestess agreed.
Lucy pulled the necklace's tether tight, pushing it to the very brink of breaking. Wet cheeked, she demanded, "So give me the name."
The priestess held up her hands. "Calm. Be calm."
"The name!"
Lucy didn't think she'd crack so easy, but this spirit was apparently very, very important to the priestess. "The one you seek is Eileen Belserion. She sits on the dark mage's throne in Alverez."
Lucy felt her stomach drop. "Eileen?"
The priestess's hand came out. "The necklace now."
Eileen Belserion. Gods. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but that seemed impossible. Figure it out after. Lucy turned her body and backed toward the exit. "It has been a pleasure, priestess, truly."
"The necklace, Miss Heartfilia."
"Yes." Lucy's heart squeezed; she felt like she couldn't get enough air to breathe. Just a few more steps.
The woman snorted air from her nose; her scent was beginning to change, she was calling on the wolf.
Gods.
"The necklace. Or I will tear you apart."
"I'm afraid you'll try anyway," Lucy said.
"You play a dangerous game."
"I'm not playing," Lucy responded. Her back hit the canvas. "You've been helpful, but I hope we never see each other again," she said just as the woman had enough, skin peeling back and replaced by thick, grey fur; her hands turned to paws, her mouth gained a row of sharp canine teeth. Lucy held in her scream as the beast launched and threw the necklace. Where it landed, she didn't know, because she toppled ungracefully out of the tent in that second, getting snow down the back of her neck and up her coat.
The very first rays of light hit both her skin and the venturing priestess-turned-wolf. The animal still came for a second. Lucy pushed herself back through the snow, hands going numb, and thought, this is it. This is how I die. Then the animal screamed inhumanly in the light and scampered back into her shelter.
Lucy didn't move or breathe for a whole five seconds. Then she shot to her feet thinking, holy hell. It worked. The myths were true and Loke had been worried about nothing, just as Lucy said.
It was close, though.
Lucy Heartfilia was turning into quite the gambler.
A grunt from inside the tent and a wavering of the canvass got her to moving. She began to run from the threadbare and stained home of her one-time business partner, not willing to see if her luck would hold. The air beside her glowed and Loke stepped out of the spirit realm. He easily matched her pace.
"You got what you needed?"
"Yes," Lucy huffed. "And we have to get moving. It won't be long before she realizes that key was a fake."
"And then what?"
"Hopefully by then, Eileen will have offered her help."
"Eileen?"
"Belserion."
Loke's stream of curses aptly voiced what Lucy was feeling. "She won't want to help us."
"We have to try."
"And if she does help? It won't be free."
Lucy said the same thing she always did. "It doesn't matter."
It would. One day, it certainly would. "The priestess might have been lying. Eileen could not know about demon keys," Loke said. He'd voiced his concern before.
Maybe. But… "I don't think so, Loke."
"How can you be certain?"
She'd gotten good at faking confidence. "She's the Red Despair. She's been alive for hundreds of years. She's done things no mortal would ever dream of. If anyone knows how to get through the gates of Hell and open a demon gate, it'll be her."
Loke knew better than to argue.
A/N: Hi.
It's been a long time. Chapter are missing. I know. I ran into problems early on. I think I'll edit this, though, and return. I've written out a story plan, which I never do, so… here's hoping. Thanks for your patience.
-Freyja