a/n: i started this long before the manga ended and wanted to post it. it's an idea that's practically been an itch under my skin for a while
this fic is not is not associated with any religion, author is not a hypocrite and this is just a work of fiction :)
i
"The sun inside of him
rages like wildfire
and he is
gold
gold
gold."
— Emily Palermo, Apollo
Fog clung to the golden fields and dipped over the cliff's edge as the sun arose among it. Cattle shook the dust from their coats as the women and children emerged from their cabins, leaving the father's that worked long and hard into the night to rest more in their slumber. Each and every one of them gathered to the center of the small town as they did every new morning, smiles adorning their faces as they carried gentle conversations amongst themselves.
Two young woman watched from their perched place on a roof, one particularly unattached as she bent the page of her reading, and the other eagerly joining the women and children in paying respects to the effigy that stood tall in the midst of the village among them. They bowed their heads and placed their hands in praying positions, and a moment of silence followed.
Lucy, being the odd one out of the bunch, tilted her head slightly and watched her partner beside her, admiring the soft smile and peaceful expression that she adored. Her nails lightly picked at the brace of the book that laid open in her lap, patiently waiting for the moment to pass and the day to start. The sun raised higher over the fields in front of her, and she winced, watching the people below her feet slowly start to separate and head into town.
She eyed them with questionable envy.
"You're making that face again," Lucy turned to her companion who was watching her with a knowing grin. "My Lucy, your thoughts are so easily shown on your face. You're too nice."
"Sorry," she smiled, closing her book and standing, helping her friend to her feet. "I just wish I understood."
"I have offered to tell you the story, but you always brush it off as 'maybe next time, Levy', but next time doesn't ever come."
Smile turning sheepish, the blonde apologized again as she tucked her book into the pocket against her abdomen, accepting the hand Levy offered to her as they started moving their way down the latter. Her feet landed heavily in the gravel, and with her hand still attached to Levy, both girls followed the moving crowd and set their directions for the bar.
A light breeze carried the scent of fresh wheat and made her stomach rumble loudly with hunger.
"Tell me over breakfast?" Lucy suggested, eyes following rays of light as they moved up the sculpture and illuminated its features. Her gut filled with a familiar and unfavored feeling as she gazed up toward him, minding her feet and avoiding the children that played at his pedestal. There were times when she watched the town give their respects to their hero that she would feel guilt.
Everyone who was born and raised here was brought up with it, while on the other hand she'd come here on her own only two years before, not quite finding the story to stick with her. She followed their customs and found it easy to fit in, but the hero of stone they worshipped was something she found hard to believe no matter how deeply she tried.
"Really?!" Levy popped up, whirling around and clasping their hands together, catching Lucy off guard and pulling her out of her thoughts. "Will you actually listen?"
The girl's excitement brought a smile to her face, one she could not control. The blonde nodded and she meant it, allowing herself to be dragged through the course of town.
Levy was practically running with the wind, her heels popping in the air as she navigated them both through the moving crowds with vibrant tufts of hair crisscrossing around her. The soles of their boots tap-tapped against the brick walk, kicking up the dirt and rocks in their path. Many shouted greeting to them both as they shot passed, and both girls returned out greetings to as many as they could, too busy following the scent of breakfast that awaited them.
"You girls are as lively as ever!" One man shouted.
"Ah, to be young."
"Save some energy for us old folk!"
Lucy knew very little of the hero they all beared admiration for and chatted about through late of the night as they tucked the young ones to sleep. And it was true that whenever Levy offered to educate her on the topic she would slip in a petty excuse and wave it off. In truth she was curious, very, and she knew no one in the village thought less of her for her lack of belief, and that made her eternally grateful. They were all far more kind than she could have ever asked them to be towards her. Lucy felt the least she could do was properly listen and let herself properly decide.
Lucy made sure to keep her full focus on Levy, even when the noise in the breakfast bar reached the roof. Both of them found themselves a table in the back corner of the building after serving themselves a hot plate of food. They sat quietly for a minute or two; eating and watching their neighbors clash their beer mugs and slam their heels into the wood boards as they danced.
Lucy itched to join them; it'd been awhile since she joined the floor.
"By the way, Lucy," Levy started, picking at the bread that still steamed freshly. "You don't have to force yourself. None of us think of you differently just because the legend doesn't suit your tastes. I mean, I didn't always believe the legend was true."
"I know," Lucy chewed slowly, bitterly. The bread burned her tongue, but the loving flavor brought pleasure to her taste buds. "And I'm not."
It was true Levy was a new follower and didn't always believe the story of The Golden Soldier that had circulated the village and the Kingdom for hundreds of years. Levy at one point thought of it as a children's bedtime story, which was what Lucy's mindset was currently set on. But a tragic event had given Levy a change of heart.
Levy almost died last winter, almost a years past.
It was a typical cold at first, a cough here and there, and the doctor was away on travel and everyone had thought that the illness would pass in just a few days time. When the weeks dragged on, Levy had only grown weaker. She ate less, drank less, and ended up to the point where she couldn't move. She was confined to their cabin and bedridden.
It became too much for them to bear and everyone was sadly starting to accept that Levy might've been taking her last breaths. The color was drained from her creamy skin, her vibrant hair had lost its bright color, and her eyes were becoming duller by the hour.
But it was unknown to them that their friend Jet had set off to retrieve the doctor, using every ounce of strength his legs could give to tear through the cold night. He was the fasted runner in the village.
Lucy remembered sitting at Levy's bedside with both hands gripping her smaller one, her palms clammy and hot tears dripping down her cheeks. She was murmuring sweet words when Jet had burst through their cabin door, drenched to the bone and coated with earth and snow, and heaving to catch his breath. The doctor was hot on his trail and Lucy could still feel the echo of burning relief she felt when she saw the woman. Levy made a full recovery just over a week after.
It was a surprise to everyone when Levy started joining the morning respects with her head bowed and hands pressed together in a prayer. She even spent many nights reading books at the pedestal of the statue. She would place a pillow against the foot and lean into it, and it was almost like she felt safe at soldiers toes.
When Lucy finally questioned her about the sudden change, Levy had grabbed her by the hands and gave her the most shimmering expression she had ever seen the girl wear.
She spoke of The Grim Reaper, which was probably the only personified force that Lucy actually believed in. Neither a ghost or a God, but only the few that cheated death spoke of seeing him appear at their deathbed and felt themselves being drawn to his invisible presence. It was a relief from the pain and the numbness, and Lucy had her own thoughts of it, but when Levy spoke of it, she couldn't help but believe it.
"I saw him, Lucy!" Said Levy, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening. "That day Jet barged in, when you were telling me how much you loved me, I was going numb. He was there and Lucy," Levy paused for a breath, scanning her eyes over Lucy's struck expression. "He's nothing like anyone describes."
Levy purchased many books and produced numerous sketches of a dark man with hair like a starless night and eyes a bright crimson.
For a moment of time Lucy had thought Levy developed an obsession. She calmed down after a few weeks, but never once changed her story or word.
"Dance with me?"
Lucy jumped against her seat, suddenly finding Levy standing in front of her with her hands gripping her waist. She sent a glance to the loud crowd in the midst of the room, couples swinging the other with the heels of their boots slammed into the floors. Drinks of all kinds were being thrown into the air and splashing wet stains at their feet.
But without another moment of hesitation, Lucy reached her hand out to Levy, hopping to her feet and joining the fun.
They twirled into the crowd and earned a round of cheers, their hips popping, hair bouncing, and laughed into the morning.
They retired to their shared cabin after some long, heart pounding dancing and breakfast to change for the day. While they both quickly rinsed off and slipped into fresh garments, Levy used to the time to speak fondly of the story the village so dearly loved, and of the man they so dearly looked up to.
Lucy took a seat.
"His name was Natsu Dragneel," Levy started and spoke from her memory. Having read the book countless times, she could recite it word-for-word if she absolutely tried. Lucy thought she'd like to see her do it one of these days.
"He was an orphan that lived in the forest for most of his childish years after his family was murdered in a fire attack from a rivaling kingdom. It was that particular attack that started the bloodiest war the Kingdom of Fiore had ever been involved in, and the battle dragged on for many years before there seemed to be any form of end in sight. We were losing countless men and women every day, and we were also losing the battle. Queen Mavis lead our army head on into war at the front lines with the promise she would fight their way to victory even if it meant she'd die trying. The rival kingdom sought to overthrow us and destroy all of Fiore and wipe its contents from the map."
"Natsu lived between the streets and the forest that adopted him, scrambling for food and fighting with the commoners, and was practically treated as an outsider until he drew the attention of the royal family. He soon became the talk of the kingdom. People spoke of a young man with a head of roses and heart of flames that fought anyone that opposed of him. He beat muggers, robbers, and earned himself a household name by fighting for what he thought was right. Children and families came to admire him, and it didn't take long for the rumors to reach the castle."
"Queen Mavis sought him out herself. She handed him a sword and asked to make him a warrior, and at first he refused. He left the kingdom and followed her into the front lines of battle at her right hand. He got the title "The Golden Soldier" from the gold brace he wore that became part of his signature appearance. There were times he didn't even draw his sword and fought with only his bare hands, grabbing the enemy by their scalps and dragging them to their defeat."
"It was because of him that they were able to push the enemy back and gain their bearings in the war, and they even got the upper hand. Victory was in hands reach and everyone was starting to look forward to heading back home to their loved ones."
"And just like the rest of us, Natsu admired the Queen with everything he had. She had the fighting spirit of a thousand rams and a heart so kind, it could have rivaled the winds. She became a family figure to him and he so easily laid down his life for her."
"How'd he die?" Lucy asked after a long pause, squeezing her pillow from her curled place at the foot of her bed. She had been watching Levy with worried eyes. Her toes curled into her quilt as she waited for Levy to continue the story, her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip from the anticipation.
Levy crossed the room and reached for an aged book from the top of the bookshelf and joined Lucy on the bed, flipping straight towards the end of the reading. Lucy eyed the page with an expression of awe, taking in the bold and bleeding colors that reached the end of the page. It showed an art piece of a small woman with her back against a man, her fist and sword held high above her in the air. Her expression appeared to be tear stained but full of fighting fury, and her long and fair hair whipped around them. The man laid with his back against her legs, his golden armor cracked in half and two arrows struck where his heart was. The color of blood stained most of him and even bled into the next page. Blotches of paint colored his hair a rosy shade and mixed and matched with the scarlet color he was covered in.
"Two arrows to the heart."
Lucy frowned and pulled the pillow she was holding tighter against her breast.
Levy went on a bit about the story, flipping through the pages and pointing out a few other illustrations while Lucy tried to listen and to keep following along. She was suddenly filled with a feeling of dissatisfaction. She guessed that was her answer.
Levy noticed her sudden change of mood and smiled fondly, gently closing the book and holding it over to the blonde. Lucy raised a brow towards the hardback with uncertainty.
"Why don't you read it yourself? Believe it or not, it is a good story."
Taking a moment to ponder it over, Lucy took the book and placed it in her dress pocket.
As the day carried on the temperature continued to grow hotter, and both Lucy and Levy were fortunate enough to be working inside to help prepare meals for the villagers and the cattle. And although the shade the indoors provided kept them cool, the amount of lifting and moving around was enough to have them both sweating through their clothing and taking more sitting breaks than they prefered. But with the majority amount of their neighbors working in the fields and and receiving the brunt of the summer heat, they gratefully carried on with their work with what little they could do.
Levy peeled and chopped the vegetables while Lucy cleaned the bar tables and stacked the stools. Both had the ends of their dresses tied above their knees in large knots and their sleeves rolled up as far as they could go. Their boots laid discarded on the floor at the end of the bar counter with one of their shoelaces used to keep their hair off their necks.
Levy paused her task and wiped beads of sweat from her face and neck, letting out a light groan as she did so. A large pot boiled and steamed over a crater of fire beside her, not helping the heat that scorched the room.
Lucy mimicked her actions with a sigh of her own. The damp rag she was gripping was draped over her shoulder as the last and final stoll was scrubbed and stacked. The blonde sluggishly dragged her feet towards the counter and dropped her tired weight in the stool directly across Levy's workspace, and dropped her head against the wood surface. She remained unmoved for a minute, not even budging when Levy poked her crown with a soup utensil.
"Don't go to sleep just yet, Lu. The bar is clean but dinner is not ready."
"It's not even dinner time," she mumbled half heartedly, rolling her head to where her chin was propped up. Lucy slowly stood and worked her way around the counter until the smaller woman was close enough to hand her an apron.
"It's not dinner time because dinner's not ready," Levy pointed out with a smile, "we have a lot of food to prepare for a lot of stomachs. Especially this time of the year when the heat is at its highest. They are all out there busting their butts. Some of them come in already half cooked."
Lucy smiled, knotting the string behind her neck and picking up a knife. "Count my blessings? Is that what you are getting at? Also, where are the onions? I was sure I saw Mira carrying a basket full just yesterday."
"Look in the storage, though I already checked." Levy gestured to a pair of doors just behind them.
"Did you check the top shelves?" Lucy taunted, giving her friend a teasing smile before she was shielding herself from a few potato skins. She jerked the doors open and quickly scanned the shelves at eye level before straining to see above them. Mirajane had the height and surprisingly the strength, and it came to no shock to Lucy when she saw the basket filled to the rim with red onions pushed the back of the very top shelf. "Ah! There they are."
Levy grimaced at the height. "Too high. I'll go get Gray or Elfman to grab it for us."
Lucy shook her head as she balled her sleeves higher and tightened the knot at the hem of her dress. "No need, I'll get them," she positioned herself directly in front of the shelves, reaching up and gripping the highest one she could reach and pulling herself up. Levy stood a short way behind her with a look of worry and her teeth biting at her bottom lip.
"Please be careful, Lu."
Lucy used her arm to keep her weight in place and used her other to reach for the basket. Her fingertips grazed the hamper and barely nipped it, before she was huffing and moving her feet up a shelf for a better reach. Levy made a few noises of protest behind her, but didn't vocal an actual comment to halt her. Lucy strained her arm until she was able to finally grab the handle and yank it towards her, the motion pulling her grip back and making her slip.
Her lungs filled with a panicked gulp of air the moment her body jerked backward, and her fingernails dug into the old ledge in an instinct effort to keep her steady.
Levy's panicked shrill was all she heard just as the back of her head made contact with the floorboards, and a nerve wrenching, dull sound filled the bar. Vegetables and fruits littered and rolled around her.
A high pitched noise rung painfully between her ears.
"Lucy! Lu—" Levy's voice faded with her vision.
Lucy's eyes closed as the pressure enveloping her head engulfed her in darkness.
Peaceful bliss followed, and unconsciousness registered deep in the back of her mind.
She saw a blur of gold and red, and heard a man's voice telling her to get up.
Get up.
Get up.
There was a pitched ring between her ears and everything felt hazy around her. She did not know how much time had passed. It could have been only seconds, and it could have been hours.
"Lucy!"
Her body bolted upright, lungs sucking in a breath as her eyes snapped open.
"Ah! Levy, she's awake!" Lucy turned to find Mirajane beside her, supporting her shoulders with her arm. "Lucy, are you okay?" The woman asked and she heard, but did not register it enough to give an answer. The woman's image was blurring in and out.
Levy ran over and dropped into a kneeled position beside the both of them, her smaller hands immediately coming to grip blonde's limp and shaking ones. Lucy then noticed that she was surrounded by many people and all of them were talking, all of then were asking her questions.
She couldn't hear them.
Lips moved silently around the circle.
Her ears were ringing and a cold feeling was running through her body. Blood was rushing from her head.
The room was progressively becoming brighter and grossly vibrant. Black dots clouded her vision and she didn't notice she was gripping Levy's hands like a lifeline until she started to fall back to the floor. Mirajane grabbed her to keep her upright and Lucy heard a strain of her sweet and panicked voice, the woman's expression becoming curled with a look of fear. Levy looked no better.
Her eyes rolled shut.
Brown eyes slowly cracked open to see the ceiling of the cabin looming high above her, and the sound of the rain beating against it from the outside. The warm scent of bread filled her senses and carried around her, and Lucy turned her head slightly to find a tray of food waiting at her beside. Her stomach grumbled on cue and she wasted not a second more to sit up, using her arms that shook weakly under her weight to press into the flesh of her mattress.
Lucy crossed her legs and brought the warm tray into her lap. She tore the slices of bread into bits and dipped them in the soup, humming in satisfaction at the succulent taste that filled her mouth and tingled her taste buds. The bread the village baked all year round was her favorite, and it had been since the moment she came. Lucy remembered the first time she tried it and had thought, If Heaven had a taste, this for sure would be it. Their wheat and bread they traded to neighboring villages for other goods, such as fruits and meat.
Feeling another roll of hunger from her greedy stomach, Lucy put the bread down and picked up her spoon to dip in. She knew Levy wasn't the best cook in town, but feeling like she hadn't ate a bite in ages, her friends cooking was a godsend to her stomach. And the warmth offered a soothing sensation to the pain that was radiating from the back of her head.
Ah, how careless of me, Lucy thought, wincing.
Recalling what had happen came back to her immediately. She felt embarrassed towards her thoughtless actions and for putting her friends in that situation. Levy's face was bold and clear in her memories, and Lucy felt her gut over turn with guilt.
She pushed the food aside and moved her legs over the side of the bed, her appetite leaving her. Standing, Lucy walked to the faucet and splashed a handful of cold water to her face. Her hair felt a mess but she thought if she attempted to pull it back, it would make the already angry welt at the back of her head more intense.
Lucy sighed, dried her face off with a cloth, and moved back to her bed to slip her boots back on. She leaned down to lace them and the book that was still tucked in the pocket against her abdomen slipped out and cluttered to the wood. The Golden Soldier glistened in old red ink in the candle light, and Lucy stared at it for a moment. She had momentarily forgotten Levy had lent it to her.
Picking it up, she ran the pads of her fingers down the brace, noting the dusty and grainy texture. The pages were discolored, but despite the obvious old age, it book itself looked in cared condition.
Lucy peeled the book open and ran her fingers down the first page, finding a sense of pleasure from the feeling.
"There shall not be a day that your name,
your kind heart,
your smile,
or your strength,
will go forgotten from these lands you fought for.
I'll pass your story on, and I will await the day when I can finally fight alongside you once again, my right hand."
— Mavis Vermilion .
"Mavis?" Lucy whispered aloud despite being alone, reading the name over and over to be certain she wasn't deceiving herself. Brown eyes grew a fraction of their size, and her jaw fell slack. "Queen Mavis wrote the story?"
"Lucy?" The blonde jumped a few inches, the book slammed shut, and was automatically on her feet. Mirajane gently closed the cabin door behind her as she entered, and held a wicker basket covered with a towel tucked under her arm. The older woman looked startled at Lucy's actions, but seemed to brush it off as she approached the bedside. "How are you feeling?"
The look of genuine concern that creased Mirajane's soft features tied a knot at the end of Lucy's throat.
"I'm okay. I'm really sorry." Lucy bowed her head.
"Please don't be, accidents happen. Everyone is very worried— Levy especially," the woman sighed and placed the basket on the bed behind them and brushed an arm around Lucy's back. "We couldn't calm her down. Gray had to drag her out to help in the fields to get her mind at ease."
Lucy frowned. "How much time was I out?"
"It's been several hours," Mirajane mused with a thoughtful finger to her cheek. "With the rain clouds the temperature has dropped, and everyone gathered at the bar. I came to leave some bread and fruits in your cabin. I thought you'd still be asleep. The doctor will be here tomorrow."
Lucy nodded with understanding. She leaned down to resume slipping on her boots and quickly laced them in sloppy knots. "I want to apologise to Levy," she wanted to see everyone.
Mirajane joined her at the door as Lucy shrugged on her rain cloak. "Everyone will be happy to see you. Levy and Gray were saying something about you helping them in the fields tomorrow?" Mirajane smiled and Lucy cringed. "Lisanna twisted her ankle earlier today. It's a light sprain, thankfully, but she will be out for a few days."
"I'm glad it was only that."
"Mm. It seems today just wasn't in either your favors."
Lucy scoffed lightly, cupping her palm to the back of her head. "It really wasn't," though she thought she outta of been grateful. With the fall she took, Lucy was lucky that she would just be sporting a lump on the back of her head for a while paired with a headache. She was lucky she even woke up!
She even thought, for just a moment, that she deserved it. The thought left as fast as it came.
Cold mist blew in as they both stepped out the door, and braced themselves against the other as they ran. Deep and broad puddles splashed at their feet and the rain and wind continued to grow stronger. Summer rains were normal, but Lucy worried that this particular one would actually bring damage upon the town. Trees swung in their rooted place, leaves and dirt were being whipped into the air, and the cabins were creaking violently. In the time she had lived here, she had never seen a storm quite like this.
"Watch out, Lucy!" Mirajane yelled over the noise, grabbing the fold of Lucy's arm and yanking her to the side. Her feet slid against the soaked pavements and her weight crashed against Mira's with such force that nearly brought them both to the ground, but Mira's hold was firm. "You almost ran into him!"
Once gaining her balance, Lucy nodded her thanks and looked up towards the sculpture. The rain beat against it and streams of water poured down to the pedestal, gathering at his feet until it spilled down the rock. Even in such dull weather it managed to stand out vibrantly. She had to admit it to herself that seeing the rich color of stone contrasting against the dingy sky gave her a sense of calmness despite the atmosphere around her.
Upon making it to the bar's front doors, both women shook the rain and debris off them before walking in. Lucy had not realized just how cold her limbs were until the warm air of the bar hit her, and she felt her muscles relaxing at the feeling.
All eyes were on her the moment the door slammed shut behind them, and Lucy didn't so much as get to utter a word before everyone was jumping up and surrounding her. Questions after questions, yelling, all of them out concern. Her head throbbed painfully.
"Please give her space," Mirajane ordered, noticing the grimace that flashed across Lucy's features. "Though Lucy is awake the wound on her head is not healed. Porlyusica will return tomorrow, so until then, please take it easy." The women turned to her, "that goes for you, too."
"Thank you, Mira, but I'm fine! It was just a clumsy spill," Lucy assured, though the facade did not seem to convince her friends.
But as per the older woman's request and consideration for her health, the crowd dimed down and most of everyone returned to their seats to slowly resume their conversations. A few loitered around and many sent constant glances in her direction, but Lucy was too busy looking for a head of blue to notice.
She spent a few minutes searching, and the knot in her gut only grew wider, tighter. Lucy was just about to ask around when she felt a pair of arms gently wrap themselves around her abdomen from behind. Her body tensed for a moment, but then Levy's head pressed against her back with a soft sniffle. Her shoulders and limbs relaxed at the warmth of Levy's cheek.
"Stupid Lu," Levy quivered, and Lucy was smiling. She wrapped her arms around Levy's and held her hands, and both girls stood there in silence. "Stupid, stupid, stupid Lu."
"I know."
"You're not leaving my sight tomorrow."
"Okay, Levy."
"I will keep my eye on you the whole time."
The blonde cocked an amused brow. "Don't you have to work too?"
"My dear Lucy, it's part of a woman's natural skill to multitask," Levy scoffed as a-matter-of fact. "You are not leaving my sight and those wheat fields won't know what hit them."
Lucy giggled and slipped her dress down to her hips and took a warm damp rag over her shoulders and neck. She closed her eyes and allowed the warmth to relax her tense muscles, a content sigh leaving her lips. Her body ached, especially the back of her shoulders that also took a great deal of the fall, and felt the tender and sore skin with every gentle stroke she took. She felt Levy's eyes on her.
"Is it bad?" The blonde inquired, pressing the tips of her fingers into her shoulder blades. She could easily imagine the bruises that were more than likely blooming. "It hurts."
Levy walked over and kneeled behind her, taking the rag from Lucy's grasp and lightly brushing it down her spine. "Sit down, I'll help you wash."
"No, Levy, I've troubled you enough—"
"There is no such thing," Levy firmly insisted, and Lucy bit her tongue. She felt the hands gripping the rag shaking just slightly, and Lucy's chest squeezed. "Please. Let me help?" Lucy nodded without another hesitation. Levy wrung the rag in the soap bin at their feet and moved the cloth in gentle circles along Lucy's back, minding the bruises that were blossoming colorfully. Lucy hissed in pain and Levy stopped. "Maybe you should stay in tomorrow and get some rest."
Lucy shook her head, disagreeing. "I'll be fine, just a bit sore. Besides, I want to help!" As a matter of fact, it had been a while since she was out in the fields. She missed the scent of the wheat in the warm wind when surrounded by it. Though the work required a lot of energy and labor, the hard work was satisfying by the end of day.
The girl sighed behind her. "Okay," Levy mumbled, not wanting to press the matter, "but the moment you feel something is wrong, tell me."
Lucy smiled and nodded, a promise to Levy's request. She stood and shimmied her dress off her ankles and tossed it the side, and sat to where she was facing Levy. She put rag aside and rinsed the soap from her body with a squeal. The water was not as warm as it was when she first prepared it, and her stomach sucked in reflexively. Levy laughed.
She worked her fingers through her scalp, pulling knots loose and combing her nails through her hair, minding the tender lump on the back of her head. There was a strong wince of pain, but she suppressed it the best she could. The sharp pain reached the tips of her ears, and it felt like hundreds of needles impaling her skin.
"Do you need help washing your hair?" Levy offered, already grabbing a bucket and soap. Lucy cracked her eyes open with a grimace still present on her features.
"I think I'll go without tonight."
Both girls towel dried themselves when they were done and slipped into their nightgowns. Lucy took her time drying her hair, carefully cupping it between the cloth and dabbing the sides of her head. The back of her ears and scalp were throbbing sensitively and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and forget about it.
Just as she was kicking her blanket back and fluffing her pillow, Levy appeared beside her with her own pillow hugged into her abdomen and looking at her with a silent question. Lucy smiled.
Levy was, for sure, Lucy closest and most treasured friend. When Levy had fallen deathly ill, Lucy had never left her bedside until she was recovered. In times of vulnerability between the both of them, they liked to hold on and stick close.
"Can I?" Levy asked, but Lucy was already scooting over and opening her arms. The smaller woman practically dived in, tucking herself in the space between Lucy's neck and shoulder, and wrapped her arms snuggly around her frame. Lucy's arms snaked themselves around Levy's shoulders and pulled her close, moving the blanket to where it covered the both of them.
The women relaxed in the warmth and slipped off to sleep shortly after with nothing but the storm outside luring them to a comfortable slumber.
Lucy awoke pushed against the wall of her bed and the back of Levy's heel jabbed into her side. The girl was sprawled across the bed, drool down the side of her chin, and small limbs hanging over the edge of the mattress and pressed into Lucy's face. She snored softly and although Levy was usually a silent sleeper, the bags under her eyes were prominent. Lucy knew the both of them had gotten plenty of rest, but the stress she had caused Levy yesterday took a toll. The girl most likely slept long but didn't rest well.
She took care to gently move the limbs off her and slip off the end of the bed, and moved the blanket over to cover Levy's feet. The early morning air had a bite to it, and Lucy felt goosebumps erupting up her arms.
First thing Lucy noticed when she stood up straight and stretched was that her head and shoulders felt considerably better than they had the previous day. Though still sore, it gave her a good feeling and she thought that, maybe, the day wouldn't be completely torturous.
Levy awoke shortly after and dressed, and they both promptly brought themselves to the bar for breakfast before meeting Gray by the barns.
The dark-haired male yawned and dragged his feet as he tended the cattle. "So you live to see another day?" He joked lightly, raising a brow in the blonde's direction with a teasing grin. Lucy raised one back, giving him a smirk and kicking some gravel at his ankles, and followed Levy towards the sheds.
She contemplated tying her hair back, tried, and immediately regretted the decision. A slight touch to the back of her head felt like she was ripping her scalp, and Lucy concluded it'd be best to leave it down.
"Now," Levy yanked open the shed doors and fished out two pairs of gloves. "I know you've done it before but just in case, it's important to wear gloves and keep your hands covered while harvesting. We will be out in the heat most of the day but Gray kept insisting yesterday that it will rain, so let's try to get as much harvested today as possible!"
Lucy grabbed her own pair of gloves. Levy was experienced, but in the few years she'd been here, Lucy had hardly worked in the fields. Possibly once, but it'd been too long. Refreshing her memory felt great.
"We brought in a lot of harvest yesterday, so there isn't much left. We just might be able to finish and bring the sacks to Mira before the storm hits." Gray walked up behind them and placed a shovel in the storage. He stepped himself out of the rubber overalls he had over his clothing and bundled them up, and tossed them in the small space. Levy scolded him as the impact caused a load of farm equipment to clatter over and smacked him to clean up the mess. The male waved it off, saying he'd fix it when they've finished. The three of them pulled on a pair of gloves, and Levy insisted they wore hats.
"No. They smell bad, I told you that yesterday. Especially out in the heat." Gray argued and pushed the offered accessory away.
Levy frowned but shrugged, and offered the covering to Lucy.
Lucy carefully pulled it over her head, minding her wound. "Ah, it does stink," she noted. It smelled of old hay and body order that had been left to cook the sun for consecutive days. It was a bitter scent and she almost took it right off.
Gray eagerly nodded in agreement. "A regretful smell. Something only the desperate put on their heads."
Levy scowled, pulling her own hat over her head with force. "Well, I am desperate! I burn easily!"
Lucy followed the two towards the gates that separated the field from the cattle, shaking her head at the light bickerment they sucked themselves into. Multiple empty sacks were laid over the wood, and Gray pulled three off and distributed them between the trio, not forgetting to give Levy a teasing look of mockery to her arguments. Lucy admired their sibling-like relationship and how comfortable they were in their own skin around one another.
It was like that with all the villagers. Everyone knew everyone, what they liked, where to find them, how to make them laugh—it was a warm atmosphere that she had craved since she left her own home behind the walls, and it was certainly cry worthy when she finally found it.
Lucy trusted them with her everything, and an old feeling of guilt and fear aroused in her gut when she realized they probably didn't know that much of her like she knew about them. They never asked or hovered, and were genuine about her space. All Lucy had ever told Levy and anyone who asked was "I'm a traveler" if they'd ask where she was from.
What would they think if she actually told them the whole truth? She was afraid, but thought keeping the secret was necessary.
Lucy was pulled out of her thoughts when Levy shoved Gray into a patch of field and started running, squealing loud and shrill when the male pulled himself out of the wheat and charged after her. He grabbed Levy from behind and twirled her around, and Levy yelled her name out with plea.
"Lucy, help! Gray, don't you dare drop me," Levy kicked her legs and tried to turn in his grip. "I said I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Put me down!"
Gray snickered and lowered her to her feet, and Levy immediately ran and linked her arms around Lucy's, pouting. Gray lead them through the carved path between the fields and Lucy followed closely behind, patting Levy's head as the girl leaned her weight against her. She inhaled deeply through her nose to savor the smell of the grass that mixed with the lingering smell of the night fog that still clung at the steams. The sun was peeking over the cliff, slowly rising and lighting the sky in front of them.
"Rip the grass out by the bottom to be sure you get the roots." Gray turned and dropped his sack, leaning down to demonstrate as he spoke. The soil crumbled as he pulled a handful of steams from the ground, and the roots snapped at his knuckles. Lucy watched closely as he neatly placed them in the sack.
"Why are we pulling them all out by the roots?" Lucy asked.
"Wheat becomes no good after a year, and we planted these in early spring to harvest in this summer. We're going to need the soil to heal before we plant for the winter."
And in the eight long weeks until they would plant a new field, the whole village would be preparing for the dropping temperatures. People would undust their fireplaces and start chopping wood and other flammable goods. Mothers and fathers and those alike would unpack the winter clothing from their storage and start knitting blankets for the freezing nights.
It was a time of year Lucy personally enjoyed. The foods became more spicy and the bread served steaming fresh. And unlike Lucy, Levy particularly disliked the upcoming colder seasons. The girl beside her looked off to the side with her lips puckered with disappointment. Though the colder the outside got, the more excuse her and Levy had to huddle close. Lucy knew the few things Levy enjoyed in the rather tortuous time of year, such as fires and Lisanna's hot beverages, so the blue-haired girl never complained. Hardly one word.
"Ah, is Lisanna alright?" Lucy asked, suddenly remembering.
Gray nodded as he brushed some stray soil from his hands. "She's fine, just a quick spill," he gestured for the edge of the cliff behind them. "It's unsteady and we think it's from the heat. It crumbled yesterday and she slipped, but luckily Elfman was close."
"Thank goodness she's okay."
"Between you and Lisanna," Levy heaved a suffering sigh. "I hated yesterday. It was scary, no more to it. You shed a few years off my life."
Lucy gave her friend's shoulder a pat before getting to work, grabbing her own sack and moving towards another patch away from the others. She followed Gray's instructions and pulled the stems from the ground, snapping the roots at her knuckles. She was surprised just how messy it had gotten so quickly. The grass bent over and tangled in the ends of her hair, and she mentally thanked Levy for giving her the hat. Lucy stuffed the wheat in the sack and fingered the seeds and bits off her dress and hair.
Then she heard some snickering and raised a glare toward the other two.
"Has anyone mentioned that you match the fields?" Gray asked, gesturing at her hair. "It's a perfect match."
Lucy playfully kicked the air at him and rolled her eyes.
The hours rolled by quickly. The sun was right above them by the time they decided to take a proper break. Lucy expected the amount of physical work it would take to harvest. She felt exhausted and noted, with a huff of relief, that they were close to finishing. Nearly the whole field was empty. Dark clouds were swarming closer to them by the minute, and she worried they would get caught in it. The winds were picking up to almost aggressive levels, but Gray assured they would make it as if he sensed her internal panic.
"My knees hurt," Levy grumbled, pulling up her dress and down her socking to rub the sore joint. "I'm taking a hot bath when we're done. Join me, Lucy?" Lucy nodded at her as the three of them hopped off their perched places on the face.
"Do the two of you always bathe together?" Gray inquired with a pinched look on his face. Lucy swore he was blushing. "You two are like conjoined twins."
"Do you want to join us, Gray?" Levy questioned as a joke, but Gray lit up like a fire and threw a handful of root ends he was gripping in a fist. Levy easily dodged the throw with a laugh bubbling from her throat.
Thunder and lightning cracked above them, surprising the lot, and was soon followed by the downpour of rain.
Both girls turned to Gray with flat expressions.
The man licked the forming pebbles of water from his lips. "I guess I was wrong," he drawled sheepishly, clearing his throat. Two eye rolls were sent his way and the trio dragged their feet against the forming mud to quickly finish their work. There wasn't much left, so putting it off till the following day seemed pointless.
The wind blew angry against their backs and circulated around them, whipping the grass and debris into the air and threatened to get into their eyes. Levy's hat was blown off her head and carried into the gale, barely out of her arms reach.
Lucy ran after it, oblivious to the edge that quickly approached her. Both Levy and Gray yelled out and the moment she was able to grasp the hat was the moment she slipped. Chunks of moistened earth caved under her soles. The wind seemed to only urge her way over the edge, pushing against her and guiding her until gravity took her by the ankles.
She was thrown and rolled against the hard slope with violent momentum, limbs thrashing, head smashing, until she was brought to a sudden halt. The back of her head made contact with a tree trunk with a dull crack, and Lucy's body fell forward into the dirt. Blood trickled down her skin and mixed with the rain and mud that covered her.
She laid completely still.
And Levy's blood curdling screams were audible even over the roar of the storm.
"NO! LUCY!"
.
.
.
To be continued.