AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!
EDITED: 4/21/18
Berserk
Chapter Twenty One
{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}
Natsu wakes up to screaming. He jolts into a sitting position, blinking rapidly to clear his cloudy mind, squinting at the harsh sunlight. Only, that isn't right. It should be nighttime right now, not the middle of the day. He rubs at his eyes, yawning and glances through the iron bars surrounding his cage, peering at whatever's outside. He's surprised to see the arena full, seats lined with spectators, all of them cheers and screaming foul words. The lights are on in the stadium, great lacrima, light caused by harnessing the magic of Fae, the crystals costing nothing short of a fortune.
In the center of the arena, two Berserks tear at each other, snapping and snarling, colliding and kicking up sand as they bash each other around. And there's blood, so much blood, and the sand is stained a deep red, dirtying the stark, white sand. There's a great roar as the pair clash, from the Berserks or from the crowd, Natsu can't be sure. The cry grows as one Berserk savages the other, teeth digging into his opponents shoulder and shaking him brutally, tearing at flesh and bone, ripping him apart. Blood spurts across the sand, pouring from the wound, a river more than a trickle.
They separate and Natsu feels sick as he sees the gore, blood dripping from fangs and coating lips in a gruesome smile. They bare their teeth, circling around each other, and Natsu winces as he sees the smaller opponent. His entire left side is a bloody mess, his chest bare, claw marks ripping open his chest from left to right, big, gaping lines nearly hidden by the red mess. His mark has been wiped away, blue paint smeared and streaked with blood, too blurred for Natsu to tell what it was. His shoulder is ripped to the bone, Natsu just barely able to see it from where he sits in his cage.
The screaming returns, but it doesn't come from the rings. He snaps around, looking towards the door, concern nipping at him. He stands slowly, legs wobbling beneath him. Igneel is there, blocking the entrance with his body, snarling at a guard standing just outside. They have swords, clubs hefted over their shoulders, and Igneel is screaming "you can't take him! you can't take him!" but they aren't listening. The door unlocks with a click, metal creaking as the door is forced open.
Igneel roars, still screaming and trying to push them back, but there are three of them, and they hit Igneel. One. Twice. They haven't fed him in three days and he goes down, still screaming, still begging, but they don't listen, merely shoving around him. Snarling something Natsu can't hear, words drowned by the roar of blood in his ears.
They spot him, exchanging quiet words. Igneel doesn't get up, just lies there on the floor, and there's the blood on his head, his face. He wheezes when he breathes, still begging them not to take him.
They come for him anyway.
He blinks, and suddenly he's standing in the arena, older, but not by much. He blinks down at his hands, sees the blood on his palms and stuck beneath his fingernails, so deep he isn't sure it'll wash off. His hands are shaking, entire body quivering in absolute terror. His head hurts, lip cracked and bleeding, blood dripping from his nose and dribbling down his chin. When he breathes he wheezes, ribs rattling in his chest, cracked or maybe broken, he can't be sure.
Confused, he looks up, seeing a man twice his head towering over him, lean muscle coiled around his arms, his shoulders as broad as Natsu's entire torso. The man snarls, baring his teeth, before lunging. Natsu is knocked onto his back in dirt, sand whirling around them and getting into his eyes. It stings, tears burning at his eyes, and he whines, struggling to get back up. A hand strikes his face, shoving him down, and then a foot lashes out against his stomach. Natsu gags, throwing up the contents of his stomach. It's followed by another blow, and then another and another until he can barely breathe. He begs for it to stop.
It doesn't. It won't.
He must black out, because he opens his eyes and suddenly he's not in the ring anymore. He's back in his cage, pressed back into the farthest corner from the door. He's lying on his side, back pressed against cool metal that soothes the aches in his spine. He coughs softly, spitting out blood, and wrinkles his nose, frowning in confusion as he looks around, wondering how he's still alive. They never let the losers live, not on the night of the new moon. They call it the bloodbath. Five fights; five deaths. Those are the rules.
He squeezes his eyes shut, biting back a pained whimper when his head begins to pound, Natsu feeling like someone is holding his skull and squeezing. The ache starts in his temples, spreading until Natsu can hardly breathe it hurts so bad.
Igneel leans over him. He smiles, lips pulling back to reveal his teeth in a wide grin. There's bruises on his face, blood on his mouth and coating his jaw. Igneel reaches out slowly, knuckles tapping against Natsu's cheek in a gently punch, little more than a caress against Natsu's face. His lips move, Natsu unable to hear him.
He gives a sad smile, reaching out to ruffle Natsu's hair gently. Igneel's own hair falls into his eyes, thick and red, matted with blood at his temple. He blinks at Natsu, eyes dark and sad. Natsu tries to smile back, but it pulls at the cut on his lip, making him wince. He blinks in and out of consciousness for several minutes, Igneel hovering over him the entire time, always smiling for him.
"You're all right, Kid," he murmurs, stroking Natsu's hair away from his eyes, gaze worried as he checks Natsu for a fever. "You're all right."
He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them he's kneeling in the dirt, vomit high in his throat. Confusion sweeps through him, Natsu's eyes wide with terror. He's in a line, Berserks on either side of him, some crying, pleading, others silent and strong. There's a wet, strangled sound from down the line, a sharp cry. Natsu doesn't look, his eyes finding Igneel's in the dark. His teeth grind together, Igneel blinking at him slowly.
His breaths come in short, sharp gasps, Natsu finding it harder and harder to draw air into his lungs. Igneel mouths at him to "breathe, Natsu, just breathe" as he shuffles forward across the sand, trying to help him. He's kicked back, his head snapping around so hard that Natsu almost screams. Igneel just ignores it, turning to Natsu with a wide grin, all teeth and bleeding gums, blood dripping down his face and a bruise rapidly forming on his cheek. Again, he tells Natsu to breathe.
Igneel tells him it'll be okay, that everything will be okay, and Natsu believes him, sucking in greedy gulps of air as he stares across the sand at his father. Natsu's heart stutters in his chest, his hands trembling in the dirt beside him. He blinks away tears, trying to be strong like Igneel. He gains an encouraging smile in return, Igneel mouthing nonsense at him, just promising they'd be okay, that Natsu would be okay, he just has to breathe.
Another ripping sound, a scream cut off too early, choking, metal through flesh and bone. The scent of death rots the air, choking him. It overwhelms him, burning his nose and throat, and he can't hold back the bile any longer. It spills out onto the ground, sticking to his lips and chin, splattering against the sand, mixing with blood from the fights and his own tears.
Igneel looks terrified when he looks up, but his expression is blocked by a pair of boots stepping in front of him. His gaze rises higher, taking in billowing gold, and deep red, and Natsu knows it's the King before he sees the crown. There's a manic look in his eyes, cold and cruel and Natsu flinches. His stomach twists sickly, but he swallows it down, putting on a brave face to mask his terror. He meets the King's eyes. Unafraid. Horrified. It's what Igneel told him to do.
The King laughs. He crouches, meeting Natsu's unflinching gaze. He reaches out to touch him, but Natsu snarls, snapping at him. His head snaps back, the King striking him. Something cold presses to his throat, Natsu having no time to think as the blade rips across the thin skin of his. He falls sideways, a roaring in his ear, hands groping at the open wound on his neck in horror. A wet sound tears from his throat.
He finds Igneel's eyes. His father lunges for the King, bellowing in rage and knocking two men aside to come to Natsu's aid. A blade tears through his chest—
Natsu jolts awake, gasping for breath and clawing at his neck in sheer terror, he sputters, coughing and wheezing. Tears burn at his eyes, a ragged sob tearing from somewhere deep in his chest. Eyes squeezing shut, Natsu feels his heart crawl into his throat, his entire body trembling. Igneel's face appears behind his closed lids, dark eyes blank and unseeing, blood welling from the wound on his chest, heart ceasing to beat almost immediately, Natsu's name on his lips. He promised they'd be okay. Igneel promised him they'd both be okay. He fucking promised him and—
It was Natsu's fault. Igneel was only trying to help, he didn't know that Natsu wasn't going to die—that the wound would leave a gruesome scar, but it wouldn't kill him. He was the first to be chosen that night, the King liked the look in his eyes, his defiance and his rage, fear hidden away behind a mask. Igneel didn't know that Natsu would live, that they both would have lived. If Natsu had just kept his head down maybe Igneel would still be alive now—maybe if they knew what was happening—
His throat closes up, emotion welling beneath his skin and choking him. He curls in on himself, dimly realizing that he can't breathe, not even a little. His lungs start screaming, his hands trembling against the ground beneath him. His skin feels clammy, itchy, and when he shifts he feels tense, like his skin is beginning to split, not enough to wrap around his larger frame.
Natsu wishes he could take it all back, wishes that he could go back to the Red Night and do everything different. If he had just kept his head down, made himself smaller than he was, maybe the King wouldn't have chosen him at all, wouldn't have spared him a glance before moving down the line. Igneel wouldn't have died then. The King would have kept him—Igneel was strong, he would have made a good soldier, even if he would have hated the Centari just as much as Natsu did.
Gasping for breath, a muffled whine slips passed Natsu's lips, sounding all too loud in the silence of the room. He hears movement from behind him, can feel Lucy still pressed against his back, curled against him to stay warm in the chill of the night. He can hear her soft breathes, feel her hair tickling the bare skin of his back. Natsu suddenly remembers that he's not alone here, that he hasn't been alone for some time now.
His teeth snap together with a clack. Igneel sweeps back into his thoughts, clouding over his rationality and ripping him far away from the cave in Mithriel. He's taken back to Fiore, to the rings, and suddenly he's standing over Igneel—brave Igneel who treated him more like a son than his parents ever did.
They never got to say goodbye. There were no parting words, no sound besides the slick, wet crunching of a sword tearing through flesh and muscle and bone. Igneel was dead before he even hit the ground. Natsu wishes he could have told Igneel he was sorry, that he loved him, but he hates himself for wanting the, knowing Igneel would have been in pain.
He thinks that having his heart ripped out that day would have hurt less than watching Igneel bleed out in the sand, more still than Natsu had ever seen him.
It was his fault Igneel died.
Sobbing, Natsu doesn't hear Lucy awaken, stirred by the sounds of his cries and his thrashing. She doesn't say a word as he sobs, only curls against his back, arms wrapping around his front and holding him close. Her arms coil around him tightly, holding him steady against her, calming his jerking frame. Gently, she rests a cool palm against his burning skin, fingers splayed over his rapidly beating heart. He can feel her lips against the back of his neck, Lucy murmuring something he can't quite make out, a lullaby he things, something slow and soft meant to soothe him.
Immediately, he's sorry to have waken her, not meaning for his nightmare to keep her awake. It isn't fair for him to push his dreams onto her, not when he knows she has her fair share of them as well. Hers are quieter, little more than a light gasp when she wakes, her limbs jerking slightly. She always curls closer against him on those nights, just enough for him to notice.
Lucy noses the back of his neck, continuing to sing quietly in his ear. The tongue isn't Fiorian, but something lighter, sweeter. A Fae language, he thinks, feeling himself slowly beginning to relax against her. There's something calming in the words, even if he can't make out what they are. Tinged with magic, possibly, though he can't be sure. He doesn't know if Faeborne can weave spells into their words, or if Lucy just has the ability to calm others, but Natsu finds himself able to breathe again.
His hand comes up to cover hers, his fingers trembling. Her arm squeezes around his torso in response, Lucy's singing slipping into little more than a hum. Natsu calms slowly, his heart returning to a normal rate, hands still clammy, skin slick with sweat. He must have been tossing in his sleep. Wincing, he can only hope that he didn't flail or kick, not wanting to have hurt Lucy on accident.
She doesn't seem like she would care either way, letting him sob and jerk in her grasp, low whines pulling from his throat every few seconds. He's openly crying in her arms at this point, loud sounds echoing off the walls of the cave, sounding like roars in the dead silence of the night.
Shame burns in his chest, not because of his tears or his emotions, but because he's keeping her awake. He knows she's just as exhausted as him, more so, given she isn't blessed with the strength of an ancient God, but he's woken her. She's so close he can hear her blink sleepily against his back, her voice hoarse as she murmurs against his skin, promising that he's okay.
They stay like that for a long moment, Natsu a quivering mess and Lucy holding him together, resting firm against his back with her arms tight around him. She continues whispering in his ears: little things, wisps of songs he doesn't know, stories he's never heard, fairy tales about dragons and monsters and soldiers, anything to hold his attention and keep his from slipping away.
Fingers stroke his sweaty hair, brushing the strands away from his face. His skin slowly begins to cool, not nearly as warm as it had been, a testament to his heightened emotions. Soon, his heart begins to slow, less erratic, growing steady though just as loud as before. Eventually, Natsu sighs, relaxing against Lucy when he realizes he can finally breathe normally. She doesn't release him, however, not until his sobs turn to hiccups and he feels utterly drained, not having had a nightmare for some time, not since before he left the capital.
Lucy gives him a squeeze, shifting to prop her chin against his shoulder, lips by his ear. "You okay?" she asks him gently, Natsu having to strain to hear her voice, words muffled by the screaming wind he hadn't noticed before. He doesn't answer her, teeth grinding together. Natsu isn't sure how to respond, because, no, he doesn't think that he is, not right now.
She noses at the side of his neck, bumping the scar on his throat and making him wince. "Are you okay?" she repeats, louder this time, thinking he simply hadn't heard her. There's something desperate in her voice, something pleading with him to answer her. His chest squeezes, Natsu managing a stiff nod that he doesn't think is very convincing. He feels her relax against him, relieved with his acknowledgment. She squeezes at his arm gently, thumb rubbing at his skin soothingly. "Natsu, what's wrong?"
He tries to answer, voice crackling he mumbles something even he can't make out. Lucy shifts closer, practically blanketing him. He's surrounded by her scent, stardust and something a bit like honey, thick and warm, sweet-smelling. Again, he feels horrible for keeping her awake, wondering if he stays silent for long enough she might simply go back to sleeping.
The thought is shaken away as quickly as it comes, Natsu snorting silently. He knows her better than that, knows she would never just leave him when she thinks he needs her. She's too caring to do something like that, he's seen it in her eyes. When she cares about someone, even the slightest, she would move mountains for them if they asked her to. But he's not, asking her to, that is. Lucy will wait until he does, he knows, staying up with him all night to make sure he's okay.
A small smile pulls at his lips, Natsu managing to swallow down a soft sob when he feels her fingers tracing patters across his chest, so light he almost doesn't notice.
She's not going anywhere.
He releases a shaky exhale, slowly relaxing against her. Natsu wets his lips, swallowing thickly and trying to clear his throat. In his mouth, his tongue feels heavy, thick and all too big. His mouth is dry, and when he tries to speak the first time, nothing comes out but a quivering sound. She doesn't press him, letting him take as much time as he needs. She'll be there, waiting until he's ready to talk.
"The rings," he finally chokes out, voice cracking horribly. He winces at the sound, eyes squeezing shut tightly for a long moment. He sees Igneel again—bloody and broken, unseeing gaze—and his green eyes snap back open. "Family," he mumbles, not making any sense. He stares at the mouth of the cave, watching at the worn blanket is thrashed around violently, barely holding against the storm. "I just—" He can't finish, shaking his head slowly.
Lucy nudges the crease where his jaw meets his neck, warm breath fanning against the side of his throat. She shifts behind him, knee bumping against the back of his leg gently. "What about them?" she murmurs against the shell of his ear, fingers carting through his hair slowly, removing small tangles with practiced ease. "Natsu?" she breathes his name, a hint of worry in her tone when he doesn't reply after a long moment. "Talk to me." She hesitates for a moment. "Please?"
He sighs, wetting his lips again. "I lost my dad," he finally tells her, "when they took us from Fiore." He winces, never having said the words aloud. He's never told anyone about Igneel, never breathed a word of him to anyone—never thought anyone deserved to know, not after what they all did, not after how they've treated him and any other Berserk they've come across. It was never their place to know how much he was hurt by it.
If they wanted to pretend he was some kind of monster that could feel nothing but rage, that's what he would be. They didn't deserve to know who he was, how much he could feel.
Lucy doesn't ask what he means, knowing by the tone of his voice that Igneel must have been lost to the slaughter of the Red Night, one of the many bodies left behind to rot, as if they had meant absolutely nothing.
She tangles her fingers through his, thumb gently rubbing across his knuckles, hand squeezing his with every other pass of her skin against his. She doesn't breathe a word, leaving him to his silence, not wanting to press. He almost wishes she would as he lets her play with his fingers; he isn't sure how much he'll be able to say without prompting.
But Lucy doesn't press, just holds his hand in hers, arms locked around him tightly.
Slowly, the tension leaves him, his nightmare slipping from his mind as his mouth moves without his permission. "Well," he corrects, shaking his head slowly, "he wasn't my dad." Natsu gives her hand a squeeze, smiling slightly as he allows himself to talk about Igneel for the first time in over a decade. "But he might as well have been." There's something cathartic about talking about him now, his heart squeezing as he speaks, but in a good way. He's missed Igneel—missed thinking about the good times. "He took care of me, taught me how to fight, made sure the guards stayed away from me…" he trails off.
"I was so young then," he murmurs, lifting his head from the ground to cast a quick look at Lucy, finding her already staring at him, watching his expression with a careful eye. He manages a smile for her, though it doesn't quite meet his eyes. "Six," he continues, guessing, "seven, maybe." Natsu wrinkles his nose, dropping his head back down with a tired sigh. "I knew him for less than four years, but he was family, you know?"
More of a family than his own. At least Igneel never abandoned him, handing him off to slave traders. He'll never forgive his family for that, not after everything he's been through.
Lucy's arms tighten around him, just enough for him to feel it. "Oh, Natsu," she murmurs against his ear, a sad note to her tone. She buries her face against the side of his neck, still carting her fingers through his messy, sweaty hair, doing whatever she can to keep him calm.
He hopes she isn't afraid of him. He won't lose his control, not here. Natsu won't hurt her, not so long as he can help it.
"They killed him," he tells Lucy gently, body deflating with a heavy sigh. Natsu catches his bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines pricking at the thin layer of skin so hard hat he draws blood. "He was trying to protect me." Natsu's free hand clenches into a fist beside his face, nails digging into his palm. "And they killed him."
For a long moment silence surrounds them, thickening until Natsu can barely breathe. He takes a shaky breath, heart pounding and pulse screaming in his ears. Lucy doesn't speak, doesn't move, for a long second she doesn't even breathe, his words still laying heavy in the air between them as the wind howls outside.
"Why?" Lucy asks softly after several seconds, confusing him for a moment. His eyes narrow a tick. Pergrande doesn't need a reason for slaughter, for murder. They don't care who they hurt—and someone will hurt. Someone always hurts. The King lives for pain, relishes in it. Why else would he massacre innocents? What sense is there in slaughter if it isn't meant to protect anyone.
He understands what she's asking a moment later. Why was Igneel trying to protect him. Natsu tugs at her fingers, playing with them much as she did to him earlier. Smiling slightly, he runs his thumb along her knuckles slowly, feeling each bump beneath his fingers. "When he took us, he also scarred us," he tells her, shrugging. He doesn't mind the physical scar from that night. It isn't pretty, but it means he lived.
Lucy holds him closer. "You're neck," she murmurs sadly, nosing at the scar before her. Her nose is cold against his skin, and he shivers at her soft touch.
"They had us lined up in the arena," he says, watching as Lucy's fingers curl around his. His gaze snaps to the cave wall, eyes following the shape of a large crack from the floor to halfway up the side. "Forced us to get on our knees." Natsu spits it like a curse, a low growl rumbling in his chest, voice hoarse with a snarl. "Most of us were too young or too weak to do anything." Lucy's fingers tickle the palm of his hand. "He slaughtered anyone that tried."
She shifts behind him, slipping in closer to his warm back, a shiver wracking her body, the cold night seeping into her bones. Drawing nonsensical shapes against his calloused palm, Lucy asks him, "What was his name?"
He grins. "Igneel," he tells her proudly, voice cracking slightly. He hasn't said that name in so long. "His name was Igneel." Tears burn at his eyes, Natsu trying to blink them back, only for them to slip throw, leaving wet trails down the side of his face. "They would have kept him alive," he sobs, "he was strong. They would have let him live but—" He can't finish, shaking his head roughly.
Lucy hushes him gently, shifting to press her lips against his shoulders, not quite a kiss. "He was trying to save you," she reminds him quietly, breath ghosting against his bare arm.
"But why?" he asks her, laughing, though there's no humor to it. "What good would it have done?" Natsu snaps at her, growling, but Lucy only holds him tighter, unconcerned with his sudden anger.
Her fingers wiggle out of his, coming up to wipe away his tears with soft brushes from her thumb. "Maybe he thought you were someone worth saving," she tells him honestly, his heart cracking in his chest, sobs coming back full force. Lucy never once lets him go.
AN: edited 4/21/18. I'll try to update a chapter or two tomorrow.