"Oh, I feel a little queasy..." Levy looked pleadingly at Gajeel. "Can we get rid of the finger?" She asked him, looking suddenly pale, her amorous mood, gone and forgotten. Thinking about it, so was his. Severed limbs usually had that effect. It was expected.
Gajeel poked at the finger. Horrifyingly it looked like it had been bitten off. Guild ring still intact. The stump was jagged and ripped. Pulled apart at the joint. The symbol for the Hammerdown mercenaries stamped on the face of the gold band. Methodical, reputable and exceedingly expensive, Hammerdown never branded themselves. It was easier to remove a ring and deny a guild member was ever actually a guild member, than it was with a tattoo. To prevent the darker jobs they took from coming back to them or their clients.
The severed digit was fresh. Blood not yet dried. The man must have seen or found something he shouldn't have for her to have taken him out. There wouldn't have been any other reason to kill him and cast suspicions on the whole thing. Though ripping off a finger sounded like an act of rage, rather than necessity.
"Can we flush it down the toilet or something?" Levy asked, hopeful.
Gajeel harrumphed. Of all the things to hear his girlfriend ask him while sitting half naked on a large bed. It was weird. He truthfully felt incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden.
"It's small enough," He acquiesced, slipping the ring off the finger and setting it on the bedside table. It wasn't likely that the weighty piece of bloodied gold would flush at all. They'd need to dispose of that separately. "Back in a second," He stood and wandered into the bathroom. The toilet sounding a moment later.
"Well, I can mark that of my 'never done that before' list," Gajeel grunted. They weren't even an hour in town and already they were getting severed fingers in the mail.
"You think we should see if she needs any help?" It was one of Levy's most admirable traits; always looking out for others. It was a valid concern. Their unlikely compatriot was out in the woods on her own and had already had a run in with trouble.
"If she was okay enough to drop off a severed finger and a note, I reckon she's fine," He reasoned, but shook his head at the look of ligering concern on her face. "The old geezer spoke with her, we'll ask him if she looked okay. That do you?" It was far too risky to go out there at the moment and be spotted. Even though she'd taken out men, there was still nothing to link her to them yet, and it was a dangerous world out there. A group of men stumbling across a lone woman in the forest might not leave her be. They might find themselves very dead for the trouble.
If they were very lucky she might even be considered competition. This type of work was usually pay on delivery and clients often hedged their bets on more than one group. She fit the bill quite well, what with her appearance, skills and demeanor. She didn't have the look or the manner of a Fiorean. No guild mark either.
Levy didn't answer him with words, instead throwing herself at him in a hug. He caught her assault mid-air with a laugh and turned, falling back onto the bed with her in his arms. They still had several hours till dinner and Gajeel was happy enough to spend those sleeping, with her curled against him.
They ate in awkward silence. The weather mage glaring daggers at Gajeel for the entire meal, which actually turned out to be quite good. Slow cooked beef that made him wish the man would move closer to Magnolia. It was almost worth the staring. The Dragon Slayer grimaced at the man's open and unconcealed dislike of him. In a way he was used to it. People he knew quite well, people he worked with held a barely concealed distain at his very presence for the most part. It may have been changing, but it was a slow process. He was used to having enemies.
The tension between them all clearly made Levy very uncomfortable. Her small hands fidgeting with the cutlery, her eyes looking anywhere but at them. Eventually though, even she'd had enough.
"So, the woman that arrived with the package..." Levy began, somewhat nervously. "...you didn't happen to notice if she was hurt or anything. I mean, did she seem okay?" She set down her fork completely at the frown now winding its way across the old man's face. "Her letter said she might have run into trouble," She quickly explained.
The weather mage looked down at his dinner and shook his head.
"Blood wasn't hers," He deadpanned, taking another mouthful of his own food, uncaring.
Levy looked wide eyed at Gajeel. He patted her hand reassuringly from across the table.
"I'm sure she's fine, Shrimp," He whispered soothingly to her.
She wasn't her sister. Wasn't a guildmate. But Levy was the type of woman that didn't leave people behind when things got rough. She'd made mistakes in the past, but she made it a point to never repeat them. She wouldn't leave the woman out there to the figurative wolves.
The wizard saint looked confusedly at them. Having spent the majority of his life a soldier, he knew when to worry. Her presence concerned him more than her safety. Atlan could be ruthless. They threw their own children to dogs to punish insolence. They were a small country, with a xenophobic people and a comparatively tiny population, probably because they killed more of their own than any enemy state, and their country was one locked in by desert. Their government, their culture was feared for its brutality and their lands weren't worth the cost of taking. The wars that took place never officially involved them. They were for the most part, neutral. Chaotic neutral. But neutral none the less. Their people, the ones that chose to leave their homeland, sold their skills to the highest bidder. If Fiore went to war, guaranteed there would be Atlan on both side of the battlefield. What was just as certain was that they would give each other no quarter.
In so many ways, they were little more than slaves to a society and breeding that turned them into killers.
Gajeel bit back the snarl when the old man scoffed at him.
"Once knew a soldier of fortune from Carak, small province north of the Atlan Beash desert. Man didn't speak and he'd walk with a limp. Broken leg that'd healed wrong. He didn't do too much. Commander hired him to take the night watch most of the time, so my squad wouldn't have to. Don't think I ever really saw him sleep in the three months he travelled with us. I didn't know too much about Atla at the time. I thought the man was a trader more than a soldier. He didn't seem particularly dangerous. And then one night we got caught out. By the time we were awake he'd beaten two of them to death with his fists before taking a knife in the throat," He leaned forward for emphasis. "I watched him pull a blade out of his neck and kill three men with it in the time it took him to bleed to death," He swallowed another mouthful of food. His face a mask of indifference again though his eyes were piercing. "Your friend will be fine."
His tone left Gajeel with no doubts that the man was carrying some sort of grudge. As much as he seemed to dislike Gajeel for reasons unknown, there was a tightness to the set of his jaw when they mentioned her. She must have left an impression.
"Next night without a moon we'll take a walk out there," Gajeel ignored his words, the smell of anxiety starting to roll off Levy was enough to taint the flavour of the food. The old wizard saint was doing nothing to help the situation, contrary to Gajeel's original plan to assuage Levy's fears that this escapade wouldn't get someone killed. He'd done nothing but rattle them both. Only in different ways.
"We should probably turn in," Gajeel announced and he never saw Levy move as fast from the table. Despite all that she'd said about her not being her sister, he was beginning to doubt how much she truly felt it. Emotionally she was gravitating toward the woman. Gajeel expected before all this was over and done with there'd be a Fairy Tail brand on the seamstress and Levy would be inviting her to family dinners. He felt odd about referring to her without a name. People had names. She was a person.
Though the woman would need to lay off of the finger removal in the future. He knew from personal experience that the unrestrained violence wouldn't earn her any favours back at the guild. Though Natsu had warmed to her quickly enough.
Gajeel also had his concerns about the full extent of her magic. It had been bothering him for some time now, how Calus' magic seemed to have morphed from the first time they'd seen him do something. When he'd emerged wearing her skin, he'd commanded the earth to swallow that warlord. Able to exert his will over the inanimate. Whereas, lately he seemed only able to influence people. Like a puppet master. Gajeel wondered how much of that original display of power had been him, and how much had been the lingering traces of Levy's sister he'd stolen. There was a chance that the seamstress had power enough to influence more than souls with her voice.
Gajeel watched Levy go, heaving a tired breath before leveling the innkeeper with a withering look.
"I ain't got a problem with you, don't even have a problem with you having a problem with me. But lay off the doom and gloom. That's not helpin' anyone here," He gave the old man a hard look. "Be straight with me. How'd she seem?"
The man pushed his plate aside and folded his hands on the table. He was a soldier, through and through. Gajeel's direct, no nonsense approach seemed to be the way to go with him.
"Tired. A little shaken but she covered it well. I couldn't see any injuries but she was bloodied up some," He answered clearly.
"She can heal herself. Doesn't mean she ain't hurt, though," Gajeel admitted. He was beginning to think that the person in the most danger in Brink was in fact their backup. At the inn they may have made visible targets, but out on her own she was certainly the easiest of the targets. Levy's concern was well founded it would seem. Woman always seemed a step or two ahead of him in most ways.
"If you see her again, don't let her leave without speaking to one of us," Gajeel whispered leaving the man to the remainder of his meal.
Levy was showering when he got back to their room. The smell of soap and the sound of running water permeated the area. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, focusing his hearing on the noises outside their accommodation. Trying to relax. The shuffling footsteps of their not so gracious host, the whistle of a kettle downstairs. The sound of Levy humming in the shower. But there was something else. Something bothering him. He concentrated for a moment longer before he recognized what was grating so roughly at his sense of calm.
The smell of fire and the crackle of flame on wood. It wasn't a cold night and probably to prevent any drunk guests from setting the inn alight in the middle of the night, there was no hearth at the Sky inn. The building may have been old but the facilities were all modern. His eyes snapped open and he stood and threw open their windows, coughing as billows of smoke wafted in.
Through the hot, stinging haze he saw the yellow flicker crawling up along the wall beneath their room window. Climbing higher and higher.
They'd been expecting that Levy would put up protections. Wasn't that precisely the method of defense she'd choose? They'd only done the most rational thing to do instead of following them into an obvious trap, it was way simpler to just burn them out.
Gajeel burst into the bathroom earning him a squeal from the script mage who silenced herself seeing the look of panic on his face. She reached for a towel and followed quickly after him, coughing on the smoke filled air and grabbing as much of her things as she could before heading downstairs.
They burst through the door behind the bar to find the innkeeper seated at one of the tables sipping tea.
The absurdity of the man's level of calm was beyond understanding.
"You're on fucking fire!" Gajeel shouted at him. The man set down his cup with a look of insincere concern.
"Am I?" He asked dubiously, facetiously patting down imaginary flames on his torso, before shaking his head disbelievingly.
Then Gajeel heard it outside. The sound of thunder. The noise of it so loud it made the walls quake, the cutlery rattle and buck against the wooden shelves. Followed by rain. Heavy belting rain. The wood outside stripped bare with the force of the downpour.
The fire that had been set against the back wall of the inn, directly under their room wouldn't be spreading in this. Gajeel would be hazarding a guess that the torrential rainstorm that had sprung up out of nowhere was drowning the flames licking the outside of the building.
The old man huffed at the state of the pair of them. Gajeel was in his bare feet holding his bag and boots in each hand. Levy was wrapped haphazardly in a towel, clutching rumpled clothes and her satchel to her stomach. The innkeeper stood slower and walked to the door. Opening it to a crystal clear night sky and a waxen moon.
The only indication that there'd even been rain was the thick, deep mud outside. The rainfall too heavy and too fast for the ground to have absorbed it.
"You should be able to track their footprints in the mud. They took off north," He gave them the slightest of grins. The excitement of the evenings events having lifted his otherwise down, stoic manner. "They won't outrun the storm."
Gajeel debated the reasoning behind following them. The plan had been to lure their pursuers to the inn and catch them out. Leaving the safety of their trap to chase after them didn't seem like wisdom. But the bait had already worked. Record time as well. Not even one night. They were clearly being watched. But considering they'd already played their surprise wizard saint card so early, the bait might not be enough to lure them in a second time. Their best chance now was while their attackers were off guard and on the run.
Dressing quickly and taking a few necessities, Levy and Gajeel took off into the darkness after them. The Dragon Slayer's night vision picked out the boot prints easily enough in star light. The width between the steps telling him just how frantic the run had been in the rain. Slipping and sliding sideways and back, unable to gain purchase on the slick slope up into the woods out of town.
Gajeel saw it in the darkness before Levy, the enormous blades of the mill in the distance.
In terms of speed and strength, Gajeel was difficult to outclass, but this terrain was tough for him. Even using iron spikes in his boots the mud hindered him greatly. Levy being much smaller made much quicker work of it and he found himself coming up the rear as they tracked their prey. The sight of her racing ahead of him while they hunted down their quarry made his blood sing.
The tracks were leading toward the abandoned building. If Gajeel was in their position he'd be looking for somewhere to take shelter. Quite likely they spotted the old mill at a distance on their way down into town and figured it would be the best place to regroup. The rain was still falling heavily at their location when Gajeel and Levy arrived. They soaked through in seconds, stepping into the storm; a verifiable wall of falling water.
The men probably hadn't realized that someone was already in there when they'd arrived. Gajeel reckoned the woman was more than likely in a foul mood if the days events had been anything to go by. After all, she'd already run into trouble twice and had to move camp; she'd been in town all of about six hours. He felt like laughing. Another trouble magnet. She was definitely Fairy Tail material.
Gajeel took back what he'd said about the trap being sprung early. They really couldn't have organized this better had they actually tried. They had them legitimately surrounded.
As they drew closer the sounds of clashing steel grew louder, punctuated by the crack of splintering wood. A man exploded out through the closed doors and when he landed it was square in the middle of a circle of runes. Levy's fingers darting in the air. The woman hadn't needed her light pen for this type of precision work for some time, and she was only growing faster.
Gajeel rushed into the building while Levy made sure no one was escaping and the sight that greeted the Dragon slayer was one of chaos. The great stone grinding wheel at the base of the mill had been split in half. The sundered stone worn down by use and currently divided into two separate pieces. Old, stale flour coated the Hammerdown men. Though men would be a stretch. Some of them were too young to be considered more than children to Gajeel. Definitely not experienced enough to have been sent out on a direct assault against mages. Fairy Tail mages, no less. More than likely they were inexperienced recruits tasked with setting the blaze and driving them out for a a stronger team to take down. It clearly hadn't gone to plan. Gajeel could see some older groaning bodies lying in the debris.
Much to the Dragon Slayer's surprise, the woman hadn't killed any of them. They were all in various states of injury, but they were still breathing.
The handful of remaining opponents turned to him then. He extended his hands and they watched with careful consideration as his fingers merged and formed a pair of long jagged blades. Though, if he'd have had to give them one piece of advice, it would have been to never turn your back on the crazy woman with the weapons. Erza was a walking poster for that particular sentiment.
One of the men fell to his knees clutching the back of his head with bloody fingers. The seamstress having materialized behind him only to crack him over the skull with the pommel of her sword forcing the others to move. Grouping together for protection. She'd been a match for a half a dozen of them. They stood no chance against Gajeel. The stun grenades at their hips told him exactly how they were planning to complete their mission when already outmatched.
"We've been fucking set up," One of the older rasped in anger, having taken a good look at Gajeel and realizing they'd been pinned between the two Fairy Tail parties. From the outside it looked like they'd been manipulated. In truth, it was a lucky coincidence but a guild like Hammerdown wouldn't see it like that. It was too convenient. Too neat. Too precise. A guild like theirs would certainly come with their share of enemies; competition, old allies turned bitter rivals. Unlike the wizards guilds, the others didn't have a governing body like the Magic council, there to watch their every move and bring them to heel when they crossed the line. If they weren't found to be outside the local laws, if they weren't caught, they rarely suffered consequences. As a result though, these guilds often found themselves battling each other. Everything from clients to interrupted missions. Territory.
No one really cared so long as they kept it between themselves. No one intervened.
The man to his side turned away from the tired and bleeding woman and rushed Gajeel, who sidestepped a clumsy, fatigued swing and brought his own blade down, sheering the man's sword in two and sending him staggering with the force of it. His hands shaking having taken the impact up his arms.
Gajeel grinned, dropping before he swept the mans feet out from underneath him and pinned him to the dirt. A heavy boot at the base of his throat.
The Dragon Slayer motioned for the seamstress to move back, and she glared unhappily at him but followed his lead. He assessed the situation quickly. The men would be idiots not to know that they were after Fairy Tail wizards. But thanks to the turn of events, it looked like all of this had been planned. Gajeel figured the best thing to do would be to play along with their current fears. That they'd been double crossed.
"I think we've all been set up here," He looked down disapprovingly at the man at his feet. "Guaranteed from your faces you weren't expecting a third party," He let his eyes flicker to the seamstress hoping the man followed his train of thought. "Just like we weren't expecting an official guild. Fairy Tail ain't in the business of making enemies like that over a few jewel,"
If he was careful and convincing, he could brush this off as someone trying to play both sides against each other. Hoping they'd take each other out, or weaken each other enough to take down themselves. Gajeel grinned. This was what he was good at. He knew how these types of men thought. He'd been one of these types of men.
He could see the man's face betray his mind. Gajeel was making sense. A lot of sense. The Dragon Slayer prepared himself for the final nail. If he was right then he could have the client blacklisted with the guilds. As competitive and volatile as their relationships were with each other, they still communicated disreputable clientele. None of the other guilds would ever admit to helping orchestrate something like this so they would go ahead with the rest and blacklist the client regardless of any potential involvement.
"Matheson?" Gajeel let the name drop and it fell like a stone along with the man's face. He knew he'd hit his target when the guild member waved to the others to stand down.
Gajeel removed his boot and let the mercenary stand. The seamstress put her swords away and walked passed them, purposefully clipping one of the men's shoulders with her own. Making him stumble, hard. Gajeel caught the smile pulling at her face as she moved by him and headed outside. There were seven in total, not counting the man still with Levy, trapped in runes.
"We'd rather not get anyone else involved in this," Gajeel began. "Could do without the embarrassment," He finished.
The Hammerdown man rolled his shoulder and picked up the pieces of his sword before tossing them aside in distain.
"Agreed," He glanced to Gajeel, understandingly. "Stupid fuck's gonna regret pissing us about," He snarled.
Those left standing helped their comrades to their feet and filed outside. Battered, bruised but luckily alive.
"There a guy missing a finger?" Gajeel asked, curiously looking around. She'd been surrounded by seven men and hadn't killed a single one. He needed to know what kind of person she was. He'd seen her kill. She'd cut a bloody path through the fortress the last time, but in between it, seemed she'd lost her taste for death and destruction. What had made her rip off a finger, he wasn't entirely certain he'd be happy finding out, but he needed to know.
"There was. We're a lot of things, but..." He wrinkled his nose in distaste before laughing humorlessly. "We'd have done worse to him if we'd have caught 'em. Surprised, honestly, any desert dog I ever met would have feminized him and fed him his own balls," The man grinned.
Gajeel nodded silently. He didn't find the joke terribly funny. Though it explained why one man's finger ended up wrapped in parchment. He grit his teeth. He'd need to speak to Levy about it. He wouldn't even be the right person to bring this up directly. He very much wanted to keep his own jewels intact.
The mercenaries left and Gajeel expected they'd see a quiet period before the next wave against them. The next step would be to find someone on the council they could trust. Bring them into it. If Matheson got blacklisted, their story would be easy to prove. The official guilds would back them up
Levy was waiting outside for him. The man she'd trapped was gone, along with the remainder of those hired to take them.
The script mage spared a glance to Gajeel, worry on her face. The woman in armor was walking with a limp now. Her body trudging slowly through the mud. When she stumbled and fell Levy was at her side to catch her. Though the combined weight of the armor and weapons sent the script mage to her knees in the muck.
"Gajeel?" She asked pleadingly as the woman in her arms lost consciousness.
The Dragon Slayer grabbed one of the straps across her back, the largest of the leather pieces holding her pauldron in place and hoisted her over one of his shoulders.
Levy placed her hand on his forearm and let it linger. The pair of them were soaking wet and their skin had started to cool. But the place they touched was a burning source of heat.
Notes
Bit of a longer chapter. I've tortured myself over the pacing. I've gone and got the flu and I honestly can't be happy with it.
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