Natsu did not like ships on the best of days. Storm days were hell on earth. At port, protected by a pier and a peninsula, you'd think there'd be nowhere for the ship to rock, but even its gentle seesawing was too damn much. He was below deck; no port holes to see out of, and the trap door was closed, so he couldn't even see sky. He could only listen to the waves slap the side of the ship, a wet thuck, thuck, thuck, and the wind howling in response.

Juvia took pity on him three days ago and gave him a bucket to be sick into and even managed to still the waters in a radius around the ship to make it stop rocking so much. The sickness was bred-in-the-bone, though, and couldn't be banished now that it'd begun.

His clothing clung to him with cold sweat. The stench of onions and cabbage and other root vegetables suitable for long journeys furthered his nausea, and he would do anything, anything, to get off this goddamn boat.

"Please," Natsu called to no one. He managed not to beg on the first day, but they were approaching a week of exile in this hellhole, he was exhausted, dehydrated, and starving, and if he had any pride left, he'd trade it for the chance to get out of here. He would bargain anything he had; he'd say anything. He'd try anything, and had. His shackles couldn't be picked, his magic couldn't be forced through them, he couldn't bull his way through the hull of the ship and into the cool waters beyond.

"Hello!"

Sometimes, he thought they left him on board by himself to wither, in hopes that when they returned from their lavish parties, he'd be dead. Then he'd hear someone sigh or cough or the croak of deck boards and he'd know he wasn't the last person on earth.

"Hello!"

"Would you be quiet?" barked a familiar voice finally. Natsu hadn't seen much of Duke Porla. When he first arrived, he came down the steps to sneer at Natsu. Natsu had thrown up on his expensive leather shoes, however, and the gloating and threatening had been cut short. He was coming down now.

Natsu had to squint against the drab daylight as the door was thrown open. His eyes burned and he couldn't look up. He tried focusing instead on a spot on the damp and filthy floor to give his eyes time to adjust. It wasn't a pretty sight. This part of the ship would benefit from a razing, that's how filthy it was.

Natsu asked, "Have you found the duke yet?" Raiding his sea-side home felt like a thing that had happened to someone else. For all that he'd tried, Natsu couldn't fathom what made him think that was a good idea.

"No." Duke Porla knelt in front of Natsu and looked him over head-to-foot. Natsu was in a sorry state; his clothes seemed to hang off his frame. Porla curled his nose. "You're filthy."

Natsu showed his teeth in a snarl and before he could stop himself, he was cursing at Jose Porla in a way he'd never cursed at anyone before, inventing words and marrying others.

Jose stood and looked down his nose at Natsu as though he were a parasite. "Stand."

Natsu quieted. His thoughts ticked away, trying to suss out Jose's angle. Was he going to beat him? And, more importantly, could Natsu somehow get by him and escape this hell pit? He wasn't sure where he'd go but it would be far, far away where he wouldn't be a fugitive. He wasn't sure which skills he'd peddle to make his way through life as a regular human, but he'd figure something out.

Impatient, Jose grabbed Natsu by the bicep and hauled him to his feet with surprising strength.

Natsu braced himself for a thrashing that never came. Jose pulled him bodily across the deck and pushed him up the stairs into the storm. No rain touched the deck, it was held back by magic, and no wind pushed Natsu's hair from his forehead, though beyond the decking, a wicked tempest bore down on Alvarez. The skies were drab for as far as the eye could see and the sea was a diamond in the ruff, grey on grey on grey. Natsu drank the sight in, still sick, but better now that he could see the horizon.

"Keep walking." Jose pushed between his shoulders.

"I may be a prisoner but I'm still royalty," Natsu growled. There was more bark than bite in him; his knees were wobbly.

Jose stepped in front of him and bowed. "Your Highness, if you please."

Natsu knew he was being mocked but when Jose waved him into the captain's quarters where a spread of food and water waited, he forgot how to be righteously angry. In the corner of the room, Jose's tall guard waited. Natsu tried to remember his name but could not.

"Bath first," Jose ordered as Natsu was reaching for a piece of mango with his filthy hands.

Natsu stilled. "Will you remove my shackles?" He held his breath, waiting for Jose's answer.

Jose plucked a ripe strawberry from the same fruit platter Natsu was reaching for and made a show of savouring it, breathing in its fresh aroma before taking a bite. "Aria will assist you."

Natsu's chest felt tight with excitement. He tried to appear neutral. "Thank you."

Jose waved them on. Aria opened a door in the corner of the room and ushered Natsu inside. The space was tight, a vanity on one side, a full tub for bathing in the other. Steam rose from the water, smelling like rosewater. The bath looked so good, Natsu almost banished his thoughts of escape.

Nearly.

"Hands." With his eyes covered by bandages, Natsu couldn't tell what Aria was thinking or feeling as he held up his bound hands for Aria's key.

"What happened to your eyes?" Natsu wondered.

Aria was a man of few words and kept his own counsel. He undid one of the shackles, moving unhindered as though he could see. After the click of the lock releasing, relief flooded through Natsu. He wiggled his raw wrist. There was blood caking his skin and flakes of skin where his flesh had roughed. It hurt but in a good way. In a free way.

He held up his hand for the next.

"Only one," Aria monotoned.

The unjustness of it all hit Natsu and almost laid him flat. "How am I to bathe with shackles on my wrist?"

Aria stood like a pillar in front of the door. "You have ten minutes. Then we return to Duke Porla."

It's an inconvenience, Natsu thought, the spell is weak enough, and with all the strength he could muster, he summoned his magic.

It expanded in his chest, poured hot lava through his veins, reached the end of his fingertips. And then just before it released, it backfired, retracted all throughout his body, and he felt like he was burning from the inside out. He curled in on himself, not even able to scream his pain. Lady Eileen's enchantment was like a layer of scalding oil. His skin was the water it coated, and he could not break free. He could only drown in agony.

Through it all, Aria patiently watched with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was some time before Natsu could move without pain. He sat up first, then, cautiously, stood, breathing heavily. He could smell himself contrasting against the rosewater. Sweat and bile and something near defeat.

"Five minutes now," Aria said in his same droning voice. It was like all the happy had been sapped out of him and all that was left was this husk of a miserable man who did not cry because he did not yet know he was miserable.

Natsu stripped and climbed into the cooling water. Days of filth peeled off him. Slowly, he scrubbed every inch of himself he could possibly reach. He missed Happy. He missed the castle. He missed his life before Lady Eileen meddled in it. He missed the option of changing out his water so he could bathe again. He was sure he'd be denied if he asked. He very much didn't want to ask. And he was out of time.

Natsu accepted the towel Aria gave him, and then the new clothes. They were plain white but well-made and warm. Dressed, he expected Aria to put his shackle back on, but he didn't.

Out they went. Jose was sitting behind a long wooden desk with a plate of food in front of him, his ledgers on the corner. He ate with his hands. "You smell better than rat piss, at least."

Natsu bristled. "When you leave a person for a week with no way to clean themselves—"

Jose interrupted. "Eat. Highness."

"Fuck you."

Jose wiped the edges of his mouth with a cloth. He wasn't affected by Natsu's seething. In fact, he seemed to rather enjoy it. "Aria, get our prince a plate."

Aria did as he was told, heaping it high and set it down across from Jose. Glistening exotic fruits and honeyed buns, fresh sliced meat and imported cheeses. Natsu stared at it. His stomach was turning itself inside out. He couldn't tell if he was nauseous because he hadn't eaten anything in days or if it was the constant to and fro of the ship.

Jose said nothing and eventually, Natsu's grumbling stomach got the best of him. He sat in the seat across from Jose and picked up a bun first, thinking that was the safe bet. It was hell getting it to go down. He washed it back with cold water. Some of his sickness abated. He ate more. Slowly, warily.

"Once you're done, you can use my chambers to freshen up, Highness," Jose offered with a curl of his lips.

Natsu paused, a piece of mango half-way to his mouth. "What's changed?"

It was like he was talking to a wall. Jose continued to eat and Natsu received no answer. It took some effort to get into the headspace of prisoner, even after he spent days in the hull of the ship in darkness. He banished the urge to order it out of Jose. He'd be laughed at and he didn't know what he'd do then. Beat Jose with his bare hands and further ruin the relationship between their two countries?

Why are you even worried about that at a time like this? Natsu scolded himself. Zeref abandoned him to Fiore. He banished him to imprisonment in the bottom of a ship when he knew Natsu got seasick. He—

Was walking across the port with Lucy in tow.

Natsu stood so he could better see out of Jose's windows. Lucy and Zeref had ridden in on horses. They left them at the edge of the market with a segment of the guard. The rest of the armed men trailed ahead and behind Zeref, making sure no beggar got to close, no disenchanted got the chance to lob anything rotten at His Royal Majesty.

"Is it time already? Up you get, Highness," Jose still sneered. Natsu hated his smarmy face. He wanted to hit it.

He found the restraint only because Jose left the room to invite Zeref on the ship. Aria remained watching Natsu; his face was as stoic as a stone.

"Don't you smile?" Natsu asked. Aria ignored him, of course. "You curl the edges here," he mimed at his lips. "And contract your face muscles. Like this." He showed his teeth. "Your eyes will get squinty and your disposition may even improve. I recommend you try."

Nothing.

Natsu sighed and turned his attention outside the cabin. Zeref was boarding the ship in all his kingly glory. He wore a crushed velvet cloak that was whipped by the wind until he stepped into Jose's enchantment. Natsu suddenly felt sick. Was he going to bring up everything he just ate? Not only did he notice the movement of the ship again, but he was also nervous. He didn't know what he was going to say to his brother or what his brother was going to say to him or what Lucy was doing there on his tail. Natsu practiced an angry face and then a tranquil face, trying to decide which was better to greet them.

His countenance always rested back in sickness.

It took everything in Natsu's power not to throw open the door of Jose's quarters and throw himself at Zeref's feet, begging forgiveness or at least a transfer of cells. He would gladly pay his penance in the dungeons below the castle if it meant getting off this damn boat.

Don't be desperate, Natsu reminded himself as Jose returned to his quarters with Zeref in tow. Lucy was a few steps behind them. Her eyes skimmed over the decking and the sails before landing on Natsu. Pain flickered over her face, and sympathy.

The door opened and Zeref came through, trailing with him the scent of the storm and his pomade. His shoulders were damp and his hair beaded water, which meant Lady Eileen wasn't travelling with them. Peculiar.

Natsu didn't bow. Couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off the horizon.

Zeref looked him over top-to-toe and wheeled on Jose. "He looks ill."

Jose bowed just at the waist. "Seasickness only, Your Majesty."

Zeref's eyes flashed like the coals of a fire. He stepped toward Jose. "I told you he was seasick, and you promised your mages could rectify it without the aid of a healer. I had to hear from one of your staff that my brother was disastrously ill and poorly kept."

For a moment, Jose looked intimidated. "They've done the best they can—"

Zeref held up his hand and Jose stopped speaking. "Leave us."

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, he is our prisoner—"

"Out. Before I make you mine."

Jose's lips pursed together in rage, but, to Natsu's surprise, he signaled to Aria and together, they vacated Jose's quarters. Zeref took a moment to himself to gain control of his emotions. He looked around at the food and the art on the wall, all the glamour of the upper decks and none of the filth of the lower.

"If you like, I'll show you where I sleep." Natsu didn't mean to sound bratty, but he did. He chewed the fat part of his cheek, waiting for Zeref's retaliation. Maybe he'd use his magic, break this cursed ship, and Natsu could swim to shore, leaving them all behind. He'd slip into the shadows and live out the remainder of his life as a gutter rat.

Zeref locked eyes with him; they still glowed like embers; Natsu wanted to fidget. "Juvia told me of your conditions and spared no detail."

Juvia was Zeref's informant? He must have really looked pathetic if she took his woes to his brother. Or there was something deeper going on that he didn't grasp.

"Lady Lucy," Zeref waved her forward.

Natsu recalled the way Eileen threw him to the dogs and tried to regard Lucy with wary eyes. He could only see the girl he laid with, the one with gold hair and a sweet, gentle smile. The one that helped her people at great risk to herself.

The one that manipulated you, Natsu thought. Remember. She's willing to do quite a bit to get what she wants.

But when she stepped forward and touched his temple, his bitterness turned from a boil to a low simmer. She smelled like lavender and hibiscus today like the oil was daubed on her wrists. He breathed it in and felt immediately calmer. It was magic craft, healers' tricks.

Lucy trailed her fingers down the side of his cheek and over his shoulders, down his arms to his one shackled and raw wrist. The other was looking worse and worse the longer it was free. Lucy rubbed her thumb over the chafed flesh. "Your restraints were too tight."

Natsu pulled out of her grasp and said nothing in case he was being played by her and Eileen.

Lucy closed her eyes so Natsu couldn't see how bad that hurt her.

In seconds, Natsu could feel the magic strumming through her. She glowed like a sun cresting the horizon. The entire cabin lit up. Only Zeref, watching from the sidelines, countered her brilliance, the black blot of his magic bringing balance. Light and dark on either side.

Lucy's magic crested, so strong, Natsu's skin pricked, and then her celestial spirit appeared.

Ophiuchus was so pale, she was almost non-existent, her skin so thin, Natsu could almost see the bones beneath, her eyebrows and hair so drained of colour, she nearly looked sickly. It was only when she opened her eyes, the blue of the cosmos, that he saw how alive she was.

He'd never appreciated her in her full glory, he was always half-conscious or half-dead. She was terrible and powerful and Lucy, to be linked with her, must be, too. Natsu tried to see her, but Ophiuchus' brilliance was too much.

The spirit touched his wrists. They burned like he wore cuffs of acid. It was over before he could scream. She touched his chest then and the hollow hunger he'd been carting around for days fled. All his discomforts, things normal men were made to live with, vanished. Lucy was a goddess. Perhaps a deceitful one, but most gods were.

"Thank you, Ophiuchus," Lucy said from somewhere in the light. The celestial spirit stepped back from Natsu. Then she faded and Lucy stood before him once more. Her skin still glowed with the aftereffects of magic, making her painfully beautiful.

"And the tonic." Zeref didn't seem as awed by Lucy's display as Natsu thought he should be. He seemed annoyed.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Lucy dug through the golden material of her robes and came out with a blue octagonal vial full to the brim.

"What is it?" Natsu asked warily, recalling Zeref's threats of sense-returning tonics.

"It will help with the seasickness," Lucy assured him.

"So, I'm staying here?" He sought out his brother, still doing all he could not to get caught in the trap that was Lucy.

Zeref said, "We'll discuss it once we have some privacy. Drink, brother."

Natsu was desperate enough to be free of this washy no equilibrium feeling that he sucked it back without further provocation. It tasted like the bottom of a firepit and clung to his throat going down like oil might. He sputtered and tried to spit it back up, but it was as though it had a mind of its own and slithered into his gut.

A pause, then Zeref asked, "Better?"

Natsu considered his state of being. He did feel better. He allowed himself to glance at Lucy. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Zeref answered in Lucy's place. "Now, Lucy, leave us."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Lucy bowed, docile. No longer was she the scheming murderess.

Zeref watched her until the door was closed. He lifted his hand and black magic coiled out like smoke. It felt like a dirty bubble putting pressure on Natsu's ears, and when it popped, his head hurt.

"What was that?" His voice sounded dull to his ears, and in its echo, he heard his own voice again, like a ghost of him was speaking, asking Zeref, 'How was your ride?'

"What's happening?"

'I saw it was raining.'

"It's a spell I learned for this voyage," Zeref said. His voice had an echo, too. It told Natsu that even his boots got wet. "It's a simple bit of anti-eavesdropping magic. You can I can speak normally while in this room. Anyone listening beyond the barrier of the door will hear a very different conversation."

It was sort of ingenious.

Zeref plucked an apple off the table and curled his nose. "Look at this pomp. Did that moron think this would impress me?"

"Did you cast the spell to insult my hosts?" Natsu said the last with quite a bit of scorn.

Zeref dropped the apple so hard, it would bruise. He faced his brother. "I cast it to confess."

"Confess?" Natsu repeated. Immediately, he paraded Zeref's crimes through his mind, those he knew and those he could only guess at. They made him feel weary and weak. "What have you done?"

"I didn't kill Lisanna Strauss, nor did she escape," Zeref began. "I released her with a mission in mind."

"What?" He knew Lisanna was either loose or haunting him from the grave. He didn't suspect Zeref had released her.

"She has a unique ability," Zeref answered. "With her magic, she's able to reach places other spies cannot. I offered her recompense and the assurance that the kingdom will do everything in its power to take her family from Bora's slave ring."

Generous, even for his brother. "You enlisted her to…?"

"Spy on Lady Eileen, of course. I have reason to believe she's trying to start a war between Fiore and Alvarez."

Natsu struggled to keep up. "Why would she want that?"

"She has long been my regent," Zeref said. "Once I came of age, she was stripped of the title, freedom and power she'd enjoyed. She asked to be my general. I told her I had plans for you to take that role. She seemed satisfied at first, but when you didn't perform the way I wanted you to and I opened the position up… she saw another opportunity and was greatly disappointed when Silver took command. She's where she should be, at my side as my sorceress. It's not where she wants to be, however."

Natsu wasn't making the connection. "How would war achieve her goal?"

"Our parents named her regent before they died. That decree still holds. It would give her a chance to seize the throne if it found itself suddenly without a King or a Crown Prince."

Zeref's words hung heavy in the air. "Regicide? She wouldn't."

Zeref's cheekbones got sharp as he pursed his lips. "Little brother. When dragons attack, how often are there any survivors?"

In his memory, hot red blood rested on cold white snow, steaming, stinking, and the dragon, like rotten meat and fetid swamp between its scales as it swooped, claws out, tearing flesh and bone as though it were tissue paper.

Natsu swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "We survived."

"I'm sure we weren't meant to."

"You think she was behind it?"

"I think that dragon was manipulated by magic," Zeref proposed. "That's only reason I can figure it would be so far out of its territory, and the only mage I know powerful enough to manipulate a dragon is Eileen Belserion."

The blows kept coming one after the other. Natsu struggled to process Zeref's words. "Are you sure?"

"Reasonably."

Lucy's spell had made him strong but Zeref's words were draining it away. Natsu had to hold Jose's desk to keep himself standing.

Zeref was still talking, saying things like, 'I'm doing what I can to keep it from coming to blows. I must name her a traitor before she can incite a war.'

Natsu clung to his words. "Why war?"

"There are many ways to kill a king," Zeref said. "And only a few ways Lady Eileen would feel comfortable doing it. She's a sorceress. Magic is her fare. I've been careful, ensuring we're never alone together, carefully guarding myself and my food of poison and magic. War means new people in the castle. Changing of guards, rations. With preparations going on, it would be easier to stage an accident."

"Perhaps you're just being paranoid…" Natsu tried. Zeref was overly cautious at times. Couldn't this be misguided paranoia?

Zeref shook his head with narrowed eyes. "It was Lady Eileen that demanded you raid that Duke's home, wasn't it?"

Natsu opened his mouth to say yes, but he couldn't get the word out; Lady Eileen told him not to speak of her, and he still could not, not with any precision, anyway.

"It belongs to one Duke Jellal Fernandez of Crocus, Fiore's capital city. His courting of Erza Scarlet, Lady Eileen's daughter, was well-documented. When he asked for her hand, Lady Eileen denied him. Now her daughter is missing?" Zeref began to pace over Jose's glossed floor. Each time his heeled boot fell, Natsu winced.

"I was suspicious," Zeref continued, "so I sent Lisanna to investigate. She was able to confirm that Erza was alive and well. This entire thing has been staged. I'm sure even Jellal is in league with Eileen if it means winning her approval of marriage."

All he could think was, "What about Lucy?" Where did she fit into all this?

"I'm sure she's Eileen's creature," Zeref said with certainty.

Natsu's head spun. "Then why bring her here? Why get her to make me a tonic?" If what Zeref was saying was true, she could have killed him.

Zeref stopped pacing to look at Natsu. "You know the adage. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Besides, she wouldn't dare attack the prince in front of the king with an army waiting for the delegation to make a move they didn't like."

He seemed so certain. Natsu didn't know what to believe anymore.

Zeref grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it. "Play your part here and I will take care of everything else. I'll bring you home in a few days. Hopefully, all this will have blown over by then."

"You could be in danger," Natsu said. "I should be home now, where we can take care of each other. Banish the sorceress. Or imprison her." He revisited the shadows where Eileen tormented her prisoner with claws as sharp as steel. Was there a prison in the world strong enough to restrain her?

Zeref shook his head. "She must not know we know. You'll say nothing. Do nothing. Do you understand?"

Natsu opened his mouth to argue more but Silver tapped on the door, interrupting.

"Enter," Zeref called.

"Your Majesty. Highness." Silver bowed only as much as he needed to before standing again. There was tension on his face. "Word has gotten out that you're in the city and your subjects in the Western slums are congregating. We should return to the castle."

Zeref squeezed Natsu's shoulder again. "Take care, brother."

"Are you able to return to the castle undetected?" Natsu worried.

"We have a safe route in place," Zeref told him.

Any time any royal ventured out of the castle, they were supposed to have a contingency return plan that usually involved underground travel if the streets became unsafe or air travel if those routes were cut off. There were mages in Zeref's employ powerful enough to mask his movements no matter which route he took.

"Be safe," Natsu said.

"You'll be released soon," Zeref promised again. He joined Silver and together, with Lucy in tow, they left the ship.

Natsu watched for as long as he could, seeing Zeref leave the docks and then mount his horse. He watched Lucy, too, trying to see her deceit. How much of Eileen's plans was she privy to?

His thoughts were a muddled mess as he tried to sort through what he'd learned. Lady Eileen, responsible for their parents' death? Was it possible? Of course, anything was possible when you put power and influence on the line. But was it probable?

In his heart lived the boy that watched Lady Eileen torment her prisoner, and that boy said without a doubt.

Jose let Natsu stay above deck for an hour, watching the mob move through the city and the smoke that twisted through the sky as they set fire to things they didn't like.

When the sun set in the dirty grey sky, Jose escorted Natsu back to the hull of the ship. He sat in silence and darkness with a renewed sense of self. His time was no longer unbroken agony. He was able to keep track of the waves pounding against the ship and the footsteps overhead. The voices in the distance. The mob that gathered in the West had moved its way through the city. They were furious; the sound of their voices beat against the water and the water carried it offshore to Natsu's waiting ear.

He wasn't sure when, exactly, he was positive something was wrong. It was just a feeling he had, deep-seated in his bones.

Dull early-morning light filtered into the hull as someone pulled open the door. Natsu struggled to see in the gloom. He recognized Jose by his overpowering cologne.

Natsu had been slumped against a sack of grain, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. He pushed himself into a sitting position. "What is it?" His voice was rough from disuse.

"I just received word; the king's party did not make it back to the castle." Jose's words were clinical and so was his voice. "His Majesty the King was struck down in the street."