Still don't own Mashima's Fairy Tail or Desna's Pradeshes. Or anything else for that matter. I rent.
Reviews are always welcome and make me feel pretty. Enjoy.
Lucy took a deep breath, feeling Cristoff's support, love, and concern pulse through their bond. Her long golden hair in a high ponytail, she pulled the leather strap of the bracer on her left forearm. Her soft curves were clad in skin-tight leather magically enhanced to keep her safe in the upcoming battle. A small smile passed her lips as she thought of her Edolas counterpart and her penchant for a skintight bodysuit, which the mage had used as inspiration for the light armor she wore.
Lucy swung her arms, the leather stretched over them starting at her mid-bicep and tightened the laces running to her wrist. Her fingers brushed the whip on her hip. She took another deep breath pushing back through the bond, all her love, all her worry. The leather felt like butter on her skin, well worn, though she had only had it for a few months. Her time in the White Sea had taught her that taking jobs there meant protecting oneself from dark magic and the leather seemed to be not only the best option but also the style chosen by even the most seasoned guild members.
Cristoff crossed the room to reassure his mate. He sighed at the sight of her, placing his large hands on her round hips and sliding them around her, pressing her to his chest. "We have the numbers," he purred, dipping his mouth to her ear. "We have a plan in place. And by the end of the night, we'll have Zen and Peregrande will be on its knees." He nuzzled her neck and placed a light kiss on her pulse point, Lucy leaning into him, feeling his calm wash over her. She was truly blessed by the stars to have found a mate that balanced her worry with his confidence.
"I know." The words fell off her lips and he knew she was feeling better. The mating bond was all about balance. And he had found his. "They should be ready for us," she leaned her cheek into his own.
"Report to your posts." The silken baritone of Kaleb commanded almost as if on cue, driving a sigh from Lucy's lips as she squared her shoulders. She needed to focus. Turning in his arms, Lucy faced her mate and slanted her lips over his. The cool mint taste of his lips on hers brought a small hum from her. She broke their kiss begrudgingly and pulled out of his arms. They needed to get to the deck and she wasn't going to go if they didn't.
Threading her fingers into his, she pulled him through the door, Freed stepping to their sides. He looked at the couple and nodded. He was ready. The three mages that made up Team A emerged onto the deck and received a nod from Kaleb. Lucy felt the back of Cristoff's fingers trail down her upper arm as she watched the rest of the teams form on the deck. They were all there, all looking determined, focused, and ready. They had one shot at this. The element of surprise only worked once.
"You know what you're all doing," Kaleb commanded the attention of the teams aloud. "Keep to the plan and make things quick. We need the Dark Eagle above all else." The teams murmured their agreement. "Wait for my command." They nodded again. Anxiety was starting to well inside of Lucy's chest, bubbling slowly, taking all of her efforts not to let her breath change or let it slip through the bond. She didn't need to worry Cristoff or make him think he needed to be protective. Well more so than normal.
"Fucker's dead. We're going to sweep the palace." Vander's voice rang through their minds followed by a dark chuckle. Kaleb's lavender eyes slid over the teams. "Meet them at Skyreach when you're finished." No response came, leaving Kaleb to assume that Vander and Preseca were otherwise engaged already.
"Team A." Kaleb nodded. They were going to raze the city, get their brother back, and take a savage civilization to its knees. Cristoff and Lucy crouched, taking a prepared knee. Freed, his crouch a second behind the mated pair, followed suit and rested his hand on Cristoff's shoulder, not allowing the man's muscle moving beneath it to provide a distraction as it normally would have. In a whisp of mint and the faint glow of moonlight, the three mages were on the street in front of the colosseum. Taking in their surroundings, they heard the crowd roar. Lucy's eyes darkened in anger, pulsing the emotion through the bond. "Calm, love," she heard Cristoff breath in her ear. She pushed the anger away, letting its smoldering fuel her need to succeed in the mission.
Freed was the first to rise, drawing his rapier and setting runes to protect them from anyone that would attempt to stop them from gaining entry. He began his work on creating a vulnerability in the runes protecting the building. A small smirk tilted on his mouth. "That was easier than expected," he muttered, gesturing to his comrades. He knew his position on Team A's purpose. Disarm the building, shred the defenses and leave it vulnerable to Team D. He set about disarming the rest of the protective runes as Lucy and Cristoff slipped into the tear he had created.
They were met by opulence. The grand foyer of the colosseum boasted a marble floor, staircase, and pillars, gold laced into every fixture. The lacrima light created an elegant and ethereal glow. The low heel on Lucy's over-the-knee leather boots echoed on the marble as they entered and the crowd let loose another mind-numbing roar.
Then she felt it, like a metal cable from her chest tugging on her very soul. She knew what it meant. Lightly touching Cristoff's forearm to gain his attention, she nodded to an alcove to their right. Staying to the shadows created by the pillars, she moved toward the alcove, not sure what was waiting, but feeling the tug in her chest and her mate acknowledging and following her through their bond. They stepped out of the main atrium and into a stone corridor, with significantly lower ceilings and a far less polished aesthetic. They were moving toward the pits.
Lucy's fingertips rested on the handle of her whip, each step calculated. In thirty yards, the hallway ended at a stone spiral staircase leading down. Hurrying down them, Lucy and Cristoff gasped as they took in the sight at the bottom of them. The stairway opened to the pair, revealing a large open room, with cell blocks three stories high. These were the pits, rows, and rows of cages, cells, lining the walls of a massive underground prison that surrounded a courtyard of bathing stalls, a training ring, and an array of areas one could only assume were designed for public punishment.
Attendants caught sight of them and gasped, some cowering, some taking up weapons out of the training, three of them rushing to the mated pair. With a wave of his hand, Cristoff put them to sleep as Lucy unfurled her whip.
Her breath hitched in her chest. Lucy felt the cable in her chest tighten and pull her harder than ever. "He's close," she said to her mate, looking down the cell blocks and up to the second floor. "Virgo, Gemini," she whispered, pulling the keys out of the Requip space in which they lived. "Free every slave, take everyone to the surface." The pink-haired maid nodded and grinned her wicked grin. "Piri, Piri!" Gemini answered and took on Vander's form, causing Cristoff to smirk. He was certain would never stop marveling at how clever Gemini was with who they duplicated.
"Let's find him," Cristoff breathed. Lucy ran up the nearest staircase to the second floor, her ship in her hand as she struck down three very pompous looking men, stepping over them without slowing down. Placing his palms over them as they passed them, he muttered the command to sleep, his targets dropping into a slumber immediately. Releasing a healing mist from his palms, the second floor was flooded with a light scent of mint he pushed it into the cells as they walked past.
Lucy's body suddenly throbbed in one finite pulse as she passed a heavy iron cell door. Stopping at the throb, she snapped her head around to look inside the dark room. "Here," she said as she grimaced. The tug in her body and pulse coursed through her again, creating a borderline painful feeling. Her mind raced as she tried to think about where a key might be or what spirit could best open the door. There was Taurus, who would tear it down, Loke who could - her jaw slacked.
Cristoff felt his mate's mind whirring and spinning, solving the problem she perceived. A locked door. It was one of the sexiest things about her and he relished the feeling. But he could feel the defeat that hung in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. The people were beaten down, demoralized, and their wills weakened. He reached for the handle of the door and pulled. Just as he had thought.
There probably wasn't a locked door in the building.
He glowered, the fact that he was right only angering him more. A soft growl slipped from his throat as the door swung open. The sight inside the door pissed him off to his very core. This was his family. And this is what he had been reduced to.
A/N:
Holy moly, thanks to everyone that has read this. Sorry it's taken so long to get this up. I wound up writing this and the next chapter in pretty much one sitting in an attempt to keep shit straight. So chapters 3 and 4 were split for reading and editing sake.
Ooff. Battle might not be my foray. Not going to lie.
That being said, I'm just editing and putting final touches on Chapter 4: Onslaught. As soon as it's done, I'll get it up.
Thanks to Laxlu, rmadhumita378, and Dragonfly2311 for the encouraging reviews. Reviews make it easier and easier to come back to writing this even when I'm getting fraudy feelings and creative/insecure stuff. Y'all know what I mean I'm sure. 3.