JUVIA ADMIRED the capital city of Fiore rising against the purple sky as she looked over Gray's head, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting the sweat-stained smell of him remind her of a time when she thought that this beauty was what she wanted. His hair was soft against her cheek, the skin of his neck hot and almost searing. The air was filled, inexplicably, with sweetness.

"So this is why it's called Crocus," said Juvia, attempting to get him to speak up, before a nasty cavity in the ground surprised his black stallion Nightfell and rocked the both of them apart. Gray grunted as she tightened her hold around his torso. Wincing, she continued valiantly, "The colors are like the flower. It smells like one, too."

"It's like magic, isn't it?" Gray said a few moments later, a beat too late, with a note of pride in his voice. Juvia nodded, knowing that he hadn't asked to get an actual answer. She'd never seen him so proud of a place before. He was never one to have tethered himself to something so tangible as soil. But then again, he had been young.

She angled her face to peer up at him and he looked down to catch her eye at the same time. She almost flushed. He smiled, and said, "Because it is. They use magic to spread perfumes in the air. It's what Crocus is famous for."

Juvia stayed silent. Did he remember that she loved the vials of Crocus perfume they had discovered in a trading wagon as kids? So much that she had pocketed one herself, sleight of hand coming easy to her with the help of her magic. Her first signs of a criminal inclination. She hadn't told him that she'd done it and he didn't question her when she would sometimes unstopper the vial at night or whenever their stomachs were so empty they found it difficult to speak, savoring the promise of better days. Of the sun and flower fields. Juvia closed her eyes briefly. If she concentrated, Crocus smelled just like it.

"Are we almost there?"

"Nearly," Gray answered. He patted her hand where it was resting on his abdomen, almost clumsily, his touch lingering in a gesture of comfort. "I'm… it was stupid of me to have only brought one horse, Juvia. I didn't think—"

"It's fine," Juvia said. They had ridden together for five days after Gray realized his mistake, pressed together on the back of Nightfell during the day and curled up next to the horse at night. They shared the single wool blanket Gray bought with him to the City by the Sea and slept as closely as they were able to for more warmth just like they used to. Worst of all, their conversations were few and stilting, none of them knowing exactly how to break the unfamiliarity that came from being separated by years and the familiarity of being inescapably tied together all the same.

It seemed silly to her that Gray would bring it up now when they'd almost come to accept the rhythm of being with each other again. Juvia softened the press of her palm on his belly. She couldn't feel the scar through his shirt, but she knew the sensation of his raised skin. She could trace the shape of it now if she didn't think Gray would stiffen and avoid her eyes for days afterward. Guilty for nothing. It was Juvia that needed to repent, to apologize.

She had hoped, belatedly, that they would have more time on the road by themselves, but what she had first thought was a good distance away took a shorter time to cross. Before Juvia knew it, the large walls of the city cast a monstrous shadow over them as they approached the gates under moonlight. A duo of guards stood sentinel on each side of the entrance, their whole face hidden by helmets except for a sharp slit at the eyes. Despite the summer heat still only at the cusp of retreating for the evening, Juvia felt chilled. She didn't take kindly to faceless authorities.

"Halt! Who seeks entrance to Crocus?" said one of the guards on the right side, his hand reaching for the hilt of a sword at his belt. The others, Juvia noticed up the wall, followed suit in preparation, their stance shifting to the offensive.

Gray slowed Nightfell to a gallop, turning him to the side for an abrupt pause. "I'm a citizen, returning from travel with a friend. She's here with me."

The guard who spoke strode forward. "Where are your travel papers?"

Gray reached around her for the satchel hanging at Nightfell's back, rummaging through the bare necessities he'd carried with him to retrieve a stack of papers. He offered it to the guard, who took it to skim the contents and rifle through the documents with routine diligence. Juvia wondered how he could read in this light. When he looked up, Juvia could see in his eyes a sudden, newfound respect.

"Sir Gray Fullbuster, a knight of the Spring Palace Guards," he said, clearing his throat. "Good evening to you, my lord. And to your companion…" He glanced at the papers again. "A Miss… Juvia Lockser? From Hargeon?"

"The City by the Sea," Juvia corrected him. "The port-city a few miles west of Hargeon."

"Ah," said the guard, but she could tell he did not care. He handed the papers back to Gray, satisfied. "I trust it was a lovely journey to Crocus?"

Juvia smiled at him sweetly, knowing that underneath his helmet he would blush despite his earlier indifference. Her face was the kind of pretty that ached. "Sir Fullbuster made it worth the while."

Gray tensed against her, and she let herself enjoy his discomfort momentarily before he relaxed his shoulders. She bit her lip, disappointed. And then, trying to convince a stubborn, louder part of her, she told herself she shouldn't have said it. She was not that monster anymore.

"We better go," said Gray, readying Nightfell. The guard stepped back. "It's been a long day."

"Of course, my lord," the guard said, nodding. He looked up towards the parapets and called, "all clear for admission!"

Immediately, the great gates squeaked and lifted from the ground as someone inside the massive wall worked to raise the portcullis. The guard returned to his post and inclined his head to Gray one last time before straightening and looking ahead like a statue. In the dark, they almost looked like shadows.

"Thanks," Gray said before kicking Nightfell into a canter and steering him into the large alcove tunneling through the wall to reveal the great city. It was odd, she thought, to have such a slow security for a large city.

She had meant to ask, since she was never one to let an oddity pass, but then—.

All around Juvia, the noise climbed higher like a fire catching in the middle of a forest. People walked alone and in pairs or crowds, the wide path closed over by rows and rows of buildings that looked like they had been stacked against each other to fight for space. Wires crisscrossed above them, holding lanterns and wet clothing. Despite the hour, kids ran across the streets, chasing stray dogs and tumbling after each other. One mother called after them, admonishing. Black puddles bled through the cobblestone, mixing with the clear water pooling on the ground from what smelled like recent rain. To Juvia, there was nothing lovelier than this sight: the place was golden, lit from within, and it was so human. Stands were set up from every other block, wafting the scent of grilled meat and the occasional seafood delicacy, with vendors calling for people to take a look at their wares, and rows and rows of plants and fruits and flowers. Flyers and sheets flew in the air in a barrage of colors. A man yelled, "Best smell in the market! Get the Scarlet scent! Cheaper the price!"

The city was alive. Juvia craned her neck, taking it all in. Gray had even slowed Nightfell to let her. "It's…" She paused. She had no words for it. It was a place of warmth, and if Juvia had any doubts that Gray should be here when it was a place without her, she had banished them. Already she understood why Gray would choose to live here instead of the cold North, or even the rain-soaked Harbor, which she had told him was her destination long ago.

And deep down, underneath her wonderment, she was inexplicably sad.

Gray chuckled. "Speechless?"

She smiled, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder as she stared up at the sky. Surprisingly, there were no visible stars. "It's nothing like Hargeon. Juvia understands why the guards had been so dismissive. Who would care about a little port-city when you lived like this?"

"Were they rude to you?" She could hear his deep frown. "I didn't notice. I could—"

"No," Juvia said, patting his middle. "They wouldn't dare in front of the great Sir Gray Fullbuster. Juvia saw. They worshipped you."

"It wasn't like that," Gray said. "They respected me. I told you I'm a Spring Knight now."

"A knight of flowers," Juvia said, laughing. Her dark, cold-hearted boy? "Who would've thought you'd rise so high?" Juvia, she thought. Say Juvia.

"Have you so little faith?" Gray smirked.

Juvia softened. "You have all of it. Otherwise Juvia wouldn't have left all she has in the City by the Sea to come here, even when you have told her nothing."

"I'm sorry." Gray shifted on his seat. "I couldn't tell you myself. It had to be with Natsu and the others."

"Because you don't trust Juvia?" She said, voicing out her greatest fear. Gray frowned. "But you need her."

"I trust you," he replied immediately, vehemently, taking her hand in his. She tucked her hand out of his grasp and was sorry to see him flinch. Sorry that she'd deprived herself of his touch, but better for it. He shook his head. "You're my oldest friend… but I can't tell you by myself. It isn't my—it's complicated."

Juvia hated that she felt like a little girl when she was with him. Like she'd just washed up on the rocky shore, dreaming and hungry and hopeful. Just days ago she'd sent a murdered merchant's daughter to the sea for Amirai Sinaya to claim and for her gang-master to feast on the jewels. She was a servant of power and money. And now she was in the middle of a city that was too hot for her North-born and sea-raised skin. Her thick clothes were sticky and uncomfortable from the high temperature and a whole day of riding astride a slender horse with Gray. He had told her straight up that she would get little money from the job he had for her, if there was any, which should've been the only reason for her to refuse him. He'd said it would be dangerous.

During the first night, only breaths away from each other, he even told her before he succumbed to sleep, "It might even be impossible."

And she looked at him and was so sure that he was tricking her. Mocking her. Impossible. She was so close to him, he only needed to touch her. "Nothing is impossible."

When he had looked at her that day on the port at the edge of a narrow fjord, she remembered being helpless in such a cold, foreign place and then, more sharply, being dragged by him into a cradle of warmth. All the days he spent carrying her and hunting emaciated rabbits for them both, surviving in caves. Juvia didn't die alone because he saved her. It shouldn't have been possible. She owed him a blood debt. It was the foundation of their friendship.

They wove deeper into the city, like blood rushing into the heart. Gray passed through the crowded streets and darkened passageways, the busy markets, and a towering ancient cathedral, which should've marked the heart of Crocus. The bells rang just as they turned their back to it, journeying on. Despite the discordant notes, Nightfell was calmer by then and his gait was almost gentle, as if he too was being lulled into the safety of the suddenly quieting district. It made Juvia feel worn-out and heavy. The lanes were still littered with people and stores, but the houses were spaced farther apart, as if able to breathe, and the road was narrower and smooth. Instead of the busy stands, there were big-windowed shops, displaying a variety of goods and discounts. A castle was so close Juvia could see the ivy inching up its walls and make out the people walking by the large windows.

"We have to get down," Gray said, jarring her daydreams. "There's a horse-master here. He takes Nightfell for the evenings."

He slid off Nightfell first, stumbling on his landing. Juvia snorted involuntarily and she brought her palm up to her mouth to muffle the sound, realizing how tired he must've been to allow that misstep. Gray glared up at her, chagrined and embarrassed, before reaching out his hands to her hips and helping her down.

"Encouraging," he said. "You can say thank you, ya know."

She grinned at him. "Thank you, good Sir of Meadows!"

"Don't mock me," he grumbled, leading Nightfell away by the reins. Juvia watched Nightfell disappear into the stable, bigger than any she'd seen in the City by the Sea, before Gray emerged, cloaked in the night, strangely smaller and lonelier without his warhorse.

"Come on," he said, and she followed.

They walked the pathways silently. Juvia was tired and her legs, goddesses forbid, felt weak and unreliable. It was a far cry from her childhood pains, but it was enough to make her anxious. She could tell Gray was exhausted from the trip as well, but his face had grown drawn and solemn, stride unrelenting. They'd grown so much. Older and apart. It used to be that he matched his steps with hers, mindful that sometimes it would be a challenge for her. Juvia pushed herself to keep up with his frantic pace, burying the fear rising up her throat, and almost cried when she smelled it.

"We're here," Gray said, almost relaxing again. But Juvia barely noticed.

Bread. The intoxicating scent of baking. It was a few shops away, tucked in the middle of two bigger shops like a lost cottage. At the front of it was a large window that showed off a three-tiered cake, dripping in chocolate, and smaller strawberry shortcakes gathered around it. A row of pink and white macarons lined the bottom of the window, and two jars of dark cookies rose like little turrets behind them. Juvia stepped closer, eager and interested.

But her joy was short-lived.

Gray grabbed her by the arm. "Juvia," he said urgently, with an unmistakable silent apology, tugging her to face away from the bakery of her childhood dreams.

A girl was running towards them from the direction that they'd come from themselves, shouting with her shrill, high voice regardless of the people still loitering out in the night, squawking at her. "Gray! Gray, help! Oh my gods, you have to come now!"

Despite their bone-deep exhaustion, Gray and Juvia sprang forward to meet her without a second thought. The girl crashed into Gray, breathing heavily as Gray helped her up and pushed her away to look at her properly, hands gripping her arms.

"What happened?" He asked, searching her bruised face. "Where's Natsu?"

Juvia wanted to look away from his hold on her, but she had to listen. To know. So she could help because it was what Gray asked of her, she reminded herself. It was painful to watch this beautiful girl look to Gray like he was also her hero, her rescuer. Did she know him when he was small and skinny and insufferable? When he only had a single threadbare shirt for winter?

The girl took a deep breath, her big brown eyes filling up with tears. "He's at the Arena. They've all teamed up against him! I tried to help but I knew—"

"We have to go," Juvia said, sensing her urgency. If she said it because she wanted the girl to stop talking and looking at Gray like that, then it was her business and not anyone else's.

Gray nodded. "Lead the way, Lucy."

The girl seemed only to notice Juvia for the first time, surprised, but fortunately she didn't dwell on her presence. Instead, she bobbed her head and ran back to the alleyways, navigating the dark path like she was born to it. Like a rat, Juvia thought, contempt creeping in. But Juvia knew it wasn't right. The girl's silky blond hair was long and sweet-smelling, leaving a vague flowery scent behind her as she headed the front of their trio. It was an expensive smell on expensive hair. So she was a rich little noble girl, playing at rags. Was that how she met Gray? Did the delicate little princess run away from home? Anitana Tabeya, give her patience, because if she had the strength she'd have jumped the girl.

"My name is Lucy," the girl told Juvia hurriedly. Her smile stretched against the scratches on her face. "This is a pretty bad time, but it's great to meet you!"

Juvia looked at her from head to toe. "Juvia," she offered.

Lucy blinked. "Oh, you're Gray's—"

"Lucy," Gray said sharply. "Get us in."

They had arrived at an inconspicuously massive cellar door jammed behind what Juvia could tell was a popular tavern. Down the narrow cobblestone path in front of them opening to a sparkling street, men roughhoused in clusters of drunken laughter. The air was sour with their mangled, mainland curses, so soft compared to the conversations Juvia was used to at the pubs near the Harbor. Lucy bent down the wooden doors and knocked a catchy rhythm: taps alternating in tone with the knuckles of her fingers. Juvia committed it to memory just in case she needed it.

There were sounds of clinking metal—a latch unbolting. The doors shook as someone pushed and pushed from the inside until it broke open like an egg, revealing a man with the broadest shoulders Juvia had ever seen. His face was a mean-looking thing, the sockets of his eyes digging harshly into his skin and a scar slashing from his bottom eye to his ear. Behind him came inhuman noises of cheering and grunts. The smell was worse: an undercurrent of blood amid perspiration.

When he saw Lucy, he growled. "I said you couldn't come back if you left!"

Lucy held on to his arm, pleading. "Please, Elfman! I had to get help for Natsu."

"The Salamander doesn't need any help! He brought this on himself," said Elfman, stepping down to close the doors. "It's time he manned up and took it."

Lucy almost shrieked, thumping her fists on his boulder-like biceps. "He's going to die! Don't let him do this!"

She whirled around to look at Gray and Juvia, pleading, as she hung on to the beast of a man like she could take him. Juvia appreciated her audacity.

"Let her in," said Juvia, stepping into the orange light emanating from the cellar. The man appraised her, clearly seeing what she was: a pale girl with delicate wrists. A magician's mark on her thigh, peeking from the slit of her coat. "Juvia doesn't think you have any need for rules in this place."

"No magic allowed here," Elfman said, spitting at her feet. "The fighters abstain."

"Watch your tone," said Gray, stepping in front of Juvia. He unsheathed his sword halfway from his belt. "Or I will skewer you. Now stop aside before I come back here with the force of the Fiore army at my back."

Elfman's eyes narrowed. "Palace scum. You aren't man enough to take me on by yourself!"

"Elfman, don't do this!" Lucy said. "I thought Natsu and I were your friends!"

"Dear Lucy," Elfman said, sighing. "Mirajane and Lisanna will kill me for doing this to you, but Natsu provoked all the brawlers. It's a matter of pride that they fight him. He's even accepted the challenge. Rules are rules."

Elfman swept his gaze over Gray and Juvia. "You two can come in. But palace scum, watch your mouth."

"Elfman!" Lucy begged.

Juvia ducked inside, descending a step behind Elfman. "Oh, and better watch her back too," the man continued to tell Gray snidely. Juvia clenched her fists.

"Why can't Lucy come with us?" Gray asked. Juvia glanced at him from over her shoulder, seeing that he had refused to move. Frustrated, Juvia beckoned from him to come inside.

"We are in a hurry," Juvia said. The Natsu boy was probably dead by now.

"You're either in or out," Elfman said. "Only one chance for a night."

Juvia took a deep breath and reached into her pockets, fishing for coins. "How much does Juvia have to give for Big Man to break the rules?"

Elfman turned to her, surprised. "How much do you have?"

She dumped the gold coins on his waiting palm. Her payment from the murdered girl's rich father. Elfman scrutinized the pitiful pile they made, making a face. "It's just one girl," said Juvia.

Elfman stepped back to make room for Gray and Lucy grudgingly. "The Salamander's in the ring," said Elfman unnecessarily.

Lucy jumped in, trapping Juvia in her arms. "Thank you!"

She pushed the girl away, noticing the flash of a magician's mark on the back of her palm. "No, you owe Juvia."

Lucy rushed into the chamber as Gray and Juvia wandered after her, straining through a rowdy circle of half-naked, bandaged men and women gathered in the middle of the room, shouting "get him!", "let 'im have it!", "save some for me!". Against the corners were tables with abandoned jugs of alcohol. lies hovered over chunks of rare meat on chipped plates, some of its blood sloshed to the side and dripping with the booze into the uneven ground of the cellar. Juvia wrinkled her nose. A man was moaning on one of the chairs, beaten black and blue. On his exposed collarbone was a prominent scar ripping across a magician's mark. She despised underground fight rings. It was an uninspiring way to make money, especially when you had magic. No subtlety. No cunning. Just raw power and blood.

Lucy shrieked once she finally fought themselves past the crowd. "Natsu, you asshole! Get down already!"

Juvia heard Gray's choked down groan and followed his line of sight distractedly, tilting her head up to have a look at the violence. People were shouting at a raised platform where a startling number of fighters were taking their chance at a small wall of flames. A lithe body hiding under a hood had jumped on the back of a tall, hulking man to charge into the ring of fire and tackle the young man roaring at the center of the heat, taunting. But the target fought the body off, flipping them to the ground and tumbling out of their hold.

"What is he doing?" Gray said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt. "Natsu, stop!"

"Is that all you've got?" The idiot that must've been Natsu snarled, a spark of flame from his hands eating up to his elbows. He was breathing deeply, a trickle of blood dribbling down from his pink head of hair. His one eye was the only eye that was open, while the other was puffed up and blackened, barely a slit on his face like the gate guard's helmet. Juvia could see that he was leaning all his weight on his right leg, and a majority of the blood splattered throughout the rest of his body probably came from the gash sweeping across his bare stomach.

"That is a lot of blood," Juvia said, raising herself up to the platform. "Juvia thought magic wasn't allowed."

"What are you doing, bitch?" Someone from behind her yelled, yanking at her leg. Juvia kicked him.

"Say that again," Gray said, and Juvia heard him aim a threatening kick at the poor man as well before he hoisted himself up the arena with her.

Juvia leaped at the first brawler she saw, arcing in the air with the help of his shoulders to land in front of him and aim a knee at his groin. He doubled down, groaning, and she rolled away to shoot spikes of water at him, aiming for his wrists and ankles—"Ice," she shouted, and from the corner of her eye she saw Gray pivot and throw up his hand towards her without hesitation as he hit a woman's knee with the flat of his sword. He was so graceful, it was like a dance to him. Below Juvia, the water materialized into haphazard shafts of crystals trapping the man's limbs.

"Juvia," Gray called. Juvia spritzed the woman he took down and Gray glued her to the ground with ice once more. They moved as one, trapping the rest of the fighters in blocks of frozen water as they neared Natsu's flames. It was exhilarating. It was all she ever knew: the temperature had dropped low enough that she could feel her sweat drying with the cold. Gray's ice was her childhood, her home.

But it couldn't withstand the heat coming from the Salamander.

"Kill it," Juvia screamed at Natsu as the hooded figure he'd beaten—a tall girl with cat eyes—grabbed Juvia by the hair and slashed at her with a dagger, grazing her arm. "Put the fire down!" The rip of her favorite coat stung her more than the surprise of being nicked.

Oh, but she had been too distracted. She felt her blood trickle down her elbow. Saw the hooded girl's eyes widen. "What kind of—"

Juvia kicked her in the chest, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her laying on the floor without encasing her in ice. Though the cut across her skin was deep, it was no matter to Juvia—except. Her blood. She put a hand to keep the gash from spreading.

Even in her panic, she felt him before she saw him. The man aimed a kick at her back, forcing her to her knees.

"Juvia!" She could hear Gray's anger, palpable even with the noise of the crowd. Cheering, calling out for her defeat and her success. They thought it was a show. Could they see her bleed?

"Juvia is fine!" She said, struggling to get up. Gray had already charged at the man who'd attacked her.

She breathed in— gritting her teeth to distract herself from the pain— before she aimed her single working hand at Natsu and summoned a tunnel of water that went flying at him and his fire.

It was enough to douse all of it out, sizzling as it met the heat. The remaining fighters jumped back from the steaming boy, stupefied, but Juvia rushed towards him and the cover of the fog, kneeling over the puddle she'd created. She could hear Natsu faintly sobbing and the crowd roaring for more.

"Natsu, it's enough! They've had enough!" Lucy rushed past Juvia. "I told them you surrender."

"I don't," he coughed out, his voice raspy and righteous. "Never."

"Swallow your pride for once, asshole."

Relieved, Juvia gathered up the water to her cut and splashed her blood away until it was clean enough. Then she ripped a tie off her skirt and tied it around her arm, hands shaking and weak. She sent a prayer to Anitana Tabeya, willing the rain goddess to heal the cut faster. She was so far from the ocean. And it had been a long day. A long five days of being back with Gray and her childhood fears. She wished he wanted her more than he needed her. Wished that they had never met. Wished, wished, wished.

"Juvia, are you okay?" Gray said, the echo of her name on his lips seemingly worlds away from her. But she let her body give in to the fatigue, knowing that she could count on him to catch her at least.