IN HER DREAMS, she was always with him. The ocean was an unforgiving monster at her back, always demanding, always seeking. But Gray was a gentle shore in a storm.
Of course she should've known then that these were not the kind of people who half-assed things, or took no for an answer— her Gray included. When they were kids, he would sometimes stare hard at the distance, fists whitening from the force of it, as if he could conjure up a possibility that satisfied him even as they hadn't gotten to scrounging up food for the night. They were skin and bones and want, both of them, subsisting on their own will to survive the night. One child wanted to conquer, and another wanted death. Sometimes it was unclear which one they were.
Juvia surveyed Gray's little home, ramshackle and messy, and the table that beheld in front of her plans upon plans of pure madness. "It will take months," she pointed out to the tense room. Juvia doesn't have months, she wanted to say. Her keeper had allowed this one thing— a vacation of a sort —because in all the years Juvia had served him, she hadn't thought to leave. But Master Jose, for he was a master with how much money she owed him, wouldn't take kindly to her drawn-out disappearance.
The idiot Natsu was slumped over Gray's bed, still recuperating from two nights previous. Lucy orbited around him, fussing over all of them because she was the only one left completely unscathed. Juvia herself had been bedridden until that morning, fleeting in and out of consciousness on that very bed, with Gray sleeping on the floor beside her. The cut had been deadly, which had at first surprised her… until she'd felt the bite of poison and understood. Juvia's body struggled to sew itself back together as it expelled the killing thing eating away at her humanity.
In between healing, what kept her together was her blinding anger. How dare that girl do this and get away with it? Juvia was going to find her. Juvia was going to find her, skin her alive, and salt the wounds.
She was so afraid that the cursed knife would undo it.
Could a simple wound catapult her body back to its monstrosity out of sheer preservation, sheer desperation? But Gray had waited on her, as if reading her mind, staying up late to check her progress, reassuring her that her body was fine, it was fine, and it was almost sweet— just like when they were children. She almost didn't want it to end.
Now he watched her with sharp eyes across the table. "Will that be a problem?" He said, lingering at the end, almost guiltily. Problem, she repeated to herself. Yes, it was a problem. Gray hadn't said so back at the Harbor, of course, which was like him. She looked to Lucy, who was wringing her hands in anticipation of Juvia's answer. Gray had asked her to come, and she'd thought it would only be for weeks. Weeks of slow torture, and then cold reprieve at last. Finally, finally: they would be separated for the final time because she'd fulfilled her blood debt.
She hadn't expected him to be so bold. He was asking her to give up months for him. Maybe a year. All for some mad plan to save a Princess who'd willingly surrendered herself to be a virgin sacrifice. And more… he'd hidden one thing from Lucy and Natsu in the asking. There was no way she would refuse. He had to know. Juvia held his stare.
It was unfair, she thought suddenly. It was unfair that he would never ask her to give and give when she was offering all of her up to him like a gift. Was she such a burden? It was unfair that, even now, he expected her to protest. Wanted her to question him. To prove that there was a limit to his hold on her.
Her devotion was not so weak. "Juvia will do as you ask," she said, watching him flinch. If he wanted to relieve himself of their bargain, Juvia thought, then he should do it. But she will not be the one to give up.
Later that day he cornered her as she was making tea. She knew he'd begged a break off Lucy, who was relentless in finishing their preparation to make up for Natsu's own incapacity. Juvia had a feeling that both peasant and princess wanted her to contribute, but she sat rigidly through the whole afternoon as they caught her up their genius solution to infiltrate the deadliest group of people this side of the New Sea. It was crazy, unrealistic, and suicidal. But she wasn't going to be the voice of reason.
"Juvia," he sighed, and he'd always said her name like that. As if it was a chore to get through. "Listen, you don't have to come. I—I know I asked, but I was so stupid to forget about how long it would take. I won't make you stay. You could go—"
"But Gray-sama is lying." She allowed a smile. "You need Juvia to come. You traveled ten days to get me from the City by the Sea. If it were so easy to refuse, so easy to do it without Juvia, then you would never have asked for me." You'd never have come otherwise. You'd never have thought to look back and remember Juvia.
He looked away. She wondered if he tallied up his excuses in his head: too stupid to bring another horse, too stupid to bring an extra blanket, too stupid to remember that their death wish would require precious time, too stupid to tell her to fuck off the way he did everyone else. Juvia watched him swallow. "I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do this."
"You aren't." Where once she would have been cut up about his indecision, now it was almost amusing how righteous he was about using her. What else would their relationship be— if he said he didn't love her, yet needed her in the same breath? But if he wanted absolution, she would give it to him. He could lie to himself, he could lay awake at night contemplating his black heart, but to Juvia he would always be the knight he'd grown up to become. Reality had just caught up.
He took her hands, gently, because he was always gentle with her, and Juvia held her breath. "I mean it," he said. And oh, she wished she could hate him. She wished she wasn't so happy at that moment that she could open her mouth and deny him. But everything, everything she was, it was because of her love for him. "The Dead Kingdom will eat us alive… but I was so focused on coming up with a solution— which was to get you, I guess, I'm sorry —that I didn't think how it would impact… you."
It was typical of Gray to think of Juvia as such an extension of himself that he hadn't bothered to consider her own life, but Juvia didn't mind. It was what she'd encouraged in him.
"It's risky," Juvia admitted. "But if you thought that Juvia could do it, then you're right. Give me a ship. Sail it to the Dread Sea. And Juvia will help you cross it."
"I'm sorry you have to go back," Gray said, letting go of her hand.
She didn't point out that he wasn't sorry enough to stop her. Instead, she said, "what's so important about Erza Scarlet?"
His eyes flashed, and she got the feeling that he didn't take kindly to her tone. "She's the Fiore princess," he explained, trying to see if that was enough for her. Juvia waited. "She's the princess, and we—well, you could say that after I left you, and I came here, and I met her, that we grew up together. She wasn't the kind of princess you read about when we were kids, Juvia. She wanted to fight, to lead. Erza had been training under Makarov—the master of arms at the castle— even before I came here, so when he apprenticed me, well, it was only natural that I'd follow her."
With each word, his vehemence grew, until at the end there was nothing left but his determined gaze, challenging her to question his devotion. It was only natural that he'd follow her. Juvia's mouth felt dry, and there was a hollowness to her body that hadn't been there before, and she wanted to take back ever asking. But she'd asked.
We grew up together, too, she thought. Of course Gray would consider the wasteland that was their childhood hell to get through, and not a baptism of fire that engendered a similar suicide mission to get each other back if one was in trouble. While Juvia waited for him at the City by the Sea, hoping he'd realize that he couldn't live without her— that their shared pain was something he could never forget— well, he'd outgrown her. He'd recreated a different childhood, and to spite her it had to be the fairy tales she'd babbled on and on about: here was a lonely boy who wanted to be a knight. Here was his princess, warrior in every way, but a damsel to be rescued by him all the same.
"And Natsu-san? Lucy?" She said, testing her voice.
If he noticed the slight hitch to her tone, he respected her enough not to comment. "Lucy is one of her Ladies-in-Waiting. Natsu is the son of the best blacksmith in Fiore and we met him when we were kids, too, under Makarov. Juvia, you must understand. She only went because she thought it was her duty to Fiore, to keep the Dead off our shores. But they're going to kill her in five months," – and here he looked so vulnerable that she knew if he stopped talking right then, she would still help him – "We want her back."
And me? Juvia wanted to ask. What was Erza Scarlet to Juvia that she would risk going back to the Dread for her? It was a death wish for anyone to want to get into the Dead Kingdom. To Juvia, it was a fate worse than that. The sorcerers of that island had corrupted natural magic to the point that their land had become home to the darkest creatures: satyrs in the forest, sirens infesting the waters, winged basilisks prowling the sky. More. Did Gray understand what he was asking her to do for him?
You overstep, she wanted to say. But then hadn't she always dared him to test her resolve? Here was his final challenge: risk an eternity of hell for me, or go.
"Will you do it?" Lucy said, hovering by the entryway to the kitchen. How much she heard, Juvia didn't care to know. Lucy didn't understand what she was asking Juvia, but Gray did. And if to Gray, he could live with the possibility of killing her, then there was nothing left to say. It'd always been clear that she was Gray's monster anyway.
"How are we going to get a ride?" Juvia said.
They made quick work of packing up the essentials they needed for the road: Juvia, with nothing of value, watched Gray and Lucy debate over what to bring that could, according to them both for the thousandth time without prompting, be useful for the plan. The Plan, which was in Juvia's opinion not much of a plan anyway. Barely the bones of it. Natsu, who also had nothing, returned with a knapsack of clean shirts the morning they were scheduled to leave.
"That's all?" Gray said, disgusted. Juvia hoped he didn't expect Natsu to ponder with sentimentality his threadbare belongings, as Gray had when he concluded that he wouldn't bring his thick white coat.
"Oh, and my cat comes, too," said Natsu self-importantly, waving a hand towards the feline rolling around Gray's front door.
"Is Gray-sama sure we can't leave the village idiot behind?" Juvia said with distaste.
Natsu rolled his eyes good-naturedly, which she found she disliked more than actual contempt. "Says the serial killer of another village." Gray shot him a venomous look from over his shoulder, opening his mouth to berate him. Natsu rushed to cut him off, "Anyway, Happy and I are a package deal."
"Juvia didn't say the cat couldn't come."
"Lucy," said Gray suddenly, ignoring them. "What happened to 'bare essentials'?"
The girl in question was leaning outside the window of a conspicuous carriage ambling towards them, waving, even though she was later than their agreed-upon time. Lucy shrugged at Gray's obvious chagrin. "I only got one horse, didn't I?" Lucy said. It was a giant Magnolian standardbred, with a thick mane, broad shoulders, and nimble-looking feet—the best driving horse in all of Fiore. Juvia knew without knowing that this horse was the winning horse in all the races.
"And besides," she continued as Natsu dumped his sack by her feet and scrambled inside. Juvia, relieved that they wouldn't be riding, slipped in with a betrayed look from Gray. "We need to get to the West-end ports to get the Celeste. Luckily, it isn't as far as Hargeon."
"I'm going to be sick, either way," said Natsu, who was curled against the carriage wall with his eyes screwed shut. "I'd like it to be in a space where a fall doesn't kill me."
"You can't be too sure," Gray grumbled, settling beside Juvia with a huff.
"Are you sure you can sail a schooner, Gray-sama?" Juvia asked, remembering her worry with Lucy's words. The Celeste was a ship under her family name, the Great House of Heartfilia. "It's a bit different from fjord fishing boats."
"We've talked about this," Gray said, annoyed. "The fewer we are, the better. At least we have an available ship."
They did not, in fact, have an available ship.
It took two days of travel to get to Lucy's family trading post, with only a few half-hearted complaints from Lucy herself about sleeping on the ground as they made camp for the night. The West-ends, a flourishing merchant region in the city of Cedar, was a different kind of port city to the one Juvia grew up with. Where the Harbor was a den of gangs, starving fisherfolk, and corrupt families living under a gray sky surrounded by gray seas, the West-ends was a merchant's dream. Cedar was smaller than Hargeon, but wealthier and far lovelier than it could ever be— all with the same corrupt families dressed in nicer clothes. Large buildings loomed with the trade of various luxuries (here, a one-of-a-kind chocolatier, and there, a dressmaker exclusive to noble families) as their carriage trudged along the busy road. Juvia, who hadn't washed since the poison, looked out of the carriage window and felt dirty. She had always thought that if she ever left the Harbor, she would settle down in West-ends. Now she knew that was a lie.
At the docks with Lucy's captain, she tried to ignore the bright sea singing to her blood. Somehow it could sense that she'd been on the brink of death and wanted to remind her of what could be hers. Luckily, Lucy's irritation was an interesting enough distraction.
"What do you mean," Lucy said, not really asking, "my Father told you to turn me away? He doesn't even know I'm here!"
The man, who was old enough that Juvia thought he could do with a retirement after the trouble they were inevitably going to make, shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, my lady. Lord Heartfilia has specifically barred you access to the Celeste."
With gritted teeth, Lucy said, "When was this?"
The old captain bowed his head. "A year ago, my lady."
Lucy seemed to jerk— a sudden lashing out, perhaps, aborted halfway— and Natsu held his hand out to steady her at her elbow. "Luce," he said. "We should go."
"I didn't even do anything yet," Lucy murmured, though Juvia didn't think the girl was disbelieving. "This isn't even about Erza."
Gray turned away first, stalking moodily down the street without so much as an "excuse me" to the people he was passing. Juvia followed the rigid line of his shoulders until they settled down at a pub with none of the dejection Juvia thought they should be feeling.
"Jude Heartfilia has always been an asshole," Natsu told Lucy as he put their drinks down. It was barely past noon, but the stench of ale was unmistakable from each jug like a reckless heralding of what was to come. Gray handed Juvia hers, his dark eyes and the frustrated tic of his jaw betraying the cool way he sipped at his ale.
"What are you going to do?" Juvia said because she wasn't going to delve into their childhood horrors if she could help it. "Without a ship, we can't get to the Dead Kingdom."
"We're getting a ship," said Gray immediately. "If not the Celeste, then something else."
Lucy shook her head, downing her drink— and promptly coughing it up on the table. In between her fits, she choked out, "it will be Celeste."
"Another round of convincing?" Natsu said, patting her back. "I don't think your Father's the type of man to change his mind."
Gray scoffed, drinking harder. Juvia sympathetically patted the arm he had slung over her chair.
"That doesn't matter. Let's think: how do you steal a boat?" Lucy said with meaning, sweeping her eyes over them.
"Ambush," said Gray.
"Direct attack," Natsu countered. "Like pirates."
"Kill the captain and wear his clothes," offered Juvia sensibly.
"What?" Lucy was scandalized. "No, none of that! Look, I know the Celeste's first mate. Levy has been on that ship since she could walk. She's been traveling around the world to study—well, everything. She knows how ships work… and she's much easier to convince than the captain."
"She'll take us?" Juvia said, frowning.
"Oh," Lucy said. "She will."
Their little party watched the Celeste for two more days, lingering around the docks in poorly concealed disguises. They didn't find out much, though they understood several things: the crew changed posts throughout the day, with no clear rotation, as if they didn't care about formal security. What seemed to be important was for the men to keep the schooner peopled at all times, no matter the person, which Lucy chalked up to merchant season needing a steady stream of Heartfilia ships at hand. Celeste was docked offshore, but it was easy enough to note the ropes tying her to the port. There were eight men, at least, excluding the first mate Levy McGarden, a small girl who would retire for a few hours a night at the pub they'd found days before. Juvia thought that the men were easy enough to take care of if Gray and the others were more lenient with their methods. Nevertheless, they had singled out an objective.
On the third morning, Natsu knocked out one of the men in the crew as he was turning an alley. They'd decided on him because he'd—miraculously, thought Juvia— worn a scarf around his face on all the days, and his build, which was the sort of muscular that came with hauling sacks of things all morning and afternoon indiscriminately, was easy enough to replicate with a layer of clothes. His dark blue hair was not quite Gray's, but it wouldn't matter with Gray carefully avoiding the others to "work". At least they were roughly the same height.
"Juvia doesn't like this," she muttered as they dragged the man behind a pack of crates, tied him up, gagged him, then covered his body with one of Lucy's blankets. She'd liked the tattoos on his face and had patted down his body instinctively for the feel of coins. Unfortunately, there was none.
"You're the one who said 'kill the captain'," Lucy grunted, dropping the man's legs like it was a dead animal. "What's this to you?"
She scowled. "Juvia means letting Gray-sama go alone."
"Relax," said Natsu, who was the most agreeable among them about their plan. "Gray's a big boy who can handle himself."
"Shut up," Gray replied, already putting on the man's shoes. He tied the scarf around his head and seemed to half-smile at her, his eyes crinkling. "I'll be back."
Natsu snorted, muttering something under his breath.
That's what you said last time, Juvia wanted to rebut. She willed her face to smoothen out. And six years had gone by before you did, her traitor mind continued.
"Juvia, don't get distracted," Lucy fretted, wringing her hands. It seemed the ridiculousness of this plan had finally caught up to her.
Juvia tilted her chin. "Juvia is never distracted."
"All right," Natsu said. "Let's see about that."
It was hard work to be Natsu and Juvia in their little heist. Though Juvia hated the ocean, it was her element, and the water enveloped her like a lover when she dived in with Natsu. Natsu couldn't swim as well as her— no human could –but he was cautious about wasting her energy. He'd offered to help with pushing the raft they'd gotten from a harried-looking man Lucy had buttered up with her baby browns several ships down. Now his raft was piled with the logs Natsu had gathered, making the thing too heavy to paddle up the Celeste if they wanted speed. It was, however, a pile of wood floating in the ocean. Flotsam, if one didn't look too closely.
"Natsu-san doesn't have to," Juvia said one last time, bobbing next to him with her hand pressed against the wood.
"Nah," said Natsu. "Let's do this!"
It would've been faster with just her, but Natsu would have weighed down the raft too, so she was fine with him swimming next to her. The only problem was that Juvia didn't need to go up for air as much as the other boy, and it was taking all she had to pause for a breath. Let him breathe, she kept reminding herself in intervals. Gajeel, her only companion throughout the recent lonely years, was faster than him by a mile. Still, they'd made it to the back of the Celeste, careful to avoid making any noises that would draw the attention of the heads that sometimes flashed up on the deck. The sky was darkening faster than Lucy had probably anticipated, which made Juvia's heart beat wildly in her chest.
As Juvia expected, Gray had done his part flawlessly. Natsu drew himself up the raft and started tying the logs one by one to the three ropes Gray had suspended from above.
"They better not see this," Natsu muttered, tugging at the rope experimentally. Juvia, who didn't think their luck extended that far, wished the same.
As Natsu worked, she practiced calling to the sea. It was harder than rain, whose droplets yielded to her easily as if they were a part of her. The ocean was an ancient animal and if it called anyone master, it would be the gods. But what was she if not a young god? Juvia closed her eyes and prayed. She imagined Amirai Sinaya opening her bright eyes in the deep sea, her mouth gaping like a whirlpool. You dare ask, it told her.
Juvia molded the waves and it pushed back, sloshing their raft. "Juvia," Natsu said in alarm. "Can't you calm it down?"
"Can you calm a volcanic eruption?" Juvia replied nastily, fatigue creeping in her bones. She'd done most of the heavy lifting with the raft.
"If you don't do this," Natsu said, slipping into the water once more. With great difficulty, he pushed the raft up to tie it with the logs. The fisherman would never see it again, but Lucy had left him enough gold to compensate a thousand more. "G-Gray—" Natsu had swallowed saltwater, Juvia noticed with satisfaction – "might get fucked over!"
It wasn't supposed to trouble her, but it did. She gave up on the ocean and felt the precipitation in the air, which was always there for her. Drawing the water out of the wind, she'd materialized a liquid sheet to coat the side of the boat. "It's done," she told Natsu belatedly, putting all her concentration into maintaining the barrier. Her whole body was of the ocean: her legs, suddenly the most foreign thing about her, paddled below her. Her mind, dedicated to the work. In truth, she could've done it sooner. But being out in the sea had thrilled her, unexpectedly, and she wanted to see if she could command the waves as naturally as she was a child.
Now she knew. Though the ocean was ambivalent towards her, it strained under her grasp.
Juvia was both overjoyed and dismayed.
Up the deck, a familiar flash of eyes caught hers. Gray nodded, once, before disappearing.
"Did you see that?" Natsu said. Juvia released the sheet of water.
"Yes," she said, regretting the action. Her head had begun to hurt. "Are you ready?"
"Put the water back up," Natsu replied. "Swimming while I do it will make things harder, I think."
Julia hoped it didn't. One wrong move and they could destroy the Celeste, and where would they get another ship? She put the sheet back up and readied her mind to summon more just in case it all went wrong.
Natsu's solemn frown felt out of place on his face. But then flames ignited from the wood, sizzling, and his face was washed with an orange glow that perfected him. The logs that he'd put up were spaced cleanly around the side of the schooner, but it was enough fodder for him to manipulate the fire into a large inferno.
In no time, a commotion had erupted from the deck. "What the fuck— Fire! Fire! This thing is on fire!"
And then, Gray's gruff voice styled deeper: "Abandon ship! What - get off me— abandon ship!"
"Juvia," Natsu gritted out. "Make sure… the flames don't reach that ship."
She had no reply for him, too busy making sure herself. Gray's voice above her had strengthened her resolve, but she was getting tired. Each time Natsu's flames came in contact with her water, she had to chip away at it without going all out in fear of losing control and dousing the entire spectacle. The task was an exercise in precision. That, coupled with her quickly tiring legs— she didn't even know what Natsu was feeling— was making her nervous.
"N-Natsu-san," she said. Suddenly the fear that she would die occupied her entire body, and the thought that she might die in the ocean made her dizzy. You dare, Amirai Sinaya whispered in her ear. What came from the sea belonged to the sea. "J—Juvia—"
Natsu snarled, "Hold on!"
"Try putting it out!" One of the men said. Juvia choked as the water that they must've dumped on Natsu's flames hissed.
"It's no use," she heard Gray say. If they didn't jump ship soon, Juvia thought, they might notice the fire always coming short of the deck. They needed to do something. They needed to make it real. "We have to get out!"
"Natsu-san," Juvia said, spitting seawater that had found its way into her mouth. Natsu was breathing heavily, eyebrows twisted into a scowl. "L-Let it in!"
Natsu glanced at her, surprised. "Are you crazy? If I can't control it, we'll char the Celeste!"
She gulped. "Juvia will follow with the water." Then, just to show the crew that they had a situation at hand, she threw her hand forward, trying to get the waves to move. It worked—the Celeste rocked dangerously.
"Juvia!" Natsu hissed, thrown around by the ocean. His concentration had broken, and one of the logs had torched the back of the schooner. Juvia hastened to direct a swell of water upward to extinguish the flames, jolting the ship.
Natsu struggled to stay above water. "Fuck it!" He said, and raised a veined arm. The fire above roared, surging forward.
Since he'd done it without warning, Juvia struggled to follow, picturing in her mind's eye the floor of the schooner. Let it be safe, she thought, drawing the vapor in the air, waiting for the right time to get rid of the offensive flames. She will let it burn the wood for a moment. A moment for Gray to do something. Anything!
"I'll get the others!" Gray yelled above her. There was a note of actual terror under his words. "We have to go!"
On the other side of the schooner, farther inland, Lucy Heartfilia struggled to get the first mate Levy back up the ship. She was counting the minutes, noting that the sky was a darker blue than the purple it was supposed to be. For once, she hated the look of blinking stars.
"Levy, can't I just visit it? I miss it!" Lucy wheedled, trying to get the right amount of desperation in her voice. Too desperate and it might make Levy suspicious. The atmosphere of the pub, which had a few days ago felt full of possibility to Lucy as she planned the hijacking with Natsu and the others, was doing nothing for her nerves. She was acutely aware of each jostle and gasp of the drunkards around her. What if they'd burned down the Celeste? She was going to kill Natsu if he'd burned down the Celeste!
Levy frowned, brushing a flyaway blue hair under her bandanna. "Lucy, the captain said 'at all costs'. I'm not losing my exploring privileges for your nostalgia."
"It isn't fair!" Lucy exclaimed, a little wildly. "The Celeste was my mother's. Father has no business withholding it from me!" It was the truth, and one she'd had to keep to herself in favor of coming up with this half-mad plan to get the ship back. But the betrayal only fueled her festering resentment of her father, who shut himself away from her in their shared grief. She'd thought, every day, I can forgive him.
I can forgive him. But for this—for Celeste? When she'd done nothing to earn his distrust? When she needed it to get Erza back? Princess Erza, the only one who'd comforted her during the funeral, who'd asked Lucy to become a lady-in-waiting so she could escape her bleak house for the court.
Not for this.
The truth must've shown on her face. Lucy was a little relieved to see Levy's eyes soften.
But then—. "We could just go back to the estate," Levy said, trying to placate her. "We could stay in the library, just like before. Talk about stories. Will you like that?"
Despite everything, she felt herself go soft. Wouldn't it have been nice to spend a night with Levy, her childhood friend, before she went to the Dread Sea and never came back? It was only the thought of Natsu and Erza and Gray— and Juvia, in Juvia's own way— that made Lucy say, "Levy, I just want to see it. I came here for Celeste."
Levy shook her head. "I told you—"
"Levy! Levy!" A sopping wet man Lucy recognized to be part of Celeste's crew came crashing through the tables. The customers he'd bumped into threw curses at him, but he barreled through like a man possessed. Levy stood up, Lucy's childhood pains forgotten.
In that split second, Lucy let herself imagine the worst. This man was going to say some idiots tried setting fire to the Celeste. The schooner was a charred piece of wood sinking into the New Sea. A man had drowned—pink hair, brown skin…
Lucy rose as well. "What—"
"The Celeste is on fire!"
Levy made a choked sound as Lucy forced surprise on her face. "And the crew?"
The man shook his head. "We abandoned ship. It wasn't worth it—"
Levy had to lean against the table, gasping. "My papers! All my research!" And then Levy turned to her, worry and grief and apology on her face. "Your m—"
Seizing her chance, Lucy said, "Did the fire spread fast?" She looked at the man, before turning back to Levy. "Maybe we can still get your research!"
Levy grimaced. "Lucy, I don't think—"
"We can still save it!" Lucy insisted, shrill. She could see that the force of her persistence had stunned the other girl and did not understand how it looked until something settled on Levy's face.
"M-Maybe we could," Levy said, with a touch of uncertainty, though she was already moving to the door. "Lucy, you can come with me."
The pub was close to the docks, which meant that they could see the ruckus the fire was causing. Lucy knew her friend only patronized the place to stay close to the Celeste, always ready for her next trip and her next chance at research. And Lucy wasn't so stupid as to be unaware of Levy's sudden change of heart.
Levy had thought she was giving Lucy a last farewell to her mother's beloved ship, and Lucy was using it to lure her into a mission that could kill them all.
If it were any other circumstance, Lucy would have balked. How dare she play god and decide Levy's future? And to use her own mother's death… she was as good a monster as any. When they finally saw the Celeste, a small crowd loitering around the edge as shipmasters worried over their own, Lucy was almost fooled as well. The flames were huge. Against the dark night and the dark water, the horizon a faint break in the tapestry, the schooner was an earth-born star. It was horrible. It was beautiful.
And Lucy had thought of it. She'd thought of stealing Celeste like it was one of her books: Natsu, set it on fire. Juvia, save it. Gray, get inside. That Lucy had willingly risked the safety of one of her mother's only memories spoke of her desperation. There, Father.
Stealing a glance at a horrified Levy, she thought about confessing right then. Telling Levy, who had been her confidante before they grew older, would be easy. Levy, she just needed to say. It's Erza. We need Celeste for Erza. Maybe Levy would understand, even if at first she'd never let them use Celeste without the captain's permission. Maybe she would come around.
But as Levy jumped on the boat that she thought was bound for a burning ship, Lucy took the chance to unravel the last bit of rope tethering the Celeste to land. Gray had loosened it for her all morning. We need the Celeste for Erza. They didn't have time to wait for anyone to come around.
Lucy and Levy had rowed faster than any one of them thought possible. Halfway there, Levy murmured, "That's strange… The fire has been going on for a while, hasn't it? But it hasn't spread all the way."
Lucy grunted, giving her whole body to slicing through the waves. Her arms were burning, but Levy was too perceptive for her own good. If they didn't get there already, she'd think of turning back. "Come on, Levy!" she ground out, the frustration spilling over. "Your research!"
It felt like a million years before they bumped into the body of the schooner, but they'd done it. Lucy's arms felt limp. "Oh no," said Levy. "How are we going up…"
But it was an empty concern. Two heads appeared from the deck to throw a rope ladder down. One of them paled at the sight of Levy. "Levy, no!" The other cried, unable to help himself.
Levy was looking at her, horror around her widened eyes.
"You have to get up," Lucy said, weaker than she'd intended. "Get up, Levy."
Hesitantly, but with a skill that betrayed her years with the ship, Levy pulled herself up as Lucy followed.
She gasped upon reaching the deck. "L-Lucy?" Levy called back.
Lucy hurried up and saw Levy pressed against the side, clutching at the rope ladder. In front of her, Gray was holding a sword to one of the men's necks. Though she knew Gray meant only to threaten, she felt chilled by it.
"What took you so long?" Gray said tightly. Lucy had never seen him look so tense. All around him water sloshed around their feet, gathering in corners as the ship tilted. The wood of the floor had scorch marks licking all over the main deck. "Natsu and Juvia have been at it for too long."
She understood his worry. The way his mouth wavered around Juvia's name, as it always did, revealed the cause of his bad mood. Lucy hurried to the other side, where the flames were so alive they burned her even at this distance. In the orange haze, she caught sight of Natsu's face.
"Natsu! Juvia! We have it!"
The fire couldn't fade just like that, but Gray found that he didn't care for much logic while a wall of heat separated them from Juvia and Natsu. He turned his attention back to Jet and Droy, pointing his sword. "Don't try anything," he said, letting the temperature drop. They wore matching expressions of mutiny, but otherwise stood still.
As the fire receded, Gray looked out to the ocean, where Juvia and Natsu floated. "It's okay to come up," he said uselessly. And then he couldn't resist: "Juvia, are you okay?"
"What am I, nothing?" He heard Natsu scrape out as they both swam forward. They had to get up, Gray thought, before the flames went out completely and darkness claimed Juvia alone in that wide sea. He took his blade and slashed at the ropes he'd hidden behind sacks, shirts, and whatever else he could toss to the side haphazardly. He'd watched it all day, waiting to see if the other men would notice anything different. But they'd trusted in each other and didn't think to check the ship other than the cursory first look whenever they came up. They were lucky that Mystogan, the man Gray had claimed, wasn't expected to talk to anyone.
"Gray, it's too soon," Lucy said, looking up from her strained conversation with the girl she came with.
Gray ignored her, tossing the rope ladder down the ship's side. "Here," he called out, before dropping his sword to the floor and jumping in. He only vaguely noticed Natsu hauling himself forward.
Gray's arms closed around Juvia at once, letting her go limp against him. Her sigh was cold against his neck, a familiar sensation. The only warm thing about her was her gaze. "Gray-sama," she said, and Gray tensed. He should've never have asked her to come.
"I've got you," he muttered as he dragged them both to the ladder. He felt tiny pins landing on his hair and didn't realize it was raining until a drop landed on Juvia's pale cheek, rolling down to her chin.
When they finally made it on the deck with the others, the rain was coming down with a vengeance.
"It was a clear night," he heard the small girl— Levy, he supposed —say faintly, rushing for the cover of the cabin.
He let Juvia collapse on the floor, rolling onto her back with her arms splayed across wet planks. Gray watched her close her eyes to the downpour. "Did you do this?" he asked, knowing the answer. She'd already spent too much energy on the fire, but how could he tell her to stop when he'd asked everything of her? And always, she would give and give. Just once, he wished Juvia would do something because she wanted to. Not because she had to. Not because of some fucked up life debt that he'd earned, unintentionally, when they were kids.
"Gray-sama let the fire end too soon," Juvia said. "We needed a reason for it to have ended."
He hated it. He didn't want her to go through the world thinking that she owed him. Gray hated it when Juvia looked at him with those eyes that stripped him down to nothing, always seeking, always asking, always forgiving.
And yet it would kill him if she stopped. He kneeled beside her, brushing the hair plastered to her face with an attempt at softness. What do you want from me? After this, if they survived, Juvia would be rid of him forever. No, Juvia would be free. The thought lanced through him like a knife.
"Thank you, Juvia," Gray said, wanting to say more.
Author's Note: This is so late, but the pandemic has been doing a number on me and I finally decided to come back to it. Tell me what you think!