Chapter Two - Teething Trouble

Day One: Monday

The further they trudged into the forest, the more Freed understood what Gajeel was going to put him through. In a word: Survival.

He should have guessed by the way Gajeel had treated him before they'd left magnolia that the antagonism shared between them would be a factor in the week. Gajeel had immediately told him to leave his bags at home - "You're only gonna need the clothes on yer back, city boy." - and had taken every opportunity to call Freed 'fragile' and 'spoiled'. Clearly, he thought that Freed was a man unused to roughing it, and who had spent his life in luxury.

To put it simply, Gajeel hadn't planned a training exercise. He had planned three days of pushing Freed to his limits, trying to break him and expose his supposed weakness. No doubt the following three days would be filled with pointless physical labour and an excess of exaggerated survivalist exercises,

Freed found it oddly exciting; he would enjoy proving the idiot wrong.

"Heads up," Gajeel grunted, letting go of a branch he'd pushed aside, clearly intending to let it hit Freed. Freed, being a trained mage with refined reflexes, caught the branch before it struck him. Gajeel saw, his lips twitched down slightly. "Hm."

"Are you intending to be obnoxious," Freed asked, boot squelching in the mud. "Or is that just your personality?"

"Not enjoying yourself, city-boy?"

"You've hardly proven yourself to be a conversationalist, have you?" Freed mused, climbing the small verge of grass that Gajeel was guiding him to. "And so far, rather than training of any kind, you've decided to take me on a walk around the forest and not much else."

"We're nearly there," Gajeel grunted. "And maybe if ya shut yer trap I'd be better company."

"You're quite defensive, I do hope I didn't strike a nerve," Freed hummed, wanting to annoy the man. "If simply insulting your plans has gotten your hackles raisen so quickly, then you've got thinner skin than I had expected."

"I've got thin skin?" Gajeel scoffed. "Sure."

That was the entirety of the conversation shared between the two men for the morning. The forest Gajeel had chosen for them to walk through was one unfamiliar to Freed, and as such he couldn't be sure if he was being taken a direct route to wherever Gajeel was taking him, or if he had been walking in circles for Gajeel to test his stamina and ability to cross a wooded area. They'd seen the same stream a few times, at different places, so Freed was fairly sure that they weren't going the most direct route.

Only when the sun was high in the sky did Gajeel decide to stop walking. Though he wouldn't say it, Freed's as thankful for the rest, as his legs were starting to complain. He looked around where they had paused to see what Gajeel considered a good stopping point,

Gajeel was obnoxious, but he clearly knew what he was doing.

He'd found a small clearing in the trees, with a break in the canopy that gave them direct sunlight and dryer grass. They were a close walk from the stream, so had both a water and food source, if the fish were safe to eat. They weren't so far from the trees that it would be a trial to find shelter if the rain began. Freed was impressed, and looked to Gajeel for further instructions; if he wanted to beat him at his own game, he needed to know what this game was.

"You might have figured out what this is," Gajeel began, looking towards Freed. He was clearly proud of himself. "For the next three days, we're camping out here, living off the land. No help, no magic, no luxury."

He had emphasised the word luxury, as if the lack of it might make Freed cry. Gods, it would be sweet to wipe that smile off his face.

"You act like I've never camped before," Freed commented.

"Not like this you ain't," Gajeel stated. Technically it was true, Freed usually had a flimsy tent at least, but it was hardly a worrying prospect. "We need food, shelter, heat. Since we have to work together, we split duties. I'll get some fish, you make a fire and get us some shelter made," He crossed his arms and smirked, "if you can handle it, of course."

"I'm sure I can cope," Freed drawled. "Though I might fall to pieces if I chip one of my nails."

Gajeel grunted and turned around. Apparently he wasn't happy that his clear assumptions about Freed had been thrown back at him. That only made Freed more enthusiastic about showing just how capable a man he was, and how wrong Gajeel was in his ideas.

With his teammate walking towards the shallow stream, Freed looked around to see what he had to use. Clearly Gajeel didn't want him using his magic for his time in the forest, so the shelter wouldn't be so easy as making a rune barrier to keep them warm and protected, but that wasn't too difficult to contend with. As they'd walked, Freed had been taking note of the wildlife, and suspected that wolves, bears and other hostile creatures would not cause a problem. The main cause for shelter would be the weather, both protection from the sun and the rain if the clouds rolled in. Perfectly easy.

Using his sword, which had been considered as part of the clothes on his back, Freed began ripping large sheets of bark from nearby trees. He then began hacking away at the lower branches, those wide enough to support some weight but thin enough to be cut away fairly easily.

With enough supplies, he walked back to the clearing. Gajeel was still in the stream, with the water up to his ankles. On the rocks by the shore, four fish were sat dead, wirh Gajeel seemingly attempting to catch them some more. It was an impressive sight to see, he was picking them out from the water without a second thought, and Freed was reluctantly grateful. Catching fish on his own was not something he would be proficient in.

Not without his magic, anyway.

He refocused his attention on the task at hand. He was intending to make a small hut for them both to shelter under. It wouldn't be complicated: four of the branches would hold up the sheets of bark. It wouldn't be particularly large, and the protection of the wind would be non-existent, but it would do what was needed to protect them from either sunstroke, or a cold, depending on the weather.

Freed quickly put his plans into action. The four strongest branches were dug into the dirt, propped up in place by the weaker branches. He tied the pieces of bark together using weeds and some of the longer leaves, making it into a single sheets that would protect them from the elements. It didn't take long for him to affix the bark to the branches, and he made sure to test the structural integrity of the hut by kicking each of the branches. With each kick, the hut held, and Freed considered it to be a success.

"Ain't too bad," Gajeel said, suddenly behind Freed. Freed only allowed a small twitch of surprise. "Don't see a fire, though."

"I expect that's because I haven't made one yet," Freed retorted, shaking the hut again to be sure the bark would hold. "I'm afraid there's not much space under it, so we'll have to sleep close to one another. I might have made it larger, but you seem averse to luxury and I didn't wish to scare you."

"You ain't funny," Gajeel grunted. "Make a fire, city-boy."

Ah, so 'city-boy' was going to stay? That was unfortunate.

Still, as much as Freed would have liked to explain how incorrect the nickname was, Gajeel would prefer actions over words. If he wanted a fire, Freed was happy to make a fire.

This was child's play for him, he was a mage after all. He made a bed of rocks to protect the grass from burning, then began laying thicker logs into a pile. Next, the thin and dried out twigs that would quickly set alight without much complaint. Finally, dry leaves that would take a spark and turn into fire.

It took a few moments for Freed to find a piece of flint, but he did. Once he had, he rested his sword in the middle of the unlit fire. He struck the blade with the flint, sparks flying from it.

Gajeel didn't once stop watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. He didn't, and the fire was soon burning.

"Is that satisfactory," Freed asked, placing the sword in the scabbard as the fire grew beside him. "Or do you wish for me to trek into the forest and tame a wolf so that it can protect us?"

"I said you ain't funny," Gajeel muttered. He handed Freed one of the many fish he had caught. "Gut this. Hope you ain't squeamish."

Freed openly laughed, having him gut a fish was Gajeel's trump card?

This would be easier than he thought.

Everything about the day had worked out in Freed's favour, and it was delightful to watch Gajeel get more and more angry about it. He clearly wanted Freed to blanch at the idea of working to survive, and Freed had proven himself a capable man under every task he had been given. This was a competition, and so far Freed was dominating it.

"Stand up," Gajeel demanded suddenly, and Freed raised an eyebrow. "You wanted to train right? Let's train."

"Very well," Freed said, standing up. "What did you have in mind?"

It was late in the evening now, and the fire was the only source of light. Clouds were obstructing the moon, thankfully, meaning Freed didn't have to worry about the demon burning away inside of him. Whatever Gajeel had in store, Freed wanted complete focus so he could finally end this ridiculous test he'd been put through.

Following his teammate, he was taken a short ways away from the hut he'd created. They were close to the stream, but not so far that they couldn't see one another in the darkness. Gajeel stopped, turned towards Freed, and spread his arms.

"You rely on yer magic too much," Gajeel stated, despite the fact Freed has spent the day disproving that fact. "And I'm willing to bet you hang back in a fight and let Sparky and the Acrobat do most of the physical shit. If you go against someone who cancels your magic then you're shit out of luck, and I ain't gonna fight with a guy who can only toss spells at a guy and hope it works."

"I can't decide if you're wilfully ignoring everything I've done today, or if you're too stupid to have a short term memory," Freed commented with a patronising grin.

"Keep talking shit, it'll only make this worse," Gajeel grinned, his fangs poking through his lips.

Freed went to retort, but Gajeel did the most peculiar thing, and removed his shirt. The suddenness of the action stopped Freed's words before they came.

"We're gonna wrestle. No magic, no weapons, no holds barred. Just gotta rely on our own strength. We keep going until one of us gives us or loses consciousness."

"Very well," Freed shrugged, reaching up to remove his cravat. "Once you've given up, you can perhaps lose this idea that I'm incapable."

"Doubt it," Gajeel grunted.

Freed, to keep in step with Gajeel, removed his own shirt and threw it to the side. As he did, he assessed his opponent. Gajeel was objectively a broader and more muscular man, and despite how intentionally toned he was - nobody got a six pack accidentally - Gajeel's muscles weren't just a result of vanity. The man was physically stronger than him, and had the advantage. But Freed had succeeded in situations worse than this, and Gajeel's cockiness would be his downfall.

With both men stripped to the waist, they assumed a battle ready stance. Gajeel counted down from three, and they lurched towards one another the moment the fight began. The bartering of a muscular form against his own took the wind out of Freed, but he grappled the man around the waist without hesitation.

They struggled like that for a moment, both pushing to wrong foot the other man, neither succeeding.

Freed felt his feet stumbling slightly, and knew that Gajeel's strength was greater than his own. He needed to be smart about this: he would exhaust his target, and take what opportunities presented to throw Gajeel off. One such opportunity had just shown up - if Gajeel wanted to push him back, he would give him what he wanted.

With fast movements, he removed his arms from around Gajeel's waist and shunted back. Too late to adjust his momentum, Gajeel stumbled forward, landing face first in the ground where Freed had just been.

"I'm embarrassed for you that that worked," Freed commented before he could stop himself.

Just as Gajeel pushed himself up off the ground, Freed tackled him again. He was successful this time, flipping him so his back was flush against the grass. When Gajeel's right hand came to push Freed off, he quickly took hold and pinned it above his head. He pressed a foot into Gajeel's stomach to hold him down, smirking as he went to further taunt the man. Just before the words could leave his mouth, a splitting pain filled Freed.

The bastard had kicked him in the stomach.

Gajeel had meant it when he'd said no holds barred. Freed could work with that.

Pushing himself up before Freed could recover, Gajeel crashed into Freed with his full body weight, and the press of the man's strong form was pinning Freed to the ground immediately. One hand was pressing Freed's hands to the ground, his foot was pinning Freed's right leg in place, and his other hand was pressing against Freed's throat with strength behind it. He also meant it when he'd said until one of them was unconscious.

But Freed was not a man to go down without a fight. With only his left leg unpinned, he did something he wasn't particularly proud of, but worked in the situation. He slammed his knee into Gajeel's groin, and the pressure went away as Gajeel staggered to the side.

"Fucking bastard," Gajeel roared, voice a little higher than normal. "What the hell?"

Freed didn't waste the opportunity, and pushed his foot to Gajeel's spine and pressed him face first into the ground. He'd cupped his balls on instinct, meaning his hands were essentially pinned below him when Freed asserted more pressure.

"No holds barred," Freed taunted. "A word of advice. If you set a rule around me, I tend to remember-"

He was cut off when Gajeel suddenly lurched back, throwing Freed's leg off him and making him scramble for balance. He grabbed Freed by the calve and pulled down with strength, taking Freed to the ground beside him. Freed found his arms yanked behind him, and grunted a little at the pain as they were pinned against his lower back. He didn't struggle, it would only exhaust him.

"Givin' up so quickly, huh?" Gajeel purred. "Ain't surprised. Knew you couldn't handle it."

Gajeel had meant to taunt him, but all he had done was show where he was. The words had been right beside Freed's ear, and so Gajeel's face was right behind his ear too. With a jerk, Freed rammed his head back, feeling the crack of the other man's jaw against his skull. The grip on his hands loosened, and he managed to push the man off him.

The following few moments followed a pattern. Freed would get the better of Gajeel, Gajeel would push him off and pin Freed down. Freed in turn would get Gajeel off him, and push him down. The pattern would repeat itself, with neither man gaining the upper hand for too long.

"Ah," Freed panted at the sudden cold on his back as he was pushed to the ground again. Water, they were at the stream now.

"Cold ain't a bother, right?" Gajeel smirked, kicking Freed in the chest when he tried to sit up.

"You're determined to think me weak, aren't you?" Freed rasped slightly, winded from the kick. "Which is a brave thing to say, given you were rolling around the floor cupping your balls just moments ago."

An exaggeration, but the snarl of anger he got was worth it.

Suddenly, one of Gajeel's large hands was wrapped up in Freed's hair, and a kick to the gut had Freed turning. A foot was pressed against this back, forcing him to lie face down in the cold water. Gajeel made sure to hold his face towards the flow of the stream, and the feeling of it rushing into his partially split lips and nose was a horrid burning. A nasty trick.

Freed tried to push himself up, but the fight was lasting longer than he hoped and after a day of labour, Freed's muscles were starting to protest. He tried to raise his head, but Gajeel wouldn't allow it.

Above all, Freed was a strategist. Sometimes, a retreat was the logical choice.

He knew he could get out of this hold. With the right angle, he could take hold of Gajeel's leg and pull it in the same way Gajeel had done to him to knock him off balance. But what then? They would fall back into the spiral of pinning one another, hitting one another, and achieving nothing.

This entire exercise was an act of futility. Gajeel was trying to prove Freed was weak willed and impractical, despite the fact it was clearly untrue. Freed was trying to prove Gajeel wrong, but the man was too pigheaded to accept it.

"I give," Freed grunted, voice warped by the water.

"What was that?" Gajeel taunted.

"I said I give," Freed spat.

The hand keeping his head partially underwater was gone, and the foot holding him down soon followed. Freed spat out the water as he turned, body aching as he sat in the stream. Gajeel was looking down at him as if he were dirt, and it took a lot of self restraint not to attack the man where he stood.

"You think yer hot shit, but you ain't," Gajeel grunted, "You're a spineless ass with some spells you rely on too much."

"You know damn well I only stopped that because it was pointless," Freed snarled, standing up, water dripping from him. "And you didn't ban magic because you want to see me fight without it. You were just scared of me showing my power because you know it dwarves yours."

"The hell did you say?" Gajeel growled, and magic energy filled the space as Gajeel's hands turned to a blade.

"You heard me," Freed's voice was distorted - demonic - and he didn't care. "You are in the presence of a powerful wizard and terrified."

For a moment, neither man spoke. Tense magical energy flowed form them both, ready to lurche should they need it. Gajeel relented, walking towards the fire, murmuring that he couldn't wait for the week to be over.

That, at least, was something they could agree upon.