Life (and not the fun sort. I'm talking studying, full time work and independent consulting) got in the way of writing and posting this - so big shout out to everyone following for their patience :)
Hope you all enjoy this next update for Desna's Pradesh week xx
Chapter 5. Particular.
It had taken Zen several hours to 'sober' up from the effect his magic had had on the drugs that were forced into him, even after he'd woken up from what he suspected was a sleep spell. It was almost dark when Amalie had trusted him enough to sneak out from the catacombs to steal clothing for them both, and they'd gotten close to the border before finally stopping for the had led him to his current predicament.
In all the years he'd been kept at the pits, he'd never woken up with a woman - they were always removed from his cell before he went to sleep. He looked down now at the crown of pale pink hair of the young woman, who smelled uniquely like cherry blossoms and smoke, that was using his bicep as a pillow, trying to decide if he should wake her and how. His other arm was curled around her waist, holding her with her back snug to his chest. He couldn't pick her age, she had a young face but her expressive eyes showed him that she'd seen many things. She'd handled his drugged antics maturely, turning down his advances and moving out of reach from his wandering hands with promises to consider his offers of pleasure at a more appropriate time. He suspected she thought he'd forget about it, but he most definitely wouldn't.
They definitely hadn't gone to sleep like this; he distinctly remembered sprawling out on his back and taking in the stars. Gods, how he'd missed seeing them. It had been years since he'd seen the sky at night without the obstruction of bars. He was feeling good now that he'd slept, actually slept deeply and not just lightly for fear of it making him vulnerable in a world of dangerous and conniving men, and the access to his magic made him feel more complete than he could ever remember feeling.
His predicament stirred then, stretching slightly before freezing when she felt his hand on her waist and realised their position. She cursed softly, a word that he'd heard men much bigger than her say plenty of times in pits but never a woman. He couldn't help himself from chuckling, and when she looked over her shoulder at him sheepish and red faced, it turned into a proper laugh that didn't stop even when her elbow connected sharply with his ribs and she wriggled from his grasp and stood.
"You were the one who snuggled up, fyi," she told him blandly, finally getting her blush under control. "Haven't you dry humped me enough lately?"
"You did promise to entertain the idea of letting me hump you properly," Zen reminded her with a grin, rolling to his feet with practised ease and stretching his arms over his head. He didn't miss the way the pinkette's eyes lingered on the exposed skin of his stomach before trailing up to his face, and smiled at her wolfishly.
"That doesn't mean yes," she sniped back, straightening her clothes and deliberately adjusting her bust for the big gladiator's benefit when she saw him eyeing her movements.
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A big dark haired man was waiting patiently near the airship port for the next freighter to arrive, his pink haired companion sprawled out on her stomach on the grass beside him in the sun plucking at blades of grass. A stack of freight was piled carefully near them, bound for Bosco. To a casual onlooker they could pass as merchants, but everyone on board the Bellona knew exactly who they really were and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"There they are!" Lucy exclaimed as she leaned over the air ship's railing and waved, deliberately moving so that her backside ground against Vander's groin. Payback was a bitch and she fully intended to torture him after he'd kissed her breathless that morning and left her wanting so much more, but the ship making an unexpected stop had prevented things going further. The fact they had zero privacy save for the blankets covering them was also overlooked by the blonde at the time. She was particularly embarrassed about her lapse in judgement when Cristoff teased her about it at breakfast, and accusing him of being a voyeur only made the big Slayer laugh even more.
"If you don't stop that, I'll take you here in front of everyone," the Shadowquip warned in response, as his fingers dug into her hips and he thrust gently back against her.
"Promise?" the blonde hummed, her sweet smile and wide chocolate eyes belying the less than innocent intent behind her question. Vander smirked at the little temptress and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. She giggled and turned her attention back to the port they were in the process of docking.
"Wait here." The Shadowquip left Lucy on board and disembarked, making a show of checking the freight that was being 'picked up'. His missing brother scooped the woman up carefully, although not carefully enough if her pained grimace was anything to go by. Vander noticed some guards getting closer and gave the gladiator a meaningful gaze. He wasn't sure if they were port workers or Pergrandian, but didn't want to take any chances. He gazed at Amalie, observing her paler than usual face and her even shallow breaths. She was injured and they needed to get the hell out of here.
"Everything looks good. Here are your papers, Sir," he told Zen, improvising and handing the bigger man some scraps of blank paper, hoping he'd play along. "You and your wife can get settled on the ship and we'll load your freight."
The taller man nodded at him, moving past Vander to walk up the gangplank as the crew collected their luggage. They were greeted on the deck by a brown eyed blonde wearing a silk headscarf and yellow sundress. "Good morning and welcome to the Bellona. Can I get you anything?"
Celestial magic rolled off the woman, much stronger than her deceptively innocent looks indicated, and it made the gladiator cautious. "My wife needs medical attention. Can you direct me to your infirmary?"
"Of course, sir. Follow me," the young woman chirped, turning on her heel and leading them down the stairs and through the ship's galley. She pushed open the door to the infirmary and moved so Zen could enter.
He sat down on the starch white sheets of the bed with his back against the bed head, and gently sat the pinkette down between his legs she she could lean sideways against his chest so there was no pressure on her wounds. His arms rested around her waist as they sat in comfortable silence.
The ships engines started up and a tall man entered the room.
"I'm Cristoff Pradesh," he introduced himself. He gave off a calm aura that almost soothed Zen's discomfort and his magical signature was strong, but the gladiator could sense his true strength was carefully hidden. Cris smiled easily at the pair on the bed as he approached. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, brother."
Zen just nodded, unsure what else to do. He felt like he had been blindly following Amalie to meet the airship with the promise of returning him to his family, and now he was here, faced with them, and he felt more unsure of this situation than if he were faced bare handed with a dozen wyvern. He subconsciously held the pinkette a little closer, seeking comfort in her proximity
"Are you hurt? I can smell tainted blood."
"It's Amalie's blood," Zen told him, waving off his looks of concern. He had a few scratches here and there, but nothing even remotely life threatening. "Her back will need stitches. Maybe her scalp, too. We were inconvenienced by some berserkers and Pergrandian soldiers at the border."
There had been a 'welcoming party' of four Pergrandian created berserkers and some soldiers at the border to Sin. The berserkers, oversized men that Zen had explained later were the result of scientific experiments by the King, were unlike anything the pinkette had ever faced before, and her inexperience had resulted in a serious misjudgement of the creatures' speed and agility. She'd only managed to kill one and maim a second, whilst Zen had dispatched the other two and the one she'd injured in the same time.
"You say that like they were nothing," Amalie grit out as the blonde rejoined them. "Zen, this is Lucy. She's my guildmate at Fairy Tail."
The Celestial mage smiled brightly at the gladiator as she gently peeled the bottom of the pinkette's shirt up to reveal the bandages and tried to move her arm. Amalie hissed at the movement, feeling the wound on her back split open again and warm blood trickle out from the soiled bandages and down her spine. "Cut my shirt off. I can't lift my arm."
Zen watched as his brother moved around the bed while Lucy cut the shirt off so he could start removing the dressings, not letting go of Amalie. "You're strong. What is your magic?"
"I'm a Lunar Dragon Slayer," Cristoff responded easily, wincing when he could finally see all the damage. Three claw like ragged wounds ran from one of her shoulders down to her waist on the opposite side and oozed pus. There was definitely poison involved but it smelled synthetic and alien. The Poison Slayer had been correct.
"Like I'd make it up," the man in question drawled, appearing in the doorway. He chuckled at the silent question in the form of a raised eyebrow from Amalie. "You're naked friend answered your lacrima and told me your body had become a meth lab, so here I am."
"Bon appetit," the pinkette told him weakly, a small grin curling the edges of her lips. She knew the Poison Slayer had zero interest in her sexually, so added, "Told you you'd eat me out someday."
"Fucking hell, queenie. I wouldn't touch your snatch with a ten foot pole," Cobra snarled playfully, poking her wound and avoiding the woman when she hissed at the action and growled at him. He made a show of sucking the blood from his finger before giving her a fang filled grin. "Angel boy wasn't lying when he said that shit was potent. How the fuck are you still functioning?"