WE UPDATE ONCE A WEEK
CHAPTER FIVE
Toe-to-Toe
when both fighters stand in front of each other and engage
Lucy felt sick to her stomach.
She wasn't sure if she could sit through another of these fights.
She'd spent the last twenty minutes watching a young boy slam his opponent into a wall, ignoring the other's eventual pleas for mercy until he passed out, left in a puddle of mud water and his own blood. This wasn't a sport. This was slaughter.
Levy's voice crackled in her ear occasionally, but she couldn't afford to respond. Not here, perched between fur coats and cocktail glasses. Some watched the arena with greedy eyes, while others barely even glanced at the fighters tearing each other apart, favouring low conversation with their neighbours. Lucy wasn't sure which ones she despised more.
Forcing herself to turn her attention back to the ring below, Lucy saw a new fighter had been shoved into the pool. This one was older, a lot more broad and mature, with blond hair and a cocky expression. Her eyes moved to the other door as it creaked - and then her heart stopped.
It was him.
It had to be him. He was nothing like the boy she remembered - but the pink hair was a dead giveaway if she ever had seen one. Even from a distance, it stood out brightly against its surroundings. It was tied into a ponytail, loose strands falling into his forehead.
His eyes were filled with murderous intent, not the kindness she remembered.
But he was the boy from back then, if all grown-up. Salamander, they had called him.
She had finally found him.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she leaned forward to get a closer look.
But then the bell chimed, signaling the start of the match, and she watched in shock as the two men launched at each other with vicious snarls. More animal than man.
Her hands curling into fists, she followed the events tensely. Please win. The thought flashed through her mind, and she found herself disgusted for being pulled in and wishing loss upon one of them, no matter which. She had seen what happened to the losers in the ring, and she could only imagine what happened to them afterwards.
Images kept popping up before her mind's eye, of battered and bruised bodies in cages, of bulky men laughing as they carried out punishment, of shouting and screaming children - and worse, the motionless, barely living that were transported off without a word.
She shivered involuntarily at the unwelcome memories.
And yet, she did want her old friend to win, no matter how much she judged herself for it. Winning was the only option.
The blond fighter (one of the twin dragons, they had called him) dragged a well-placed foot deep into Salamander's stomach, sending him flying against the wall. His foot caught on a jagged tile which ripped a gash into his right calf as he fell. Blood dripped onto the tiles, and he struggled to get up as his opponent advanced.
He was dazed, getting slammed back into the tile having disoriented him. His head lifted, and in one startling moment his eyes found hers.
It could have been for just a second, but that time seemed to stretch out. It was a tangible moment, pulled taut like a cord. And for a single moment Lucy thought she saw recognition flash in his eyes.
But his enemy was advancing, and their eyes lost contact as hers widened in fear.
Time had not held still for long, and his opponent closed the space between himself and Salamander with ease. His fist snapped out, staggering Salamander a few steps back into the slick slope of the pool.
His head shook, a bandaged hand lifting to rub at his jaw.
The audience roared different jeers and shouts. Lucy held her breath.
She only had eyes on what Salamander would do next. If he would crumple on unsteady legs, or push forward.
Everyone in the audience held their breath, when a sudden, cocky smirk sliced over his face. With a roar, he threw his entire body into an attack that pulled the other to the ground as well, both of them rolling through rubble as limbs tangled and fists flew.
Salamander came out on top, holding the blond one's face down, pushing it into a puddle until he struggled for air, then letting him come up only to slam him right back down onto the tiles. Lucy thought he could have defeated him right then and there, could have all but drowned him and left him to die - but he didn't.
He jumped back onto his feet, beckoning for the other to follow with a fierce grin on his face.
Maybe he wanted to play some more - but Lucy thought he was being fair.
It was not something she had seen in any of the other fights.
Their corded bodies moved like tightly wound springs, jumping, ducking and dealing out blows and punches with the cries of the crowd spurring them on. It was unlike anything Lucy had seen before.
This fight was on another level; even Lucy, who did not know the first thing about martial arts, knew this as she watched the two men fight.
From the sounds of it, she was not the only one who thought so. The audience's eyes were exclusively on the fighters, and Lucy overheard more than one person saying what she could not have known: that even for regular spectators of the ring, this was not ordinary.
It was a close call; they were seemingly equals for a long time. But slowly, Salamander was gaining the upper hand.
A sick sense of pride washed over Lucy, and she bit down harshly on her lip as if to punish herself.
They were both covered in blood and sweat, panting heavily, but neither stopped for even a second. To Lucy, it was a mystery how they were still standing upright.
But Salamander was relentless in his attacks, and the next time blondie came for him, a grin flashed across his face before he stopped him dead in his tracks, simply grabbing the fist that had come down in a forceful attack and twisting his wrist in a way that made the man drop to his knees in front of him.
He did not get a break; he received a knee to his face next, and then they were both on the ground again, where it took two more direct hits to the face for the blond to cough up a gush of blood. The brute force of Salamander's hits slammed the other's head into the tiles again and again, until he passed out at last, and the bell rang anew.
Lucy ducked out the moment the fight came to an end.
His opponent had to be dragged out by his brother and another beefy looking man. Apparently there were no knock downs or breaks for the fighters. They pummeled one another until the other couldn't move anymore. A literal knock out was the only way to finish the match.
It had been a vicious fight, and as soon as it was over she could see someone stepping into the ring to hose down the blood left behind on the broken tiles. Now Lucy was grateful she had missed most of the lightweight matches thanks to Gajeel's mothering.
She couldn't watch a minute more of this.
While the next middleweight match up began, Lucy separated from the crowd to do a little investigating. This was her chance to try and find out what really went on behind their closed doors.
She strutted around as if she owned the place, keeping her chin up and voice low. "Levy, do you see any place that looks suspicious?"
There was a crackle in the speaker in her ear and Lucy couldn't smother her sigh of relief when Levy's voice answered. She was almost afraid there would be too much interference. They had lost their connection once while the fight had gone on.
"Yeah, I have the layout of the building in front of us - Lu, was that fighter who I think it was?"
Lucy's heart jumped with excitement at the reminder and she nodded even though Levy couldn't see it. "It's him, Levy. I'm positive. I have to find him."
"Gajeel won't be happy with you being alone with a highly trained fighter," Levy cautioned, and it was clear by her tone she agreed with the grumpy detective on that front. "Don't forget why we're here."
"Right. Wendy, of course. I know - just," Lucy sighed.
Levy was right; Lucy knew she was. Even if there was some way she could see Salamander again, she didn't even know if he'd be the same person he was when he helped her. Gajeel warned her how the Ring changed even the most steadfast souls.
"Okay," Lucy relented. "Tell me where I need to go."
"Second door to the left. There's a staircase that goes all the way to the bottom of a corridor. It looks like it's empty right now, so if you're going, it should be now."
Lucy made a noise of acknowledgment and toed off her heels. She gathered them by the straps in the back, dangling them with her finger. Glancing around to make sure she was clear, she lifted the hem of her dress and lightly stepped over the velvet rope divider.
Quickly, and as quietly as she could, Lucy crept down the stairs. She took them two at a time, damp stone and brick a sharp contrast to the clean viewing grounds.
This place was filled with illusions. It was only pretty on the surface, a nice exterior for the paying guests.
These were the terrible conditions the fighters had to endure day in and day out. It was all laid out in front of her, and she flashed back to shivering inside that cage with nothing but a blue kitten and a thin blanket shared between two children.
Anger pulsed in Lucy's ears, reminding her of every reason she ever had to tear this whole organization to the ground. She may not be able to get rid of all the evil in the world, but this evil she could eliminate. She had worked her whole life towards that single-minded goal.
Fire in her heart, she edged down the narrow corridor. Occasionally she stopped to peek into a room but quickly moved on when there was nothing of value. Not even a scrap of paper that hinted at Wendy's location.
She was beginning to get frustrated with her lack of results when the buzz in her ear crackled to life.
"Lucy, you've got some guards making a pass through the corridor! You need to find some place to hide," Levy's voice was hurried and panicked. "Find a room! I won't have eyes on you because there aren't any cameras in the rooms, but you can duck in one until it's clear."
Heart leaping to her throat, Lucy picked a room at random, turning the rusted knob and throwing herself in. She snapped the door shut, the hem of her dress barely whipping around the door jam to avoid getting caught.
She held very still, her heart hammering in her throat as she listened to the sounds of feet passing by. When they faded away, Lucy let herself relax, forehead resting on the door.
"Phew," Lucy sighed.
She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.
Spinning on her bare feet, her heels swinging in her hand, Lucy found herself face to face with Salamander. The very man she had spent fifteen years looking for.
It was a moment she had been fantasizing over for years. What she would say to him when they finally met again, how she would thank him for giving her a chance at a normal life. How she was going to do the same and rescue him from this stink pit. She had written paragraphs in her head, each one more detailed and graphic than the last. It was admittedly a romanticized version of events, where he would be happy and they would leave together, perhaps even becoming friends like she and Gajeel had.
But now, as she stood there, barefoot in this dank little room, she looked into his cold eyes and saw not an ounce of recognition. Every word she had conjured died on her lips before she could say anything, and she couldn't help but remember just a short time earlier she watched him slam another man's face into the tiled floor.
None of that mattered, because there he was. He was a head taller than her, broad shouldered and well muscled. He hadn't yet slipped on the red robe that marked his corner color, but the pants he wore drew her eyes downward. Her mouth dropped open a little at the sight of all that tightly corded muscle flexing under tan skin. Behind him on a bed slept a blue cat curled in a dingy, white scarf.
Her proof.
They both existed. Salamander was a little bruised and bloody, but in one physical piece. That spoke nothing of his mental state, but that wasn't for her to determine anyway. She couldn't help but smile at him.
At that, his hard expression seemed to clear, falling somewhere between business and the vaguest of interest.
"You're the one who bought my time? Not many people want the after-fight experience, but the Master has made an exception once or twice before." Salamander's taped hands dropped to his hips, Lucy's eyes following the motion. He had a large scar on his left side, and it moved when he breathed.
Lucy had to force herself not to stare.
"I haven't even had a chance to take a shower yet, that okay?" he asked, eyes raking over her form appraisingly.
"W-what," Lucy stuttered, taken aback. What was he talking about? She hadn't bought anyone's time. Pulling herself together, she decided to play along for now, keeping her true identity under wraps. "Why would I want you to shower?"
Apart from the obvious, of course. He smelled of blood and sweat, and he looked like he needed a shower. But this was not for her to decide; after all, she had barged in on him uninvited.
He licked his lips, gaze darkening as he stepped closer. "I see."
What did he see? Lucy was getting more confused by the second.
His suddenly so close proximity didn't help either. It was like a flip had switched: his hostility, while not entirely gone, was backspaced in favour of… something else.
Something that made her heart pound and her head spin.
It was only when his hands reached lower to tug into the waistband of his tattered fighting shorts - and he pulled them off in one swift motion - that it dawned on her. What it meant to buy his time.
Oh.
Yelping, Lucy spun around.
"What now," came his unimpressed voice. "This is what you paid for, isn't it?"
Lucy felt the air move behind her, and suddenly she felt the heat from his body invading her personal space. She swallowed hard at the feel of his breath against the back of her neck.
Her entire body froze on the spot when he suddenly pressed against her, leaving no inch between his hot skin and her backside. Her cheeks flushed the deepest shade of red yet, and she released a shuddering breath.
She had to move. Damn her stupid body, and its refusal to follow her mind's commands. When the first shock finally subsided, she gripped his hands, which rested on her hips now, and spun around with an indignant look on her face.
She pointedly avoided any gaze downwards.
"Wait, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding," she said hastily when she looked up into his eyes. "I didn't buy your time."
He looked confused, but his arms slowly dropped down at his sides. Lucy was almost insulted that they did, but remembered it wasn't personal. He thought it was just business. While she was on a mission to try and find clues to the hidden children. Nothing she could actually tell him.
"Then why're you here?" Salamander's expression was bordering on the unfriendly, but Lucy was too busy noticing he had not picked up his shorts yet. And he hadn't moved from her personal bubble.
"Get dressed, or I won't answer any questions!" she commanded in a high-pitched tone, crossing her arms and pouting at the nearest wall.
To her surprise, she heard him huff out a laugh.
It was a sound she had not expected, and she curiously peeked at him. He was indeed obeying her, pulling his pants back up where they belonged.
When he noticed her staring, for the first time in years, she saw him grin. Sure, it was a little cocky and condescending, but it transformed his whole face, and suddenly she could see the traces of the boy he had been still alive on his face.
"Happy now?" he asked with a snort.
"Yes, thank you." Lucy's hands covered her flaming cheeks as she avoided his gaze for a few painful moments. Once she was sure she could look at him with any sort of dignity, she turned her head to him.
He was tugging the bandages off his wrists with impatience. No doubt they had started to itch thanks to the sweat congealing underneath them. One end of the tape was caught between his teeth as he untangled it.
"So what're you doin' so far down here?" he grunted around the bandages he struggled with. "A princess like you shouldn't be hanging in the dungeon with a dragon."
Lucy had a feeling that 'princess' was not a compliment.
But she swallowed down her sharp reply, instead desperately trying to come up with an excuse for her being here. Her mind did not usually leave her hanging, but right now it was struggling. He was eyeing her, sceptical and expectant.
"I, uh… I was looking for the toilets?" It sounded lame even to her own ears.
One of the bandages finally ripped and gave way a little, and Salamander spat a piece of sturdy fiber to the ground. His eyes were fixed on her, cold and unblinking, and he didn't have to tell her that he hadn't bought her lame excuse for her to know it.
Seconds ticked by, and neither spoke.
"The toilets are upstairs," he let her know dryly, but pressed on no further.
"Oh." Lucy shifted uncomfortably. She knew it was a moment she could have used to awkwardly excuse herself, but something in her refused to leave just yet. Not when she had finally found him, standing so close, so obviously numbed and bitter by years of torture. "So, do you - do you need help with that?"
She pointed at the bandages he was having trouble with, and his brows rose.
He stared at her again, clearly not sure why she was sticking around. "Usually we have someone come in to help untie these damn things."
The way he was squinting at her made it seem like he thought she was hiding someone under her gown. Lucy smothered a laugh at the thought and stepped towards him when he silently extended a hand.
"If you're not leaving, you might as well make yourself useful." Salamander shrugged.
Carefully, Lucy took one of his hands in hers, her heart racing for a reason she couldn't bring to voice. It was just a hand, and it was just a bandage she was peeling off. But she couldn't help but treat it like she was holding something made from fine-spun porcelain. Logically she knew he was anything but fragile. His skin was rough from fighting, but his palm was strong and steady. It was much larger than her own.
Her touch was feather light at first, and he gave her a curious look.
"It's not gonna come off like this, ya know," he said, but there was something to his voice that hadn't been there before.
Nodding, she gripped his hand more tightly, using her other to glide along the material, searching for a spot that would give her an opening. She made sure to be as gentle as possible while applying pressure, aware of the pain he must be feeling. His forearms were all scratched, black and blue marks starting to form on his skin, and she could only hope that the skin beneath his tape had taken less damage.
She worked in silence, and slowly felt him relax beside her.
As she peeled the tape off his right hand, rolling it off until she reached the lower, less bloody layers, her own breathing calmed as well, her heartbeat slowing and cheeks returning to a normal colour. Their contact was intimate, but not in a way that made her feel embarrassed.
She felt his eyes on her the whole time.
When the tape had come off all the way, he cleared his throat.
Lucy bunched up the dirty and worn fabric, throwing it into a bucket that she guessed served as a bin, before she made herself look at him.
"Thanks." He flexed his freed hand to get circulation running back through his fingers.
Lucy couldn't even imagine what is was like to wear them for fights.
So he did have some manners, she thought before taking his other hand and giving it the same treatment. The tape had done a pretty good job in protecting his hands, even if the area around it was beginning to darken with bruising.
"So what's your name?" Lucy dared to ask when she removed the last bits of bandages from his left hand.
He let out a dry snort at her question and brought his hands together once they were both finished. There were small nicks over his fingertips but probably nothing that wouldn't heal quickly.
"Salamander," he responded automatically. He flashed her an amused smirk, as if her question was funny in some way.
"No, I mean… your real name," she dug deeper, blinking innocently. That look usually got her far, especially with those who were weak to her womanly ways.
However, it did not have the desired effect on Salamander.
The grin dropped off his face, eyes clouding over with cautiousness.
"Why do you wanna know?" he grunted. "Not like it matters."
"What if it matters to me?" Feeling bold, Lucy looked him straight in the eye. "I've seen you naked, don't you think courtesy demands we exchange names?"
"Huh." He pulled a face, shooting her a humourless smile. "A lotta people have seen me naked, and no one ever asked for my name."
Lucy bit her lip, regretting her words already. Of course he wouldn't give away his name to any random fling or pretty face. And that was exactly what she was to him.
It was in this moment she remembered a similar conversation from years ago. She'd asked him for his name then, too.
It's better if you don't know.
It made sense to her, if she thought about it. Names held power, and could endanger both its owner and the ones who knew about it.
"Lu, I hate to break up whatever reunion you're having in there, but you have company heading towards the room you ducked into," Levy's voice cracked back to life in Lucy's ear, startling her.
She had almost forgotten Levy was still listening in on the conversation even though she was no longer watching.
Before she could say anything though, Salamander was looking at the door. "Someone's coming."
Lucy had no idea how he was able to hear such faint noises. She only knew because of Levy's eyes on the outside. She figured it was a dragonslayer thing, since Gajeel was the same way. Both seemed highly tuned to their hearing and smell. It made hiding donuts from Gajeel impossible.
"The door locks once it closes." Salamander's hand wrapped around her wrist and he tugged her under the sink. He snagged the sheet off his bed and wiped his face with it, tossing the rest over the pipes to hide her from view, "You've got to catch it before it closes or you'll be stuck in here."
"O-okay," Lucy agreed in a slight panic, trying a weak smile that failed miserably when the doorknob clicked. She flinched, and Salamander nodded curtly before turning away.
Just in time, because in the next moment the door opened, and Lucy held her breath.
"Ready for some fun times, Salamander?" a gruff voice asked, and another laughed not far behind. "Ya already got a booking, ya lucky bastard."
The man everyone called Salamander didn't say anything. Lucy grit her teeth. They were the bastards, and they wouldn't be lucky once she was done with them.
Oh, if she could only help him. Him, and all the others. She had to.
There was nothing she could do for now, but she vowed to herself that she would not lose the track they had finally found, after so many years. She would bring an end to this.
Sounds drifted to her, not all of them identifiable to her. But she assumed they were tying up his hands before leading him off. The door had fallen to a close earlier, but now she heard it open again, and every muscle in her body tensed as she prepared to react as fast as she could.
The steps of the men leaving made the breath hitch in her throat. She swallowed tightly around her tongue, waiting for the door to creak shut behind them.
Daring a glance between the folds of fabric from Salamander's bed, she caught sight of him being led out of the room, his blue cat remaining steadfast at his heels.
The door was heavy and metal, and as it swung shut, it did so too quickly for Lucy in her clumsy dress to catch. Her breath caught and fear froze in her ribs, when there was a surprised grunt from the other side of the door.
She watched a bandaged heel catch the very corner of it, making the metal bounce back from a tan calf.
"What's the hold-up, Salamander?"
"It's nothin'."
Lucy felt a surge of gratitude as she was able to catch the doorknob at the last moment. She chanced a peek out the door, her eyes falling on Salamander's back. He didn't turn around, but something in his shoulders seemed to loosen.
"Thank you," she whispered, hoping he heard.
Her heart kept hammering long after they had left her field of vision. She listened closely, but didn't hear anything.
"Levy," she whispered, "is the way up clear?"
"Yes," came the crackling answer, and Lucy tiptoed out on bare feet before Levy could give her the order.
She scurried up the stairs, panting as she leaned against a wall when she had made it to the top.
"Breathe, Lucy," Levy told her, "you made it."
Smiling in relief, Lucy nodded, crouching down to put her heels back on. She had no mirror to check her appearance, so she had to trust her hands as she fixed her hair and swiped a finger along her lips.
She did not want to go back in there. But she had to, one last time.
For one, she had to sniff around for any information about the ring's schedule she could find, and for another - she had some time to buy.
It was a tweak in their plan, and neither Levy nor Gajeel would like it… but she couldn't help it.
She had to see him again.
And so she strode back into the show hall, accepting a new glass of champagne from a waiter, on the lookout for any of the supervisors and guards.
"Excuse me," she said to a tall, ugly man that stood at the banister, overlooking the now empty pool. She lowered her voice, conspiratorially batting her lashes up at him. "I heard… it's possible to… spend some time with the gentlemen of the ring?"
The man gave one sweeping glance at her (hovering too long on the swells of her breasts), before leaning down slightly. "Miss, yer gonna have to be a bidder like everybody else."
"Oh, I see," Lucy said with a sweet smile, sipping on her champagne. "Would you be so kind as to inform me where this… auction is held?"
The man pointed a fleshy finger towards a podium in the corner of the room, where a small group of people had already gathered. "'Bout half an hour," he informed her.
Lucy turned, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to scrub off her tongue.
"Lucy, what are you doing?" Levy's voice was calm, but she could hear Gajeel swearing in the background. "Shouldn't you be getting out of there? This was good enough for a first try. We have the whole week left."
Concealed by a group of people, Lucy felt it was safe to answer aloud. She kept her tone to a chatty singsong, smiling at a man a bit further away as she spoke. "I'm just making sure I get a ticket for next time, okay? I'm not gonna leave without finding out what this gem of a man has to offer. See you in a bit."
The short man across from her apparently felt himself to be the chosen recipient of her coy expression, advancing on her with a wide, unpleasant smile. His gold watch reflected the light as he stepped closer.
Before he could even open his mouth, Lucy ditched him without another glance at his slimy self.
Mingling with the growing crowd in front of the podium (she was one of the last to still be able to grab a seat), she could do nothing but wait. Not all were actual bidders, the majority just here for entertainment, and probably to badmouth whoever was a topic of gossip in their high society. Rich people rarely were known for their discretion, and more so for their penchant for sensationalism.
Downing the rest of her champagne to calm her nerves, Lucy clutched the number in her hand.
Apparently there had been a bidding at the very start of the event for today's "offers", but for the rest of the week the biddings would be held one day in advance. Meaning, Lucy would try to win Salamander's time and services for tomorrow, probably for a considerable amount of money.
He'd been the star of today's show.
Which was to be expected. Salamander had taken the stage and owned it like a performer would. He had the presence and swagger not many of the other fighters had. She heard other people whisper about it as they gossiped amongst themselves in the bidding hall.
He had passion. A thriving spirit for the sport, not broken in the way the other fighters were. Each challenger he faced was met with equal enthusiasm. A regular blood knight in a hall of squires.
Lucy was unsure how she felt about that, but the idea alone gave her hope in what she was about to do.
When the lights dimmed in the hall, a video reel of the earlier fights played out. They showcased the fighters and purposely left out the ones too injured for their time to be bought.
Paddles went up and down, but she got the impression they were waiting for his fight to show on the screen. Lot number 7.
But she wouldn't let them have it.
Mslead has drawn a comic to illustrate their meeting! It's on her tumblr page.
Special thanks to everyone who reviewed!
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