Here's part two! Enjoy!
In the Bones
Part Two
Natsu turns back to the forge, heat sweltering as he continues to melt down iron for another weapon, a request from Erza for something special. Sneering, he turns away from the fire, eyes rolling. Erza is good for their business, but he can't imagine where she keeps all her weapons or even begin to fathom why she needs so many. Natsu's first blade stayed with him for nearly a decade until he was forced to leave it behind at the lake, the weapon dull and chipped with age.
The weapons are ceremonial to his family, the Dragneel line older than most in the Dragonborne clan. In some stories they even founded the clan, learning their magic from the dragons themselves, their family a long line of fire users. Other legends state that a descendant of the Dreyar family stole lightning from the Gods to defeat a great evil. All are just stories, but the Dragneel line has always taken great pride in their name.
Each of them are gifted a weapon on their tenth birthday and taught how to enchant the metal themselves. Igneel still has his first weapon after thirty odd years, a small dagger with a pearl embedded in the hilt. He takes it with him everywhere, even if he no longer uses it. Even Mikhail, Gajeel's father, still keeps his very first battle axe, though he chose to take his wife's name.
It's odd to him, how Erza seems to discard her weapons when they dull.
Erza's a fierce warrior, even if she can't control elemental magic herself, he won't deny that, but she builds no trust in her weapons with how many she has. Learning to use a blade isn't the same as having faith that it will protect you. In the same way he doesn't trust weapons not made by his hands, he doesn't trust a blade he isn't familiar with, even if the design is similar.
He wouldn't dare tell her that, however. Erza's temper is an awful thing. Perhaps when he was younger he would antagonize her, but he's learned better over the years. He could only suffer so many hits from the older girl before realizing he'd had enough.
Of course, that doesn't stop him from running his mouth around her at times.
He settles into the old, wooden chair he keeps in the forge for slow days. Unlike Gajeel, he's nearly finished his orders for the week, spending nearly every waking hour in the forge since his encounter with Lucy and the Skinwalker. The fire is the only thing that keeps the image of it from his mind, the rotten flesh and inhuman muzzle of the creature burned into his thoughts. It haunts his thoughts and dreams, stealing into his sleep and waking him in the dead of night.
He never would have believed Lucy if he hadn't seen it for himself, and he doubts anyone else would believe what he saw. Gajeel would mock him for his stories and Igneel would think him sick, not that Natsu would blame either of them. He hardly believes himself at times.
The only good to come from the images plaguing him has been his work ethic.
Natsu rolls Lucy's pendant between his fingers, the bone smooth against his calloused fingertips, a calming presence at his side. A distraction. He's been playing with it more recently, ever since they met near the lake that day, nearly a week ago. Ever since he caught a look at their monsters and heard the stories Lucy told him. At times he can hardly believe what he saw and what he heard, a beast dressed in rotting flesh. And the sound it made.
His grip grows tight on the carved bone, a shiver wracking his spine. Natsu has dreams about that sound, the screaming that sounded more animal than man, but like nothing else he has ever heard. It rattled him more than Natsu would ever be willing to admit. And the thought of being chased by one of those things again, of having his skin pulled back and stolen from him, it makes him sick down to his very core.
They stayed in that thicket for what seemed like hours, until the last rays of the sun were dimming in the sky and Lucy warned him that they needed to leave. They hunt at night, she told him, afraid to see themselves in the light. She left him at the edge of the forest, her wolves circling the pair of them as they crept through Dragonborne territory. She was on edge the entire walk, one hand on her weapon, and it was only then that Natsu realized he'd forgotten his own by the water, though he didn't dare go back for it, not so close to dusk.
Cold fingers wrap around his shoulder.
Natsu surges to his feet, knocking over the chair as he whirls around, reaching for the knife at his side and ripping it from its hilt. He nearly spills the boiling metal resting over the fire in his rush, the iron slowly melting down into a malleable substance. It's a foolish move on his part. Despite the magic in his ring, molten iron would still scald him, leaving him scarred from the burns. There's no magic to protect him from that kind of heat.
He clenches Lucy's necklace tightly in his fist.
Natsu stills when he sees Gajeel standing before him, his cousin's hands thrown up in surrender, eyes wide as he stares at Natsu, startled by his near violent reaction. Natsu has been tense lately, though he's loath to admit it. This isn't the first time he's been surprised by Gajeel in the last week. Even Wendy managed to surprise him once, and she's the least threatening person he's ever known.
Gajeel, while concerned for his friends and family, is rarely one to pry unless he deems it necessary. Natsu can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen Gajeel truly ask about someone's well being. It isn't for lack of caring, quite the opposite, in fact. He's just never been the best with words.
"Bit jumpy there, Salamander?" Gajeel jokes, though there's a flicker of concern behind the amusement in his gaze. Natsu sighs when his cousin steps into the forge, peering up at the rows of weapons lining the walls, a greater amount than last week. Gajeel has been catching up, taking Igneel's reprimanding to heart.
Natsu wets his lips. "Something like that," he murmurs, shaking himself as he reaches for the tipped chair. Gajeel watches as he rights it, Natsu feeling his eyes follow the movement. "What do you want, Gajeel?" he snaps, gaze flicking to his cousin for a moment. Gajeel merely shrugs, leaning back against Natsu's workbench and reaching for a jeweled knife Natsu has been working on for days.
Gajeel twirls the knife in his fingers, the rubies embedded in the hilt flickering in the firelight, two dozen of them. It took Natsu hours to find a gemstone large enough to work with, and even longer to cut the pieces. He's better with metalwork than gem cutting, but he managed, not wanting to bring the stone to Jura. As kind as the man is, it would take him a month to cut the stone, ever the perfectionist, and Natsu simply didn't have the patience for it.
"For anyone in particular?" Gajeel asks instead, quirking an impressed brow at the knife. It's slim, more decorative than anything, but Natsu likes the look of it. There's a slight curl to the tip, and a decorative pattern etched into the metal, filigree following the curve of the blade. It's easily one of the nicest things he's made, though he has no purpose for it.
Gajeel weighs the knife in his hands, twisting it between his fingers to see every inch of the blade. "Why?" Natsu jokes, sliding his own knife back into place at his side. A smirk tugs at his lips, amusement flooding through him as Gajeel appraises the blade. His cousin always has been something of a collector. "You looking to make an offer?"
"Hardly," Gajeel scoffs, expression teasing. "I could do better." Natsu will give him that, but it doesn't mean he likes it. "It's pretty. Too decorative for my tastes, but nice enough." Natsu snorts, shaking his head as he turns to the boiling metal, noting that the temperature isn't quite high enough yet.
It's about as close to a compliment as he'll ever get from Gajeel.
Leaving the metal, he swipes the blade from Gajeel's hands, noting the shrewd look in his eyes. As much as Natsu respects his cousin as a forger himself, it doesn't mean he wants Gajeel stealing his designs.
Natsu slips the jeweled knife into his belt, just beside the other, Lucy's pendant still dangling from the hilt, slapping against his hip with every step he takes. He's grown more and more aware of it since he met her in the woods, the pendant heavy at his side, a familiar weight.
It thrums against his hip, flashing in the firelight.
"What do you want, Gajeel?" Natsu questions. "If you're here to criticize my work, you can leave." Natsu tosses him a playful look over his shoulder, fanning the fire with his magic. It's been growing colder lately, winter coming for them, if only briefly. The cold hardly reaches them this far south, nothing more than a nasty chill and the smallest of snowstorms, but in recent years the winter has been growing longer, harsher. Not enough to drive away game or destroy their crops, but it has been concerning.
It's been happening slowly over the last ten years: the nights colder, the snow thicker. It isn't a problem for them, not yet, but if it keeps getting colder…
Natsu shakes his head, raising the fire's temperature to one he likes. Sweat beads at his neck, slipping down his bare chest and dripping to the ground. The heat pricks at his skin to near unbearable temperatures, but he ignores the sweltering feeling, used to the forge's fire. He's been working here since he was a child, his skin has grown thick to the fire.
"Wasn't criticizin'," Gajeel argues, snorting as he glares at Natsu. He reaches for another blade, a hatchet, and surveys it with a critical eye, tracing the shape of it and weighing it in his hands. "If I was criticizin', I'd tell ya the design was weak." He quirks a brow, waving the small hatchet in his hand teasingly and tapping a finger against the warped handle.
Rolling his eyes, Natsu shoots Gajeel a nasty look over his shoulder, to which his cousin merely grins, shrugging off his annoyance. He decides not to respond, knowing better than to feed into Gajeel's mocking. They used to fight wildly when they were younger, tearing apart half the town on bad days.
"Yer mom 's lookin' for ya," he tells Natsu a moment later, still playing with the old hatched in his hands, one Natsu made years ago, back when he was fifteen, maybe younger.
He was going to bring it home for Wendy to look at, his sister nervous about crafting her own weapon for the first time. He's hoping to make her feel better, remind her that they all start out the same way. Gajeel isn't wrong, the design is weak on the hatchet, the proportions off and the blade too thin, brittle.
Natsu glances back at Gajeel, straightening as he frowns. "What does she want?" he asks lowly, brows knitting in concern. His mother rarely seeks him out, always trusting him to be off on his own. Natsu rarely leaves the shop most days, too busy with his work to go venturing into the woods like he used to, though he'd like to explore more of the territory around them.
For Grandine to seek him out something serious must have happened.
Gajeel shrugs, his eyes narrowing just a tick. "Fuck if I know," he grumbles back, crossing his arms and leaning further back against the workbench. He twirls the hatchet between his fingers, tapping the blade with his thumb. "I ran into 'er at the market earlier. Told me to come get you. I didn't ask." He places the weapon back on the table, rolling his shoulders. "Sounded important though, and ya know how yer mom gets."
Something bitter coils in his gut when he thinks about his mother. She worries, he knows, especially lately. He hasn't been home much this last week, spending his nights in the forge with the fires burning hot enough for him to feel it even with his enchanted jewelry. He gained a nasty burn the other night, just below his elbow on his forearm, a novice mistake on his part. He heated the flames with rare fire crystals from the quarry, fanning the flames to unimaginable temperatures, not even the magic in his blood able to protect him.
Igneel would be ashamed of him for it. He should know better after so many years, Igneel taught him better than that. He would never have done it, aware of how powerful the flames can be, but he remembered what Lucy said, about how those beasts fear the light.
Natsu nods, sighing as he turns away from the fire, the early morning glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, like monsters rising up from the earth to swallow them. He and Gajeel used to play a game with the forge when they were much younger, the fire would roar and they would scream back, fierce as they fought back the monster hiding in the fire, the pair of them great warriors for their clan.
Their fathers would only laugh and smile, encouraging them to fight the invisible monsters that only they could see. It was a game then, but Natsu doesn't see the fun in fighting monsters anymore, not when he's seen real ones.
He glances at Gajeel, feeling his cousin's eyes on him, and Natsu's met with a frown, Gajeel's expression pensive, shrewd. There's a question in his eyes, but Gajeel doesn't ask and Natsu doesn't answer. Their eyes lock for a long, heavy moment, and Natsu looks away first, unable to stand the concern in Gajeel's gaze. He doesn't want to make them worry, least of all Gajeel, his stoic cousin more likely to punch him than hug him.
"I should go," he murmurs, pushing away from the bench. Natsu takes a step towards the exit, only looking back to peer at the still melting iron above the fire, Erza's order still heating into something malleable. He can't just leave it to burn, not wanting to risk it spilling or setting fire to the forge. Natsu's gaze flicks to Gajeel, his cousin still staring at him. "Will you watch it for me?" he asks slowly. "The plans are on my desk." He jerks his chin towards the back, the wooden desk overflowing with plans, though only one stands out, spread across the wooden surface carefully.
Gajeel nods, but says nothing else, though Natsu wasn't expecting him to. He exits the forge without another word, leaving Gajeel behind. Natsu feels Gajeel's eyes following him as he goes, the weight of his gaze heavy as Natsu steps out of the forge and its sweltering heat. Sweat clings to him, a smoky smell hanging in the air, and he takes a moment to breathe in the sweet tasting air for the first time in days.
A violent cough wracks his body as the crisp, clean air tickles his throat and lungs. It takes him a moment to compose himself, but eventually the breeze becomes more soothing than harmful, his lungs adjusting to the freshness.
The walk back to his family home is long, but passes quickly, Natsu lost in his thoughts. The forges are located closer to the center of town then his parents home near the edge of the forest. They live in a quiet place, far from the bustle of town, in a house Igneel built himself near twenty years ago, back when he first asked Grandine to marry him.
It never used to bother him, the woods behind his home, the shadows cast by the trees, and the sound of the wind ripping through the leaves, branches tapping against the windows. Now, a small, irrational, part of him is afraid to go home, afraid to look outside and see the looming shadows behind his house.
It's silly of him, and Natsu feels a pull of anger in his gut whenever he thinks of his reluctance to return home, where there's nothing to do but dwell on his thoughts and picture the creature in the woods. It shouldn't scare him as much as it did. Igneel taught him to be braver than that.
He misses his family, and his cat, and he misses sleeping in his bed. He hasn't stopped working for days, hardly finding the time to rest, and only now do his limbs feel heavy, his muscles aching from overuse.
It's time he goes home.
A shadow moves across the window as he walks along the stone path, small and too far away to make out clearly, but he knows it's Wendy in an instant, the shape too short to be his mother and too solid to be a trick of the light. A grin pulls at his mouth, and Natsu presses his lips together to smother his smile as the figure disappears from sight.
He isn't able to manage it for long.
The front door is thrown open wide, wood crashing against the stone wall of the house with so much force it could splinter. "Natsu!" a familiar voice shouts, Wendy a blur as she bolts towards him, nearly tripping over herself in her rush to get to him. The smile on her face squeezes something in his chest, and the ache leaves his limbs as his sister crashes into him.
Natsu stumbles back, gasping as Wendy's full weight slams into him, her arms curling around him tightly. She clings to his neck, skinny limbs locking around his, as if afraid he might let go. Natsu chuckles as he wraps her up in a hug, lifting her straight off the ground and spinning her in a tight circle. Wendy giggles in his ear, shrieking with laughter as her hair whips around them, tickling at his nose.
Eventually, he settles, ceasing his swinging and lowering Wendy back to the ground. He's reluctant to release her entirely, gaze locked on the woods behind her as he keeps her tucked close against him. Similarly, Wendy refuses to let him go, squeezing him tighter when he moves to step away.
"You're back," she whispers against his ear, fingers twisting in the damp fabric of his scarf, looped loosely around his throat. Wendy pushes up on her toes to get a better grip on him, trembling with the effort to hold herself upright. A twinge of guilt stabs at him, Natsu wincing as he wraps his own arms tighter around her, unsure if she can feel the apology in his embrace.
He twists to press a kiss against the side of her head. "Course I am," he murmurs against her, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "I've just been busy." It isn't quite a lie, but it feels like one. He hadn't meant to worry Wendy, or anyone else, he just needed time to think.
Wendy nods against his chest, fisting at his scarf, and finally pulls back enough to meet his eyes. Natsu stills when her dark brown eyes lock with his, an uncomfortable prickling sensation working its way up his spine. He has to force himself not to look away from her, unnerved by her intense gaze. Wendy always has had an odd way of seeing through lies, knowing exactly when something's bothering him.
It's why he's been so reluctant to come home recently, sure that Wendy would take one look at him and know exactly what he saw in the woods, why he's been hidden away in the forge all week. Only, he doesn't want her knowing, having to keep that image locked away inside her mind for days. What he saw in the woods rattled him to his core, and Natsu knows Wendy is more sensitive than him, afraid of her own shadow when it creeps up behind her.
Her eyes meet his, expression blank for a long moment as she stares, peeling back the layers of his thoughts. Natsu forces a smile onto his lips, trying not to squirm, pinned by her gaze, and Wendy suddenly smiles in return, the pensive look in her eyes disappearing as quickly as it came. Natsu releases a relieved breath, relaxing only the slightest, aware of her watching him, but Wendy only lurches back into his embrace, dragging him into another tight embrace.
"I'm glad you're home," she mumbles against his ear, squeezing him around the waist and propping her chin against his shoulder. Her breath puffs against the side of his face, something slick and wet slipping down his neck. It's with a wince that Natsu realizes she's crying.
Natsu cards his fingers through her hair, leaning back just enough to look at her face. "Hey now," he whispers, tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. "None of that," Natsu chides teasingly, wiping a wayward tear from her face. "You know I'll always come back, right?" Wendy sniffs, but nods, and Natsu grins down at her, ruffling her hair. "Atta girl!"
Wendy steps away from him, giggling madly, and shrieks when he reaches out to tug on a strand of her hair. She swats at him, puffing up her cheeks, and a surge of affection sweeps through his chest as he stares down at his pouting younger sister, her eyes sparkling with humor.
"Mom is going to kill you," she teases him, reaching out and catching one of his hands in both of hers, something reminiscent of a smirk tugging at her lips as she tugs him a step towards the house.
Natsu casts a wary look at the woods behind the stone house, watching the shadows as they flit through the trees, taking shape into a monstrous form. He blinks and the shadows are gone, sunlight spilling through the branches, the sun high in the sky.
He turns back to Wendy, a silly smile on his face. "Oh? And why would Mom do that?" he jokes. Natsu reaches out to pinch Wendy's nose, and she squeaks as she ducks out of the way, slapping at his hand, her grip tightening on the fingers laced through hers. She frowns at him, huffing, and Natsu chuckles, amused by her disgruntled expression.
Wendy rolls her eyes instead of replying, snorting softly, and Natsu knows he's in trouble even before Wendy pulls him in through the front door. His mother, Grandine, rarely ever seeks him out unless something serious has happened, trusting him to come home and take care of himself. For her to send Gajeel to find him is concerning, as is the sudden shadow that crosses Wendy's face.
Her eyes slip to the floor, hand tightening around his. Her nails dig into the back of his hand to the point of pain, and Natsu frowns as he follows Wendy into the dark house, the front room eerily silent and colder than usual. His gaze travels along the stone walls, the hearth devoid of fire and the room too quiet, as if he's stepped into a home for ghosts. Wendy releases his hand, but Natsu catches her before she can leave, unwilling to be alone in the home that doesn't feel like his own.
"Wendy," he murmurs, crouching in front of his sister so that he has to look up at her, only barely meeting her gaze as she stares at her feet, avoiding his eyes. He squeezes her fingers, a crease forming between his brows when he watches the rapid flicker of emotions crossing her face: confusion, terror, something melancholy that makes his stomach flip. He doesn't like the look that crosses her face, Wendy beginning to tremble as she clasps his hand between both of hers. "Wendy, what's wrong?" Natsu brushes his thumb along her knuckles, hoping to coax her into looking at him, but she only shakes her head.
Her eyes meet his, teary, and his breath catches.
"It's Acnologia, isn't it?" he whispers, a growl to his tone as he thinks about their clan leader. He hasn't seen much of the man in the last week, though Natsu hasn't left the forge most of the week. He should have been paying more attention to what was happening, but he's been so distracted lately. Acnologia always has been a tricky man, violent and brash, and he's threatened families before to get what he wants. Igneel is his greatest adversary for head of the clan, the rightful successor chosen by Makarov, and Natsu remembers being threatened before to keep his father in line.
Natsu trembles with anger, his lips curving back when he sees Wendy nod, her hands finally leaving his to wrap around herself protectively, making herself smaller. A lick of anger burns in his veins, Natsu clenching his fists tightly as he thinks of what the man may have done, who he may have hurt now.
His only relief is that Wendy is fine. Shaken, perhaps, but unharmed. And he thinks his mother must be as well, knowing Wendy wouldn't jest in such a poor situation. Acnologia wouldn't dare harm Igneel, not when everyone in town knows of their hatred for each other. The clan won't stand for murder.
"What did he do?" Natsu snaps. His nails dig into his palms hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn't feel it beneath the swirl of anger in his chest. The smallest flicker of flames lick at his knuckles, the fire harnessed within his bones spilling through the cracks in his calm façade. It tingles against his skin, warm, but not overwhelmingly so.
Wendy takes a step away from him, eyeing the flames warily, and he winces, trying futilely to calm himself, his blood boiling as white hot rage curls through him. Natsu takes a breath to calm himself, not wanting to scare her, but he can't stop his hands from trembling.
A floorboard to his right creaks, the only warning he gets before another presence enters the room, a willowy figure towering over him. "What he always does," a familiar voice tells him. Natsu glances up in time to see his mother sigh, her expression weary and her face more gaunt than usual, eyes hollow when she looks at him.
"Mom," he whispers, rising from his crouch and turning away from Wendy, who glances between them slowly, lip caught between her teeth. Natsu looks down at his mother, Grandine a head shorter than him, her pale, wispy white hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. She tilts her chin to look at him, managing a smile for only a moment before it disappears as quickly as it came.
She reaches out to him, hands so pale he can see the blue spider-veins tracing across the backs of her hands and along her wrists. She cups his face with gentle hands, thumbs brushing along his cheeks lovingly. Her fingers tremble so fragile, but he's seen those same hands shatter glass and snap bones.
Grandine pulls him down so that his forehead is pressed to hers, a familiar greeting between the Dragonborne, and Natsu sighs as she strokes his cheeks. "I'm glad you're home," she whispers, so soft he almost doesn't hear her, her words a caress.
He nods, throat closing as she releases him, dropping back to her heels to send him a tired smile. "I never meant to stay away," he chokes out, guilt eating away at his insides when he sees the fear reflected in her gaze.
Acnologia came looking for them again, he can tell by the look in her eyes. And when he didn't come home it must have terrified them. He winces, shame eating at him, but he shoves it back down, knowing it does them little good. Natsu should have come home earlier. Even if they knew where to find him, he still should have come back.
Grandine smiles then, hands slipping from his face. Natsu ducks his head, unable to meet her eyes, but she only grasps his hands in hers, squeezing him tightly. "I know," she tells him, releasing one of his hands to pat him on the cheek.
"Where's Dad?" Natsu asks her, glancing over Grandine's shoulder to peer into the rest of the house, searching for his father's tall frame. Igneel isn't there, the house too quiet because of it, and Natsu knows before his mother responds that the man is still in town, perhaps at another one of Acnologia's war councils, helping plot ways to drive away the Spiritwalkers.
For a moment his thoughts drift to Lucy, the way she helped him, saved him, and how her people are only trying to survive, running away from their monsters. A sick feeling curls in his gut as he imagines what Acnologia might do to her. Lucy is an influential figure in her clan, next in line after her aunt, if he remembers correctly, and Acnologia does wicked things to those who challenge his power.
Acnologia would kill her, or perhaps worse, and it leaves a filthy taste in his mouth. He hardly knows Lucy, but he would never enjoy seeing her hurt in such vile ways. Acnologia is renowned for his cruelty, a vicious leader that seems more animal than man.
It makes him sick to think about.
"He should be home soon," she tells him, smiling slightly. Wendy takes a step forward, and Grandine smiles down at her, reaching out to stroke her hair. "The was a meeting earlier," Grandine says lowly, the underlying meaning not lost to any of them. A war council.
Igneel always comes home furious after they're done, disgusted by Acnologia and his ways. Natsu rarely goes to the meetings, not wanting to hear such disgusting things coming from his clansmen: murdering children in their beds and burning people alive. He'll never understand how people can be so cruel.
Grandine takes a step back from him, eyeing him critically suddenly and places her hands on her hips, expression stern as she looks up at him. "You're filthy," she chides suddenly, squinting at him and wrinkling her nose. "Did you leave the forge at all in the last week?" It sounds less like a question and more like an accusation, Grandine clucking her tongue at him as observes his tired eyes and the layers of sweat clinging to him.
Her gaze makes him itch, Natsu shifting like a scolded child. She's always been able to do this to him, adult or not, he'll always feel a burn of shame when she observes him like this, picking him apart in the way only family can.
His silence must be answer enough, because she sighs, shaking her head. Wendy giggles beside her, expression impish as she looks up at Natsu, barely hiding her grin behind her hand. "Go wash up," Grandine orders, smile fond as she shakes her head in his direction. "Lunch should be ready soon."
Natsu grins and leans down to press a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek.
It's later, when Natsu is lying in his bed and rolling Lucy's bone pendant between his fingers that he allows his thoughts to drift back to the Spiritwalker and their curious meeting. It was unlike anything he would have expected, which says little. She's the last person he would have expected to find in the woods, their brief history enough to sour any previous thoughts he had of her.
Slowly, he glances around the room, gaze dragging along the walls and the animal skins tossed across his bed. A jar of dragon teeth sit on his desk, metal chains littering the space, necklaces waiting to be made. While he spends much of his time in the forges, jewelry making has always been a hobby of his. There's something cathartic about stringing the teeth together to create something special.
Teeth are what he mainly uses, though Natsu has takes stones from the quarry in the past, fighting through the sand vipers and their venom to find precious gems to carve. Typically, it's only those searching for betrothal stones that brave the quarry, no one else willing to risk such a task, but Natsu has ventured down the cliffs several times.
He enjoys carving stone, liking the feel of it beneath his hands, It's harder to carve than bone or tooth, but the challenge makes it more fun in his eyes. It seems to matter more, when the gem is harder to cut.
He's given them as gifts before, mostly to his family. Carved stones aren't meant for just anyone, only those most precious.
Natsu lazily drags a finger down the tuft of bluish-gray fur nestled against his chest, Happy curled tight against him. The little cat purrs in response to his touch, and Natsu grins despite himself, still playing with the bone between his fingers, observing it with a keen gaze.
For a moment, he wonders where Lucy found it, or if perhaps she carved it herself. He wouldn't doubt her skill, knowing better than to underestimate her. Perhaps it was passed down in her family, the bone seeming very old, though still strong. Natsu entertains the idea of asking her, but knows it's unlikely they'll ever meet again under friendly terms.
Natsu would never say he knows Lucy well, having only met her a few times in passing, during meetings between their people, back before Acnologia began rallying for war. The Spiritwalkers came to the Summerlands only five years ago, though there clans have a very long, very complicated history together. It was the Dragonborne that originally drove them to the north near twenty years ago, if the stories are correct. The returned half a decade ago, and the first real fights between their clans came soon after, mostly border skirmishes. Makarov and the Spiritwalker leader, Anna, came to an agreement that took three days and two nights to settle.
That was the first time he ever saw Lucy. She was younger than him, though not by much, and smiled when she saw him. There was a fox near her feet, but he didn't realize until later that she was a Bone Witch, the spirit a familiar to her, padding after her like a shadow.
She fascinated him, her and her summon, and at first Natsu wasn't sure what else to think. She didn't seem dangerous or violent or any of the other stories he'd heard in the past, and when she smiled at him he couldn't help but smile back.
The first true fight between their clans occurred only three years ago, during the turbulent period when Acnologia took control. The first thing he did was declare war on the Spiritwalkers, calling them vile things and warning them that if they didn't strike first, the witches would. Natsu was younger then, eighteen and so ready to fight, and he didn't think twice about starting a war. He would do anything to protect his people, even if some of the things Acnologia has done leaves a sick feeling curling through his stomach.
Back then, Natsu never had much interest in speaking with Lucy. Not at first, when all he knew was she summoned spirits through bones, a witch. As a child he'd been told stories of her kind, of the twisted things they could do to a person through their bones, using them like puppets, how they could raise the dead and force families to fight their loved ones. An unholy power, that's what Acnologia called it. He said if they didn't push back the witches, they would kill ever Dragonborne in the Summerlands. And they all believed him. And he certainly wanted nothing to do with her after she bested him in their fight, in part because of a wounded pride. He learned her name and that she walked with spirits and there was nothing else that mattered.
No, they never talked much besides clipped conversations and biting words from him, but he watched her.
There was always something fascinating about the way she moved, so light on her feet, expression always twisted into something like vague amusement despite the weariness in her gaze, exhaustion seeming to blanket her. Her smile was so bright that it always gained his attention, beckoning him closer. The first time she saw him after they fought, Natsu could swear he saw an apology in her gaze, some kind of shame when she looked at the scar on his throat, but it was gone before he could be sure.
He would never admit aloud the shame he feels deep in his chest whenever he sees the matching scar on her throat, smaller, thinner, but still marring her skin. He could have killed her that day, just as easily as she could have killed him, and that leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.
War is war, but it doesn't excuse the things they've done in the name of it. He's always enjoyed a good fight, the thrill of battle, but he wouldn't relish in Lucy's death in the way others would.
As a child he was told stories of her people, of the wonders they could do. Makarov always respected them, speaking to the town children of their magic, it was only after Acnologia took control that the legends were warped into something more vile. He's only begun thinking about it recently, how much the stories have changed. It doesn't make him trust the Bone Witches anymore than he does now. He's seen them fight, how powerful and dangerous they are with their monsters that can't be killed, their spirits near unbeatable so long as their master still breathes.
They aren't innocent in this war. They've done terrible things: burning down homes on the edge of Dragonborne territory to make room for themselves, sending their beasts after hunters and leaving men ripped to pieces in the woods. And they brought monsters with them, lead them from the north to the Summerlands where they can feast and slaughter.
The Bone Witches may have started as refugees from the north, terrified and weakened from fighting the Skinwalkers, but their warriors are just as brutal as Natsu's.
He respects Lucy more than most, but as much as she fascinates him, he doesn't trust her. She may have saved his life in the forest, but only after threatening it.
Natsu rolls the carved pendant between his fingers again, lifting it into the light so he can see it clearly. He never took the time to study it, the bone feeling alive against his skin in a way that unnerved him. He never showed it to anyone, though the Dragonborne take spoils of war more often than not. If he showed it to anyone, Acnologia would take it, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
It's small against his palm, thin and curved, circular. The pendant is stark white and plain, save for a hint of faded blue paint, shaped into three tiny, curled waves carved into the bone. A symbol for the ocean. It's delicate, fragile enough to snap if he squeezed too tightly, but there's a power inside it. It thrums beneath his touch, something clawing to get out. He drags a finger across the smooth surface, wondering what sort of spirit remains locked inside.
A terribly powerful one, he would guess. He knows little on the Bone Witches customs, but he's learned that the more powerful the bones, the closer they're kept, made into jewelry or something innocuous, hidden in plain sight. Necklaces, bracelets, bone weaved into the fabric of their clothes, all easy to miss at first glance. It's why they were losing fights with the witches at first. They couldn't figure out how they were summoning their spirits, which couldn't be killed by their weapons.
The spirits can only be defeated when their masters are slaughtered or their bones ground into dust.
He's seen countless Spiritwalkers slain, their throats cut and their bodies burned until all that's left is their bones. Natsu isn't sure what becomes of their bones. He's never stayed to watch. Acnologia does something with them, buries them or grinds them up, he would guess.
Natsu's fingers curl around the bone necklace in his hand, tracing the wave pattern carved into the top and twirling the silver chain around his hand, the metal biting at his skin. The original yarn was severed and mangled years ago, and Natsu threw it out when the fibers kept snapping, afraid he might lose the pendant if he wasn't careful.
Not for the first time, he considers giving it back to her, but Natsu brushes the thought aside quickly. There's no sense in giving an enemy a powerful spirit to fight with, even if it does belong to her. She may have killed members of his clan with the demon inside this bone, perhaps friends of his, and she would simply do it again if he gave it back. While he doubts she would attack him outright, recalling what she said to him when they last met, but meeting in battle is another thing entirely.
He wouldn't dare put others at risk for a girl he barely knows or cares for.
Shaking himself, Natsu shoves the pendant into his pocket, holding the carved bone for a moment too long before releasing it entirely, the silver chain slipping from his fingers slowly. He doesn't tie it back to his knife, afraid of his fingers wandering back to it once again.
AN: Ummm? Thank you so much for all the fantastic feedback last chapter! I really appreciate it and wasn't expecting nearly as much! Expect chapters at least once per month, and disregard the estimated length from last chapter, as this will probably be a longer AU lmao
Have a lovely week everyone!
