Boom! Finally got this updated! I said I'd be working on it after the last Flame's Desire update. I meant for this to be posted before July Hit, but I was moving to a new state and things got hectic. Anyway, please enjoy!

It wasn't a prank. No matter how much Lucy begged for it to be.

What started as a raise to Lucy's ire and disbelief soon derailed to utter bafflement with begrudging yet confused acceptance not far behind. The constant assurance from the others claiming that a practical joke to the degree of hiring a man feigning to be stone for a day was ludicrous. She knew it, of course, but was still desperately grasping at straws to explain the unexplainable. To have anything make the slightest inkling of sense. Only a day later, she caved to reality, not finding any logic behind her earlier assumptions.

The impossible had happened.

A stone man stepped out of time off his pedestal into the world of the living. He coughed dust from his lungs and stumbled about on very real legs of flesh and bone. And his appetite, to everyone's dismay, was voracious. Once he drank all the water he could, they fed him in small amounts despite his complaints for more. Mostly it was to stop him from choking on his food, but also to make sure he didn't get sick from too much at once. Unfortunately, they underestimated the amount of times he'd end up whining for seconds. Even thirds.

No, not whine: demand.

If not for his inability to walk a straight line, Lucy or any of her peers would have gladly taken away the ability for him. (Gray had threatened it twice, with the same rock he'd brandished the day before that he kept close at hand.)

He spoke as if they would respond to every beck and call, haughty commands that he thought left no room for arguments, expecting them to serve him at any given moment.

When they didn't, he attempted to complete the task himself. More food? Explain the odd clothes in the nearest suitcase? Each time ended the same: A huffing so-called Prince struggling to rise, tripping over their luggage, boxed implements and tents. His own curiosity could not outweigh his frustrations as his tendency to drag himself to the doors to 'inspect the grounds' ended in failure. His incessant claims to nobility fried their nerves as his demands grew by the minute. A brat, Lucy had said - Gray and Levy muttering in annoyed agreement- and Freed, choosing not to add to the assessment vocally, merely nodded his quiet confirmation.

And yet…

"Lucy, sit down, you can relax beside me." He said once and patted the cushion he had claimed when Lucy's confused pacing had made her dizzy.

"I asked for the half-naked jester to move my things, not Lucy." He had snapped another time when Lucy dragged a spare sleeping bag out for him.

He scrunched his nose when she offered to prepare dinner. "Why are you making Lucy cook?" He pointed to the others, frowning, "Do it yourself. She's not your chef!"

His entire character turned a 180 the moment recognition lit in his eyes and leaked into his voice. A bias that made Lucy uncomfortable, awkwardly so. And the entire group was quick to notice.

It was a whirlwind. One that Lucy didn't wish to ride. The earlier excitement of navigating new ruins had soured with the treatment of this so-called Prince; with his pushy demands and constant need for assistance. It sprouted a dreadful headache just behind her eyes.

Fortunately, all he needed had been a day to recuperate. His strength returned, each step less clunky than the last, and his ability to move around reminded Lucy of a child with a never ending source of energy. He couldn't sit still for longer than five minutes. And he, much to their chagrin, couldn't keep his curious fingers away from most of their things.

Even so, his stamina–apparently drained after disuse, sent him back to the floor again after less than thirty minutes of movement, which in his eyes was barely any time at all. It was becoming difficult to keep his mood level after his energy was spent so quickly and even more so keeping him away from the many implements and notes they'd brought along with them for the survey.

When Levy decided to finally make her way into the decaying Library, Lucy dove on the opportunity to join her. Anything to get away from the mysterious man that kept ordering her to stick close to him.

"Erm, no offense, Lu," Levy mumbled, fingers twitching as she wavered in and out of the doorway, "But it might be best if you stay behind until he's a little less.. Um, clingy?"

Her eyebrows moved, gesturing towards the formerly stone prince as he rushed to stand, ready to demand Lucy's presence once more. "With his legs half as wobbly as they are, it's safer for him not to go near any of the books or anything in there really. Especially if there's anything salvageable, don't you think?"

Lucy's heart sank, realizing the wisdom behind the statement, but still disappointed all the same. "Ugh, can't we just…call someone to get him? Clearly, he needs a hospital or something."

"Yes, I'm sure they'd love to hear, 'please, get this man who's been asleep for 500 years to the nearest ICU. No, we're not prank calling you, honest!' I bet that would go over nicely."

Lucy snorted at Levy's sarcasm, but the shorter girl was just as stubborn as she could patted Lucy's shoulder in support. "I know it's rough, but…maybe with him less likely to pass out from hunger, he'll be willing to listen to you. It doesn't hurt to try, right?"

"Ugh, but he's so-" looking back at him, she flinched when he shouted another order at Gray, who snarled from his tent, ready to commit murder. Lucy quietly hoped he didn't have that rock nearby "-that."

"Oye, Lucy! " Natsu called, voice echoing. "Take me with you, I don't want to smell this guy any longer then I have to-"

Gray shouted from his tent, "I'm not the one who hasn't BATHED in 500 years, you prick-"

"All right, all right," Lucy hastily said, shoving Levy out the door, "At least take Freed with you while I deal with this."

"I KNEW you'd understand!" Levy gushed, winking conspiratorially. "I'll tell you everything when I get back."

"Yeah, yeah- "

Lucy regretted her decision within the first ten minutes.

Not only was the 'sleeping prince' so abrasive to Gray that the half-naked man rushed out the doors - shouting about exploring the remnants of an aviary but without any tools in hand or a shirt much less -, but his obvious attachment to her meant she couldn't move five feet without his immediate questions raining down on her.

Where are you going? Why are you pacing? Just what are you doing with those old books? How do any of these strange mechanisms work? Is it magic? Are you - on and on the questions came until she'd all but given up on any work she could manage in the room.

Sending a rueful glance back towards the door, she yearned for the chance to explore.

"Traitor," she muttered under her breath, thinking of Gray's quick departure, envious of those free to work while she remained grounded by a child stuck out of time. Coming here had been a dream come true. Now, she was reduced to a mere lookout and babysitter to someone who shouldn't even be here.

The realization rankled her, nerves firing in agitation as an oddly quiet Natsu leaned heavily against the lawn chair they'd brought with them, and began to fiddle with the thin fabric of his clothes. The light tearing of the aged silk pulled Lucy's attention back to him and watched him frown at the hole in his sleeve, disconcerted by the apparent state of his clothes.

"I guess this is just further proof then," he grumbled, voice a morose contradiction compared to his earlier imposing attitude. "I've….. really been asleep for a long time, haven't I?"His rueful expression, eyes filled with a doubt that replaced his earlier confidence, sobered Lucy, who examined his clothes curiously.

While a statue, his clothes had been pristine, immaculate. However, unlike him, they had begun to match their age, slowly deteriorating to loose threads that became stiff and brittle. Noticing the one tear, led to her catching a glimpse of more littering his pants and tunic, making him look bedraggled rather than a noble.

"We'll have to get you some clothes," she answered, and swatted his hand away from playing with the new found hole in his sleeve. "Stop that! Do you want to make it worse?"

"Oi," he squawked, imperious gaze flicking to hers in offense. "Who said you can touch- agh, you know what? Never mind. It doesn't matter." His ire died as quickly as it came, eyes revealing an exhaustion beyond his apparent years.

Well, that…was not expected.

Gnawing her lip, she met his gaze, stubbornly refusing to give an inch as she examined the cloth. "It's finely crafted. Or was, I guess. But, unless you want to be naked before we can find replacements, you're going to have to get used to being told no, buddy."

"Tch.. that's hardly the issue." Glancing towards the nearest wall, he frowned deeply, examining the room, shoulders slouched. "Igneel would hate this."

"Who?"

"You know who." He stressed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Pausing, he caught himself and backpedaled. "Wait, no. No you don't. You're not her."

Sighing, he held his legs up against himself and grumbled. "The King. My…my dad. This was his office. He would have never allowed it to get like this."

Lucy didn't stop to think before the words were already tumbling from her mouth, "I don't think the dead have much control over-"

The gaze he cast her way cut her off, the words dying in her throat as the blatant mourning that watered the edges of his green eyes. "You don't get it." He whispered, but she caught it all the same. It was a voice that desperately choked back a deep, consuming sorrow.

Oh.

Shame filled the depths of her stomach like rocks. Swallowing thickly, she bit her lip, wincing as she turned her gaze away. She couldn't look him in the eye. Not after that.

No one deserved such insensitivity, especially not an out-of-time Prince mourning the loss of everyone he once knew. "Sorry, that was…I worded that poorly."

There were questions burning at the tip of her tongue. What sort of king had his father been? Did the people love them? What could have possibly put the castle into such a state that no history books covered its existence? How had he become stone in the first place? The reality that set upon Lucy's shoulders made her almost delirious and dizzy, but she reigned in the urge to submerge him in too many questions. His predicament confused her enough as is. She couldn't imagine herself in his shoes, trying to figure it all out only to be bombarded with a multitude of questions.

"Tell me about….Lucy." She opted for this instead. To serve as some form of distraction. A safe question that still could give her something. He glanced at her, cocking a brow in confusion. "Obviously, I look a bit like her, and it sounds like we shared the same last name, but I was never told my family had nobility."

She hadn't expected the weakened Prince to answer her, not after her thoughtlessness. She half expected his snappy mood to return full force, but he took the distraction with ease. His lips pulled into a frown as he mulled over the question. "Her hair's longer by a lot, but usually she had it up in a lot of braids and in some kinda thing the maids called a…snead?"

Lucy, mystified by his choice in words, decided he certainly didn't mean the shaft or handle of a scythe. "You mean a snood?"

"Yeah, that. I saw her take it off once, complaining it gave her headaches. I couldn't figure out how she didn't accidentally sit on her hair when it was down. It was that long." He shrugged, eyes glancing over her in one fell swoop, looking for other differences.

"She visited a lot, being the daughter of a Duke and all. He came to call constantly, discussing business with my father. She was… uh…" Scratching the back of his head, his expression became uncertain, eyes clouded over from the memories, "I think we were… friends?"

"Isn't that something you'd usually know?" she prompted, watching the myriad of emotions that flickered behind his narrowed eyes.

"It's complicated," he grimaced. "Her dad wanted us to get married, but uh, we knew each other since we were kids, so it was strange."

"Sounds perfectly normal for royalty and nobles." But also awkward, she thought, considering they were discussing a girl that looked exactly like her, but she kept that to herself.

"Maybe, but he also tried to marry her off to every other lord in the area."

Now it was her turn to grimace. "I may love history, but that's the one thing that always bothered me. Please tell me he didn't try to make her marry some old dude."

He snorted, "Just their sons. Not that they are any better." She chose not to comment on his use of present tense.

That was a relief. Somewhat. "So, was she interested in any of them?"

That question spurred an odd expression to stiffen his features.

He shifted restlessly, took another look around the room, and unexpectedly jumped to his shaky feet. When he almost fell into her, she sprang to her feet, balancing him from the side. Her voice raised in pitch , but he didn't respond, just looked towards the exit as if the stale air was suffocating.

"You wanted to explore more, didn't you?" he asked, the question tumbling from his lips once it became clear she wasn't about to let him go off on his own. "How about we get some air? I'll behave. Honest."

Lucy wasn't sure how much she could trust that statement, but found it hard to deny him. After all, he was right. She did want to see the rest of the grounds, and if Levy wouldn't let her go with, then why not take him along on her own venture?

"Sure. If we go far enough, we might be able to find some spare clothes for you." They may get lucky along the way and find a few of Gray's things scattered about the path. And if that didn't pan out she was certain they left behind extra items in the van. - but how would this embodiment of 'blast from the past' react to a horseless carriage? She giggled at the thought.

At Natsu's questioning stare, she waved him off. Glancing back towards the makeshift camp they'd made for themselves. Freed and Levy would be gone for hours and knowing Gray, he'd find other things to keep his interest before having to return. It was possible they'd return before the others knew of their venture. To be safe, Lucy moved to jot down a note, hastily leaving it tacked to the front of her own tent. There, now they won't be confused if they return first! Lucy mentally cheered her own quick thinking and marched back to the doors, gesturing for the Prince to follow.

If she noticed the knitted brow and curious stare he gave in response, she didn't bring it up.

The trip was slow going.

With uneven floors tripping Natsu up every other shaky step, he caused Lucy to stumble with him as he clung to her like a cane. The two barely made good time. Down the decrepit halls they dusty, moth-eaten paintings stole Lucy's attention, gazing in wonder at the crumbling canvases while Natsu frowned, irritated by their poor state. He'd stop in his tracks for each one, muttering furiously about their original details lost to the ages, before moving on faster than Lucy was ready, only to curse when he toppled over his feet all over again. It was a repeating pattern and Lucy suspected, with a heavy pang in her chest, that anger was easier to express than the grief that dragged his shoulders down.

They came across other passageways or doors leading to old, caved-in rooms and he'd peek his head around the corner or through the doorways with a crinkle of his nose, unimpressed by the scent of rotting wood and dust. Lucy tried to pick his brain, asked if he remembered the rooms and what they used to be. Each time he'd answer, but his replies were often distant and hollow, unsure as he failed to grasp the foggy memories.

She got the impression he wouldn't have had much more to say either. His mind was weak on more than just his sleeping arrangements, as if memories fell from his mind in fractured pieces he couldn't fit back together. Each new attempt to recall his past formed an irritated tick in his forehead and his scowl took a near-permanent residence on his face.

"You were asleep for a very long time," Lucy consoled when he failed to remember what she could only assume was a drawing room for guests. "Maybe you just need some more time for it to come back to you?"

This didn't mollify him as much as she hoped, but he nodded nonetheless, stubbornly pushing from her shoulders to traverse the entry hall on his own, hand causing a trail of dust as he steadied himself against the wall. She resisted the urge to chase him. Perhaps it was better to let him stand on his own until he no longer could.

"None of this looks right," he grumbled, his mounting frustration evident. The Prince paused halfway through the hall to stare at a fallen chandelier resting lamely on its side. It was larger than he was tall, once pristine crystals yellowed with age, but the rusted metal still held onto a hint of its former opulence as hints of gold peeked through the decay."Five hundred years…has it really been so long?" The whisper stuck in his throat as though the realization finally sank in now that the evidence lay crumbling before him. She wasn't sure if he meant for her to hear him.

"We didn't lie about the current year," she answered, almost offended. "But we all agreed that this place looks good considering its age. You'd think it wouldn't be this sturdy anymore."

"Guess that just shows how great the architects were in my time," he boasted, a confident grin finally lighting up his once dark expression. Unfortunately, she noticed it didn't reach his eyes.

Exhaling a sharp laugh, Lucy peeked out the large, creaky, double doors that barely hung on their single hinges, and spied the outer courtyard with a soft smile.

It was devoid of buildings , but she could see where each statue once belonged, where each bush had been carefully tended to. Just imagining what it looked like back in its heyday filled her with an enchanted awe.

"Sure, we can go with that." She answered his boast with a poor attempt to mask her condescension. His pride in his own home was endearing, she could admit, but she truly didn't think the slow aging of the castle had anything to do with the architecture.

He tsked, catching the tone, but held off on replying. He moved to join her instead, leaning over her to look into the yard. While he carefully stepped around the doors, Lucy thought she saw his body waver despite the strong, confident steps he took. A shimmer went over his form becoming translucent and fading in places. For a moment he looked as he truly should be, a ghost out of time traversing his fallen grounds. The millisecond she took to blink in surprise, the effect disappeared and he looked as fine as he could be. Perfectly normal, despite the odd circumstances.

"I'll say this much," He stated, pulling her from her confused observation, "it smells way better out here." He inhaled deeply, emphasizing his point.

"It's a courtyard, it's supposed to smell nice." His light expression darkened to a spoiled pout by her tacit reply. "It's probably not supposed to smell like dried flowers, though," She added.

"Still way better than dust!" Her exclamation was met with a chuckle from him and their trek through the broken paths became far more relaxed than before.

With Natsu no longer barking orders and demanding assistance, his demeanor was slowly becoming more tolerable. At times, she noticed, he was oddly cute, but when he'd look at a broken statue, or back to the empty windows and heave a sigh, it left her feeling hollow, unsure where to even begin to help him.

From a distance, he still resembled the statue she'd come across. There was something so distinctly ancient about him despite barely looking older than herself. It was evident now as he explored the courtyard. He almost merged with the environment, part of it but still puzzlingly separated all at once.

The palpable grief in his eyes was a mirror she understood all too well, but couldn't bring herself to voice.

Circumstances that made her feel caught up in a whirlwind, and the urge to share her own personal life was just as jarring. She stamped those feelings down and followed him through to the stone wall that towered above the grounds, separating the castle from the surrounding forest.

"Now, this is definitely not right." Natsu's voice broke through her reverie, brows knitting together in consternation. "Wouldn't there still be signs of a city here or something?"

"Nature can be quick at retaking ground when people aren't there to hold it off anymore." She pointed out, but her answer left him unsatisfied. Though she tried to hide it, she couldn't conceal her own bafflement. "But it is weird that it didn't overtake the castle, too."

"Augh, this is so confusing. I don't like it!"

Lucy was compelled to agree. Looking for the busted gateway she and her peers had come through days before, she spied their van and other vehicles parked further down. There had been no direct road, though what once had been a road in ancient history still split the forest and kept the trees at bay just enough to drive down smoothly. Almost as if this Mystical Castle had purposefully made their trip easy.

The most important equipment had already been brought inside, but left behind in the confines of Gray's truck, Lucy knew exactly what to look for. Spying the silhouette of a forgotten duffle bag, still upright in the passenger seat, she pointed in triumph.

"Yes! I knew it'd still be there!" His penchant for forgetting clothes would be a win in her book this time around. He looked a similar height to Natsu, so there was bound to be something inside they could use. Gray would complain all night when he realized where his spare clothes went, but it's better than having Natsu near naked around their encampment. "Follow me!"

Natsu's questioning confusion went ignored as she darted through the gate, oblivious to the sudden temperature drop or the way all sounds from the castle courtyard dulled when she passed. She couldn't hear the crunch of Natsu's steps behind her or the birds that once sang from the overgrown bushes. There was the truck and only the chilling wind as Lucy approached, excitedly fishing her spare keys from the pocket of her pants.

She knew he wouldn't understand what vehicles were and she expected the Prince to follow her lead, curiosity and amazement urging him to inspect the large machines with the same fervor that he inspected everything else. If she had the time to consider, she could have offered to show him how they work. That enough would occupy his mind for hours and she wouldn't mind answering his assault of questions. But that could be saved for later. Swinging open the truck's door, Lucy cheered as she retrieved the duffle bag, brandishing it over her head.

Only then did she notice the silence.

Gripping the bag tightly, Lucy bit her lip, a strange form of apprehension crawling along her skin that rose in the back of her throat.

She didn't hear Natsu.

No demands for explanation. No snarky response to her exclamations, no ambling footsteps, nothing. A part of her expected to turn around and find him still stumbling after, slowed by his weakened limbs with a snarky retort waiting for her on his tongue, but even then, she couldn't catch the shuffling through the waving grass. With a start it struck her also couldn't sense the looming fortress she knew was behind her.

As if nothing was there, but that couldn't be right.

It wasn't right.

Lucy strange sense of foreboding that took over a sour tang that left her mouth dry as she spun to view the gateway, hoping her paranoia was just that.

Of course it would be, she told herself. The spoiled Prince would be there waiting, leaned up haughtily against the gateway or on the ground after falling, stubbornly dragging himself back up to fall again. She'd help him up, apologize and-

What greeted her wasn't what she imagined.

The Castle still stood, picturesque in its faded brilliance and the gateway looked the same as ever.

Except for Natsu, struggling to stand by the entrance with a hand outstretched to reach her. His mouth was moving hurriedly, shouting something she couldn't hear. In fact, she couldn't catch the tones of his voice in any capacity. As if he'd been muted by a remote. But Lucy couldn't keep her attention. Her feet took her back to the gate and Lucy noticed more and more the odd stance Natsu took, clawing desperately at the grass. His eyes were wide, filled with terror, his fingers still as stone as his feet scraped against the ground helpless in his attempt to pull himself back as his body worked against him.

This wasn't right. Something was off. She sprinted back, the duffle bag forgotten by her feet once she grasped the fingers reaching towards her, just inches passed the gate.

"Lucy! what's- what is this? What's happening?" Natsu finally reached her, his voice sounding far away despite their proximity, it wavered as he struggled and Lucy placed her fingers against his, recoiling when she felt the frozen chill of stone.

"What's happening to you?!"

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