AN: Edited 3/13/18. Changes occur throughout, mostly in regards to dialogue.

Berserk

Chapter Seven

{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}

They've been walking for over half a day and neither have said anything, both too preoccupied with their thoughts to bother with small talk. Natsu never has been good at it anyway. There was never any reason for trivial conversation back in Pergrande. Even if there were, Natsu doubts he would have been able to keep up his half of the conversation. There's not much for him to talk about when he's spent half his life rotting away in a cell. Regardless, the thief, Lucy, hardly seems up to pleasantries at the moment.

From several paces behind the girl, Natsu keeps rapt attention to every move she makes, every tentative step and how she's been cradling an arm close to her chest, prodding for broken ribs when she thinks he isn't watching. Judging by the grimace on her face, she'll have some nasty bruises come morning, possibly a fracture. Praying to Djehl, Natsu hopes that's the worst of it.

Natsu doesn't mean to watch so closely, but every time he looks away guilt begins to crawl up his throat, just as it always does when he gains back control of himself. He should have fought harder against the King's control, should have just killed the man when he had the opportunity. There was a split second of clarity when she hit him, a ray of light coming through the red in his eyes. For a moment he could see the sheer terror in her eyes as she stared up at him, he could feel the twinge of pain from his arm.

Then the red took over again; it swallowed him whole and consumed him just as it always does—did, he hopes, staring at the golden tips of her hair swishing across her back. She wouldn't collar him again, he thinks. Not after seeing what it did.

He hadn't lied to her earlier, when she asked why he wanted to help her. He wants to make sure she makes it home to whoever might be waiting for her. Her leg won't hold out for long, and he doesn't want her getting caught and dragged back to Pergrande. He doesn't want the people she loves to be left wondering what became of her. If he can get her home, maybe the guilt will stop tearing at his lungs. And he meant it when he said he has nowhere else to go. Frankly, he would rather she kill him now than turn him in to Pergrande. There's nothing there for him but more death and the endless red haze that curls through his mind like smoke.

A hand goes to his throat, fingertips tracing along the scar on his neck and for a moment Natsu allows himself to close his eyes, his muscles going lax as he feels pale, raised skin rather than steel or gold, no freezing metal biting into his throat for the first time in years.

A small smile quirks at his lips, but only for a moment before he opens his eyes and watches as Lucy stumbles, her ankle rolling beneath her.

Natsu lunges forward before she can fall, one arm catching her by the wrist as the other curls close to her back, holding her steady. She tenses at the sudden touch, but doesn't pull away. Hurt stings at his chest, but Natsu ignores it, knowing that she has every right to be afraid of his hands—her throat began to turn an alarming shade of deep purple only minutes after they started walking, bruises bleeding beneath her skin rapidly. If he looks closely enough, Natsu can see the imprint of his fingers in her skin and it's all he can do to swallow the bile in his throat.

He can't for the life of him understand why she allowed him to follow after her. Perhaps, if she wasn't so shaken so never would have agreed to it, though it wouldn't have stopped him from following from a distance. Perhaps she knows this.

She said she didn't want his blood dept, but he figures that isn't her choice to make. Blood oaths are sacred to his kind, and debts more so than anything are meant to be upheld. A life for a life is something Igneel instilled in him. Blood for blood. A Berserk never leaves a debt unfulfilled, not so long as they still breathe. And whether Lucy wants it or not, she has it, even if his motives are partially selfish.

Lucy releases a shaky little breath, snapping his attention back to the woman in his arms, and she surprises him by leaning into the palm resting against her spine, using him to keep the weight off her injured leg. Natsu simply lets her, pressing his hand to her back firmly and allowing her to catch her breath. She releases a small, quivering sound that he wouldn't hear if he wasn't blessed by Djehl and his jaw clenches, his teeth grinding together as he registers the distressed sound.

Natsu's gaze drifts to the bruises around her throat before snapping to her wrist as he feels her pulse jump beneath his fingers. She doesn't snap at him as he runs his thumb along the thin skin of her inner arm, and though he finds that odd, he doesn't comment on the small fact, aware that she's in more pain than she's been letting on. Lucy looks at him then, and a cool fist grips at his heart as he sees something wet gleaming in her eyes.

Lucy wobbles on her good leg as Natsu releases her, a sharp inhale the only sound between them as Natsu drops onto a knee in front of her. His fingers curl around her thigh just above her knee, grip firm as he holds her in place. Lucy peers down at him in shock, something both curious and afraid swirling through her amber eyes. He hesitates then, glancing between her eyes and her injured ankle, but ultimately decides to take a chance. If she tells him to stop, he will, but Natsu won't have her hurting herself further.

He jerks his chin down sharply, nodding towards her ankle. "Can I…" He leaves the question half-hanging between them, his tongue suddenly feeling heavy and thick in his mouth. He isn't sure he has the right to ask. Natsu wets his lips, glancing wearily up at the woman, gauging her reaction to his hand on her leg.

Her gaze jumps from his down to the hand on her leg, then slides down to her boot and her sure to be swollen ankle. She purses her lips, expression unreadable when she meets his gaze again, and Natsu thinks she's about to snap at him.

When she nods, it's jerky and he can see the muscles in her jaw jump as she clenches her teeth, but it's a nod nonetheless.

Natsu mumbles a quiet word in the old tongue and draws her forward a step, hoisting her leg up closer to his face. She stumbles a bit, hopping to keep from tumbling to the ground, and her hands come to rest against his shoulders. The touch is hesitant at first, little more than a ghosting of her fingers against his bare skin, but then he tugs on the lacing of her boot and those fingers curl around his arms and dig into his shoulder blades hard enough to hurt. Nails bite into his skin hard enough to draw blood, but Natsu says nothing, merely lets her grip him to the bone so long as it takes her focus away from her leg.

It doesn't hurt him.

Her laces come loose and he gives her leg a brief squeeze when she hisses, murmuring a quiet apology as he feels her grip on him tighten in pain. When he glances up at her, she's watching his hands, something in her eyes that he recognizes painfully. "You don't trust me," he states casually, gaining her attention almost instantly just like he wanted. She peers down at him curiously, and Natsu glances up when he feels her eyes on him.

He meets her unflinching gaze, something swelling in his chest when he sees no fear in her eyes, just fascination and perhaps surprise. Distrust, but no venom.

Lucy holds his gaze, amber eyes narrowing just the slightest as she stares him down. "Should I?" she asks slowly, lips pressing into a thin line. Natsu starts to wiggle her boot off, but stills when he sees her grimace. She says nothing else, waiting for him to respond. Good, he thinks, he wants her attention on him, not her foot. If he can get her to relax, even just for a moment, he might be able to do this without hurting her more than necessary.

He pauses, considering her question as he runs a thumb along the thin cotton of her stocking, the fabric soft against his fingers. Her question rings in his ears. "Maybe not," he murmurs back, something bitter crawling through him like a sickness. If she's smart, which he thinks she must be to have tricked her way into a castle and steal from a King, she wouldn't take anything he says without skepticism.

Natsu has never met a man or woman who trusted him before; he doesn't expect anything from her. He's heard all of the stories. For a long time they made him fear himself.

Lucy snorts. "Reassuring," she drawls, drumming her fingers against his shoulders. Natsu glances up at her, but she isn't looking at him, her gaze far off. Her boot finally comes loose, and though she winces, she doesn't make a sound.

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, his throat tight, as if there were ghostly fingers curled around his neck. Natsu glances up at her own neck, the purple and black bruising a bitter reminder of the beast lurking just beneath the surface. No, he thinks again, she shouldn't trust him. Not when he barely trusts himself. "I'm not going to hurt you again," he promises, more to himself than her. May Djehl take his soul before he lays another hand on her.

A beat of silence. "You said that before," she reminds him, though not unkindly. He runs a light finger against her swollen ankle, frowning at how puffy the skin looks, even beneath the cotton of her sock. Lucy flinches and he pats her knee in apology.

There's a long stretch of silence as he considers removing her stocking to get a good look at the area but doesn't want to push his luck.

"I meant it." His fingers drift higher on her thigh, fingering the clasp attaching her stocking to the holster around her leg. Natsu looks up, meeting her eyes and asking for silent permission remove the fabric. Lucy gives a sharp nod and he wastes no time undoing the little clasp. "I don't hurt people who haven't done anything wrong," he continues, slowly pulling the sock down her leg with a gentle hand, the other cradling the back of her knee to keep her foot from touching the ground.

Lucy quirks a brow as she watches him, snorting softly. When she smiles it's wry, almost bitter, but it's a smile nonetheless. "Just the ones that deserve it?" she asks him. He thinks it might be a joke, but he can't be sure.

His lips curve up at the edges, more teeth than smile. "Maybe," he replies breezily, wetting his lips as he bites back the truth, not wanting to scare her more than she probably already is.

Finally, he tugs off her stocking, only to drop it immediately once he sees the ugly bruising around her ankle. The swelling looks worse now that he can see it clearly, and Natsu has to swallow down the acid in his throat as the color makes him gag. He's seen much worse than this, but blood is easier than a sickening blackness swirling beneath the skin.

The hands on his shoulders still, her grip going soft as Natsu runs a gentle fingers along her calf, stopping before he can prod the bruised skin of her ankle. Natsu sucks in an angry breath as he stares down at the swollen joint that she's been walking on all morning. If he had have know it was this bad he wouldn't have let her keep walking all this time. Though that probably wouldn't have stopped her.

Lucy's fingers suddenly skim the side of his neck, tickling the raised skin of his scar.

He shouldn't be touching her, not after what he did.

For a moment, he thinks about letting go of her leg and walking away, but when he looks up the pain in her eyes makes him pause. His grip on her thigh tightens just the slightest when he catches sight of her glistening eyes, her lip caught between her teeth as she holds back a hiss. Her breathing is shallow, he notices, shallow and fast, like she can't take in enough air.

"Hold onto me. Tight," he commands suddenly, keeping one hand on her leg as he reaches behind himself. Lucy blinks down at him, confused, but says nothing as he slips a hand into the back of his boot. Her fingers curl tighter around his arms as Natsu pulls out a long, red piece of fabric from where it was wrapped around his own leg. "If it hurts, squeeze," Natsu tells her lowly, eyes rising to meet hers slowly. "Don't pull away. Okay?" She gives a jerky nod, her fingers digging into his skin.

Bandaging her ankle is slow work. Lucy's breath catches in her throat every time he winds the fabric around her ankle, her leg tensing as the wrap is pulled flush against her skin. She doesn't pull away, but her nails do dig into his shoulders hard enough that he can feel his skin split and bleed. He murmurs soft words as he wraps her ankle, unsure if she knows what he's saying. Regardless, it seems to calm her, if only a little.

When he finishes, he doesn't release her leg, not right away. Lucy allows him to slip her boot back over her foot, the laces left undone to reduce the discomfort. When he looks up again, she's smiling and it takes him by surprise.

"Thank you," Lucy whispers, voice barely loud enough for him to hear, despite how silent the forest has fallen. Her thumbs brush against the sides of his neck briefly, and his skin prickles at the unfamiliar touch. Natsu holds her gaze for a long moment, searching her eyes for any flickers of pain or fear, but finding none.

He squeezes her calf gently, lowering her foot back to the ground. Her nails bite into his shoulders as he does, but she says nothing as her foot meets the earth. "You won't be able to run on this," he tells her, prying his hand away from her leg and standing slowly. "Not for at least a few weeks." Lucy grimaces, but nods, and Natsu feels a sting in his chest at the nervous look in her eyes. "You shouldn't even be walking on it," he tacks on slowly, wishing he say something to ease her frustration.

Lucy snorts when she hears him, and there's a half-smile on her lips.

Without a word her hands slip from his shoulders, trailing down his arms only briefly before her fingers curl around his wrists. He glances down curiously, watching in fascination as her pale skin ghosts against his. Natsu is so lost in the wonder of it all that he's shocked when she slips to the ground, gentle hands pulling him down with her. His gaze flicks between her face and the place where her hands meet his skin, a frown pulling at his lips. Lucy merely smile, settling onto the earth, mindful of her ankle as she shifts.

Natsu moves slower than she does, torn between wonder and the nervous pinching in his gut. Lucy gives his arms a sharp tug then, nearly jerking him down beside her. His brow furrows as he slips down in front of her, not saying a word as she releases him in favor of pulling the bag from her shoulders. A cloth is pulled out, white and rumpled from being jostled around. A canteen comes next, and Natsu stares as she twists open the cap before pressing the open mouth to the cloth, dampening it.

Lucy doesn't breathe a word as she reaches out, hand trembling only the slightest as she leans into him. One hand goes back to his shoulder, the other slipping to his chest. Natsu follows her movement, his shoulders going stiff as she dabs at the bloody wound towards the left of his chest, one he hadn't noticed before. He looks up just in time to catch a glimpse of her eyes, seeing his own guilt reflected in her.

There's a gentleness in her touch that causes a tight fist to curl around his throat and squeeze. He doesn't deserve it, he thinks. Not her silent guilt and not her soft fingers prodding at the deep wound on his chest, soothing the phantom ache in his bones and wiping away the blood.

Berserks heal faster than most, their wounds closing easily, though scaring badly. This wouldn't be the first he's received on a mission from the King, and no one has ever looked at the wounds before, leaving him to his own devices.

The silence pulls at him uncomfortably, and Natsu finds himself speaking without truly meaning to. "There's a difference, you know," he mumbles, staring down at her hand as she continues to wipe away the blood, "between our natural berserk state and the one we're forced into by the collars." He figures she must know this already, but he finds himself telling her anyway, if only do quiet the deafening silence surrounding them. The quiet never used to scare him, but suddenly it feels suffocating.

To his surprise, Lucy stills, glancing up at him for a moment before pulling the bloody cloth from his chest and squeezing out the blood. He flinches as the squelching sound the cloth makes, the bloody water dripping onto the grass to his left. "What do you mean?" she whispers back, wetting the cloth once more and dabbing at his chest. The hand on his shoulder tightens for just a moment as she leans in closer, and Natsu belatedly realizes she smells of something like stardust.

Natsu swallows thickly, chewing his cheek as he considers his words carefully. "The collars send us into a state of bloodlust," he tells her gently, head tilting back to stare at the sky, half-hidden behind the winding branches of Fairy Trees. "In that moment everything is red." A shiver crawls up his spine, and Lucy pauses, her gaze darting up to look at him. Natsu doesn't notice her eyes on him. "We want nothing more than death and blood on our hands." He pauses, chancing a glance down at her. Her amber gaze meets his, unflinching. "We would kill our best friend and not even know it," Natsu finishes, softer than before. Shame creeps into his heart as he thinks of the blood on his hands that will never be washed away.

For a long moment, Lucy stays quiet. Her hands still against him, and the wet cloth drips, bloody water trailing down his chest in slow lines. "And without the stones?" she asks cautiously, gauging his reaction as she glances between the bloody rag and the wound on his chest, hesitant to press the cloth back to his torn flesh.

Raising his hand to his chest, Natsu lets his larger palm rest over hers, long fingers ghosting over hers. Lucy stares up at him, not pulling away, and for that Natsu is grateful. He doesn't want her to be afraid of him. He holds her gaze, expression more serious that he's ever worn before. "We would fight to our last breath for what we hold dear," he explains gently. A breeze whirls around them, cool against his burning flesh. Her fingers curl against his just the slightest. "It's not about the killing," he continues gently, "it's about protecting."

Algiz.

He glances down at his own chest, noticing the smear of blue paint across his skin, too smudged with blood and sweat to read. It's no matter. The paint is only a formality—a sign to the other Berserks what he stands for. Whether or not he has the symbol branded into his flesh, it will always be humming in his bones.

Lucy considers this as his hand slips from hers, falling to his side wish a soft slap. It takes a moment, but her fingers go back to prodding the open wound. It stings when she presses the rag against the ugly mark, but he holds still for her, letting her hand peruse the gash as she needs. It's silent for a beat, Lucy lost to her thoughts and him biting back a hiss when she presses down too hard.

"So when you attacked me…" she starts suddenly, trailing off before she can finish the question burning at her mind. Natsu screws his eyes shut as she pulls her hand away to ring out the cloth once more. Her hand falls from his shoulder, drifting back to her bag quickly only to pull out what he thinks must be a bottle of whiskey. A cork is pulled from the top, the red symbol of Pergrande branded into the sponge material. He snorts, wondering where she must have stole it from. Lucy flashes him a look, dousing the cloth with the burning liquid.

He wrinkles his nose as the smell hits him, steeling himself for the inevitable sting. "I was told to kill you by My King," Natsu tells her bitterly, his hands clenching into fists atop his lap, "and I would have done it." He grits his teeth as the cloth is pressed to his skin, his muscles going rigid. Lucy mumbles a soft word, soothing him as her hand falls to rest atop one of his. Natsu swallows down the lump in his throat, continuing before he can stop himself. "Your blood was the only thing I could smell. I could taste it." He grimaces and Lucy stills for just a beat. Her thumb brushes against the back of his hand. "And I wanted it," he spits the words as if they're poisonous, and to him they may as well be. Disgust curls through him, but he says nothing else.

"The collars make you lose freewill," Lucy replies simply. "There was black magic in that stone. A possession charm. Bad Fae magic." She pauses in her work, glancing up at him with something unreadable in her eyes. Her lips part, a question on her tongue, but she says nothing for a long moment.

"Did it hurt? When they made you wear it?" she finally asks, tossing the cloth aside and pulling a bandage from her pack. Natsu hesitates at the question, then nods silently, wondering why she's asking. Lucy hums in thought. "Why did he put it on you?"

He shrugs, shoulder jerking up roughly and she pats the back of his hand gently. He purses his lips, unsure how to put it. "I was being disobedient," he decides upon, the words sounding vile between them. "I told him I wouldn't kill you, so he was going to make me do it anyway." Lucy's head snaps up, eyes wide, but Natsu cuts her off before she can speak. "So why'd you take it?

"What?" she sputters, confusion clouding her eyes.

Natsu almost smiles. Almost. He nods to where he can sense the stone in her pocket, the scent of magic heavy in the air. "You stole the King's jewel," he reminds, amusement creeping into his tone. His lips quirk up at the edges, faint but there. Lucy eyes rip away from his, a darkness creeping over her, and Natsu considers dropping the question—changing the subject to something lighter. His tongue sticks in his mouth when he tries to speak once more, heavy and thick, and the words become caught in his throat.

The breeze around them grows stronger suddenly, and Natsu frowns in confusion as Lucy's hair begins to ruffle, beginning to swirl around her almost violently. Bewildered, Natsu glances around the stretch of grass they've come to rest in the middle of, noting that the no wind has stirred the trees surrounding them. His gaze snaps back to the girl before him, the scent of stardust growing stronger and stronger until the wind suddenly stops all together, as if it was never there to begin with.

Lucy doesn't speak for a long moment, the air between them growing colder with every passing minute. The wound on his chest is cleaned, then bandaged with a cloth and foul smelling paste than makes his nose sting. Once finished, Lucy leans back against her hands, her knee bumping against his as she gazes up at the sky in silence.

"I stole it back," she says suddenly, shoulders going stiff as his head snaps up to watch her. Her eyes drift to meet his, something melancholy hiding in her warm, honey eyes.

Natsu leans forward, curiosity pulling at him. Stole it back? Natsu's eyes narrow, not understanding. From what he understands, that gem has been a Centari heirloom for as far back as it has existed. As if sensing his thoughts, Lucy continues, her lips twisting into a grim line. "It had been in my family for generations before His Majesty," she spits mockingly, "took it from us."

Cold realization hits him harder than he would ever admit aloud. "That stone has magical powers," he murmurs, pausing only to swear in the old tongue, a foul word the clings to the air between them, "but only in the hands of Faeborne." His nose wrinkles as he smells stardust once more and Lucy shifts uncomfortably. He should have guessed it earlier, but it had never crossed his mind to think that a Faeborne would dare to enter the red city.

If the King had caught her—Natsu shivers, banishing the thought from his mind.

"You entered the Red City for an old jewel?" His eyes narrow at her, disbelieving. "You know what happens to the Faeborne in Pergrande." It's almost chastising when he says it, and she sends him a look that cows him.

"Of course I know what happens," she snaps back, glaring as the wind begins to pick up around them once more. "I know better than you," she continues, softer but just as biting. "I had greater business in Ðüskell," she offers in explanation, leaving him curious, but revealing nothing more.

Lucy wets her lips, curling in on herself slowly. Before he can stop himself, Natsu reaches out and places a hand on her bare thigh, just above her knee. Her head snaps up at the touch, hesitant and fearful, but Natsu merely gives her a squeeze, hoping she understands his silent support. She sighs, once hand coming to rest just above him, just barely touching him.

"The last true Faeborne of my family was my great, great grandmother Anna," she whispers to him suddenly, as if someone could be listening. He raises a brow at the change in subject, but doesn't comment. "She was an elemental spirit." A breeze swirls around them, almost a caress. "Air." A small, bitter smile pulls at her lips. "Our line has diluted," she finishes softly.

The wind ruffles his hair. "But you still have magic in you," he murmurs back, stardust on his tongue. The taste sends an odd, pleasant shiver up his spine, the raw magic of the Fae curling through him soothingly. There's something about her magic, the tingle it sends through him, far gentler than the King's black magic. He wonders if all Faeborne have magic so soft, but shakes the thought away before he can breathe the words to her.

Her smile is sad when she meets his eyes, a hint of defeat swirling in her irises. "Not much." She plucks at a blade of grass by her side.

Above them, the sky begins to bleed red and gold, violet swirling through the clouds as the sun begins to set. Natsu hadn't meant to keep them so long, traveling in the darkness is dangerous, especially when he can't be sure who might be following them. His lips purse, jaw clenching. He glances back at Lucy, only to find her frowning up at the dusky sky as well.

Her words echo in his mind, a low whisper of "not much" swirling through him. He stares down at his own hands, remembering how powerless he felt in the King's cages. "Enough," he blurts suddenly. Lucy's head snaps around to look at him. "You have just enough," he tells her, honestly burning bright in his eyes. The scent of stardust grows thicker in the air, though Natsu can't be sure whether it's because of Lucy or the growing darkness of the sky, the red and golds giving way to a beautiful violet. He can almost see the stars.

AN: (3/13/18) Hey, so, remember this is all just revisions. I'm only keeping old ANs attached because they're a documentation of what was happening during the original write of this fic. Anything about double updates is no longer relevant.

AN: (old, before rewrite) Holy crap I'm posting this quick before my computer dies! Please be sure to leave a review folks! They make me cry out of joy (also 76 last chapter? I actually almost cried about that, thank you all! You're the greatest!) Next chapter is Saturday!

Also, this fic ht 200 follows! It's time to do a Q&A for this fic! Any questions at all (though I won't be giving away major spoilers)! Have a nice day and don't forget to leave a review! Questions will be answered at the end of the next chapter! 3