AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!

EDITED: 4/14/18

Berserk

Chapter Sixteen

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

Natsu has been pacing for the better part of an hour, stalking from one end of their room to the other, strides long and purposeful as he growls and bares his teeth towards the closed door, as if waiting for soldiers to storm through. Lucy simply watches him, just as she has been for too many minutes, time lost to her as a low rumble tears from somewhere deep in Natsu's chest, low and warning and enough to make her hair stand on end. There's a board on the South side of the room, farthest from the door, that squeals when he steps on it, twisting on his heel to cross the room once more. His steps falter briefly on the North side of the room, his foot catching on a loose nail, not enough to make him fall, but enough for her to notice.

It's been hours since they heard the guards speaking, hours since Lucy felt like she couldn't breathe and the alley walls were collapsing in on her. Lucy knows what she heard in the alley, what they both heard. She knows what they meant, even if she would never admit it aloud. Something awful is going to happen, and they'll be caught right in the middle of it if they aren't careful. That's the last thing they need.

It took them what felt like hours to peel away from the wall and hurry back to their room. Neither said a word as they stumbled through the streets and into the Blue Moon. By the time they got back the sun was gone, swallowed by the darkness, with only a sliver of the moon to guide them.

If Lucy were to guess, she would say a new moon is coming, tomorrow, or perhaps the next day. She hasn't been paying as much attention to the night sky as she should be, the days have slipped away from her.

It's past midnight now, she can tell by the blackness of the night, by how bone-chillingly silent it is outside of their room. She wishes it weren't so quiet, not now.

Again, she watches Natsu stalk across the room, his footsteps harsh in the stillness of the night, steady as a beating war drum, something she fears may be on the horizon far quicker than either of them could have anticipated. He warned her, told her that this place was no good, that they should have left while they could. She shouldn't have been stubborn, but he was hurt and she couldn't help but blame herself for that.

She wanted him to recover, but she may as well have damned them both.

Natsu snarls low in his chest, his muscles flexing as he twists on his heel. The stitching on his chest pulls taut, threatening to snap and rip open the gash on his chest once more. Lucy winces, fingers twitching against her thighs. She only closed that wound an hour ago, hands steady despite her racing thoughts. Those stitches were the only thing keeping her calm, knowing that she couldn't make a mistake, least she hurt him.

Natsu began pacing almost immediately after she was done, lurching off the bed and stomping across the room, fuming.

For a while, Lucy was counting his steps, but she lost track after number four-hundred-and-seven. She didn't bother to start again, her head thick with thought, wandering to things far more precedent than the amount of steps he can take in an hour.

He stumbles on that nail again, and she sees those stitches pull and something inside her snaps. "Natsu," she starts, voice crackling from disuse, "calm down." He doesn't stop, wandering thoughts pulling him far away from her and this little room in the middle of a damaged, broken city. He makes another pass and her fingers twist against the blankets so tightly she's afraid they may rip. "Natsu!" she barks, voice demanding attention.

"What?" he snarls at her, whirling on his heel to face her, lips curved back over sharp teeth. A terrible sound rips from his throat, loud and cruel and something she never expected to come from him. She flinches without meaning to, suddenly remembering that terrible expression and those bared teeth, stark and white before they buried into her shoulder. He softens immediately, eyes apologetic as he stares down at her. His pacing ceases, and he takes a hesitant step forward, gauging her expression with watchful eyes. "Sorry," he murmurs, something like shame creeping into his voice, softer than before, gentle.

She waves him off, knowing he meant no harm. She trusts him, and while his anger startled her, she knows she has nothing to be afraid of. He could snap her neck with those big hands if he wanted to, but since the collar has come off, he's been nothing but gentle with her.

Lucy isn't afraid, not of him.

"Sit down before you pop a stitch," she tells him, sighing and patting the spot next to her. She eyes his bare chest wearily, lips pressed into a thin line as she watches his muscles flex and bunch and twist, each movement sending a jolt through her, making her teeth clench tighter as she waits for the thread to accidentally snap.

So help her, if he pops a stitch—

Natsu growls again, but it's softer this time, and she knows it's not directed towards her. His gaze is fierce when it locks with hers, but she matches it with her own defiance. His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. "We don't have time for sitting, Lucy," he huffs, but he doesn't start pacing again.

She glares right back at him, head held high despite the war raging in her head. There's a dull ache in the back of her skull, and she fights off a wince. "Make time," she snaps back, Natsu's eyes widening is shock as he registers her words.

For a long moment, she thinks he's going to ignore her. Fine, she thinks, if he wants to hurt himself over something so painfully out of their reach who is she to stop him.

His tongue flicks across his lips, jaw set into sharp angles, eyes narrowed. Natsu sighs suddenly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He doesn't sit, but he does stop, and the stitches on his bare chest don't look nearly as ready to snap as they did a moment earlier. "Lucy—"

She doesn't let him finish, doesn't want to hear whatever his excuses are. "You're being rash," she tells him, a harshness to her tone that she barely recognizes. Natsu jolts, his eyes widening just the slightest, as if chilled by the icy edge to her words.

Lucy never has enjoyed speaking to others this way, she's only needed to do it a few times in her life, enough to count them on both hands, but she can't let him get ahead of himself. They need clear heads, not this panic that seems palpable. She can smell it in the air, taste it on her tongue.

He snorts, though his expression softens when he looks at her. "You heard the same thing that I did," he reminds her, voice firm, but gentle. His arms hang loose at his sides, fingers twitching in irregular intervals. She can practically see the tension in his shoulders, in his back and stomach. It makes her nervous, but she doesn't say this aloud, doesn't want him to know.

"We don't know what they meant," Lucy tells him, sighing as her head continues to pound, each word rattling her skull. Her teeth clench tighter, the aching in her arm and in her head making her feel foggy yet painfully awake. Everything is sharp and dull all at once and it confuses her, makes her stomach twist sickly.

Natsu scoffs, hands curling into fists. "Like hell we don't," he snaps back, though not altogether unkindly. His boot scrapes against the floor and Lucy's skin crawls, the sound making the hair on her arms prickle in discomfort.

She can't blame him for his sharpness, knowing she would be reacting in a very similar way given the chance, but one of them needs a level head at the moment. Lucy knows it's harder for him to control his temper, and she's always had a good head on her shoulders.

"And what did they say, Natsu?" she asks him, voice almost mocking as she stares him down. "Huh?" His gaze rips away from hers, embarrassed or nervous she can't be sure. "That a storm was coming?" Lucy shakes her head, a breathless little laugh spilling from her lips. She shouldn't be laughing, she knows, but there's something rather bitter about how indirect people can be.

Why bother speaking in riddles when no one is listening?

Natsu is shaking his head before she's even finished. "They said they were going to strike," he challenges, a strange fire burning in his eyes, deep green lit with a fury she's never seen before.

Lucy considers this, lips pressing into a tight, thin line. She doesn't know whose side any of them are on. There's no telling who is going to be struck down. And she tells Natsu this.

"Strike at what?" she asks him, voice coming out hoarse and thin. He pauses when she looks up at him, gaze tired and melancholy when it locks with his. "Each other? Us?" Lucy shakes her head, hands rising to smooth across her face. "Peg knows what you are," she reminds him gently, wetting her mouth before worrying her bottom lip. "What if someone else knows?"

Natsu doesn't answer her for a long, long time, but she can't say she was expecting him to. Her fingers press harshly against her temple, partly to soothe the ache building there and partly to distract from the aching everywhere else.

She needs to tell him about her arm. She's been meaning to do so for days, but now's not the right time. It's just never the right time.

"Who's Bard?" Natsu asks her suddenly, coming closer to kneel against the bed. His weight sinks into the mattress beside her, knee knocking against her own very briefly. He hesitates for a moment, then raises his own hand to her temple. His fingers chase away the ache and she sighs, curling her legs closer to her as he pulls away.

Dimly, she registers his questing, confusion swirling though her mind. Lucy turns to him, head tilting up to meet his gaze. "What?" she murmurs back, unsure what that has to do with anything.

Natsu swallows thickly, his throat bobbing harshly as he glances away from her, eyes snapping towards the door for several long seconds before sliding back to hers. "Bard?" he asks again, head tilting to one side as his brow furrows. "You made a sound when the soldiers said that name," he murmurs, sounding confused and frustrated, though Lucy can't be sure why.

Her own eyes narrow in thought. Had she? Lucy didn't notice. Honestly, she hasn't thought much about the soldiers from that first night, their memories shoved to the back of her mind, buried beneath everything else that's happened to the pair of them in recent days. She couldn't be bothered to remember an offhanded conversation with a man she would likely never see again.

Lucy considers her words carefully when she speaks, trying her hardest to recall their short conversation. "He was a guard at the gate when I came in," she tells Natsu, lips curving into a frown. He watches her expression closely, gaze sharp. "He talked to me while I was waiting for you." She glances up at him, but if the Berserker is surprised he hides it well. "He told me that—" she cuts off suddenly, inhaling sharply.

In that moment, Lucy realizes she's missed something crucial.

Her breath comes out ragged and she lurches from the bed, nearly tripping as her legs become tangled in the blankets. Natsu catches her as she stumbles, standing quickly and pinning her with a firm grip. Lucy doesn't fight him, doesn't move to pull away, though she does go eerily still.

A low, concerned sound rumbles in his chest and then hands come up to cup her face, tilting her face so that she meets his eyes. Natsu's calloused fingers briefly ghost over her skin and she shivers when she sees the steely look in his eyes. "Told you what?" he asks her, quiet and gentle, thumb warm at the corner of her lips. The words catch in her throat, all that leaves her mouth is a soft choking sound. His grip on her tightens. "Lucy, hey, what's wrong?"

She pulls from his grip suddenly, realizing she's done something very stupid, forgotten something very important because she was too distracted worrying about her friend. She should have paid more attention, should have listened a bit harder, asked more questions. She should have listened to Natsu when he said he wanted to leave.

"We need to leave," she tells Natsu, voice a broken whisper, but she knows he hears her by the way his muscles tense, his shoulders gone rigid. He doesn't move, however, and Lucy feels frustration build in her throat, a tight fist clamping down and squeezing. "We need to leave, now," she repeats, firmer this time, gaze holding his.

He considers her for a short moment, lips slightly parted and eyes blown wide, and so, so green.

She doesn't realize she's shaking until his hands curl around her shoulders, sliding down slowly until his thumbs are pressed against her inner-wrists, feeling her pulse race and holding her steady.

"Hey," he murmurs, head ducking down to meet her eyes. His fingers squeeze around her wrists gently, her skin cold beneath his large palms. "Hey, Lucy." She looks up at him again, panic soothed by his quiet words and gentle touch. She swallows down the lump in her throat, shoulders relaxing, and leans into him just the slightest. Her nerves stitch back together, and she sucks in a deep, shaky breath.

"They're going to revolt," she tells him, breathing the words in the small space between him, only for him to hear. He goes tense against her, inhaling sharply. Lucy wets her lips, wiggling one hand from his grasp so that she can play with his fingers absentmindedly. "The guards I ran into," she continues, pinching at his skin, "they were Mithrien."

A low growl spills passed his lips as he realizes what she means. They've both been fools for not realizing it sooner. People have been practically telling them to leave the city while they had the chance, but neither of them listened.

Lucy finds it bitter, has to choke back a laugh when she realizes it. She's escaped a tyrant king and survived a brutal attack by his Berserker, only to get the both of them trapped in the middle of a war. She's gotten them both stuck in the figurative spider's web.

Natsu's jaw clenches, she can hear his teeth grind together slowly, softly. "They're trying to take back Jorah," he murmurs, head tilting down to speak in her ear, so low she almost can't make out his words. "And the Jernnas." A civil war, she knows, is dangerous, especially this close to a border. The sides are more likely to destroy each other entirely than either side win.

There was a civil war in Fiore, once, when she was much younger. It happened in the Northern territory, a place called the firelands. It had been a slaughter. No one survived. Absolutely no one.

"They're starting a war," she murmurs back, eyes squeezing shut tightly. This is bad, very, very bad. The soldiers sad tomorrow, but by now Lucy knows they have less than twenty-four hours to get out of this city, lest they become caught in the fighting. Trapped in this city.

They're half-way to Fiore, they can't become stuck here. She promised Romeo and Laxus she would come home. Lucy doesn't break her promises, not on her life.

Natsu rips away from her suddenly, practically lunging for the door. "We need to go." It's not a suggestion, it's a command. His footsteps are loud in the otherwise silent room as storms towards the door.

Lucy never has liked being told what to do. She lashes out before he can take more than a few steps, fingers curling tightly around his wrist before she yanks him towards her. Natsu stumbles, not expecting the sudden shift in balance, and blinks down at her rapidly, eyes wide. His expression goes soft, the rage melting away just as suddenly as it came.

She knows that his rapid shifts in mood should be more of a concern, but she figures they have more important things to worry about. She trusts Natsu to keep himself in check. And if he doesn't, she can very well do it herself.

"We can't leave now," she tells him, more gentle than she means to. He listens to her regardless of how firm she is, his lips pressing into a thin, unimpressed line, but he doesn't argue. "The gates will be locked." It's a reminder, one they both need.

She thought about it too, storming out and running, but it would be a fool's errand and they've mad enough mistakes for one night.

She watches as he considers this, his eyes narrowing in thought. They could climb the gate, but between his chest and her arm, Lucy doesn't know if they could make it. They could fight, but they would risk losing—risk being executed.

It's not worth the risk.

Natsu sighs, giving a jerky nod as he comes to the same conclusion as her. They're better off leaving early in the morning, slipping away before the fighting and disappearing into the mountain range.

"What if they win?" Lucy asks suddenly, gaze snapping up to meet his. Natsu stares right back at her, gaze confused. Lucy wets her lips. "What if they do take Jorah?" she asks him.

He winces, exhaling heavily through his nose. Natsu steps forward, his arm coming up to curl around her back and pull her close to his chest. She inhales sharply, not expecting the embrace, and goes very still when she feels his lips brush against her ear, hears him swallow loudly. "They won't keep it," he breathes against her.

The sun has barely begun to rise by the time Natsu and Lucy have pulled themselves out of bed, their gear packed and ready for them. The night was fitful, neither sleeping more than a few hours on and off. Lucy doesn't ask him, but she knows Natsu was awake for most of the night. She can tell by the darkness under his eyes, his skin a shade paler than it should be. He looks at her and she can see exhaustion.

She wants to think it's foolish of him to have stayed awake for so long, but she's not much better. At one point in the night she rose, pacing the room much as Natsu had only hours earlier.

Lucy doesn't know if he was awake then, but she's glad he didn't try to stop her.

They left before Peg could notice, slipping out the door when she wasn't watching. Their trip to the West gate went quickly, the pair of them winding through the streets unnoticed so early in the day.

The sun rose slowly, and Lucy tried to ignore how red the sky was bleeding.

They make it to the gate in silence, Lucy eyeing the single guard wearily as they come closer. He's tall, taller than Natsu, but thinner in the shoulders. She knows better than to underestimate him though, and her skin crawls when she thinks about what happened back in Ðüskell. Lucy's lips press into a thin line as she watches the soldier, his gaze flicking between her and Natsu rapidly, a lazy smile on his lips.

She could take him, she thinks. She's not afraid of a single soldier, not anymore.

Natsu's palm is warm against her back as he guides her towards the gate, his fingers twitching against her spine as the guard stares at them blatantly. Lucy's own hands are shoved deep into her pockets, as far from her knives as she can keep them. They don't need to give this guard a reason to stop them, not when they're in so much of a rush.

Natsu's hand slides around her back, fingers squeezing her hip slowly. Lucy glances up at him and they share a brief look. He nods when he meets her eyes, jaw clenched tightly, and tucks her closer into his side. Lucy lets him, breathing easier as she feels his warmth against her left side.

She curls closer, making a home against his torso, and hopes they don't look as suspicious as she feels they do.

They're halfway through the gate when the guard moves, a heavy, metal pike hovering before Natsu's throat. He jerks to a stop, grip tightening around her, and the breath rushes from Lucy's lungs, pure, nauseating fear clawing at her throat. Her gaze snaps to the guard, terrified, but his gaze isn't malicious, only firm.

"No one leaves," he tells them, voice a deep timber that racks down Lucy's spine. He stares at them, hair falling into his blank eyes, and the pike edges closer to Natsu's skin. The sharp point makes an indent in his flesh, but doesn't draw blood.

Lucy jerks him back, ripping Natsu away from the weapon, and settles in front of him. The guard blinks down at her, but appears unconcerned as he lowers the weapon to her own throat. Behind her, Natsu snarls, grip bruising on her waist. She ignores him, leveling the guard with her own fierce stare, which makes him pause, though only briefly.

"And why, pray tell, would that be?" she asks him, keeping her tone even. If her words wobble, the guard either doesn't notice or simply doesn't care. A low growl rumbles behind her, but Lucy jabs at Natsu with her elbow.

He huffs, but goes quiet. His free hand drifts down to her thigh, fingers brushing against her bare skin before finding a knife, though he doesn't pull it out. Natsu holds her there, glaring at the guard and fingering her knives, waiting for a wrong move.

The guard considers them for a moment, but doesn't lower his weapon. "Orders of His Majesty," he replies after several painfully long seconds. He purses his lips, dark eyes beseeching as he glances over the both of them. Again, Lucy skin crawls. His golden armor glints in the morning light, and he lowers his weapon slowly, drawing it away from Lucy's skin.

Natsu relaxes against her back, the tension draining from him as soon as she's not being threatened. Lucy hand seeks out his, fingers brushing against the back of his hand slowly, reassuringly.

"On what grounds?" Lucy demands, glaring up at the guard, her anger beginning to spill through. There should be no reason for them to be forced to stay here, absolutely none. And especially not on the order of a King nearly a thousand miles away. His reach barely extends this far West, not anymore.

Lucy remembers the first night, Bard and the other man telling her about the increase in soldiers. She begins to wonder whether this rebellion was caused by the influx in soldiers, or if perhaps it's the other way around.

The guard's glare turns menacing and Lucy flinches back. Natsu begins to snarl again.

"None that concern you," he replies evenly, no frustration seeping into his words. For a moment, Lucy is impressed. She would never be able to school her expression like that, not even if she practiced. Laxus has always said that she carries her heart in her eyes, brandishing her emotions for all to see. "No one gets in or out," the man finishes, evidently bored with the conversation.

Before Lucy can argue again, another man steps up, one that Lucy recognizes. "Yorrik!" the younger guard from the first night calls as he steps up behind Natsu and Lucy. He ignores them completely as he clasps the other man—Yorrik, evidently—on the shoulder. "Your shift is done." There's a quiet exchange that Lucy can't hear, and then Yorrik nods and walks away, heading back into the city without a second glance.

The unnamed guard turns towards them, sighing. He glares at Lucy, though his expression isn't altogether unfriendly. "You should have left when you had the chance," he tells her, voice only a hiss.

Lucy frowns, glaring right back at him. "Why don't you let us out now?" she asks him, a cold edge to her words. She thinks this is a bit ridiculous. This isn't their war. They have the opportunity to let people leave, but they aren't doing anything. They can save people, but they aren't. Lucy realizes that last night.

Men, she's come to realize, are willing to start wars over just about anything, but they're all cowards. When given the opportunity to save lives, they'll just turn their backs and continue the fight. It's pathetic.

The guard doesn't budge. "On the orders of His Majesty, no one gets in or out of the Black Gates of Jorah," he recites calmly, looking almost bored as he stares down at her.

Lucy scoffs, sneering up at him. "I didn't pin you for a Centari soldier," she mocks, satisfaction flooding through her when he flinches back, the words cutting into him deeply. She knows he's from Mithriel, knows her words are an insult, she just doesn't give a damn.

His jaw ticks and he snarls at her, taking a half-step towards her, only to still when Natsu snarls at him, tone a low warning. Instead, he barks out a laugh, smile cruel as he stares at her. "Didn't pin you for a—" he cuts off suddenly, glancing at Natsu behind her, eyes narrowed in thought, "what does your kind call them?" he asks, "Skidjøte?"

Lucy knows it's an insult even before Natsu reacts. It sounds dirty when the man says it, and Lucy prickles, anger sparking in veins. Natsu unwinds from her immediately, slipping around her with a threatening snarl and lunging for the guard, teeth bared and eyes murderous.

She catches him quickly, stilling him with a hand pressed to his chest, coming to stand between them. "Don't," she snaps at him, shoving him backwards when he resists. "Natsu, don't!" He stops fighting her, but continues to growl and snap.

The guard sneers. "Best hold him back, Miss," he tells her, glaring back at Natsu. "I would hate to run him through." His own pike glints in the light, flashing threateningly.

Lucy gives Natsu one final shove, sending him stumbling back a step. She whirls on her heel, stare demanding as she looks at the soldier. "Let us through," she spits, jaw clenching tightly. "We aren't part of this." This isn't her damn war, and it's not Natsu's anymore either.

"You are now."

Her eyes squeeze shut tightly, hands curling into fists at her sides. "Please," she tries again, desperation clawing at her throat.

She just wants to go home.

He considers her for a long moment, gaze traveling the length of her body slowly. Lucy cringes internally, but holds herself firmly. "I'll make you a deal," he tells her, pulling at his lower lip with his teeth, the words sarcastic and biting. "Take off your clothes, and I'll let you walk through the gate."

Natsu snaps, but Lucy is faster. Her hand cracks across the guard's face, nails raking over his skin and drawing thin lines of blood. He cries out, stumbling backwards, but Lucy doesn't bother to watch. She twists back around, catching Natsu's hand in hers and dragging him away without a word.

They'll find their own damn way out of Jorah.

AN: Edited: 4/14/18. I should be able to post another chapter tonight, and maybe one or two tomorrow. I've gotten to the point where I'm only really looking for grammatical errors, as there isn't much plot wise that still needs heavy editing, so chapters should be coming faster from here. At least, until I start finals in a few weeks.