AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!
EDITED 4/14/18
Berserk
Chapter Seventeen
{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}
Natsu lets her drag him away, her hand tight around his, nails pricking at his skin uncomfortably. He doesn't tell her to let go, despite the prickle of pain, only squeezes back twice as hard, gentle enough not to hurt her as she tugs him away from the mountains and the gate and the guard that Natsu wants to rip to pieces. But he doesn't, he just lets her lead him away, overwhelmingly grateful that she stopped him earlier. He knows he would have done something awful if she hadn't gotten between them, something he knows he would have regretted.
It was foolish of her to get between a Berserk and their target, but he figures she knows that already, so he won't bother lecturing her. Besides, she still has the bruises to show for the last time he got angry and she was there, he wouldn't be able to look at himself if he did it a second time.
Despite his relief at not doing something he'd regret, Natsu can't help but want to turn around and do what he intended. For that guard to call her that, to insult her in that way, makes his blood boil. He wanted to hit him—wanted to do worse than hit him, but he can't let his temper get the best of him. Not when innocent people are around.
Natsu growls low in his throat, having half a mind to turn around, but thinking better of it. Besides, Lucy can handle herself, she's made that very clear. Three times now, in fact. She managed to steal from the King of Pergrande, not an easy feat in itself. The city must have been crawling with soldiers, but she made it miles without being caught. That's something to be proud of. She held her own against him, something he admires her for. He couldn't feel anything at the time, because of the collar and his rage, but she fought through the pain, putting up one hell of a fight. His jaw still smarts from where she clocked him, if only when he moves the wrong way. And just now, not only did she mange to hold him back with one hand and a firm word, so also sent a heavily armed man twice her size stumbling with a single hit.
There's something special about her, he's beginning to notice. It's not her faint magic or the wind that seems to stir around her, but the fierceness behind her smile, behind her eyes. It's the undeniable bravery that she seems to radiate.
It's almost amusing, in a way. His first friend in years and she's a spitfire, maybe even worse than him when he was younger. Natsu was a troublemaker before they beat him down, a hellion, Igneel called him once, and he can feel that part of him wanting to crawl out of his skin.
He follows behind her until she settles, her grip on him slackens, though only slightly, but her heart keeps racing. He can hear it beating, loud and angry in its pounding. She rounds on him suddenly, getting right into his face in a way that would make him snap if it were anyone else.
"What did he call me?" she demands, honey eyes flashing with something dangerous. He goes rigid at the question, mouth going dry as it registers in his mind. He shakes his head slowly, jaw locking. Lucy's glare sharpens, gaze locking with his and leaving no room for an argument. After a moment, her eyes soften, though not by much. "Natsu, what did he call me?" she asks again, the ferocity leaving her words.
Her thumb brushes along his knuckles soothingly, and Natsu considers telling her, knowing she has a right to know, but the words stick in his throat. He doesn't like the way they sound, doesn't like the way they taste on his tongue, and, indirect as it would be, he refuses to call her those names. There's something vile and degrading about them, and he won't—can't—tell her what they mean.
Skidjøte is nothing more than a disgusting word. It doesn't translate well into any tongue, the closest it comes in meaning is that of calling someone a filthy whore. It could be worse, he knows, but there's a certain connotation to it when used by non-Berserks, and Natsu doesn't like the implication.
Because the guard didn't just call her a whore, he implied that she was Natsu's whore, and that's something he won't stand for. The people of Pergrande consider Berserks to be less than human, less than animal. To say that Lucy is even less than that.
A snarl rips from his throat and Lucy takes a half step back, releasing his hand. She breathes his name, so soft he almost doesn't hear her, but it snaps him out of his thoughts in an instant. Her eyes are wide when he looks at her, concerned but not afraid.
"Don't—" he tells her softly, keeping his voice low though not unkind. He chokes off, swallowing thickly and grinding his teeth. He has to look away from her for a long moment, not wanting to snap. His hands clench and unclench rapidly, an itch in his bones that he doesn't recognize. Sighing, he turns back to her, eyes pleading. "Don't make me say it out loud," he murmurs.
Lucy stares at him for several seconds, eyes searching his. She nods after a moment, gaze going soft. "Okay," she tells him, giving him another nod and a shaky smile. "Okay." She turns on her heel without another word, continuing to walk back into town. Natsu follows after a moment, easily matching her pace. "You know," she tells him, changing the subject, "when I stole the necklace I had to—"
He cuts her off. "Don't," he says again, a sour taste in his mouth. He hasn't put much thought into how she got it back, knowing it must not have been pretty. Natsu doesn't know how far she would go, but imagining it leaves a sick feeling in his stomach. "You don't need to tell me," he murmurs, both for her sake and for his. She doesn't owe him an explanation and he doesn't think he wants any of his thoughts to be confirmed.
She ignores him, continuing as if he hadn't said anything, though she does edge around the topic. "His guard's weren't very smart," Lucy tells him, peeking up at him from the corner of her eye. "They let me walk right in." She grins and Natsu snorts, huffing a small laugh.
"Must be suckers for a pretty face," he says, glancing down at her with a small smile. Her eyes seem to brighten when they meet his. "What did you do?" he asks softly, curious by leery.
Her smile is secretive, mischievous, and it pulls at something in his gut. "Crushed jasmine and a sleeping spell," she whispers, as if it's a secret only for him.
Stumbling, Natsu is startled into a laugh. Jasmine—especially the hybrid cousin from Fiore—can knock even the largest of men flat in only a few seconds, and that's with only a small dose. A Fae spell would only enhance that. The King wouldn't have had a chance. Lucy tricked him, made a fool of him for thinking her harmless. The King should have known better than that. No one who would dare walk into Ðüskell on their own volition is harmless.
He wonders if that's why he was ordered to kill her, but doesn't linger on the thought.
Natsu stops suddenly, Lucy turning back to look at him, her head tilting to one side in a silent question. Her amusement dims after a moment, Natsu staring at her in silent awe. She says nothing, lips twisting into a frown. He sends her a soft smile. "You're brilliant," he tells her, meaning it wholeheartedly, "you know that?" He doesn't think he's ever met someone quite so resourceful.
Her eyes brighten, but her lips don't curl back into a smile like he was hoping. She holds his gaze for a long moment. "We'll get out of here," she tells him, his eyes narrowing at the sudden change in topic. Lucy doesn't appear to notice, once again looking away from him and continuing the way they were going.
"How do you know that?" he asks, foot stuck to the ground as she gets farther and farther away. She doesn't stop, doesn't look back, and Natsu has the sudden thought that she's looking for a chase.
Her hair swishes against her back, loose and tangled, sloppy braids coming undone. "Because we've both been through worse," she calls back to him, tossing him a look over her shoulder, eyes bright with something unfamiliar.
Natsu frowns, finally forcing his feet to move. He catches up to her quickly, staring down at her in bewilderment. "Do you have a plan?" he asks, wetting his lips. He hopes so, because his best idea is to bolt as soon as they have the opportunity, which is less of a plan and more of a vague spontaneous idea.
Her grin turns feral, absolutely wicked when she looks at him. "Wait for the fighting," she tells him simply, baring her teeth, "then run like hell."
Natsu barks out a laugh, eyes flashing with excitement.
Natsu growls low in his throat when he sees movement out of the corner of his eyes, it's quick, a flash of steel, but it's enough to gain his rapt attention. He eyes the man across the pub wearily, lips pulling back over his teeth when the man spins the blade between his fingers, gaze trained on the door, waiting for something to happen. Anything.
Waiting for a war.
Dusk has settled around them, the bar loud and merry, people dancing and laughing, none knowing what's bound to happen tonight. His chest aches for them, wondering how many will die tonight, wondering how many know about the fight but have resigned themselves to smiling and putting up a front. He doesn't like it, it feels wrong, like wearing those collars, but almost worse. This time, he only has himself to blame for the things he's doing.
The man stands suddenly, and Natsu is quick to follow. Lucy's head snaps up at his sudden movement, eyes wide and almost nervous. She's faster than him, hand lashing out to catch him by the elbow before he can storm off. She doesn't say anything, but he can see the concern in her honey eyes, the confusion. He shakes her hand off, but reaches out to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Natsu's eyes lock with hers and he tries to send her a reassuring smile, but it comes out strained, more of a grimace than anything else. "I'll be right back," he promises her, leaning down to whisper the words against her ear.
Lucy doubtful, but nods slowly, trusting him enough to keep his word. His chest squeezes at the amount of faith in her eyes, and he lets his hand slide up to her neck, fingertips light against her skin as his thumb brushes against her jaw. She leans into him, so slight he almost doesn't notice, and sends him a small smile.
He pulls away from her quickly, spinning on his heel to follow the man with the knife. He's trouble, Natsu knows it, he just doesn't know how much. Natsu trails him easily, not losing sight of him, despite the crowded room. He doesn't go far, only a few tables away from where he originally sat, but he settles into a table with three other men, all with grime faces and decorated with thin, leather armor, much different than the shining gold used by Pergrande.
Natsu's eyes narrow as he notices something curled around each man's wrist. A scarf, he thinks, soft and very blue, so dark it looks almost black.
Mithriel's colors, he realizes after a moment. The men are freedom fighters, all of them.
His throat constricts suddenly, the man with the knife looking up to meet his gaze. Natsu sends him a slow nod, swallowing thickly.
Natsu holds his gaze for a long moment, waiting for the man to react, but he never does. Instead, his eyes rip away from Natsu's a sudden, terrified scream tearing through the air. For a long moment, nothing happens. The pub goes silent, Natsu holds his breath, a shiver snaking its way up his spine. Then, the sound of a low horn splits through the silence, low and eerie.
It's a single note, simple enough, but Natsu is intelligent enough to know what it means, despite not being familiar with it.
Everything happens at once.
The men lurch from the table, weapons drawn, and in the time it takes Natsu to blink there's already blood being shed. People start screaming panicking, and Natsu stumbles backwards when a man shoves him aside. He smells smoke, the thick, black kind that comes just before a wicked fire.
Gold glints in the firelight, soldiers of Pergrande swarming the room and slashing at leather and blue cloth. And there's blood, so much blood, and it fills his nose and mouth until he chokes on it. It makes him dizzy and he stumbles back another step, breathing heavily.
He can feel the thrill of the fight pulling at him, but he shoves it back, grinding his teeth together and shaking his head, eyes squeezing shut. They need to get out of here. He needs to find Lucy—Lucy. His snap open, raw fear clawing at his throat when he remembers she's somewhere across the room.
Panicking, Natsu spins around, only to narrowly miss being impaled by a sharp pike. He catches the metal shaft in his fist, the metal tip barely grazing against the outside of his arm, and snarls at his assailant. He sees gold and allows himself to react violently. Moving fast, Natsu yanks the soldier towards him, roaring as he catches the man by his throat. He barely hears a scream as he swings them around, tossing the soldier against the nearest wall, a sick satisfaction crawling through him when he hears a sharp crack.
The man doesn't get up, but Natsu doesn't care. He whirls around, lips pulled back over his teeth, and shoves his way through the crowd, snapping and snarling at anything in his path. He avoids the fighting when he can, but doesn't shy away from the blood when it comes near him.
His bones practically hum, excitement coursing through his veins that eagerness to fight rearing it's head. A beast claws at his belly, aching to be let out, but he refuses to let it. He can fight later, can let the beast and the anger control him some other time, but not now, not when they need to leave. He won't abandon Lucy for the sake of quelling the sick thirst for fighting inside him.
Natsu's hip slams against the table they were sitting at, but Lucy is gone, their things gone, and he can't even smell her, the air is so thick with violence. He searches for a wisp of stardust, but finds nothing, only blood and sweat and rage—so intense it almost bowls him over.
It isn't the synthetic rage of the King, or the bloodlust of the Berserks, but something else, something created from one-hundred years of bitterness and hatred, something left to stew for too long, inevitably leading to it spilling over.
The people of Jorah have a hated so fierce that Natsu can smell it.
He spins around, desperately calling Lucy's name, head snapping around as he searches for blonde hair in the sea of darkness storming through the pub. He can't find her, and suddenly it's like a fist is wrapped around his throat, like he's choking again, just like when he fought the other Berserk only a few days ago. He can't breathe, can barely think, everything is happening so fast.
He hears a scream from his right and twists to face it, meeting the eyes of a man with a short-sword raised high above his head, the blade angle to kill. Natsu's eyes widen, the breath catching in his throat, and the blade is about to swing down when he hears a sick thwack.
The soldier stumbles, eyes wide as he coughs suddenly. Blood leaks from the corner of his mouth, slow at first, but then it comes in great gushes. The man chokes, an arrow lodged in his throat. He staggers, legs buckling beneath him, and starts to fall. His hand lashes out, fingers wrapping around the thin shaft of the arrow gently before ripping it from the man's flesh.
Blood splatters across his face and chest, but Natsu doesn't react when the soldier hits the floor, seizing.
He snaps around, holding the arrow delicately, and meets honey eyes and wild blonde hair. She's a mess and there's blood on the side of her face, but she's alive and mostly unharmed, which makes him relax, if only for a moment. "Natsu," Lucy breathes his name, a similar relief in her own eyes. She drops her arm to the side, bow clenched in her fist.
Natsu inhales sharply, legs moving quickly. He reaches her side in an instant, arm looping around her waist as he jerks her forward. She's tugged into his chest, Natsu not giving either of them a moment to breathe as he starts stumbling towards the door, shoving at people in his way. "We need to leave," he growls, just loud enough for her to hear over the fighting. "Now."
She nods sharply, and then suddenly it's Lucy pulling him towards the door, lither frame better weaving between bodies than his ever could. She slips away from him briefly, but her hand shoots back to wrap around his wrist before she can be swallowed by the crowd. She pulls him towards her, sparing him a quick glance as she drags him along.
It's worse when they get outside. They shove open the door, spilling out into the open air and cobblestone paths, only to be hit with the smell of burning flesh. Natsu gags at the smell, bile rising in his throat, and tugs Lucy against his side once more. The ground is littered with bodies: men, women, children, some of them soldiers, but most not. All burned, warped beyond recognition, and Natsu can't begin to understand how they burned so much so fast. He can see bones beneath the blackened, charred skin, flesh peeled away and muscles warped.
Lucy shivers against his side, and Natsu shakes his head, yanking her away from the bodies and the smell, staggering towards the West gate and pulling her along behind him. Lucy comes willingly, matching his speed as the two wind through the streets.
They don't run into much trouble, managing to slip by the guards and the soldiers, avoiding the bloodbath.
He hears a snapping sound, a snarl, and yanks Lucy close to his chest, the collides with him roughly, stealing his breath, but Natsu ignores her mumbles questions, gaze darting around the bloody streets. Her hand fumbles against his, and Natsu curses, shoving her away from him just as a body crashes into his back, sending Natsu and his attacked tumbling to ground. Lucy screams his name, but it's drowned out by the sound of roaring in his ears.
Natsu knows what it is before he opens his eyes: Berserks.
His lips pull back over his teeth, a terrifying snarl rumbling through his chest. Blood and dirt and fury cloud his senses and he swings back with his elbow, bone colliding with something that snaps when he hits it. The weight slips from his back and Natsu rolls, lashing out with his foot as soon as he sees blue eyes and a gold collar, red gem glinting in the low light.
It's dark, no moon to light the sky, the perfect time for a surprise attack.
His fist slams into the other Berserks jaw, a crack splitting the air as Natsu feels bones shatter, his or the other Berserk's, he can't be sure. A yelp rips through the air, but Natsu doesn't dwell on it, other hand swinging forward to through the other Berserk back. He rolls several feet, but he's faster than Natsu, not so heavily injured.
Pain wracks his skull as his head is slammed into the ground, a snarl coming from above him. Black spots dot his vision, snapping teeth stark and white against the backdrop of darkness. Saliva drips onto his face and he struggles to shove the other Berserk off, but his limbs feel heavy, the stitches in his chest pulling tightly and threatening to snap.
There's movement in the corner of his eye, and then the weight is gone from his chest, a crack and then a shriek of pain splitting the air. He blinks and suddenly Lucy is hovering over him, yanking him off the ground in a hurry. Natsu follows blindly, allowing her to pull him up and lead him away.
Something crackles behind him and he shakes off Lucy's hand, turning back to face the Berserk closing in on them. He doesn't look at Lucy when she grabs at him again, merely shifts so she can't touch him. The other Berserk stands, a bruise rapidly spreading across his jaw, and Natsu realizes Lucy must have hit him with her bow like she did to him. He knows from experience how much it stings, but he also knows that right now the Berserk can't feel a thing.
"Natsu," Lucy murmurs, placing a soft hand against his shoulder. The berserk eyes them both, and Natsu snarls, forcing Lucy back a step, hiding her behind his larger frame. A jolt goes down Natsu's spine as he sees the utterly blank eyes of the other berserk, hints of anger spilling into the vacant eyes. Natsu sees something that startles him: a nothingness.
He looked like that, too, once.
"Lucy, go," he mumbles, pressing a hand to her hip and shoving her away. She gasps, stumbling, and Natsu momentarily feels guilty. But he remains firm, gaze locked on the other Berserk, eyes determined.
She ignores him, snarling a "no!" right back at him, and something like pride pulses in his chest, but behind that is a lingering fear. He turns briefly, whirling on her, and finds her already looking up at him, eyes hard and colder than anything he's ever seen. They flash at him, and he can feel the wind picking up, slow, but noticeable. His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. "Lucy—" he starts, but something in her eyes makes him pause, something determined and regretful.
Natsu realizes she must have hated herself for leaving him behind last time, almost as much as he hates himself for hurting her before.
"Okay," he tells her, giving a jerky nod. "Okay."
She's covered in dirt and blood and he thinks he can see a bruise forming on her cheek, but she sends him a small smile that could only be described as beautiful and fierce. That's when he knows she doesn't need him to protect her, but he'll do it anyway, for as long as he can. A smile like that is something worth protecting.
The other Berserk lunges, and Lucy has an arrow nocked before he can blink. She releases, the arrow flying down the street, and Natsu's head snaps around in time to watch it become embedded in flesh, a shoulder hit. She can't make a kill shot, not with the collar in the way, and Natsu doesn't know what to do. They don't have time for a brawl, and the Berserk won't stop unless they kill him.
He stumbles forward, still coming despite the wound in his arm, and Natsu lashes out with his foot, knocking the Berserk back and sweeping his legs out from beneath him. He snarls at them, bellowing in rage, as he rips himself off the ground. Natsu barely has enough time to duck to the side, narrowly missing a blow to the head. He growls back, slamming his shoulder against the other Berserk and sending him skittering back.
Again, the Berserk lunges, but there's a flash of steel, a pike embedding itself deep into the Berserk's stomach, ripping through his uncovered torso and twisting. He's thrown to the side, the pike ripped from his stomach with sick, wet sound.
There's a man there, tall and middle-aged, beard grizzly and matted with blood and dirt, eyes dark as he stares at Natsu. No, passed Natsu. Natsu growls, feeling Lucy behind him, her hand steady against his arm. She squeezes suddenly, a soft gasp coming from her, and Natsu fidgets, unsure if the man is an enemy or not.
"Bard," she whispers, Natsu recognizing the name immediately. He doesn't relax, however, eyeing the bloody pike with distaste. The man reacts to the sound of his name, and he manages a rough smile, nodding at her shortly. He doesn't look at Natsu at all, almost as if he isn't there.
Bard wets his lips, then spits out blood. "I'll 'andle them, Lass," he tells Lucy, giving her a jerky nod, gaze slipping to the stunned Berserk. "You best be goin'," he grumbles, raising his pike defensively as the Berserk stands slowly, shaking his head and blinking rapidly.
Natsu stares in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. He's never seen a human kill a Berserk before, they just keep coming, nothing stops them unless their heart or lungs give out. "You won't last ten minutes," he tells Bard suddenly, not meaning for the words to come out. The man's eyes snap to Natsu, cold, though not malicious.
He quirks a brow, head tilting to one side in thought. His eyes drift to Lucy for only a moment before snapping back to Natsu. " 'ow long did she last?" he asks casually. Lucy flinches and Natsu snarls, taking a threatening step forward and shoving back the shame in his heart. Lucy grabs his hand, soft touch calming him, though only momentarily. He growls at Bard, who snorts. "Don't underestimate us, Lad," he snaps. "You could snap our necks, yes, but ya bleed just like the rest o' us."
There must be a question in their eyes, wondering how he knows what Natsu is, but Bard merely shrugs, unconcerned. "Peg doesn't keep secrets," he tells them, turning his back to them and facing the Berserk, coming between them. "Not from me."
Natsu takes the opportunity to edge Lucy back, away from the fighting, keeping her close to his back. "Why are you helping us?" he finds himself mumbling, eyes narrowed at the other man. He doesn't understand it, Bard, Peg, even Lucy. They all know what he is, what he can do, but they act like he's not some kind of beast.
Bard snorts, barking out a laugh that's not at all friendly. "I'm not," he tells them, rolling his shoulders. "Now git," he snaps, lunging for the Berserk.
Natsu doesn't hesitate as he spins around and grabs Lucy by the arm, bolting down the street in a hurry. She matches his speed, but slips when they round a corner, crashing into his side. He steadies her with one hand, but doesn't slow as they head west. Natsu only prays that the gate is unmanned. He won't be kind to anyone that gets in his way.
The sounds of fighting grow quieter, and Natsu tries not to think of Bard left behind, or Peg and her broom and sharp tongue. He didn't know either of them, not really but there's something bitter about thinking they could die tonight. They weren't his friends, he'll probably never think of them again or remember them within a few short weeks, and that leaves a strange taste in his mouth.
He shoves the thought away, feeling Lucy's fingers curl through his. She overtakes him, legs moving faster than he would have guessed. He supposes it's a miracle he caught up with her in the first place, she was likely only slowed by her ankle. He glances down at her leg, concern flashing in his eyes. She seems fine now, but he doesn't know how long her leg will hold.
Something moves on his left, and Natsu releases Lucy's hand, coming to a sudden halt and whipping around. His hand wraps around skin, and he slams a body against a building, hearing a wet, choked gasp. His eyes narrow, a growl in his throat, and suddenly he recognizes the man as the guard from the gate, the one that insulted Lucy.
His hand squeezes tightly, intentionally, and Natsu's lips curve back over his teeth, baring them at the other man. His eyes spark with fear at Natsu's snarl, and he considers snapping the man's neck. It would be easy, Natsu thinks he deserves it for what he said.
Satisfaction curls through his stomach when he sees a red welt on the man's face, Lucy leaving her mark on his skin. He squeezes tighter and the man wheezes, clawing at his wrist.
His thoughts go cloudy, the man's pulse racing beneath his fingers, and the anger inside him grows, threatening to spillover into a frenzy.
Arms curl around him, stilling him. Lucy rests a hand against his stomach, her forehead pressed between his shoulders. For a long moment she says nothing, just holds him loosely. She takes a step back, arms still around him, and Natsu follows her, grip slipping from the other man.
"Natsu, let him go," she murmurs against his ear. "Let him go."
He does, and Lucy's hand finds his as they run through the black gates of Jorah, disappearing into the mountains and leaving the city to burn behind them.
AN: Edited 4/14/18. I'll likely post two or three updated chapters tomorrow. Evidently, I stopped including ANs in my word docs at some point, so those are all gone. Oops.