AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!
EDITED 4/15/18 Changes made throughout. And mention of Cobra is new to the chapter.
Berserk
Chapter Nineteen
{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}
Lucy huffs as she trudges through the snow, which has been gradually getting deeper and deeper since they entered Mithriel two days ago. At first, it wasn't too bad. The snow was up to her mid-calves at the highest, the air still warmer so close to the border. Lucy could walk fine for the first day and a half, used to hiking for long periods of time due to Makarov's trading business. Rarer ingredients for his tonics or the occasional precious gem were never easy to come by, requiring more climbing and running than Lucy could say she liked. She's been running errands for Makarov and Cobra for years now, through all kinds of climates and terrains. She's used to it.
However, by the second morning the snow grew immensely, now up to her knees at the lowest, and even higher on her thighs when she took a wrong step. She hadn't had to deal with this during her first pass through Mithriel, though that was some weeks back, during the brief summer of the ice bound lands. There's only a short window of time where the ice and snow is tolerable in the mountainous region and she was hoping to be to Pergrande and back before the long winter began to wake.
There was snow when she first past through, yes, but not nearly so much as there is now, a fact that Lucy can't help but lament. She never wanted to be caught in this sort of weather, not when she's just as likely to freeze out here as she is to make it out alive. Given the choice, she would have waited until spring to leave for Pergrande, wait until the first thaw and make it home before winter returned, but that was out of her hands. Makarov and Cobra couldn't wait. The deal was too important, and waiting until spring wouldn't have been possible. Veridian Viper eggs, the kind that Cobra needed so badly, are rarely laid around that time.
Cobra may be her friend, but a deal is a deal. He wouldn't have given her the venom Makarov needed without those eggs. That's simply the way business works for people like them. No one gets something for nothing, and she knows from experience just how ruthless Cobra could be at times. It's what caused so much trouble between him and Loke all those years ago and sent Cobra and Kinana running to Pergrande. Though, Loke did bring that on himself. Cobra never would have sold his secrets if Loke hadn't cheated him out of a deal.
It's a ruthless game they all play.
Not for the first time, Lucy finds her thoughts drifting back to her friends in Pergrande, wondering if any of them are still alive. A part of her thinks she would know if they weren't, but she can never be quite sure if the feelings she gets are because of her Fae blood or something else entirely. She won't have news about them until she returns to Fiore, and that's only if she and Natsu can survive the freezing temperatures of Mithriel.
At least she had the sense to pack for the cold, exchanging her sleeveless jacket for a heavier one, leather and weather proof, the inside lined with wool. A gift from Laxus on her last birthday, though she hadn't the chance to use it much, given how fair Fiore's weather is.
They have winter, of course, a relatively violent one at that, but it only lasts for a few weeks, two months at most, and that's only near the mountains in the north. Fiore is surrounded by the ocean on three sides, so the weather is fairly consistent near the coast. They have rain more than snowstorms, even during the darkest nights of winter.
Fiore's climate left her woefully unprepared for this kind of weather, something more frustrating than anything else. Despite her efforts, Lucy can't seem to remain unstuck for more than a few steps, her boots cursed to find the worst places to land. It wouldn't be nearly as bad if she weren't falling behind. Annoying, yes, but she wouldn't be nearly as cross.
Natsu, of course, is having no trouble at all with the ice and snow, moving forward with ease, several paces ahead of her, despite not knowing where to go. He glances back at her every few feet, checking to make sure the ice hasn't swallowed her up. There's an amused twinkle in his gaze whenever he peeks back at her, watching her stumble along behind him. Less noticeable is the look of relief in his eyes when he sees her right behind him.
Worrying her lip, Lucy tries not to think about her arm and the winding spider-veins curling from her shoulder down passed her elbow, her skin pale, but the veins black as night. The chill seems to soothe the ache, Lucy barely able to feel it now. That, or she's become so used to the sensation that she's simply come to ignore it. A dangerous thing she knows. It's no good to become used to pain, numb to it. It always leads to worse consequences.
She's been checking on it every morning, usually when Natsu's still asleep. It's gotten worse, even if the pain is dulled. She's been trying to keep it as clean as she can, using what little of Makarov's paste she has left and rewrapping it every morning. The dark veins make her nervous, but it's not an infection, she's come to realize. Her arm isn't swollen and there's no fever. She doesn't think it's blood poisoning either. It's something else, but she doesn't know what—just that it's bad.
The only good part about the weather is that it's made the wound easier to hide. Her jacket covers her arms and the bandage and the black veins. She doesn't have to worry about Natsu noticing, not if she's careful. He was cautious around her arm when he could see the bandage, eyeing it wearily. His nose always wrinkled when he saw it, as if he knew something was wrong, but didn't want to say anything.
In Jorah, Natsu asked her why she still wore the bandage, worry clear in his eyes. She only smiled back at him, shrugging and telling him about her friend back home who wears bandages around his hands, from wrist to knuckle.
He didn't seem to believe her, but he didn't press.
Honestly, Lucy doesn't know why she hasn't told him. She's been meaning to—she's tried, but every time she does the words stick in her throat, and Lucy can't physically force them out. That's what scared her more than anything. Despite trying to tell him—to show him what's wrong, it's like something's stopping her, something stronger than she is.
Like there's something else in her head.
At first, she didn't say anything because she didn't think it was a big deal. It was just a bite, it would go away eventually. And it did. The puncture wounds have sealed over, leaving four little silver scars on her upper arm. In all, they healed nicely, compared to some of the scars she's seen.
Later, she didn't want to tell him because she knew he would blame himself for it, even though he wasn't in control at the time. Lucy knows he hasn't forgiven himself for attacking her, even if she's long since done so. And she knows—she knows that he won't be able to look her in the eyes if he sees her arm. The last thing she wants is for him to slink back into the darkest corners of his mind.
And she wants to tell him, she really does, but she can't.
That terrifies her more than anything else.
Her shaky hand drifts to her arm, fingers curling above her new scars, prodding gently at where she knows the veins have started, feeling for any aches, but finding none. They don't hut anymore, not during the daytime. It's not until after dark that it hits her, Lucy feeling like her entire arm is on fire, nerve endings flaring with pain.
It's getting harder to ignore when the sun goes down. She hasn't been sleeping much since they left Jorah, hasn't been talking much either. She's knows that's worrying him, too.
As if knowing she's thinking about him, Natsu stops walking from several feet ahead, twisting around to grin at her, a brow quirked as he watches her struggle through the knee high snow. His lips twitch n amusement. "I thought you were supposed to be leading me," he calls out, eyes shinning with mischief.
Baring her teeth, Lucy hisses at him. "You best wipe that grin off your face before I do it for you, Natsu," she snaps back, unamused with his quips. He's been laughing at her for the past two days, cracking jokes at her expense every mile or two, just to lighten the mood.
Truthfully, she's rather thankful for it. She hasn't much felt like talking at all, but Lucy thinks the silence would eat away at her if neither of them said anything. She doesn't mind the quiet, but that doesn't mean she likes it much either.
"So sassy," he tells her, chuckling under his breath as he waits for her to catch up. He's still grinning when she finally slides up beside him, glaring when he tries to bite back his grin. Natsu holds his hands up in a placating gesture, reaching out to steady her when she nearly trips, foot caught in the snow.
Lucy huffs, sending him a glare, but there's no fire there, only something like mock-defeat. She heaves a sigh. "Your legs are longer than mine," Lucy mumbles, complaining slightly. Honestly, if she were only a few inches taller this wouldn't be so much of an issue.
She hates being this small, all her height has ever done is give her grief, especially from her family and Cobra. She can't reach things on the shelves in Makarov's shop and her brothers never fail to remind her of it. If she were to tell the truth, she would admit that she nearly cried when Romeo outgrew her by a head when he was only thirteen. Laxus laughed at her then, and Lucy pouted for a good week when she realized she was now the smallest of the three. And Cobra was never shy about mocking her for her height, teasing her often before he left for Pergrande.
It's unfair, but at least she still has a few inches on Makarov. The older man has been shrinking for nearly a decade now, though he was never the tallest to begin with. She can't remember a time where he was any taller than five feet, though she can't remember much from her childhood at all until after her mother was killed.
Natsu quirks a brow, head tilting to the side in thought as he considers what she's said. He purses his lips, giving her a quick once-over. "Do you want me to carry you?" he asks, sounding, by all accounts, entirely serious, save for the laughter dancing in his eyes. He can't hold his sincere expression for long, his lips pulling back to reveal a toothy grin.
"Brute," Lucy sniffs, sending him a nasty look. It doesn't last long. Natsu chuckles in response, and she can't help but crack a smile at the mirth dancing across his face, his eyes lighting up when she sends him a small pout. She has to bite her lip to keep from laughing, but suddenly she doesn't feel quite so heavy, thoughts of her arm shoved far back into the precipice of her mind.
She glances up, watching Natsu's face turn towards the sky, his eyes lighting up when a flurry of snowflakes descends on them. The crystals stick to their hair, peppering Natsu's bright locks with dots of white. They land on his lashes, Natsu blinking rapidly when they get too close to his eyes. She gives a breathy laugh and he looks back at her, smiling.
"You really like the snow, don't you?" she asks, reaching up to ruffle her hair, sending flakes scattering around them. Snow coats her lashes, the iciness tickling her skin, nipping at her. She wrinkles her nose at the feeling, wrapping her arms firmly around her middle.
He nods, staring at the falling snow in wonder. "It reminds me of Alvarez," he tells her softly, a small smile pulling at his lips. Natsu locks eyes with her, only briefly, but his eyes alight with something joyful, something that doesn't make him look so tired, something that makes him look a bit younger, youthful. "It snowed nine months out of the year there," he murmurs, breathing in the chilly air deeply.
She stares at him in wonder. "What was it like?" she asks him, the pair of them standing in the middle of the snow covered hills, nothing around them but trees for miles and miles. The world is quiet, just the two of them standing there, gazing around at the soft snowfall in absolute amazement. "I know you told me before, but…" she trails off, smiling apologetically.
Lucy was half-asleep when he told her, drifting in and out of focus. She wishes she had been more awake, or paid more attention, but she'll listen again, if he's willing to tell her.
He considers her question for a long moment, gaze snapping to hers, pinning her in place. "Quiet," he murmurs eventually. "Peaceful." His expression dims, something dark entering his green eyes, icy and cruel. "At least," he spits, hands clenching at his sides, "until the traders came. They ransacked the place, destroyed everything in their paths." Natsu scoffs, shoving his fists deep into the pockets of his jacket. "Didn't give a damn about any of us besides what they could sell us for." A low, threatening growl spills from his throat, but Lucy knows it isn't for her. "They used to burn everything to the ground," he finishes lowly.
Wetting her lips, Lucy looks down at her boots, ignoring the snowflakes accumulating in her hair. "And that's when they brought you to Fiore," she guesses, wincing. Shame creeps into her chest, Lucy worrying her lip between her teeth.
It's not a question, but Natsu answers regardless. He nods, whispers a quiet "yeah" that's almost ripped away with the wind. Lucy almost doesn't hear him. Almost, but she does, his voice soft, something broken in that single word. He doesn't look at her, eyes trained on the white sky, blue masked by the millions of snowflakes tumbling around then, the land stark, empty.
"I'm sorry," she tells him suddenly, stepping up beside him. She reaches out with one hand, bare fingers curling around the crook of his elbow. He snaps around, blinking down at her, confused, but Lucy can't meet his eyes for a log moment. "About what they did, to you and your family," she clarifies, finally looking up into his eyes. "I'm sorry." She holds his gaze, an apology in her eyes. Her fingers squeeze around his arm gently before she drops the limb back to her side.
Natsu's eyes narrow, but not in the anger she was expecting, only bewilderment. He reaches out to her, pushing her long, messy hair out of her face, the wind stinging her eyes. "Wasn't your fault," he mumbles, sending her a tight smile.
He's not mad, she knows—not at her, anyway, but Lucy thinks she has enough anger in her for the both of them.
Lucy gives him a wry smile, lips curving back over her teeth, not quite a snarl, but something close. "No," she agrees, something bitter crawling up from her throat. "But it was my country's," Lucy says firmly.
Fiore, despite what some may say, is really not different from Pergrande. They both make beasts out of boys.
The rings have been getting better, yes, but not by much. Ever since the fabled Red Night, the Fiorian government has placed laws on the rings, lax as they may be. Fighters are war criminals or men with too much to prove, Fiore ending it's slave trade with Bosco nearly a decade ago. Some royal families hire fighters, entering them in bloody fights and repaying them in gold, all for the prestige of it.
Lucy has never seen the rings herself, only heard terrible stories from Makarov and Laxus, him being old enough to be brought to one by his father. It was only once, and Laxus refused to speak for a week afterwards, too shaken by what he saw. The only fighting ring still in existence is the Domus Flau, the largest, centered in the capital. There are fights everyday, at midnight, like clockwork.
She doesn't understand why rich men want to watch others tear each other to pieces, but it makes her sick to think about.
They walk together in silence for several minutes, Lucy struggling to keep up with his much longer strides until Natsu slows down for her, taking shorter steps and hurrying to tug her along when she gets stuck. While Lucy can't say she enjoys being man-handled like this, she knows that the faster they move, the better things will be for the pair of them.
There are Rogues this far east, huge bands of them just waiting to ambush anyone they come across, needing the supplies. Lucy was lucky not to come across any of them one her way through before, but now that Winter is coming Lucy's sure they'll be on the move.
Pausing, she wonders how far the smoke from Jorah's massacre spread into the sky. If anyone saw it, they'll be heading right for them, looking for survivors trying to escape into Mithriel. The thought makes her shiver, teeth gritting in disgust.
"So what's winter in Fiore like?" Natsu asks her suddenly, peering down at her curiously, one brow quirked. He half twists around to help yank her out of a snow bank when her leg sinks in up to just above her knee. He doesn't laugh, but she can see the twitch of amusement on his lips.
Again, she curses her too short legs, wishing she could walk without stumbling about like a baby deer. At this rate, they'll be lucky to make it to Fiore before next summer, though she doubts the pair of them could last that long. At least, Lucy knows she wouldn't.
She frowns at his question, wishing they had stuck to the road, but knowing that would be as good as offering herself up to the Rogues directly, handing them her bag and weapons without a fight. "Cold," she tells him after a moment, finding it easier when she follows in his footsteps, having to hop to match his strides. "And wet," Lucy tacks on, wrinkling her nose when she feels snow melting in her boot, her stockings damp and chilly, squishing with every step she takes.
He snorts, fingers looping around her wrist to hold her steady. "Sounds like most winters," he replies, wetting his lips before turning his back to her, watching the area in front of them—for Rogues or something else, she can't be sure. There isn't much to look at in Mithriel.
The snow is beautiful, yes, but Lucy can find that just about anywhere. Perhaps the land would be prettier, she thinks, if it weren't so barren, so lifeless. The mountains are too far north for them to see, closer to the coast, and the great pine forests are to the south. They might come across Herne, great, shaggy elk type creatures, white as the snow with antlers twisting above them like the branches of a tree.
Fae Deer, they've been called, light on their feet and rarely seen. Some think they're only a myth, a story for children, but Lucy knows better. The Herne are real, though they don't appear to just anyone. Her mother told her they were Fae Deer, in a sense. Holding earthy magic deep inside them, they could sense magic in others as well, actively seeking them out at times.
Friends of the Faeborne, her mother said, holding her hand out to a great stag, his breath puffing in the crisp air.
She hums in agreement to his statement, knowing that Fiore's winters are nothing special. At least, not for most. "Basically," she says, trudging along beside him, forcing herself to match his pace. "Though," she starts, tossing him a quick look, "my family does have a recurring flock of Polarians that migrate to Fiore every year."
Polarians are an interesting bird, large and silver, with a plume of long feathers for a tail. They absolutely sparkle in the sunlight, pretty to look at, friendly too. And exceptionally fast. Not any people can catch a Polarian, the birds seeming to be one with the winter winds.
"Really?" Natsu asks, raising a brow at her. He looks mildly impressed, something fond in his expression. She figures he remembers them from his own childhood, the winter birds migrating from Alvarez to Ishgar every year, preferring Fiore's fairer weather to the peek of the Alverez winter.
Lucy smiles to herself, thinking of home, her brothers always chasing after the birds when they were younger. Romeo was always particularly fond of them bits of raw meat whenever he could. "Yeah," she murmurs back. "They're pretty friendly, we always feed them when we can." She looks up at him with a smile. "Romeo calls the patriarch Gunther." He snorts in laughter, but she isn't finished. "And the matriarch is Nia."
"Gunther and Nia," he repeats, disbelief thick on his tongue. He meets her gaze, Lucy's expression utterly serious, and barks out a laugh, shoulders shaking as he takes in what she's just told him.
Lucy frowns at his laughter, feeling like he's mocking her brother. She shoves at his shoulder, but he doesn't budge. He only laughs harder at her effort, only managing to smother his chuckles when she pouts up at him, more teasing than anything else. "He named them when he was seven," she defends, offended for Romeo, even if she's teased him about the same thing in the past.
She and Laxus are the only ones allowed to make fun of him for his horrible naming skills. That's how family works. She may fight with Laxus and even Romeo at times, but they're family, and she would do absolutely anything for them.
Natsu nods, the laughter never leaving his eyes, which makes her glad. She didn't like how pinched his expression was back in Jorah, in the mountains. She could tell he was nervous, uncomfortable around so many people, but also afraid. Truthfully, she was afraid too—terrified, actually.
He's at home, here, surrounded by the ice and snow.
"How old is he now?" Natsu asks suddenly, ripping her from her thoughts.
Lucy blinks up at him, eyes narrowing as she thinks about it. It's not that she doesn't remember, she wound never forget her brother's birthday, she just isn't sure how soon it is. The days have been blurring, especially lately. "About sixteen," she tells Natsu after a brief pause. "His birthday is coming up." In two months, she thinks. Enough time for her and Natsu to make it to Fiore. She just hopes he hasn't found his present in her room, the little sneak.
"That should be fun," Natsu says, shaking his head and sending a flurry of snowflakes dancing around them. He yawns suddenly, and Lucy realizes how late it's gotten, the sky beginning to darken slowly. They'll have to make camp soon. Natsu looks back at her, expression stating the same thing.
She hums in response. "Maybe." Lucy looks up at the sky, frowning when she sees dark clouds in the distance. The shapes move almost violently, twisting and curling together, a storm just waiting to happen. She hopes they can outrun it, but it's heading right for them. Lucy shakes the thought away, lips pressed into a thin line. She glances back at Natsu. "Unless Laxus finds some way to ruin it," she muses, mostly joking.
Natsu doesn't seem to understand the joke. "Does he do that often?" he murmurs, head tilting curiously to one side, his eyes narrowing just the slightest. There's something like bewilderment on his face, a shock there, as if he can't believe Laxus would ruin anything, especially not a birthday party.
"Only when he's in one of his moods," Lucy laughs, voice carried away with a gust of wind that nearly knocks her down with it. She stumbles, tripping over herself, but Natsu catches her before she can fall, hand wrapping around her bad elbow and making her flinch at the sudden flair of pain.
She glances down at her arm in confusion, eyes widening just the slightest, startled by the unexpected sting. Gasping lightly, Lucy doesn't notice Natsu stepping forward until he's already there, his other arm coming around to press against her spine, holding her steady and shielding her from the wind.
For a moment, neither say a work, Lucy too shaky from the throbbing in her arm, limb feeling like it's on fire. She grits her teeth to keep from making a sound, but Natsu must notice her pinched expression, his hands going slack as he releases her, taking a half-step back and looking at her in concern. A second passes, Lucy taking a deep breath as the burn dulls into an annoying ache, one reminiscent of jarring her elbow on a door.
Natsu doesn't relax until she sends him a small smile, the tension draining from his shoulders in seconds.
After a moment he wets his lips, swallowing thickly as he gives her a concerned look. "Do you think he'll be in one of his moods?" he asks quietly, holding firm despite the raging wind against his back. His open jacket whips around violently, caught in the gusts. A brass button almost nicks her cheek, he's so close, but Natsu doesn't pull back, only watches her closely and lets the wind beat against him.
Her lips press into a thin line, not a frown, but something close to it. "Depends," she whispers back, knowing he can hear her despite the howling around them. She takes a deep breath, holding back a cough when the freezing air burns at her lungs. Lucy rips her eyes away from his suddenly, glancing over his shoulder to peer at the dark clouds, swearing that they're moving closer.
"On what?" he breathes back, also glancing over his shoulder. He tenses when he sees the brewing squall, murmuring something Lucy can't hear, the wind whipping his words away from her before she can catch them. He glances back at her, expression pinched, but not as concerned as Lucy feels. Either the storm isn't as close as it looks, or he's putting on a brave face.
Shrugging, Lucy crosses her arms tightly over her chest, curling her arms around herself as the cold seeps into her bones. "Our best guess is the weather," she jokes, gaining a small, barely-there smile from her companion. "He gets cranky when it rains." She wrinkles her nose, remembering some of her cousin's more volatile moments, how angry he can be at times.
He nods along, seeming to understand. There's something melancholy in his eyes, so deep-rooted Lucy isn't sure it could ever come out. It takes her a moment to realize he's thinking about his own abilities, despite how different they are.
"Because of his magic?" Natsu asks suddenly, searching for clarification, or maybe he just wants her to keep talking, to take his mind off whatever's making his gaze so heavy.
She nods, biting at her lower lip absentmindedly. "Yeah," she tells him, both staring at the clouds pensively. "It acts up," Lucy continues, shuffling her feet. Her toes are freezing, legs going numb from the cold. "Makes him restless." Lucy takes a step forward, squinting at the clouds, trying to determine how close they really are.
With the landscape so flat and barren it can be a challenge to tell distance. There are no trees to help guide her.
He hums in thought, nodding briefly. Suddenly, Natsu rips his gaze away from the dark clouds, instead looking down at her, waiting until Lucy meets his eyes to speak. "Does the weather make you restless?" he murmurs back to her, Lucy straining to catch the question.
"Only during storms," she says, only half-joking. There's no humor to it, and Lucy blanches when she looks back towards the horizon. A shiver crawls up her spine, Lucy's lips twisting into a concerned frown. The cold bites at her nose and Lucy wants nothing more than to crawl in on herself, but she holds firm, hands tightening into fists at her sides.
He considers this, mulling it over for several long seconds as they stand there in the middle of nowhere, the wind beating at them and tossing their hair around their faces. "Do you think it's going to storm?" he questions, not missing the double meaning in her words.
Lucy gives a rueful smile, snarling at nothing as her lips pull back over her teeth. "I think there's always a storm."
AN: EDITED 4/15/18