AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!
EDITED: 4/28/18
Berserk
Chapter Twenty Two
{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}
Natsu drifts into wakefulness slowly, the pull of sleep still grasping at him tightly, not wanting to let him go. It's a slow process, his eyes blinking open slowly, lids heavy and head fuzzy. For a long moment he thinks he's back in his ice prison, movements slow and stiff, sleepy. He can hardly move—hardly think. It's like coming out of a daze, he's tired and warm and kind find it in him to move from where he's sprawled across the ground. His thoughts are like honey, thick with the smell of something sweet still lingering in the air.
With a groan, he finally manages to break free from the grasp of slumber, eyes blinking faster as he fights to stay awake. For a moment he's confused, unable to remember where he is or how he got here, but his mind settles after a blind moment of panic. He sighs, relaxing against the cave floor with a tired laugh, though there's nothing humorous about the situation.
Yawning, Natsu stretches his limbs, bones making a satisfying crack as he twists around, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his spine. He stares at the cave wall beside him, cracking his fingers one by one, frowning as his eyes follow the shape of a crack in the wall. The split winds high in the rock, stopping about halfway to the top. It's relatively small, nothing special, but he knows cracks like that always grow, too large to be mended but too small to be worrisome. They can cause trouble for those who aren't careful.
He rests his head against the cool ground, chill of the rock floor stinging at his forehead for only a moment before his natural heat wards it away, tuning the biting cold into a more pleasant cool feeling, soothing his burning skin. He must have overheated during the night, more so due to his emotions than any actual temperature. Nightmares always make his body feel itchy in the morning, like his skin is trying to peel back and release some of the heat inside of him.
Natsu pulls a face at the thought, disgust crawling into his throat. It's a nasty picture, he thinks, to image his skin peeled back, exposing his muscle and bone to the winter air. He can't imagine the pain it would cause.
Sighing to himself, Natsu shakes his head. Scratchy fabric brushes against his arm, drawing his rapt attention. A blanket has been tucked around him sometime during the night, though the cloth is tangled around him now, most wound tight with his legs, though a corner still stretches up his back, winding around his elbow.
Expression softening, Natsu thinks about Lucy, about how she stayed up with him for half the night, murmuring nonsense in his ear and giving him reassurance that nothing was his fault. He doesn't know how long it took them to finally drift off, just that she never once let him go, holding him together through the night as best she could.
A moment later, Natsu realizes she's gone, no longer pressed against his back like she was for the majority of the night. A burst of panic wells in his chest, but it quells almost instantly, Natsu knowing she wouldn't simply disappear on him, not after last night. Besides, Lucy is free to go where she pleases, it's not up to him to be her keeper, especially when he knows she wouldn't like it in the slightest.
Dimly, he realizes he can't hear the wind screaming any longer. The silence is strange after hearing the howling for two days and nights, almost eerie in how still the world sounds, like time has been frozen—too quiet, too motionless. It's what he imagines death is like, blankness and maybe something else.
He believes in the Old Gods, he always will, though he can't be sure an afterlife exits, maybe not for the Berserks—not for him.
With a snort, Natsu shakes away his thoughts. He pushes himself to his feet slowly, limbs heavy from his slumber. The blanket slips to the ground, tangling with his legs and nearly tripping him when he twists around, casting a quick glance around their makeshift shelter. The fire is burning low, likely only started several minutes ago, no more than ten. Lucy's bag sits close to the entrance, the blanket pinned up to let the air in—cold still, but the wild wind has stopped.
Figuring Lucy must be outside, Natsu shakes himself off, yawning silently as he runs his hand through his hair, squinting at the light spilling in, eyes still sensitive from being kept in the dark for the past few days. He hesitates, swallowing thickly and staring at the ground, unsure what he wants to do.
He thinks he should apologize for keeping her awake last night, knowing she was as tired as him, even if she wouldn't say so aloud. It would make him feel better, at the very least. His guilt is unwarranted, he knows. Natsu shouldn't have to apologize for feeling—but it's what he was trained for. Only anger was ever allowed, and even then it was a specific, violent kind of rage with a purpose of making others hurt.
Wobbling, Natsu bites at his lip, shoulders tensing as he questions what he should do. He thinks it might be best to get it done with, to clean the wound before it festers into something worse. He'd rather talk to her now, instead of having it eat away at his thoughts for hours and hours.
Making his decision, Natsu takes a careful step forward, edging towards the door quietly. He breathes a soft sigh when he ducks beneath the blanket, smiling slightly as he sees the hasty pinning job that Lucy did, the girl obviously eager to step outside for the first time in days.
She was more antsy than him, clearly not used to being kept in small spaces. He knows she didn't like it, the tight space made her nervous, Lucy constantly shifting as best she could. He guesses she would have begun to pace the room, if only there was more space.
Grinning to himself, Natsu ducks under the flap and steps into the sunlight for the first time in days. He immediately looks away, blinded by the sudden brightness. A hand comes up to cover his face, Natsu slowly squinting his eyes open, peeking out at the icy landscape, his smile only widening as he stares at the snow and clear skies.
The snow sparkles in the morning light, the sunrise turning the snow shades of red and pale orange far off towards the horizon. There's no wind that Natsu can feel, a slight breeze but nothing stronger. It isn't nearly as cold as he was expecting, the temperature higher that usual after a storm, but Natsu can't say that he minds much, enjoying the feel of the sun on his bare chest as he steps forward. The snow on the mountains nips at his bare toes, but he hardly notices as he takes another stride, then another until he's near the edge, looking down across the miles and miles of ice and snow. If he squints, he thinks he can just barely see the crests from the Iskal Mountains in the north, the peaks high as they arch over the coast of the White Sea.
He takes a deep breath, crisp winter air filling his lungs. For a moment, it stings, the ice burning at his lungs, unaccustomed to bitter cold, but then they relax, remembering the touch of the north. Natsu takes another deep breath, surprised by how good it feels not to suck in warm musty air. He much prefers the bite of winter to the hints of smoke swirling in his lungs.
Ripping his gaze from the horizon, Natsu peers around the little cliff they've settled on, Gaze sweeping around the area as he searches for Lucy, finding her easily, her hair glinting gold in the morning light, so different from the stark, sharper beauty of Mithriel. He stares for a long moment, watching the light reflect off her messy, tangled hair. His head tilts to one side, eyes narrowing just the slightest as he looks at her, a wide grin pulling at his lips as he sees the beautiful smile on her own face, Lucy looking happier than he's ever seen her before.
She doesn't notice him at first, or perhaps she just pretends not to. Natsu takes a step towards her, Lucy curled against the mountain face in a small spot devoid of snow, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff and swinging lightly. She looks up as he moves closer, smile growing larger as she sees him, though she says nothing.
Natsu hesitates a moment, hovering over her and gauging her reactions to him. He thinks he hears her huff, Lucy simply grinning before turning back to the scenery, waiting for him to make a decision, though not pressing him to do such.
His fingers curl into fists at his sides, Natsu swallowing thickly as he glances down at the snowy space on her right. Making a choice, he settles into the spot beside her, movements slow and careful as he lowers himself onto the ground, mindful of the snow and ice. Lucy shifts slightly to the left, making room for him on the clear space. Natsu takes it, thigh pressing against Lucy's as he slides in close to her, avoiding the snow as much as he can.
Neither breathe a word for some time, the pair staring at the ground below until the sunrise gives way to clear blue, not a cloud to be seen for miles. A light breeze drifts by, ruffling their hair but doing little else. Lucy curls tighter into her jacket, wearing it more like a blanket than anything. It's loose around her, buttons left undone and fabric hanging off her shoulders, revealing a sliver of her upper arm.
She appears not to notice the cold, content to bask in the sunlight, at ease despite the freezing temperature. Lucy hums lowly, Natsu straining to hear a vaguely familiar tune. He realizes with a start that it's the same one she sang last night, murmuring it against his ear to calm him. He can't hear the words now, but he can tell the melody, soft and a bit sad, he thinks the words would break his heart if he could hear them.
Natsu stays silent, unsure what to say, though doesn't seem to mind, continuing to hum for several minutes as he gains his bearings. Her fingers tap against the ground near his leg, a steady rhythm, and Natsu finds himself relaxing with ever pass of her nails against the stone beneath them.
"Storm's passed," she remarks casually after a long moment, turning towards him slowly. She doesn't say anything else, simply watches him with a careful eye, gauging him as much as he is her. Natsu supposes she has more right to be watchful, witnessing him breakdown as much as he did, he would be cautious too, so close to a Berserk about to snap. She doesn't look nervous, however, only concerned.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow, Natsu turning away from her quickly, shame bubbling beneath his skin. His mouth is dry, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth, Natsu unable to find the right words to reply. "Yeah," he settles with, wincing at the crack in the single word.
If Lucy notices, she doesn't comment, her eyes going back to the rising sun. The rays make her light brown eyes turn a fiery gold that catches his breath. "You feeling better now?" she asks him, still not looking at him. Natsu focuses on the shifting colors in her eyes. "I know it took you awhile to fall asleep again," she murmurs, softer this time. Her expression turns sad, Lucy sighing as she turns to peer up at him.
When she looks at him he can see how exhausted she really is. Her smile is bright, but it doesn't hide the bags under her eyes, only distracts from them. She looks pretty as always, but her hair is a mess, her clothes rumpled on her frame, Lucy looking smaller and less lively than he's ever seen her.
He winces. "Lucy, I'm—"
"Don't," she cuts him off sharply, expression stern when she looks at him, gaze piercing him and holding him in place. She doesn't look angry, only firm in what she has to say. Her gaze softens slightly when he stiffens. She doesn't smile, but her face loses some of its ferocity. "Don't you dare tell me you're sorry," she tells him, rubbing at her left arm absentmindedly. He follows the motion with his eyes, noting that she's been doing it a lot more recently. "Not when there's nothing to apologize for," she finishes, sending him a half-smile.
He stares at her arm for a moment longer, a strange feeling twisting at his stomach, something sick crawling into his throat. He wants to ask, but doesn't want to press her, not when he's only known her for roughly a month. If Lucy thinks it's something important, she'll tell him. He has faith in that.
His eyes snap back up to hers, Natsu slowly registering her words. A frown pulls at his lips, his eyes narrowing just a tick in confusion. He thinks he has plenty to apologize for, even if she doesn't seem to agree. "I kept you awake," he reminds her gently, reaching out to tap a finger against her thigh pointedly, noticing the weary look in her eyes.
She only laughs, shaking her head slowly. Her eyes light up with amusement, her expression cheeky. He thinks she's going to make a joke, but then her expression shifts into something more serious. "It doesn't matter," she says. Natsu can see something honest in her eyes and knows that no matter what he says she won't blame him for anything that happened last night, more concerned for him than a few hours of sleep.
"I shouldn't have dropped all of that on you," he tries to argue, more for the sake of keeping the conversation alive than any really desire to make her agree with him. He feels a bit lighter, knowing that she doesn't appear to care about his moment of weakness in the slightest, just wanting him to be happy and nothing else.
"It doesn't matter," she repeats, echoing his words from when they were watching Jorah burn into nothing. She reaches out slowly, carefully, and catches his hand in hers, grasping at his warm palm gently. "If you ever need to talk," she tells him seriously, looking him right in the eyes, gaze piercing, "I will listen." It's a promise, he knows, and Lucy doesn't seem the type to break them. "Don't ever think I won't."
His shoulders relax, Natsu giving a sharp nod in response. He grasps her fingers tightly in his, squeezing her palm tenderly, Lucy's skin smooth against his. "I know you will," he responds softly, smiling, voice barely above a whisper.
"Good," she says, grip tightening on his palm, thumb brushing against his knuckles in a constant back and forth, almost absentminded in her movements.
Natsu sighs, thinking about he own nightmares, not as violent in reaction as his, but just as mentally taxing. "I'll listen, too," he promises, leaning in to whisper in her ear, his temple pressed to hers. "I know you have them, sometimes," he tells her, wincing when he feels Lucy stiffen. He squeezes her fingers, silently telling her it's okay. "You think I don't notice, but I do."
Lucy doesn't say anything in response, only nods, so small he almost doesn't feel it.
The sun is beginning to dip in the sky by the time they begin to slow for the day, having made it several miles during their trek. He asked Lucy earlier how far she thought they'd gone, but she couldn't be sure, her best estimate being roughly twenty some miles, give or take. They were moving slower than before, despite the lack of wind pushing them back, the snow was as high as it was before, higher now. It was affecting them both, Lucy hardly able to walk at times and even Natsu having trouble, his feet more prone to stick in the snow than they were previously.
He counts his blessings that it didn't storm for another day, the snow would be up to their waists if the bad weather had continued. Surely, it would have been a funny sight to see the pair of them stumbling through the high snow, but neither of them feel safe in this country, always watching their backs for anyone that could be following them. Though, Natsu is finding that to be more difficult as time goes on. The breeze is coming towards them, leaving Natsu unable to sense anyone at their backs until it would be too late and they would already be surrounded or worse.
Natsu can only hope that somehow they would know danger is coming. There are no Fairy Trees to help them this time, no one to warn them about danger that might be coming. For the first time, the two of them are truly alone out here, both unfamiliar with the territory and relying on their senses and common knowledge. They may not have the constant fear of being followed by the King's soldiers anymore, but they aren't safe, not yet.
They've been pushing through though, doing their best to follow the mountains and finding supplies when they can. Lucy is more of an adept hunter than he expected, though he should have known better than to underestimate her. He already knew she was a good shot, he just didn't know how good.
It's only thanks to her that they haven't been going hungry, Natsu practically useless when it comes to survival skills, at least with anything that involves patience. He was never taught to shoot an arrow or skin a rabbit with only three cuts, though he's been learning, slow as it may be.
Lucy is a patient teacher, more so than he ever could have expected, always there to guide him with her own hands.
He's been doing his best too keep up, but his hands just don't have the same years of practice, his fingers not nearly as deft as hers when it comes to using a knife.
She doesn't seem to mind, merely offering encouragements and telling him old stories about how poorly she used to do mentioning sliced palms and messy cuts, mittens sewn unevenly. Lucy once mentioned he was doing better than Laxus, telling him that her cousin is practically useless when it comes to hunting, unable to properly skin an animal even after nearly near fifteen years of practicing.
He felt better after that.
Lucy stops in front of him so suddenly that he doesn't have time slow himself, slamming right into her back and nearly knocking her over, his hand lashing out to steady her before she can fall. Lucy, however, doesn't move a muscle, standing stock still. She doesn't react at all to him bumping into her, her tense against his chest.
Confused, he gives her hip a gentle squeeze, unsure what's wrong.
That's when he looks up.
Natsu gasps, eyes going wide was he takes in his surroundings, surprised he didn't smell it earlier. He takes a step back, pulling Lucy with him. She comes willingly, backing into his chest and shrinking away from what they've unintentionally walked into. A small, shaky breath slips passed her lips, so much horror in something so small. Natsu tears his gaze from the sight, eyes squeezing shut for only a moment.
They've stumbled upon bodies. A lot of them.
He lifts his arm slowly, grabbing Lucy's shoulder and forcing her around so that she's looking at him instead of the carnage. Lucy falls into his chest, an arm slipping around his back and squeezing. Natsu holds her tight against his chest, knowing she doesn't like to look at so much death.
It's a lot, even for him. Men, women, children, even animals, all slaughtered, ripped apart and spread out across the snow. Tents are destroyed, smashed to pieces and strewn across the ground carelessly. A fire burns low in the middle of the small camp, and Natsu knows these people only died within the last hour or two, no more than that.
Lucy's hand fists in his jacket for only a moment before she releases him, taking a small step back, just enough for her to turn back around. He keeps his arm around her, mostly for her sake, but for his own comfort as well. He doesn't like this, not even a little. They've been out here for over a week and haven't seen anything like this.
The pair of them stare at the destruction, the snow stained a violent red. Natsu tries not to look at the bodies—limbs ripped from their sockets, stomachs split open, insides strewn haphazardly across the ground. It's a mess, and Natsu knows that these people died slowly, most of their limbs removed while they were still awake.
He hears Lucy mumble something under her breath, but doesn't catch the words, her voice too low, rough with something unfamiliar. He remembers her reaction to Jorah and can only hope that she doesn't shut down on him again, not here when they're so close to Fiore and she's the only one that knows where to go.
She told him to follow the mountains, but he doesn't know for how long.
Natsu swears under his breath, wrapping his arm tighter around her. Lucy's hands come up to cling at his arm, holding him just as tightly. He can feel her shaking against him, though he can't be sure if she's afraid or simply angry. Her nails bite into his skin through his jacket, but Natsu hardly notices, too stunned by what they've come across.
"What could have done this?" Natsu mumbles, more to himself than anything else. Slowly, the pair edges closer, taking one shaky step at a time as they make their way closer to the center of the camp, careful not to step on anything out of respect for the dead. He keeps close to Lucy, wondering if whatever caused this is still lurking around.
His first thought is Berserks, King's soldiers come after them, but he disregards the thought, knowing he wouldn't send him men this far into Mithriel, especially after what happened in Jorah. He wouldn't risk open war over a single thief and a rogue soldier. The Centari king is many things, but he's not a fool. He's strategic, cruel, but intelligent. Almost too much so, at that.
His second thought is wolves, not knowing anything else that would rip people to pieces like this, but somehow he knows it isn't that either. They wouldn't attack such a large group—would kill everything in sight, only what they needed.
It only leaves one option.
Lucy confirms his suspicions. "Rogues," she spits, lashing out at a broken arrow on the ground with her foot. She sends up a flurry of snow, the arrow lost in the heavy, wet flakes. She meets his gaze suddenly, and there's something hatful there, unfamiliar to him on Lucy's face. He knows it's not directed towards him, but it makes his breath catch in his throat regardless. Instantly, Natsu knows he never wants her to look at him like that, like he's some kind of monster.
He sighs, breath leaving him in white puffs. They drift away, disappearing almost immediately, but Natsu pays them no mind as he glances down at an arm, severed just above the elbow, ragged bone splitting though the skin. "Not wolves," he murmurs back. It's a statement, not a question.
They should have been expecting this. Winter is always when the bandits come out. They always had the same problem back in Pergrande. Thieves on the road that would steal from caravans, slaughtering anyone in sight. It was one of the many missions the King would send them one, more for his own amusement than any desire to protect his people. He never cared for his citizens, only wanting blood to be spilled, never caring whose.
And he would send out his Berserks, send them into their rages and let them rip apart anyone he wanted them to, the collars able to control them to that degree. Natsu shudders at the thought, sure that he must have left behind scenes much like this before, must have slaughtered dozens of people under the collars control. He peels his gaze away from the bodies to stare at his companion, wondering what he would have done to Lucy if she hadn't stopped him. His throat tightens at the thought, bile churning in his stomach.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Lucy shakes her head, crouching to look at something he can't see. He steps up behind her, leg bumping against her hip so she knows he's there. She glances up at him briefly, then turns back to something in the snow, a bag he thinks. "Wolves wouldn't leave so much meat to rot," she tells him lowly, shaking her head. "They're hunters—scavengers, not savages."
Natsu considers this, knowing that she's right. "Are you sure?" he asks. If there's a chance it was just wolves than maybe they can avoid a fight, but if it's rogues...
His lips curve back over his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest, a warning for anyone that may be listening.
His chest still aches at times, but the skin is healing nicely. If a couple of bandits want to pick a fight, Natsu will be ready. He's been itching for a good fight lately, missing the thrill of it. He wasn't able to lose control in Jorah, there were too many people and he wasn't sure who was friend and who was foe at the time. But now? Now he'll know who the enemy is.
If they want a fight, he'll give them one, but only if he has to. He hasn't forgotten about Lucy. He'd rather the two of them run than pick a fight they may not be able to win. Natsu still doesn't want to kill anyone, not unless he has to. It reminds him too much of what he was made to do under the orders of a sadistic king. He has a choice now.
He doesn't think he would have any qualms killing people who would do something like this, however. Not when he knows that letting them live would allow them to do the same thing again.
Before, when he was fighting the other Berserk, he hadn't wanted to kill the man, seeing bits of himself reflecting in the other man's eyes. Natsu knew though, he knew that if he let the Berserk live he would kill Natsu and Lucy and anyone else he came across, lost to the bloodlust inside him. Natsu didn't regret it, what he did, not when he knew the Berserk had lost his humanity, choosing death and chaos over anything else.
His hands clench into tight fists, Natsu scenting the air as best he can, but the wind is still blowing towards them. He catches the scent of the rogues, but can't tell how recent it is, the scents all muddled together.
"I've only heard stories about…" Lucy trails off, speaking to herself more than to him. She shakes her head slowly, grimacing. Her hands shake as she lifts the remains of a small, cloth doll from the ground, bloodstained and ripped at the edges. Natsu turns away, feeling sick. "I never thought—"
She turns to face him, eyes going wide when she looks at something just passed his shoulder. He turns, confused, and Lucy lunges for him, knocking him to ground just as an arrow whips passed them, barely missing Natsu's eye.
AN (4/28/18): I probably won't be able to post any edited chapters over the next two weeks. Finals are coming up and I have three papers and two presentations coming up, as well as a portfolio due, two final exams, and two exam papers. Do not demand/beg for updates, I'm trying to end this semester without losing my mind.