AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!
EDITED 5/21/18
Berserk
Chapter Twenty Eight
{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}
She's been staring at the wall for what seems like hours, simply waiting for something to happen. Her cup of cider is half empty before her, but still does wonders to chase away the cold creeping through the tavern, steam billowing from the mug and the tantalizing scent of apples curling through her lungs. Lucy inhales deeply, feeling more relaxed than she has in days. The tavern is friendly, not nearly as damp and dark as the streets they were walking the night before.
It took them some time to find the gate, and they were just in time. A guard let them pass with little persuasion, taking in their drenched forms with a small, sympathetic smile and ushering them forward, albeit nervously. He kept glancing at Natsu like the Berserk might attack, but Natsu was practically asleep on his feet, too tired to do much but let her lead him around.
They found the Iron Heart quickly, Lucy scrambling to find the small, rumbled card in her bag, the magic keeping it from her for several minutes, seemingly amused by Lucy dropping water all over the innkeeper's clean floors, the man waiting patiently for Lucy to find it. He let them in with little trouble ushering them up to an open room without a word, key dangling from his finger.
There room was small, but clean and warm and that's all they could ask for. Both were tired and wet and made quick work of changing and crawling into the bed, falling asleep quickly and without so much as a word shared between them. They didn't need to say anything, both understanding that anything they had to say could wait until morning, if it needed to be said at all.
Her fingers drum against the bar counter, Lucy perched on a stool with one leg tossed over the other, chin resting on her palm as she traces the delicate carving along the back wall of the tavern. It's a simple pattern, nothing more than thin lines and curls, gold filigree inlaid within the pattern, standing out beautifully against the dark, ebony wood. The sign hanging above the tavern door was similar, iron twisted into the shape of a roaring bear's head, the name Beartooth Tavern scrawled beneath, lettering bold and dark, standing out against the gold.
Lucy doesn't know what drew her to this place. It was nothing special when they were passing it the night before, the place just dreary as everywhere else in Narja. She thinks maybe it was the light flickering through a closed window and spilling beneath the door, the sound of laughter, the scent of magic in the air.
While Bosco thrives on the slave trade, there's also an abundance of magic spilling from the country, mostly smaller spells created by second or third generation Fae, what's left of them. Most Faeborne migrated west when the killings in Pergrande began. Countries such as Fiore, Bosco, and Minstrel some of the only places for Fae to flourish. They aren't perfect, but magic is more common this far west.
Lucy comes from a family of elemental Fae, leading all the way back to Anna several generations back. Though diluted, they still posses the innate abilities of their elders. While an air affinity is the most common, there have been several lightning users, and her great-grandmother Daryha was able to control water. However, elementals are only one sub branch, rarer than their spell casting cousins, but no less powerful.
Bosco has a large population of spell-weavers and magic-mongers, people selling enchanted objects or potions from market stalls or larger shops, should they have the money and magic for it. Lucy remembers them passing by a large shop on their way to the inn last night, and resolves to check it out with Natsu later, should they get the chance. She's sure she could find an enchanted knife or perhaps a gag potion to use on Laxus, something to turn his face purple or make a tail sprout from his back, anything to annoy him.
There's a difference between enchanted and blessed objects. Blessed ones are harder to craft, taking more energy and time to create, but they're usually stronger, lasting longer and able to be passed through generations. Enchanted objects, while more common and cheaper, have certain limitations. Some can only be used a certain amount of times or only last as long as the user breathes, rendering them useless after a time. Potions are also different, only lasting for several days, tops. Most are meant as gag gifts, but Lucy knows that there are several powerful spells placed on them.
The crushed jasmine she used on the king was previously soaked in a sleeping spell, something that would only last for an hour at most, though the results very depending on the person.
Her grandfather Makarov is one of the only spell-weavers in their family, though his business is in enchanted weapons. He rarely makes them anymore, reserving them for the occasional commission and only enchanting them rarely. His specialty, however, lays in dream tonics, erasing nightmares and giving pleasant dreams, though they've never worked on Lucy. She doesn't know if it's because of her Fae blood or because her nightmare is a memory, not a dream, but she knows that it's no fault of Makarov's. He's a skilled magic user in his own right.
Their family always comes to the underground trade in Fiore once a year, usually for an entire month, though their time spent there occasionally varies. Centered in the coastal city of Hargeon, the trade is a hub of magical and non-magical objects: weapons, crystals, armor enlaced with protection charms. Lucy herself is particularly fond of the firestones of Minstrel, warm to the touch and glowing brightly in the darkness, though at no risk of catching fire.
She's never had quite enough to buy one, but she finds them fascinating.
Romeo is always especially glad to visit the trades, being the only non-Fae in their family. Lucy knows it bothers him at times, but he harbors no ill feelings towards them, knowing that their magic, while interesting and strange also persecutes them, their blood having been spilled generations, ripped away from them violently and leading to many cruel deaths.
Faeborne make up only a small amount of the Ishgar population, roughly a tenth but perhaps less, Lucy isn't sure. Much like the Berserks, the Fae are a dying breed.
Lucy shakes the thoughts away, sighing to herself as she goes back to her mug, lifting the cooling cider to her lips as her thoughts drift back to earlier in the day, her lips quirking into a smile as she thinks about the Berserk she hasn't seen for several hours, Natsu disappearing, off to do something she doesn't know about.
She trusts him to be careful, knowing that he can handle about anything thrown his way, even if he does worry her at times. Lucy doesn't want him to be caught alone, not in this city. At least in broad daylight her fears are quelled, Lucy knowing that no one should bother him with the sun high in the sky. The thought does much to cool her nerves, Lucy humming as she takes a long drink, her head pounding gently.
Lucy woke to the sound of shuffling and the bed dipping on one side, Natsu sitting up, his back facing her. She blinked, watching him stand and shuffle over to his boots, Natsu pulling something from inside them before straightening once more. Confused, Lucy continued to stare, squinting when her head began to pound, the pulsing echoed in her arm. She bit back a pained whine, lip caught between her teethe as she swallowed it back. Unsure what was happening, Lucy sunk further into the mattress, staring at Natsu's back as he moved.
Frowning, Lucy watched him amble towards the door without a backwards glance, her lips moving before she can stop them. "You going somewhere?" she asked, leaning up on her elbows to better face him. She shoved back her wild hair, nose wrinkling as she glanced between him and the window behind her, noticing it was still dark outside, the sun not even begun to rise.
Natsu startled, whipping around to face her and shoving something into the deep pocket of his dark, loose pants. She didn't dwell on it, eyes locking with Natsu's instantly. He smiled back at her, footsteps quiet as he made his way back to her, Natsu crouching beside the bed in order to better meet her eyes. "Yeah," he murmured, reaching out to brush her hair away from her eyes, fingertips lingering against her skin. "I'll be back soon," he promised, smile widening when she leaned into his palm. "There's just something I need to do."
She stiffened, eyes widening slightly as she stared at him. Her chest went cold with nerves, the pain in her arm flaring. She sent him a disapproving look, hoping he wasn't planning to seek out the men they ran into the night before. She knew he had a vindictive streak judging by the way he reacted to the soldier in Jorah, but she didn't think he would go so far. "Natsu," she said, an edge of warning in her tone, gaze stern when she looked at him.
"Not anything like that," he told her, shaking his head, already knowing where her thoughts were straying. His eyes were honest when he leaned in slightly, pressing his palm more firmly against her cheek. "I promise," Natsu whispered, voice still gruff with sleep.
Lucy nodded, sighing softly, but smiled in understanding. She lifted her own hand, reaching out to pat his bare shoulder, fingers squeezing around his arm for a moment before dropping back to the bed with a quiet thump. "Stay out of trouble," she joked, lips twisting into a teasing, sleepy grin. Lucy yawned, stretching for a moment before blinking up at him.
He chuckled in response, hand slipping from her cheek and drifting back to his side, elbows propped on his bent knees, Natsu rocking slightly on his heels as he observed her. "I will." His own eyes took on a humorous glint, his lips twisted up in amusement, Natsu quirking a brow at her. "You gonna stay here all day?" he asked her, fingers drumming against the mattress in a slow, even pattern, almost like rain.
Lucy shook her head, brow furrowing in thought as she considered what to do. "No," she finally told him, musing to herself. "I'll probably go out for a bit, see if I can find anything we need." While not low on supplies, Lucy couldn't be sure how long things would stay that way. Their journey seemed to be one full of setbacks and Lucy wasn't willing to risk them being unprepared for something.
"Okay," he whispered back, standing slowly. Natsu reached out to ruffle her already tangled hair, Lucy swatting at him, unamused though he simply laughed in response, pulling his hand away before she could take another swipe at his fingers. He grinned down at her, shaking his head slowly before murmuring a goodbye and turning back towards the door, Lucy watching him go.
She waited until his hand was on the doorknob before calling after him, "Meet me at that tavern we passed on the way here when you're done!" She vaguely remembers seeing a sign with a bear's head, wood swinging in the breeze and merry voices spilling from behind a closed door, light flickering within.
Lucy figured a pub was as good a place to meet as anything else. They could eat something warm for a change, perhaps spend the day recuperating after so long. Their last real stop was the cave in Mithriel and that was near weeks earlier.
"I will," he called back to her, green eyes locking with hers for only a moment. "I'll see you around noon." The door shut with a click behind him and Lucy sighed before curling back up in the bed, not wanting to rise before the sun.
Sighing to herself, Lucy raises a hand to her aching temple, unsure whether her head or arm hurts worse, both feeling like they're on fire. Her arm gives angry pulses from shoulder to the tips of her fingers, and Lucy can practically feel the veins spreading beneath her skin, the black blood growing thicker. She bites her lip, eyes squeezing shut as she tries to ignore it, tears beading at the corners of her eyes.
The man behind the bad sends her a look, but Lucy waves him off, a fake smile slipping across her lips as she looks at him, mumbling something that sounds like an "I'm fine" but she can't be sure. She feels hot all over, like she's running a fever, skin clammy all of a sudden, leaving her nervous, unsure what's going on.
Someone drops into the seat beside her and Lucy brightens, expecting her Berserk around this time. She's already ordered him a drink, Natsu bound to arrive anytime now. Lucy twists on her stool, mouth open to ask what it was he needed to do so early in the morning, only to freeze when she sees who's dropped into the seat beside her, jaw closing with a harsh snap of her teeth.
She meets dark, calculating and horribly familiar eyes, the man from last night smiling at her, practically sprawled across the seat as if it's his. "Well," he drawls, eyeing her hungrily, drinking in Lucy's more prominent curves, more visible now that she isn't wearing her thick coat. "Look who we have here." He grins at her, more teeth than smile. "Names Gunner," he tells her, offering her a hand.
Lucy scoffs, eyes rolling as she turns back to the bar. Her grip tightens on her mug and she wonders how satisfying it would be to shatter the heavy glass over his head. Dismissing the thought, Lucy shakes her head, not wanting to pay for the damages it would cause. "Apparently," she muses, headache only growing in response to the new arrival, "someone doesn't know when to quit."
Raising her mug to her lips, Lucy turns away with every intention of simply ignoring the man until he goes away or Natsu arrives, in no mood for a fight. Gunner seems to have other plans, his hand lashing out and wrapping around her upper arm tightly, the man ripping Lucy around in her seat so that she's forced to face him.
"You never said no," he tells her, dark eyes going back to tracing her figure, slow and menacing. Her skin crawls as his eyes trace up her body, Gunner humming slightly, clearly impressed with whatever he's seeing, much to her disgust. His gaze suddenly snaps back up to meet hers, expression imploring, as if he's waiting for an answer.
Her eyes roll once more, Lucy taking a long drink before sending him a sour look. "I'm not interested in whatever you have to offer," she replies smoothly. Lucy purses her lips, gaze slipping down his body and settling on the space between his legs. She squints for a moment, then raises an unimpressed brow as her eyes snap up to meet his. "Which doesn't look like much," she muses, a slight hiss to her words.
The jab has its intended effect. Gunner reels back in his seat, snarling at her, and Lucy covers her smile by taking another drink, satisfied with the result. "You bitch," he snarls at her, hand shooting out to wrap around her wrist tightly, likely to drag her up against him or worse.
Lucy intercepts his grab, ripping her arm out of his grip only for her own fingers to curl around his arm, slamming his hand against the wooden bar before them. The force rattles the drinks lining the bar, glass tinkling and Lucy's own drink nearly spilling. It gains them several looks from the other patrons, but Lucy ignores them, leaning in close to Gunner to hiss in his ear, "You put your hand on me again and I'll take it." The threat is clear in her voice, her nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave little pinpricks of blood.
Again, she turns away from him, jaw clenched tightly. Her arm aches furiously, and her fingers twitch at the pain shooting up her arm. She hopes the man will just leave her alone, but he doesn't seem to be getting the message.
"You are a fiery one," he muses, reaching out to brush her hair away from her face, pausing halfway when Lucy bares her teeth at him. He seems to think better of it, dropping his hand back onto the bar.
Lucy eyes him with distaste, knowing he's not just some sleaze looking for a girl for the night. No, he's a slave trader, she can practically smell it on him with the way he's eyeing her, as if he's already put a price on her. It makes her sick. "And you're a trafficker," she responds blankly, expression neutral, but shoulders tense. She's safe so long as she's indoors. He wouldn't dare try anything here, not in the inner circle and not with so many witnesses. Besides, Lucy thinks she could take him.
He has no weapons, likely thinking she's one to simply be overpowered. If that's the case, he's sorely mistaken.
Gunner hums, leaning an elbow against the bar and staring her down. "Smart girl," he murmurs, ignorant to the look Lucy shares with the pub owner over his head, the older man raising a brow at the slave trader and Lucy calmly shaking her head. She can handle it. "I knew there was something I liked about you," Gunner tells her, sending her a winning smile.
She returns the smile, hers painfully fake. "I'm sure you did," she hisses back. Yeah, he probably liked her for how much he assumed she would sell for. Lucy fights to keep her wind under control, knowing things will be worse if he recognizes her as Faeborne.
Sweat beads against her forehead and neck, Lucy's vision growing blurry for a moment as she sways on her seat. Something's wrong, she knows, very wrong. For a moment she thinks she might have been drugged, but she knows that isn't right. The darkness under her skin pulses madly, Lucy feeling like she's just been stabbed viciously in the shoulder, as if her skin's being peeled back slowly. It's excruciating and she has to swallow down a whine, not wanting the trafficker to know something's wrong with her.
"So where's your Berserker friend?" She barely hears the question, her thoughts growing foggy, but Lucy squeezes her eyes shut tightly for a moment, and when she opens them again her vision clears.
For a moment, she considers not answering, but talking seems to be the only thing keeping her awake right now, like if she stops she might succumb to whatever's pulling at her mind, trying to drag her into a deep sleep. Her limbs feel heavy suddenly, Lucy slumping forward in her seat, though not quite doubling over. "I'm not his keeper," she spits, anger numbing the pain.
A hand slides along the length of her leg, tickling at the bare skin of her thigh, so light she almost doesn't notice. Lucy does, however, and the touch makes her freeze, her lips curving back in a snarl that she thinks she might have picked up from Natsu. "Well," Gunner practically purrs at her, squeezing her smooth skin roughly, "maybe he should be yours."
Shifting her legs, Lucy knocks his hand off her thigh, digging her nails into the back of his hand. This is his third warning at the very least. If he touches her again she will remove his hand from his body. "I have no keeper." With her pounding head, irritable arm, and boiling rage Lucy thinks she's very well on her way to exploding.
"I can change that," he breathes in her ear, leaning in so close that his short beard scratches at her skin, Lucy blanching at the feeling. His breath is hot against his neck and Lucy squirms at the unpleasant feeling, but it only seems to encourage him, Gunner thinking it's a pleased shiver coming from her.
Her head snaps around, forehead nearly cracking against his as Lucy snarls at him. "And I said no," she reminds him, raising her voice to gain the attention of several people nearby. Satisfied with the amount of people looking at them, Lucy starts to relax, calmer now that she's caught the attention of others.
Gunner snarls at her, but backs away several inches, putting some space between them. "Look, Sweetheart," he hisses at her, low and threatening. He's sure to keep his voice down this time, mindful of the eyes on his back. "I've got three of my guys in here," Gunner tells her, wetting his lips in anticipation. "You can come willingly, or I can take you anyway."
"Try it," Lucy dares him, responding with a challenging look. She hears the front door open, then slam shut loudly, the bang echoing through the room. There are several hushed whispers, the occupants of the tavern tittering nervously, but doesn't bother to look, frosty gaze locked on the man harassing her. "Your funeral," she tells him, shrugging as her lips twist up, smile sharp as a knife.
He considers this for a moment, eyes hardening and expression turner meaner than anything she's ever seen. "You know," he spits at her, eyes narrowing dangerously, "Most men don't like women who talk back." He chews his bottom lip for a moment, then his hand shoots out and curls around her thigh once more, squeezing her flesh so hard Lucy's sure to bruise from the force of it. She gasps, surprised, and he leans in until his lips are pressed to her ear. "I'm sure someone would love to beat that out of you." She feels something warm and wet slide along her skin and flinches.
Lucy takes a slow, shaky breath. "Most women don't like men who accost them in the streets and threaten them," she counters, hand slipping down to cover his. He gives her leg another squeeze and Lucy doesn't hesitate as she curls her hand around his fingers and snaps them back. She hears at least one break, Gunner reeling back with a yelp. "We can't all get what we want," Lucy tells him, smiling.
Gunner suddenly stands, not fast enough to knock his stool back, but not slow enough to seem natural. Lucy suddenly hears footsteps coming towards them and stiffens, assuming he's given his lackeys the signal to surround her. They're trying to scare her into submission, but it won't work. Lucy refuses to be antagonized like this, but not by these men.
Lucy is suddenly pulled from her chair, stumbling as she drops several inches to the ground with a yelp. She recoils from him, but Gunner slips an arm around her back, pulling her forward until she's pressed flush against him much like she was the night before.
"You shouldn't have come here alone, Little Girl," he sneers, fingers twisting around the ends of Lucy's blonde hair, Gunner tugging lightly. His other hand settles on her waist, mindful of his broken finger. His grip on her turns brutal, and Lucy knows she'll have bruises peppering her skin later in the day, already feeling them blooming beneath her skin.
The sudden shift in balance makes her head swim, Lucy wincing as her head throbs as if she's been struck. Her arm echoes the pulse, her fingers twitching violently. A low whine pulls from her throat, but Lucy ignores it, other hand slipping to the back of her shorts, Lucy silently cursing herself for leaving her knives in their room, figuring she wouldn't need them if she was just down the street.
There's a threatening growl from off to her right. "Who said she was alone?" a gruff, dangerously low voice spits at Gunner. Lucy's head snaps up, eyes locking with Natsu's. She relaxes slightly, glad she's not alone anymore, and Natsu's eyes slide down her torso, checking for injuries. He sends her an apologetic look, but she waves him off, letting him know she's fine. A bit rattled, but fine.
"You're late," she tells him, eyes narrowing as she stares at him. She's been waiting around for damn near a half-hour. She's only teasing, of course, and he seems to realize it, quirking a brow at her as he steps in closer, towering over both her and Gunner, but not reaching out to help her. He's eyeing the other man, gritting his teeth, but they both know she can take care of herself.
Natsu snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. Lucy feels Gunner's arms slip from around her, though the man doesn't leave her personal space, still hovering close enough for Lucy to feel him against her front. "Actually," Natsu corrects, mischief in his eyes, "you're just early." His gaze trails down to Lucy's hand hovering between her torso and Gunner's and she sees him give the smallest of nods, pride in his eyes.
Gunner sneers somewhere above her head, but Lucy only has eyes for Natsu, her lips twisting into a smile his sharp gaze cuts to the trafficker, expression darker than she's ever seen it. "Aww," Gunner coos, sickly-sweet and sarcastic. "Does she need someone to fight her battles for her?" he asks, reaching out slowly and curling a strand of Lucy's golden hair around his finger.
"No," Natsu tells him gently, shaking his head and sending the other a look that's all poison. "I'm just here to watch." Gunner's expression twists into one of confusion and Natsu grins, baring his teeth at the stranger hovering over her. "Look down," Natsu says to Gunner, his green eyes looking pointedly below the man's belt, Natsu dipping his chin slightly.
Confused, the man looks down, head tilting slowly as he looks between his body and Lucy's. Gunner stiffens immediately, suddenly all too aware of the thin, knife pressed dangerously close to his crotch, sharp point aimed to stab upwards at any moment. His breath catches, eyes snapping up to lock with Lucy's for a moment. She merely bats her eyelashes at him, smile dripping with venom. Swallowing thickly Gunner glances back between them, releasing her and backing away slowly when Lucy shifts her arm, muscles tense and ready to strike.
He sneers at her as he backs away. "Don't start something you can't finish," Lucy tells him gently. He spits at her feet, glaring between her and Natsu, who's slid up behind her, not touching her, but close enough for Lucy to feel the heat from his skin against her back.
Gunner doesn't look back as he stalks away.
Lucy hears Natsu laugh behind her and turns around slowly, hiding a wince when she feels pain shoot up her arm and her head, the feeling making her grit her teeth and bite back a sob. Natsu is smiling when she looks at him, his eyes bright as he looks down at her, something fond in his gaze. "You're brilliant," he tells her, reaching out slowly to rest his hands on her shoulders, skin warm against hers, "you know that?"
As soon as he touches her the pain in her arm intensifies, Lucy gasping slightly. "I think you've mentioned it once or twice," she tells him, swaying slightly on her feet as a wave of nausea floods through her. She suddenly feels like her arm is trying to pull itself apart, skin ripping itself into thin strips, fire boiling at her blood. Lucy hisses through her teeth, doubling over and clutching her arms to her chest. She suddenly feels like she can't breathe, black spots dotting her vision.
Natsu grip on her tightens, his expression twisting into one of concern when he sees her eyes grow glossy, a pained expression flickering across her face. "Lucy," he murmurs, arm wrapping around her more securely, his grip warm and tight and Lucy sinks into him. Everything is foggy, his voice far away when he murmurs her name. "Lucy? Hey, what's wrong?"
She tries to answer, tries to tell him that something is very wrong with her arm, but the words won't come out and suddenly it's like there's a fist wrapped around her neck and squeezing. Something inside her snaps, Lucy's ears ringing and her vision blurs. A choked sound leaves her and then everything goes dark.
Lucy drops.
AN: I really wish I'd had the foresight to save my ANs from the first time around, because that would have been useful, but alas here we are. I really should just saving them ON the document. I'll start doing that when I'm caught up on edits lmao. Thanks for baring with me for the last few months guys! Most of the edits were at the beginning, so from here out I'm not actually making too many changes! Hurray!