AN: Enjoy the chapter folks! Be sure to leave a review when you finish!
EDITED 5/23/18
Berserk
Chapter Thirty Two
{i'll ask of the Berserks, you tasters of blood}
Natsu watches the slow rise and fall of Lucy's chest, her breath hitching every third inhale, only to smooth once more, as if it never happened. Her expression is pinched even as she sleeps, distressed. He knows she's still in pain, perhaps less than before, but pain is pain regardless of the amount. And Lucy must have been in a lot of pain, considering how much she screamed when Magi made that first cut.
The sound echoes in his ears when it's quiet, nothing real to drown out the sounds inside his head. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget that sound, not even if he tried. Lucy had never screamed like that before, not that he can remember. And he would, remember that is. He would never be able to forget something so awful. She'd been hurting for so long because of him, and somehow she was able to sit so close to him, to smile at him like nothing was wrong.
His fingers play with hers, more of a nervous tick than anything else. Natsu's been doing it a lot lately, focusing on things like her breathing and the smallest twitches in her expression, touching her fingers to make sure she's still warm, still solid and alive. Faeborne are mostly human, they die just the same as everyone else, but all week he's had the awful feeling that if he turned away from her for a moment, she would simply disappear.
Stardust. Ashes. He thinks she might just disappear into dust and drift away, gone before he could do anything to stop her from leaving. He doesn't think he could handle that, not for a long time. Not when they almost made it to Fiore, not when it was his fault she was hurt in the first place.
Natsu's thumb traces a path across her palm, drawing Algiz across her skin and wishing he could have done more to protect her from the poison worming through her veins, killing her so slowly that neither of them noticed. She was as strong as ever and he never noticed that she was hurting as much as she must have been, not even once. The smell of decay clinging to her was so gradual, so constant that he didn't notice it any longer. It mixed with the smell of her skin, a dark spot in the midst of stardust and honey.
Lucy always smelled sweet to him, but now death is masking the smell of her, clogging his nose each time Magi lets her bleed, spilling out all of the inky sludge beneath her skin. It isn't quite blood, not in smell and certainly not in looks. It's thicker, more like slime and puss than actual blood.
Her fingers twitch against his palm and Natsu smiles, though it doesn't begin to reach his eyes. He knows it's merely a reaction to the blood returning to her arm, the last of the black blood being removed from her the night before.
Keeping her hand in his, Natsu shifts slightly, his free hand coming up to touch her arm, sliding slowly as he runs fingertips along her smooth, clammy skin, dragging his hand up until he reaches the small, silver scars on her upper arm, marks left by his teeth sinking into her skin nearly down to the bone. He winces at the thought, lips twisting into a grimace as his thumb flicks over the marks, tracing them slowly. He leaves them a moment later, slipping down an inch to the fresh mark on her arm, a neat little cut roughly midway along her upper arm. It'll scar, he thinks, but she'll live. She'll live.
He was so terrified that she was going to die that first day. She almost did. When Magi drew the cut across her arm, Lucy bled for too long, too much, too quickly. Magi barely managed to stop the bleeding into something controllable, but not before Lucy's heart stopped for several seconds. While Magi and Katya didn't notice, too focused on stopping the bleeding, Natsu could hear it perfectly, her heart stuttering before stopping, only for a moment, but long enough for him to feel absolutely sick. Her screaming cut off quickly, Lucy in too much pain to process anything that was happening. Natsu almost wished she hadn't stopped, at least that was he would know for sure that she was alive.
Blood letting. That was Magi's solution. They needed to drain the venomous magic from her system. While Lucy's own magic had been keeping it at bay, holding it back and keeping it from spreading too far, it would only be a matte of time before the darkness swallowed her whole, overriding her own magic and eating away at her from the inside out.
That first night, Lucy almost didn't make it. Her body was already weak from fighting the magic in her system, weak from travel and fighting. She was more tired than she ever let on, though he wonders if she even realized how exhausted she really was, if she could feel the strength sapping from her, so slow it almost wasn't noticeable.
She was so pale that first night, and cold. She lost too much blood, Magi nearly bleeding her dry before she finally stopped the flow. Natsu didn't sleep that night, didn't leave her side even for a moment, he hardly has all week. He simply sat there, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest and wishing there was something more he could have done.
Again, he draws the rune against her palm, her upper arm, the curve of her jaw, anywhere he can reach. For a moment he wishes he could pain them across her skin for everyone to see. Natsu wishes they could make her feel stronger, like they always have for him. More than that, he wishes they could actually do something. He wishes they could protect her from the remnants of ink staining her blood and draining her magic, eating away at her bit by bit.
To live and die by the runes.
Something bitter wells in his throat, Natsu's lips curving back over his teeth in a snarl. He can't do anything but hope and pray that he doesn't wake up to find her dead. Natsu can't fight this, can't scare it away, or keep it from hurting her; he can only watch and trust that she's stronger than whatever magic is consuming her from the inside.
He does. Natsu knows she's strong, maybe even stronger than him. He was only ever able to fight against that magic once, and that was when he first met Lucy, but she's been fighting it for weeks now, acting like nothing was wrong, smiling at him like nothing was wrong. He thinks he would have killed her if it was him fighting that magic. It would have wormed its way back into his head and he would have done whatever it wanted, to used to the compulsion to try fighting it.
Lucy though, she's a fighter, maybe not in the same way as him, but a fighter nonetheless. She's one of the strongest people he's ever met, her willpower second to none.
Natsu's fingers brush across her jaw as he leans closer to her, forearms braced on the bed. The color has been returning to her cheeks, slowly, but the change is noticeable. She looks more alive than she did a week ago, not nearly as breakable. The bags are gone from beneath her eyes, though Natsu's have only grown darker. Her breathing has become easier, not as strained, though there is a hiccup to the pattern, slight but there. He isn't worried though, not as much as he was.
She'll wake up, eventually, and he'll be right here until she does.
He should get up, stretch his legs and maybe take a walk around the city, but he can't bring himself to go too far, afraid that something might happen while he's gone. He won't risk leaving and coming back to find her like he did in the tavern the other week, so shaky on her feet and looking halfway to collapsing. He only thought she was nervous then, afraid of being surrounded, but he should have known better.
His fingers curl tighter around hers, Natsu clinging to her hand and stroking her cool skin with his thumb, holding her gently as he rubs circles against her skin. Natsu's free hand drifts to the bag at his side, something Katya was kind enough to retrieve from their room in the inn. The girl seemed to notice his reluctance to leave Lucy, though he figures it must have been rather obvious, what with the way he hasn't gone more than ten feet other than to use the small washroom at the back of Magi's shop. Katya volunteered to get their things, Natsu barely finishing the address before the girl was gone, practically running out of the shop.
Natsu's hand slips into the bag, feeling around for whatever it has to offer, not looking for anything specific. The bag has a way of knowing exactly what they need, and he figures he could use a bit of that magic at the moment, anything to take his mind of the sounds of Lucy's screams and scent of her blood clinging to his nose. He can't seem to wash that away. He could pick out the scent of her blood out of a thousand other smells and he hates it, wishes it wasn't so familiar.
Something cool slides along his fingers, metal burning against his fingers. Natsu almost yanks his hand away, snarling as he thinks it's the collar that started this mess, but pauses before letting it slip through his fingers. It's too thin to be the collar, more flexible. There's no darkness radiating from the chain, only the faint hum of magic, something light and sweet.
It tangles through his fingers and he lift it from the bag, the object weighed down by something heavy. He brushes his thumb along it, frowning in confusion, but can't make out what it is, the object smooth beneath his thumb, oval in shape and glossy.
Natsu realizes what it is a moment before he yanks his hand free from the bag, a gold chain wound around his fingers and a red gem glinting against his palm, practically flickering as if it's on fire. His breath catches as he looks at it, realizing it's been weeks since he's seen it, nearly forgetting about it entirely.
It flickers in the light, red and gold a stark reminder of Pergrande. Sucking in a shaky breath, Natsu drags his thumb along the curved face of the jewel, feeling the Fae magic hum beneath the surface. It's blessed, though he doesn't know what with. Vaguely, he wonders if it can heal, if it could help her, but he banishes the thought, sure it would have done something by now if it could.
He knows the magic calls to her as much as it does him, maybe not as violently, but he knows she can sense it, a looming presence in the back of her mind. He's always aware of it, of the collar in the bag, dark magic practically seeping from the ruby stone, looking to curl around them and take hold.
And it did. It's been taking Lucy for days, stealing into her mind and eating away at her. Even now that it's gone, Lucy still isn't awake, her energy sapped and her body left shaken from the raw power that swept through her.
He understands the feeling. The collar always hurt to put on, feeling like ice was burning through his veins and ripping him apart from the inside, his skin peeling back and revealing the muscle and bone hidden beneath. As the magic curled through his mind, it was like Natsu was losing pieces of himself.
Taking it off never felt much better.
There was a sting to it, a jolt as he regained control of his mind, then a pulsing headache that would last for hours, perhaps even days depending on how long he wore the collar. He hated it. There were times he thought dying would be better than the aching in his head, better than the short, sharp flashes of what he did while under the collar's control. Nothing solid was ever remembered, just little things that made no sense: screaming, the smell of something burning, the color blue. He never had any idea what they meant or what he did, but he knows they must have been awful things.
With Lucy all he can remember from that fight is her eyes, wide and terrified, and the taste of her blood, something he hadn't thought was real.
His fingers squeeze tighter around the chain in his hand, the gem practically pulsing in his hand as Natsu snarls, glaring down as his hand curled around Lucy's, more angry with the situation than anything else. He's terrified that Lucy won't wake up and he thinks that fear may begin to manifest as anger. He's never been one for staying idle, not unless he doesn't have a choice. Natsu can feel his bones trying to crawl from his skin, his agitation growing the longer he's kept in one place.
He's restless, but he won't leave her.
The weight of the necklace is heavy in his hand, and Natsu's fingers squeeze tightly around hers, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he stares down at her. Her breath hitches again, and Natsu sighs as he stands slowly, leaning over her slowly. His hand slips from hers, coming up to trace her jaw line instead, Natsu murmuring her name as he looks down at her. Lucy doesn't move, just takes in a slow breath. He brushes her bangs away from her eyes, concern flickering in his eyes when he sees just how pale she still is, her body unable to keep up with her blood loss over the past few days.
Sighing, Natsu leans in, pressing his lips to her forehead, eyes squeezing shut. His hands shake and he lingers for too long, but he doesn't dwell on it. She's done the same to him when he's been hurt. It may not help with the healing, but it's better than doing nothing.
He pulls away from her slowly, sighing to himself, and his thumb strokes her cheek gently. The gem in his hand burns into his palm, warm, but not unpleasantly so. Natsu glances down at it, frowning slightly, and raises it higher, looking between the gem and Lucy. A moment later, he's moving, dropping the heavy gem to rest against her throat, thin chain draped over her collarbones as he clasps it around her neck.
His fingers linger against the jewel, Natsu staring down at it, deciding he likes the look of it on her. It matches the red and gold of her shirt, filigree highlighting the color of her eyes. If Natsu didn't know better, he would have thought she was a child of fire like him. She has the spirit for it.
Lucy is more fierce than anyone he's ever met, the heart of a lion buried deep inside her, a fire in her soul. He hopes it never goes out, knowing she wouldn't be the same without that fire, only a shell of herself. She wouldn't be Lucy anymore, and that scares him more than he's willing to admit. Lucy matters to him, and he doesn't want that spark in her eyes to disappear like it was never there. He saw it go out, only for a moment at the tavern, but it was like she was nothing but a shadow of herself. Gone.
Thumb tracing the curve of the jewel resting against her chest, Natsu sighs, eyes squeezing shut briefly before he looks down at her, wishing he could see her eyes. His fingertips ghost over her skin, and he pauses, feeling her heat seeping into his flesh, heartbeat steady beneath his palm. For a moment, he keeps his hand there, feeling her heart beating below his hand, the sound comforting.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks her, not really searching for an answer, but knowing he needs to ask. He would have done something if he knew, could have prevented this, somehow, but he didn't know. Lucy doesn't answer and he's left to his thoughts, making up his own reasons. He thinks maybe she was scared, of him or something else, he can't be sure, but he thinks she must have been terrified of something.
He would be scared to.
"Compulsion magic," someone speaks up from behind him, Natsu not needing to turn to know it's Magi. He doesn't look at her, simply waits for her to explain herself. "I would assume." She hums to herself, shuffling slightly. "There was a high level charm on that collar of yours, something very dark." A low growl builds in his throat at the mention of the collar, but Magi ignores him. "It took away your free will, yeah?" the woman asks him, finally moving into his line of vision.
His lips curl into a snarl, teeth bared in disgust. Absentmindedly, his fingers clench around the necklace, burning hot against his skin, but he ignores it. "Yeah," he replies simply, a growl bubbling in his chest, nearly tearing from his throat before he swallows it back. Natsu glances up at Magi briefly, turning back to Lucy quickly.
Magi settles on the other side of the room, not sparing him a look as she continues to rile through drawers, in search of what, he doesn't know, but she seems determined to find it. "It did the same to her," she explains to him, pursing her lips as she shuffles a stack of old papers. "Though to a lesser extent," Magi tacks on, shrugging slightly.
Natsu sneers, growl ripping from his chest. The sound startles Magi, who drops an empty vial. It clatters against the table, but doesn't break. "Lesser extent," Natsu repeats, a bitter, disbelieving laugh tumbling passed his lips. He shakes his head, snarling. "It nearly killed her," he snaps back at the older woman, not angry exactly, but frustrated with Magi's indifference.
"Aye," Magi agrees gently, casting him a quick glance, eying him warily, waiting for another blow-up. "But it didn't." It's a gentle reminder, but it does nothing to calm his frazzled nerves. "By all accounts, your girl there should be dead." He flinches, baring his teeth at her in a warning, but Magi only rolls her eyes when she sees him. "Don't make that face," she snaps, chastising him, "she's breathing isn't she?"
Natsu sighs, turning away from her, eyes tired. He turns back to Lucy, gently brushing her hair from her eyes, knuckles brushing against her cheek gently. "It was my fault," he tells Magi, or maybe he's only speaking to himself. Wincing, he places a protective hand against her arm, thumbing the small scars on her arm before drifting lower to touch the stitches in her arm, tracing them with a gentle finger. He sighs to himself.
"Maybe," Magi agrees, making him flinch as if she'd physically hit him. Magi glances up at him slowly, blue eyes blinking back at him, freezing him in place. "Maybe it is your fault," she repeats, not accusing, but something he can't place. She gages his reaction, watching his face twist into something like grief. "But would she blame you?" Magi asks him gently, nodding at Lucy lying beside him.
"No," Natsu whispers back, knowing she never would. Lucy is too forgiving for that. She hasn't blamed him for a lot of things he's done, he doubts she would start not. He got them into this mess to begin with, but she's never once blamed him for anything that's happened to her, even when she had every right to.
Magi nods, pursing her lips. She quirks a brow at him, looking unimpressed. "Than you shouldn't blame you either," she replies simply, as if it's that easy to do. He'd think she should know better than to say something like that, but then wonders if she's speaking from experience.
He snorts softly, shaking his head, nearly laughing to himself at how ridiculous it sounds. "That's not how it works," he reminds her. Guilt doesn't disappear so easily. It clings to the skin, ensnaring and refusing to release. He wears his like a second-skin, letting it wrap around him, thick and heavy. It's better to accept it, than to pretend he's done nothing wrong.
"I know," Magi says softly, walking around the bed to press her hand to Natsu's shoulder. He doesn't look at her, eyes trained on Lucy's chest, watching the steady rise and fall. "But you have to try." She pats his shoulder, comforting him, and his fingers squeeze around Lucy's wrist as he draws his rune against her skin. "That anger in your heart? That hatred?" she tells him. "That'll eat you from the inside." It's a warning, he knows.
Natsu nods slowly, swallowing the lump building in his throat. "Kannibeler," he murmurs back, wetting his lips. She blinks back at him, confused. "The cannibal," he explains quietly, lacing his fingers through Lucy's. "That's our word for it." One who eats itself.
Magi leaves without another word, disappearing from the room in the time it takes him to blink, as if she was never there. He shakes his head, heaving a tired sigh as he brushes his fingers against Lucy's skin. He isn't sure when he became so comfortable touching her like this, but he can't say he minds. It's nice, to touch someone so casually and have them not shy away.
Berserks have always been physical beings, holding each other, speaking more through actions than words. He remembers being young, being held by his mouth, how her arms would wrap around him, holding him close whenever she would get the chance. His father was the same, when he was still around, always ruffling his hair and patting his head.
Igneel was the same way, always showing his affection by pulling him into brief hugs or curling an arm around his neck and he messed with Natsu's hair, making him laugh and bat his foster father's hand away.
It's the way Berserks have always been, more connected through flesh than anything else. He hasn't had much contact with others since he was brought to Pergrande. Natsu was either caged or not in control of himself, and others were too afraid to come near him, thinking he would hurt them. They weren't wrong, of course, given the chance in his early years he would have snapped necks to break out of that place. He would have done anything to run.
He didn't realize what he was doing with Lucy at first, unaware of how different their social norms were. It wasn't until they settled in Jorah that he realized how often they were touching each other, small things really, their fingers touching or his hand on her back, nothing much. She never seemed to mind, holding him as much as he does her, seeking him out at times.
Natsu thinks he likes it, the quiet intimacy they share, hardly noticeable when they aren't paying attention, but growing stronger each day. He hadn't meant to push that on her, and he would stop if she told him too, but Lucy doesn't seem to mind the way he holds her.
They've grown familiar with each other so quickly, and he thinks Magi might be right. Their kinds do seek each other out, understanding each other in a way that nothing else ever could.
He likes having that with her, more than he ever could have expected.
Natsu wonders what her family will think of him, knowing what he is and how he hurt her. Berserks aren't well liked in Fiore, and while he thinks her family may be more open and understanding than most, he doesn't think they'll react well to him. Not for the first time, he wonders if he should stay with her for that long, or if they should part ways at the Fiore border. Perhaps he could stay in Bosco, find something to do.
Deep down, he knows he doesn't want to leave her, but he will if she asks him to.
Shaking his head, Natsu lifts their tangled hands off the bed, raising them so that he press his lips to Lucy's knuckles, her skin cool against his. He stares down at her, merely holding her fingers to his mouth as he traces her with his eyes, mapping her as best he can. Thumb brushing against the back of her hand, Natsu sighs, nosing at her fingers gently, wishing she would open her eyes.
His own squeeze shut, Natsu sighing heavily. His grip tightens around her, her fingers twitching against his hand. "Why didn't you tell me, Mae Strakaz?" he repeats, softer than before. The endearment slips from him without permission, but it sounds right. He wouldn't know what else to call her. Mae Ulska is too general a term, there's no weight to it, nothing personal.
The stars though, there's no one else they would ever remind him of, only Lucy.
Eyes still shut, he pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles, breath fanning across her skin gently. Something moves, the bed creaking softly, and Natsu's eyes snap open when Lucy's grip tightens on his fingers. He doesn't look up at her, unsure if it's simply his mind playing tricks on him, but then her fingers pull from his, her hand settling on his cheek, cradling him. "I didn't like you back then."
Natsu releases a shaky breath, his limbs suddenly feeling heavy. He covers her hand on his cheek, slipping his fingers through hers easily and tangling them together. "And after?" he questions, voice cracking horribly. He looks up at her, tired, honey eyes locking with his. Exhaustion rolls from her in waves, but she manages a smile for him.
"I didn't want you to blame yourself," she croaks, wincing at the pain in her throat. Her free hand rises, skimming over the necklace at her throat gently before her fingers settle at her neck, rubbing the fading bruises gently, face twisting in fear for a moment. Her eyes meet his and he thinks she's about to cry.
Natsu surges up from the chair he's been sitting it, wetting his lips as his knees crack horribly, legs stiff from disuse. He hovers over her, pressing his knee into the mattress beside her hip, his big hands coming to rest on either side of her face, gently coaxing her to hold his gaze. "Lucy," he murmurs sadly, unsure what he can say to make her feel better.
She exhales shakily, breath fanning over his face, he's so close to her. "I tried," she tells him, tears spilling down her cheeks, "but..." He wipes them away with his thumbs, shaking his head slowly. She leans into his touch, curling closer to him, and Natsu wets his lips, continuing to brush away the tears in her eyes.
"I know," he tells her softly, slipping an arm under her back and gently helping her sit up, grip around her tightening when her own arms curl around him, fingers gripping tightly at his back, nails biting at his skin. He doesn't care about the slight pain, nuzzling against her hair as his eyes squeeze shut. She's awake. She's okay. "I know," he repeats softly in her ear, Lucy trembling against him, sobbing. "You're okay now."
Natsu presses his lips to her hair, feeling his own eyes grow wet with relief as she clings to him, ragged breaths fanning over his neck. He tucks her beneath his chin, rocking her slowly, and Lucy's fingers clutch at his back. Something warm and wet slides down his neck, and Natsu winces at the sound of her sobs, wishing he knew how to make it better.
"You're okay," he repeats, nosing at her hair, holding her tight to his chest, wishing he could slip her beneath his ribs, keep her safe.
AN: As previously stated, I should be catching up with the rewrite by around this time next week, so new chapters will be starting soon.
Glossary of Gods/Terms/Creatures:
Djehl: Fire God from the northlands that granted the Berserks their strength/inner fire. His battle axe is called Bran.
Djerda: Goddess of night and the mother of Djehl.
Estra: Sister of Djehl and Daughter of Djerda. Goddess of the Stars. pulled the stars from the sky and gave them life, proving her devotion to Ieyar, a chaos god, and creating the Fae, their magic gifted to them by Ieyar.
Ieyar: God of Chaos. Gifted the Fae their magic after Estra pulled the stars from the sky for him.
Ashtacar: Berserker word meaning "safe travels." Traditionally used between friends and family, it has since become a way to honor the dead, granting them "safe travels" on their way to the next life.
Ulfræder: Berserk word for "blood traitor." It's a relatively heavy insult. Being a "blood traitor" is an unforgivable act.
Descæter: Berserk word for "deserter." Follows the same vein of Ulfræder, but is less insulting. Blood traitors abandon their homes and families, white a deserter abandons their post/army position.
Velsigna av Branna: Berserk word for "blessed by fire." As Vesigna means "to bless." "Branna" comes from "Bran (Braun)" an old word for fire, and the name of the God Djehl's battle axe.
Velsigna av Strakaz: "Blessed by Stars" From "Estra," a Berserk Goddess of the night sky, daughter of Djerda, Goddess of night, and sister to Djehl. Term for Faeborne and a reference to their scent.
Ellyra [El-eye-rah]: Formal name of the fairy trees. Rumored to house the souls of slain Fae within their trunks. The trees are semi-sentient, and can speak, though only to those who they want to hear. The trees are tall, with pale colored bark (white, to a light grey as the trees grow old) and red leaves. The trees bleed red sap, and in the Northlands they are commonly called Azgetta meaning "the bleeding" or alternatively "the weeping."