AN: Here we are! Back with Arc Two! Hurray! Be sure to leave a review and tell me your thoughts on the chapters! I love to know what you all think! Enjoy!
Berserk
Arc Two: Chapter Nine
{those intrepid heroes; those who wade out into battle}
Lucy ducks out of the way of a strike that nearly takes her head clean off, Jellal not holding back as he swipes at her, a knife clutched in each fist. His deft fingers spin the blades, expression blank, save for the small smirk pulling at his lips. She stumbles backwards, nearly tripping, but he doesn't relent, coming after her a second time. She parries, cursing under her breath, and heaves for air, legs unsteady beneath her. Her knee slips under the pressure, but she forces herself to remain standing, unwilling to give in so easily.
She hadn't noticed before how shaky she still is, near four weeks have passed since she and Natsu left Narja, nearly two since Romeo's birthday, but she's still plagued with exhaustion. Her limbs feel heavier than usual, her thoughts scattered, and the constant headache that seemed to pulse with the poison in her arm has come back. It's manageable, nothing but a dull ache, but it's enough to leave her unfocused. She hadn't realized how absentminded she'd become in the last few months, how unfocused she's been since coming home.
Jellal takes the opportunity to sweep her legs out from underneath her. Lucy topples to the ground with a shriek, the breath knocked from her lungs as she's slammed against the ground. Wheezing, Lucy rolls away from another strike, Jellal aiming for her stomach. His foot grazes her hip as she twists, shoving herself back to her feet and putting distance between them. Lucy wets her lips, expression daring him to come again.
He blinks at her, slow and calculating, something in his expression hesitant for only a moment, questioning. Lucy's gaze doesn't waver, her grip tightening around the hilt of her knife, the worn leather smooth against her palm. Her eyes narrow, lips pulling back over her teeth, and Jellal sighs, rolling his shoulder so that it cracks. It pulls a wince from him, and in his training shirt Lucy can already see the faint bruise forming on his shoulder from where she kicked him. She guesses it had to hurt more than he was letting on.
She's always been stronger than she looked, and the boys always seem to forget that during training.
Lucy holds herself back from throwing herself at him, her bones thrumming, begging for her to charge at him and resume the fight, but she holds herself back. Jellal is nothing if not methodical, calculating and shrewd, and she knows better than to run at him blindly. she's lost to Jellal more times than she'd care to admit because of her impatience.
He watches her, hair shadowing his eyes, and presses his lips into a tight line when she draws another blade. Quick as she can, Lucy whirls on Jellal, launching a blade towards his face. He ducks out of the way, as expected, but Lucy is ready. She lunges for him when he sidesteps her blade, eyes leaving her for only a fraction of a second to follow the rush of steel whipping by his head.
Lucy tackles him around the waist, locking her calf around the back of his knee and yanking him forward. Jellal grunts as his weight is shifted suddenly, throwing him off balance. He stumbles into her, Lucy using her weight to knock him down. Jellal catches himself before he can fall, lashing out at her with an elbow, but Lucy dances away from the strike before it can hit her.
She cuffs him quickly as she backs off, striking at his nose and hiding a self-satisfied smile when she makes contact.
Jellal spits blood onto the grass, unamused as he stares back at Lucy. His eyes narrow, a faint bruise developing near his nose. No blood comes from the spot she hit him, and Lucy guesses he merely bit his tongue when she struck him, surprised by the hit. She never used to be one for using her fists, preferring her knives to split knuckles and bloody hands, but over the last few months she's begun to learn that doesn't always work.
She won't be caught unaware like that again.
Lucy swipes at Jellal with her knife, but this time he's prepared, ducking away from her strike easily and sweeping her feet out from beneath her a second time. She shifts her weight with the kick, keeping herself upright, and moves to slip around him. Jellal catches her before she can slither around him. He grabs her bad shoulder at the same time he kicks her in the stomach, and the crackling sound that comes from her arm makes her stomach twist.
She drops to the ground, hissing as she grabs at her shoulder. Relief washes over her when she feels nothing wrong, her shoulder still in place, though slightly stiffer than before. Lucy glares up at Jellal, daring him to strike at her again, but he only watches her, backing away several feet to eye her critically.
He knows better than to pick a close combat fight with her. Jellal may be stronger and keener with a blade, but she's faster. He learned that ages ago, unable to catch her on her best days, Lucy more slippery than the giant weasels that live in the forests of Fiore.
Jellal wets his lips, licking away the blood on his mouth, nose wrinkling. He spits into the grass, twirling a knife between his fingers as he glances down at her, the faintest hint of concern clouding his eyes. "Are you sure you should be doing this?" he asks softly, staring at her arm for a long moment before his eyes snap back to hers. She scoffs in response, forcing herself back to her feet, but his lips press into a tight line. "Lucy." The warning in his tone makes her pause, but he relaxes when she meets his eyes. "If you get hurt, your family will kill me." Jellal's lips curl into a frown, and his grip tightens on the knife, his jaw clenching. "And your Berserk," he grumbles.
"He has a name," Lucy snaps back, eyes narrowing dangerously. Jellal simply shrugs, unconcerned, and Lucy rolls her eyes as she holds out her knife defensively, expression shred as she stares at him. Her head cocks to the side slightly, Lucy eyeing him critically. "How long are you planning to stick around this time?" she asks, something bitter creeping into her words.
She doesn't mean to get angry with him, but he's been doing the same thing for years. He never sticks around for more time than necessary, only long enough for her to settle back into their easy friendship before he disappears on them again. She understands why it has to be like that, but she's sick of waking up one morning to find him gone without a goodbye. Jellal has always been something of a drifter, quiet and a loner more than anything, but he's practically family. He has a home with them.
Jellal purses his lips, gaze flicking towards the tree line for a moment, barely taking his eyes off her. He swallows thickly, shrugging, and Lucy sighs, already knowing he's planning on leaving again soon. "Until the festival," he tells her, brow furrowed, Jellal thinking hard about something.
Lucy does a poor job at masking her surprise. Jellal rarely stays for Magnolia's harvest festival. He doesn't like the crowds or the noise, the dancing. He was never like his mother in that regard. Lucy hardly remembers the woman, only knows that she was full of joy, practically bursting with it. Jellal has her smile, though he doesn't wear it much. "Why, you have something special planned?" Lucy asks, only half joking. Jellal is usually long gone by the time of the festival, either back to his outpost or traveling somewhere far off, only to appear again several months down the line. "Someone you need to see?"
It's a joke and they both know it, she can tell by the narrowing of his brows, a humorous glint in his eyes. Jellal has never been good at talking with women, or men for that matter. Pretty girls make him stutter and drop things. She once watched him nearly stab himself in the foot after seeing Mirajane Strauss walk by one afternoon. Mira smiled at Jellal, only a tiny little thing, and the knife in his hand slipped right from his fingers, burying itself in the dirt next to his boot.
It was both the funniest and most terrifying thing she's ever seen, even scarier than her nightmares and the monsters she's seen. There's something horrifying in the way a smile can disarm men, reduce them to shadows of themselves.
Jellal blinks at her, and then his lips begin to curve into a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. Her instructor disappears in that moment, replaced by the friend, near brother, she's known for the better part of her life. "That would be a secret," he tells her, unable to cover his grin it's so large.
He winks at her suddenly, and Lucy can't stop herself from snorting.
"You're no fun, Jellal." She sends him a teasing smile, huffing at his ridiculousness. He's gotten good at avoiding questions, especially with wry humor and jokes that may not actually be jokes. She can never tell how serious he's being. A secret for Jellal could be a joke or it could be military business, Lucy wouldn't know the difference, Jellal revealing nothing. She doesn't ask, however.
Lucy passed on an opportunity to join the Rangers some time ago, and she hasn't regretted her decision once. Jellal can say what he wants in their defense, but she knows they aren't as impartial to the political war as they claim to be. Jellal is evidence enough of that.
He wouldn't have joined them without a reason.
Lucy shakes her head, banishing the thoughts from her mind for the time being, deciding they aren't worth thinking about right now. She glances back at Jellal, wanting to continue their spar, but when she looks at where he was standing, he isn't there.
She twists to the right, throwing up her blade just in time to stop Jellal's knife from cutting across her cheek, the flat of his blade sure to bruise. Jellal always goes right, except for when he doesn't, and Lucy has trained with him enough to know when he's feigning. Her blade slips slightly with the force of him pushing down on her, but Lucy only grits her teeth and ducks out of the way, whirling to the side and sending him stumbling forward a step.
A second blade rushing towards her skull stops her from going far. She catches that one as well, but Jellal clucks his tongue, scrutinizing her. "Your technique has gotten sloppy, Lucy," he chastises, a disappointed glint in his eyes. He wets his lips, rolling his shoulders before rushing at her a second time.
Lucy sidesteps, parrying and twisting to lash out at Jellal's knee with a devastating kick which he only barely manages to avoid. "Knives didn't exactly work on Berserks," she snaps back at him, glaring. He's always been hyper critical of knife-wielders, though she doesn't know if it comes from passion for the craft or his own vanity. "Besides," she grunts, slipping under his arm and tripping him, "I didn't have a lot of time to practice while on the run."
"That's no excuse," he snaps back.
Lucy doesn't have a chance to respond before she's suddenly grabbed around the waist and thrown onto the ground, the breath slammed from her lungs as he head cracks against the dirt. She bites back a hiss, eyes squeezing shut. An aching begins in the back of her head, spreading slowly as her ears begin to ring. It takes her a moment to regain her senses, Lucy blinking up at Jellal, who stares down at her, concerned.
For a moment, she thinks about what he said. Her technique isn't sloppy, she knows, though she is a tad out of practice with her knives, relying more on archery for some weeks now. No, her skills were never an issue, even if she wasn't at her best this last fight.
Something's been off with Jellal. She hadn't noticed it at first, too concerned with returning home and dealing with her family and Natsu, but there's just something not quite right about how he's been acting. Even during the worst of their training sessions, Jellal never would have tried to hurt her arm like he did. He's never been one for playing dirty, especially with serious injuries.
Lucy wets her lips, chest heaving as she gasps for air, Jellal casting a shadow over her as he leans into the sunlight, peering down at her, something heavy in his gaze that she doesn't recognize. "You did teach me, Jellal," she grumbles back at him, hissing when she props herself up on her elbows, a dull ache traveling from her shoulder to her wrist on her left arm. "The day I best you is the day you lose both your arms," Lucy jokes, sending him a wry smile.
Jellal's lips twitch only the slightest, an amused twinkle flashing in his eyes. "Perhaps," he replies simply, grin widening. He reaches down for her hand, intent to help her back to her feet, and he misses the wicked glint in her eyes, Lucy smirk too large as her fingers curl around his wrist. Jellal inhales sharply, eyes widening as he realizes what she means to do, but he's too slow. She yanks him down sharply, Jellal grunting when he lands in the dirt beside her. Lucy throws her head back in a strained laugh, unable to place the wrongness in his expression, his smile too tight.
After a moment, Lucy smothers her laughter, a familiar soreness creeping into her core. She used to feel like this regularly, matches with Laxus and Jellal leaving her aching down to her bones. Despite the good nature of their fights, they'd never been overly delicate with each other. Lucy's seen Jellal and Laxus go at each other like beasts before, spraying blood and breaking bones. It was terrifying to watch, Jellal more shadow than man and Laxus crackling with lightning, a familiar sense of unease creeping along her spine.
Those fights were never pretty. Most days it made Lucy sick to watch them tear each other apart, less like old friends and more like monsters.
Lucy sits up slowly, stretching out her sore muscles, and eventually Jellal rights himself as well, a lazy look in his eyes as he stares out at the trees, watching the flickering shadows with interest. "It's good to have you back," he murmurs some time later, sparing her a glance as he stands, swiping his fallen knife off the ground and pulling a cloth from his belt.
He doesn't look at her as he begins to clean it.
"It's good to be back," Lucy tells him, sighing heavily as she glances down at the scars on her shoulder, raising a hand to trace them with a delicate finger. "It seems like I was gone forever." Jellal meets her gaze for a moment, but looks away quickly, puzzling her. "I'm surprised you've been allowed to stay for so long." She can't keep the hint of suspicion from her voice. Jellal rarely stays longer than a few days at a time. She's been willing to ignore it, with Romeo's birthday, but Jellal wouldn't stay for just any reason.
When he doesn't respond after several heartbeats, Lucy's eyes narrow, her fingers curling around the hilt of the rose quarts knife she's had for ages. Her finger traces along the flat of the stone knife, feeling for a rough edge where the blade was shattered, but she finds none, the blade smooth, not a ragged edge to be found. She's barely let the blade leave her sight since Natsu gave it back to her, something about the knife reassuring.
Jellal catches her eye for only a second before ripping his gaze from hers. "The corps are lenient," he murmurs, low and gruff.
It's a lie if she's ever heard one. Part of the reason Lucy rejected joining the Rangers was how strict the rules were. They were by no means as rigid as the royal army, but they still had a severe system to follow.
Lucy frowns, leaning forward and propping her elbows against her knees, lips pressed into a thin line. "I thought you said there've been skirmishes at the border recently," she says lightly, unable to keep the slight edge from her voice. She's never known the corps to simply allow their rangers to leave their posts for so long, especially in such turbulent times. Escorting them home is different from spending weeks with them.
The rag nearly slips from his fingers, but Jellal manages to catch it before it can fall to the ground. His grip grows tighter on the thin cloth, his knuckles turning white from the force. His movements grow rough as he continues to clean, jaw clenched and shoulders stiff. "I was allotted some time off," he replies, clipped.
"Rangers aren't just allowed to leave their posts, Jellal," Lucy argues. Despite never formally joining the corps, she spent some time with them last summer, tentative to throw herself into the silent army. The division she spent time with was stationed close to Magnolia at the time, and Lucy learned a great deal about the secretive bunch.
He doesn't respond for a long moment, mulling over his words and avoiding her gaze. Instead of responding, he changes the subject. "You know, the offer still stands," he grumbles, fingers twitching at his sides.
She knows what he means without having to ask, and her eyes narrow in annoyance, anger bubbling in her chest. "Jellal, I've already given you my answer," she snaps back at him, teeth grinding together as she hisses between clenched teeth, "twice." She sends him a nasty look, but his expression doesn't change. "I have no interest in joining the Corps," she reminds him.
Jellal watches as she stands, sliding the knife back into the holster at her hip. His gaze flicks between her eyes and the knife, his brows narrowed in thought. "You told me you'd think about it," he tells her.
He isn't wrong. She did say that once, back when he first asked her, before she spent the summer training with them. The second time he asked was the day she went home, leaving the Corps without a second glance and promising herself never to join them. She could never just leave her family like that. And she told Jellal as much, leaving without a goodbye.
It left them on bad terms for some time, and Jellal began coming around less and less until she finally cornered him during the winter Solstice, when he came to Magnolia to celebrate. He hadn't asked her again after that, respecting her decision, but she could always see the silent question in his eyes.
"I'm not joining," she tells him firmly, sending him a venomous look before twisting on her heel and stalking away. Jellal catches her before she can go far, fingers curling loosely around her wrist and pulling her to a stop. Lucy bristles at his touch, and Jellal releases her immediately, sighing.
He cleans his throat, wetting his lips and shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "We could use you, Lucy." She snorts in response, smile stiff and mocking as she locks eyes with him, though she softens slightly when she sees the desperation in his gaze, another warning that there's something he isn't telling her.
"I can't just leave, Jellal," Lucy spits, echoing her words from so long ago. Something in her voice breaks as she thinks about leaving again so soon "I just came home," she finishes, barely a whisper, her voice carried away with her stirring magic. She can't leave now, not when her relationship with Laxus is so fragile and she's only just begun to feel at home again. Except that isn't her only reason and they both know it. She learned too many secrets working with the Rangers.
Jellal stares at her, expression blank, and Lucy glares back, daring him to speak, but Jellal only blinks at her, slow and purposeful, proof that he's heard her. "You could give it time," he suggests, but it's weak, the words holding no life in them, almost practiced in a way that makes her wonder how long he's considered asking her this.
"And what about, Natsu?" she asks him, practically hissing the words. "I can't just leave him here. Not with how Fiore has been in recent years." While she doubts her family would turn him over to the Royal Guards, she doesn't dare leave him here without her.
Jellal sighs, but nods regardless, hearing her arguments. "I know," he says, sounding almost relieved with her answers. His shoulders sag for only a moment before tensing again.
"Then why did you ask me?" Lucy's brows narrow curiously, but she doesn't ask anything further. Jellal won't tell her anything he doesn't want to, always tight-lipped. He won't lie to her, but he's willing to worm his way around the truth if he's set on not telling her. He's done it before, when they were younger. A lie by omission, so to say. Lucy hates it, but there's not much she can do about it.
He does what she expects of him, blinks and turns away, her magic tussling his hair as he takes a step away, turning to glance at her over his shoulder, almost like an after thought. She sneers back at him, something poisonous on her tongue, but Jellal only grins at her, expression strained though not nearly as fake as it seemed earlier.
"You would have made a fine ranger, Lucy," he tells her, giving a brief nod before rolling his shoulders and taking a step away from her. He gathers his things from the ground, settling his knives back into their sheathes and slinging his bow over his shoulder, silent as a ghost. Lucy can only stare, perplexed with the brief conversation, but Jellal pauses a dozen steps from her.
Lucy crosses her arms, fingers drumming against her skin in a rhythmic pattern as she waits for him to speak. Jellal's shoulders go stiff, and even from several feet away Lucy can see the way his jaw clenches, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.
"You know my captain." It isn't a question and they both know it.
Lucy snorts, shifting her weight to her left leg, unimpressed. "Of course I know Vigali," she practically sneers back at him. "He's the one who first tried to recruit me in the first place." Truthfully, Lucy harbors no ill feelings towards the man. Vigali was originally the leader of a thieves' guild from Minstrel, being recruited as a ranger when he first came to Fiore. Rumor has it, Marrin Haskeel saw something he liked in the thief.
Vigali was always kind to her, even after she opted not to join.
But Jellal shakes his head, turning half way until he can face her more directly, still half turned towards the forest. "Vigali retired," he tells her simply, shrugging, though she can see the subtle displeasure in his eyes. "Left for Port Calter some time ago."
Lucy doesn't respond, her expression saying enough. A rush of shock trickles down her spine, like cold water over her head. Vigali was by no means a young man anymore, but he was the best Ranger she ever saw, better with a bow than most and twice as skilled with a blade. She once saw him knock Jellal on his back in less than a second during a fight, despite the Ranger Captain's old age.
The news is unexpected, Vigali seemed to love his job, and more than that he was good at it, though he wasn't half as serious as the Corps tried to make him.
"When you were gone," Jellal says suddenly, startling Lucy out f her thoughts. She blinks back at him, Jellal watching her from the corner of his eye. "He said it was time for him to settle down." Something about the way he says it makes Lucy stiffen. She'd never known Vigali to be one for settling down. He always seemed the type to fight until he couldn't possibly do so anymore.
Snorting, Lucy runs her fingers along the scar on her upper arm absentmindedly. "That's surprising," she says softly, pursing her lips. "I never thought he would leave his post." Her fingers drum against her skin, Lucy shivering as a gust of wind blows around them.
She doesn't ask who took Vigali's position. She never much cared for the rankings of the rangers, leaving them to their own devises. She would half expect the new head of the southern branch to be Jellal himself, though she doubts he would be allowed to stay here if he was.
"Dorian Crane," Jellal tells her suddenly. The familiar name makes Lucy pause, her fingers half-curled around the hilt of her knife, the demand for another round stopping short on her tongue. Her head snaps around, Jellal's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze blank as his eyes lock with hers, betraying nothing.
She wets her lips. "The son of the King's Hand."
Jellal nods. "He joined around the same time as me. The corps kept it quiet." His fingers twitch, the only movement Lucy can catch. He says nothing else, but an uneasy feeling pools in her gut at the realization. The rangers have always been off to themselves, Vigali never liked the royals, hated their politics.
"What business does a royal have joining the rangers?" Lucy muses, more to herself than anything else. She drops her knife back to her side, unsure what to do with her hands. She swallows thickly, shifting her weight from one foot to the next.
Jellal grins at her faintly, Lucy catching only the faintest shadow of a bitter smile before he turns his back to her. "You want to start a war," he tells her. "You want to prevent a war. Get in the Royal Family's good graces."
AN: Almost caught up. I'm not making edits on Arc Two unless noted at the top of the chapter. There's really not much I feel the need to change, aside from a few lines and character mentions. A completely new chapter will either be out this Saturday (June 2) or the next Saturday, as I'm restructuring the arc and trying to remember exactly what I was trying to do with it.