Probably should have mentioned in the first chapter, but my Natsu will be more serious than the canon Natsu. Here, Natsu has canonically seen quite a bit from Fiore and with the situation here in the passing three years, and knowing that he, for all intents and purposes died in his old world for Igneel to pull him to Alagaësia, he learns to not take as many risks, know when to retreat, and how to be more responsible in keeping his people safe- taking charge of an army of freed peoples and being their leader is a big responsibility. so a bit of an OOC warning lol
Natsu's first year in Alagaesia saw the flame-colored dragon hatchling growing, and growing fast. In fact, it was a shock when the hatchling spoke at the two month mark.
«Natsu…» the Dragon Slayer had blinked, looking up and around. The voice was deep and resonant, as if a volcano were bubbling it's innards, but had an edge of childlike curiosity to it. "Hello?" He called out, his ears keen to locate any intruders.
«Natsu~…» the voice came again, chiding, but amused. "Alright, stop playing games and come out already!" Natsu stood, baring his teeth and lighting his fists aflame. The dragon, then the size of a horse at the shoulder strode forwards, trying to curl in front of the Dragon Slayer only for Natsu to warn them back to protect them.
«Natsu… it is… me!» The dragon pawed at the man's leg and Natsu blinked, looking into a sand-colored eye.
"Wait, you're calling me? Hold on- back up from that, that's your FIRST WORD!" the dragon raised his head, pride shining in his eyes as he rumbled happily. «Speak! I speak!»
Natsu spent the rest of the week teaching the dragon different words.
In a strange reversal of how Igneel was to him, Natsu became a something more than a father or brother to the hatchling, even more so when it became apparent of how deep their bond really went, teaching it, him, how to read human writing and even write messages in the dirt if the situation demanded it. At the three-month mark, the dragon had reached a massive size of twenty feet from nose to tail tip and a wingspan almost double the length of the body.
Soon after, squeaks and squeals became deep roars and hisses, and Natsu coached the hatchling through his first breath of fire when the six-month mark came to pass.
Their first flight at seven months had Natsu cackling and the dragon, which had chosen the name Zuvru, roaring in delight and exhilaration.
The second year passed with little fanfare, though Zuvru had become much too big to stay in their mountain paradise. So, taking a saddle that Natsu had sloppily made, the two packed meagre provisions and headed towards the East, intending to explore outside the empire before figuring out what they would do next.
The third year came and went, and rumors had started to move through Alagaësia.
As a boy and his blue dragoness meet the Varden at the burning plains, they find that word had begun to circulate of unrest rapidly approaching from the Eastern side of Alagaësia, a large group opposing the king quite boldly, seemingly having been in the shadows until now. Stories of magic unlike any those in the Broddring Empire have ever seen before, precise and specialized to specific persons. Tales of empiric outposts being raided, stone walls appearing to be melted by burning flames, pillars of iron that look like they had been planted by a giant, and the symbol of a flame-colored four-winged dragon etched in burning embers outside Empiric fortresses.
The Dragon's Roar Guild, they called themselves, though they held no love or connection to Galbatorix. It is said that the Guild is made up of those left behind, enslaved, or banished; those who go to find an in come back empty handed, as if they didn't have what it took, much to the rumored rage of the Mad King who would try to infiltrate their borders. Tales of the leader of this guild being the son of dragons and fire itself, that he could be a rider remnant who lost his dragon, and called by the Guild members, Enryūō…
Fire Dragon King.
Some rumors say he was a dragon himself given human form!
But certainly, the most outlandish of those rumors are those that say this man can breathe fire as if it was the very air, that he could consume fire, and attack with it.
Natsu laughed as his second in command re-read the rumor mill's highlights to him, the symbol he had chosen waving in the winds around the large encampment on their banners, shining in magic iron on their shields. "Jeez, they make us sound like we're pirates!" a former slave, a man named Leald, gave a helpless shrug, the shine of his own silver-grey guild mark catching the firelight from the torches. "To be fair, Master, you insist we raid Empiric caravans and outposts when we pass by them on our way…" Natsu gave a laugh. "Potato-potahto, Leald… in any case, are our supplies good to last till Surda?" Leald stood straighter, a glint in his eye that spoke of the incoming potential battle.
"Yes, as well as our fighters and Medical workers; all able-bodied men and women await your command, Master. We've had our Wizards gather the weaker in the carts just as you asked." Natsu nodded.
"Good. How long till we reach the Beors?"
Leald glanced at the skies before answering. "In two days' time, actually… will you fly ahead on Zuvru?"
Natsu gave a sharp-toothed grin, his gold eyes glowing with their inner flame. "You know it. Give em a show, maybe fight their own Dragon if they're there… It'll be fun!" Leald chuckled uneasily. "I think only you would have that specific style of 'fun' in mind, Master…" "Only style to have, in my opinion!" Natsu shot back.
Standing from his place seated on a bench outside a large tent, Natsu cast his mind out for his partner. «We're gonna head out in a bit. Eat if you need to and make sure everyone is in place, yeah?» the mind he contacted pressed against his own in a semblance of a hug. «You realize this whole thing is a bad idea? Flying in on an army on the cusp of battle is idiotic!»
«You've seen my memories of fighting the Eisenwald Guild Master, remember?»
«…May Igneel guide us, Little Prince…»
A sentry yawned in the early morning light; He was almost done with his watch and was eager to get some semblance of shut-eye before the battle that was sure to occur would hit them the next day. Blinking blearily, the man paused when he looked at the sky, then violently ripped his helmet off his head to rub furiously at his eyes, thinking he was just seeing things.
Then on the other side of the encampment a cry of shock and terror began to rise, and the warning horns began to pierce the air.
The reason… was a massive pillar of flame piercing the skies. It evaporated the cloud cover for an instant, giving the people panicking below time to see the lightening starry skies above for a split second before the smoke and clouds covered the opening again.
Then, a familiar sound made the air shudder.
Thud.
Eragon Shadeslayer had burst from his tent at the sound of the alarm, thinking Saphira was in the air, only to pause in confusion when the blue dragoness was on the ground, snarling up at the skies.
Thud.
«Eragon, Nasuada demands you meet with her, Arya, and King Orrin immediately!» Saphira's urgent tone snapped Eragon from his shocked and fearful pause and had him dressed in record time. Sprinting to Nasuada's tent, he burst through the flaps bringing relief to everyone within the Varden and the allied party of Surda.
"Eragon, Saphira. Glad you both could join us," Nasuada said grimly, looking at the disheveled Rider as he strode to the desk. "What's happened?" he asked urgently.
Arya pulled in a breath before answering.
"A missive has arrived from the… 'master' of the Dragon's Roar Guild," she began
Turning the parchment towards the Blue Rider, he saw the strange insignia. Stamped on the envelope was the symbol of an upright, four-winged dragon, and messy scrawl demanding that the Blue Rider come and meet the man in a match to determine strength.
Thud
(«Jeez… you'd think they would come and greet us! What's the point of this if they don't come out?» a snort and smoke trailed from large nostrils.
«You scared them, Little Prince- what do you expect?»
«I sent a note ahead!»
«DEMANDING A FIGHT FROM THEIR ONE AND ONLY DRAGON RIDER!»)
It could not have come at a more inopportune time- The Varden had already allowed the Urgals into their alliance just the day before- uneasy tensions were already boiling, and having another party arrive in absolutely no warning or mediation was alarming.
"How will we proceed?" Orrin gruffly asked, wine sloshing in his goblet as he shifted in his seat. Nasuada sighed, eyeing the frighteningly coarse demands of the letter pensively.
"We should meet with them, not fight with them, as soon as possible. The title of Fire King may be an untranslated title,."
The crowd of people outside suddenly began to scream, and feet thundered on the ground, making everyone inside stiffen and race outside. Saphira roared in rage as Eragon came up to her side and looked up to see what she was looking at.
THUD!
Saphira snarled, her mind blocked from Eragon's in case enemy magicians were present, but other than that, all was still.
Then, a roar shattered the air, and in the morning light, a shimmering red-orange dragon twice the size of Saphira came hurtling from the clouds, sandy tan eyes alight. The dragon circled overhead, casting its gaze about before it caught sight of Saphira. Breathing a plume of red flame, black spines and claws glinting in the morning light, the dragon made no move to attack, but observed, curious. Finally, the dragon halted its circuit, pulling up to hover several hundred meters from the ground where everyone stood tense and scared, though the dominating emotion was dismayed.
Did the king get an egg to hatch?!
"OOOOI! Hey you! Yeah, you! The pretty blue one!"
Eragon twitched, feeling Saphira's surprise at being called out so blatantly- and by the dragon's Rider?
"Is it okay if we say hi? We've been flying for a while just to meet up here!"
Without getting an answer back, the flame-colored dragon slowly lowered itself, landing with a gentle shake of the earth, and from its back slid the strangest man Eragon had ever seen.
Bright pink hair, of all colors, danced in the breeze of the foreign dragon's touch-down, caressing a large scar that curved up the man's right cheek. A white scarf with a scale pattern was tied around his neck, strangely befitting him. The man was well-tanned, as if he spent many days under the sun working. Covering his limbs and chest was a well-made, strange red leather armor layered with dragon scales, the same scales that colored the foreign dragon- they were likely from shedding and it was a very practical use, symbolic, if Eragon was being privately honest.
The man ran a tanned hand over the dragon's snout, chuckling to himself when the dragon hummed before patting under its jowl. While the left arm was covered by the leather armor armor, the right arm was exposed for all to see, and tattooed on that arm's bicep facing outwards was the same symbol that had been on the missive- a fierce four-winged dragon.
"It's you?" Eragon blurted out. The man turned to look at the younger Rider, gold eyes catching the incoming morning with a frightening amount of intensity.
"Me?" the man asked, almost playfully as he leaned against the larger dragon's neck. "Gonna have to be more specific, my guy."
Eragon flushed, but before he could respond Arya stepped forwards. "I think my colleague meant to ask if you were the one to send the message." The man blinked before grinning, showcasing sharp canines. "Oh, yeah! That was me!"
The man stepped away from his dragon and put his hands on his hips.
"Name's Natsu Dragneel. Guildmaster of the Dragon's Roar Guild, Rider to Zuvru, and Dragon Slayer." He paused before grinning wide. "We've come to join in your fight against that crazy Galvan-Yorik."
What.
Before anyone could even address the absurdity of that declaration, someone caught the worst part of the introduction.
«A self-proclaimed Murder of my race! How dare you show your face here, claiming to kill my kin when you have potentially enslaved one to your whims!» Saphira roared, darting forwards to attack in her rage and blocking the man from view with her bulk. Before Eragon could tell her to stop, a burst of fire exploded from where Natsu had been. Saphira gave a yowl of surprise and pain, her shock and the sting of fire echoing across her bond with Eragon.
The flame-colored dragon snorted, almost rolling their eyes as they shifted in place- it was strange, how the dragon had made no move to protect their Rider- but as Saphira backed away, hissing in surprise, Eragon and the rest of the Varden gave exclamations of shock and fear.
Natsu Dragneel was standing before them engulfed in flames, but not burning. His golden eyes had taken a hard edge to them, and he had raised a hand, likely to stop Saphira's attack.
"I dare yo to try that again," Natsu uttered, slowly lowering his hand and putting out his flames. "I have only ever killed two dragons, and both times, if I hadn't, hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people would have died as a result of me not killing them."
"Now can we be sure you tell the truth?" Nasuada spoke up. "What can you give to reassure us that you aren't bound by Galbatorix, or a mindless dragon killer?"
Natsu raised an eyebrow before he gasped, plunking a fist into an open palm as if getting an idea, his threatening countenance all but vanished. "You guys use Telepathy Magic, right? Just look at my memories- that's your thing, right?" gold eyes flicked over to Arya, and Eragon narrowed his eyes at the abrupt snap of attention. «He's undisciplined,» he thought in amusement to Saphira who chuffed in agreement. Arya hummed, narrowing her own eyes before approaching the new Dragon and Rider pair cautiously.
"I will be as gentle as I can," she said. Natsu smirked. "Not much you can do to me that hasn't already been done," he said cryptically.
Natsu felt the foreign touch of another mind before all of his memories were brought to bear in his mental eye. It was like watching Lacrima vision.
Arya took in the foreign world this strange man came from, the love he felt for his dragon father, the passion he held for his fire magic, his family, the battles he had won and lost. Then, his truth of origin, his victory over his brother, and the killing of a crazed black dragon hellbent on turning everything to dust and ash- including the last words and the passing of the mantle that black dragon had bestowed.
The arrivel to Alagaesia, finding the dragon egg, raising the hatchling- which was much larger than Arya thought normal, nowe that she really took in Zuvru's size- teaching it how to read and write of all things, the first words, flight, and the ensuing adventures after.
Founding the guild, gaining members made up of slaves and sellswords, the peculiar magic of the East making itself known, Natsu trying to teach the strange magic to his Guildmembers, and the promise Natsu made to Zuvru to assist in the inevitable war against Galbatorix to free the last two dragon eggs and to find any more if there were.
With a gasp, Arya pulled herself from the Dragon Slayer's mind, and to the complete shock of everyone around her, knelt before him.
"Skulblaka Könungr…" she said in awe.
Dragon King.
"Ugh, not you too…" Natsu muttered. "See, this is why I went with Fire King- I don't want to be the king of dragons…"
Arya stands, her eyes alight with new hope. "This man says the truth." There seemed to be a collective sigh as the revelation that there wasn't a new enemy to fight swept through the gathered Varden forces. "What do you hope to gain by coming to us?" Eragon asked, stepping forwards.
Natsu tilted his head and shifted on his feet, crossing his arms. "I told you- Zuvru and I want to help. Not only that, but I have a guild's worth of able-bodied men and women coming to fight alongside your people. You'll know them by the crest they fly." Natsu jerked a thumb at his tattoo- his guildmark. "They have the four-winged dragon king on their standards. Let them in and you'll have a force of ten-thousand extra on your side."
Nasuada's eyes widened. Ten thousand… that would bring a significant advantage to their ranks.
"But… I do want something in return," Natsu said with a smirk. Zuvru flicked his tan gaze towards his rider.
«We will not swear fealty to them, Little Prince. » the flame-colored dragon said firmly. «I agree with you, Zu, but how else will we get them to trust us?»
«We gathered from the far east to make a year-long trip here with our forces and family. If they cannot trust us from what even the Elfling has seen from your memories, then they are not worth having to watch our backs.»
Natsu groaned, scratching the back of his head before huffing, a small plume of flame making Eragon blink.
"Our condition is that we don't swear fealty to you." Natsu leveled golden eyes onto Nasuada before flicking them to the other high seats of the Varden. "We come from the far east, and it took a little under a year to make the trek from point A to point B. if you can't trust is, then we may as well pack up out people and fight on our own front."
"How do we know you won't backstab us, then?" Orrin barked, standing straight. Zuvru growled.
«How do the Horned Ones know you won't turn on them when the war is over?» the dragon asked, his voice firm. «I see how you look at them, despite words of an alliance rippling through your people even now. All they can do is have faith- that is what you'll have to have of us. Do that, and the Dragon's Roar will be by your side.»
The wild-spirited man before them didn't want to be collared and tamed, Eragon concluded.
Negotiations ended with Nasuada accepting the proposal, on the condition that Dragneel wouldn't be present when information-sensitive meetings would be taking place as they couldn't trust him completely without Oaths. Natsu shrugged, seeming as if he didn't care one way or the other. The pink-haired man turned, running a hand over his dragon's side before mounting.
Truth be told, Eragon was so relieved that he and Saphira weren't the only free dragon and rider left. The fact that there was an older pair who probably had more experience, maybe a teacher of their own as well, made emotion rise unlike any other in Eragon's heart… but at the same time a bubbling sense of fury rose, simmering just under the joy and relief.
Where had they been this whole time?
The flame-colored male spread his wings and reared, roaring out a pillar of red flame that was joined by Dragneel's bellowing- Fire Dragon's Roar. An slightly bigger pillar of fire expelled from the Rider atop the red-orange dragon, much to Eragon's shock, and the new pair leapt into the skies. The glittering dragon circled once, twice, thrice over the cheering, roaring forces of the Varden before angling northeast, over the Hadarac Desert.
As Eragon watched the two fly away, unblinking, Saphira's mind pressed against his own, a breath of joy and sorrow curling around his conflicting emotions.
«We are not alone, Little One.»