7 – when all i have is you
a/n: graphic violence warning
Natsu had been young, idealistic, and determined to follow his brother into the army of Fiore. At ten, he enlisted in Zeref's brigade. By fourteen, his growing list of achievements earned him the rank of First Lieutenant. Yet each victory felt hollow. He despised King Jude and his merciless orders. The battles, the sieges, the killing. It all grew worse after Queen Layla's death two years prior. He hated how the army struck down innocent people. People no different from his parents, who had died at the hands of Jude's regime years ago. It pulled at his stomach. But what could he do? He had no voice, no authority. He was just a sword.
Then came the conquest of Caelum. Natsu had been pivotal. The royal family was slain by his hand, and Jude took control of their lands. As a reward, the king offered him time off and a horse. A proud stallion outfitted in gleaming sapphire armour. Eager to escape the capital's harsh atmosphere, Natsu took his new horse far from Magnolia. Curiosity led him toward the rumoured Wastelands. A place of vast nothingness he'd heard whispers about but had never seen himself.
He took his time through the Dark Forest, exploring every nook and cranny. The place was less frightening than he assumed. There were paths buried below fallen leaves and weathering. Those paths led to a settlement. It was a small community, very few buildings in one straight line only a short distance from the forest's edge into the Wastelands.
He rode slowly through the filthy street on his decorated horse in his golden royal-crested armour. People scattered as he passed, like startled animals. They hid behind broken walls, retreated into dark houses, fright written plainly across their actions. Natsu wished they knew that he wasn't there as a royal guard, just a curious soul. But he knew it was pointless to argue. To them, he was just an enemy.
A figure emerged suddenly from the shadows, stepping directly into the path of Natsu's horse. The animal whinnied sharply, Natsu tightened his grip on the reins and stared down at the man blocking his way. "You shouldn't be here." A gruff voice warned. Natsu saw the glint of a polished steel blade at his side, a clear threat.
He assessed the man carefully. He was young, probably around his own age. His jaw was tight with distrust, expression ice cold and wary. He was dirty and clearly hungry, but his stance conveyed strength and confidence. Overconfidence, maybe. Natsu hesitated, lifting his visor.
"I'm not a royal," he assured, holding up one hand in a gesture of surrender while keeping the other steady on the reins. "Just a pawn in someone else's game."
The stranger's piercing gaze narrowed sceptically. Azure eyes searched Natsu's face for any hint of deception. A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by the huffing of Natsu's horse. After what felt like an eternity, the stranger's stance softened slightly.
"You definitely don't look like a pawn," he muttered, more to himself than to Natsu. "Name's Gray."
"Natsu." He responded, carefully extending a hand. After another pause, Gray clasped it firmly, releasing it before stepping back. He then glanced behind him, down a dark alley, as if weighing a decision. Finally, he sighed, nodding his head toward a worn-down building at the corner of the road. "Come on. You look like you need a drink."
Interest piqued, Natsu dismounted, tethering his horse to a post outside. He followed Gray toward a run-down tavern. A faded, broken sign hung loosely above the doorway. Half of it was missing, and the fading word was completely illegible, but he managed to make out some letters… Fairy.
Gray pushed open the creaking door, and Natsu stepped cautiously inside, not realising that his entire life was about to change.
Inside, people whispered quietly, huddled in shadows. Gray left for a moment, quietly chatting to several others before returning to him. "This is the rebellion against Fiore. Will you kill us?"
Natsu's hand instinctively itched for his blade. To go against King Jude, that was the highest of treason, punishable by death. It was his sworn duty to execute every one of them right here.
Only today, he was off. So, he'd hear them out. He shook his head.
Gray's mischievous eyes met his conflicted ones. "Well then, welcome to Fairy Tail."
"Fairy Tail?" Natsu echoed.
"Officially, just a merchant guild. Don't ask where the name came from, most of us don't remember."
Gray led him through the dim tavern, speaking in low tones, pointing out faces without names and doors that stayed shut. It wasn't exactly trust, but it was something. A test, maybe. Natsu saw men playing cards with unsheathed weapons within reach, fingers tapping hilts like they were waiting for a reason to draw. In the corner, one woman sharpened arrowheads while another scribbled false trade routes on a map. All of it carried out in silence. He didn't ask questions. He just watched, knowing that whatever they called it, this was far more than some merchant guild.
That day, Natsu met the members of a rising rebellion against his kingdom. Including Erza Scarlet, the legendary Knightwalker. Her quiet strength left a deep impression on him. He met her by chance, but it felt like fate.
He had heard stories about the Knightwalker, once a powerhouse of Alvarez. Hushed whispers among soldiers told of a female warrior with scarlet hair tearing through their ranks like a tornado of steel. Tales of narrow encounters with a longsword that never missed shared around campfires during long nights on the battlefield. Fiore's men still spoke her title with a mixture of awe and caution, though she had vanished years ago, captured as a prisoner of war during the bloody Second Siege of Terra Ignis.
When Gray brought him to her table in a dim corner of the tavern, Natsu immediately recognised her. She wasn't exactly what he'd imagined. She was younger than he expected, maybe only a few years older than himself. Her armour was patched and dented, worn from countless fights. Unlike the descriptions of over polished iron he had heard. Though the crimson hair spilling over her shoulders was unmistakable.
She looked up as he approached, piercing him instantly with a sharp, assessing gaze. Her eyes instantly fell to the crest on his chest. He shuffled nervously under her scrutinous stare.
"Natsu," Gray introduced, carefully gauging the redhead's reaction. "This is—"
"Erza Scarlet," Natsu finished, his voice quieter than intended.
She raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly. "You know my name."
"Every soldier in Fiore does," Natsu admitted, holding her stare. "You're the Knightwalker. You fought against our forces at Terra Ignis some years ago."
"Fought—and lost," she corrected. "I no longer go by that title. Nowadays, the people I fight for call me Titania." She was silent for a while after, as if measuring something within him. "I was taken prisoner when I was only sixteen. The things they say of me are all exaggerations. Fiore wanted to make an example of me. I was not held long, they dumped me in Waas to die only a year after my capture."
Natsu looked down. "I'm sorry."
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't apologise for your king's actions. It won't change the past."
"I'm not apologising for him," Natsu clarified, voice rougher. "I'm apologising because I fight for him. I was there at the Second Siege. I was young, it was my first time on the frontlines, but I still held the sword. Watched the destruction. The king's cruelty isn't lost on me."
Her expression softened, barely. "Then why do you wear his crest?"
The words stung deeper than he'd anticipated. He hesitated, looked away, and muttered, "What else was I supposed to do?" Then, quieter, almost like he was admitting it to himself more than to her, "I didn't know there was another option."
Erza studied him again, something new flickering in her eyes. Understanding, maybe. Or caution. Finally, she gestured for him to sit and shooed Gray away. "Then perhaps… we can show you one."
He took a seat across from her. For the first time ever, he wasn't just a soldier following orders. He was someone choosing his own path. "So this… rebellion. Why risk everything fighting a king whose armies span the continent?"
"Simple. To create peace." She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin atop her knuckles. "The rebellion was founded by a man named Makarov Dreyar. He found me in Waas. He found all of us somewhere and took us in, hiding us out here for our own safety. He once served in the palace, teaching a noble girl who shared his belief in peace. That belief got them both executed."
Natsu stayed quiet, listening to Erza recall the past. She paused, taking a slow breath, the anger still fresh despite the years.
"I spent two years in Fiore's dungeons, listening to others beg for death rather than endure another day of torture. When I was left to die, it was Makarov who pulled me back to my feet. Then I made a promise to myself, and to those I'd lost, that I wouldn't run again. I would stand and fight, even if it killed me."
Natsu swallowed hard. He recognised that fight. The need to stand when everything tried to keep you down. To claw back even the smallest scrap of control from a world that took and took. The same fight he'd buried under duty, fearful of what defying the king would bring. "But how can you fight someone who holds all the power?"
"He doesn't," Erza stated. "We can refuse to grant him that power. Fiore's king relies on fear, obedience, people believing they have no choice but to follow. We will fight not to win every battle, but to show the people that there's another way to live." Her gaze darkened. For a moment, she seemed to look right through him, seeing something else, something distant. "I was six when my city burned. My people fell, and I watched as soldiers marched through our streets over the bodies of the innocent like they were heroes. We cried out for mercy and were showed none."
Natsu hesitated, an uneasy feeling rising in his chest. "What battle was this?"
She met his gaze directly, wrath blazing in her eyes. "The Fall of Nakenaria."
Shock rippled through him. He stared at her dumbfounded for a moment. "We hail from the same city. I was born during the first fall. My father rebuilt Nakenaria only for it to collapse again on the same solstice in year 671."
Recognition widened Erza's eyes. Her voice grew gentler, tinged with an unexpected sadness. "I should have known. You look just like Igneel." Her exterior softened again.
Natsu felt his heart drop. He hadn't heard his father's name spoken aloud in years, not since he was a child. The world around him began to fade away. Emotions he'd buried long ago surged to the surface, melancholic. Before he could respond, Erza continued.
"Your mother was Evryn, wasn't she? She taught me to use a sword when I was barely old enough to lift it." A small, wistful smile touched her lips, softening the pain in her expression. "I owe her my life. She was fierce and brave, one of the greatest warriors I ever knew."
She knew his mother. Of course she did. This world was too cruel for chance. He had so many questions. It felt surreal. Impossible. Here, in a hidden tavern in the middle of nowhere, sat someone who had known his parents. She had been shaped by the same hands that created him, hands he couldn't remember.
"Did she suffer?" He finally asked. "My mother?"
Erza's expression became sorrowful again, weighed down by memory. "I do not know. I escaped with two of my childhood friends. We were never able to return. I knew she was with child at the time. I assumed she lost her life with the baby, but since you're sitting here before me, it's clear I was wrong."
"I wish I could've met her." Natsu said quietly, balling his hand into a fist and leaning back into the wooden chair.
Erza smiled, leaning forward place a warm hand on his. "Why don't we honour her together? Join us." Her determined eyes locked on his. "If you're tired of being his weapon, of watching him destroy everything around you, then fight alongside us. You have strength. But more importantly, you have a choice. Don't waste it."
As he listened, Natsu felt something shift within him, a burning resolve igniting deep inside. "I'll fight," he said, steady and sure. "Show me how."
From then, Fairy Tail became the closest thing to home.
He met Wendy, a small girl with wide, innocent eyes. Too pure for such a place. She clutched a pristine white cat called Carla, who hissed every time Natsu passed. Wendy's sincere youthfulness reminded Natsu of an innocence he'd nearly forgotten existed. He was compelled to protect that smile.
Cana was a stark contrast. She lounged too comfortably on barstools, lazily sipping from a tankard. She smelled of liquor and too much fragrance, raising her cup in greeting. She was mischievous and carefree, playfully warning him of the guild's eccentricities with a teasing wink. She seemed thoroughly unconcerned with formalities or first impressions. He liked her.
There was Levy, a spirited bookworm whose petite figure was dwarfed by the heavy texts she carried around. Her enthusiasm was almost infectious. She peppered him with questions about his travels, his past, and his knowledge. Questions Natsu answered awkwardly, though Levy's friendliness put him at ease.
She was usually accompanied by Gajeel, whose mere presence made Natsu tense. The former mercenary was always leaning against a wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes watching his every motion. His intense stare held no pretence of friendliness, only quiet assessment. Levy had assured Natsu that beneath Gajeel's hardened exterior was a deeply loyal friend, someone who was walking the path of redemption. He believed her.
And then there was Lisanna.
From the very first moment Natsu saw her, something changed inside him. She approached him with an openness that took him by surprise, her gentle smile like sunlight filtering through a storm. Lisanna radiated kindness. Her eyes, soft, caring, and impossibly warm, broke right through his walls. She carried no suspicion towards him, only genuine inquisitiveness and compassion for a stranger.
He remembered vividly the quiet melody of her voice as she introduced herself, how her laughter seemed to fill the room, easing tension he hadn't even realised was there. She had silvery-white hair that caught the sunlight, it reminded him of snowy days in the mountains of his childhood home. Her eyes shone with hidden strength. There was sincerity in her every gesture, a comforting presence against his loneliness.
For Natsu, who had known mostly hostile glances and chary interactions his entire life, Lisanna was a revelation. She quickly became his anchor, his first taste of affection, and the quiet, hopeful stirring of his very first love.
It wasn't long after that he met her siblings. Mirajane, her older sister, was strikingly beautiful. Her long, silvery-white hair and pale blue eyes matched Lisanna's, though she held a wiser, slightly more jaded air. She greeted Natsu warmly enough, but there was a guardedness to her, an undercurrent of polite suspicion. Mira was considerate but cautious, constantly watching Natsu closely, quietly assessing if he could be trusted with something as precious as her younger sister's heart.
Elfman, her elder brother, was broad-shouldered and imposing. His dark gaze was vigilant and unyielding, openly sizing Natsu up as a potential threat. When he shook the young soldier's hand, his grip was firm. Perhaps intentionally too firm, silently communicating that he'd break the boy in two if Lisanna came to harm.
Over the two weeks he stayed in the tavern, Natsu and Lisanna talked of simple things. When she asked about his horse, he shrugged dismissively. "It doesn't have a name. It's just an animal."
"All animals have a name," Lisanna pressed. "How will you call to him when you're separated in battle?"
"My horse is loyal." Natsu said stubbornly.
"All the more reason to reward him with a name," she smiled. "If you won't pick one, I will."
He shrugged again, indifferent. "Suit yourself."
"Then we'll call him Happy." She decided.
Natsu scoffed. "Happy? What a stupid name."
She tossed her hair, unbothered. "And what a stupid façade you put on to appear disinterested." She stood, reaching out to pull him up with her. "I'm happy when I'm with you, I just picked the first thing that came to mind." She pressed a kiss to his cheek before disappearing inside Fairy Tail.
Natsu returned to work with a new air of something enamoured his fellow soldiers couldn't identify and requested a nameplate for his horse.
Over the coming months, Natsu travelled back and forth between Magnolia and the Wastelands. He was always careful, always discreet. He forged friendships among these exiled souls, people who had fled or been driven from the horrors of war. Guilt that haunted him began to ease with each conversation.
He found himself learning to joke and laugh with Cana on drunken nights. The spark of rivalry broke out between him, Gray, and Gajeel—always pushing each other to be better when sparring.
He'd accompany Wendy to the forest to pick flowers, which they turned into jewellery with the guidance of Levy. Erza would watch and tell him the truths about her history of battle, debunking almost every tale he was ever told.
Even Elfman and Mirajane slowly warmed up to him, accepting his growing relationship with their youngest sister. Here, he was assured he was safe from his past. And he felt it.
He learned more about Lisanna. She and her siblings had once lived in Fiore. Her father was a soldier accused of espionage. Her parents were executed quickly after the accusations rose. No trial, no final words. Just a sentence and a rope. Then there was a crowd, she had said. They came with pitchforks and torches and drove the three children out of their home.
Lisanna didn't remember much of the time, and her older siblings weren't keen to speak of it. All Natsu knew is they fled, never to return. Whatever they had in Fiore had been taken, erased before Lisanna was old enough to understand why.
And maybe that was why she lived the way she did. Unapologetically. Fierce when she needed to be, soft when no one expected it. She never let the past weigh her down, even though it still lived in the silence between her siblings and the way she sometimes flinched at the sound of crackling fire.
Natsu thought about it more than he could admit. How someone like her, scarred and abandoned by the very kingdom she was born into still managed to laugh like it didn't bother her. How she gave so freely when the world had done nothing but take from her.
One night, as the fire crackled low and the others slept, she caught him staring.
"What is it?"
He almost lied and said it was nothing, but he hesitated, then nodded toward the fireplace. "You sit close, but you never look at it."
Her smile faltered. She didn't answer at first. "I remember the fire," she spoke quietly. "Not the journey or the war. Just that. The way our home burned, and the people chased us with lit torches."
He caught the way her arms tightened around her knees, the way her gaze stayed fixed on the dirt. "It scares you."
Lisanna shrugged. "It always will."
That stuck with him. The way she stayed near the thing that scared her the most. But he decided not to tell her about the fire in his veins. Just to be safe.
Sometimes, when Natsu was free, he wouldn't go as far as their little town. The war kept him busy, always moving. But on the nights of a full moon, he made time.
Moonlight trysts with Lisanna became his new normal. They'd meet in the Dark Forest, leaving markers in the trees of their meeting spots, little things like scarves and handkerchiefs. Small enough for only them to notice, kept in places bright but hidden.
Tender encounters grew more intimate as their trust deepened. A lingering touch, a stolen kiss, quiet conversations that stretched into the dawn. She was his escape, a small sanctuary from the harsh reality awaiting him back home. With her, he didn't have to be the Dragon Prince. He could just be Natsu, someone she chose to meet again and again under the stars.
During one of their evening rendezvous, Natsu asked why she didn't leave the Wastelands. "The mountains are safer now," he tried. "Far enough from the capital to avoid soldiers, and far enough from the border to avoid the war."
Lisanna's gaze hardened. Her voice was firmer than he'd ever heard it. She looked him dead in the eyes. "I'd rather die than go back."
Natsu didn't press. He couldn't. Something was knocked loose inside him. For a moment, he didn't recognise her. The girl who always smiled. Who gave and forgave so easily, even when the world hadn't given her much back. The one who laughed even when her hands trembled near a campfire.
Her words, too final, sank deep in his chest. Heavier than anything he could name. He never asked what exactly they'd done to her, but he didn't need to. She'd laid her heart bare, and he would carry those words for the rest of his life.
After a tense silence, Lisanna reached into the small satchel she carried, pulling out a worn, leather-bound book. She handled it with care, brushing her fingertips gently across the faded letters on its cover. Natsu watched her curiously.
"You know," Lisanna spoke softly, glancing up at him through silver lashes. "I prefer to see the world through words. I was too little to remember crossing Fiore to here, but I can envision it through this. Would you like to read it?"
He looked away, embarrassment rising in his cheeks. "I never learnt." he admitted quietly, almost defiantly. To be fair, he knew a few letters. His father tried his best to teach him but was killed too soon for anything to register. His brother was far too busy to play teacher after gaining the rank of captain. And there was no need for a soldier to know anything but the commands of his king.
Lisanna's smile faded, only for a moment. Her expression grew softer, consideration lighting her features. "Let me teach you." At his hesitant nod, she settled closer, opening the book between them. Their shoulders brushed gently, warmth passing between them. Carefully, patiently, she traced each letter with her finger, guiding him through the sounds and shapes of words.
Natsu stumbled through unfamiliar letters, frustration clear in his tone, but Lisanna's gentle encouragement soon eased his embarrassment. Each time he faltered, she softly repeated the sounds with infinite patience, her voice like a comforting melody. Natsu found himself less focused on the text and more captivated by her beautiful smile, the way her hair fell gracefully onto her shoulders, how their fingertips brushed when she turned the pages.
And as the moonlight bathed them and fireflies illuminated her and the book, Natsu felt, for the first time, that learning these written words might be something truly worth doing.
It became routine. Slipping past the city gates, making the long journey to the forest, knowing she'd be there. Falling in love was new, unfamiliar, but he didn't fight it. He let it grow. For her.
But even the quietest of routines leave traces behind.
Zeref noticed. The missed hours. The restless nights. The way his brother's eyes drifted toward the northern sky like they were searching for something beyond the walls. So, the next time Natsu snuck away, Zeref followed.
Past the drylands, at the northernmost point of Fiore's mainland, was Waas. A forest that was said to be alive and deadly, providing a strong barrier between the empire and a foreign domain called the Wastelands. No one ventured there without reason.
But there, beneath the cover of trees and moonlight, Zeref found his brother's reason.
Camouflaged by night, he slipped soundlessly through the trees. When he caught sight of Natsu, he stopped. His brother stood beneath a tree, his head bowed intimately close to a white-haired girl he'd never seen. Her face was upturned, a doting smile cast upon her lips, eyes shining with trust and affection.
Something dark stirred in Zeref at the sight—envy, perhaps. Maybe bitterness over a life he could never have. There was also curiosity. Who was this girl who had captured his little brother's heart? Why did he have to venture so far to meet her? Was he risking it all for a dalliance?
If Natsu incurred the wrath of the king, it would only fall on Zeref. His brother was his responsibility. He couldn't let this spiral.
With concern, and something harder beneath it, Zeref stepped forward, deliberately snapping a branch underfoot. Natsu spun instantly, placing himself between the girl and the noise, eyes wide when Zeref stepped from the shadows.
"Brother." Natsu whispered, guilty panic flashing over his face. The girl shifted slightly behind Natsu, wary confusion crossing her face as she looked between him and the stranger.
"You shouldn't be here," Zeref said, voice sharp and cold, suspicious eyes lingering on his brother's female companion. "If King Jude knew—"
"Please, Zeref," Natsu cut in fast, stepping forward, hands raised pleadingly. "Don't tell him. Don't tell Jude."
Zeref's expression hardened. "You'll show respect for the king's name. Are you really risking everything for some girl you hardly know?"
"She's worth it," Natsu shot back, desperate but certain. "Please. Just leave. I promise no one will ever know."
For a tense moment, Zeref stared at him, weighing the danger against his brother's stubbornness. Finally, he let out a quiet, resigned sigh. "End this quickly, Natsu. Before it ends you." He turned, silently disappearing back into the darkness. Natsu exhaled shakily, relief flooding his body as Lisanna gently touched his arm.
Only Zeref didn't leave. Instead, he lingered unseen in the shadows, persistent distrust compelling him to watch.
He followed at a distance as Natsu escorted the girl through the woods, watching as they drifted farther from Fiore's mainland. His unease grew when the trees began to part, and the barren Wastelands came into view. Natsu navigated the nothingness with too much familiarity, coming to a small settlement not too far from the forest.
Zeref kept his distance, trailing them through narrow streets. Hiding among rocks and foliage, he watched as Natsu stopped outside a dirty tavern and kissed the girl. It was a side of Natsu he had never seen. Frankly, he was unaware the boy was capable of such an emotion. But why here? The only people who resided in such a place were criminals.
Just how deep had his brother had become entangled in this dangerous domain? How far might he have to go to protect them both from the crown?
Once the girl disappeared inside, Zeref stepped out from hiding. Natsu whipped around at the sudden crunch of gravel, his expression shifting from startled to panicked again.
"Why would you follow me?" he hissed, whisper-shouting.
"Who else is in the tavern?" Zeref's expression was unreadable in the dim moonlight. He didn't wait for an answer. "Sneaking out to meet rebels? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"
"They're not rebels!" Natsu insisted, but impetuosity was laced all over him, and it wasn't a good look. "They're harmless. They're good people. They just want peace."
Zeref stared, unblinking. "You're lying," he said, calm but cutting. "Maybe not about everything, but you know damn well the Wastelands don't breed innocents. Nobody here is harmless."
Natsu averted his gaze, feeling helpless under his brother's scrutiny. His voice dropped, tone pleading. "Even if that's true… Lisanna isn't like the rest. She's innocent. They're her family, her friends. They don't deserve Fiore's cruelty." He met his Zeref's eyes. "Please, don't tell."
Heavy silence stretched between them. For a long minute, Zeref studied Natsu's face. So open, so desperate, so full of hope and the weakness of love. Something Zeref had cut out long ago.
"If this was such a secret, you'd do better to mask your steps," he murmured, softer than he felt. "You've always had too much heart. It'll get you killed." But not before it endangered everything Zeref had built. He kept his tone level, the warning wrapped in care. "Bury this, Natsu. If anyone finds out, I won't be able to protect you. Or her."
With that, he turned and melted back into the shadows, leaving Natsu beneath the vast, uncaring sky. Care tucked back behind the walls where it belonged. Now, Natsu would be burdened with the weight of a secret and the fragile hope that he'd done enough to protect the girl he loved. Hopefully, that would be enough to draw him home.
But despite the warnings of his brother, Natsu still returned to Fairy Tail. Here, in this distant land, he wasn't just a sword or a pawn. He was something more. He belonged. And he wasn't ready to give that up, not yet. Not for anything.
On one casual day when Natsu was in town, they discovered his flames. He'd been sitting in the tavern, laughing quietly at one of Gray's dry jokes when a cry rang out, desperate and afraid. Immediately, the laughter died, replaced by tense silence. In moments, chaos erupted around them.
Bandits had found their settlement, armed and ready enough to strike. They poured in from every direction, torches blazing and blades cutting through the smoke. The little community scrambled to defend, grabbing whatever weapons they could find, but they were badly outnumbered. It wasn't uncommon for attackers to find them. They were one of very few peaceful outposts in the land, and it made them a target.
Without thinking, Natsu reached for his sword. He rushed toward the threat, adrenaline surging through him as he slashed and fought, driving attackers back as best he could with the support of Gray, Erza, and Gajeel. But it wasn't enough. There were too many.
And then there was Lisanna.
She was fighting, holding her own. Her arming sword clashed with one of the raiders, but she didn't see the second man coming up behind her. Blade raised, ready to strike.
Natsu wouldn't make it in time. Something inside him snapped. A fierce, protective rage erupted inside, hotter and wilder than anything he'd ever felt. Then it ignited, the fire he'd done his best to keep hidden from his friends here.
Instinct took over. His hand shot out. Flames exploded from his fingertips in a blinding wave, engulfing half the attackers. Screams erupted, those who lived scrambled away from the searing heat.
When the fire subsided, Natsu stood breathing hard. Ash clung to the air, settling where men had stood. The flames had undoubtedly come from him. He had conjured them from nothing. His secret burned in the open now, laid bare before the people he'd come to trust.
Then, panic hit him hard. His chest tightened, breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat. Lisanna. She'd seen it. She was afraid of fire, and now, she had seen it in him.
He didn't dare meet her eyes. He braced for the fear, the step back. For her to look at him and see the same thing the world always had. Danger.
Instead, she stepped forward. Slow. Cautious. He looked at her. There was fear there, yes, but it wasn't for herself. It was for him. Beneath the unease, was something else. Relief? Maybe wonder?
Then Gray came, resting a firm hand on Natsu's shoulder. Erza stood behind, nodding once. No shock in her eyes. Only quiet pride.
But Natsu kept his distance that night. Back to the fire. Stone still. He didn't want praise. He just wanted to know that Lisanna was okay. That she didn't hate him now. She hadn't spoken to him since, but she lingered nearby, close enough to see he hadn't disappeared. And that was something.
Footsteps approached, crunching soft against the ash-streaked dirt. Natsu didn't turn. He knew who it was by the way he walked. Too casual to be a threat, too measured to be careless.
"So, I'm assuming you're the one they call the Dragon Prince."
Natsu winced. "Don't call me that."
"'Not a royal', huh?" Gray took a seat next to him, handing over a drink.
"Still no."
They sat in silence for a moment, the fire crackling low behind them. "You know," Gray said eventually, tone casual, "I thought you'd be taller."
Natsu snorted. "I thought rebels would be smarter."
Gray grinned. It wasn't forced. "Fair enough."
There was no tension in the exchange. Just dry banter, light and easy. Natsu wasn't sure what had changed again, but something did. It felt easier. Like Gray wasn't testing him anymore. He hoped that was a good thing.
After that, things changed. The people of the little community, who had once watched him fearfully just for donning the golden armour of Fiore, began to look at him differently. They'd seen his flames, and instead of fear, they found trust. He became their protector. Their ally. And in the eyes of Fairy Tail, officially one of their own.
Days passed in quiet rhythm. Small victories, hunting trips, gear repairs, quiet nights where no one spoke of the war. Natsu found himself laughing more easily, letting the fire inside him stay banked and steady. For once in his life, he was at peace.
But peace was never made to last.
It was later that week, when the sky had gone dark and most of the camp slept, that Gray approached him again. His steps were cautious, like he wasn't sure if this conversation would end in a fight.
"We're planning to march on the capital."
Natsu shook his head. "That's suicide."
"We want you to lead us." Gray continued, unwavering. His eyes were steady and earnest, revealing the seriousness of the request.
"I won't lead you to your deaths."
"You won't," Gray insisted. "We're ready. Levy's mapped every path. We've got a thousand men. We strike on the summer solstice. It's a grand holiday for them, they'll be distracted. It's our only chance to catch 'em off guard."
Natsu scoffed quietly, his eyes fixed on the fireplace glowing brightly in front of him. Memories of Fiore's rigid discipline flooded his mind. "Fiore is never off guard."
"Exactly why we need you." Gray's words cut closer. "You know their ins and outs. The defences, patrols, their weaknesses. You've trained with their soldiers, fought beside them, and you understand their tactics. Without you, we have no chance."
Natsu shook his head slightly. He didn't have an answer. The request was a lot to take in.
Gray set a hand on his shoulder, firm but reassuring. "We trust you, Natsu." The words weren't soft. They weren't meant to be. "You're the only one strong enough to give us a fighting chance. And if this goes wrong…"
He didn't finish. He didn't need to. The weight settled between them.
Natsu spent the following days in turmoil, torn between doubt and hope. The camp around him buzzed with the low hum of preparation. Sharpened weapons, whispered strategies, quiet prayers. And his mind was far from stable.
Sleep became an impossible task. Nights were spent pacing in restless circles as if the motion could quiet the war inside him. He was fire, he always had been. Untamed and destructive, and now they wanted him to lead. To hold something steady when he'd only ever known how to burn.
Did they believe this would work? Did he?
He spent days weighing the risks against the possibility of finally ending an endless war. Jude was the root cause of all this suffering. Every irreparable wound, every name carved into stone, every heartbreak that plagued the land.
If there was even the smallest chance this could end it—end him—how could Natsu turn away?
At last, one sleepless morning, he found Gray and Erza waiting just beyond the edge of camp. They stood like sentinels beneath the pale dawn, eyes watchful and filled with cautious hope. Neither of them spoke as he walked up, but he could feel the question in the air between them. He took a deep breath, steadying his resolve.
"I'll do it," Natsu said quietly, determination ringing in his voice. "I'll lead the rebellion."
Jude had to fall. And if anyone could make it happen, it had to be him.
Gray gave a slow nod, but didn't walk away. Not yet. "Y'know," he muttered, kicking at the dirt. "After all this… I was thinking about building something. A shop, maybe."
Natsu raised an eyebrow, uncertain where this was going.
"By the coast. Somewhere quiet. Someone I know… she likes the rain." Gray's voice softened just enough to catch. He cleared his throat. "Anyway. That's the plan."
Erza, leaning against a post nearby, folded her arms. "I was thinking of a garden," she offered quietly, surprising them both. "Nothing much. Just something peaceful."
Natsu huffed, almost a smile, but it didn't quite reach. "You've got it all figured out, huh?"
Gray shrugged. "It's good to have something waiting on the other side."
Erza nodded. "It keeps the fight worth it."
The morning of the march to battle came too fast. The sky was the colour of ash, the wind too still for comfort. The air felt like the edge of something. Like a breath held just before a scream.
Natsu stood at the far end of the camp, adjusting the straps of his armour in silence, eyes locked on the woods that would lead them straight into the capital. Gray passed by with a nod, but his eyes didn't linger. Like if he looked too long, the weight of it might crush him.
That's when he heard it. Boots against packed earth, quick and determined. He turned.
And then there was Lisanna.
She was dressed for war. Light leathers strapped tight, hair braided into low pigtails, her pack slung over one shoulder. There was steel in her eyes as she marched up to the group.
"Absolutely not," came Mirajane's voice, sharp and cutting as she blocked off her sister's path. "You're staying back with Wendy." She said firmly, crossing her arms.
Lisanna shook her head. "Wendy has Carla."
"The cat?" Elfman blinked, incredulous, appearing next to his elder sister.
"A very fierce cat." Lisanna smiled. "Besides, she has the rest of the townsfolk too. Cana is staying, she won't be alone. And I can fight. I want to fight."
Mirajane's mouth opened, then closed again. Her fists clenched at her sides.
"Lis," Elfman muttered, softer now. But Lisanna stood tall.
"I can fight," she repeated. "And I will."
There was a heavy pause, full of reluctant understanding. Elfman's hand lifted, hovered near her shoulder like he might pull her back. But he dropped it before it landed.
Mirajane's eyes were wet, fury swimming behind them. Not at Lisanna, but at the world that made this necessary. She whispered something under her breath, too quiet to catch, maybe a prayer, maybe a curse. Then, with trembling hands, she reached forward, gently smoothing a loose strand of Lisanna's hair behind her ear. Then, slowly, she stepped aside.
Elfman didn't speak. When he moved, it was stiff, mechanical. Like it took everything in him not to drag her back to the tavern. But he stepped aside too, shoulders tense with silent worry.
Lisanna didn't hesitate to move. Gray watched, jaw clenched as she crossed the distance to Natsu. Her steps were strong, her hands still at her sides until she stood right before him. She was too young. So was he. But this was the war Natsu was leading. The war he was asked to lead.
"I'm coming," she said. He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off with a hard look. "I'm not afraid of you, Natsu. Not your fire, not your past, and not what you're capable of."
He stayed silent. He just looked at her, chest rising with a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"I want to fight beside you," she said. "And I love you."
Everything stopped.
There was a strangled cough from behind. Gray. Erza turned her head and pretended to find the trees fascinating. Mirajane's arms folded tighter, trying and failing to mask the look of stunned betrayal on her face, and Elfman dropped the small sack of supplies he'd been holding. Levy's jaw dropped, and Gajeel rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.
Natsu blinked. Heat climbed into his neck like wildfire. "I—uh, I… I love you too." It came out rougher than intended, cracked and unsure. But it was honest. His voice didn't carry, but Lisanna heard every word. And she smiled. Not the teasing grin he'd seen a hundred times before, but something realer.
He'd never said those words before. Not like that. And as they turned to face the forest ahead, his hand found hers. Awkward at first, clumsy in its sincerity, but steady all the same.
Today, they would march into fire. But they would do it together.
Natsu had known it would be difficult, but nothing could have prepared him for the outcome.
Wearing his father's old crimson armour—faded yet unmistakable to the eyes of any Alvaran—he stood at the head of the rebellion, leading a thousand souls from the Wastelands toward the capital city of Magnolia. They were desperate, worn-down people who had long suffered under Fiore's oppressive regime. Merchants, former soldiers, exiles, and commoners had rallied to his call, driven by the hope of reclaiming their freedom.
After a weeklong march, the capital came into view on the morning of the summer solstice. Natsu's fifteenth birthday. Magnolia's gates loomed ahead, dark and imposing. And the moment the outer barricades fell, chaos erupted. Steel met steel beneath towering walls. The battle raged relentlessly, day and night blending into a blur of blood, smoke, and exhaustion.
The rebellion blocked the exits. They couldn't allow the king's men to call for help. Many of Fiore's strongest had left for the holiday. Only an army of ten thousand remained, still vastly outnumbering Natsu's one thousand. Still, they cut the numbers down.
Nine, then eight. Slowly but surely, the playing field was being evened. Every inch gained cost them dearly, but the impossible was beginning to take shape.
Natsu fought without using his flames. He couldn't afford to be found out, not yet. He relied instead on pure skill, his sword cutting through enemies with practised precision. Every clash of blades echoed painfully in his chest, each life taken weighing heavier on him than the last. He had to tell himself it was necessary. For freedom.
After nearly a week of straight fighting, the tide slowly began to turn. Fiore's army was faltering, exhausted from the endless battle. Too many nights without sleep. Too few medics left standing. Their formations cracked under pressure, and hope stirred among the desperate usurpers. Victory was within their grasp. An army of a thousand versus ten thousand winning. It was unfathomable.
Natsu and Gray fought back-to-back, blades flashing, blood coating their arms. They moved like they'd trained together for years, in perfect sync, each covering the other's blind spots, breathing hard but still standing.
Gray let out a breathless laugh between strikes. "I can't believe this is actually working."
"Don't say that," Natsu snapped, knocking an enemy to the ground. "You'll jinx it."
Gray grinned grimly. "Too late. If this goes wrong, it's on me."
Natsu didn't reply. He didn't have to. The words hovered between them like a loaded cannon. And just like that, the moment died.
A scream cut through the chaos. Lisanna's voice, desperate and fearful. Natsu spun around, heart seizing at the sight. She fought hard, her blade flashing in defiance, holding her ground against two soldiers, but more closed in fast. A squad, circling, cutting off every path of retreat. One slashed at her flank, forcing her back, her stance faltering.
Without thinking, he reached out. Again. Flames erupted, engulfing the attackers in a rush of searing heat. The fire spread too quickly, blazing through anyone in the crossfire, turning them all to ash.
When the flames died down, Lisanna stood still, sword lowered, gripping the hilt so tightly her hand ached. For once, she was truly scared. Scared for him. Scared of what this would mean. She backed up slowly.
The damage was done. Fiore's soldiers froze in shock, temporarily stunned by what they'd just witnessed. Recognition spread quickly through the ranks.
"Natsu Dragneel!" someone shouted in disbelief.
"Traitor!"
"Kill him!"
The rage that followed was immediate, rapidly changing with bloodthirst born of betrayal. Their formation tightened with renewed purpose, and the tide turned in a heartbeat. The rebellion's momentum collapsed in an instant. Where hope had lived only moments before, panic took root. Natsu watched in horror as his exhausted allies began to fall, outnumbered, outmatched, and caught in the storm his flames had unleashed.
Dread surged through him. He turned, scanning the battlefield, desperately searching for a solution, a command, something to stop the collapse. That's when he heard Erza's voice, rising above the turmoil. A fierce, defiant battle cry that drew everyone's attention rang out. She stood firm, sword flashing, surrounded by enemies. Her red hair shone brilliantly in the firelight. Her armour was cracked and bloodied, but she refused to yield.
Natsu started in her direction, ready to help, when suddenly, he saw a figure emerge from the smoke. Silent. Familiar. Zeref.
Before Natsu could shout, his brother's blade split through the final sliver of Erza's defence, shattering what remained of her armour and driving through her chest, swift and brutal.
Time slowed.
Erza staggered, her sword slipping from trembling fingers. She sank to her knees, wide eyes locking with Natsu's for one final haunting moment. She collapsed lifelessly into the dirt.
A loud cry tore from Natsu's throat, shaking the very air around him. His legs nearly gave out beneath him, but he forced himself upright just in time to see Gajeel charging at Zeref to avenge his comrade. In a single merciless strike, Gajeel was cut down. His body crumpled to the earth while his head rolled across the battlefield. Natsu's stomach twisted violently, bile rising in his throat.
It was over. They couldn't win. He couldn't let anyone else die for his mistakes.
"Retreat!" Natsu roared, voice hoarse with anguish. "Fall back!"
Those who survived scattered, fleeing desperately back through the drylands. Natsu stayed behind, covering their escape until the very last moment, guilt crushing his heart with every step he took. Every swing of his sword felt heavier. Every scream behind him, louder. He stumbled through the wreckage, desperately searching for survivors. Vision blurred, smoke and blood clouding his senses.
Then he saw Levy, kneeling on the bloodied earth, trembling hands gripping the sword she'd never intended to wield. Dirt and tears streaked her face, but her expression was vacant, as though she were no longer truly there. Her wide, unseeing eyes stared down at the fallen body before her.
Gajeel.
The mercenary she'd loved lay motionless, his headless form a brutal reminder of the cruelty of war. A choked sob escaped Levy's throat, barely audible over the clash of weapons around them.
"Levy!" Natsu shouted, panic rising in his chest as he pushed toward her. "Levy, we have to move!"
She didn't respond. She didn't even look up. Instead, with a shaking breath, she lifted Gajeel's discarded broadsword, a blade almost bigger than her. She pressed it to her chest. Natsu's blood ran cold as he realised her intent.
"No… Levy, stop!" he screamed, racing forward desperately. "Don't—" Too late.
Their eyes met one last time, hers hollow with grief. Then she plunged the blade through her heart.
Natsu froze mid-step, horrified, watching helplessly as she slumped to the ground, blood pooling around her tiny frame. A scream rang out, and he might've felt himself vomit, but it was all lost beneath the roar of battle.
Levy lay still, peaceful now, reunited with the man she loved.
Natsu turned away. He didn't cry, he just stood there. Empty. If there was truly a god left in this world, it would strike him down in that moment. Let him join them. Let it end here. Penitence carved itself deeper into his soul. Another life he led to an end. Another loss he'd carry forever. He fled with the rest, forever to be haunted by failure.
In the days that followed, he remained in the Wastelands. There wasn't much of an alternative. He was wanted by the entire kingdom. Erza, Gajeel and Levy's deaths weighed on his soul along with the other lives lost under his command. He found refuge in the tavern among the remnants of Fairy Tail. Every day they waited anxiously for Fiore's retaliation, preparing for an attack that never came. Perhaps they didn't know the rebels' origins, or perhaps the king didn't dare enter such hostile territory.
The tavern was dim and quiet when Gray entered, having been away for a few days watching the woods for signs. He carefully closed the door behind him. He paused at the doorway, hesitant, noticing Natsu seated at a far table, head down, emotional state unreadable.
"Natsu," Gray began softly, moving slowly. "We should talk."
Natsu didn't look up, but his voice shook when he answered. "I think we've said enough, Gray."
Gray sighed heavily, taking a seat across from him. "Listen, I know you didn't want to lead—"
"Then why did you ask me at all?" Natsu interrupted sharply, lifting his head to glare at his friend. Hurt and frustration simmered clearly in his eyes. "I told you how it'd end. You said we had a chance. Now look at us."
Gray stilled, guilt etched in his face. His mouth opened, then closed. Finally, he said, "I wanted to believe in you so badly, I didn't listen. I was wrong. I thought—I hoped that your strength would carry us through. I shouldn't have put that responsibility on you alone."
"Responsibility?" Natsu scoffed bitterly. "Erza's gone, Levy, Gajeel… I can't forgive myself for that." He should've died with them. Would've made more sense than breathing through the weight of all their ghosts.
Gray flinched, eyes darkening with remorse. "I'm not asking you to forgive yourself. I'm not even asking you to forgive me. But blaming yourself won't bring them back." Gray went quiet, shoulders slumping as he stared down at the table. "Believe me, Natsu, no one blames you more than I blame myself."
A tense silence settled between them. Eventually, Natsu sighed, his anger fading into exhausted sorrow. "It's too late now," he muttered. "We both have to live with what happened."
Gray nodded slowly, meeting his friend's gaze before standing. "I know. And I'm sorry, Natsu. Truly."
Natsu didn't answer, simply staring at the tabletop as Gray left, wondering if either of them would ever forgive themselves for what had happened.
It wasn't long until Lisanna joined him, her expression just as clouded by grief and regret. She approached quietly, careful not to startle him as she took the seat beside him. For a long moment, neither spoke. She simply sat close and leaned on his shoulder, offering silent comfort through her presence alone. She reached out, gently placing her hand over his.
"It wasn't your fault, Natsu," she said, breaking the silence.
He shook his head. "I led them into battle. I was supposed to protect them. Now half of us are dead and the rest are broken."
"You did your best," she assured, tightening her fingers around his hand. "They knew the risks. We all did."
Natsu looked at her in dismay. "Gray talked me into leading. I didn't want this. I never wanted anyone to rely on me."
Lisanna offered him a sad, gentle smile. "You don't always get to choose how others see you. People believe in you because of who you are, not because Gray asked them to."
He shook his head again, struggling to accept her words. "I let everyone down."
"No," she said firmly, turning to face him fully. "You gave us hope when we needed it most. We all still trust you, and this isn't your burden alone. You are an amazing leader."
His tension slightly eased as he finally allowed himself to lean into her comforting embrace. Lisanna wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as he buried his face into her shoulder. "I don't know how to forgive myself." He whispered. He didn't want forgiveness. He wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again.
Lisanna soothingly ran her fingers through his hair. "Mirajane still looks for Erza," she murmured. "I pretend I don't notice. But I do."
Natsu flinched, just barely, but Lisanna felt it.
"One day at a time," she whispered. "We heal slowly. Together."
For a long while, they remained there, holding each other tightly, letting the quiet ease the wounds neither of them could heal alone.
More days went by, and the anxious silence of the tavern was becoming unbearable. The weight of failure pressed against Natsu's chest with every breath. Driven by apprehension and unabating guilt, he decided to venture out, alone, toward the edges of the Wastelands. If Jude decided to pursue them after all, they'd need a contingency. An escape route. Somewhere to run if the war wasn't done with them yet.
It was supposed to be a short journey, just a week away, a week back.
But Natsu was young, stupid. He should've known better. Nothing ever went as planned. Everything always ended in tragedy. It was like a curse, maybe the same one that gave him the power to burn.
Two weeks later, he returned.
He knew something was wrong even before he reached the outskirts. Smoke drifted over the horizon, thick and black, choking out the sunlight and suffocating the sky. Fear gripped his chest as he urged Happy forward, heart hammering against his ribs. When he arrived, his worst fears became reality.
The town was gone.
Natsu slowly rode through the bloodied streets, heart growing numb with every step. Buildings collapsed in on themselves, scorched and crumbling. Bodies lay scattered, twisted in agony, frozen in their final moments. Men, women, even children. No one had been spared. His stomach lurched violently, nausea surging in waves, but he forced himself to continue. He had to see it. He had to face it.
Then he saw it. The tavern. The only place he could ever truly call home. Now, it was nothing. Burned to its foundation. Only skeletal beams and scorched stone remained, blackened and still smoking.
He dismounted from Happy slowly, legs weak, barely supporting his weight as he stepped onto dead earth. Ashes stirred beneath his boots, mingling with dried blood. He moved numbly through the wreckage, recognising pieces of his life—scattered, broken, defiled.
He found Gray first. Or what was left of him. His shirtless body had been burned and impaled, barely recognisable in the ruins. Mira's long white hair spilt out from beneath a fallen beam, now matted and stained crimson. He kept walking.
Cana's colourful, intricately patterned skirt lay shredded, strewn across the floor. Her topwear hung from the remains of the ceiling like a grotesque trophy. Elfman's muscular arms had been pinned to the wall with arrows, his torso discarded beneath.
His heart cracked when he caught a glimpse of Wendy's tiny form, charred beyond recognition, curled around the remains of her small white cat.
For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Unregistered grief collapsed in his chest. His mind screamed at him to look away, but his body moved on its own. Unfeeling, detached, broken.
And then there was Lisanna.
No. That wasn't her. It couldn't be. Her head was stuck on a pike. Her eyes were still wide open in terror, mouth forever frozen in a final, silent scream. Her body had been carelessly discarded nearby. He hadn't even told her goodbye. His knees gave out, unable to bear the weight of the horror.
He dropped into the ash, staring through tears that blurred everything. Natsu didn't remember the last time he cried. That day, he wailed. His screams echoed throughout the barren land, unheard and unanswered. No life remained here. Everyone was long gone, dead or captured. He had to get out.
Outside, a single sign had been hammered into the scorched earth. The Royal Crest of Fiore stamped into the wood beside one clear notice.
CRIME: TREASON.
He knew those words. His stomach turned again. He stumbled to the side and vomited, heaving until nothing remained. Fiore had slaughtered them, displayed them as a warning to anyone who would pass. Public execution in the most gruesome manner. It was brutal. Cruel. Unnecessary.
Natsu staggered back to Happy, desperately climbing back onto the horse. The smell of burned flesh was everywhere. In his clothes. His hair. His lungs. It was unbearable. He urged the animal forward, galloping blindly away from the Wastelands, away from the bodies, away from the memories. They raced through Waas, his vision blurred by tears.
He didn't see the log until it was too late. Happy tripped, throwing Natsu violently to the ground. He landed hard, skidding across dirt and twigs, pain jolting through every nerve. He lay still, refusing to rise. It hurt too much.
Happy approached, nudging him gently with his nose, worriedly snorting until Natsu rolled onto his back. He didn't get up. He didn't want to get up. He stared at his hands, still covered in soot and blood, wondering why they were still warm.
His grief broke loose again, wrenching sobs seizing his entire body. He felt another scream escape his throat, endlessly pouring everything he had into the dark. Birds flew from the trees, animals scatted from the bushes, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
Everything he'd loved was gone.
It hurt.
Natsu returned to Fiore a shell of the boy he'd once been. As he passed through the city gates, one of the guards staggered back, face draining of colour.
"That's him," someone muttered behind the wall. "The Dragon Prince."
Steel scraped free of sheaths. The shout went up, and the guards swarmed.
Natsu let them seize him. They yanked him off his horse with violent force. He hit the ground hard, the wind once again knocked out of him. Spit hit his face. Someone crossed themselves, whispering prayers like he was already dead. Others scrambled backward, boots skidding over stone, all trying to keep their distance from the boy who'd led the rebellion that got half their comrades killed. The brave ones surged forward.
The moment he lifted his head, swords were drawn. A guard lunged without warning, blade aimed at Natsu's chest. It was only the bark of a superior that stopped him.
"Hold! Alive—King's orders!"
The attacker froze mid-strike, chest heaving, blade hanging in the air. That was all it took. The others jumped in. Rough hands pinned the boy down. Someone grabbed his head and shoved it into the dirt. Another kicked Happy aside when the horse tried to circle back, spooked and stomping.
A chain was thrown around Natsu's neck and yanked tight. Too tight. Boots scraped back in haste as more guards encircled him, pressing against the stone walls like they feared he might ignite.
"Demon," one of them muttered, backing away. "He burned the gates. He slaughtered our men. He shouldn't be standing."
"Take it up with the king," the commander snapped, motioning for his subordinates to move.
No one spoke after that. Their fear was wordless. Bared in the way they wouldn't meet his eyes, in the way their weapons never lowered.
Natsu didn't resist. There was no fight left in him. If they feared him, fine. It was their problem. He didn't even fear himself anymore. They stripped him of his armour, his weapons, even the rags that barely held together on his bruised body. Maybe they'd kill him. Maybe that was mercy. His wrists were bound behind him as they dragged him through the halls to the throne room, forcing him to his knees before the king.
"Of all the people to betray me," Jude spoke, revulsion lining his tone. "I least expected it from you."
Natsu lifted his head slowly, exhaustion and pain dimming his vision. Beside the throne stood Zeref, his expression unreadable as he looked down at his younger brother's beaten form.
Zeref.
Of course. He knew.
Why would he tell?
He promised.
He promised.
…
Didn't he?
Zeref stepped forward with a dismal expression, feigned sorrow etched across his features, as if he wasn't the cause of this.
"Your Majesty," the dark-haired soldier began, showily bringing a hand over his heart. "I ask that you show mercy. Allow me to bear responsibility for my brother's actions. He is only fifteen. Please, I beg you to spare him."
Stop talking.
King Jude stood abruptly. Without a word, he crossed the distance between himself and Natsu, striking him across the face so hard that the boy crumpled sideways onto the marble floor. He made no move to rise or fight back. He lay still, accepting blow after kick as the king continued his assault, rage boiling over.
He hoped he'd kill him. Just once, let the enemy do the right thing. But the king was too cruel for mercy. He left him breathing.
"If you were anyone else, I would've had you executed!" Jude snarled, finally stepping away from Natsu's broken form. He leaned in slightly, studying Natsu's face like he was trying to catalogue the exact moment the last of his will splintered. Whatever he found, it made him smile—barely.
Across the room, Zeref's fingers twitched once at his side. His eyes dropped for a heartbeat, then lifted again, unreadable.
The king continued, "To atone for your sins, you will serve as my dog. When I say bark, you will bark. When I say fetch, you will fetch. That is the price for your worthless life."
Execute me.
Natsu lay there, blood dripping from his mouth. Despite his battered body, he managed to speak, his voice barely audible, yet firm. "Your people... are suffering."
Jude froze in his steps. Even Zeref stiffened, just for a second. The king turned his head slightly. "A lion does not concern itself with the opinions of sheep," Jude answered coldly, returning to his throne. Zeref quickly bowed his head, retreating a step as the king sat with all the grace of indifference. "Take him to Tartaros." Jude commanded, dismissing him with a careless wave. In an instant, the guards swarmed again.
Zeref moved to leave. As he passed the wreckage of his little brother, he slowed, just for a moment. No one noticed. No one looked. "I'm sorry, Natsu," he whispered, barely audible beneath the scrape of chains.
Natsu didn't lift his head. He didn't have the strength.
He was dragged roughly from the throne room, chains biting into his neck, an iron muzzle placed over his face to silence whatever remained of his voice. They pulled him out of the castle and past the small, modest home he had once shared with Zeref, a place filled now with bitter memories of broken trust.
You traitor.
They took him to the prison beyond Magnolia's walls, a place buried deep underground where sunlight never touched. And they left him there. Alone in the suffocating darkness of Tartaros, no trial, no name, no fire. He would spend the next year there in solitude.
That day, the last ember went out. Natsu Dragneel died with his rebellion. And all that remained was a ghost in chains.
a/n: ouch! war. im sorry
