Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled! Alduin, bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world!"

Whenever thunder rumbled in the distance, Lucy imagined it was the roar of the long lost dragons, echoing across the aeons.

A raven circled around the halo of the sun, creaking a sorrowful melody. The skies were still bright and blue, but clouds as dark as the blackbird’s wings loomed far in the horizon. It would rain in the evening, Lucy knew, a welcomed chance in the weather. The wells were running dry and the crops had suffered from the long drought, which worried her. A warm summer often meant that the winter would be cold and cruel, as nature always sought for balance.

But tonight, the rains would finally fall over Helgen. Thunder would split the skies and wild winds would wipe the dust out of the streets, cleansing the air that had stood still for too long. While most of the townsfolk always hid indoors when a storm hit, Lucy never did. She loved standing at the porch, watching how the trees bent below the raging skies. As a child, she had been told that the gods were playing their drums of war when it thundered. She never believed that. Instead, to her it was the echo of the ancient dragons, mighty beasts fighting behind the veil of clouds as they did centuries ago, when there were still dragons in Skyrim.

The day was just beginning, but Lucy sensed the change in the atmosphere when she stood at the porch, leaning against the wooden fence. The tension lingered on her skin like an aftershock, exciting but menacing. People walked past the house as they hurried to their daily duties. Loke, a lumberjack’s son ran towards the mill, flashing her a wide smile and waving his hand before disappearing into the crowd. Lucy smiled back at him. She had been told to smile and be kind to everyone, as a good merchant should. That’s how the customers would come.

Lucy turned her eyes from the townsfolk to the sun. She basked in its warmth, storing the light into herself to survive another day indoors. She worked in the store her family had owned for generations, selling trinkets and odds and ends all day long. It wasn’t a life she wanted to live, but as the only child of her family, she had no choice. One day, she’d inherit the store and run it herself, and she dreaded the very thought of that.

Lucy heard her mother’s voice from inside the house. She wasn’t calling for her to come, not yet. A shipment had arrived from Solitude and she was talking about that with Lucy’s father. Something was missing from it, apparently. Ignoring the sounds of a heating argument, Lucy focused on the gentle autumn wind that played with her fair hair, swaying the hem of her yellow dress.

It was Last Seed now, 17^th day, and summer was taking its last breaths. The leaves in birches and alders that framed the cobble-stoned streets were turning red and orange, and such sight filled Lucy’s heart with melancholic hope. It was easier to stay indoors during the winter months, when the hearth kept her warm, and fewer travellers passed by.

Ever since she had been little, she had listened to the travellers’ stories with stars in her eyes. She had heard of magic, of fierce battles steel on steel, of the riches found in the ancient Nordic ruins. She had heard how beautiful the mountains looked at the sunset, how spriggans and wispmothers traversed the misty woods at night, how the old automatons still worked in the depths of the Dwemer ruins. But of all things, it was the sense of freedom that resonated the most with her heart. Those adventurers had no chains around their ankles, and gods, how she envied that.

Lucy closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing her fingers around the fence as she once again felt the weight of the invisible shackle around her own ankle. She was chained to this store, chained to this city where nothing ever happened. For the seventeen years she had lived, she had come to despise a merchant’s life. It was just always the same: smiling at people, counting coins and filling the pages of the sales registry while others wrote the pages of history.

If she had a free choice, she’d rather be an adventurer, one of those who sometimes passed by purchasing goods and exchanging stories of their travels. Unfortunately, she could never be one. Her father had made sure of it. She was to be married off in a few years to some other merchant’s lastborn son, someone who could settle down with her and help with running the store when her parents would retire. Then the invisible shackle would become a golden ring in her finger, one she could never break.

To this day, Lucy had kept drowning herself in books, in tales of the deeds of ancient heroes. Those could never be taken from her. Especially during these times, when Skyrim was on the verge of being plunged into a bloody civil war, she knew she wouldn’t survive without the solace of her dreams. The darker the news of the current events turned, the more books she read, the deeper she delved into the stories until she could forget everything: this world, her fate, even her name.

Lately, more and more soldiers had arrived at her hometown. Helgen was a small, peaceful city near the southern border of Skyrim, but the Imperial Legion had changed that. With growing unrest, Lucy had witnessed the city turning into a base of operations while she barely knew what they were fighting for. Many Nords here opposed the Legion’s presence while some just adjusted to it. Her family was one of those who had chosen to adjust. Siding with the Empire was better for business, they said.

Personally, Lucy didn’t believe it. She had seen how the statues of Talos were torn down, how people were stolen of their faith and freedom. It had been quiet and lazy until last spring when the High King of Skyrim was murdered by a man called Ulfric Stormcloak. The man was raising a rebellion now, and the Imperials told that they had come to secure the common folk’s safety. If that was true, then why didn’t they let people worship the gods they had always believed in? Something was rotten about them. If her life had already been dull and dreadful, this damned war was the final nail to her casket.

And all Lucy could hear from her parents was how the war was bad for business.

She sighed, opening her eyes when she heard some ruckus at the distance. She thought it was the first rumble of thunder, but it wasn’t. The gates were opening on the other side of the city and the crowd had scattered, lining along the streets to welcome the arrivals. The horns sounded three times as Imperial commanders stepped in, guiding a horse-drawn cart along the way. Lucy squinted her eyes to see better in the bright sunlight. The folks hailed, shouting ‘Traitor!’ or ‘Kingslayer!’ as the cart passed by.

When the wagons reached her house, it took a moment for Lucy to understand that it was Ulfric Stormcloak sitting in the cart, bound and gagged. What in the Oblivion had happened, just when the thought of the rebellion had crossed her mind? The wagons were headed towards the plaza near her home. She turned her gaze, seeing how the Legion’s banners were raised to the air. Soldiers brought a wooden block from the storage tower and placed it in the middle of the plaza. And in that instant, Lucy realised that they’d hold an execution here, in the city where nothing ever happened.

Lucy’s eyes caught the sight of some High Elves in golden armour discussing with the commanders. Those were the Thalmor, Lucy knew. She had heard little of them, but their presence here meant something big had truly happened. Somehow, somewhere out there in the fields, the Legion seemed to have captured Ulfric Stormcloak. And now, here and today, they’d bring an end to the bloody war that was tearing Skyrim apart. Those elves didn’t seem to approve it, as if they opposed the execution. Well, only the Thalmor would benefit from brothers and sisters of Skyrim kept tearing each other to pieces.

The cheers caught the attention of Lucy’s parents. Her mother and father stepped to the porch but remained close to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at her mother. Worry crossed the face that looked so much like Lucy’s, but her mother was always the master of concealing her fear. Lucy turned her eyes back to the street. Three carts full of prisoners rode past the house, all of them sentenced to die. Most of them wore the cuirass of the Stormcloak rebels, except for two young men sitting in the last cart.

Those two were mages.

Lucy recognized the sigil of the College of Winterhold in the robes they wore. Some mages had visited their store too, only to get disappointed – but not surprised – when there weren’t spells or enchanted items available for sale. Lucy’s heart wrenched at the fate of those mages. They weren’t rebels. They weren’t supposed to be there.

One of the mages turned his head and glanced straight at Lucy. All the noise around her silenced when she gazed back at those calm, green eyes that seemed to have seen everything, but it was the colour of his hair that mesmerized her. Dark-pink strands framed his face, the same hue as the nightshade flowers that grew in the graveyards. As he noticed her staring back at him, he quickly turned his gaze away. A sudden melancholy flooded into Lucy’s soul as the wagon reached the plaza. The mage had looked young, way too young to die.

When the soldiers forced the prisoners to form lines, mother stepped closer to Lucy. “My dear, you should get inside,” mother said sternly.

Lucy shook her head, unable to turn her gaze from the mages. The other one was a Dark Elf, judging from the grey skin, bright red eyes and sharp elven ears, but Lucy couldn’t tell which race the pink-haired mage was. He was small of build, scrawny and short, possibly a Breton. There was no restlessness in him as he was placed in the line next to his friend as their names were read on a list. He kept staring down, but not a hint of fear crossed his face. He was almost smiling, facing death bravely with no regrets, knowing he had lived a life that was full. And Lucy almost envied that, too. The time she’d lay on her deathbed, all she’d have would be the regret of never actually living while she was still alive.

“No,” Lucy answered to her mother. “I want to see this.”

She had never seen a person die before. She had never even seen a pig butchered, she had only heard the screams. Now, she wanted to see. Perhaps seeing the price for freedom would finally change her mind, make her bury her dreams and kiss them goodbye. Lucy’s mother placed her arm around her back, supporting her decision. Deep down, Lucy knew she understood. Maybe after this, she’d be happy to live her life as a merchant, safe from the dangers outside Helgen’s walls.

However, her father spat over the fence as he glared at the prisoners. A priest of Arkay was giving them their last rites now. “Wonder what those mages from the College did this time,” he growled, ire in his voice as his eyes locked to the pink-haired wizard. Lucy’s father was a typical Nord who distrusted magic and its users, but her mother’s ancestors had been mages. Unfortunately, father’s word weighed more than mother’s, and so magic was a taboo in her household. Perhaps for that reason, it always intrigued her the most. “Destroyed another village, perhaps? It’s good that the Empire is finally taking care of the wizard menace.”

Lucy’s angered gaze shot to her father, but she swallowed a sharp retort. Sometimes, when father turned travelling wizards away from the store, Lucy used to run after them to apologize. She loved discussing with mages, for she had always adored the things magic was capable of doing. For the very same reason, most feared it. But she didn’t. In her most secret dreams, she ran away from this damned down and joined the College of Winterhold. There she could learn magic, wield it as her ancestors did. She never told her parents she dreamt of that instead of giving sons to a man someone else had chosen for her. Father would have her head for just thinking of such blasphemy.

Suddenly, the Dark-Elf mage shouted something over the priest’s last blessing, interrupting the ceremony. Lucy flinched as the moment of tranquillity was shattered. The mages were last in the line, but this changed the minds of the Legionnaires. Soldiers marched to the elf and grabbed him from the shoulders, dragging him to the block. The pink-haired mage who had stood beside flit in rage, all calmness in him gone as he writhed and fought against the soldiers who tried to hold him down.

Lucy raised her hand over her mouth. The soldiers pressed the elven mage to the block when the headsman came. Fully clad in black leather, he lifted his axe high to the sky. The townspeople roared in cheers, but all Lucy could hear was the desperate crying of the other mage who was forced to watch his friend die. And somewhere across the mountains, the thunder rumbled for the first time.

Then, the headsman swung the axe.

All noise was silenced when blood burst from the severed neck. Lucy gasped, holding her breath as her stomach sunk to the bottom of her body. Even the crying mage fell silent, numb as the lonely head rolled down the plaza. Lucy shivered, sickness spreading over her. She wanted to turn her eyes away and bury her face into her mother’s chest, but she couldn’t. She just watched. This was the price of freedom – did she really want to pay it?

The air grew heavy with anticipation and shock. The storm was creeping in faster than it should, but nobody seemed to notice that. This macabre show had stolen away everyone’s attention. The Thalmor on the side of the plaza withdrew into the city keep to continue the negotiations with the commanders. They didn’t even care to be present when the rebellion would be put to the end, not to even talk about respecting the lives that would be taken here today.

Lucy turned her eyes back to the block when the soldiers pulled the headless body away and replaced it with the pink-haired mage. Lucy wanted to scream, make them stop. The mages had nothing to do with the civil war – for whatever reason they had ended up on the block, they should at least be given a fair trial first. If this was the Legion’s sense of justice, Lucy didn’t want to be ruled over by them. Tears flowed down the mage’s cheeks as his neck was pressed into the still-warm blood of his friend. The damn bastards were smiling as they did that.

“A man should face his death with courage, not weeping like a milk-drinker,” father muttered, grimacing mockingly at the mage’s tears. Lucy glared at him again, unable to believe he said that. Tears welled up in her own eyes too, forcing her to look away. She couldn’t show disrespect to her father. Mother rubbed her back, letting her know that she disagreed with him too. There just wasn’t any comfort in it, not now.

Louder than before, thunder rumbled in the distance. It no longer sounded like an upcoming storm, but something else completely. People turned their heads to the skies that were still bright and cloudless. Even the soldiers wondered what was going on, silent questions were whispered in the air, but the general commanded them to continue. The execution was better to get over with before the storm would hit.

The headsman lifted his greataxe again, but this time, Lucy couldn’t watch. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited to hear the same sickening thump of a man’s head dropping to the ground, the swooshing of blood, and the cheers of townspeople to whom this was only macabre entertainment in a town where nothing ever happened.

But then, a deafening roar filled the skies.

Instantly, Lucy’s eyes shot open. Scared out of her wits, she saw how the axe dropped from the headsman’s hands, missing the mage’s head with mere inches. The entire plaza quaked when something landed on top of the watchtower, feeling like one of the moons had fallen down. The excited cheers twisted into frightened screams as the panicked crowd began to disperse. Frozen in place, Lucy slowly moved her gaze from the enormous shadow to the source of it, the creature sitting atop the tower.

“What in the Oblivion is that!?” her father shouted in terror, grabbing his wife and daughter into his arms. Lucy began to tremble as she locked eyes with the black, scaly beast. It spread its wings, covering the entire plaza under a shadow, and then it roared again.

Lucy knew what it was.

It was a dragon.

And with its roar, flames emerged from its mouth, between those fangs as tall as a man. It breathed fire, dragonfire, that flooded over the streets alighting everything and everyone aflame.

 Upon the dragon’s command, the bright skies were turned into a battlefield of stormclouds, shrouding the sun in darkness as if the night had suddenly fallen. Lucy watched as the town was engulfed in flames, how the legionnaires and rebels and common folk turned into living torches all the same.

There was only one thought in Lucy’s mind at the moment.

The dragons weren’t supposed to be real.

Now, they were.

The creature took flight again, each wing strike creating a gust of whirlwind that threw Lucy off her balance. Father tried to grasp her tighter, but she slipped out of his hold and was thrown to the stone wall. They screamed her name, tried to reach for her as her mind began to darken with the skies. Her limbs turned heavy and frozen, she hit her head to the crumbling wall as her parents disappeared to the other side of the debris.

Lucy tried to hold on, tried to awaken from this nightmare, but she couldn’t. Pain overwhelmed her as something tumbled down on top of her, rocks and cracked wood as the dragon slashed its tail at her home. Her vision blurred and the sounds of destruction faded into nothingness, and then everything was black.

“Hey, girl, wake up. Wake up now. We have to get out of here!”

Someone’s voice carried through the darkness as her senses began to awaken. Lucy felt a tight grasp around her wrists, felt herself being pulled out of burning heat. Her heart pounded in a panicked, irregular rhythm, sending waves of pain all over her body. She cracked her eyes open, but she couldn’t see anything else than the faint outlines of the same someone who kept speaking to her with a slow, steady voice of a young man.

“Good, you’re finally awake. Come on. We don’t have much time. We have to find a way out before that thing kills us, too.”

From the black robes and pink hair, Lucy recognized him as one of the prisoners, the one she had exchanged a glance with. His hands were unbound now, and he threw aside the rocks and planks that kept her trapped under the collapsed wall. He tugged hard on her wrists and finally released her below the burning wood, helping her on her feet. The long hem of her yellow dress was now torn. Blood flowed down her bare shins, but she couldn’t see where it was coming from. As if her whole body had been crushed, she couldn’t locate the pain. It was all around her.

“Can you walk?” the mage asked hastily, trying to get contact with her eyes while keeping his head down. Lucy couldn’t look at the man, she just kept staring at the utter devastation behind him. The view from the porch, the one she had been gazing at for her entire life, had turned into a fiery ruin. Flames and black smoke filled the air, heavy with the stench of searing flesh.

And before Lucy could answer, the dragon soared over, the rapid blow of air pushing both of them off their feet.

The mage grasped her as they tumbled to the ruins of the porch, shielding her with his arm and pressing her to the ground until the dragon disappeared behind the walls. It roared, breathing more fire into the ever-burning ruins, but somehow the flames avoided her. No, they avoided the mage. Lucy saw how the flames were repelled from the aura around him, and he had pulled her close within that protective aura. That was the power of magic.

When the dragon had flown to the other district of the town, the mage rose and pulled her back up. Not letting go of her wrist, he dragged her on, slowly at first to see if she could run. She took a few clumsy steps – good, her legs still carried. He walked her down to the street, but then she halted.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice cracked and dry. “My… my parents, they… I can’t leave them, I must –”

The mage glanced at something behind her, falling silent as if he was apologizing. Lucy’s chest tightened in terror. She thought she’d faint again. What had happened to her parents? She couldn’t hear their voices anymore. Slowly, as if evading the inevitable truth, she turned her head back to the porch. And then, her heart was torn apart by the sight.

Two scorched corpses lay among the flames. Her mother’s skin had turned black, her long fair hair was gone, but she could still recognize her features. Even in death, she held tight on her husband, Lucy’s father, who had burned, melted into something she couldn’t even recognize. With his own body, her father had protected her mother, but it hadn’t been enough. The collapsed stone wall had prevented Lucy from the same fate. Shock and denial taking over her mind, Lucy shook her head. Tears refused to come. She couldn’t cry, for this was only a dream she’d soon wake up.

It just had to be.

“We’ve got to go now,” the mage muttered then. “I’m sorry, but we just have to go.”

Burning hot air got stuck in Lucy’s throat as she struggled for a breath. The black dragon’s roars were getting closer once again, and so the mage set forward, a strong tug on her arm forcing Lucy to tear her eyes away from the corpses. The mage ran across the plaza, agilely jumping over the pieces of broken wagons and burned bodies. Lucy’s numb feet stumbled on them, but the man helped her back up each time she fell.

“You’re from this town, right?” he asked, now shouting to have his voice heard over the ruckus and soaring flames. “You know how to get out? Can’t go back to the north gate, that way’s blocked.”

Lucy wondered how the man could remain so calm in the middle of chaos. She couldn’t think, couldn’t even remember where the gates were anymore, despite having lived in Helgen for her whole life. She just kept shaking her head as the mage dragged her on across the burning town she no longer recognized. The screams were getting quiet as the dragon’s flames claimed more lives. A rain of arrows flew through the air as the soldiers tried to shoot at the dragon, but they bounced back from the impenetrable scales.

How could one even fight such a thing? Despair took over Lucy’s broken heart. What was the point of running away, if the beast would kill them anyway, no matter what they’d do? Would this be the end of her, the end of them all?

But then Lucy glanced into the mage’s eyes. Reflections of fire danced in them, but he didn’t fear it. His gaze kept searching for an escape route, scanning the edges of the plaza, trying to see through the smoke and flames. But above all, there was determination in his eyes. Lucy knew he would walk through the fire if he must. He might’ve just lost a friend and barely escaped death himself, but it didn’t paralyze him. Instead, it pushed him forward, empowered him as if nothing in the world would stop him from living. Not even a dragon.

And it seemed he had decided that she would survive with him.

The dragon flew through the black smoke, landing once more atop the watchtower. At that moment, Lucy saw a crevice in the city wall on the other side of the plaza. It wasn’t too far away, but how could they get through the shelterless opening? A young kid, the baker’s son was running aimlessly around the destruction. He was shouting after his mother, looking through the corpses without knowing he’d join her in death soon enough. The mage halted, forcing Lucy to stop as well. The dragon aimed its breath at the boy, and then the child disappeared into raging flames.

Lucy’s legs refused to carry her any further as the dragon rose on its wings again, covering them under its unbound shadow. She wanted to fall and surrender to the mercy of the flames, but the mage didn’t let her. He saw the spot where the wall had collapsed. That would be their way out, and the dragon saw it too. Straight from the prophecies of the end times, it had come here today, brought by fate to destroy everything.

The dragon landed on the plaza. The ground quaked from the impact and cobbled stones of the streets flew through the air. With its tail, it swiped down a line of soldiers that had kept shooting at it with their bows. The strike cut the armoured man in half. It was close enough to do the same to Lucy if they’d try to escape through the wall. Lucy glanced at the mage again, but the determination in his eyes hadn’t gone anywhere.

“You see that crack in the city wall?” he asked quietly. Lucy nodded, her head pounding in pain. “When I say so, run across the plaza and jump through.”

Lucy couldn’t understand what he was talking about. “But what –”

“Just do that, okay?”

The mage released his hold around her wrists and stepped in front of her. The flames truly avoided him, as if a protective ward was cast around his body. Staying in the shelter of his magic, Lucy stared at the dragon as it killed the last soldiers. Just what did the mage intend to do? Distract its attention or even attack the dragon?

Then, the mage enveloped his hands in flames.

He didn’t gather the fire from the surroundings, he cast it himself from his own magic. Lucy’s eyes widened as the man held the flames in his fingers and it didn’t burn him. He brought his hands together, stoking the fire until it formed into a ball of explosive energy. Then he aimed, locking eyes with the dragon, and threw the fireball at the dragon with all of his force.

“Now!”

The pressure wave of the explosion pushed her forward. A blinding cloud of dust and smoke shrouded the dragon’s sight for just a second, but it was enough for them to run. As fast as they could, Lucy and the mage reached the wall and jumped through the hole. What a wonderful strike of luck it was that her house was located near the outer walls of the city, but that wasn’t enough. They weren’t safe yet. The mage helped her back up, caught her hand again, and then they kept running.

Lucy heard how the screams from the town silenced, how the dragon’s roars grew more distant the further they ran into the western forest of Helgen. The screams went fully quiet sooner than the roars, as they seemed to echo through the skies no matter how far they got. The scrubs and branches tore more cuts to her bare shins, but she no longer felt the pain. Her mind went blankly white as she fought for survival.

They didn’t stop running until they were in the depths of the forest, and could no longer see the city burning behind them. The mage collapsed between large, mossy rocks, pulling her into their shelter with his last strength. Panting heavily, Lucy rested her back against the boulder and closed her eyes. She couldn’t see anything but the memory of her parents scorched to death. Still, she waited for this nightmare to end, for her to wake in her bed again with a relieving realization that it had been just a terrible, terrible dream.

The longer she waited, the more she understood that it was not a dream.

Her whole world had come burning down in a blink of an eye, and no, it was not a nightmare.

A powerful sob shook her once. She tried to hold back the tears, suffocate the weeping, but now she couldn’t. She turned her glossy eyes to the mage sitting beside her. The young man stared into nothingness in a catatonic state, and somehow, Lucy found comfort in that. She wasn’t alone in this chaos, alone in this pain. This mage had rescued her, given her a chance to survive, live, for she would’ve died without his help. Even if the immeasurable loss was tearing her apart, she felt glad she was still breathing.

And she wanted to thank him for it.

“Hey…” Lucy started, but the mage silenced her by bringing his finger to his lips. Understanding that they had to remain quiet and hide until the dragon would be surely gone, she lowered her voice into a whisper. “What’s… what’s your name?”

In silence, the mage kept staring at the tree stump in front of him. Lucy just wanted to know his name, that was all, but she prepared herself to accept that he might not want to tell it. He had almost got executed. His name was on the death list of the Legionnaires, after all.

But then, he turned towards her and whispered, “I’m Natsu, of Dragonbridge.”

Lucy studied his blood-stained robes with her gaze. He truly wore the sigil of the Mage’s College of Winterhold, that she hadn’t mistaken of.

“Thank you, Natsu,” Lucy said silently, lifting her eyes from the sigil to his. She tried to force a smile, but failed. Only tears poured down her face like an endless stream, making the mage turn his gaze away.

For all her life, she had dreamt of an escape. She had dreamt of running away from that damned town, adventuring all around Skyrim, delving into the lost secrets of magic, and now her dreams had come true in the most terrifying way. A dragon had broken her chains, a creature that wasn’t even supposed to exist. Lucy looked down at her bleeding legs. Perhaps for the first time, she no longer felt the weight of the invisible shackle around her ankle.

As she wept, one thought came clear in the chaos of her mind. Freedom had once been all she had longed for, and now she had nothing left but freedom. And as her previous life lay in ashes, she was free to choose a new one.

Just like the mage had decided he would survive, she had to make the decision, too.

Lucy wiped the tears from her eyes, glancing at the sigil of the College again. She assumed the mage would get back there from now. She couldn’t let this chance pass by her. She had always dreamt of joining the College of Winterhold, and now it was finally possible. Lucy gathered all of her courage, prepared a question that would entirely change the direction of her life.

“I… I have no place to go now,” she started, catching the mage’s attention. “Could I… Could I come with you to the College?”

Something which faintly resembled a smile flashed on his face before it was gone, but it was enough to spark hope in the ruins of Lucy’s heart.

“Yeah, of… of course,” he answered quietly and nodded. “I… I think I had you figured for a mage.”

For a brief moment, Lucy smiled through her tears. She couldn’t describe how much it mattered to her to hear those words right now, when everything else in her life was gone. This mage had seen the remnants of magic in her, and in that she placed her hope. Maybe, just maybe something new would rise from the ashes of the old, for an end was always also a beginning.

 The Map of Skyrim. Helgen, the story's starting location is in the south.

Dragon attacking Helgen

Chapter Text

It wasn’t supposed to be anything too serious.

That thought had echoed in Natsu’s head for the past few days. Perhaps somehow he’d always known things would end badly for him, but not yet, not so damn soon. Especially because of a small quest, so insignificantly simple.  

He and his best friend, a Dark Elf named Igneel, had been passing through Shor’s Stone. They’d been spending a night in the local inn, drinking mead and reminiscing the adventures they had last summer, when a farmer came to talk to them. The farmer had found out that his wife had slept with their neighbouring blacksmith. He had forgiven his poor wife, but to keep his family’s honour, he needed the blacksmith out of the picture. Rather permanently, but without any murdery. If the two travelling mages could do something to scare the blacksmith so badly that he’d leave the town, it would be perfect.

Well, already slightly drunk, they had accepted the job. Why not, that should’ve been easy enough. As a necromancer, Igneel had got a brilliant idea. They’d resurrect a Draugr from the nearby barrow and lead it to the blacksmith’s door at night, that should frighten the man shitless. However, choosing a Draugr overlord for the task had been a little too much.

It had seemed good at first. Everything had gone according to the plan until the blacksmith picked up his sword and attacked the Draugr, not scared at all. The noise had woken up half the village. Igneel had lost control over the Draugr, it had struck the blacksmith to the leg with its rusty blade, then charged at everyone else. Natsu had thrown firebolts at the thing, but few shots had missed, setting a house or two aflame. As if it wasn’t bad enough, the damned Imperials arrived at the chaotic scene, and arrested them both.

And without any further trials, they were sentenced to die.

’Mages like you are too dangerous to be left alive’, they had said. But killing only one of them had been their greatest mistake.

And now, everything was a blur. Black, endless blur. 

When twilight fell on the forest, Natsu was still shivering from shock. His toes and fingers were freezing, but he didn’t dare to build a campfire. Not yet. The black dragon had recently soared over them and flown north, but it didn't mean it was gone. How could a dragon even exist? Natsu didn’t know. He could barely understand it had been a real, living thing, when everything still felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake from.

The blonde girl in a torn, yellow dress sat next to him, legs brought to her chest, resting her head on her knees. She was still sobbing, and it made his head ring. Natsu had tried to ignore it, tried to shush when she got too loud, but nothing seemed to work. He hated it when women cried. Bad memories.

”Could you… could you just… shut up,” he muttered to the girl, failing to not sound rude. ”Wailing won’t bring your… your parents back, but the… the dragon, it’s still...”

The girl lifted her head from her knees, giving him a grim glare. Her brown eyes were bloodshot and swollen, glistening as she wept. She sunk her fingers into the cold moss underneath her as her body tensed when he spoke. 

”Just… stop crying,” Natsu told as the girl kept staring at her. He didn’t know how to comfort her, when he wanted to scream his lungs out as well. He only wanted her to keep quiet before his head would explode. ”I’m sick of… listening to… that.”

”You cried too,” she retorted, her trembling voice filling with waking anger. ”When… When they chopped your friend’s head off, you cried… too.”

Natsu shook his head, feeling a strike in his heart. ”I didn’t –”

”My father…" she started and took a deep, shivering breath. "He said a man should face his death with… with courage instead of… wailing like a milk-drinker.”

Natsu silenced. Damned Nords with their ideals about honourable, courageous death. Natsu had long ago learnt to hide his tears from this cold, ruthless world, but couldn’t a man show his grief when his dearest friend gets brutally executed right in front of his eyes? Because at that moment, the world had been way too merciless. Natsu hoped that the girl didn’t share her father’s values. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stand the journey to Winterhold with her, if she still wanted to join the Mage’s College.

"Damn you, Nord girl,” he muttered, the stutter from his speech clearing up when he spoke quietly enough. A brief silence fell. The girl snifled, wiping her eyes and suffocating a few sobs into her hands. Then she lowered them, glancing at him.

“My... my name is Lucy, not a Nord girl,” she whispered through the tears, catching Natsu’s attention.

"Luigi?"

"Lucy!" she hissed.

Natsu nodded slowly. It was a rare name for a Nord, but she certainly was one. Her fair skin and hair left no room for doubt. He didn't know who she had been before this happened, but she didn't represent Natsu's image about Nords. Being a Breton himself, he knew them as hot-blooded warriors, but Lucy, who wanted to be a wizard, didn’t seem like that.

Well, Natsu hadn’t even known many Nords in his eighteen years of life. There had once been a Nord named Erza, a warrior from the Companions, who he’d brawled with. She had broken his bones, and his ribs still ached if he laughed hard enough. Then, there was Gray, a crazy frost mage from the College. To put it simply, Natsu hated his whole existence. So, Natsu didn’t quite know what to expect from Lucy. If she wouldn’t hit too hard or annoy him to death, it would be great.

”Well, Lucy,” he started, daring to speak a bit louder than before.  ”We have to sit in this cold, mossy shithole until it gets dark, so could we… talk, maybe? But please, about something else than… well, things that would make us cry.”

Natsu was sure by then that the dragon wouldn’t come for them. If it hadn’t heard Lucy’s weeping, it wouldn’t hear them speaking. And the longer he’d sit there quietly, the more excruciating his grief would grow. A little distraction, anything, anything would be better than this haunting silence. Because in that silence, Natsu could only see Igneel’s head rolling down the plaza, blood spraying from his neck, the wicked grin on the headman’s face –

”Why… Why were you there?” she asked, causing him to turn his gaze at her, the chain of distressing visions dissolving for a while. ”Why… were you sentenced to die?” 

”For burning half of Shor’s Stone,” he answered bluntly, and the girl’s eyes widened. ”W-why looking at me like that? What did you think I did? Killed a chicken in Riverwood or something?” 

”I… I didn’t think you were actually a criminal,” she mumbled, sounding a bit terrified. ”Great... so now I’m stuck in this cold s-shithole with a... pyromancer.”

Natsu’s eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t describe himself as a criminal. He always did what he thought was truly right, even if it meant breaking some laws along the way. Still, there was no denying he caused some unnecessary destruction every now and then. Fire was like that, uncontrollable and wild. Just like him. 

”Listen here, I’m not a thug, a thief, or an assassin or… something,” Natsu assured. ”It was an accident. The Shor’s Stone thing. It’s the Imperials you should... be afraid of. The bastards killed my best friend and enjoyed it, I fucking saw it in their eyes.”

She was silent for a moment. The fear in her eyes flickered out. Somehow, she was convinced, and somehow, she trusted it had truly been an accident. ”I’ve seen it too,” Lucy answered with a shaky breath. ”I know the real face of the Empire.”

Trembling, Natsu nodded. He hadn’t cared about the civil war until now. He hadn’t cared who would rule the country until now. But after this day he saw everything in a different light. Because if not for the Imperials, Igneel would still be alive. If the Stormcloak forces had solved the little accident at Shor’s Stone, some bounty for arson would’ve been enough.

”If the dragon hadn’t burned them, I would’ve," he mumbled into his cold hands. "Damn insane fucks. Shit, I think I’ll have to join the Stormcloaks now, to show them not to mess with mages. Yes, that would do it. It would avenge Igneel’s death... Killing all of them to the last man...” 

The girl stared at him in silence, letting him mumble out his anger. For now, those were only words, something to keep him from setting the world on fire. Too often, his rage manifested in flame – and today, there had been enough of it.

”Why did you save me?" the girl asked suddenly, stopping his cursing. "You... You didn’t have to. You could’ve just... escaped, and left me to die. Why risk your life... for me?” 

Silent, Natsu turned his eyes to her, and thought for an answer. When the cloud of barely-reigned rage began to subside, he realised that he didn’t know it himself. Survival instinct had driven his actions, and somehow reached out to her as well.

”I saw you on the porch, looking like… like you didn’t belong there,” Natsu answered, recalling the morning which seemed like a lifetime ago. ”And when I saw you buried under that rubble, but still alive, I thought I’d… help you out.”

Lucy's confused gaze stayed on him for a while. A hint of gratitude lingered in her eyes.

”So... what are we going to do now?” she asked then. ”It’s getting cold and dark. Should we go to Whiterun? It’s near, has strong walls and a lot of soldiers. If the dragon comes back.”

Natsu scoffed. ”You’d really take a death row prisoner to Whiterun? There are Imperials there. It’s... It's not like the dragon made my sentence go away.” 

”Any other ideas? We're freezing to death here.”

Natsu thought for a moment. He didn’t know the area well, but they had to find shelter soon. The Imperials had taken his weapons and coins, and the girl didn’t have anything with her. She wouldn’t survive in a torn dress. They had to find some equipment, and one place came to Natsu’s mind.

”There’s a run-down mine nearby. Embershard.”

Puzzled, Lucy raised her brow. ”Isn’t it full of bandits?”

”Nothing I can’t handle," Natsu assured. "Let’s smoke them out, take their stuff, stay there overnight and leave at dawn. We could go to Riverwood, and from there to Windhelm before heading to Winterhold.”

”Sounds... dangerous."

As Lucy lowered her eyes to the ground, Natsu understood she didn't buy his plan. But it was the only option they got. If they'd wander aimlessly in the dark forest, they'd end up dead. And despite losing his best friend, Natsu didn't want to die. No matter how horrible it felt, he couldn't give up now. 

Igneel wouldn't want that. 

”Bandits are nothing compared to what we just survived," Natsu said. "It’ll soon be dark enough to move safely. We just... hold on a little while.”

Lucy stared at him for a moment, but then she nodded hesitantly. "Okay," she whispered, causing a stone to roll from Natsu's shoulders. He was glad she accepted it. He didn't want to leave her alone either.

”You’d... still like to talk about... something?” he asked then, but Lucy turned her eyes away and shook her head. He accepted that, too. At least she wasn’t crying anymore. 

For now, silence was good enough. 

By the time the night fell, Lucy's whole body ached from crouching under the pines. A wolf howled in the distance; a clear sign that their hiding place wasn't safe anymore, but Lucy waited for the mage to make the first move. She trusted he’d know better when to get going. 

While they sat there in silence, Lucy’s heart grew cold and numb along with her fingers. The sharpest shock wore off as everything became cloudy, like mist enveloping the forest in the autumn morning. It all seemed like a bizarre dream: the dragon attacking the city, her parents burning alive, escaping through the flames... such things couldn’t really happen. It all had to be just a dream. 

Strange calmness filled her mind as she lulled into that belief. It all was just a dream. Perhaps she had run away from home and crossed paths with this travelling mage who would take her to the College. Almost like she had always imagined.

”We should get moving now,” the mage whispered, interrupting the trail of Lucy’s thoughts. Brought back to the present moment in the cold, dark forest, Lucy let her gaze meet the mage’s as she nodded. 

Following his example, Lucy rose up and stretched her limbs. She wiped moss and spruce needles from her dress, noticing how badly it had torn. It had once reached her ankles but now it barely covered her knees. Scratches filled her bare shins but she couldn’t feel any pain. 

She couldn’t feel anything, really.

The mage started heading in a direction opposite from where they had come. There weren’t any paths on the forest floor to follow, but Lucy hoped he knew where to go. She hadn’t been outside Helgen’s walls at night, and couldn’t navigate in the darkness. The mage fumbled forward for a while before glimpsing a clearing, which turned out to be a road. 

The road from Helgen to Riverwood, the one Lucy had walked many times. 

As she stepped out of the forest after the mage, Lucy raised her eyes to the sky. Thousands and thousands of stars sparkled against the black velvet, accompanied by the two moons, Masser and Secunda. The sight brought comfort to Lucy. A familiar road with a familiar night sky. 

Lucy caught the mage staring at the silhouette of the Bleak Falls Barrow, contrasting against the night sky, on the other side of a river. He had stopped, his brow furrowing as if he was deep in thought. Moonlight shone on his face, letting Lucy study his features for a moment. Especially his large, dark eyes caught her attention, a magical mystery unravelled behind his gaze. 

”Embershard mine is somewhere here,” he said, voice shaking. His teeth rattled against each other as he trembled restlessly to keep warm. ”I remember those ruins.”

Lucy didn’t answer as he pulled a hood over his head and disappeared into the night with his dark robes. Quickly, she followed him. She didn’t want to get lost in the woods alone. The mage left the road again and walked into the forest, heading towards the bedrock’s face near them.

She had a vague idea of where the mine was supposed to be. She had passed by many times on her way to Riverwood, but never at night. Her father had said it was a dangerous place overrun by outlaws. She would’ve been afraid to go there before, but now nothing seemed to scare her. If the worst imaginable thing had already happened to her, what could a few bandits do? Nothing. 

Torchlight glowed in the middle of the forest, fluttering against the pines. The mage slowed down to silence the cracking sticks and rustling leaves beneath his feet. A shadow moved on the ground as someone kept guard at the mine’s entrance. 

The mage didn’t give any warning as purple light appeared on his palm. Lucy’s eyes widened as he shot it forward, summoning a portal where a flaming creature passed through. In the shape of a demonic woman, a flame atronach appeared right in front of the mine. Lucy heard a scream, followed by running steps as the guard ran away. 

Lucy turned to the mage as he chuckled quietly. "So you're a pyromancer and a conjurer?" she asked.

The flame atronach gave up chasing the bandit and floated closer to them. Lucy flinched as she felt its heat on her skin, and stared at it in awe. She had never seen a Daedra before. It was beautiful, but terrifying at the same time.

”Not really,” the mage answered. He closed the portal with a swift move of a hand and the creature disappeared.  ”I focus on fire-based destruction magic, but I conjure flame atronachs sometimes. They’re... well, helpful.”

Lucy looked at him, trying to recall his name. He had said it earlier, but Lucy’s mind couldn’t hold onto it. She could only remember him telling how he burned half of the Shor’s Stone. It had made her nervous at first, but it didn’t bother her anymore. He had said he wasn’t a bad guy, and Lucy wanted to believe that.

She didn’t really have any other choice.

”I’d like... to learn conjuration too,” Lucy whispered abruptly while staring at him. ”My great-grandmother Anna was a conjurer. A very good one.” 

”Really? That’s...” he said, looking down to avoid her eyes. ”I don’t know many Nord conjurers, but if she was good, then you might have some talent. Good luck with that.”

His tone wasn’t mocking, but not supportive either. Lucy deemed he was still in shock and couldn’t find anything proper to say. So was she. Mumbling about her great-grandmother to a perfect stranger? It had been a secret she shouldn’t have spilt.

Every time she had talked with a mage, her parents had been nearby, but now they were gone. She could talk about magic to her heart’s content. Her words were still shaky, her mind in a blur, but magic had always been her biggest dream. It managed to pierce through the haze and grab Lucy’s hand, pull her back to the surface before she’d fall into bottomless pit of grief.

”Do you know any other magic?” Lucy asked, curiosity seeping through her. The mage furrowed his brow, surprised by her sudden chattiness. 

”Some restoration spells,” he answered with a one-sided shrug. ”Healing, you know. It’s useful. And I can conjure a dagger. I used to have a glass dagger with me, but the bastards took it.”

Lucy nodded. She had read a little about the different schools of magic, but she lacked any hands-on experience about them. Seeing him casting those fireballs had been the first time she saw anyone using magic. He seemed skilled, but well, not just anyone could be accepted to the College of Winterhold. Perhaps he could teach her something before they’d make it there?

”Anyway, we should carry on,” the mage said, gesturing towards the mine. ”There’s probably more bandits there, but I’ll smoke them out somehow. There’s been enough death today.”

The mage walked to the mine’s door and left it open as he stepped in. Suddenly, she hesitated as old fears surged over her. She had always been told to avoid situations like this – just gods knew what the bandits would do to her if the mage failed to chase them away. Maybe she shouldn't do this. Extra pair of hands would always be needed in Riverwood Trader, if she’d choose safety over adventures.

But, shaking her head, Lucy decided not to need safety anymore. Safety had become her cage, strangling her like chains. 

Warmth surged into her freezing bones as she stepped into the mine. The air smelled of moist earth and strong ale, and torches fluttered on the walls of the tunnel. Lucy could only see a shadow of the mage as he had hurried forward. She walked after him, trying hard to memorise his name. She didn’t want to ask it again. 

Lucy reached the mage at the entrance of a greater chamber. Crouching where the tunnel ended, he collected some moss and mushrooms from the ground and prepared them in a ball. Lucy frowned, struggling to understand what he was doing. 

Then a single spark from the mage’s fingertip set the ball on fire, puffing a cloud of black smoke in the air. She heard chatter coming from below them, but didn’t dare to peek past the corner. 

"The idiots will think the mine is on fire and flee through the back end," he whispered. Then he tossed the ball to the ground and took a few steps back. The murmur grew louder as the bandits smelled the smoke, but Lucy couldn’t separate the words. They sounded alert.

And by accident, Lucy couched as the smoke found its way into her lungs.

’Is someone there?’

”Fuck,” the mage cursed silently as one of the bandits noticed him and picked up his axe. Lucy tried to apologise, but words got stuck in her throat. The mage stamped on the ball to put out the fire, exposing their hiding place at the same. 

Two rough-looking men appeared behind the smoke. The other one, a slim, red-haired man had a look in his eyes which evoked sickness in Lucy’s stomach. This was exactly what she’d been warned about. As if he was hungry, but not for food. For her.

”Tor, kill the boy while I catch the girl,” the bandit said to his friend. ”It has been a while since I’ve gotten a taste of a woman so pretty. Our lovely ladies look like filthy beasts.”

The mage raised his arm in front of Lucy to keep her back. She gasped as he enveloped his body in a cloak of flames before charging forward. He brought his hands together, casting a fireball between them and throwing it toward the bandit. The man screamed as it caught him, the force of the impact swaying him off his feet. 

The other bandit froze and stared at the mage with a fearful gaze. Showing no mercy, he grabbed the man from the neck, pouring fire straight into his body. Lucy shrieked as she watched flames gnawing away his skin, the pink turning into charcoal black. Almost like a dragon, the mage let his fire burn his enemies alive.

The mage let go of the man. He fell lifelessly to the ground, his fur armour still flaming. The other bandit rose behind the mage, his shaking fingers clutched to the handle of his axe.

”Son of a –”

He couldn’t finish his curse, for the mage turned around with another fireball readied in his hands. With full force, he tossed it at him, sending him flying to the back end of the chamber. Lucy could hear only a painful crack and distant groaning as the man hit the ground.

And as he rose no more, Lucy knew he was dead. 

Flames surrounding the mage dissolved. He wiped his forehead and glanced at Lucy. At an utter loss of words, she just stared at him, trembling. 

He had said he wasn’t a criminal, but here he was with two dead bodies at his feet.

”You... You said you wouldn’t kill them,” Lucy mumbled, lowering her gaze from the mage’s dark eyes to the corpse by his feet. ”You said you would smoke them out, not... kill them...”

The mage crouched by the body and lit the remains on fire. The flames intensified, beginning to turn the corpse into ashes. The smell of burning human flesh filled the chamber like it had filled the streets of Helgen. Lucy shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes, tears she thought she had already run out of.

”Well, I tried,” he answered and moved to the second corpse, to cremate it as well. Flames devoured the remains faster than Lucy had ever seen anything burn. ”I tried not to fight them. Trust me, I don’t kill unless I have to. These are outlaws, living by the rule kill or be killed. There is no other choice than to live by that as well when meeting them.”

”We could have asked them -”

”Ask them what?” he wondered, stepping away from the burning body. ”Should we have been like, ’hey, sorry, would you please be so kind and let us stay in your mine for a night? And you'd be so kind you wouldn't rape our fucking arses and slaughter us while we sleep?' It doesn't work like that with these people. These were the real criminals, not me.”

Lucy admitted in silence. He was right. The bandits would have killed him, captured her and... she didn’t even want to think about it. Whatever it would’ve been, this was better than that. Even though it felt so wrong in Lucy’s heart. He had saved her at the cost of two lives, yet she struggled to feel gratitude about it. Only shock.

”Okay,” she let out a long sigh. ”Is there... anyone else?”

The mage looked around, listening closely for any noises, but there was only silence. Lucy walked closer to him. It seemed they were alone now, but Lucy knew they shouldn’t lower their guard yet. They shouldn’t lower their guard ever again.

”So... you still want to come with me to Winterhold?” the mage asked suddenly.

Lucy’s eyes shot to him. His question was sincere, a hint of guilt seeping through his words. Lucy looked him into the eyes, comparing his gaze to the way the bandit had glared at her. There wasn’t that kind of evil or malice in his eyes. There wasn’t any kind of evil at all.

”Yes,” Lucy answered. ”I want to.”

He nodded as an answer and turned away, heading to the fireplace the bandits had built. He looked into the kettle and chuckled, as if to distract himself from the deaths, to pretend that he didn’t care.

“Well, there’s some… stew, I guess. Gods, it has been days since I last ate. Are you hungry?” he asked, then looked over his shoulder. The little joy in his eyes died as he saw her pale face. “Oh, yeah, I’ll understand if you don’t quite feel like eating…”

Suddenly, right then, Lucy remembered his name.

He was Natsu.

From now on to forever his name would mean freedom to her. Vast, inviting, but terrifying freedom.

A/N: The forest they're hiding at and the mine's entrance.

Chapter Text

For a while now, Lucy had been sitting in front of the dying cookfire, watching in silence as the last pieces of wood turned into coals. Her stomach growled in emptiness, but she just couldn’t force herself to eat that stew.

It seemed to be made from stale carrots, potatoes, wild herbs and mushrooms – or at least Lucy hoped those slimy brown things were mushrooms –  and the smell was so disgusting she could barely look at it. The mage didn’t seem bothered. He had devoured four bowls and was beginning the fifth.

“This is delicious,” he mumbled, and tossed the wooden bowl away as he noticed the stew pot was almost empty. He grabbed the hot kettle with bare hands and glanced at her briefly. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m not hungry,” Lucy repeated once again. Crunching her nose, Lucy turned away to avoid vomiting as the mage drank directly from the kettle. “You can have the rest.”

Natsu lowered the kettle to his lap. Lucy glimpsed at him, and the orange-brownish stains on his lips and chin made tremors of disgust run through her body.  “Thanks,” he said, then shoved his head back to the kettle.

Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, she nodded. She wasn’t even able to answer. Well, Lucy didn’t know how long he had been imprisoned, so she tried to understand that. Perhaps, when one didn’t have anything to eat for days, they’d enjoy any spoiled stew they’d just find. Lucy had been lucky enough to never truly know hunger in her life, as her parents’ table had always been full.

Shivering, she looked around the mine. The water rippled beneath an uncrossed bridge which led to the other half of the mine. Torchlight gleamed there in silence, making Lucy’s mind alert. Could there really have been only two bandits in this mine? Exhaustion made her body as heavy as iron, but restlessness forced her to move.

“I… I’m going to take a look around, see if there’s anything else to eat,” Lucy said as she stood up. The mage’s voice echoed in the kettle as he mumbled an answer, then Lucy left him with the disgusting stew.

Just nearby, two small axes lay on the ground, abandoned and lonely. As a test, she took one of them into her hands. The weight of the weapon surprised her. Rusty drops stained the steel, and Lucy knew it wasn’t rust. What kinds of horrible things had this axe done? How many lives had it taken? Holding such a vessel for death felt surreal.

Everything felt surreal.

Her face reflected from the stained steel. She flinched at the sight. Her skin had lost all colour and her hair was messy like a bird’s nest. Charcoal and ash painted marks on her cheeks and forehead, covering the bloody scratches. She had never seen herself in a shape like that. Her mother had always made sure that her daughter appeared washed and tidy, dressing her in beautiful dresses and braiding her hair in the mornings.

With the memory of her mother throwing her mind into another turmoil, Lucy looked away to forget her shabby appearance. She could get washed up when they’d reach a town, maybe tomorrow. As she lifted her gaze from the ground, she saw a bridge that led across the water into the darkness. Slowly, she began walking towards it.

When she reached the bridge, she set her foot on the old wood. It seemed strong enough to carry her to the other side, but she hesitated. Was it safe to explore the mine on her own? Was it utterly stupid and risky? Through the clouds in her mind, Lucy’s intuition pointed her towards the end of the bridge. She just had to go and check it, not knowing why. She couldn’t stay still either.

Quietly, she crossed the bridge as her heart began to race in her chest. Her fingers gripped around the weapon’s handle as she proceeded into the tunnel. The chambers there looked like prison cells, one of them significantly larger than the others. Barrels, chests, and weapon stands filled it, so it had to be a storage room. Perhaps there she could find the equipment she needed for this long journey.

Lucy peeked behind the corner, and the air got stuck in her throat as it tightened like a rope, her legs freezing in place.

There was a woman sitting on a chair in front of the storage chamber, holding the hilt of a bloodstained greatsword.

Lucy stepped back and pressed herself against the dusty wall. She held her breath as a curse escaped her lips, a regret of going here alone filling her heart. Just why didn’t she stay there with the mage? Lucy squeezed the axe in her hand, and then peeked at the bandit again.

Several scars ran over her face and her dark hair had been shaved from the sides. The tribal patterns painted on her scalp informed of her high rank, but her horned helmet rested on the backrest of the chair. The woman’s eyes were closed as she slept. How hadn’t she awakened to all the rumbling and fighting from the other chamber? Was she deaf? Though, when Lucy halted to listen, she could only hear the water rippling beneath them. Maybe the thick, earthy walls had blocked out the noise.

“Hey Lucy, where did you go?”

Except for that noise, the mage’s voice ringing clear in her ears – and the bandit’s, too.

Mumbling a silent curse, Lucy hid behind the wall again. She squeezed herself into the shadows as the bandit awakened.

“Who's there?” the woman wondered, alert and sharp as if she hadn't been sleeping at all. Lucy pressed herself against the stone, raising the axe in front of her face. The bandit's shadow moved on the edges of the tunnel and the greatsword clattered on the rocky floor as she lifted it up.

The bandit circled in front of her and Lucy pinched her eyes closed. Not knowing what to do, Lucy swung the axe forward with all of her strength. A putrid, wet thud sounded in the dusty air. Hot fluid splattered on her face. Her grip loosened around the handle and a body thumped to the ground.

Lucy screamed when she opened her eyes.

“Are you okay, Lucy?” Natsu asked as he arrived. “I heard a scream.” He lowered his gaze to the woman lying on the floor with an axe poking out from the middle of her forehead. “… Oh.”

Lucy lifted her hands to her face as a crimson pool spread beneath the body. The armoured chest rose no more, and Lucy’s legs went limp. She collapsed on her knees, holding back her ragged shrieks. Natsu turned his eyes from the macabre sight to Lucy, and lifted his brows in wonder.

“She’s… She’s dead,” Lucy sobbed through the tears. “Oh gods, I… I killed her. Oh no, no, gods no, I…”

Her stomach cramped and then she vomited on all fours, nothing but bile coming out from her empty stomach. She could never bring herself to kill anyone, never. It had to be a bad dream, there was no way it could be true. Soon she would wake up in the warmth of her own bed, glad it had been just a nightmare, and never wish for an adventure again.

“Hey, it’s alright. You'll get used to it, I swear,” the mage stated coldly, crouching by the corpse. Natsu took the keys from her belt, walked to the storage chamber's gate and tested them on the lock. Old metal creaked as it opened. “Do you wanna loot this room? Give you something else to think about.”

Lucy wiped stomach acid from her face and glared at him. Didn’t he truly feel anything when a stranger was killed? The horrendous guilt wrenched her heart apart, so how could he remain so damned cold and calm?

“I... I want to go home,” she sobbed. She moved to her knees, peeking at the dead body over her shoulder, and felt like throwing up again. That sight would haunt her forever, she knew.

“A dragon burned your home to the ground,” Natsu reminded and disappeared into the chamber. “I wouldn't go home if I were you.”

She shook her head. “But I... I k-killed her! I’ve... I’m a monster...”

“You think killing an outlaw who would have killed you makes you a monster?” he answered with a dry chuckle. “We aren't inside Helgen's walls anymore, girl. Welcome to the wilds.”

Lucy went silent and bit her lower lip, still tasting acid on her tongue. She shook her head, looking down in shame. The mage was right. If she hadn’t struck that axe to the bandit’s forehead, she would have been impaled by the greatsword herself. An instinct had driven her action, and thanks to it, she was still breathing, and the bandit was not.

Kill or be killed, they said.

Her tears ran out soon, but the trembling didn’t cease.

After she had collected herself, Lucy asked the mage to burn the bandit's corpse as well. As the evidence of the bloodshed turned into a pile of ashes, Lucy managed to shut it out and keep going on. While the bandit burned, Natsu checked the rest of the mine, and couldn’t find any more bandits. He was convinced they’d be safe from now on, but Lucy didn’t believe it so easily.

There wasn’t a single safe place in her world anymore.

She tried to focus on their upcoming journey to Winterhold, even though it seemed so far away and distant. In order to survive, Lucy needed equipment. The mage had explained what she needed and why, but her ears had filtered most of it away. She just stood in the corner of the storage chamber and blankly stared at the wall. The events of the terrible day were still replaying in her vision, but slowly they started to fade to black.

“I think this leather armour would suit you,” Natsu said while going through one of the chests, catching Lucy’s attention. “I know you'd like to wear mage's robes, but until you learn how to defend yourself, you should keep some armour on.”

The mage tossed a set of hard-boiled leather to Lucy, and she picked them up hesitantly. Despite being ugly, old and worn, it would serve her better than a ripped dress. “Try it on,” the mage insisted.

Lucy frowned, clutching her fingers into the leather. “I’d... I’d like some privacy when I change, please.”

Natsu gazed at her in confusion and then continued digging the bandit's stuff like he hadn't even heard. Lucy sighed and turned around. He hadn’t understood what she meant. She didn’t want to change clothes around a man she’d just met, but she had no other choices – she didn’t want to go out there alone either.

“No peeking, then,” she sighed quietly and slipped out from her dress. She loosened the strings on the leather armour and began to dress into it, wondering which part went where. She hadn't known armours were so complicated. The lack of proper lighting didn’t make it any easier.

“Look, an orcish dagger!” Natsu exclaimed, joy in his voice for the first time today. He turned and showed the blade to her, fully oblivious to her half-naked state. “Sharp as fuck, barely used –“

Lucy shrieked and covered herself with her arms. “I said no peeking!” she cried out, her cheeks flaring up bright red.

“Don't worry, this chest is the only one I'm interested in. There's even some gold –”

“Look away, idiot!”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” he assured and looked away. “But that armour is the wrong side out, by the way.”

Painfully aware of her burning red cheeks, Lucy turned the leather around and suddenly it got much easier to dress into. Natsu tossed her a pair of bracers and hide shoes as well. When she was ready, she looked like a bandit herself. Mother would have scolded her if she saw her now.

The leather didn't restrain her movements, but it felt stiff and hard like it hadn't been worn in years. Stretching a bit, she tested her new trajectories and walked to the bookshelf. Lucy had always loved reading, so maybe a good story would offer her some distraction. The outlaws weren’t friends of literature, but there were some dusty maps and journals. She took the first book into her hands and frowned. “The Lusty Argonian Maid? Gods,” she cringed and put the book back. That she didn’t want to read tonight.

Natsu closed the chest, having found everything he looked for. He had hauled a dagger, a new pair of boots and a small coin purse. Then he opened one of the barrels and a sweet scent of fresh apples puffed into the air. Despite being hungry, Lucy didn't even notice. A peculiar book on the shelf had caught her attention.

“There are some apples for you, if you’d like,” the mage announced and picked up one.

Ignoring him, Lucy trailed her fingers on the book's purple cover. A strange letter had been carved into the leather, and the book seemed to radiate some mysterious energy. It had to be a spell tome. Lucy had never held one in her hands. The mage peeked over her shoulder to see what she had found.

“Is this a real spellbook?” Lucy asked in astonishment, and Natsu nodded. Like a ray of light, the spellbook brought her a spark of joy she thought she’d lost forever. “Which school of magic does this belong to?”

Only magic could save her now.

“That's a conjuration book, I know that from the Daedric letter on the front. Let me see it,” Natsu answered. Lucy gave the book to him, and he browsed a few pages. “Oh, looks like it’s about conjuring familiars. You know what they are?”

Lucy’s eyes brightened. “Ghostly companions of the wizards. Wolves, owls, cats…” she said with a faint smile. “That book teaches how to summon them, right?”

Natsu nodded, but then gave her a quizzical stare. “Indeed it does. Have you… have you ever used any magic?”

His question put a sudden cold feeling into her chest. Somehow ashamed, she shook her head softly. The mage’s sigh smothered her hope.

“Well, Lucy, the thing is,” he started awkwardly. “Those wishing to enter the College must show some degree of skill with magic. If you have never cast a single spell, I’m afraid you won’t be allowed to join. I’m sorry.”

Lucy glanced at the book, tracing her thumbs over the Daedric letter. Those weren’t the words she had wanted to hear, but she had expected them. However, she couldn’t let go of her dreams so easily.

“If I could learn this spell, would I be allowed in?” she asked, her voice meek.

Natsu shrugged. “Maybe.”

Lucy remained silent while she gathered courage for a question. “Could you... Could you teach me?” she asked shyly. The mage looked at her like he hadn’t heard properly, but then he lifted his shoulders.

“I'm not good at teaching,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “But I can try.”

She nodded. Magic was surely hard to learn, but she knew she could if she’d just train hard enough. She’d pour all of her grief and shock into learning magic, and she wouldn’t run out of fuel anytime soon.

“How long does it take to travel to Winterhold?” she asked then, and went to pick a leather knapsack from the corner. She put the spellbook into it, and only then she noticed the apple in the mage’s hand. The apple was warm when she took it. He had been holding it for a while.

“I don't know. A few weeks or more by feet.”

Lucy blinked, narrowing her eyes as she gathered more apples from the barrel. “By feet? We found some gold. We could hire a carriage from Riverwood, and travel to –”

“We won’t,” Natsu said, suddenly becoming restless. “I… I get sick in a cart. Very sick. I can’t stand it. So we’ll walk.”

Lucy stared at him, her brow rising. “But they took you to Helgen in a cart and you were just fine.”

“Yeah, I vomited blood just before reaching the city gates,” he replied. His face became pale, and he quickly switched their subject of speech. “And speaking of going to Winterhold, I'd prefer the mountain route because there aren’t any guards, but with you, it might be safer to travel Whiterun's road instead, through the Valtheim Towers and there to Windhelm.”

“Safer by how?” she wondered.

“Are you up to a horde of frost trolls and ice wraiths yet?” Natsu asked, and Lucy got quiet. “Yeah, I think so, too. Riverwood doesn't have soldiers, so we'll pass through there tomorrow morning, avoid Whiterun and soon we'll be in the Old Holds, far from the Empire's reach.”

Lucy tried to imagine the route, visioning the map of Skyrim in her head, but she couldn’t keep it together. Though she had heard the names of the places before, she couldn’t recall where exactly they were. She trusted the mage could navigate them to their destination, no matter how long it would take, or how dangerous it would be. However, one thing didn’t add up.

“But why would’ve you gone through the Rift?” Lucy asked, suddenly remembering what Natsu had told her earlier. “Don't you have bounty there, for burning Shor's Stone?”

Natsu shrugged, and a strange grin appeared on his face. “The Imperials arrested me, not hold guards. As long as we don’t go to that village, we should be fine. I bet they still remember me.”

Lucy chuckled dryly. It would surely be the case, for the mage’s features were rather unique. Especially his hair. One wouldn’t so easily forget a man with pink hair.

Speaking of his hair, something behind his head caught Lucy’s attention. There was a hunting bow hanging on the wall with a quiver full of arrows. She admired its curved shape, feeling a resonance of some with her and the bow. Like it was asking for her to take it with her, to accompany their journey to her new life.

“Damn, I think my head is gonna fall off my shoulders on its own if I don't get some sleep,” Natsu said abruptly, and Lucy’s gaze shot from the bow to him. “I'm gonna go finish that stew and lay down. Okay?”

She nodded. The mage stuffed his things into a leather bag and headed back to the first chamber. Lucy kept eyeing the bow, imagining how it would feel in her hands, what it would feel like to draw an arrow and release it, and watch from the shadows as it hit the target's heart.

She answered the bow's call and grabbed it from the rack. It felt unquestionably better than an axe.

Against her expectations, she had fallen asleep with ease.

Perhaps it had been the campfire Natsu had rekindled for the night or just the mage’s presence, but the moment Lucy settled into a bandit’s former bedroll, she was out of it. Her dreams circled around the dragon and her burning home, but instead of fleeing, she picked up a bow and fought against the black, mighty beast.

In her dream, she refused to watch her life being burned to cinders. She stood her ground as the dragon landed in front of her, earth quaking beneath her feet. Lucy drew the bow and released it, and right before the arrow hit the dragon’s eye, someone dragged her out of the dream by fiercely shaking her from the shoulders.

“Riverwood is crowded with Imperial soldiers!”

Lucy’s eyes snapped open as the mage tore her out of the bedroll’s warmth. Already accelerated by her dream, her heart raced rapidly in her chest as she saw the panic spreading in Natsu’s eyes.

“What… what’s happening?” Lucy stuttered.

The mage pulled her up, picked up their bags and headed to the bridge. He glanced over his shoulder while Lucy stood next to the extinguished fire, frozen and frightened. Not knowing what to do, she at least lifted the hunting bow from the ground and curled her fingers tightly around its body.

“Come on, follow me,” he beckoned with haste. “It’s not safe here. We have to go, now!”

As Lucy’s legs refused to move, the mage ran back to her and grabbed her wrist. He tugged her arm, and she almost tackled her feet. Lucy forced herself to run as the mage hurried across the bridge, his grasp strong around her wrist – even though her body felt numb, she didn’t want to be dragged across the mine’s floor. If she did, the bow would surely break.

“While you were still sleeping, I sneaked out and checked how’s the situation in Riverwood. From the woods I could see that the place’s crowded by soldiers from Whiterun, and everything that passes through the village is tightly controlled. There’s no way we’ll pass through unnoticed,” Natsu explained as they ran through the mine, reaching the tunnel’s back end.

The light of the morning sun flooded in from the opening, and her eyes hurt from the brightness as they stepped into the forest.

“W-where will we go now?” Lucy asked, gazing around. They had arrived a bit further from the main entrance, and she could see to Riverwood from there. Natsu had been right. Lucy had never seen so many soldiers and guards in that peaceful village. 

Natsu pulled her arm, leading her in the opposite direction. “We’ll go through Helgen’s ruins and to the mountain route. I know you’re not ready for such a dangerous trip, but I’ll try to keep you safe.”

The uncertainty in his voice scared her.

Hiding behind the bushes and trees, they sneaked beside the crag, trying not to step on any branches on the ground. When they reached the mine’s main entrance, Natsu let go of Lucy’s hand, allowing her to walk on her own from there. She was scared, yes, but her legs carried now.

There was no danger for her in Riverwood, the soldiers weren’t her enemies, but she was still cautious. The mage was her chance to get to the College of Winterhold – if he’d get arrested, her dream would wither at the same.

She’d go through any detour as long as she’d make it to the College.

They made it through the forest and arrived at the road. Riverwood was far out of sight, and no soldiers patrolled the road from here. Lucy took support from her knees, inhaling fresh air into her lungs in an attempt to calm down. To her, it seemed they’d make it safely from there, but the mage didn’t look so relaxed yet. He glanced around nervously as if he sensed something in the woods.

Lucy raised her head and wiped the morning dew from her face. Her gaze followed the road to the uphills where Helgen’s ruins lied, black smoke still rising from within the once-unbreakable walls.

Then a pained howl echoed in the air, a quick warning before a pack of wolves emerged from the forest.

Gasping, Lucy grabbed her bow and picked an arrow from the quiver she had secured on her belt. With absolutely no idea how to use the weapon, her hands began to tremble as she tried to place the arrow on the string. The wolves were a distance away but would reach them in seconds if they’d notice them. They whimpered as if they were afraid, frightened by something even more terrifying.

“Wait,” Natsu told, holding her still. ”Someone's there.”

Lucy bit into her tongue. Someone?  Who in the world could put fear into wild beasts if not another beast?

Then a woman in plate steel armour jumped from the forest, putting a wolf on her sword as she landed on the road. Blood sprung from the poor animal as it died. The woman pulled her weapon from the flesh, swinging it at the remaining wolves, striking them to death with no mercy. Her bright red hair glowed in the sun, the same shade as the blood on her blade.

Lucy glanced at the mage beside her, his grip on her bicep tightening.

“Kynareth save me,” he whispered, petrified by the sight. “That's Erza fucking Scarlet."

A/N: the mine and the road where they meet Erza

Chapter Text

When the scarlet-haired woman in shining steel armour wiped her blade clean into the dead wolf’s fur, Natsu broke into cold sweat. His trembling fingers curled into fists as his terrified heart raced in an erratic rhythm. He took a muddling step back, and then another, as if his legs were moving on their own.

He knew that woman, and not on any good terms.

“What is it?” Lucy asked. She stared at him with a furrowed brow while she began to secure the hunting bow into her back with leather straps. “Where are you going?”

Natsu kept his eyes strictly on the warrior, fearing for his life that she'd notice him if he’d move too swiftly. “To Riverwood.”

“But they'll arrest you.”

“I'd rather be arrested by them than that beast,” Natsu hissed and turned around. Before he managed to take a first running step, Lucy grabbed the neckline of his robes, pulling him back. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

“You can’t just run away –”

“Natsu of Dragonbridge, is that really you?” a fierce voice said from the distance, making shivers run down Natsu’s spine. The warrior’s stare stung like ice on his skin. “You're still alive? Honestly, I didn't expect to see you again.”

“… fuck.”

His face lost all colour when Lucy spun him over. The warrior walked down the hill with the sword in her hand, and Natsu's legs went weak. With the ruins of Helgen smoking behind her, one could almost believe she had destroyed the town. She was a beast for a woman, more muscular than most men. He could still feel his bones breaking when met by her iron fist.

“What brings you here today, fire mage?” the woman asked. Natsu kept his head low to avoid her gaze. Lucy poked his side, urging him to answer.

“I… I was at Helgen…” he stuttered quietly, like a child being scolded by his mother. Words stuck in his throat as if he had swallowed thistles. He knew Erza wouldn’t care about that – she’d squeeze anything out of him, either information or guts, whatever she’d want.

“What were you doing at Helgen?”

Natsu bit his tongue, finally daring to look her in the eyes. Those brown eyes pierced through him as her sword had done to the wolves. There was no lying to her, or he’d be the next to fall on that sharpened steel. “Being executed,” he let out as a whisper.

The warrior’s lips bent into a mocking grin. “Why am I not surprised?” she scoffed, placing her fist on her hip. “What did you even do? Well, actually, I don’t care. Should I arrest you and take you to the Jarl?”

Natsu sunk his nails deeper into his palms. He tried to hold back the urge to hit her, knowing it would end badly, but damn, he wouldn’t let anyone take him into jail. Not after being freed from Imperial captivity just yesterday. However, fighting her with magic wasn’t an option. He couldn’t burn her to death like any other bandit and escape with it. The Companions had her back – if they’d find out what happened to her, they’d come at Natsu with the whole army.

There was still one thing he could use against her.

“If you do,” he started quietly, then raising his voice, “I swear on my dead mother that I'll let them know about your little connections with the Dark Brotherhood!”

Her dark eyes widened, then she looked around to make sure they were alone. Had she forgotten she’d slipped that secret back then? Natsu grinned, knowing he had succeeded in putting her into submission.

“Okay, okay. I won’t arrest you if you shut up about that,” she whispered, a hint of panic chiming in her voice.  

Suddenly, Lucy stepped in between them and waved her hands to break up their quarrel. “Shor’s bones, what’s going on?” she asked, then turned to look at the warrior. “Who are you?”

The scarlet-haired woman sheathed her blade before she introduced herself. “My name is Erza, and I fight for the Companions,” she said, placed her hand on her chest, and bowed to them.

After threatening to arrest him, Natsu found the gesture mocking instead of honouring. At least Lucy seemed impressed, the girl clasping her hands together in excitement. It surprised Natsu to see her so excited. She had been so wrecked earlier. Perhaps she still was, and that happiness was just a fake cover over her grief.

“Oh, the Companions!” Lucy gasped, eyes sparkling. “I've heard so many tales about your glorious battles!”

“And most of them are only tales. Mostly, we just drink mead in Jorrvaskar and brawl,” Erza said. “Who are you, young lady?”

Seeing the women engaging in a conversation, Natsu stepped aside as sneakily as he could. Being near the warrior made him restless, even when she had declined of arresting him. Companions were known as heroes of Skyrim, fighting for the weak and protecting the innocent, but Natsu had seen the different side of them. Lucy clearly hadn’t.

Natsu had learned a long time ago that reality wasn’t anything like the stories told. Stories don’t make you bleed, he thought. When you’ve lived protected behind strong stone walls, all stories do is make you want to be a part of them.

“My name is Lucy,” she started, then abruptly silenced. “I am… no, I was a merchant. In Helgen. Before… Before the dragon attacked, and… destroyed everything. Have you heard of it yet?”

“Unfortunately I have. You were there when it happened?” Erza asked. Lucy nodded as an answer. “You’re the first survivors I’ve heard about. I’m on my way to investigate the ruins. Sooner or later, the Thalmor are bound to check the scene, and I’d rather be done with that before they arrive. Would you mind telling me more about the dragon? The reports of eyewitnesses would be crucial for my work.”

Lucy’s shoulders tensed for a moment. She glanced at the mage, but decided to answer before he’d say his opinion. “Of… of course, if it would help, I’d –”

“We are a bit busy right now,” Natsu interrupted, glaring back at Lucy. What was the Companion even doing with some dragon investigation? That seemed suspicious to Natsu. “We’re heading to Winterhold, so we should get going already. Right, Lucy?”

“Winterhold?” Erza wondered, gesturing towards Riverwood. “It’s the other way around.”

“We’re taking the mountain route.”

“But why? The way is dangerous,” the warrior said and looked at Lucy. “Frost trolls, ice wraths, bandits… Why would you take her on such a journey? You can barely take care of yourself.”

“None of your business,” Natsu scoffed. “I’m a lot stronger than what I was two years ago. I was just a boy then.”

“And you still are. As stubborn as ever. Anyway, I’m ready to put our old quarrel aside. If you need help on your trip, I’ll let you know that I’m on my way to Kynesgrove. I’ll be going through the mountains as well. We could –”

Natsu crossed his arms on his chest, scoffing, “We won’t travel together.”

“For your friend’s sake. If I were you, I’d swallow my pride and come with me. There have been many bear attacks lately in the area.”

Natsu knew she didn’t want to help them. She just wanted information, and now that he thought about it, letting her know what he remembered might have been a mistake. What if Erza wanted to silence him for what he knew? Travelling with her would be a suicide.

“Natsu, I think we should accept her help,” Lucy said. She tried to get eye contact with him, but he kept his stare locked on the scarlet-haired warrior. Noticing he wouldn’t budge, she turned to Erza again. “I can tell you everything I remember from the dragon attack if you’d help us.”

Natsu let out a frustrated sigh, shielding his eyes with his palm.

Erza nodded. “Every bit of knowledge will be valuable for me. In return, I can escort you through the mountains and teach you to defend yourself. No offence, but you don’t look too skilled with that bow.”

“That would be amazing!” Lucy almost exclaimed. “I’ve never shot with a bow before, but I’d love to learn from a Companion.”

As Lucy’s lips twitched into a smile, Natsu knew there was no way to change her mind now. He sighed and dragged his fingers down his face. As if the morning hadn’t been rough enough already. First, he had woken up to find Riverwood crowded, and then this shit had to happen. There were too many changes to his plan for his mind to follow. Too many inconveniences.

“Then it’s settled,” Erza announced, sounding satisfied. “Are you coming or not, fire wizard? I’ll check Helgen’s ruins first, but then we can get going. Let’s just hope that the dragon won’t return.”

He didn’t want to, but what choice did he have? He had promised to take Lucy to Winterhold, and if he intended to keep that promise, he had to stay with her.

“Fine,” Natsu sighed, fighting back a pout. Perhaps it would be safer that way, but Natsu wouldn’t trust the warrior right ahead. Not unless he’d be sure Erza wouldn’t slaughter him in his sleep.

Broken bones had an excellent memory.

The town was still smouldering when they walked through the open gates, and the air smelled of smoke and burned flesh.

Natsu didn’t exactly want to be there. The road to the mountains went through the city, but why stay there any longer than necessary? Worry gnawed his stomach as he thought about Lucy. It must be so hard for her to return to her old hometown, but she hid it so spectacularly well it was almost concerning. Perhaps it was the company of the Companion that caused her to mask her sorrow, perhaps she had gone numb to it already. Natsu wished he could, too.

Keeping a proper distance to them, Natsu circled the edges of the city, not knowing what to do. He kept glancing at the mountains ahead of them as he restlessly waited for the women to be done with that gods-forsaken investigation of the ashes. To him, there was nothing worth investigating. A dragon had been there. That was all.

All that mattered to him was that this was the place where his best friend had died.

Natsu slid his hands into the pockets of his robes and kicked a stone. It rolled into gleaming cinders, casting a spark. It wasn't easy for him to be there either, where a long road had ended and another had begun. The plaza was right behind the corner with the damned block which had claimed Igneel's life, and ended a part of his.

Natsu sat down on a fallen roof, resting his chin to his hands. His eyes wandered to the plaza again and again, no matter how he tried to focus on something else. He glanced at Lucy, who examined the size of a dragon's footprint, then at Erza. Suddenly, he just shuddered. As always, a feminine beauty failed to distract him, leaving there was no other choice than to answer the block's call. As if Igneel wanted him to say goodbye.

Natsu jumped down from the charred logs and slowly walked through the ruins, leaving his footprints on the ashes.

The cold autumn wind played with the mage's pink hair and swayed his robes as he stood alone in the middle of the empty square. An executioner's axe lay on the ground next to the block, glimmering in the midday sun. His chest tightened as he arrived at the block and saw his reflection on the weapon's surface. It had been so close to his neck that he could almost feel the pain of it severing his head.

Natsu raised his eyes from the axe and saw a headless body dragged into the shade of a watchtower. The sight tore his heart apart. The College robes were barely recognizable, but the corpse itself hadn’t burned so well. Soon the crows would feast on the remains – Igneel deserved better than to be stripped from all dignity and left to rot. The Dunmer cremated their dead, so leaving his corpse like this would equal spitting in the face of Azura.

Natsu gazed around, trying to find the missing part of his friend. In the furthest corner of the plaza, there was a ball, the size of a head.

Only the elven ears confirmed that the head had belonged to Igneel. The familiar face and auburn hair were gone. With tears welling up in his eyes, his guts wrenching, Natsu picked the head up and carried it to the body – he didn’t want to do this, his mind was spinning from the absurd brutality, but it was his responsibility. Gently, he placed it back on Igneel's shoulders, a sob shredding its way out of his throat, grief so sharp his whole body stung.

“Azura's wisdom to you, my friend,” he whispered and touched the dead man’s forehead. Natsu summoned a spark that set the corpse on fire. He intensified the flames until the pyre roared skywards, cremating the remains of Igneel. Though they weren't related by blood, Natsu had always looked up to him as an older brother, as a replacement for the one he had lost.

As the smoke went up, Natsu turned around and picked up the bloody axe. The steel felt heavy in his hands, unfamiliar as he was to weapons forged from metal instead of magic. Ignoring that, he struck it to the wooden block with all of his force. Grunting, he pulled it back and swung it again, and again, and again, until nothing but smithereens remained of the wood.

He needed something to pour his anger into, and the block happened to be the closest target. Yesterday he had been just playing with the thought of killing the Imperials, and now it began to grow in him. Killing them all wouldn’t bring Igneel back, but he was damn sure he would enjoy it.

He stopped as he felt eyes on him. Natsu lifted his head and met the blonde girl's wondering gaze. He tossed the axe to the ground, waiting for Lucy to ask ‘what in the Oblivion are you doing’, but she didn't.

Maybe she understood.

When they passed through the burning ruins, Lucy’s mind clouded in fog.

If her memories of yesterday were already scarce, now everything seemed to fade to black. The streets and buildings she had known by heart were now nothing more than mere ghosts. She couldn’t recall who had lived where, or where the inn or the alchemy shop had been. It was all just the same, smouldering ruin, something she couldn’t recognise.

She had tried to answer Erza’s questions, but her words had died on her tongue. She hadn’t been even able to recall how large the dragon had been. Had it been the size of a mammoth or bigger? Lucy wasn’t sure. The footprints it had left on the ashes let Erza estimate the size, but made Lucy feel bad for not being able to remember. Damn it, she’d been lucky enough to encounter a Companion who’d teach her how to shoot with a bow, who’d accompany them through this dangerous trip, and she couldn’t even help her in return. The joy she had felt earlier began to wither.

Erza had noticed her growing discomfort and told her she could tell more later once her mind had settled down a bit. Lucy had agreed, and so she roamed the ruins on her own while Erza took samples of the ashes into small glass bottles.

When Lucy reached her home, she halted.

The roof had fallen in and the walls had collapsed, letting her see indoors where everything had burned. The counter, the shelves, the stairs leading to their living quarters – everything was gone. Breathing became difficult, but if it was for the smoke or the grief, Lucy couldn’t tell.

She had been standing on the porch with her parents when the dragon attacked, and now nothing was left of that porch. The wall had crumbled on her, sheltering her from the dragon’s fire, but trapping her at the same. How did the mage even manage to save her from there? Or even notice she was in there?

Seeing how close to death she had been made her blood run cold. If she had been standing closer to her mother, she would’ve shared her fate. Lucy hadn’t believed in fate until now, but a surviving that sheer couldn’t be just a coincidence.

She let out a long sigh. Tears tried to well up in her eyes again, but she didn’t let them fall. Her parents had become ashes, and that, strangely, brought her comfort. There was no evidence of their deaths, no bodies to weep on, only ash. She could almost hope that her parents had just disappeared somewhere across the stars. It was all different for the mage. For him, there had been evidence, and very little hope.

“So, you worked in this store?”

Lucy flinched as the mage spoke behind her. She hadn’t heard him coming. Lucy turned at him, glad to see he had recovered from his tantrum. Feeling a lump forming in her throat, she nodded.

“My family had owned it for generations. It would’ve passed down to me because I didn’t have any siblings,” she explained, causing the mage to cast her a long, studying gaze.

“Let me guess, you've wanted to leave this city for years and join the College, but your parents didn't let you?”

Lucy looked down and sighed. “Exactly. And I feel horrible that my prayers came true this way.”

Natsu was silent for a while. He walked next to her, appearing to be deep in thought as he stared into the ruins. But what he was thinking, Lucy couldn’t tell.

“My dad was so furious when I wanted to go to the College,” Natsu said then to break the silence. He hesitated for a while as if considering if he should tell more or keep quiet, but then he spoke again. “My older brother left for the College when I was a kid. He sent us letters every month for five years, but they suddenly stopped. There wasn't a word from him in a year, and the worry killed my mom. For her sake, I wanted to go find out what happened to my brother. Dad wouldn't let me, but I left anyway. I was about thirteen back then.”

Lucy kept her eyes on the ruins. It surprised her to hear him opening up, but perhaps he found it fitting to tell his own story, perhaps he sought to distract her from all of this.

“He probably didn't want to lose you too,” Lucy answered and finally dared to look at him. He’d been so young when he had left, all alone in the ruthless world. Suddenly, his formerly cold reactions to the deaths in Embershard didn’t seem so strange. “Did you find your brother?”

The mage shook his head, something in his features growing gloomier. “He had been missing for a year when I went to the College. And he's still missing.”

“Maybe you'll find him someday.”

“I don't want to,” he said sharply. “I have other things to do. Like avenging the death of a man who was more a brother to me than my own flesh and blood ever was.”

“By destroying the execution block?”

“Gotta start somewhere.”

Seeking vengeance was a part of grieving, but Lucy didn't have that. She couldn't even hope to avenge the death of her parents – killing a dragon was a completely ruled-out option. Focusing on building a new life was the only thing she could do now. Vengeance wouldn't bring back the dead, but Lucy didn't want to say that to the mage. He'd learn it by himself over time. It wasn't up to her to teach him.

“Where are you from, Natsu?” Lucy asked, trying to change the subject. “Is your father still alive?”

“From a small farmhouse near Dragonbridge, where my dad still lives with his dogs unless he has finally died of rockjoint,” he answered. “But the College is my home now, and the mages are my family. As it will be yours.”

Lucy smiled shyly and looked up to the sky. It was noon, but the smoke and dying flames hid away the sun, making it appear like a copper disk behind the dark-grey veil. For a moment it felt like she’d never feel sunshine on her face again. Erza’s voice snapped her out of the impending despair.

“It's time to go now,” Erza said from a distance. “We should check the city keep before we leave. You need fur cloaks if you want to survive through the mountains.”

Natsu gazed at the warrior with fierce repulsion and fear in his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what happened between you two?” Lucy whispered to him as Erza left for the fortress. “I'd like to hear that story.”

“You don't.”

“Why? She's so friendly and warm.”

“Ask that from my poor broken rib bones,” Natsu scoffed. “They still hurt when I see her.”

Lucy chuckled. It was getting even more interesting. “She broke your heart?”

His eyes widened and disgust twisted his face. “No, no. Goodness, no! Only my bones.”

Lucy’s gaze went from his head to toes, studying his slim build. As a Breton, he was rather slender for a man. Comparing his size to Erza’s, who was a sturdy Nord warrior, Lucy somewhat figured out what had happened between them. Maybe they had clashed in the past. And judging from the mage’s whining, he had lost.

“But what was that talk about the Dark Brotherhood?” Lucy asked with a quiet voice. She didn’t know much about the guild of assassins, except that they weren’t up to any good.

“Well, you didn't hear this from me,” Natsu started and shrugged. “She’s in bed with a man from the Brotherhood.”

“Really? She told you that?”

Lucy couldn’t believe what she had heard, and Natsu didn’t have time to answer.

“Are you coming or not?” the warrior hollered at the keep's door. Without continuing the conversation any further, they followed her.

Some parts of the keep had miraculously survived the attack. From the city guard's quarters, they found everything they needed to equip them for the journey. Lucy gathered every arrow she could carry. She found a fitting fur cloak and a bedroll for herself – Erza had promised there was enough room for three people in her tent. However, Lucy presumed Natsu would rather sleep in the cold outside than near that beast, as the mage called her.

The day was still bright and young when they headed to the east. Sunlight filtered through mighty pines and ancient spruces framing the road of cobbled stone, which led up to the mountain.

A taunting feeling of unsafety flooded to Lucy’s chest when Helgen was left behind. When she had been a child playing in the forest with her friends, she had never lost sight of the city walls. Father told her that a group of hagravens lived at Orphan Rock and hunted the children who wandered too far from home. She had believed that, but now she knew there were worse things in the world than hagravens.

“So, you have ever used a bow before?” Erza asked her suddenly, pulling her out of the childhood memory.

“Never.”

“My shield-sister Aela is an excellent huntress,” she said. “She always says that composure is the key to a successful archer. If you can remain calm, even in the midst of chaos, your arrow will most likely find its target. That's where you should start.”

Lucy knew she had much to learn. Back in the mine, she had panicked and survived by pure luck. With a bow, there was no room for panic. Arrows wouldn't fly from trembling hands. It could take long before she’d learn to cast any spells, but at least the bow was real, already there for her to wield.

“Should I try now?” Lucy asked.

“Why not. The road is empty and calm. It will be harder to train up in the mountains. The cold will make you shaky. Take the bow, and I'll show you the basics.”

Lucy released the bow from the straps on her back and pulled an arrow from the quiver. The iron arrow felt so fragile in her hands, and she wondered how that would ever kill anything.

“Are we really stopping now?” Natsu sighed loudly, having walked far ahead of them. He clearly wasn’t up to chatting with them along the way. “I'm going to be bored to death.”

“At least your death sentence would take care of itself, saving the headman from the trouble,” Erza replied. “It might even be less painful that way.”

“But too damn slow.”

“We'll take a few shots and then we'll carry on,” Lucy said. “You do whatever you want while I train a bit.”

Natsu rolled his eyes, then suddenly summoned a flame atronach. A flaming, floating creature with a feminine figure evoked so much envy in Lucy. ‘If I could do that too…’ she thought. Then Natsu threw a firebolt at it, engaging the daedra into a playful fight.

“What are you doing that for?” Lucy cried out, all awe disappearing from her.

“I'm training too,” the mage said as he dodged the atronach's fireball.

Erza sighed. “He hasn't changed at all,” she whispered to Lucy before shouting back at the mage. “Hey, don't set the entire forest on fire, alright?”

Natsu didn't seem to hear as he continued the fight with the atronach. Trying to ignore that, Lucy placed the arrow's nock on the string and upon Erza's approval, she began to pull.

The Imperial archers made it look so easy. She had to use all her strength to draw the string until it touched her cheek. She couldn't keep the string fully pulled back for more than a second, and then her fingers slipped and the arrow fell weakly to the ground. The string slapped her arm, and it hurt, even though the leather bracers.

“First, you have to get your stance right,” Erza helped, demonstrating the correct posture with her feet. “Remember to keep it consistent. Use the same stance every time. It's the foundation of your shot.”

Lucy picked up the fallen arrow, fixed her posture, and placed her feet as the Companion guided.

“Just how can you do this in the middle of a battle?” Lucy sighed.

“We've trained for years. You've trained for five minutes. Remember that. Now, nock another arrow and try again. Keep your anchor point the same every time as well. Your chin, cheek, corner of your mouth, whatever feels the best, but always keep it the same.”

Lucy nodded, placed the arrow on the string and pulled it towards her jaw. The weight of the string didn't take her by the surprise this time, but it tired her arm all the same. The moment the nock touched her skin, she released her hold.

And as Natsu dodged the arrow and gave her an annoyed look, Lucy realized she had forgotten to aim.

“Damn it,” she cursed silently.

“It's okay. Keep your eyes on the target next time. A few more shots and then we'll carry on before that idiot sets something on fire.”

Lucy nodded. However, a question was burning her mind, curiosity itching like a bug bite.

“How did you two meet? He won't tell me.”

Erza looked at the mage for a moment. “It was two years ago. He had been causing some trouble for someone, and my job was to rough him up to remind him how to behave. That's what the Companions do these days, beat people up when people don't bother to do it themselves.”

“And he lost that fight?” Lucy asked. She barely heard anything from the explosions of Natsu's firebolts.

“Look at him. He's slight of build, not exactly made for a physical brawl. I found him in an inn at Windhelm, piss-drunk, and told him I'd come to teach him a lesson. He was too drunk to fight properly, so he challenged me to another brawl when he'd sobered up, for a hundred gold. I admitted, for a true Nord never misses a chance to test her worth. I spent the night in the inn drinking with him, and we brawled the next day. He was left with broken bones and a hundred gold lighter pockets.”

The mage rolled on the ground as the atronach's fireball hit him and the fire caught his robes. Lucy couldn't help but laugh a bit. It felt good, like honey on the wound of grief.

“That's how an old Nord wisdom goes,” Lucy chuckled. “You don't know a woman 'til you've had a strong drink and a fistfight with her.”

“That's true. He was a chatty one that night. He told me all about his adventures and the crazy things he had done. It didn't surprise me that someone hired muscle to beat him up.”

Judging from what Natsu had told her, Erza had probably told him a thing or two about herself as well. Lucy notched another arrow and drew back, keeping her eye precisely on the tree. When she was about to release, she heard a low, loud growl. She flinched, loosening her hold as a full-grown black bear stood upright behind the bushes.

“Sorry!” the fire wizard shouted. “I pissed off a bear!”

A/N: the ruins of Helgen and the beginning of the mountain road

Chapter Text

Everything her father had taught about bear encounters fled Lucy’s mind the very moment she locked eyes with the wild beast.

The bear popped its jaws and swatted the ground with its huge paw. A loud, low growl sounded from the bear’s throat, and instinctively, Lucy hid behind the armoured woman. Erza was a Companion, after all, and possibly dealt with bears all the time. She held her breath and stayed still as the bear's gaze moved from her to the fire wizard, the origin of its annoyance. The bear's fur smoked where the firebolt had caught it.

Erza spread her arms as the bear lunged toward Natsu. The mage stumbled on his feet and fell to the ground. Suddenly, the bear stopped its charge, halting at a small distance away. Lucy wondered why. It seemed enraged as it roared, but like all animals, it feared fire. The beast studied the mage cautiously as if trying to decide if fighting him would be worth the struggle. The mage rolled on his stomach, covering his neck with his hands as the bear charged at him again.

“Stop!” Lucy shouted at the bear, her heart jumping to her throat. She didn't know where the courage came from. The bear turned towards her again. Natsu's flame atronach expired and disappeared to the wind, leaving only a trail of ashes behind.

“Idiot! You're supposed to play dead!” the mage hissed from the ground. “So play dead and it will leave!”

That was what her father had taught, she recalled now. But if she'd play dead now, she wouldn't need to play long. The bear was furious. Too furious to let them be. Running away would be futile, for it would catch them in a blink of an eye, then tear them apart limb from limb.

Lucy shivered in fear and refusal. The thrill she had looked for had been looking for her as well… but the adventure had just begun, though in horror and blood, and she wouldn’t let it end so soon. Lucy stamped her feet as she stepped forward, despite Erza trying to hold her back.

Suddenly, she remembered what her mother once told her. Father had discarded it as foolhardy, but it had saved mother's life. The time before Lucy was even born, her mother had encountered a bear while picking mushrooms. As a fierce Nord woman she was, she shouted at the bear, making it retreat to the woods with her mere voice.

Lucy took a deep breath and stared the bear into the eyes, swinging the bows and arrows in her hands. “Leave him alone!” she shouted as loud as she could. “Go away!”

Erza drew her sword and joined her battlecry. “Don't dare to come closer!”

The bear lost interest in the mage and stared at the women instead. Natsu lifted his head from the ground, dumbfounded and confused. Erza swung her steel in the air as a response to the bear showing its fangs.

“That's close enough!” Lucy shouted as the animal stepped closer. It stopped, murmuring and putting back its ears. “I'm warning you, back off! BACK OFF!”

The magnitude of her own voice frightened her. She had been taught to be nice and quiet, not screaming like a feral beast, but now the bear backed off upon her command. It lumped back to the forest, peeking over its shoulders a couple of times, but it truly left.

Lucy's heart pounded so hard her ribs hurt and air ran thin in her windpipe. She couldn't believe the beast was gone – the bear had feared her more than she had feared it. When the bear was out of sight, Erza marched to the fire mage and lifted him from the neckline of his robes.

“IDIOT!” Erza shouted at him, even louder than Lucy had shouted at the bear. She punched him straight to the cheek with her armoured hand. A loud smack echoed in the air. “I'll gut you like a horker if you don't keep your little flames to yourself from here on! Do I make myself clear?”

Natsu nodded, whimpering as Erza hit him again and dropped him to the ground. He rubbed his bleeding cheek and sullenly stared at Erza's back when she walked to Lucy.

“Are you okay?” the warrior asked her.

“I am,” Lucy answered, watching how the mage rose to his staggering feet. Natsu mumbled something about Nord women being worse than bears, but Lucy couldn’t hear the rest. She couldn't help but feel bad for him. It wasn't necessarily from Erza to hit him twice. One strike might have been enough to scold him.

“You are braver than you look, Lucy,” Erza said and pat her on the shoulder. “Have you ever considered joining the Companions? You'd make a decent shield-sister.”

Lucy smiled shortly, but didn’t say anything. Magic felt like her true calling, and it required bravery as well. She breathed out the fear as it began to dissolve in her body, still shivering from shock.

“Time to keep going, then,” the Companion ordered then. “It will get dark soon.”

The mountain road grew colder with each step. When the sun touched the furthest mountains on the horizon, it was time to set up a camp. Off the road and by the mountain's base, they found a good spot sheltered by large pines and a natural spring close by. Erza built the tent, Lucy picked some snowberries, and Natsu vanished into the woods.

They had come so high that a thin layer of snow covered the ground. Lucy looked at the steps which led from their campsite to the forest and wondered if the mage would return soon. He hadn't said a single word after the bear incident, and worry began to root in Lucy’s mind. Though she barely knew him yet, she sensed that everything wasn’t right.  

Lucy sat on a rock, eating the sour berries she had collected. A handful was all she could eat, then her appetite disappeared again. Some mountain flowers grew at her feet. She picked one up, turning it around with her fingers. It amazed her how they managed to flourish through the snow and endure the ruthless cold winds. The flower was the colour of Natsu's hair – pinkish, pale red. It was the shade of his hair which caught her attention when he arrived in the city in a cart, bound in chains.

She couldn’t recall seeing anyone with that hair colour before. Did it have something to do with flowers? Or alchemy? Was he blond by nature, but dyed his hair with some extract? Lucy chuckled by herself at the silly thought. From the very first sight, she had known he was one of a kind, and she hadn't been wrong. Playing fetch with a flame atronach and accidentally hitting a bear? That had to be only a beginning.

Lucy eyed at the steps again. The twilight had already fallen, and it didn’t seem like he was coming back. Her chest tightened, a different kind of fear suddenly churning inside of her. Erza probably wouldn't care less if he left. Maybe she'd be glad, but Lucy didn't want him to leave. He had promised to take her to the College of Winterhold, and he couldn’t just break that promise. She picked another flower and decided to go after the mage, even though her feet ached terribly from the long day's walk.

The steps led her deep into the snowy forest, over the ancient roots and stones, the trail eventually faded the further away she strayed. Only a small path was paved on the ground, and Lucy followed it, unsure if he had even walked on it. She didn’t dare to call for him, for the beasts and bandits would hear it too, but the fear within her kept growing with each step that did not lead her to him.

Eventually, when Lucy was sure she had lost him and herself in the woods, she saw a light among the trees. Smoke rose towards the starlit sky, and someone sat in front of the campfire, back turned towards Lucy as she arrived. She halted for a brief moment, afraid she had found a hunter or an outlaw, but then she recognized the familiar robes in the darkness. It was Natsu.

Lucy walked to him and stopped by the fire. “Hey! Why are you here alone?” she asked.

She flinched as the mage raised his head to meet her gaze. Trails of tears had washed the blood and dirt from his face. His large, emerald eyes were reddened, and he bit on his lip to stop them from quivering. Natsu sighed and hung his head down again, staring into the bright dancing flames.

He looked so broken.

Sudden guilt struck Lucy’s heart. There was no way he had meant to hit a bear, or cause it to attack them. Erza had been way too harsh on him, but what had Lucy done? Nothing. She’d just watched how the warrior smacked him, and didn’t even ask if he was okay. No wonder he had left them.

“Are you… are you alright?” Lucy asked, her voice warm and considerate.

The mage sniffled, wiped his eyes, and didn’t say anything.

Lucy sat next to him. She left the mountain flowers on the ground beside her feet to warm her freezing fingers in the campfire’s warmth. Her gaze lingered on his face as he stared into the flames. The lights fluttered on his closed eyes, on the bloody bruises on his both cheeks. They had to hurt. But when he turned his head to hide his tears, Lucy looked away.

“I'm not angry at you, if that’s what you fear,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “But why are you here alone?”

Natsu fell silent for a moment, and his silence fed the distress in Lucy’s heart. “This is my camp,” he finally said with a sigh.

“Your camp?” Lucy wondered and looked around, the anguish within her growing. A small fire wasn't enough to make a camp. The trees surrounded the area but gave no protection against the wind. “You'll freeze without proper shelter.”

Natsu scoffed. “And I'll be strangled in my sleep in your proper shelter.”

Lucy gave an inward smile. Now she understood what it was about. There wasn’t a grudge between her and the mage, but between him and the warrior. He had mentioned it briefly, but left the whole story untold. His side of it could be a lot different from Erza’s.

“Erza isn't angry at you either. She just… got scared. Bears are fearsome creatures, even for experienced warriors.

“She isn't scared of anything except running out of boys to kill with her bare hands.”

“Hey, she's not going to strangle you,” Lucy told again and sighed. “Come with me. Just… Just stop playing with those flames when we are around her, alright?”

Natsu glanced at her, the tears in his eyes dried up. There was reluctance in him, and he didn’t seem to be able to put it into words. He noticed the mountain flowers she had placed beside her, his brow furrowing as he fell into his thoughts, but then he looked back to the fire.  

“Isn’t it strange how fire, that gives life, takes it as well?” he muttered, bringing his hands closer to the flame. He snapped his fingers, cast a spark to the fire, and it roared skywards. Lucy flinched as the heat hit her skin. “Without fire, there would be no life. But as we’ve just seen, fire can also end it. There’s beauty in the disparity, isn’t there?” He chuckled dryly. “Were you wondering why I burnt Igneel’s body?”

Natsu had changed the subject so abruptly that Lucy didn’t know how to answer, but the reasons for his gloom lay behind this instead of what happened with Erza and the bear. She had seen how he had returned the severed head back to the body, seen the pyre rising to the sky, but she had been too distressed to think why he’d done so. Lucy nodded softly, letting him continue.

“When a Dunmer dies, his body is given to fire, so that he might return to the ash from whence he came. They believe that death is not the ending, but a beginning,” Natsu said and sighed. “Damn it, I wish I had listened better when he talked about it, but I never did. I never thought that he’d… die before me.”

As his voice died, a sharp pain pierced Lucy’s heart. If she could remember correctly, the fire mage had been going to the block before his friend, but something made them execute the Dunmer first. Tears welled up in Lucy’s eyes as she thought about how he must’ve felt to watch that. Damn it, she had seen it too. There had been so much blood. At least for her, there had been the solace of unconsciousness when her parents had died. First, they’d been alive, and in the blink of an eye, they weren’t.

Natsu pressed his face into his hands and sighed. “Gods be damned, I fucking miss him,” he muttered, voice cracking again. “Sorry, I…”

Lucy gave him a soft, sad smile. “I miss my parents, too,” she whispered. “But life has to carry on. Death is not the ending, but a beginning, as you said. For those who were left behind, as well.”

“I know, I know, life must go on, but I just…” he stuttered, laying his hands back on his lap. There was hesitance in his words, as if he didn’t quite want to speak to her, but didn’t have anyone else to talk with either. They were strangers to each other who just shared the same wound. “It’s so hard to see anything right now. It’s all just so… dark. I don’t know what to do now that he’s not here, where to go, or…”

Somehow, Lucy sensed that he left something unsaid. She looked at him in silence, wondered for a while if he’d continue, but he didn’t. He doesn’t know what to do now? Lucy’s heart sunk to the bottom of her body, growing cold as ice.

“What… What do you mean?” she asked silently. “We are supposed to go to the College together, right? Don’t you… Don’t you want to go back there?”

Natsu shook his head. “I’ve gotta go back. I must report Igneel’s death to the Arch-Mage, but it feels so wrong to return home alone.”

“You wouldn’t be alone,” Lucy said. “I’m here.”

A brief, sad smile flickered on his lips, then it was gone. “Lucy, I… I really don’t know if I’m good company for you,” he said, turning his eyes to her, and Lucy couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. The mage flinched at the sight. “I don’t mean to make you cry, but just look what happened today. That damn bear could have killed us all. I might’ve helped you in the beginning, but now you’re better off with Erza. I’ll go to Winterhold on my own, tell them that Igneel’s dead, then –“

“Please, don’t.”

Lucy stared at him, a fierce fire burning in her gaze. Her chin quivered, all hope within her suddenly extinguished, and the mage saw that. A hint of regret flashed on his face, forcing him to look away.

“I don’t care about what happened earlier. You saved me, Natsu. I wouldn’t be here without you, so don’t you even think you aren’t good company for me,” she spoke through the tears. “Even if I made it to the College with Erza, they wouldn’t let me in. She can’t teach me magic. Only you can.”

Nervously, Natsu rubbed his neck. “And as I said, I’m not good at teaching.”

“You could try. We haven’t even started yet,” Lucy answered. “Please, just come back to the camp. The night will be cold.”

“I know.”

As he kept nonchalantly staring into the flames, Lucy placed her hand on his, curling her fingers tight. Natsu turned to her, surprised by the touch, the seriousness in her being something he hadn’t expected – as if he had learned long ago that nothing mattered, and no one cared.

“I don’t want you to die here, too,” she pleaded. “Come back.”

As he looked into her eyes, she saw something in him changing. The grief was still there, so were the doubts, but he didn’t have the heart to leave her now. He grew difficult as her hand stayed on his, and so she pulled it back, the warmth still lingering on her skin. Natsu sighed, his shoulders slouched, as if defeated by her will.

“Well, I and Igneel were called Brothers of Disaster, so I guess you’ll know why soon enough,” Natsu chuckled dryly. “I don’t promise anything, but I can try teaching you some basics of spellcasting. However, if the Companion starts getting on my nerves, we’ll throw her off the mountain. Does that sound good?”

Lucy smirked, relieved that he’d changed his mind, but nervous about the tension between him and Erza. He’d meant it as a joke, yet there seemed to be a bit of truth in it.

“Not until I’ve learned some archery first,” Lucy answered.

“Then it’s a deal,” he said with a quick grin, then he got serious again. “And… sorry, for all of this. I guess melancholy is an easy trap to fall into, in times like these.”

 Lucy glanced into the fire. While they’d talked, it had started to die, and the woods surrounding them had darkened completely. “Yeah. I know.”

They sat there in silence until the fire went out, Lucy’s hands numb from the cold. Then, the mage rose up, and cast a gleaming ball of light to hover above him.

“Well, shall we head back?”   

By the time they made it back to the camp, Natsu was on the verge of fainting. He barely felt his legs, numbed by the cold. Lucy followed behind him, panting from exhaustion. They had, unfortunately, got lost in the woods as they strayed from the right path. After circling around the same trees and rocks for a frustrating while they eventually glimpsed a firelight from the distance, and finally found back to Erza.

The Companion had caught a rabbit while they were away. She gave them a questioning gaze when they arrived, but didn’t say anything as she continued skinning the rabbit. That was good. Lucy was nice for a Nord, surprisingly pleasant even, but Erza was a beast he’d rather not talk with – or even be in the presence of – in this state, vulnerable like creaked glass.

Hesitantly, Natsu glanced at the camp they had made. He knew he’d have a better chance for survival if he stayed with Lucy and Erza, but there was still this uncertainty within him, swirling like a portal to Oblivion where all the demons swarmed out. He wasn’t used to being in the company of women – especially Nord women – so he didn’t look forward to the upcoming journey. Especially now, when he just wanted to be alone and weep.

But maybe, maybe there’d be some light to be found. He’d seen it already, a spark dancing in Lucy’s eyes when she talked about magic. And when he had told her he’d leave, he’d seen the light die.

And he did not want to kill it.

They sat in front of the fire and let their breaths steady a bit. Still silent, Erza offered them a waterskin with fresh mountain water, and they both took a long drink. The skies were bright with stars, the light of two moons landing softly on the ground. And under that light, Lucy picked the spellbook from her knapsack, and began to read. Her tireless enthusiasm confused him, though it reminded him of the times when he had first started learning magic as a child. He, too, had stayed up all night practising firebolts and giving grey hairs to his mother.

“So these are the instructions for summoning familiars?” Lucy asked after browsing through the first pages. “I don't understand anything it says though...”

Natsu took the book from her and closed it, placing it on the ground. There was something that the spelltomes couldn’t teach, what was the foundation of all spellcasting: recognising the magic. He didn’t quite know how to explain it so someone who had never cast a single spell, but he knew for certain that the tome wouldn’t help her much.

“Before you try summoning any creatures, or well, doing any spells, you have to recognise the magicka in you. In other words, you have to feel the energy, and take control of it,” Natsu explained. “First, close your eyes and try to feel it. It flows through you, it’s in your blood, it’s all around you. Focus on it.”

Lucy did as he told. She crossed her legs, laid her hands on her knees, and let her eyes slip closed. Calmly, she breathed in, and concentrated hard. Suddenly, Natsu could feel the magicka around her resonating to her recognition. Natsu had been using magic for years now, so he couldn’t even pay attention to the surrounding energy threads on regular basis, in everyday situations. But now, they truly changed.

“I think I feel it,” Lucy said suddenly, her eyes wide open. “The magic.”

Natsu nodded. “Then gather the magicka to your fingertips. Imagine a little candleflame, and manifest it. Transfer the energy to your vision. Flame is the easiest form for magic to alter into, so you should be able to do it.”

Lucy closed her eyes again and concentrated for a while. The forest was eerily silent. Only the fire crackled in front of them, and soft night wind swayed the trees. For a moment, the world seemed to be at peace, with no dragons, no death, no screams. They were still echoing in Natsu’s head, no matter how he tried to forget them.

For Lucy’s first attempt to summon a spell, she was doing good. Magicka condensed on her palm just as it was meant to be, as if she had practised for a longer time. She’d mentioned that her grandmother or so had been a skilled conjurer, so the talent must run in her blood. Natsu’s big brother, ten years older than him, had also been a prodigy. Natsu had grown in his shadow, never been as good as him, but gladly he had outgrown that bitterness by now.

Then, the energy on Lucy’s hand began to simmer. Natsu’s gaze found the spark that left her fingertip, then a little flame ignited into the darkness. Lucy gasped in surprise, but the excitement killed her focus, and the flame disappeared.

“I did it!” she exclaimed. “I cast a tiny flame!”

Natsu smiled. “Then try making it bigger,” he said, spread his palm and set a ball of swirling energy on fire. The fireball reflected from Lucy’s eyes. “Like this.”

Suddenly, they both felt an intimidating stare landing on them. Erza glared at the fireball, then at Natsu, then at the fire again. Natsu resisted the urge to throw the spell at the warrior’s face, and let the spell expire. Disappointed, Lucy sighed as the smoke rose towards the night sky. Natsu gave the spellbook back to her.

“Aren't you two thinking about it?” the warrior asked, still staring at them both.

“Thinking about what?” Lucy answered.

“The dragons,” Erza said as she pierced the skinned rabbit with a stick and put it to cook on the campfire. “Those things were dead and gone for centuries. Where did that one suddenly come from?”

As Natsu’s thoughts drifted from fire to dragonfire, he realised he hadn’t thought too much about the dragon. Igneel’s death had seized his mind, making him unable to think about anything else. The dragon’s sudden appearance from its centuries-long slumber had saved his life, but what it could mean, he didn’t know.

Thousands of years ago, there had been dragons in Tamriel. Natsu’s older brother had told him about that, telling him stories of those ancient beasts before putting him to sleep. Now the legends had come to life, in this turning of an age.

“Their return has been foretold,” Erza continued as both of them remained silent. “The oldest scrolls tell that one day, the dragons will come back, and then the end times begin. Alduin, the World-Eater returns, and swallows the whole world, and only one could stop that.” Erza paused for a breath. “A Dragonborn.”

“Dragonborn?” Lucy wondered, glancing at the warrior. “Like from the children’s storybooks? Dragonslaying warriors from the old Nord legends? Like Talos?”

Natsu could barely understand what they were talking about. For the last years, he’d mostly heard Igneel talk about Azura, the Daedric Prince of dusk and dawn, an ancestor to all Dunmer, or so they believed. As Natsu held no faith in anything himself, and was perfectly ignorant of the Nordic pantheon, he fell from the conversation.

The warrior nodded. “In the old tales, only a Dragonborn could slay a dragon permanently. Some legends have foretold that when the dragons return, the Last Dragonborn would also appear. But the last ones of the dragonblood have died two thousand years ago, and so their line has ended. I’m afraid we don’t have much hope left, but we’ve got to fight to the bitter end, in this war that has barely begun.”

“No offence, Erza, but why's a Companion investigating a dragon attack anyway?” Natsu asked abruptly. “Don't you just beat people up and do animal exterminations?”

“Doesn't a dragon hunt count as animal extermination to you?” Erza answered with half of a grin. “Well, the court wizard in Whiterun has been researching into dragons for years now. I’ve been helping him from time to time, retrieving some artefacts from barrows, locating burial sites of the dragons, that kind of thing. And now, when the news of the first dragon attack in centuries arrived Whiterun, he sent me to investigate. That’s why I’m here.”

“Does it pay better than beating me up did?”

Erza smirked. “Multiple times better.”

Silence fell around the fire. Erza turned the cooking rabbit around, the pink flesh slowly turning into copper brown. Lucy browsed the pages of the spelltome, curious eyes wandering across the blocks of text and ink-drawn illustrations. Casting a tiny flame was simple compared to summoning familiars. Lucy was determined to be able to do it by the time they’d reach the College, but Natsu doubted she could, even with relentless training. One could always dry. Determination was a feature Natsu admired in people.

“But if a part of the prophecy has already been fulfilled, the other half is bound to be true, too. Maybe the Last Dragonborn will appear, after all,” Lucy broke the silence. Her finger marked the spot she’d paused reading at, then she turned towards Natsu with a strange smirk. “What if you are the Last Dragonborn, Natsu? It was your head on the block when the dragon appeared. I think it’s fitting.”

Natsu burst into a laugh. “Me? No way. The world would be as good as doomed already.”

“I agree,” Erza chuckled. “Anyway, the rabbit’s soon cooked. Are you hungry?”

Natsu shook his head. He had last eaten yesterday evening, and though he was getting hungry, resentment filled him as he thought about sharing a meal with Erza. He didn’t like to receive food from strangers, especially from those who had beaten him in the past. At least Lucy didn’t have the same issue, so she nodded faintly, then continued reading.

After a while, when the rabbit had cooked, Erza tore it into pieces and offered half of it to Lucy. While the Companion swallowed the meat in three or four mouthfuls, Lucy only nibbled it, chewing every bit for a long time.

“I’m going to sleep now,” Erza said after finishing her meal. “If you two want to stay up, please, do not set anything on fire or summon a horde of Daedra here.”

Lucy nodded as an answer and the warrior crawled into the tent without taking off her armour. How could anyone sleep all clad in steel plates? Perhaps it was a sign of mistrust. The thought of going to sleep in the same tent with Erza fucking Scarlet made him anxious already, but he knew he had no other choice if he didn’t want to freeze to death.

“Igneel used to conjure a tent, did you know that?” Natsu said suddenly. Lucy shook her head – of course she didn’t know, but he just wanted to talk to her about something insignificant. “Somehow, he managed to store a fur tent in Oblivion. Whenever we needed shelter, he just summoned the tent, and we were all good. No need to carry heavy equipment all around Skyrim. Though, we had our bags full of mead bottles instead.”

Lucy chuckled softly, then her smile became wistful. “That must have been fun,” she said. “Adventuring through the world with a good friend by your side.”

“It was,” Natsu answered. But sad it had to end this way, he thought. “I wonder what happened to the tent now. Do the Daedra use it now?”

“Can’t you ask one of your atronachs?”

“They don’t speak, unfortunately,” Natsu chuckled, letting out a sigh. “Maybe it would be best to head to sleep soon. Aren’t you tired?”

Lucy turned another page. “Go ahead. I’ll stay up for a while and test some things out,” she said, turning her eyes to him, “if that’s okay.”

Natsu nodded, despite the thought of going to sleep with Erza before Lucy joined them scared him a little. However, the exhaustion had begun to take its toll on him. His eyes slipped closed on their own, his speech was growing slurred. If he’d stay up for a moment more, he’d fall asleep right there, and Lucy would have to drag him into the tent.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Natsu answered, and crouched by the tent’s flap door. “Goodnight, Lucy. Put the fire out when you’re done.”

Then he crawled in. The warrior slept on the other side of the tent, suddenly not looking so fierce and frightening, but Natsu still wondered if the innocent appearance was merely a deception. Would she strangle him the moment he’d close his eyes, or should he strangle her first? Natsu shook the thought off his head. Killing a sleeping person would be cowardly of him, and her as well.

Natsu spread his own bedroll as far away from Erza as he could, to the very end of the tent. Before he crawled into the warmth of the furs, he unsheathed the orcish dagger from his belt and grasped it tight around the handle. Then he lay down, the security of holding the blade finally letting him fall asleep.

In the middle of the night, something soft and small jumped in his chest. Nearly stabbing the thing, Natsu awakened with a startle but calmed down when he realised that it wasn’t Erza’s strangling hand, but a ghostly pup of a wolf, shining gentle blue light. It licked his wounded cheeks and barked quietly like a dog.

Lucy smiled at the tent's door. “I did it!” she whispered joyfully. “I conjured a wolf! I know it’s small, but it’s still a wolf!”

Natsu smiled. The familiar expired as he rubbed it behind its ears. Even if it had been just a pup and existed for a very short while, she had still managed to cast the spell. He didn’t know if anyone, even his brother, had been as gifted as her.

A/N: A wild bear appears...

Chapter Text

Lucy dreamt of the dragon again.

Like that night in Embershard mine, when she had crawled to her bedroll between the mage and the warrior, visions from Helgen flooded her mind when she closed her eyes. The dream was the same: black wings darkened the skies as dragonfire rained down, turning memories to ashes. Everything and everyone around her burned until she was all alone amidst the destruction, unburnt, unbroken, facing the enemy of mankind on her own with only the hunting bow as her weapon.

Earth quaked below her feet when the dragon landed in front of her, so close she could see her reflection in those age-old eyes, shimmering with an amber glow. Flames stroke between the lines of razor-sharp teeth as the dragon opened its mouth, ready to swallow her whole. She did not lose her stance, didn’t succumb to the fear – she draw an arrow, released, and watched it fly to the dragon’s throat.

But before she heard the dragon’s dying shrill, she woke up to her own screaming.

Sunlight filtered through the tent’s open door. Cold air flooded in, stinging her cheeks like needles. Lucy’s fingers curled tight on the edge of the bedroll as she struggled to catch her breath, her throat dry from the shrieking. Slowly, the dream vanished into nothingness, but the hollow feeling in her guts wouldn’t fade.

The wind howled outside the tent, swaying the snowy spruces and pines, but she heard no other sound. No song of the birds, no distant chatting, only perfect silence. She was alone. She crawled out from her warm bedroll and peeked into the cold outside, squinting her eyes to the bright light. Faint smoke rose from the dying campfire, skyward to where the sun had climbed above the trees. Where were Natsu and Erza? Had they carried on without her?

Lucy picked up some branches and put them to the embers, watched them smoulder without truly setting aflame. She sat down and wrapped tighter into the fur cloak, feeling no warmth. She hadn’t known how sturdy the wind was up in the mountains. It blew out every flame which sparked in the campfire, and Lucy wanted to cry. Shaking from frustration and fear, she looked around, trying to find a sign of her companions. The wind had wiped out their footprints as well.

Had they really just left?

‘Maybe they haven’t’ Lucy thought as she saw the mage’s backpack laying against the tent’s side. ‘They probably don’t care that much about me, but they wouldn’t leave left their belongings here. Maybe they’ll get back soon.’

Lucy leant her chin to her knees, weakly stirring the stick in the campfire. She tried to channel magicka down to the fire, set a flame to the wood, but she couldn’t sense the energy within her the same way she did last night. Had she exhausted all her magicka? Tiredness made her limbs heavy as iron, as if she hadn’t slept at all. She had been so happy about casting her first spell that she’d forgotten, not even realised, the consequences of the practice.

The tiny familiar had existed for only a short while, but somehow she had succeeded at binding the threads of magicka into an ethereal wolf. She had tried to summon it a few times, following the instructions of the spell tome, and after a few attempts, she had made it. A small smile appeared on her lips as she remembered the feeling, like a flash of light in the darkness. Maybe she would become a true mage. At least Natsu had been impressed by her, but also warned her about over-exhausting her magicka – and only now she understood what he had meant.

While she waited for the mage and the warrior to return, she nibbled some sour snowberries she had picked yesterday, and melancholy returned to her chest like clouds of cold mist rolling into a forest. Her mother had always made some oat porridge for breakfast, with butter and berries, with tea from honey and frost miriam. They used to eat together as a family before it was time to open the shop. Now, she felt so alone.

She glanced at the berries on her palm. Compared to her former meals, that was such a tiny amount of food, barely enough to keep her standing. Yet still, she hadn’t felt hunger since it all happened, as if a stone filled her stomach. Grimacing, she turned her hand around, and one by one the red berries rolled to the ground. As she watched them sink to the snow, she fell deep into her thoughts, got lost in the memories, and wasn’t brought back until she heard noise from the forest.

“That was my fox, you beast!” a familiar voice answered. Lucy gasped at the anger in that tone, lifting her gaze to the trees ahead. “I tracked that all morning!”

“Too late, too bad,” a woman answered, and then, Erza appeared from the snowy forest. She carried a dead fox in her hand, hanging it from the tail. “You want to brawl for it? The winner can keep the meat.”

There was no answer. Soon, Natsu followed after Erza’s trail, empty-handed with a sour expression on his face. Purple bruises adorned his cheeks, and his eyes were still a bit red and swollen. Lucy smiled at him, but he did not answer her smile. Sullenly, he sat down on the other side of the campfire and lit the branches up with a swift move of a hand.

“I had to freeze my ass off without making a single sound for hours, and you decided to steal my prey?” Natsu asked Erza as she began to skin the fox with her blade. “Couldn’t you kill some rabbits instead? I’m fucking starving.”

If Lucy recalled right, Natsu had refused to take the rabbit Erza had caught yesterday, even when she had offered it to him. He’d rather starve than swallow his pride, it seemed. A stubborn little mage – no wonder he was so scrawny.  

“Did you sleep well, Lucy?” Erza asked, ignoring Natsu’s complaining completely. “He told me you stayed up late and learned to conjure a familiar. Is that true?”

As Lucy tried to speak, no words came out of her mouth. She cleared her throat to gather her lost voice. “It is,” she whispered and coughed from the dryness. Natsu glanced at Lucy and gave her a sip from his waterskin. Lucy took it gladly. “I could’ve gone to bed a bit earlier, though… sorry I slept so long.”

“It’s okay. Sleeping helps you heal from what happened in Helgen. You’re still in shock, sweet girl,” the Companion told while skinning the fox with a small blade, amazingly fast. She separated the meat from bones and put the pieces on sticks to grill on the campfire. “While you slept, I went hunting with the mage. This fox might be our last meal before we reach the Rift. There’s not that much game in the mountain pass ahead of us, for the frost trolls eat everything there is to eat.”

Natsu stoked the fire with his magic, and so the pale meat began to gain a golden colour. Lucy brought her hands closer to the flame, felt its warmth on her skin, and the frost within her soul began to melt as well. She was glad they had come back, even if they’d just bicker about the damned fox. Her mind had dove into dark, cold waters when they’d been gone.

The silence lasted until the meat had almost cooked. Lucy scrunched her nose at the strange smell. “So, what’s our plan for today?” she asked then. “We’re going to a mountain pass?”

“Exactly. We leave after we’ve eaten, and we won’t rest until we are on the other side of the pass. So eat well. You too, Natsu,” Erza answered, took the grilled meat from the fire, and gave a smoking stick to the mage. He took it reluctantly.

“I don’t like fox meat –”

Erza gave him a stern stare. “You eat it, or I will force it down your throat,” she told. Then she took another stick and gave it to Lucy with a smile – and Lucy didn’t dare to tell her that she wasn’t hungry.

They ate quietly without complaints. The fox meat was tough, tasteless, and difficult to chew, but Lucy ate it nonetheless. Her jaws ached by the time she was done, the stone in her stomach feeling twice as heavy as before. When all of them had eaten their share, it was time to put out the camp.

Erza began to pack the tent, and Lucy headed to fill the waterskins from the spring among the woods. She followed the path she remembered threading yesterday, and soon she found the small natural pond. She kneeled by the water, collected icy cold water in a cup made from her palms, and splashed it on her face. She shrieked as the water stung her cheeks, but she did it again and again, until her reflection was clean from dirt and blood.

When she heard snow crunching behind her, she glanced over her shoulder. The mage walked between the trees, his hands tucked into the warmth of his cloak. The grim look on his face hadn’t gone anywhere.

“I can’t wait ’til we reach an inn,” Natsu said and crouched next to her. He gathered a handful of water, but warmed it with magic before washing the bruises on his cheeks. “I fucking reek. Can’t remember when I last bathed, but must’ve been before the Imperials captured me.”

In silence, Lucy took the waterskins and filled them in the pond. “Well, the closest inn must be in Ivarstead, right? I’d like to have a warm bath, too,” Lucy answered. When the skins were full, she glanced at her reflection again, grimacing at the locks in her fair hair. “Gods, I look terrible.”

Natsu glanced at her, his brow furrowing. He seemed to comment something, but then he swallowed his words. “Yeah, Ivarstead seems to be our next stop. With the gold we found from Embershard mine, we should be able to afford a brief stay in the inn,” he said then. “Once you get used to travelling, you learn to appreciate small things, like warm food and warm beds.”

Lucy nodded with a faint smile. “You’ve travelled a lot, I assume?”

“All the time,” Natsu answered and chuckled. “I and Igneel used to spend most summers adventuring around Skyrim, like now. We always returned to the College when it started to get too cold.”

“Oh. I’d love to hear about those adventures,” Lucy said, sparkles in her eyes. “Seems like you’ve got many stories to tell.”

“Most of them aren’t very good,” Natsu sighed, looking down to the water. “But well, if you want to hear something, I can tell you on the road. At least those when I wasn’t piss-drunk could be… shareable.”

Lucy laughed a bit. “I bet the piss-drunken stories are the funniest ones.”

“Definitely,” he answered, a small smile on his lips. “Anyway, we should probably head back before that beast of a woman starts to wonder where we went. But I… I wanted to ask if you’re alright. I heard you scream earlier when we were hunting that fox.”

Lucy’s smile died. She turned her eyes to him, surprised that he’d truly asked that.

“Yeah, I am. I just had a nightmare,” she said. “It’s… it’s been the same dream. About Helgen and the dragon. It keeps haunting me, that’s all.”

Natsu nodded softly, an understanding gaze in his eyes, and Lucy wondered if he shared the same nightmares as well. But before she could ask, the mage stood up, and beckoned her to follow him to the camp.

The day was still young when they set forth towards the mountain pass. The narrow passage went through the bedrock of Throat of the World, the tallest mountain on Tamriel, and was famous for claiming the lives of many unlucky travellers. However, it was the only way to get to the Rift, for in the south, Jerall Mountains lined the border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil.

As they walked, Natsu remained mostly silent. He kept his eyes on the sky. Though he had no nightmares of the dragon – or dreams, overall, for he had lost his ability to dream long ago – he was haunted by it as well. In Helgen, the dragon had appeared so suddenly, as if from nowhere, so why wouldn’t it happen again? Fear wasn’t a good place to live in, but there wasn’t much room for hope, in times like these.

The cold wind bit through the fur cloak as Natsu held tight to his hood, muttering curses under his breath. His fingers were freezing inside the moleskin gloves, and he had stopped feeling his toes a while ago. Natsu had never gotten used to the cold as Nords did. The summers in Skyrim were warm, but winters, these gods-forsaken winters froze his bones solid every year. It wasn’t even winter yet, but here in the mountains, it truly felt like it.

Lucy walked beside him, her teeth clattering quietly. She had commented on the beautiful landscapes, but mostly, she seemed too exhausted to speak. Natsu was fine with the silence, but as dark clouds began to fill the bright blue skies, he got restless. The path grew narrow, and steep rock walls began to frame the way ahead. They’d soon reach the mountain pass, but the abrupt change in the weather was a sinister sign. It would snow soon, and heavily.

“Doesn't the cold bother you?” Natsu asked. “I’m fucking freezing. I’d summon a flame cloak if that bastard wouldn’t beat me up for it.” He glanced at Erza, who walked ahead of them.

Lucy shrugged. The frigid air had painted her cheeks bright red, and a few of her blonde strands had caught frost in them. “It’s a bit chilly, indeed.”

Natsu chuckled by himself. A bit chilly? It’s cold as the ice wraith’s breath. “I’ve always believed that Nords don’t feel the cold at all. There’s a crazy Nord in the College named Gray, and he can go to a snowstorm naked. He even swims in the Sea of Ghosts during mid-winter. He creates a hole in the ice and all.”

Lucy turned her eyes to him, smiling slightly. “Really?” she wondered. “Well, that sounds a bit extreme, even to me. Why does he do it?”

“He says he does that to train his frost resistance, but I think he’s short of a few marbles,” Natsu answered, then paused as a furious whirlwind swept through the path, forcing them both to halt. The first snowflakes fell on Natsu’s pink hair. “Speaking of snowstorms, seems like there’s going to be one.”

“We’ll stay in a cave if a storm hits,” Erza shouted through the wind. “It’s too dangerous to continue in a blizzard. That’s the time when the frost trolls go for a hunt.”

Fucking great, Natsu thought. He hated caves. Not only that the outlaws loved to house in abandoned mines and natural caves, many disgusting creatures lived there as well. Above all, Natsu hated frostbite spiders the most. He wore a big scar on his side as a reminder of one encounter with a giant spider, when the hideous thing had suddenly descended from the cave’s ceiling and caught him between its poison fangs. Igneel had managed to kill the spider, but the poison had almost killed Natsu. He had been sick for a month afterwards.

The howling winds swept through the mountains as they carried on their journey, pushing slow against the veil of snow. The few snowflakes had quickly turned into an endless downpour, the frostfall so thick Natsu could barely see in front of him. He kept glancing to his side to make sure Lucy was still there and not lost in the snow.

“Well, Erza, do you know any good caves in this area?” Natsu asked with a sharp, sarcastic tone, shouting through the wind. “Because I’m certainly freezing off my fucking –“

Abruptly, a loud growl echoed from the mountain walls. Natsu halted and looked in every direction, but saw no source for the voice. Then he heard it again, louder than before. Lucy stepped closer to him as she heard it too.

“What was that?” she whispered, instinctively reaching for her bow and arrows. Fear spread in Natsu’s lungs like frost. I know you’re not ready for such a dangerous trip, but I’ll try to keep you safe, he had promised. Maybe the time had come to actually keep that promise.

Then, Erza pulled her sword out of the scabbard.

“Two frost trolls right ahead!” the Companion shouted, then disappeared into the blizzard. “We can’t escape them, so we have to fight! Natsu, you take the one on the left!”

Intuitively, Natsu put her hand in front of Lucy as the troll’s growls sounded again in front of her. She might’ve struck an axe to a drunk bandit’s skull, a lucky hit, but this was a battle she wasn’t ready to be in.

“You stay back, we will handle this,” Natsu told her and conjured a flame atronach. It appeared through the purple gate and threw a fireball towards the growling noise, showing Natsu where the enemy was. He cast the flame cloak spell, surrounding himself in an aura of fire. Lucy stepped away from him, following his command. Natsu nodded to her before running after his atronach.

Natsu formed the root of the flame spell in his palms when he saw the troll. It climbed on the mountain wall, grunting as its thick, shaggy white fur caught the atronach’s fire. It had been a long while since he had last seen a troll – he had forgotten how ugly they were. A third eye nestled in the middle of its forehead and its jaws were filled with jagged teeth, which would surely tear him apart in a second. The troll jumped down and knocked the flame atronach out of existence with its lengthy, muscular arms.

The mage swallowed his fear when the troll charged at him at full speed. Twice as tall as Natsu, the troll towered above him, seemingly invincible, but Natsu knew their weakness. Trolls were vulnerable to fire. Steel, speed, and aggression might work, but not as well as fire. Natsu put his hands together and poured flames directly into the troll’s face. The beast’s grunts changed into fearful whines. They were aware of their weakness as well.

And suddenly, an iron arrow pierced the air. It struck the troll’s arm, evoking the troll’s wrath even more. Natsu glanced over his shoulder. The silhouette of the Nord girl stood out through the veil of snow, and another arrow flew right past Natsu’s ear, straight to the beast’s chest. The troll roared and pulled the arrows from its flesh. The wounds closed in an instant.

“You regenerative bastard...” Natsu grunted and dodged the swing of the troll’s arm. Its razor-sharp nails grazed Natsu’s cloak, but the aura of fire damaged the troll in return. He leapt backwards as the beast chased him, pressing him closer to the rock wall with no escape. Natsu blasted flames against the troll, but it rushed through the fire with bloodlust gleaming in its three eyes.

Biting his lip, he felt the wall closing in. A few more meters and he’d be trapped. He changed his course to the back right, closer to Lucy. The troll’s breath became shallow as another arrow found its back. It must have hit the lung.  

I have to kill it now before it regenerates again, Natsu thought. He pulled the orcish dagger from his belt. As fast as he could, he circled behind the troll, seeing strange movement in the edge of his vision, but he was too agitated to pay attention. In a moment’s act of insane courage, he jumped into the troll’s back, clutching his fingers into the white fur.

Natsu shoved his dagger straight into the frost troll’s neck, severing its arteries. It fell on its stomach, howling as it died. Blood sprayed on Natsu’s face when he pulled the blade back from its flesh. He turned his head to check on Lucy. He heard her scream before his eyes caught the third troll, who grabbed her from behind.

“Lucy!”

Natsu’s shout was left to echo in the mountains as the troll lifted the wriggling, screaming girl on its shoulder and vanished into the snowstorm.

A/N: A wild troll appears...

Chapter Text

As Natsu stared at the vacant space on the mountain path where Lucy had just been, his heart skipped a beat, then another. Shock dispelled the aura of flame around him, letting the frostfall whip his face like a thousand tiny needles. Her distant screams got buried under the howling wind. As he stood there frozen, steaming hot blood flooded from the troll’s neck and soaked through his boots, but he couldn’t feel it.

I’ll try to keep you safe.

Steel clanked on steel when running steps approached him. Natsu turned his head towards the noise. His hollow gaze met Erza and her sword, adorned in dark crimson liquid that dripped from the blade.

“What happened?” the warrior questioned, wiping her sword to the dead troll’s fur. “Where’s Lucy?”

Natsu tried to answer, but no words slipped past the lump in his throat. His shivering fingers squeezed the dagger’s hilt as he peered down in shame, realising he was standing in a pool of blood. Droplets stained his robes, the stench of iron permeated the air and made him sick. With a hollow disgust churning in his guts, he stepped away from the blood, leaving red footprints on the freshly-fallen snow.

But I couldn’t keep you safe for a single day.

“Where’s Lucy!?”

Erza grabbed him from the brooch of his cloak and pulled him closer. Forcing him into eye contact, she shook him vigorously, demanding an answer. Natsu raised his hands to cover his face as the tears began to well up. Lucy had been right there, behind him, not that far away, and Natsu had truly thought she’d be safe.

“There… there was a third...” he stuttered quietly, “the third troll, and it… it got her...”

“A troll got her?” There was nothing but anxious urgency in Erza’s voice.

The mage nodded and held his breath. He expected her to throw her against the rocks, but instead, she put him back down gently. His legs almost gave up as his bloody boots touched the ground. The tension in his arms wore off and they fell lifelessly to his sides, for all his strength went on holding back the tears.

“It picked her up and ran downhill,” Natsu whispered, nearly sobbing. He lowered his gaze again. “I… I… I didn’t see it until it was too late. Now she’s…”

Natsu’s eyes caught something dashing at him, too fast for him to take cover. Then there was pain. Erza’s armoured palm slammed against his already-bruised cheek. Natsu’s head swung to the side from the force of her strike. He would’ve hit her back, but his arms remained limp and powerless, for he knew he deserved that. He had just one job, and he had failed miserably.

“Too late!?” Erza yelled. Natsu shuddered – even his dead mother hadn’t yelled at him so loudly. “It will be too late if you just stand there like a dead tree, you goddamn idiot! Come on and let’s go save her!”

Erza wasted no more time. She left Natsu alone as she rushed after the fading screams, disappearing into the blizzard. She ran past the backpack Lucy had dropped to the ground. The bag had opened in all the hustle, the spelltome had slipped out and the apples had rolled down the hill. The sight struck Natsu’s heart like a dagger made of frost. Lucy’s hopes for her future had lied in that simple book, and now it was there, abandoned, being buried under the snow.

Natsu took a deep, shaky breath. He placed the orcish blade back to the scabbard secured on his belt, and walked down the hill. He crouched by the spelltome, wiped the snow from its purple-dyed leather cover, felt the carved Daedric letter with his fingertips. Just last night, Lucy had summoned her first familiar, and only the gods knew where her path would lead if her talents wouldn’t be left to waste, be torn apart by an angry frost troll. She could achieve anything if just given a chance.

Just yesterday, Natsu had truly thought that she’d be better off without him. He’d just lead her into unnecessary trouble, and in his mind, this proved it. But she had pleaded him to stay. She had chosen this path, knowing the dangers that loomed ahead, and still, despite everything, wanted to keep chasing her dreams of magic. And Natsu just couldn’t let her walk to that path alone.

At that moment, determination pushed away the guilt in Natsu’s mind. Together with Erza, he would save Lucy. Once in the past, Natsu had been a novice as well, fully in someone else’s mercy. Without Igneel’s help, he wouldn’t have made it this far either – the Dunmer had saved him countless times, and now, it was time to carry that torch, carry that responsibility, and help others as he had been helped in the past.

The melted snow disguised the tear which ran down his face. He didn’t bother to wipe it. Natsu put the tome into the backpack, tossed it on his shoulder and hurried after the warrior.

When the beast smashed her on the cave’s stone floor, Lucy prayed she’d lose consciousness.

Gasping in ragged breaths, she rolled around and crawled backwards on the moist, cold ground. Tears of terror flooded down her cheeks and her throat stung from screaming, but no one seemed to have heard her. If the bear had been scared by her voice, this troll was merely annoyed by it. It stared at her with strange, feral amusement, holding its large paws on its ears.

Lucy didn’t know how far the troll had taken her. At some point, the snowfall had ceased as they entered the darkness of a cave. When she’d been carried through the narrow tunnels, her head had repeatedly hit the rock walls. Trembling, Lucy touched the sharp pain on her forehead. Blood stained her fingers, dripping down into her eyes, and her mind began to dim out. If she closed her eyes, would she ever open them again?

Behind the ten-foot tall troll, light entered the cavern through a crevice in the ceiling. The faint rays illuminated the hideously-ugly beast, three eyes staring right into Lucy. Clawing the wet ground with her nails, she crawled until her back hit the wall. Her bow was missing, and she couldn’t remember where she had lost it. It won’t matter anyway, she thought, for this thing is going to kill me soon anyway.

Strenght left Lucy’s limbs and she collapsed to the ground. She lay down on her side, face in the dirt as she tried to suffocate her sobs. Perhaps, if she played dead, the troll would leave her be. She was petrified in fear and closed her eyes as fierce steps closed in. The beast halted beside her, turned her around with its hand, but left when it noticed she was still breathing. Lucy bit her lower lip as tears poured through her closed eyes.

I should’ve gone to Riverwood, she thought, regrets swarming in her mind. I should’ve turned back, gone to the goddamn Trader and asked for work when I still had a chance, but now I’m going to die here, and no-one will ever find me.

When the steps went further, Lucy dared to look around again. She did not lift her head from the mud. The troll walked into the middle of the cavern, stopping where the ray of light hit a strange altar. Lucy focused her gaze on the altar again. It was, in fact, a statue – a horned man, holding a horned masque in its hand.

Then, the troll grunted and kneeled in front of the shrine. It lowered its head down, waving its hands as if worshipping the statue. Lucy furrowed her brows. Since when had trolls prayed to man-built shrines? Something was off here, so she observed in quiet submission. The troll’s low growls repeated in similar patterns, sounding a lot like chants in a ritual. Lucy’s chest spasmed in sudden anguish. Gods, will it sacrifice me to some troll-deity?    

The line of the growled chants came to an abrupt end. Silence fell into the cavern. Lucy’s heartbeat drummed in her ears, panicked, but her limbs remained frozen in fear. Suddenly, the troll roared. The screeching, deafening roar filled the chamber, reverberating from the stone walls as the beast flit into a berserk rage. It leapt to the air and clung to the statue’s neck. Lucy’s eyes widened at the sight. The troll slammed its enormous paws against the features carved in stone, again and again, and kept roaring.

Then, Lucy realised her only chance to escape was now.

Slowly, she turned her head in the opposite direction. In the darkness, there was the narrow tunnel she’d come from. If she’d follow that route, she’d make it out, back into the snowstorm, but anywhere was better than here. She could make it if she’d find Natsu and Erza – she held onto the hope that they had seen the troll capturing her, and that they’d be coming to help her. Energy began to flow through her veins, like bringing dead flesh back to life, she felt like she had to get up, she had to run, she had to live.

She wouldn’t die here, not yet, not today.

While the troll assaulted the shrine, Lucy pushed herself into a crouching position. She crawled forward in the darkness, inching closer to the tunnel, and when she was close enough, she bolted. Her boots slid on the slippery wet ground. As if skating on ice, she rushed for her escape, but when she made it to the passageway, she fell. She muttered a curse when the troll went silent somewhere behind her, and as fast as she could, she got up and continued running.

She fumbled forward in the dark passage, the troll’s roars echoing from the narrow walls. Her face hit the rocks ahead when the tunnel made a sudden turn, but she carried on, blood and tears mixing on her cheeks. Enraged steps followed her, closing in fast. A clash of despair and hope commenced within her rapidly-beating heart, a sudden realization that she wanted to live. She’d been drowning in the sea of grief, feeling like she’d die as well, but now, she knew that she wanted to live.

“Natsu! Erza! Help me, I’m here!” she shouted into the darkness, though she knew that no one would hear, except only if they’d found the cave and followed the beast, a small uncertain maybe. “Help me!”

And suddenly, she dashed against something soft.

She let out a whimper as arms wrapped around her, strong and secure. For a moment she thought she’d rammed into another troll, but this one was smaller and didn’t smell of rotten flesh. When she recognized the familiar, smoky scent, an enormous wave of relief washed over her.

They’d come after her.

Natsu muttered something as he grabbed her from the wrists and pulled her behind him, but Lucy could not understand his words. Helplessly shaking, she peeked through half-closed eyelids, her lashes heavy with dirt. An orb of blue, bright light hovered above the mage, illuminating the tunnels.

“Stay back, I’ll handle this,” Natsu whispered to her, his tone stern. Lucy nodded and clutched her fingers into the mage’s cloak like hanging on a lifeline.

Hearing the troll’s fast approach, Natsu prepared a firebolt in between his palms. Threads of energy were woven into the spell and then set aflame, tight and condensed sorcery ready to explode. Lucy flinched when the first hints of white fur showed behind the tunnel’s corner, and then the mage launched the flaming ball straight at it.

The pressure wave of the explosion threw both of them off their feet. They stumbled to the ground, but Lucy heard the terrified shrieks emerging from the troll’s throat as it retreated to the inner chamber. Lucy gasped for air in short, rapid bursts, gazing into nothingness, unable to believe that she had survived – again.

The mage listened for a while, making sure that the beast was gone. Then he turned his head, shouting over his shoulder, “Erza, I found her!” Natsu got back to Lucy and lifted her trembling chin to examine her wounds in the magelight. “She’s alive, at least, and well… relatively fine.”

The world around her went suddenly very quiet, and the light began to dim out. Natsu wiped the blood from her face, she could feel the warm touch of his fingers on her skin, but then she started to grow numb. A tingling burn spread in her neck, nausea caught her guts into an iron fist, and her limbs went limp. Natsu waved his hand in front of her eyes, saying something, but the words melted into one incomprehensible mess.

The last thing she saw before her mind blacked out was a scarlet spot appearing through the mist, then it disappeared into the darkness.

When Lucy’s eyes slipped closed and she fell limp in his arms, the relief of finding her alive wore off quick.

“Hey, Lucy, are you okay?” Natsu asked as he shook her gently from the shoulders. She didn’t awaken, didn’t respond. He wiped her forehead again, and new blood flowed from the wounds, mixing with the brownish dirt on her cheeks. Worry gnawed his insides like a venomous snake.

Erza kneeled next to them, keeping an eye out for the corner ahead. “She’s out of it. Must’ve hit her head pretty hard,” Erza said and placed her armoured hand on Natsu’s shoulder. He shuddered at the touch. “But she’s going to make it, thanks to you.”

Natsu didn’t answer. Erza was right – Lucy had certainly hit her head, more than once. Rusty stripes stained Lucy’s fair hair as more blood oozed from her scalp, never ceasing. Natsu grimaced at the sight, knowing that much bleeding was a very bad sign. Life with Igneel had taught him to recognize which wounds would heal on their own, and which ones needed magic to quicken the process. This was certainly one of those.

“Watch my back while I patch her up,” Natsu whispered to the warrior, his voice still worn out from running through the frozen cave.

He placed his hands on her forehead, gathered magicka upon his fingertips and channelled the energy into closing her wounds. Light flashed in the darkness, dancing upon her bleeding skin, and with threads of sorcery, the cuts were sown back together. Bruises remained on her face, would remain for a few days, but she’d be left without scars on her fine features.

A strange expression lingered in Erza’s eyes as she stared at them. As if mixed with envy and impression, she appeared by what ’patching up’ meant for a mage. Nords shunned magic, sometimes for a reason, but when wielded correctly, it was the true power of the world. Stitches and bandages paled compared to healing sorcery.

“I’ve never heard of trolls capturing humans. Usually, they kill their victims right ahead,” Erza said. “Something feels a bit off here.”

Natsu lifted his shoulders. “It looked like a regular troll to me.”

Suddenly, Lucy began to stir awake. She coughed dirt from her mouth and opened her eyes, hazy gaze lost and unfocused as she rapidly gasped for air. Natsu went uncomfortable when their eyes met, and he realised she was still in his arms. Quickly, he moved her away, placing her to sit on the ground with her back resting on the stone wall.

“Don’t move much, Lucy,” Erza told, crouching beside the girl. “This little wizard healed your wounds some, but you’re still hurt. Better take it easy. The troll escaped for now, but I’ll finish it once we’re sure that you’re okay.”

Lucy nodded to them softly. Then she glanced at the mage, a small smile on her lips as she muttered, “Thank you.” Natsu looked away when he felt suddenly so embarrassed, not knowing why – he was relieved that she had awakened so fast, but still, she didn’t need to thank him for healing her. He owed that to her, after all. “There’s… something strange with the troll. There’s a shrine in the inner chamber, and the troll was… angry at it.”

“A shrine?” Natsu wondered, knitting his brows. Why would a shrine have been built here, in the middle of nowhere, in some long forgotten cave? “What kind of a shrine was it? Did you see? It seems strange that a troll would care about shrines.”

Lucy concentrated on her memories, though it took her a while to answer. “A small, horned man, with a horned helm,” she said. “The troll, it kept… hitting the shrine, so frenzied that it didn’t even notice when I managed to slip away. At first, at least…”

Natsu rubbed his chin. Everything about this was so strange. Could the troll have captured Lucy for a sacrifice? As far as Natsu knew, trolls weren’t intelligent enough to have faith in anything – well, Natsu didn’t necessarily have faith in any gods either – and they weren’t known to perform any rituals with their prey. More importantly, whose shrine was it? None of the Nine Divines was depicted as a scrawny horned man. That description was more fitting for the Deadra, and not just any lesser atronachs Natsu used to summon, but the Daedric Princes, the rulers of the realms of Oblivion.

“I’ve got a feeling that there’s some Daedra worship gone straight to the Void,” Natsu muttered then, still leaning his chin to his palm as he gazed absentmindedly into nothingness. “I don’t know that much about them, but my brother used to have an interest in everything uncanny and forbidden. He taught me some things about the Daedric Princes, things that I, unfortunately, can’t remember anymore.”

There was something his brother had once told him, that he could remember to this day. ‘Do the gods even exist? How can anyone tell? But Daedra Lords, they exist. They do things. Bad things, mostly, but things I can see. The gods? They don't do a damn thing.’ And though Natsu never meddled with the Daedra, he agreed with his brother. The gods had never heard his prayers, never answered, and in the absence of the divine interference, the Daedra often found their place. Because they heard mortal prayers – and sometimes, they answered.

Erza’s eyes turned to him. “If there’s some Daedra worship included here, we’d better get out as quick as possible. Dealing with them is never a good idea.”

Natsu understood her point. She, like many Nords in Skyrim, barely tolerated summoned atronachs, not to even mention worshipping the Daedric lords. Despite that, many turned to the dark path, lured in by the hunger for power. Not all of them were entirely bad, though. Igneel had faith in the Prince of dusk and dawn, Azura, but even he had warned him about meddling with other Princes. Now, Natsu tried to recollect those memories, dig through the nights they’d drowned in mead and conversed about everything from here to Oblivion and back.

Horned man with a horned helm, and a dog.

“Clavicus Vile,” Natsu said suddenly as the memory surfaced in his mind. “That could possibly be him. He’s the Prince of trickery, bargains, and wishes. Did the shrine have a dog?”

Confusion fluttered on Lucy’s face. “No, it had just a troll.”

Natsu chuckled into his sleeve. She truly had hit her head quite hard. But still, it seemed she couldn’t remember whether the shrine had a dog or not. It didn’t matter. Natsu was quite certain that Clavicus Vile was behind it all, or at least somewhat included in this.

“So, even if the Prince is manipulating the mind of some frost troll, I think we should let it out of its misery,” Erza said then. “Follow me, fire mage. Let’s go kill us another troll.”

“Wait a moment,” Lucy told, catching Erza’s hand before she marched into the inner chamber. “Let’s not… kill it yet. I was thinking that maybe, what if…” Erza lifted her brows in wonder, and Lucy continued. “That Clavicus thing was the Prince of wishes, right? What if it wants something from the Prince, but cannot express itself? It seemed very distressed. Maybe it wanted me to speak with him.”

Erza shook her head fiercely. “Even if it wanted, you should not speak to the Daedric Prince. You could get cursed, or killed yourself, or –“

“Let her speak, gods damn it,” Natsu interrupted the warrior and glanced at Lucy. “What you said makes sense, but what would a troll want? How would they even know that the shrine is for the Prince of wishes?”

Lucy looked into his eyes, silent at first, then the insight flashed within her mind.

“What if it’s a human trapped in the body of a troll?”

Erza and Natsu stared at her without saying a single word. She had hit her head, but this… this made sense. Trolls did not capture people, they did not pray to some shrines. It had to be a human, somehow turned into a troll, perhaps by the vicious sorcery of Clavicus Vile.

“Well, if that’s true…” Erza started, but Lucy spoke over her.

“We have to help it,” she said. “Before we kill it, we have to try something. It cannot be left like that. Maybe… Maybe there’s a way to dispel whatever transition magic had been cast on it. Do you know anything about such things, Natsu?”

Natsu shrugged. “Not really, and Daedric sorcery is almost impossible to dispel by mortal magic,” he said. “We can still try, and see if there’s anything to be done. If not, well, I guess it’s best to end its misery. What do you say, Erza?”

Erza lowered her gaze to her boots and sighed heavily. As a Companion, she was honour-bound to help the citizens of Skyrim. If there was a fellow Nord in dire need of help, she had to offer her hand – even if there were Daedric forces included in the issue.

“Okay,” the warrior muttered. “You’re right. Let’s not waste any time, then.” She glanced at Lucy before she turned. “Do you want to come with us, or stay here? Can you walk now?”

Lucy rubbed her temples and nodded faintly, then attempted to stand. Erza helped her to her feet and let her lean on her arm as they began walking toward the inner chamber. Natsu followed them. He let his Candlelight spell expire, and so the light above them dimmed out.

The troll’s pained roars echoed in the cave as they reached the end of the tunnel. They crouched behind the rocks and peeked into the middle of the chamber, where the shrine stood, illuminated by a faint ray of light. Altars surrounded the shrine, candleholders were torn down and instruments of sacrifice were scattered all around, as if thrown away in frenzied violence. But as Natsu noticed the troll, laying on the ground and sobbing, his heart skipped a beat.

Its white fur had turned black where the firebolt had caught it. The troll gathered some ice from the ground and placed it on the burned wound. Trolls were aware of their weakness for fire – the thick layer of fat below their fur was very flammable, and they were often hunted for it as humans turned their fat into candles – but they usually didn’t know how to heal their burns. This one did. When the piece of ice had melted, it replaced it with another one.

“Do you see that?” Lucy whispered. “It seems to be in great pain.”

Erza nodded. “It certainly is, but does it mean it has human consciousness? How could we even find out?”

“I guess we have to just ask,” Lucy answered, and before Erza and Natsu gave her a fierce retort, she continued, “I know it’s dangerous, but this troll captured me. It thinks I can solve its problem, so I’ve gotta speak to it. Let me try.”

Natsu pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew that the troll wouldn’t want to see him after he’d blasted that firebolt at it, but he dreaded the thought of letting Lucy go there alone. “If the beast charges at you, we’ll kill it without mercy,” he said. “Be careful.”

“I’ll be.”

Natsu saw how her fingers trembled in fear, but she still rose to her feet and took a step closer to the troll. The troll heard her approach. It lifted its head from the ground and stared at her, a low growl emitting from its throat. Natsu squeezed his hands into tight fists as his heart began to race in his chest, cold sweat breaking on his neck. This was a bad idea, he thought. Really fucking bad idea.

“Hey, do you understand me?” Lucy spoke to the troll from a relatively safe distance. “Raise your hands if you understand what I’m saying. But try anything funny, and my friend here will burn you alive.”

The troll grunted quietly, but then it lifted its arms towards the cave’s ceiling. Natsu’s eyes widened in amazement. Could it really be true? Had she figured this out so easily? And how, just how could she speak so calmly in that state? Terror had frozen her limbs, but she pushed through that fear with incredible bravery.

“Now, that’s good,” Lucy said, a sigh escaping through her clenched teeth. The troll growled again as it stared at her. Tension began to grow in the atmosphere, and Natsu did not like that. Probably sensing that too, Erza placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Are you… are you human, trapped into –“

Then, a man’s voice filled the chamber like a blast of thunder, sudden and deafening.

“So, a maid has come to rescue the beast, huh?” The sly, loud voice seemed to come from inside Natsu's head, but as everyone else flinched as well, he knew they heard it too. “How boring. I was excepting something more… violent.”

Lucy’s head spun around, looking for the source of that voice. “Are you Clavicus Vile?”

“What? Of course, I am! I am Clavicus Vile, the child-god of the Morningstar, the Master of Insidious Wishes, and the Prince of Bargains. What do you want, my dear? How can I fulfill your wishes?”

The troll got to its feet, all the peacefulness in it gone. It roared to the shrine, shook its arms in the air and stamped the ground with its paws. Hearing the voice worked like pouring salt on a wound. It had heard it before, and now, it nearly flitted into a burst of apoplectic rage. Natsu walked closer to Lucy and formed a firebolt between his hands. When the troll saw it, it calmed down.

Knitting her brows in confusion, Lucy stared at the shrine, the impish man carved into stone. “Did you turn a man into a frost troll, Clavicus Vile?”

“It might be that I did. Maybe,” Clavicus answered. “A young man came to me, and begged me to make him stronger. And look at him now! He’s gone absolutely berserk!”

Lucy buried her face into her hands. “He probably didn’t want to become a troll...”

“He wanted to be strong, and now he’s stronger than any man he rivals with! He should be dancing from happiness, not ruining my hideous shrine!”

“He can’t be left like that,” Erza said from the background as she hesitantly joined the conversation. “Turn him back to normal.”

“Just kill the beast, that will end his misery. You, little fire mage, should be able to do it in no time. Now, if you don’t have anything better to wish for, then leave me alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Natsu grimaced. Now that they were sure that the troll was a man, he couldn’t just kill it if it wouldn’t attack them. Whenever Natsu had killed another person, it had always been in self-defence. Murdering a man who just searched for help… that was against his morals.

Silence fell to the cave as they thought for an answer. Clavicus was a Daedric Lord who loved toying with mortals. The troll was his plaything now, and he wouldn’t give it away so easily. But, as the Prince of Bargains, there had to be something they could do for him. An idea started to stir in Natsu’s mind. In all descriptions about him, Clavicus Vile was always accompanied by a dog. It was even said that half of his power resided in that mutt, but now, there was no dog to be found. Even in the shrine, the place beside the impish man was vacant, as if something had been there, but wasn’t anymore.

Natsu smirked. “Like searching for your dog?”

“What? What dog? I don’t have a dog.”

“I think you used to have. Without it, you don’t even have the power to bring this man back to normal, right?” Natsu answered. Lucy stared at Natsu, her eyes saying you're gonna get us killed. He kept grinning. He had a plan. “If your dog has gone missing, we could help you… if you promise to turn him back when you’ve been restored to your full power.”

A murderous stare landed on Natsu’s back. He sensed how fiercely Erza opposed the idea, but what else could there be done? They had to offer something the Daedra could benefit from, which would harm them as little as possible. Clavicus remained silent, and Natsu waited nervously for his answer.

“Well… I had a bit of a falling out with Barbas. I banished that insufferable dog, and now he’s somewhere out there, looking for someone who can settle our… disagreement. I’m glad to be rid of him, but as much as I hate to say it, you’re almost as powerful as I am now. Come to think of it… maybe it would be a win-win situation for both of us. Maybe. No promises. I’ve grown fond of this little troll… Maybe I’ll make it my new pet...”

“So do we have a deal?” Lucy asked. Natsu glanced at her, surprised that she supported his plan. “We bring your dog back, and you turn this person back to normal?”

“Fine, fine. If you bring him to me, I’ll grant you my boon. No strings attached. No messy surprises. At least, not for you...”

Then, the voice faded away. Everyone stared at the shrine without saying a word, dumbfounded that they had truly just communicated with a Daedric Lord. Natsu had expected them to be more… difficult to deal with.

The troll let out a delighted roar. It plunged to the ground, its palms brought together in hopeful praise. Traces of humanity gleamed behind those ugly three eyes, pleading to be released. Natsu’s stomach sunk as he gazed at the troll. To be trapped within such a hideous form… that wasn’t an enviable fate, not at all.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back to normal soon,” Lucy said to the beast. Her voice hadn’t ceased quivering, but she seemed slightly revealed as well. “Just don’t go kidnapping any more maids, okay?”

“Yeah, you caused enough pain for her,” Natsu added. “You really scared the shit out of us.”

The troll nodded repeatedly. Then, as if apologizing, it spread its arms and walked towards Lucy, attempting to close her into an embrace. Lucy shrieked and hid behind Natsu’s back, and the troll halted at its steps. Ashamed, it hung its head low and turned away. It sat down in front of the shrine and leant its chin into its enormous hands.

“Well, let’s hope there’s not a dog buried here,” Erza muttered as she walked to them. “If you get into problems because of this, I’ll not be involved.” Then she reached the troll. “There’s one thing you could do for us, as a payment for our troubles. We can’t carry on in that blizzard, so we are going to stay in this cave for a night. Keep a guard at the cave’s entrance, and we’ll be even.”

It nodded again, giving them a friendly grunt. It went to the darkness behind the shrine and disappeared into a tunnel, that most likely led to the other entrance of the cave. Natsu hadn’t even thought that they’d be staying here for a night, for all that had been forgotten while they had followed the troll’s tracks through the cave. It was still the best option. The blizzard was still raging outside, and Lucy needed to recover from all this before they could carry on.

When the troll was gone, Erza turned to them again. Lucy finally dared to step away from Natsu’s back, the frightened tension in her finally starting to wear off into tiredness. “Let’s leave this accursed shrine now,” Erza said. “We’ll camp in the chambers closer to the entrance. Some pilgrims, or well… Daedra worshippers, had made those sections rather liveable.”

Now, Natsu could barely remember seeing any traces of settlement earlier. Maybe a few abandoned travel chests and unpacked bedrolls, as if someone had been there, and left quickly. If there had been some pilgrims recently, had the troll asked for their help as well? Maybe, and none of them had even tried to help. Out of desperation, it had captured Lucy – and thanks to her empathy, help was finally on the way.

Well, metaphorically speaking, since Natsu didn’t know how in the Oblivion would they find that damned dog. But that was tomorrow’s problem, not today’s. They had more acute issues to deal with, like finding food and fresh, clean clothes. Natsu hoped those Daedra worshippers had left something good behind, because he was really, really dying to change his robes.

With Erza’s lead, they left the shrine behind. Lucy took support from Erza’s arm again and Natsu followed them, drifting lost to the sea of his thoughts again. He was glad, so incredibly glad that Lucy was okay, but what would follow now? Would this change her mind about joining the College and learning magic? Life outside Helgen’s wall wouldn’t be just a merry, lighthearted story she’d always heard about, one she had wanted to be a part of.

Stories don’t make you bleed, Natsu thought again. Reality does.

Then, when he stepped into the tunnel, he heard a voice echoing behind him.

“Hey, fire mage, have you heard of your big brother?”

Natsu’s heart jumped into his throat. Lucy and Erza halted as well. He turned around, staring at the distant shrine. For a second Natsu hoped Clavicus had mistaken him for someone else, but an ill feeling spread in his guts. The Daedra did not mistake people. “What about him? How do you know him?”

“Oh, he came to me with a request, once. Such a majestic wizard indeed, yet there was one thing even he couldn’t do… and neither could I.”

Natsu didn’t know what to say. A Daedric Lord knew his brother, and recognized him as well. In all these years, Natsu hadn’t found a single clue about his brother’s whereabouts. Never until now, from a fucking Daedra. “Sheogorath’s beard…” Natsu muttered, burying his face into his hand. “When… When did you meet him?”

“I don’t know. Was it five years ago, or fifty? You mortals have such a different flow of time.”

The mage scoffed. “Well, I haven’t heard of him in a while, but I know that’s he’s alive. That’s all that matters to me. Why do you care?”

“I was just wondering. Were you aware that he’s gained quite a reputation among us? Especially our old Molag Bal might have taken a liking of him...”

Natsu gulped in both despair and disbelief. He’d always known his brother was rather eccentric, but meddling with Molag Bal, who sought to enslave and destroy the mortal race? That… That just couldn’t be true. Lucy sensed his growing discomfort and caught his sleeve, but she didn’t seem to know what to say either.

“But oh, that’s all I can tell you for free… There’s actually something I’d want in return for more information about your dear brother.”

“This is a fucking trap,” Natsu muttered under his breath, then raised his voice. “Whatever you’ve got, you can keep it! I don’t want to hear any more from you, Clavicus Vile.”

“Such a shame,” the Daedra answered. “But I’ll tell him you stopped by, if I get a chance...”

Then, the Prince of Trickery disappeared again, leaving Natsu with bitterness he had thought to have forgotten long ago.

Shrine of Clavicus

Chapter Text

By the time they settled into the abandoned campsite, Lucy’s hands were still shaking.

When Erza had described the place as ‘rather liveable’, she had been exaggerating. The wooden platforms were at least a century old, and the air smelled of a mouldy cellar. A thin layer of frost covered the cave’s floor and walls. Only the ground around the fireplace was free of ice. Smoke rose towards the crevices in the ceiling, and all the warmth seemed to flee the same route as well. It was better here than out in the blizzard, but still, Lucy couldn’t shake off the sickening feeling in her guts.

However, she couldn’t put it into words either. She was exhausted beyond measure, but could not fall asleep. The events of the last two days swirled inside her head with a nauseating spin, and she just wanted it to stop. The more she spiralled down to the scattered memories, the more it felt like a fading dream, one she couldn’t wake from. Would anything feel real ever again, or would this never-ending mist be all there’d ever be?

In perfect silence, Lucy sat in front of the fire, warming her frozen fingers by the flames. She flinched at the howling of the wind and squeezed her eyes shut. For the hundredth time, she had to convince herself that she was safe now. The troll was gone. She wasn’t alone anymore. The Companion sat on the opposite side of the fire, and the mage was somewhere in the same chamber, about to get one of the pilgrim’s locked travel chests open. He had been trying for a good while now.

“Damn!”

Lucy spun her head towards the noise. A ball of light hovered above Natsu, casting his shadow on the wall as he crouched beside the chest. A small piece of metal clinked to the ground when he broke yet another lockpick. Grimacing, Natsu stood up and kicked the wooden box as hard as he could, all his patience now lost.

“Stay locked then, bitch!” His shout echoed in the cave, making Lucy’s aching head ring. “Didn’t wanna open you anyway!”

Erza sneered. She had taken off her armour a moment ago, and now she stretched her limbs in the campfire’s warmth. Seeing her in long-sleeved linen underwear felt strange to Lucy. She hadn’t expected her to have such a feminine figure underneath the layers of steel. “Do you need help, mage?” the Companion asked. “I can break the chest open with my sword.”

“You’d just break the stuff inside,” Natsu mumbled and went through his pockets. “Fuck… I’m out of lockpicks...”

The mage had been a little bit off ever since they left Clavicus’s shrine. Lucy had heard the conversation Natsu had with the Daedric Lord, and she understood why he was upset. Even though Natsu had said he didn’t want to find his brother, there was nothing worse than uncertainty. However, trusting the words of the Prince of Trickery would be foolish. He’d tell any lies just for his own entertainment.

Natsu kicked the chest again, and to everyone’s surprise, it opened. Dumbfounded, the mage stood still and stared at the cloth and coins that fell from the box as it turned over. He flashed a wide smile as he picked up the piece of dark cloth to examine it under the magelight.

“By Sheogorath’s beard, finally some fresh robes!” he exclaimed. “Gods, I can’t wait to get rid of these rags I’ve worn since I left the College…”

Lucy furrowed her brow. She remembered how he’d mentioned that she shouldn’t be wearing mage’s robes until she’s learned to defend herself. She understood his point now. If she hadn’t had the leather armour’s protection today, her wounds would’ve been much worse. Still, she couldn’t help but feel intrigued as she saw the pile of robes at Natsu’s feet. For a while, the whirlwinds in her head seemed to slow down, just a bit.

As the mage kept digging through the clothing, Lucy rose and left the fire’s warmth. She walked to him and peeked over Natsu’s shoulder. A faint, barely noticeable layer of energy surrounded the robes in his hand. “Are those enchanted?” she asked.

Natsu shuddered from surprise, not having heard her sneaking behind his back. He chuckled nervously, took a breath to calm himself, and then showed the robe to Lucy. “Yeah,” he said. “Most mages use robes made from a special fabric that has been woven with magic. These enchantments offer aid with spellcasting, like reducing the cost of magicka when using certain spells and helping with regenerating energy.”

Lucy nodded, enchanted by the knowledge. “What do these robes do?”

Natsu glanced at the black fabric, as if analyzing the frequencies of the energy the robes radiated. Before Lucy even recognized the vibration, he already answered, “As usual, help with magicka regeneration, and make the usage of Destruction spells slightly easier.” He chuckled dryly. “As if made for me.”

Shyly, Lucy looked at the other robes, and hesitated a while before she gathered the courage to ask, “Would there be anything for me?”

As soon as the question left her lips, she regretted it. She could read in his eyes how he opposed the idea of her wearing robes just yet. She had managed to cast only one spell, so would the robes somehow overcharge her energies and made her lose control, with destructive effects? However, Lucy’s doubts melted away when Natsu picked one set of robes and held it in front of her, adjusting the size of the cloth on her body.

“Well, these are too big for you,” he mumbled and threw them away. He took another pair and tried it as well. The hem of the robes folded at Lucy’s feet, and the sleeves reached her mid-tighs. “Damn, these too. Must’ve belonged to some tall guy.”

Lucy chuckled and waved her hand slightly. “It’s not a big deal, this leather armour is fine for me now…” she said and sat beside him, forgetting the idea of wearing robes yet. “Who were these people anyway? Isn’t it wrong to just take their stuff?”

“They won’t be needing them anymore,” Natsu answered. “Leave something somewhere and you’ll lose it. If you want to keep something, better hold onto it tight.”

Lucy smiled a bit. The pilgrims seemed to have left in a hurry, running away with nothing but their lives. Abandoned bedrolls surrounded the campfire and barrels lined the walls, probably filled with stale bread and vegetables. The troll must’ve scared them away, and Lucy understood that exceedingly well.

After studying the place, Lucy’s eyes moved back to the empty travel chest. Something glimmered on the bottom, catching her attention. She reached out her hand and grabbed a chain of silver. A heavy amulet hung on it, adorned with a green stone. Sudden excitement began to bubble in her chest. If there wouldn’t be robes for her size, some magical jewellery would be just as good.

“Is this enchanted, too?” she asked.

Natsu took the amulet into his hand as Lucy hung it in the air. He analysed it precisely for a moment. “It’s just a regular necklace, but you should keep it. We can sell it later. Might be valuable.”

The mage let go of the amulet. It swung back to Lucy, and she sighed in disappointment as her hopes diminished. However, Natsu was right. She had sold lots of necklaces and knew how expensive jewellery was, not to even mention the prices of enchanted pieces. Even if this one wasn’t magical, they could still fetch a nice price for it.

“They might have been necromancers,” Natsu said suddenly. Lucy’s eyes flit from the jewel to him. “They wear black, hooded robes like this, and they often raid burial sites to use jewellery in their rituals. That would explain this amount of gold, too.”

Then, Natsu folded the robes and some other clothes he had picked, and placed them beside him. He began collecting the coins before putting them in the small purse. Lucy had been so enraptured by the robes that she had forgotten all the glittering gold. She’d seen enough septims in her life.

“But what were they doing out here?” she wondered, disrupting Natsu’s count. Frustrated, he snorted and started again.

“Probably came to ask something from Clavicus,” he answered briefly, then continued the counting. He poured all the coins back to the ground and gathered them in his hand, one by one. “One, two and half, four, three, seven…” He grunted, slamming his palm to his forehead as he realized his mistake. “Damn, I suck at this.”

Amused, Lucy smiled softly and offered a helping hand, leaving the necklace on the rock beside her. “Let me count them.”

Natsu gave the coins to her without saying anything. He tossed the purse to her too, and so Lucy began to count. She placed all the golden septims in one pile, smaller silver coins in another, and quickly summed them in her mind before putting them into the purse. Natsu stared at her with silent astonishment when she was done.

“That makes about forty-two and half septims,” Lucy said as she gave the purse back to him. He furrowed his brow in confusion. “You know, ten silver pieces equal one gold coin.”

“Yeah, I know,” Natsu answered and nervously wiped strands of hair from his face. He put the purse into his bag, then turned back to her. “Well, that’s a fair amount of coin. That’ll last us ‘til we’re at Winterhold.”

Lucy nodded, and then silence fell. Natsu’s magelight spell began to dim out, and in the fading light, Lucy gazed at his features while he dazed into his own thoughts. The bruises on his cheeks looked painful, but for some reason, he hadn’t bothered to heal them with magic. Dried troll blood formed black spots on his forehead, some made knots in his messy, pink hair. Ever since she had first seen him, she’d wondered how he’d gotten that colour. Was it sorcery, or had he been born like that? She wanted to ask, but didn’t know how to begin.

Lucy turned away when she felt like she’d gazed at him for too long. She picked up the necklace again, examining the silvery carvings under the magelight. The green stone in the middle of the amulet could be an emerald, but she wasn’t sure. She slipped the chain into her neck, felt the jewel’s weight on her palm, then let it rest against her chest. She had once loved wearing her mother’s jewellery, and now comfort and longing merged into the silver with strength she hadn’t expected.  

She closed her eyes, reveled in the feeling of small familiarity. At that moment, she decided that when they’d reach the next town, she wouldn’t sell this necklace. Any small comfort was far more valuable than gold would ever be, even if she could buy enchanted items with it.

As her chin began to tremble, she let out a worn-out sigh and let the memories of her mother disappear before she’d start wailing again. The mage had been sick of listening to her weeping, and she didn’t want to make the atmosphere worse than it already was, heavy with uncertainty and fear. She glanced at Natsu, whose green eyes rested on the campfire. Now that she noticed, they were the same colour as the emerald on her amulet. She smiled a bit.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Natsu shrugged nonchalantly. “My brother, I guess,” he muttered, keeping his voice so low that the Companion wouldn’t hear them. By the fire far behind them, Erza wrote some notes into her journal, unconcerned about their conversation. “Don’t wanna believe what Clavicus said. Not one word of it. That Molag Bal thing… that just can’t be true. Zeref is too smart to meddle with the Daedric Prince of domination and corruption.”

A sudden shiver went through Lucy’s body. She could see the anguish in him, the disbelief, failing attempts to reassure himself that such a thing wasn’t true. Lucy hadn’t even heard the name of Molag Bal until Clavicus Vile mentioned it, but if such a monstrous-seeming entity had taken the interest of Natsu’s brother… the possibility alone was disturbing.

“Your brother’s name is Zeref?” Lucy asked softly. The talk about Daedric Lords began to upset her, so she aimed to redirect the conversation in a subtle way.

Natsu glanced at her, appearing slightly puzzled. “Yeah. Didn’t I tell you?” When Lucy nod her head, he looked away. “Guess I haven’t talked about him that much in years, so I forgot to mention his name.”

“If you haven’t even seen him in years, I think that’s only natural,” Lucy answered. “How long has it been since you’ve last seen him?”

Natsu remained silent for a while, as if he browsed through his memory, trying to count the years only to mess up the numbers and start again. “Twelve years, I think,” he said then. “But it has been six years since anyone heard about him. Nobody knows where he’s been. And now Clavicus claims that he came here, but I… I don’t know. How could I even know? I barely know that he’s still alive.”

“Are you sure that he is?” Lucy wondered, a hint of doubt in her tone. “No offence, but when a person goes missing for years, it usually isn’t a good sign…”

Natsu chuckled. “I’m sure of it. Zeref left his summoned familiar to the College when he left,” he started. “He had conjured a ghostly cat named Happy, and that cat still stays in the College. As long as it’s there, arranging little pranks, we know that Zeref is alive.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in amazement. “Really? He’s kept a familiar’s gate open for six years?” she asked. Her tiny familiar had lived only for a brief moment before it had dissolved, and she hadn’t been able to summon it again.

“More than that,” Natsu laughed a bit. “I think he first conjured Happy when he was still at home. Could’ve been twelve or fourteen years since he’s opened the gate.”

Speechless, she simply bowed her head in awe. Just how powerful could Natsu’s brother be? She struggled to even imagine the mastery of magic he had to possess. And if the same blood flowed in Natsu’s veins, how powerful would he become in a decade, when he’d be of his brother’s age? The thought was almost terrifying.

“That’s… impressive,” she murmured then.

The smirk on Natsu’s lips died down. “Indeed,” he said. “That’s all they ever say.”

A sudden, blunt ache filled her heart upon his words. A shadow loomed above the fire mage, the shadow of his genius brother. He didn’t have to say it out loud, Lucy could read the feeling from him as if he were an open book. He had grown in the pressure of not being as good nor as skilled as his older brother, and it haunted him. These ghosts lingered among his words, unspoken, but still clear as a day.

The magelight had already gone out by the time Lucy dared to talk again.

“I was just wondering…” she started quietly. “Does your brother have the same hair as you?” When Natsu gave her a questioning look, she continued with an explanation. “Some mages used to pass by the store now and then. Maybe I could remember him if he’d visited there.”

Natsu sneered, then brought his legs closer to his body and leaned his chin on his knees. “Well, have you ever seen anyone with hair like me?”

A hot blush rose to her cheeks. She hadn’t just made a mistake, but now her underlying curiosity was exposed too. “Actually, I haven’t…”

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first one to point that out,” Natsu said and thoughtlessly ran his fingers through his hair. “My brother’s hair was raven black, like my father’s. My mother was fair-haired, like you. Then there’s me, a damn oddity. Well, there’s this thing, about my mother…”

His voice faded. A strange silence grew between them. Lucy wondered if her inquisitiveness had touched the wrong subject. There wasn’t discomfort in it, but bitterness, like sour blood oozing from wounds that never truly healed. Untold stories, guarded secrets, too painful to be put into words. And still, despite sensing it, she knew that only bringing them to the surface would finally stop the decade-long bleeding.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can tell me, if you want.”

In uncomfortable hesitation, Natsu stretched his neck and scratched the back of his head, looking to the frozen ground below them. Lucy was ready to take her words back, but then he suddenly answered, barely audible. “Well, my mother, she… she was a bit ill in the head, long before she died. And eh…” He paused, dragging his fingers down his face with a pained sigh. “Damn, who am I lying to? She wasn’t just a bit ill, but a fucking lot.”

Lucy’s brows tilted downwards from the unexpected sorrow. Earlier, he had just said that his mother grieved herself to death when Zeref had disappeared, but she hadn’t known there was more to the illness. Natsu clenched his hand into a fist, rested his lips on knuckles, choked up on words, swallowed them and tried again. As if he went back and forth on whether to trust her or not.

“Zeref was ten years older than me, I’ve already told you that?” Natsu asked, and Lucy answered with a faint nod. “Well, my parents didn’t have any more children after he was born. My father got sick with rockjoint around that time, so maybe it had something to do with it, but otherwise, the three of them were doing just fine. A cosy little family, right?” He sighed. “Until my mother suddenly found out that she’s expecting another child.”

Lucy gazed at him, the sadness from his eyes reflecting in hers. “So you were a surprise?”

“An unwanted surprise, yes,” Natsu corrected grimly. “It had been a rough year. The frost had come early and destroyed most of the crops. My mother, she kind of… lost her mind. She thought they wouldn’t make it through the winter with a quarter of their usual harvest. They already had my brother to feed, so my mother decided to… well, get rid of me. She went to the nearby marshlands, collected a bunch of nightshades, and… brewed some tea from them. Then she drank it.”

Lucy brought her hand over her mouth to cover a shocked gasp. It was widely known how poisonous nightshades were: few flowers were enough to cause severe fever, and tea brewed from a bunch of them would be enough to kill a horse. But since Natsu was there now, sitting alive in front of her, something had saved him from such fate. The gods had been merciful that time.

“How did… how did you survive?” Lucy wondered in disbelief.

Natsu lifted his shoulders closer to his ears, then lowered them again. “By some miracle, I think,” he said quietly. “Somehow, me and my mother both lived through the poisoning. But when I was born the next summer, my hair was like this.” He picked a long strand into his hands. “The colour of a nightshade.”

Lucy gave him a wistful half-smile. Even in all the darkness behind it, it was a beautiful, unique colour. Nightshades were often planted in graveyards, in floral banks by the halls of the dead, as if symbolizing that even in death, there was beauty in the grief. A bleeding heart was an open one.

“Maybe fate had some plans stored for you,” Lucy chuckled. “But what about your mother? Did the poisoning result in her… illness? Was that how she… died?”

Ignoring her comment about fate, Natsu just shook his head. “I don’t know for sure. Maybe. She always kind of drifted in and out of sanity, but she was relatively healthy until my brother disappeared. Then she…” Natsu swallowed as his voice began to shiver. “She just couldn’t take it anymore. She stopped eating.”

He had to stop speaking then. Lucy gazed at him as he bit his lower lip to stop its quivering. She wanted to place her hand on his shoulder, somehow express her sympathies, but she froze, unable to do anything. Just being there seemed to be good enough for him. After collecting himself for a moment and holding back the tears, he continued.

“It took so fucking long for her to starve that I was relieved when she finally died,” Natsu whispered and lowered his head. “It was… tough to watch. She looked like a draugr in the end.”

Lucy looked down, on the verge of tears as well. She had never seen a draugr, but she could imagine what a person starved to death looked like. Slow, lingering goodbyes weren’t any better than quick ones. Lucy’s farewell to her parents had been so brief, so sudden that she still couldn’t grasp that they were truly gone.

“I’m so sorry you had to lose her like that,” Lucy whispered.

Still gazing at the cave’s gound, Natsu shrugged. “Don’t be. My mom’s at peace now,” he consoled. “It was so hard for her when Zeref disappeared. She wouldn’t even speak, she just cried. And she kept crying until her last breath.”

Then, Lucy’s stomach sunk. She could still remember what Natsu had said to her, when they’d escaped Helgen, when she’d cried her eyes out under the pines. ‘Just stop crying, I’m sick of listening to that,’ he had said, and she had thought he’d been just rude. Now, she saw everything in a different light.

“I wish I could say the same about my parents,” Lucy said. “I… I don’t think they’d be at peace if they knew what I’m doing now, and where I’m going. I know my mother would just want me to be happy, but my father would surely gut me for starting to study sorcery.”

Natsu let out a dry chuckle. “Sounds familiar,” he answered. “After my mom had died, I basically ran away from home and headed to Winterhold alone. Couldn’t stand the company of my old man for one more day. Bastard tried to catch me, but rockjoint had made him too slow. Sometimes I think that maybe I should visit there, but then again, I’m not sure if he has calmed down by now…”

“I’m sure he has,” Lucy answered with a smile. Perhaps, if she had run away too, her father would’ve been just as furious, but Lucy didn’t think he could have stayed mad for long. Despite all the disputes between a parent and a child, the love of their bond would overcome all obstacles and conflicts. So she wanted to believe. She could be wrong, but somehow she sensed that Natsu’s father would welcome his son back with open arms, if he’d ever decide to go back home.

Then they both fell silent, but the discomfort had dissolved between them, replaced by a seedling of trust. There was still so much left to say, so many stories stuck behind the barriers of borderlines they hadn’t crossed yet. She sat beside him, shivering from the cold, but didn’t want to leave either. There was something fragile in the atmosphere that she chose not to break.

After a while, Natsu turned his gaze to the locked travelling chest and rubbed his chin. They had both completely forgotten about it, but somehow, Lucy felt like she’d forgotten a small piece of her darkness as well.

The nauseating spin in her head had come to a stop.

“Do you have any lockpicks?” Natsu asked then.

Natsu didn’t know where Lucy had found lockpicks, or how she knew how to use them, but eventually, the other chest opened. By that time, his stomach was rumbling from hunger, so finding the box filled with dried meat, bread and mead was the highlight of this miserable day.

He carried the chest to their camping spot by the fire. Erza lifted her eyes from the notes as he put the box on the ground. She approved his findings with a small nod, then she took one slice of bread and a bottle of mead. When Natsu offered some bread to Lucy, she just shook her head and seated on the bedroll she’d spread in front of the fireplace. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, some bruises had formed on her pale skin, and Natsu looked away before he’d get too worried. In silence, he began eating his share of their meal.

Natsu grimaced as he took the first bite. The bread had a slightly mouldy aftertaste, covered with too much salt, but he ate it quickly without complaints. When he was done, he picked up the fresh robes he’d found and headed out to search for a kettle or a bucket. There had been a groundwater stream deeper in the cave, and he wanted to wash the dried troll blood from his skin before changing into clean clothes.

He cast Candlelight when he wandered too far from the fire. The spell’s light descended softly on the cave’s stone walls and the wooden structures there’d been built. The old boards creaked as he climbed on them. Some dark-red stains were splattered over the wood, and Natsu didn’t know if it was blood or beetroot stew. He hoped for the latter.

On a small table in the corner of the platform rested an open book. An inkwell and a quill were laid next to it, but nothing was written on the blank pages, except for a date. 17^th of Last Seed, 4E 201. Natsu knit his brows, browsed to another page, and found it empty as well. Apparently, the troll had attacked before someone got their new journal started.

“Hey, what day is it?” Natsu hollered to the women. It had been the beginning of Last Seed or the ending of Sun’s Height when he’d left the College, but he wasn’t good at keeping the track of time.

“19th of Last Seed,” Erza answered. “Why?”

Natsu lowered his gaze back to the journal. So, these people had escaped this cave the same day when Helgen got hit by a dragon. It didn’t matter to him much when they’d left or why, as long as they wouldn’t be coming back here. Dealing with necromancers was always a bit… iffy. Igneel had been into necromancy, but it hadn’t been that bad. They seemed to get worse in big groups, forming into all kinds of nasty cults that aimed to resurrect the Emperor of Rorikstead or something equally insane.

“Are you a scribe, Lucy?” Natsu asked. “There’s an empty journal here if you’re interested.”

Lucy looked over her shoulder and thought for a while. “Yeah, why not. Leave it there, I’ll check it soon.”

Natsu nodded and closed the book. He had never been one to keep a journal. Whenever he tried to write, he kept forgetting letters and messing up words, and his handwriting looked like a crow had stepped on ink and jumped on parchment. Natsu preferred collecting mementoes and storing them in his quarters in the College. That way, he remembered events much better. Documenting their journey had been Igneel’s responsibility, just as keeping track of time had been, but now those memoirs were Empire’s property. May they have fun reading about their adventures, those damned bastards.

Muttering curses and imagining creative ways to kill some Imperial soldiers, he continued his search for a kettle. One he found, but it had some red stew burned to its bottom, so he tossed it away. There was a wooden bucket between the barrels. He couldn’t warm any water in it, but he decided it would suffice. Exhaustion had begun to weigh his limbs down as if his robes had turned into iron, but he pushed through the tiredness, put the fresh clothes into the bucket and headed to the underground stream.  

The stream was so deep in the cave that he couldn’t hear Erza’s or Lucy’s voice when he reached it. Gladly. Unlike the certain Nord mage in the College, Natsu didn’t like to strip down in front of strangers. Though, he had just told some things to Lucy that he hadn’t told anyone except Igneel before, so maybe he shouldn’t call her a stranger anymore. He still thought it was more appropriate to get washed up alone. She had seemed rather shy, and well, so was he.  

Wanting to get it done as quickly as possible, took off the fur cloak and slipped out of his robes. Already shivering, he released his feet from his boots and wool socks, dyed red with blood. He crouched by the running groundwater and filled the bucket. Then he braced himself by taking a deep breath, and poured the bucketful of icy cold water down on him.

“SHIT!”

Shuddering, he screamed as frigid water ran down his bare skin, feeling like a thousand tiny needles prickling him. As fast as he could, he rubbed his scalp, hair and face clean from all blood and dirt. With his teeth chattering, he filled the bucket again and cursed when he rinsed himself again.

While jumping up and down from the cold, he suddenly saw something shiny in the water. The light of his spell reflected from the golden surface. A strange warmth replaced the frigidness, and then he reached for the object, picking it into his hand before the stream washed it away. It was a ring made from pure gold, resonating ancient sorcery. Magic had been smithed into it, and he had to examine it closely to understand the enchantments.

He turned the small ring around between his fingers while he analyzed its energy. It seemed old, as if it was forgotten here centuries ago, and no one had held it until now. He couldn’t quite tell what it did, for the energy didn’t match any schools of magic he was familiar with. But when he slid it into his little finger, he felt how power surged through him, as if the amount of magicka he was able to channel had suddenly expanded.

And then, he knew that he couldn’t keep it.

He took off the ring, closed it into his fist and stepped out of the stream. He’d stood there so long that he couldn’t feel his feet anymore, but now his thoughts clarified. Without a doubt, he knew he should give the ring to Lucy. Wearing enchanted jewels as a novice held some risks, including overcharging one’s ability to channel magicka, but if Lucy had managed to summon a familiar on her first day, she’d have no problems wearing it. Instead, it could help her achieve her goals, and make sure that she’d be able to join the College of Winterhold.

Besides, the ring was too small for him anyway…

When Natsu had gotten dressed into his new robes, he put the ring into his pocket. He pulled on long wool socks, secured the orcish dagger on his belt, and fastened the fur cloak on his shoulders. He filled the bucket with water once more before he headed back to the camp. His teeth were still clattering from the cold, but his limbs ached a little less, the absence of pain making him drowsy. Maybe tonight, he’d be able to get some proper sleep.

Back at the camp, Lucy was sitting by the fire with the journal in her lap. She wrote delicate lines on the paper, a little frown on her forehead as she focused on it. Natsu smiled a bit. Somehow, he had sensed that Lucy enjoyed writing. Igneel used to have the same look on his face when he wrote entries of their travels.

“Here, I brought some water,” Natsu said and left the bucket on the ground.

Lucy flinched at his sudden arrival, but calmed down just as fast. “Oh, thank you,” she answered. An opened mead bottle stood beside her, but it was still full. “I was getting a bit thirsty. Erza offered me some mead, but I… I didn’t really like it.”

Natsu snorted and glanced at Erza. She sat on the other side of the fire, with two empty bottles at her feet. A faint red blush adorned her cheeks, bringing back some bad memories. Natsu gulped. He didn’t want to see that woman drunk, ever again. If he had to have a strong drink and a fistfight with a woman to know her, he’d rather know them at all.

“You’ll get used to it, mark my words,” Erza chuckled. “Some say women don’t handle alcohol as good as men, but our heaviest drinker in Jorrvaskr is a woman. Nobody drinks like our sweet Cana. She’s always drunk.”

“I’d rather not be drunk at all,” Lucy whispered and closed the journal. She took one empty bottle from Erza, filled it with water, but grimaced at the mead’s bitter aftertaste. “Gods, this is terrible.”

Natsu spread his bedroll by the fire and seated down. Erza said something about different brews of Nord mead, and Natsu didn’t care to listen. Lucy poured some water from the bottle into her palms and splashed it on her face. She rubbed away the splattered blood and stains of dust, shivering from the cold. A thought of warming the bottle for her with a simple flame spell crossed Natsu’s mind, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“Alright, I believe you will be okay here for a while? I’ll go check if the troll-man has kept his promise and if the blizzard has started to subside already. I’d rather leave in the morning,” Erza said, stood up and dressed in her travelling cloak.

Lucy nodded to her. “Sure. Get back safely.”

Relief flooded into Natsu’s chest as he watched Erza leave the cave. He wouldn’t mind if she wouldn’t get back safely, even though she’d been a great help in rescuing Lucy today. There was just something about her that he couldn’t stand. Dishonesty, false honour… the list went on and on. At least she hadn’t strangled him in his sleep last night, so that was a small win.

“Would you like this mead?” Lucy asked, offering the opened bottle to him. “You can have it if you want.”

Natsu shrugged and received it. “Yeah, I guess it would help me sleep better.”

Lucy looked into his eyes with sudden sadness in her. Natsu took a sip, frowned at the taste, then lowered the bottle, keeping his fingers wrapped around it. He glanced into the fire, and could still feel Lucy’s gaze on him, as if she wanted to say something too, but the silence was all they both had.

“Hey, I found something pretty cool from the bottom of the stream. Thought you’d like it,” Natsu said after a while and shoved his hand into his pocket. He didn’t quite know how to approach her with this, if she’d find it awkward, but if he’d stay quiet any longer, he’d be too tempted to keep the ring. He lifted his hand and opened his fingers, revealing the gold ring on his palm. “Here. It’s enchanted. Helps you contain more magicka within you before channelling it into spells.”

Before Lucy even answered, Natsu tossed the ring to her. She caught it upon a reflex, stuttered something in a loss of words, her eyes sparkling from excitement. Awestruck, she glanced at him, and Natsu swore he had never seen a smile so bright.

“Really?” she whispered. “Don’t you… Don’t you want to keep it?”

Natsu shook his head. “No. You need it more than me.”

Lucy waited for a moment if he’d change his mind, but when he didn’t, she slid the ring to her index finger. She gasped at the sensation of newfound power. The energy woven into the gold was nearly overwhelming, but she’d get used to it in time. More importantly, she’d learn how to use it to her advantage.

As Lucy adored the ring, Natsu grinned. “Now that Erza is not here, want to try casting some firebolts?”

When she answered his grin, Natsu knew that she wasn’t just a stranger anymore, which was good. One could never have too many friends in Skyrim, after all.

A/N: The cave they're chilling at:

Hi guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think :) 

And Natsu didn't propose her with that ring thing, that was purely platonic (at least for now haha :D). Skyrim's wedding and marriage traditions differ a lot from ours. A person looking for a marriage wears an amulet of Mara to show that they're available, and so on. They only get matching rings after they've been married.

Chapter Text

Two ghostly wolves jogged down the narrow mountain path. One of them was slightly smaller than the other, but equally graceful and strong. Their paws left no marks on the freshly-fallen snow. The white veil was first broken by their summoners, who walked right behind the wolves. The sight made Lucy’s heart burst from pride. She hadn’t just been able to conjure a full-grown wolf, but it had also existed for a while now. There had been many dogs in Helgen, and if she listened closely, her wolf sounded just like a dog. Until it howled.

The mountain pass was coming to an end. They had already passed the highest point of the road, and walking downhill made Lucy’s shins ache. She could feel her toes again, for the temperature rose as the stone walls around them grew lower. Full-grown pines replaced the dry scrubs, and from some places, Lucy could see the autumn colours of the Rift blazing on the horizon. After yesterday’s storm, she welcomed the warmth with open arms.

Natsu’s wolf was the first to expire. Suddenly, it let out a tiny whimper and dissolved into the crispy midday air, leaving nothing behind. Lucy’s halted, looking to its side where its companion had just been. Timidly putting its ears back, it vanished as it followed Natsu’s wolf into Oblivion.

“Good job, Lucy!” the mage cheered, smiling. Lucy answered his smile – in fact, she was already smiling.

Lucy had been too exhausted to wield the enchanted ring properly when they tested it yesterday. She had been able to summon a tiny pup and cast a little flame, but that was pretty much it. After a relatively good night’s sleep, she understood how to channel the expanded magicka into her spells. With Erza’s approval, they had trained since they left the cave this morning. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the day had passed by in a blink of an eye.

“How should I use a familiar in a battle?” Lucy asked. She had to wait for a while for her magicka to regenerate until she could use it again. While Natsu could cast a spell after another before exhausting himself, Lucy felt drained after a single summon.

“Well, first you gotta figure out if someone is being hostile towards you, and you have to make that decision quickly. If you encounter a wolf pack or a bear, it’s safe to say that always summon a familiar right ahead. Animals handle each other better than humans do,” Natsu explained, gazing into the distance. “If it seems that they won’t attack you, then just calmly move on. But if they show signs of aggression, grab your bow and prepare to fight. The same strategy works with humans, except that it’s easier to figure out their intentions. A travelling caravan? Let them be. A bandit troupe? Be ready to kill.”

“Makes sense,” Lucy answered. “So, I’d better stay behind with my bow?”

“Exactly. The familiar keeps them busy in close range, while you can aim for the throat.”

Lucy nodded. She had tried ranged battle yesterday, and it hadn’t ended too well. First, her arrow had almost hit the back of Natsu’s head. Second, she had been surprised from behind. She’d never leave her back unguarded again, but otherwise, the strategy sounded logical. It would be safer to keep her distance from the next enemy they would encounter, but Lucy hoped they would be out of the mountains before that happened. The cold made her fingers shaky.

“Should I have a dagger, too?” Lucy asked. She had been in awe when Natsu had killed the troll with his dagger. For a moment, she had just stared at the troll’s blood spraying on his face, forgetting everything else… and ignored the third troll that grabbed her from behind.

“Maybe,” the mage said, feeling his blade was still in place. “We’ll find you one. It’s handy if you get too close to an enemy. It’s fast to grab, unlike a bow, but it’s no use if you’re against someone with a greatsword. Or a warhammer. Damn, I hate warhammers...”

“Got hit by any?”

Natsu grinned. “Dropped one on my leg. Had an ugly bruise for months.”

Lucy wondered if Natsu ever had a moment when he didn’t have a bruise or a cut somewhere. She had known him only for a few days, but had already seen how drawn he was to danger. Like a luna moth attracted to a candle, but never too close to the flame. Having his execution cancelled due to the first dragon attack in centuries? That man had insane luck. Lucy was glad some of his luck had reached her, too.

“Did you have some bad dreams again?” Natsu asked, waking Lucy from her thoughts. She blinked as she realised she had been unintentionally staring at the mage. Already guessing why he asked, she turned her head away, ashamed of herself. She had been screaming again in her sleep.

“I had…” she admitted shyly, her voice dying as the dream surfaced in her mind. “It was of the woman I killed in Embershard mine. She came back to haunt me. Just when I thought I’d escaped her, I ran to a troll. The dream ended when it tore me in half.”

During the daytime, she felt almost fine, but the terrors crept into her dreams. When she focused on surviving through the moment, she couldn’t think about what happened the day before. However, grief was persistent, a dark cloud of mist around her, almost impossible to see through. Only the silhouette of the College showed through the fog like a beacon of light.

“Don’t you have nightmares?” Lucy asked when the mage didn’t say anything.

He shrugged. “Not anymore. But used to. They stopped when I hit my head pretty hard. Fell down the stairs in Labyrinthian.”

Lucy furrowed her brows in slight disbelief. “Sounds great,” she said, despite her doubts. He had a scar on his forehead that blended to his hairline, proving it had truly happened, but had he really lost his dreams? Somehow, Lucy struggled to believe it.

“Don’t try it,” Natsu chuckled, but switched the subject quickly. “But let’s try this. Grab your bow.” Lucy had noticed yesterday how he asked about her dreams but didn’t carry the conversation any further. Maybe he cared but didn’t know how to help. Maybe distracting her was his way to help.

The mage halted, prompting Lucy to do the same before he conjured a flame atronach ahead of them. A feminine figure made entirely from fire hovered above the ground, idly waiting for something to happen. Lucy didn’t really like where that was going. The last time Natsu had used his atronachs in training, he had pissed off a bear. Though there were no signs of bears in the mountain pass, Lucy didn’t want to encounter any more trolls. But she did as he told, reaching for her bow and arrows. ’I asked him to be my teacher, after all, so here goes...’

“Hold the bow in one hand and summon a familiar with your free hand. My flame guy will attack your wolf, and while they’re at it, you shoot at the atronach.”

Lucy released the bow from the straps and picked one arrow from the quiver. She gathered them in her right hand, careful not to drop them. Glancing over her shoulder, she checked if Erza was fine with their training. The warrior walked far behind them, but Lucy could still see the frown on her face. But Erza wouldn’t hit her if something happened, wouldn’t she?

“What if that thing attacks me after it’s done with my wolf?” she asked with a meek voice which made her realise her lack of confidence. A bad feeling churned in her stomach.

“I’ll banish it back to Oblivion before it can hurt you. Go ahead. Nothing will go wrong. I train with my atronachs all the time. It’s not like they mind some horseplay every now and then.”

Hesitantly, Lucy called for the wolf in her mind before collecting magic in her left hand. Building the connection to Oblivion was harder now, for half of her focus was on holding the bow. Purple light sparked on her palm, circling for a moment before she cast it in front of her. A gate formed from the light, letting an ethereal wolf enter the world. It barked as a greeting. ‘Is it the same familiar every time? Should I give it a name?’

“Go, Plue!” she shouted, pointing at the fire atronach. It was just a random name, but she liked how it sounded. Upon her command, the wolf bolted forward. With her hand freed, she nocked an arrow and drew the string to her cheek. She was growing used to the strength the bow required, but it gave her very little time to aim until her arm tired. Lucy released, and missed her target miserably.

“Plue?” Natsu wondered while he looked at the wolf. The beast grabbed the atronach’s arm between its jaws, fangs tearing into the flames.

Lucy ignored Natsu’s comment as she grabbed another arrow. Realising she had forgotten her stance, she positioned her feet and prepared to draw. She released. The string gave a vigorous slap on her arm, but the arrow found the atronach’s chest. The floating creature spun around from the impact, and the happy rush of success made Lucy forget the pain.

Lucy stole a glance at Natsu. He leaned his weight on his left leg with hands shoved in pockets, seeming a bit too relaxed, considering they were training with Daedric creatures. Starting to draw another arrow, she heard her wolf’s whimpers as the atronach shot a fireball at it. Her fingers turned sloppy, and the arrow slipped from her hands as her familiar was caught in an explosion.

“Damn,” she mumbled, lowering her gaze to see the arrow at her shoes.

Right before she crouched to pick it up, the mage shouted, “Watch out!” and swooped at her, pushing her out of a fireball’s way with his body. She dropped the bow, shielding her face with her hands. The fireball exploded right where she had just been, and Lucy screamed as the pressure wave threw them further into the snow.

Lucy peeked through her fingers as Natsu rolled back on his feet to restore his balance. The flame atronach swung its arm back, ready to throw another fireball at her. He stood up to protect her from the angered Daedra.

“Bad flame boy, bad!” he yelled and banished the creature with a snap of his fingers. The purple gate appeared again and sucked in the atronach, then it was gone.

Lucy exhaled heavily, her racing heartbeat slowly starting to calm down. ‘I should’ve listened to my guts,’ she thought. Natsu turned around, his face flushing white as he saw the Companion behind them. From his mere expression, Lucy could tell Erza wasn’t happy.

“Sorry!” Natsu shouted at the warrior, like she was the one who needed an apology. A long, scary silence was her answer, enough to let the two know the training was over for today.

Lucy helped herself back to her feet, wiping the snow off her leathers. She stared at the mage under her brows as she collected her bow, glad to see it wasn’t damaged. “Sorry about that,” Natsu finally mumbled as he noticed Lucy’s blaming glare.

“You’re the worst teacher ever,” Lucy muttered under her breath while securing the bow back to her back.

Natsu just cocked his head, grinning. “Told you so.”

Lucy smirked, about to answer, but Erza’s stern voice interrupted her.

“Alright, fools, look at those pillars,” the warrior pointed forward with her sword.

Lucy tilted her head to see two tall columns framing the road, forming a gateway between the mountain walls. Built by the ancient Nords, their pillar tops were carved in the shape of an eagle’s head. “We’ll be in Rift soon enough. We’ll be stopping at the abandoned alchemist’s shack by the road, but only briefly. We’ll be in Ivarstead at nightfall if we hurry.”

Lucy’s eyes brightened. An alchemist’s shack? She hoped there would be books of alchemy she could read or even a lab she could test. She had collected some mountain flowers and snowberries, maybe she could make a potion from them. Natsu would surely help her. He had his own way of doing things, but Lucy had a feeling he wasn’t as bad as she let him know. Alchemy couldn’t be as dangerous as playing with atronachs.

“Let’s keep going, then,” Natsu said, adjusting his backpack before running downhill. Lucy followed him, and when she passed below the stone pillars, the tightness in her throat eased. They were out of the mountains, and still alive. The thought of a warm bed kept her going through the exhaustion. If everything went right, they could spend the next night in an inn.

Only if everything went right.

Erza sighed when her travelling companions began their alchemy experiments like two small, overjoyed children. That’s how she referred to them in her mind, children she had to watch over. She had promised to escort them through the mountain route, and she was glad to have kept that promise. The trolls would have been the girl’s undoing, at least, if not the mage’s too. And now, when the mountains were already behind them, Erza was unsure what to do next.

The alchemist’s shack was a small, run-down house, providing very little shelter with glassless windows and a broken roof. Gladly, the weather was pleasant and warm. Sun shone from a cloudless sky, enchanting the autumn colours all around them. There was a garden behind the building. An alchemy lab stood next to the wooden wall, already occupied by a curious girl and her haphazard teacher.

If she left them on their own, Erza doubted they would make it to the College. It was her job to protect and help the people of Skyrim. Leaving them on their fates would be against her morals. Even though she preferred to travel alone, it was no longer safe. Bears and trolls and bandits she could fight, but what about a dragon? What would her sword alone do to a flying, overgrown lizard? Those two had more experience about dragons than her. She had never even seen one. They had, and lived to tell about it.

Maybe she should stick with them a little longer so she could live through it, too.

Their jubilant chatter faded as Erza withdrew into her thoughts. She leaned against a birch and raised her eyes to the sky, wiping her bright red hair from her face. While her female fellows kept their hair tightly braided, Erza liked to keep hers free most of the time. She only braided it when she knew she was going to a battle. Seeing the crimson strands on the edges of her vision reminded her of the one who added ’Scarlet’ to her name.

Jellal.

Her original plan had been to reach the alchemist’s shack yesterday evening and spend the night there. For particular reasons, she had fallen behind her travel schedule, but gladly the meeting was arranged for this afternoon anyway. She wasn’t running late yet. He didn’t appreciate any delays, or worse, misses. If Erza’s schedule was tight, his was a killer.

Assassins were busy these days.

“I’ll be gone for a moment,” Erza said, her words going for deaf ears. “And please, do not destroy anything.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the mage mumbled as he crammed more mountain flowers into the distiller. Lucy didn’t even hear her as Natsu continued to tell about the properties of their chosen ingredients.

Erza shrugged, quickly turning away. Due to certain conflicts between their ways of life, Jellal and her had appointed several different meeting places all across Skyrim. The shack was one of them, but they had a backup place in case the first had any extra pairs of eyes nearby. And there were almost always extra eyes. How much she hoped she could just bring him to Jorrvaskr, introduce him to her friends, take him to her bed, but no. That jus couldn’t happen.

Erza belonged to the Circle, a faction of the Companions consisting of the highest-ranking and the most respected members of the guild. What would they think if they’d know the occupation of the man her heart has chosen long ago? But as a Circle member, she had grown used to having some secrets.

Her ’troll check’ last night had been only a cover. Jellal’s conjured owl worked as their courier, and she had gone outside just in case the bird would appear. It was a habit she had formed past the years, even though Jellal didn’t send letters too often. But when he did, it made her happy, despite having to burn the letters immediately after reading them. One time Aela caught her in the night at Skyforge and asked why she was smiling. Erza had lied, answering that her childhood friend from Cyrodiil sent her a letter. Jellal had told his parents he’d be off to the Imperial City when he left home nearly a decade ago. That’s where they still believed their son was.

They had been in contact a fortnight ago when Erza had found and brought the Dragonstone to Farengar, Whiterun’s court wizard. As Farengar had deemed, the Dragonstone was a map of the ancient dragon burial mounds. The court wizard had been studying the dragon lore for the past few years, but until this day it had been hit-and-miss. A hint of a treasure hidden in Bleak Falls Barrow got his study moving. He had needed a brute to go search for it, and Erza picked the job mostly for her own reasons. Or, Jellal’s reasons. He had his own investigation going on as well, and Erza trusted him more capable to solve the mysteries of dragons.

Erza had informed Jellal of the discovery and sent him a copy of the map. He had a contract in Riften around that time, and he told he’d check the burial sites of that area before heading back home. Erza had planned to go straight to Kynesgrove’s mound after completing another job, but the plan changed when she had been returning to Whiterun, a late evening on the 17^th of Last Seed.

The city gates had been closed, and she almost had to bribe her way past the guards. The word spread like wildfire. Ravens had been sent all across Skyrim to carry the message that Helgen had burned to the ground. Not due to the civil war, but due to a dragon. Erza had sensed the panic in the air, as if the entire country was holding her breath.

Jellal had contacted her the same night, asking her to change her route. She had immediately began a journey towards Helgen to look for any clues, and meet him before going to Kynesgrove. Clues she had found indeed, the most important of them being the fire wizard and his newfound apprentice, who’d witnessed it all with their own eyes.

An autumn wind swayed the trees around her as she walked across the forest. Colourful leaves rained down, dancing in a whirl before covering the grass. Erza stopped briefly to inhale the calming, earthy smell. It reminded her of harvest. She let her eyes soak in the beauty of nature as little birds chirped their song on the branches above her. Finally, a moment of peace.

The meeting place was near a giant’s kettle off the road, sheltered behind spruce at least a century old. Her heart raced in her chest and butterflies fluttered in her stomach the closer she got. While their relationship was full of hardships, the anticipation of a new meeting felt always as precious. A silent scoff of a horse sounded in the air, sending shivers down Erza’s spine.

In the tree’s shades sat a man in dark robes. A black, noble stallion stood behind him, scooping the ground with its hoof. Jellal’s head tilted slightly towards her as she appeared, his features hiding under a large hood. He didn’t greet her. It wasn’t his style.

“Who were those?” he asked.

Erza pinched her brows. As she had guessed, he had been watching them. Jellal was a person who could see everyone while no one could see him. Nobody in the village had wanted to play hide-and-seek with him when they were kids. If he was the seeker, he found everyone immediately. If he was the hider, he stayed hidden until nightfall, and her father had to go calling for him to come back home.

“Survivors from Helgen,” Erza answered as she sat down on a rock next to him. “They’re on their way to Winterhold. I escorted them through the mountain pass.”

Jellal nodded, not giving any further questions.

“Ironic, isn’t it. A dragon appears when we make the first significant discovery. And how come it be… the burial sites of the east were all empty.”

“Empty?”

He lifted his gaze from the glacial pothole to her, revealing the tattoo around his right eye. It had adorned his face since early childhood. Growing up in the small village of Rorikstead, he had always gained a lot of attention for his tattoo, as well as his bright-blue hair. Now, he made sure those prominent features stayed in the shades. Only a single blue strand showed under his hood.

“Yes. It wasn’t just a single dragon. There are more of them now. As the prophecy says, the dragons are coming back to life. Something is bringing them back. But I have no idea what that could be. There’s no conjurer in this land capable of raising a dragon from the dead.”

When she had been a child, an elder of their village had told them the story of the world’s end. The prophecy had occupied Jellal’s mind since childhood. While it had intrigued him, it had frightened her. Back in the wheat fields of Rorikstead, when the folklore of an impending apocalypse had scared Erza out of her wits, Jellal had promised her that wouldn’t happen. He’d keep her safe even if he had to stand in between her and the one trying to end the world.

Her heart had clung to that promise all these years.

“I thought so,” Erza whispered grimly, recalling the conversation she had with Natsu and Lucy the day before yesterday. “And with no Dragonborn around, we have no hope to defeat them.”

Jellal’s eyes grew grim. He had Imperial ancestry, and very little faith in Nord legends, or according to his own words, Nord nonsense. Despite being raised by his family, Erza never abandoned the beliefs of her people. In ancient Nord lore, the Dragonborn was a mortal man born with the blood and the soul of a dragon. Able to absorb a slain dragon’s soul, the Dragonborn was the only one who could permanently kill a dragon.

“We don’t know that yet. Anyone could be a Dragonborn without knowing. Even you, dear.”

The man chuckled. “I doubt that. What matters is that the dragons are real, and there will be more of them. Who knows if the skies will be swarming with dragons soon? Now that they are real, we need to find a way to slay them. That’s our next step.”

Erza shook her head, trying to cast away the image of a thousand dragons covering the sun.  “Don’t you want to know what the survivors had to say?” Erza asked. “They might know something important.”

“Those kids? All I need to know is that there was complete devastation. It will be the fate of every city and settlement if we can’t stop whatever is going on. Nothing but ashes will remain of the world as we know it.”

The warrior zoned out for a moment, staring into the pothole in front of them. There was water on the bottom of it, glimmering in the sunlight. Fear strangled her throat, but she swallowed her childhood nightmare, clinging to their mutual decision to prevent that from becoming reality.

Erza raised her eyes to Jellal’s. “What’s our next step?”

“The burial mounds have been emptied in a systematic order, at regular intervals of time. If my calculations are correct, the next would be Kynesgrove. Whatever is happening to the dragons, you should find out there. Be sure to report me as soon as you get to know.”

She nodded.

“Where are you going now?”

“Home, to receive my payment,” Jellal answered, evoking bitterness in Erza’s heart, knowing he’d never call Rorikstead his home again. “So many contracts, so little time...”

Erza smirked. “You have people to kill, my dear. Best get to it.”

There was no changing him. Even though she sometimes hoped Jellal would have joined the Companions like her, she couldn’t blame him in the end. Jorrvaskr wasn’t a place for a man so extraordinary as him.

The warrior snifled, the fast departure making her emotional. And with that sniff, she smelled something burning. Jellal noticed that too.

“What’s that smoke?” Jellal asked. Erza turned her head towards the direction it came from. The alchemist’s shack was that way.

“Un–fucking–surprising,” she cursed and stood up. She gave a quick kiss on Jellal’s cheek, and left running. After a few steps, she looked back, her heart sinking to her stomach.

Jellal was already gone.

A/N: The stone gate, scenery in the Rift and the Alchemist's Shack!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

I tried doing Erza’s POV to get some variety and depth to the story. It's time to dive into the lore before shit gets real. Got a little glimpse of Jellal, too! Natsu and Lucy are just messing around as usual, but I think they'll start to get more serious too, soon. Otherwise, this story will be just going from one trouble to the second. There will be a few more peaceful chapters after this before the first major turning point in the story.

Thanks for every comment and kudos, all feedback has made me really happy <3

Chapter Text

“You blew up the fucking lab!”

“You told me to put more snowberries into it!”

“I didn’t mean that much!”

“You obviously weren’t clear enough!”

Lucy jumped back sparks flew from the smoking alchemy lab. Shatters of green glass lay on the ground, as the dish had exploded from the excess steam building up inside of it. Natsu had intended to brew a potion of frost resistance from snowberries and mountain flowers, but the warming components had overheated. A cloud of black smoke rose from the remains of the table, the wind blowing it deeper into the forest.

“Gods…” Lucy sighed, coughing the smoke from her lungs. “You know any water or ice magic then, genius? We really gotta fix this before Erza comes back.”

Natsu crossed his arms on his chest, staring into the flames with a grin. “Who do you think I am? Gray? And it’s not like she’ll come back yet. She probably went to take a dump, and she can’t get out of her amour that fast –”

One spark cast a small flame on the dry grass. With her heart racing, Lucy stepped on it, something it before it could spread. “Ugh, quit it! Just put down the fire! You’re the wizard here!”

The mage rolled his eyes and grunted. While Lucy viewed the accident as a minor catastrophe, Natsu didn’t seem too bothered about it. If his eyes weren’t already blacked, Lucy would have hit him, too. His recklessness had started to get on her nerves today.

“Natsu!” Lucy shouted and kicked him closer to the flames, urging him to solve the mess.

Natsu lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, fine, calm down, just let me –”

“I LEFT YOU BRATS ALONE FOR FIVE – DAMN – MINUTES!”

Lucy shrieked, her eyes widening as the warrior emerged from the forest. Even Natsu was startled, he opened his mouth in shock to form some words of defence. Erza didn’t give him a chance to explain as she marched to them, bustling in choler and frustration.

“How can you be this careless… By Ysmir, step away, now!” she yelled. Erza tore the waterskin from Natsu’s belt and poured it on the smothering lab.

“Hey, that’s my water –”

“Shut up! Lucy, give me yours, too.”

Lucy handed her waterskin to the warrior without a second’s hesitation. Gladly, it was enough to put out the flames before it would turn into a full-blown wildfire. Why didn’t they realise they had water attached to their goddamn belts? They had just stood there like two children after a backfired prank. Lucy’s shoulders tensed as Erza grabbed the mage from his hood, pulling him inside the shack. ’I’ve seen this before...’ she thought, a bad feeling building up in her chest.

“What’s … what is wrong with you!?” Erza yelled at him, the wooden walls mildly muffling her voice. The frustrated stutter revealed she was losing her composure. Gritting her teeth, Lucy pressed her nails into her palms as she listened, unable to do anything else. “Are you actually this stupid? Did your… did your mother drop you as a baby or something!?”

Natsu lifted his shoulders, the damned smirk not leaving his lips. “Maybe? I mean, I can’t remember...”

She had been in a situation like this many times in her childhood. Her friend, the lumberjack’s son named Loke always took the scapegoat’s role whenever they did something stupid together. Like the time when they fed nails to the chickens. It had been Lucy’s stupid idea, but Loke claimed it as his fault, saving her from the trouble. Torolf, Loke’s father was usually a laid-back and funny man, but there was nothing funny when Lucy listened outside as his yelling echoed all across Helgen.

‘Are they even alive anymore?’ Lucy wondered by herself. She had seen Loke running past the store that morning, but she had no idea if they made it out of Helgen. If Lucy remembered right, their house had been set bright aflame. A lump formed in her throat, so she shook her head to cast the memory away from her mind.

Erza didn’t appreciate the mage’s playfulness a single bit. “You’re going to get her killed!” she shouted, making him wince. She was serious, and wanted him to know it. “I – I can’t supervise you all the fucking time, and when I turn my eyes for a goddamn second, you’ve already gotten her into danger!”

The mage cocked his head. “Hey, it’s not like she’s a damsel in distress. Man, the first time she held an axe, she shoved it into a bandit chief’s skull. She can –”

“She’s… she’s not like your friend, Natsu! Not someone you can just mess around with! Where’s that Igneel fella now anyway? Did you get him killed, too? “

Lucy gulped as silence fell. Her gaze moved from the smouldering alchemy lab to the open, glassless window. Distress strangled her heart when she found the mage. Natsu stared down with his hands clenched into tight fists. Igneel had been there too when Erza and Natsu had first met years ago – and Erza had no idea what had happened to him Helgen.

“I’m right, am I?” Erza asked, lacking the tiniest bit of compassion. “Get a damn grip, mage. You said you can protect her, but you clearly can’t! You can barely look after yourself. You’re the worst possible company for her. She deserves better than being dragged to an early grave by you!”

Natsu raised his head to face Erza’s blaming stare, and Lucy flinched. Anger sparkled in his eyes like fiery embers. Lucy stepped back, afraid of the mage’s answer, already knowing it would be bad. She hadn’t seen him like this before. The whole man changed into a choleric, blazing vessel of rage, as if he’d turn into a flame atronach himself. His fists shivered as he tried to keep from exploding.

“I should take you to the Jarl, after all,” the warrior scoffed. “He’ll know better what to do with you, because I don’t fucking know. I’ve had enough.”

Natsu shoved away the armoured hand about to grab his robes again. “Get off me, bitc… beast!” he spat out as all his respect for her began to slip away.

Erza glared at him as he backed away, fully aware of what he intended to say. She reached for her sword when the first flames sparked in Natsu’s hands, ready to clash with him once again. Except that this time they wouldn’t be fighting with their bare fists.

“You want to get rid of me?” Natsu asked, his voice scarily low. “Why bother the busy Jarl? Do it yourself, o’ honourable Companion.”

Erza drew a part of her sword out of the seath, as the last warning to not cross her lines. Instead of intimidating the mage into submission, it agitated his anger. Lucy raised her hands over her mouth. Neither of them seemed to remember she was there watching.

“It’s a part of my job to track down escaped criminals and bring them to face the law, but if there’s resistance, I’m permitted to kill them,” the Companion told, ignoring the mage’s mock. “As a Helgen survivor, you’re too valuable to waste like that, but too dangerous to be left free to wander and lead innocent maidens at death’s door.”

Natsu grinned, still not admitting his fault. “Did you fucking forget what I’ll tell them if you arrest me?”

Erza sighed and drew out her sword. “You’ve committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. What say you in your defence?”

Lucy cringed in shock. Could she be that serious? Guards used that line when they arrested people, giving the person one last chance to make up for their mistake. The options were scarce. You could go to jail, pay off your bounty, or die at the guard’s sword. Lucy didn’t know if what Natsu had said was true, but if it was, Erza would be a fool.

The grin left the mage’s face. “I’d rather die than go to prison,” he said, enveloping his fists in flames.

’I have to step in before someone gets hurt.’

“Stop it, both of you!” Lucy shouted as she rushed to the shack, causing their heads to tilt towards her. “It was my fault! I told him to add more snowberries into it, and it overboiled! Please, don’t hurt each other!”

She panted heavily for she had held her breath since Erza mentioned Natsu’s friend. The mage and the warrior stared at her, their clash interrupted. Flames died in Natsu’s hands, but Erza was the first to open her mouth.

“Don’t you realise how much trouble this mage has given you already? If you want to go to the College, let me escort you there. I –”

Lucy shook her head rapidly. “No!”

“He’s a criminal, Lucy,” Erza said and glanced at the mage. “I made a mistake trusting he would’ve changed, but so did you if you saw him in the execution line. Why’d you ever stick with him? Do you even know why he was going to the block?”

“I would have died if not for him!” Lucy raised her voice, afraid to stand against the Companion she respected so much. This time, she just could not stand back and watch them fight over such a stupid thing. “He saved me that day. He might have broken a few laws, but he’s not a bad man!”

“I don’t want you to end up dead, like his –”

“The damn Imperials killed his friend! I watched as they chopped his head off, so shut up about that already!”

Lucy saw from the corner of her eye as Natsu shuddered, turning his face away. He stared at the alchemist’s storage cabinets as if the dried leaves and flowers suddenly became the most interesting thing in his world.

“I just… I just want all of us to get along. I… I hate it when my friends fight!”

As warm drops rolled down her cheeks, she realised she was crying. Natsu turned towards her, eyes suddenly wide, the anger in him switched into something Lucy couldn’t understand. Erza let go of the hilt of her sword, her tension erasing as she reached for Lucy. Lucy closed her eyes, feeling a hand of cold steel touching her shoulder. Fading steps sounded in the room as Natsu left the shack, driven away by her tears.

“I… I can’t join the College if… if I can’t use any magic… So I asked him to… teach me,” Lucy spoke between her quiet sniffles as she tried to hold her emotions back. “I… I really… want to be… a mage, so please… do not arrest him, or…”

“Lucy, it’s okay. I... overreacted,” Erza consoled, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s okay now.”

Something rattled outside the shack. Lucy realised it was Natsu, picking up his stuff in haste. “Where’s… where’s he going?” she wondered in worry. She didn’t want him to leave yet, not until everyone’s spirits had been lifted. Fights left a hollow, heavy feeling in her chest until the quarrel had been reconciled.

The mage said nothing, so Erza called his name. “Natsu?”

“Off to Ivarstead,” he answered from a distance. He was already on his way.

“We’ll see you there. I hope you’ve calmed down by then.”

“Whatever.”

Lucy wanted to tell him to stay, but knew it would be a bad idea. He needed a moment to rewind far from Erza. Maybe a little time separated would be better for both of them. Lucy had already trained enough for the day. Wiping her face, she collected herself. Though she hated when people around her fought, being the mediator was exhausting.

Erza led Lucy out of the shack to catch some fresh air. “I thought I’d scare some sense into his head, but kinda it backfired.”

“Kinda? You pissed him off bad time,” Lucy sighed as she sat down on the grass. She glanced at the alchemy lab, pitying its fate. Many travelling alchemists had used it appropriately before them, but now it was no use to anyone.

“I can’t let him destroy everything he touches. This can’t continue. He has to learn some discipline. Self-discipline, to be exact.”

Lucy muffled a chuckle, knowing it would be easier to teach a goat to dance than teach Natsu to behave. “You really should apologise to him,” she said. “Bringing up his friend was tasteless, even though you didn’t know he has died.”

Erza sighed. “I know.”

Something else than a smoking alchemy lab had upset her first. Lucy knew Erza would have just ignored their mess unless something was already bothering her. However, she didn’t want to seem too curious. Erza would tell her once she’d trust her enough.

“He would have won that fight,” Erza admitted after a moment of silence. “I can beat him in a brawl, but what can I do against his magic? What can steel do fire? Nothing. And what could my sword do to a fire-breathing dragon? Less than nothing. Even though most of us Nords won’t admit it, we need people like him. We have to fight fire with fire.”

A flash of memories entered Lucy’s mind. Erza’s face faded into the flames and smoke and flying stone. Screams of terror and agony echoed in her head once again, making her legs tremor in fear. She still remembered the unreal feeling striking through her heart when the dragon’s shade covered the entire plaza as it flew by. Gods, let this be only a nightmare, everyone had thought, but reality grabbed that hope from the throat and laughed. Yes, a real nightmare.

Fighting fire with fire? The dragon had landed on the watchtower, and that insanely brave idiot had shot a fireball at it. And what had it done? Nothing.

“What can humans even do to a dragon?” Lucy whispered, hearing her own voice as if it sounded under the water. Slowly, the flames turned into autumn leaves as she returned to the present moment. Her eyes locked with Erza. She hadn’t answered her question. Lucy focused on her face, pushing memories from Helgen aside. Was Erza shivering?

The warrior turned away, leaving the question lingering in the air.

“We should get moving,” Erza said. “We’ll be in Ivarstead before him if we leave now.”

Lucy found no words to express her gratitude when she and Erza had reached Ivarstead.

It had been an early evening when the sun hid behind the Throat of the World. The townsfolk finished their daily tasks and headed home, the lone street that passed through the village almost crowded with people. Seeing a glimpse of a normal life brought Lucy’s heart to peace. Life carried on as usual outside Helgen’s ruins. The dragon hadn’t destroyed every settlement in Skyrim.

Yet.

Vilemyr Inn was almost empty when they stepped in. The innkeeper called Wilhelm had been surprised to hear they were just passing through. Usually, the inn served as a rest stop for pilgrims, but Lucy had no interest in climbing those steps. All she wanted was a warm bath, warm food, and a warm bed – and all of them she got.

There was a smoke sauna behind the inn’s main building, standing by the river. It was warmed once a week, and luckily today was the day. All Lucy and Erza would have to do by themselves was to carry the water from the river and boil it in the hot pot. Using it cost them some extra, but Lucy was happy to spend that gold. For five septims they got a room with two beds and permission to use the sauna for the whole evening if they wanted.

Lucy released the bow from her back before taking off the backpack. Even though she didn’t have many belongings, carrying it the whole day made it feel like it was filled with iron ingots. She straightened her back as she dropped her things on top of a chest, and then she collapsed on the bed, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The fur blanket upon a hay mattress welcomed her into a soft, warm embrace.

“By Kynareth, it feels so good to have a roof over my head,” Lucy said, closing her eyes for a moment as she floated in the relaxation spreading across her limbs. “And walls around me. And a bed. It’s true when they say you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.”

Lucy heard Erza on the other side of the room, placing her stuff in the chest. Her bag had been the largest and heaviest to carry, for she had the tent with her. However, she didn’t complain at all. She had to be used to having a lot of things with her when she travelled. The warrior’s armour clinked as she took it off.

“Enjoy yourself now,” Erza answered. “The next inn will be in Kynesgrove, and it’s a long way from here.”

Lucy rolled to sit on the edge of the bed. She averted her eyes as Erza slipped out of her linen underclothes and waited until the warrior dressed into a brown, belted tunic. Seeing her in a long dress felt strange to Lucy. Erza no longer looked like a warrior. Maybe even she would get out of her armour if she considered herself to be safe enough. Nothing bad would happen in a small lumbering village. At least Lucy hoped so.

Erza noticed Lucy’s quizzical gaze. “I have a spare tunic if you want to change after the sauna.”

Lucy kept staring at her in silence before she understood what Erza had said. She felt tired, as if she hadn’t slept in a week. Answering with a nod, she got up, preparing to make their way outside. She grabbed the linen towels and the dress Erza handed to her. It was a lot longer than her dresses had been, but Lucy didn’t mind. It would be more comfortable nightwear than leather armour.

Lucy stopped at the porch as she waited for the warrior to follow. She leaned against the wooden railing, looking to the bridge which was already being swallowed by blue twilight. Sadness carved a hole in her chest as she found the road empty.

‘What if Natsu won’t come?’

She had believed they’d meet in Ivarstead as he had said, but what if he had lied? He was supposed to be there already, but he had been so angry it was likely for him to just leave. What did he even gain for sticking with them and teaching her magic?

Nothing.

Erza patted her shoulder as she appeared. Lucy flinched a bit, awakening from her melancholic state. “He’ll come, eventually,” she consoled as if she read Lucy’s thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go, I’m dying for a bath.”

Lucy smiled shortly and tore her gaze from the bridge, then followed her.

The river gushed wildly as Natsu stopped at the stone bridge, the deafening sound of running water almost burying his thoughts.

The lights of Ivarstead fluttered in the night, torches moving in the dark as guards patrolled the street. He stood still, hesitating to step further. What if the guards knew his face? Ivarstead sided with the Stormloacks, but Natsu wasn’t sure where exactly he had collected his plentiful bounty. The gold he found in Embershard mine and Clavicus’s shrine could barely cover a fracture of that.

He had chewed a dried piece of meat for a while now, and was getting thirsty. Repeatedly stabbing a birch had been exhausting, but at the moment he hadn’t found a better way to channel his anger. Setting the entire forest on fire did cross his mind though. Natsu hoped he wouldn’t need his dagger anytime soon. The poor blade was ruined, all blunt and bent. If a man would have spoken to him the way Erza did, the steel would be covered in blood instead of tree sap.

For a moment Natsu had been sure he’d head right back to Winterhold, leaving those lovely ladies on their own. He wasn’t a teacher, no matter how much Lucy wanted him to be. She already knew enough to be accepted as an apprentice – she’d surely pass Mirajane’s, the Master Wizard’s, test. Conjuring a familiar was all she’d need to do to get in. But when Natsu had let out most of the steam, it dawned on him how sad Lucy would be if he’d just disappear without saying anything. Damn, she had followed him all the way to the forest just to bring him back to their camp. Natsu couldn’t overlook that, and so he decided to choose the road leading to Ivarstead instead of Winterhold.

Letting out a long, exhausted sigh, he finished his meal and walked across the bridge with his hood pulled over his head. He passed by the first guard with his breath ragging in nervousness. Igneel was a master of distracting the guards, always knowing the right words to say to get them out of trouble. Natsu shared none of that talent, so he hid behind silence.

“You a pilgrim or just passing through?”

Natsu winced as a man spoke to him. He halted and turned to the speaker, a guard leaning on a wooden wall of a house. A helm covered his face hiding his expression, but he sounded relaxed and friendly to Natsu. Torchlight danced on the guard’s armour, revealing the purple colours and the emblem of Riften.

“Just passing through,” Natsu answered, his voice dry and quiet. “Actually, I’m looking for an inn.”

The mage hadn’t visited Ivarstead too often. Maybe once or twice. The village was all about the High Hrothgar, for the seven thousand steps leading to the monastery started there. Natsu always thought it was insane to build a monastery on the top of the Throat of the World. The Greybeards, monks that lived there, didn’t seem too bright folk to him anyway. From what he had heard, they lived in absolute silence, attuning themselves to the voice of the sky – but when they spoke, storms brew above the High Hrothgar, and even the mountains shake.

The guard gave him a happy look. Pilgrims rarely brought any gold to the city, unlike visitors. “Ah, a tired traveller. Vilemyr Inn is right on the left. A few other travellers are stopping by, but I’m sure there’s a room available for you.”

“Thanks.”

A wave of relief washed over his tense body. First of all, the guard didn’t recognise him. He was also glad to hear of other travellers, who had to be Erza and Lucy – who else would they be? Though he wasn’t so happy about seeing Erza again, he was sure he could forgive her after a few good ales. Maybe he’d challenge her to a brawl to settle the score. A fair punch would be great.

Natsu nodded to the man as he headed towards the building on the left side of the road. He stopped in front of the inn’s porch and raised his head. The silhouette of the mountain contrasted against the starry sky. ‘Why would anyone even want to climb there?’ Natsu wondered. The monks took no visitors, and the monastery's doors were tightly locked. Maybe the pilgrims were insane, too.

When Natsu lowered his head before climbing the steps to the inn, he saw a small bundle sitting on the wooden stairs. It was hard to notice, for the black cloth blended into the darkness, but there was definitely a person. Natsu frowned. Why would someone be out there in the cold at this time of the day? More importantly, why would a child be out there, all alone?

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Natsu asked the kid.  “You should be at home.”

A boy’s face emerged from the shadows, young and pale. The corners of his mouth drew downward, forming a miserable curve. “I’m… I’m waiting for papa.”

Natsu knit his brows together as he fixed his heavy backpack. His legs ached from walking and he’d do anything to lay down in a bed, but first, he had to figure out what the child’s problem was. A missing dad? Surely nothing too serious. There was nothing else to do in this damned village than to drink all night.

“Is your papa in the inn? Should I go ask him to take you home?”

The boy shook his head.

“Is he working late?” Another headshake. “Does your mother know where he is?”

A quiet sniffle filled the night air. Natsu’s throat tightened.

“He… He promised he’d be back in a week… but he still hasn’t come...”

“Where did he go?”

“Papa said he’d… he’d go for a trip... and that he’d come back stronger… so strong he would lift three logs at once...”

Natsu didn’t consider himself a very smart man, but there were times when his mind connected details surprisingly fast. This was one of those times. Natsu’s heart dropped to his stomach as he realised what was going on. He fell speechless and just stared at the boy, not knowing at all what to do.

“I didn’t mean it… when I said he’s a weakling… for making me and mama do all the work while he’s out there drinking… I didn’t want him to leave us!”

The boy broke into tears. Natsu bit his lower lip. He sat down next to the boy, leaning his chin on his hands. If he barely handled it when women cried, he felt utterly helpless when the children wept. He didn’t want anyone to cry, but the comfort he offered usually made them feel worse. ‘Just how can I tell him what happened to his papa?’  he thought, and realised he couldn’t tell the truth to the small boy.

“Hey, uhm… Maybe your papa is out there training? It takes a long time before he can get strong enough to lift three logs at once. It might take a month or two or something.”

“But I miss him!”

“I know, I know, but…” Natsu paused to think, nervously scratching his neck. “When he comes back, he’s so strong you don’t have to work at all. He can do all the work for you. He probably thought about that when he left.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You just… You just wait patiently, I’m sure your papa is going to return, sooner or later.”

The boy looked down and smiled sadly. “I… I hope so...”

“What’s your name, boy?” Natsu asked.

“Romeo.”

“Okay, Romeo. Look, I’m a traveller. If I cross paths with your papa, I’ll tell him to hurry back. Is that okay? You should go home to your mother before you catch a cold.”

The boy nodded, wiping his eyes. Natsu patted the child on the back, urging him to rise. He smiled at the mage before running down the street, vanishing into the dark.

Natsu buried his face into his hands to mumble his curses. Now he had to bring the damn mutt back to the Clavicus to get the boy’s father back home. But how could he find a single dog? It could be anywhere in Skyrim, or even worse, it could have crossed the borders. Natsu slammed his fist on his thigh.

’I have to tell Erza and Lucy.’

Natsu rose and rushed inside the inn. A bald man stood behind the counter, his eyebrows rising as the newest customer made his entrance. Natsu greeted the innkeeper by quickly taking his hand to his temple. The tavern was empty, but he heard familiar voices coming from the room on the right. He listened closely, recognising Lucy’s laughter.

Natsu hurried to the room’s closed door, opened it and stepped in.

“Hey! I really have to tell you –”

“NATSU!”

Lucy screamed, covering her body with a linen towel. Water dripped from her fair hair, flowing down her bare skin. Natsu’s gaze stopped at the curve of her lower back. Stunned, he stood in the doorway, unable to finish his sentence. Erza sat on the other bed wearing a towel around herself, murderously staring at the mage.

“IDIOT! You can’t just burst into a ladies' room like that!” Lucy shrieked, squeezing her eyes closed and waving her arm towards him.

“But –”

“Get out!”

Awkwardly, Natsu stepped back and closed the door. Someone laughed behind him. The mage turned around, seeing the innkeeper hiding his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his amusement.

“What are you laughing at?” Natsu asked.

“Nothing,” he answered. “I can get you a room of your own. Welcome to Vilemyr Inn, traveller.”

Still not realising what he had done wrong, or what the man was laughing at, Natsu nodded. Maybe it was for the best. Natsu reached for the gold purse in his knapsack. It felt heavy enough, so he could easily afford his stay.

“Two gold for the room, five if you want to use the sauna. It’s free at the moment.”

A warm sauna sounded too good after the frigid wash he had yesterday. Natsu counted the septims and added some silver coins for food and ale. After he had paid, the innkeeper showed him to a small room. He left his belongings there and went back to the main hall to get the fresh ale he had been craving for days.

Natsu sat down at a table with this drink. Chatter and laughter echoed from the ladies’ room. He deemed they had had some good time while he was on his own. Though he hadn’t gotten a very warm welcoming from them, he was glad they all were in the same place again. It had been a surprisingly boring and lonely trip for him.

Halfway through his drink, the door opened. Lucy and Erza walked to the tavern, clad in long brown tunics. They both had braided their wet hair, looking strange to Natsu. He figured out they had been to the sauna before he arrived, their cheeks still red from the hot bath. Erza went to the counter to buy herself a drink while Lucy came to the mage, resting her arms on her hips.

“You really should learn to knock,” she said.

Natsu gulped his drink. “Looks like I’ve got a lot to learn lately.”

Lucy took a seat next to him and grabbed a loaf of bread from the basket on the table.

“What did you have to tell us?” she asked.

He had to gather his lost thought before answering. “The troll-man lives here in Ivarstead,” Natsu whispered, sure that the innkeeper wouldn’t hear. If an innkeeper knew something, it meant that the entire village would know too. “I met a boy who’s looking for his papa, and figured it out.”

Lucy’s brown eyes widened, glistening in the candlelight. The oversized tunic made her appear smaller than she was. “Really? Then we really have to find that dog. But it could be anywhere...”

Natsu nodded grimly. He could see in Lucy’s shrinking gesture how bad she felt for the boy. He felt terrible for that kid, too, but at least now he wouldn’t carry that alone. Together they would find that dog and return the man to normal. The Daedra didn’t ruin only the lives of the ones meddling with them, but the entire family as well.

The mage took another sip of his ale and heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. It was the warrior.

“Hey, Natsu,” Erza started shyly. “I’m sorry for what I said. And… Sorry for your loss.”

Natsu hadn’t expected her to apologise. Confused, he looked at Lucy, knowing she had to be behind that. “It’s okay,” he said, smiling shortly. The birch had absorbed most of his anger.

“Is there any way we can make this up?”

His lips twisted into a grin. This he had been waiting for. While his mind was fast to forget, his rib bones still sought revenge.

“Fight me.”

Erza blinked. “What?”

“Fifty septims says I knock your hide to the ground. Just fists. No weapons, no magic... no crying.”

That probably hadn’t been the reconciliation Lucy had hoped for. The blonde girl pinched her lips, sinking deeper into her chair. Natsu’s smirk kept widening.

“Well...” the warrior rubbed her chin, grinning. “It has been said that a true Nord never misses a chance to miss her worth...”

Natsu poured the rest of the ale into his mouth, rose and punched the Companion to the cheek. A loud slam echoed in the hall. Damn, it felt good.

There was an old Nord proverb Natsu always agreed with: the heat of battle was the fire which forged the strongest blades. And that night when he finally won Erza in a brawl he felt like the strongest man in the world.

A/N: Ivarstead's bridge and the inn

Chapter Text

I would have won that brawl if had my armour on.

It had been two days but the mage still wore that damned grin on his face every time he saw Erza. Or every time she spoke. Suddenly, his fear for her had faded, and she hadn’t decided if it was good or not. It was late afternoon, and he had already been training with Lucy for hours. Smirking insolently, he glanced over his shoulder before summoning a flame atronach. Erza sighed at the authority she had lost in Ivarstead.

The narrow path zigzagged down the mountain’s side. Erza could see all over the volcanic tundra of Eastmarch from there, opening vast and beautiful in front of her eyes. Erza was looking forward to a bath in the hot springs. She always stopped by whenever she was around the area. Nothing made her tired muscles more relaxed. The sabre cats who lived there made her nervous, though. And the giants with their mammoths. Most of the time the giants were peaceful, but she wasn’t sure if Natsu would hold back the urge to provoke them. Erza had seen what the giant’s club did to a man – it would surely send him flying up to the Secunda.

Erza walked behind those two, vaguely keeping an eye out for them. She was ready to call them out if needed, but at least for today, Natsu’s flames had stayed contained and Lucy’s arrows hadn’t hit anything or anyone except the trees. Maybe the mage had actually understood that a mentor was supposed to keep their apprentice alive. Erza wiped the scarlet locks from her face, gently smiling at the process Natsu had made. She still remembered him as he had been two years ago. He had been just a defiant and stubborn brat, but now he was slowly becoming a man.

The weather was pleasant, warm enough to let them pack their cloaks for the day. Sunlight glistened on the dim steel Erza was clad in. She would need to polish her armour once she’d get back to Whiterun, but in fact, she preferred her mail that way, old and dented. Soldiers who ran into a battle in their brand-new, shining armour seldom made it back. Her steel had seen many battles and taken many hits, and because of those dints and scapes, she always made it back to Jorrvaskar. The brawl with Natsu made her realise she wasn’t made of steel. Only her armour was.

Vilkas, her shield-brother always told her not to underestimate the little ones. They made up for in agility what they lacked in strength. Her confidence failed her this time. The mage had been stronger than he looked like, a lot stronger than two years ago – when she had worn her armour. She had forgotten how it felt like to be punched directly to the muscle with no steel suppressing the blow. Damn, her bruises still hurt. But the wound her pride suffered, that would heal so much slower. Losing a hundred gold was nothing, but to lose a fistfight to a skinny mage? Gods, she was so glad no-one from the Companions was there to witness her grand defeat.

Well, maybe now Natsu would stop whining about his rib-bones. Maybe it was more of a wound of his pride in the end, that debt now repaid.

A firebolt flew past her head. Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t bother to yell. She had kept a fair distance to those two and knew they wouldn’t see her disapproving frown. Lucy waved her hand as an apology. Barely hearing what the blonde said to the mage, Erza figured she gave him a lecture in her stead. The flame atronach disappeared back to Oblivion, and fireballs no longer flew, letting the journey continue in peace.

The two last days had been peaceful indeed. They had seen a sleeping sabre cat but managed to sneak past it. Otherwise, there had been no troubles on their road. Erza had agreed to escort them to Kynesgrove the morning they left Ivarstead. There they would part ways, but she was sure they would make it to Winterhold on their own from there. Lucy had already made great process. Her determination to become a mage shone through her, and she wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of her dream. Not even death.

Natsu and Lucy reached the road below and turned left, running to the bridge which crossed the river. Erza heard the waterfall roaring even from there. They had walked past many waterfalls of the Darkwater River, but the one which ended in White River was the most majestic of them all. Erza would allow them to adore it for a while until she’d climbed down the path, but then it would be time to go. She planned to spend the next night in Darkwater Crossing, a small mining settlement just by the river. Natsu fiercely opposed the idea, for it was the place where the Imperials had ambushed Ulfric Stormcloack. Erza had to convince him that the soldiers probably didn’t have any interest in capturing him again. Compared to a living dragon, a little mage couldn’t be high on their list of concern.

Erza jumped over the brook, setting her foot on the stone-covered road. She stretched her legs which ached from the long descent. A level surface to walk on was a welcomed change. Erza raised her eyes from the ground. A group of people clad in black robes approached on the other side of the bridge. The warrior pinched her brows together when one of them stopped next to Natsu. Erza saw his pointy elven ears through his long, black hair. From his ashen grey skin, she recognised him as a Dark Elf.

”Hey, what are you doing in my robes?” the man asked, his voice carrying all the way to Erza.

Smelling trouble, Erza walked closer to the bridge. Natsu let go of the railing, turning towards the approacher with a confused look on his face. Judging from the patterns in their robes they were elven necromancers. Erza counted two women and one man, making three of them altogether.

”What?” Natsu asked.

The elf took a closer look at his clothes, clearly making the mage nervous. ”Those are definitely my spare robes. And that silver around her neck is mine, too.”

Lucy stepped behind Natsu when the man’s bright red eyes found her jewel. Erza grabbed the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it in case they turned hostile.

”Well, finders, keepers”, Natsu hissed. ”Creep.”

The Dark Elf’s presence filled with resentment. Erza stopped where the bridge began to keep a distance. Mages were unpredictable for the level of their skills couldn’t be seen from the outside. Some of their robes showed their ranks, but Erza was unfamiliar to the mage’s code of hierarchy.

”I’m not going to let you walk away with my stuff, thief.”

Natsu frowned. ”Wait, I’d just give these robes back to you right now, right here? You really want to see me naked that bad?” He stepped closer to the elf and grinned wickedly. ”I bet you’d get scared of my huge -”

”Quit it, Natsu!” Lucy cut him off, squeezing her eyes closed. She grabbed Natsu’s sleeve and pulled him away from the elf. ”I’m sorry, I’m sure there’s a way to settle this thing without violence. You can have this amulet back, but can you please let him keep the robes? Deal?”

The Dark Elf stepped back, raising his eyebrows. ”Natsu?”

”You know me?”

”You’re Natsu of Dragonbridge?”

Erza let her sword go as the tension in the air vanished. Those were the necromancers from Clavicus Vile’s shrine, and it unsettled her that they knew him.

Natsu leaned to the railing again, but his fists were still clenched in tight fists. ”Yeah, what about it?”

”Damn, I didn’t recognise you. You’ve grown so much”, the Dark Elf said, spreading his arms. ”I don’t expect you to remember me. You had just joined when I left the College.”

The two women, both Wood Elves, exchanged confused gazes. Erza kept an eye out for them, but they didn’t seem hostile either. It was still better to be safe than sorry. Even if that man was from the College, it didn’t mean he could be trusted. In her books, no-one from the College could be trusted by default.

Natsu stared at him, clearly failing to recognise him. ”And you are…?”

”Felrys, Igneel’s older cousin”, the elf introduced himself, making Natsu’s eyes widen. ”How strange. I had a bizarre dream about him just recently. It has been years since we last met. How’s he doing now?”

Erza bit her lip as Natsu’s head fell down in silence. She had experienced the rawness of that wound very personally. Unlike that time, no anger gleamed in his eyes and no flames sparked in his fists. Lucy hadn’t let go of his sleeve, and Erza had a feeling she helped him remain calm. He wouldn’t let his feelings explode around Lucy.

The Dark Elf’s mouth opened, shock and sorrow creeping up to his face. When Natsu finally spoke, the silence had lasted long enough to let him know what happened to Igneel.

”He’s dead”, he whispered, quiet as a breath of wind. ”Imperials executed him in Helgen a week ago.”

Felrys flinched as if he had hoped to hear something better. Reality had a tendency to crush such hopes, at least in dark times like this. ”Sheogorath’s beard… Azura bless his soul”, he offered condolences, his gaze falling to the ground.

”Yeah.”

”Did you give him to the fire?”

Erza felt cold shivers running down her spine. In Helgen she had seen how the mage cremated a corpse and smashed the wooden block with an axe, but she hadn’t even batted an eye for it. She should have realised he had lost someone important instead of reacting with such indifference.

Natsu nodded. ”Yes, I burned him so he might return to the ash from whence he came.”

Felrys gave him a small bow as thanks. Burning the dead was a Dunmer funeral custom. They believed that death was not the end, but a beginning.

”Come to think of it, I borrowed some things from him a long time ago”, Felrys told, his words shivering from the lingering grief. ”I was supposed to return them, but never got a chance. Would you take them now, and at least bring them back to the College?”

Natsu looked at Felrys, thinking for a moment before he nodded again.

”I got nothing to remember him from. I’d gladly take them.”

”That’s good. We were going to check our fish traps in the river. Would you want to come with us to our settlement in Fort Amol? I’d want to have a memorial of sort for my dear cousin. Let us raise a toast for his memory?”

The mage smiled sorrowfully. However, Erza did not like that. She stepped forward, finally making them notice her. Her plan was absolute and not to be disrupted.

”Thank you, but we were going to -”

”Okay”, Natsu spoke over her. ”We’ll come.”

”But -”

”You go to that Crapwater Crossing if you want, I’m not setting my foot on that Imperial ambush. I’m going. What about you, Lucy?”

Meekly, the blonde glanced at the warrior. Erza could tell it from her eyes that she wanted to go with him.

”I’ll… I’ll come, too.”

Erza sighed and crossed her arms on her chest. If those two would go, it meant she had to go too. She wouldn’t let them go alone.

”That sounds great. Wait on this bridge, we’ll come back in a second”, Felrys said and gestured towards the Wood Elves. Then they set forth and quickly disappeared from the road. When they were gone, Erza walked to Natsu, not hiding her disapproval.

”Did you actually get us into a necromancer’s party?” Erza asked. The mage turned his back at her to gaze into the waterfall, his retort buried under the gush.

---

Despite being a memorial, the mood in the dining hall was rather high.

Fort Amol was a traditional Nordic stronghold with a courtyard in the center, surrounded by two main buildings. The prison was said to be plagued by skeevers, but the main keep was clear of that problem. It had been abandoned for years until the group of necromancers claimed it theirs. If not counting a brief visit to the barracks in the ruined Helgen keep, Lucy had never been in a castle. And she wasn’t very impressed.

Lucy sat tight on the bench next to Natsu, locking her eyes on the bowl in front of her. The mages served fresh fish soup with bread, wine and ale. She enjoyed the meal, but the company wasn’t what she had expected. Dozens of stories about magic were told, but she didn’t have a single word to add to the conversation. They spoke of spells and enchantments and it all was like a foreign language Lucy couldn’t understand. Feeling such an outsider she sank into silence, staring at the mages under her brows.

A Wood Elf woman sat opposite to them, leaning her elbows to the table. Lucy had seen her on the bridge earlier but didn’t remember her name. She didn’t speak much either, but her dreamy elven eyes fixated to the pink-haired mage. Natsu didn’t even notice, for he was too focused on sharing stories with Igneel’s cousin and his friends. Lucy had lost count how many tankards of ale he had emptied. Natsu had told about how he fell down the stairs of Labyrinthian at least three times already, marking he had a little more than enough to drink.

”… when Igneel got really, reeally drunk, he started to... to see dwarves. He shouted ’I saw a dwarf! I did! I did!’ in the middle of a goddamn city.” Natsu broke into laughter. ”And I yelled ’No, sorry, no dwarf!’ when people stared at us...”

Lucy heard how alcohol made him stammer, changing his voice to something she no longer recognised. Back in Ivarstead, he had only taken an ale or two with absolutely no effect. Being around him when he was drunk felt like being around a stranger. With loneliness building up in her chest, she finished her meal and excluded herself. He didn’t notice when she left the table.

Lucy walked to the corner of the hall where the chatter and laughter faded. Bookshelves leaned to the stone walls inviting her to take a better look. A torch on the wall gave warm, soft light, just enough for her to read. Books never failed to bring her comfort.

Lucy traced her finger across the backs of the books, reading their names. Ancestors and the Dunmer, Azura and the Box, Battle of Sancre Tor, Darkest Darkness… When she was sure she wouldn’t find anything interesting to read, her finger stopped at a certain book. A lump formed in her throat. A Dream of Sovngarde. It was a Nord soldier’s account of visiting the afterlife in a dream. Her parents had a copy of that book at home. She had read it a few times before. Lucy opened the book and skimmed through the pages, searching for the one specific part which had imprinted in her memory forever.

The writer was about to die in a few hours so he prayed for Talos to get some encouragement. His prayers were answered when sleep carried him to Sovngarde. He had crossed a great bridge made of whale-bone and entered the Hall of Valor, meeting the greatest heroes of all Nords. There he had found Ysgamor, the father of Skyrim. He asked for his council for his heart was full of fear in front of the desperate battle he was going to face. Ysgamor had raised his tankard to his lips and drank until it was empty. Then he spoke again, and Lucy found the part she was looking for.

"Remember this always, son of the north - a Nord is judged not by the manner in which he lived, but the manner in which he died."

The words had brought her comfort and courage when she read them as a child. Her great-grandmother Anna had died in a battle, so Lucy believed her soul had travelled to Sovngarde. Lucy dreamt of becoming a hero herself so she would meet Anna in the afterlife, but now when death had touched her life for the first time, she wanted to smack herself for ever thinking that. How naive she had been. Her parents did not die in a battle, so their souls wound up somewhere in the Aetherius to wait for the end of the world. She couldn’t even build a grave for their memory, for nothing but ashes remained of them.

Lucy closed the book and put it back to the shelf. Her hands trembled as her throat tightened, images from Helgen flashing in her mind again. There was no memorial for them, no-one to ask what happened to them, not a distant relative to share her sorrow with. Everyone she had ever known was dead.

She peeked over her shoulder. Natsu raised his tankard of ale, his voice getting louder the more he drank. Her blood rushed in her ears, words blending to the screams arising from her memory. She stared at the merry group, her arms limp and lifeless on her sides. Suddenly it truly dawned to her she would never go home again. She’d never hug her mother again, or see her father’s smile. Yes, she had prayed for an adventure, but what adventure would it be if there was no place to go back to after it’d be over?

”Are you okay, Lucy?”

Lucy turned towards the voice which interrupted her melancholy. Erza appeared from the shadows, for she hadn’t taken any part in the feast. The moment they had set their feet inside, she had disappeared to the loneliest corner of the castle. Lucy wanted to lie but knew the warrior would see through that. ”Actually, I’m not.”

The warrior shrugged. She had expected that answer. ”We can still go to Darkwater Crossing if you want. It’s not like he’ll mind. It’s safe there.”

Erza clearly didn’t trust the necromancers, but where she came from, Lucy understood her. But to Lucy, those mages seemed just like any other people having a feast. She believed they’d be safe there. She even preferred to have a roof over her head after spending two nights in a tent.

”It’s not that”, Lucy whispered, shaking her head. ”I just… I’d want to have a memorial for my parents. They died that day, too.”

Erza gave her a sympathetic smile, her eyes filling with warmth. She didn’t say anything as she walked to the dinner table to grab two goblets. The warrior filled them with wine, brought them back and gave one to Lucy. She raised her drink, looking down in honour.

”Which were your parent’s names?”

”Layla and Jude Heartfilia.”

Erza nodded before starting to speak. ”Before the ancient flame, we grieve. At this loss, we weep. For the fallen, we shout. And for ourselves, we take our leave.”

Lucy sipped from the goblet, cringing at the sour taste. Those were lines of Companions funeral custom, and she felt more than honoured to hear them for her parents' sake. A moment of silence followed, raising tears in Lucy’s eyes, but it was all she needed to carry on. For herself, she had to take her leave.

”So you’re Lucy Heartfilia, right? I didn’t realise. I’ve heard your family business was successful.”

Lucy’s finger squeezed around the goblet. The wine oscillated as her hand shivered. ”Our shop did well, but we weren’t that rich. My father’s family kept that store for generations.”

”It’s a good sing when a store actually stays in business for generations.”

She smiled softly – she knew many other stores weren’t as lucky. Her father was a really talented vendor who always managed to bargain the best prices. She never lacked anything in her childhood, and maybe it was the easy life which made her reach for the stars. It was the nature of a human being to look for a challenge.

”Where are you from, Erza?”

The warrior glanced at the mages. None of them paid any attention to her and Lucy, but Erza still gestured backwards, pointing to the most distant corner of the hall. There were two chairs around a wooden table, and a fireplace providing warmth and dim light. Lucy took the hint and followed the warrior as they walked there, the laughter and drinking songs fading to the background.

Erza seated and drank her wine as if she needed alcohol’s courage to open up. ”I’m from Rorikstead.”

”Oh”, Lucy exhaled and sat down. ”I thought you were from Whiterun.”

”Not at all. The first time I visited Whiterun was when I joined the Companions. Rorikstead was the only place I knew.”

”It would be a shame to know nothing more than the town where you were born, right?”

Erza chuckled dryly.

”That’s true. Leaving was the best decision of my life.”

”Got no ties there?”

The warrior shook her head. ”None.”

”No family?”

Her silence made Lucy regret her question. It seemed the steel plate wasn’t the only armour Erza wore. She was shrouded in mystery. How in the Oblivion had Natsu learned she had ties to the Dark Brotherhood? Erza took another sip, and it dawned to Lucy that alcohol had made her slip.

”My mother was a waitress in the Frostfruit Inn”, Erza started, keeping her voice low. ”And my father was a soldier in the Great War. I was a result of a night my father spent in the inn on his way to the battle. He promised to return to my mother, but never did.”

Lucy swallowed. Erza didn’t need to tell what happened to her father, for Lucy already knew. The Great War between the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire had heavy casualties on both sides, and Erza’s father was one of them.

”I’m sorry”, Lucy whispered, not knowing anything else to say.

”Don’t be. My mother was a strong woman, and she raised me alone for the first six years. Then she got a better-paying job from Solitude.”

Lucy raised her brows, remembering Erza had never left her hometown. ”She left you in Rorikstead?”

”I didn’t want to go”, Erza answered. ”I fought her with a stick when she tried to take me with her.”

Lucy chuckled. ”I can imagine that.”

”It was because of my closest friend. I didn’t want to leave him behind. His family had a little farm, so they took me in. I lived there helping with the animals and the crops until my friend moved to Cyrodiil. Then was my time to find my own path, too.”

The Great War ended 26 years ago, so Lucy counted Erza had to be at least 25. Farmers and Companions truly had different ways of life, and Lucy adored Erza’s courage to take a leap that great. Her leap from a merchant to a mage wasn’t the smallest either, and sometimes she felt terrified of the path she had chosen.

”Did you always know you’d want to be a Companion?”

”Not always”, the warrior said, surprising Lucy. Her lips twitched into a smile. ”When I was a child I wanted to be a baker. And to be honest, I still like to surprise my fellow Companions with a cake from time to time.”

”Really? I’m miserable at baking. I always burn everything I cook.”

”Like an alchemy lab?”

Lucy sneered. ”Exactly. Why did I ever think I’d learn alchemy?”

”It was your first try. You’ll do better next time. It’s astonishing how fast you’ve learned magic, considering you don’t have the best mentor.”

There was no sarcasm in Erza’s tone. The compliment meant more to Lucy than she could ever explain. Lately, she had been drowning in self-doubt and envy. Natsu’s skills made her question if she was even capable of becoming a mage at all.

”What about you, did you always want to become a wizard?” Erza asked. ”That’s an unusual dream for a Nord.”

”Yes”, Lucy answered without a second’s hesitation. She couldn’t remember dreaming of anything else. ”And that dream wasn’t well-received in a Nord merchant family.”

”I know. But you’ll live your own life, making your own path. It takes a lot of strength and courage, but I’m sure your ancestors are smiling at you.”

Lucy smiled at her, hoping that was true. Maybe her parents would smile at her too. Her dream of magic was the light in the darkest time of her life, and now it was coming true. Slowly, but surely. She just had to believe in herself.

The bridge of her thoughts led to the fire mage. Lucy took a look at the dinner table and found him at the same spot where she had left him. The smile on her face faded when she noticed the Wood Elf climbing over the table, seating herself on Natsu’s thigh.

”Excuse me?” Lucy heard him say. His brows furrowed as he drank his ale, confusedly looking at the woman. He swayed from side to side, struggling to sit straight. He was totally wasted. Lucy hadn’t paid any attention to the conversations of the table, but now she heard everything they said.

”My sir, I heard you got something huge under your robes?” the Wood Elf flirted, blinking her large, pitch-black eyes.

”Yeah, whatabout it?”

The woman played with her amber curls, twirling a lock around her finger. ”Mind showing it to me?”

”Sure, yeah, whatever”, Natsu answered, slightly opening the wrap of his clothes, revealing his side. ”This huge-ass scar, I got it… damn, how did I get it… I don’t even remember...”

”I… I thought you… meant something else...”

”Like what?”

The Wood Elf bit her lip, unsure what to do with his cluelessness.

”Uhm, I...”

The frown on his face deepened as he stared at the woman, his mind working hard to figure out what she was about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer to whisper something in his ear.

”That’s what you thought!?” Natsu exclaimed and pushed the woman away from him. She shrieked as she dropped to the floor from his lap. ”Why’d you think I… I’d mean... that? Damn pervert...”

Lucy buried her face into her hands to muffle her giggling as well as hide the blush creeping to her cheeks. The elven woman got herself back up, frustration and embarrassment mixing up on her face. Lucy felt pretty stupid. She didn’t think of herself as a pervert, but even she had thought about that. How could he be so oblivious? And what kind of a man boasted about his scars? All young men she had known definitely boasted about something else...

”That guy is never going to get himself a woman”, Erza laughed. ”Never.”

Lucy agreed. ”It doesn’t look like he even wants one…”

When the Wood Elf left him alone, Natsu noticed Lucy was missing from his side. He stared at the empty seat for a moment before raising his head and looking around. His face brightened when his eyes found Lucy, and he waved his hand to greet her as if they had been apart for a longer time than half an hour. He said something to Felrys before he got up and walked across the hall, his steps zigzagging along the way. The more Lucy witnessed of his drunken state, the more glad she was about not finishing even the first goblet of wine.

”Heeyyy, what’s up?” he said merrily as he reached them, suddenly turning white as a ghost. ”I… I think I’m gonna puke...”

Natsu grabbed the basket behind Lucy. Her eyes caught something purple inside, quickly recognising it as a book. As fast as a charging snake she saved the book right before Natsu shoved his head into the basket and threw up.

”Look where you puke, idiot! You almost ruined a book!”

”If it was kept in a bucket... it, it means... someone wiped their arse into it –”

Lucy cringed as he vomited again. She pitied him for getting himself into such a miserable condition so fast, but she guessed it was his way to handle his grief. When he was done, he lied down, close to Lucy’s feet. Tightly hugging the bucket, he curled up like a cat. A really drunk cat.

”I’m… I’m gonna take a nap...” he muttered while his eyes slipped closed.

Lucy’s legs tensed. ”Seriously? At my feet?”

”I’m gonna take a nap right here...”

”Gods”, Lucy sighed but didn’t bother to kick him away either. He had gotten some of the alcohol out of his body and a little rest would hopefully restore him back to normal. She moved her gaze from the passed-out mage to the purple book in her lap. A daedric symbol was carved to its cover. A spellbook. Damn, she’d be so furious if Natsu had ruined that.

”Would you look at that”, a man’s voice said, having approached without Lucy’s notice. Her eyes shoot up to Felrys. He wore a wide grin. ”The whelp couldn’t handle his drink.”

Lucy fell into a shy silence, not knowing at all what to say. She looked at Natsu again, who was already tight asleep.

”Too much, too fast”, Erza commented as she went to pick up Natsu’s bucket. ”He’s so going to regret this tomorrow. Our travel schedule has no mercy.” She probably meant she had no mercy, but Lucy stayed quiet about that. Erza left to empty the bucket outside, making Lucy happy. It didn’t smell too good.

”Where are you headed?” Felrys asked when Erza was out of sight.

”To Winterhold”, Lucy answered, gathering up her courage to talk to him. ”I’m going to join the College.”

”Oh really? Good luck with that.”

Lucy was uncertain if his tone was mocking or encouraging. She had heard small glimpses of their conversation, and understood Felrys had been suspended from the College due to some ’failed experiments’. Lucy didn’t want to know what kind of experiments those had been.

”I heard you studied there.”

”Yes, yes, but it has been years. I was there at the same time with this moron’s brother. I remember him well. I’ve never met a wizard that talented”, Felrys said, briefly zoning out to visit his memories. ”It was horrible, that what happened. Her death really shook the entire College like another Great Collapse.”

Lucy winced, glancing at the sleeping mage beneath her feet. ”Whose death?”

”Mavis was her name”, the Dark Elf answered. ”She was a skilled restoration wizard, beautiful and kind like a princess. She and Zeref were about to get married, but she died before the wedding. They were exploring a Dwemer ruin when something went wrong. He couldn’t even retrieve her corpse.”

Lucy's eyes widened, glistening from the tragedy. ”That’s so sad", she whispered.

”It was indeed. Zeref was crushed, and he disappeared a few months later. Some say he went to follow her, while some say he’s still alive. No-one really knows what happened to him.”

”Does Natsu know about that?”

”He does”, Felrys said. ”We told him everything when he came looking for his brother. I bet he doesn’t really like to talk about him.”

Lucy nodded. She had noticed the same thing, but she understood him. He was evasive when their discussions led to personal things. It was clear that there was so much pain lying beneath his silence.

”But what do we have here?” the Dark Elf switched the subject to something happier and pointed at the book in her hands.

”I… I saved it”, Lucy whispered. ”It was in the bucket.”

”Ah. It’s a Bound Bow spell. Take it if you want. If it was in the bucket, it means nobody will miss it.”

Her eyes widened in excitement. ”Really?”

”Sure. How long have you been practising magic?”

”For a few days...”

”Oh. Then it will be a while before you can use it, but don’t get depressed about it. That’s an adept level spell. If Phinis Gestor is still around in the College he can surely help you with that.”

Lucy smiled shyly and pressed the book against her chest. She’d treasure the book and keep it safe until she’d learn it. Natsu had told her about Bound weapons. Those were ethereal versions of Daedric weapons, and incredibly strong. However, they had their own disadvantages. Using them cost a lot of magic, meaning they couldn’t be conjured if the user was already out of magicka.

Felrys looked at Lucy from head to toes, shaking his head a bit. ”No offence, but you don’t look much like a mage in that leather suit.”

”I know, but… I can’t defend myself well, and...”

”Look, a mage’s got to wear robes. Robes let us move freely and the enchantments aid with casting spells. Come with me, I’ll check if we have something suitable for you.”

Lucy’s heart began to race in her chest. He wouldn’t have to ask twice. She left Natsu to sleep on the floor as she followed Felrys upstairs.

---

Having a sensitive nose wasn’t always a good thing. Erza had flushed the vomit bucket with water from the well, probably in vain, for she had a feeling he would need it again. By the time she got back, Lucy was missing, and Natsu was still lying on the ground. Suspecting Lucy had gone somewhere with the necromancer, Erza walked to Natsu and crouched next to him, gently patting him on the back. He groaned, cracking his cloudy eyes open.

Erza offered him her waterskin. ”Take a drink.”

”More wine? Oh, no…”

”It’s water, idiot.”

Hesitantly, he grabbed the waterskin and drank. Then he rolled back to his side and gladly took back the bucket, leaning into it. He stared into the distance as he clung on the verge of sleep until something flinched him up.

”Is that really Lucy?” he mumbled, gazing at the figure who had just appeared to the bottom end of the stairs. Erza turned her head from the mage and saw her, dressed in a long, black robe. A belt was wrapped around her waist and a large hood pulled over her head, revealing only a few locks of her fair hair. She radiated confidence. And magic.

”Now she looks like a mage”, Natsu said and smirked before his head thudded against the floor as he passed out again.

If Erza ever had to define happiness, it was Lucy at that very moment.

A/N: Scenery from the mountain side, the bridge upon the waterfall and Fort Amol

Felrys and the other mages from this chapter are all original characters I made up.

I hoped you liked this chapter! It was meant to be different from the previous chapters, I hope I succeed to bring some more variety to the story. Soon I've introduced everything that's needed to know before the events really start rolling. It's going to be one more chapter before things get serious. What do you think is going to happen?

Chapter Text

”Hey, idiot, wake up.”

Strong hands grabbed him from the shoulders and shook the sleep away from him. The light burned his eyes like fire when he cracked them open. Instinctively, he shielded his face with his hands – his old bruises were healing nice enough, and he didn’t want to have new ones.

”Come with me now”, a man’s voice said. Natsu was relieved to hear it wasn’t Erza who woke him. ”The steel lady will beat your ass if you’re not ready to leave at sunrise.”

Felrys patted him on the back, urging him to get up. An ache throbbed his head like a war hammer smashing his skull from the inside. Felrys’s lantern gave faint light, letting Natsu see the two women sleeping on the other side of the room.

Carefully he lifted his body and realised he was in his own bedroll. He didn’t know how he got there. His last memory was seeing Lucy in black robes. She had looked strange in them. Or not strange. Funny? No. Nice? Not that either. He didn’t know a word to describe that sight.

”Shit”, Natsu groaned and rubbed his neck. Every movement hurt. Had he lost a brawl? Had he even been in a brawl? No, he hadn’t been. He would remember if he had. No matter how drunk he was, he never lost his memory. Even when others thought he would. ”How did I get here?”

”She carried you upstairs when you passed out on the floor”, Felrys answered, pointing at Erza. Natsu gulped. ”I bet you’re gonna hear about that for a long time.”

”Really fucking nice.”

”Anyway, hurry up now. I’ll get Igneel’s things for you before you go.”

With his whole body trembling, Natsu got on his feet and took support from the walls. His dry mouth craved for water, but that had to wait. Nausea churned in his stomach, so he grabbed the empty bucket he had slept next to.

More memories from last night crawled back. He remembered throwing up a few times and felt even more embarrassed of himself. The memory cleared more, pointing out how he threw up right in front of Lucy. He cringed as he followed Felrys to the storage room. Damn, sometimes he wished he’d actually forget what happened when he was drunk.

They walked past the main chamber where the necromancers slept. There had been ten in the group, all of them tight asleep. Natsu noticed the Wood Elf woman in the same bedroll with a High Elf man, remembering the woman trying to lure him there instead.

Igneel always used to tease him how incredibly bad Natsu was with women. He got their attention pretty often, probably because of his unusual hair colour, but he didn’t know what to do with that attention except turn them down. Igneel had tried to give him some advice, but Natsu always lost interest and started talking about something he actually cared about. Like what kind of explosions different types of fireballs caused.

Sometimes Natsu had been sure that one day Igneel would roll his red eyes so far back that he’d go blind.

”So you’re teaching her magic?”

Natsu blinked, having to wonder for a moment who Felrys talked about. His brain worked so damn slow he wanted to bang his head to the wall. He had been so lost in thought he didn’t realise when they got to the storage room. The Dark Elf dug items from a chest in the dim candlelight, messily throwing stuff around as he searched for something specific. Natsu put the bucket to the floor, feeling better already.

”Yeah”, he answered, scratching his neck. ”She was from Helgen and lost her home and family in the dragon attack.”

”Yes, she told me.” Felrys paused his search for a moment when he found a red book. ”Teach her this spell. It’s Oakflesh. You know how it works.”

Felrys gave the book to Natsu, who recognised it as an Alteration spell. He hated that school of magic. Oakflesh wasn’t even difficult, but all his previous attempts to cast it had failed miserably. It was supposed to form a protective layer around the caster. There had been many times it would have been useful, but well, he’d rather collect scars than make an effort to learn that spell. Lucy would surely be smarter than him. She learnt everything so fast anyway.

”Damn it, I’m sure I put it somewhere in… Here!” the Dark Elf exclaimed as he pulled something white from the chest. ”That’s the thing I borrowed from Igneel years ago.”

Felrys stood up and spread his arms, showing him a long, white piece of fabric. Natsu furrowed his brows, realising it was a scarf. He had never seen Igneel wearing that, so maybe he gave it to his cousin before Natsu had joined the College.

”Our grandmother knitted scarfs for all of her grandchildren”, Felrys said, shaking his hands as he urged Natsu to pick it up. He took it tentatively, still not sure what to do with it. ”She made a green scarf for me, but I lost it somewhere.”

Natsu squinted, the white yarn exuding magic he couldn’t fully understand. ”It’s enchanted?”

”Yes. Grandmother was an enchanter from Solstheim. In fear of the eruptions of the Red Mountain, she enchanted these scarves with fire resistance. No flame can hurt you when you wear it. At least if you’re a Dunmer. You aren’t, but well, it’s still something. I hope it comes in handy, you being a fire wizard and all.”

He raised his eyes from the scarf to the Dark Elf and nodded humbly. ”Thank you.”

Natsu wrapped the scarf around his neck and felt its magic seeping through his skin. More than it. For a moment, it felt like Igneel grabbed him into a brotherly hug and patted him on the back. ’You’ve got this, brother’, Natsu could almost hear him say. Those had been his last words, quietly muttered before the headsman swung his axe. He stared at Felrys, his gaze hollowing as he sunk into the vivid memory of the last moment he shared with his best friend.

Natsu’s chin begun to shiver and there wasn’t a single thing in the world he could do to stop that, no matter how much he wanted to. He could still hear the sound of Igneel’s head thumping to the ground, his own scream still echoing in his ears as they dragged his writhing body to the block. The soldiers had forced him to lay his neck on his best friend’s blood, their sadistic grins saying ’I could do this all day’.

And then tears poured down his face like they did that day.

Natsu squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to see the judgement on Felrys’s face. The man looked so much like Igneel that it wrenched his heart. Even though Igneel had been his cousin, the Dark Elf showed no sentimentality for his death, like a proper man was supposed to do. Natsu swallowed a sob, wiping the tears from his cheeks to the end of Igneel’s scarf. Fighting to keep himself from collapsing under his grief, he twisted the sorrow to the only emotion which was accepted for a man to express.

Anger.

Despite the painful sting, he opened his eyes, averting the Dark Elf’s gaze. He focused on the flame which fluttered inside the lantern, watching how it danced, slowly eating up the candle. Fire embodied the rage he felt inside – the churning, smouldering rage which would consume him to the core, just like the flame consumed the candle.

"I'll burn them to ashes", Natsu muttered under his breath. "All of them."

Felrys seemed to understand what he meant, nodding gently. "Then you shall do it. For Igneel's sake."

During that time they sat in the cold, damp forest floor, trying to hide from the dragon right after escaping Helgen, Natsu had thought about joining the Stormcloaks to avenge Igneel. Back then, he had been in shock and his thoughts an unsolvable mess, but now everything was crystal clear. Now he knew exactly what he was supposed to do.

”Could you do something for me?” Natsu asked, already beginning to tie the loose ends in case his plan would fail. ”You were at Clavicus’s shrine, right?”

”We were. There was this thing -”

”I don’t want to know what you were doing there. You noticed the dog was missing? I kinda stroke a deal with Clavicus I probably can’t fulfil. The Daedra don’t like broken promises.”

Felrys cocked his head. ”Sounds promising.”

Natsu didn’t care about his sarcasm. ”So, if you happen to see that dog, Barbas, somewhere, could you bring it back to that shrine?”

”Why?”

”A troll attacked you there?” Natsu asked, his belief confirmed as Felrys nodded. ”That troll is actually a man who Clavicus turned into a troll. He has a son in Ivarstead waiting for his dad to come home. Clavicus will turn him back to normal if he gets Barbas back.”

”Why won’t you do that yourself?”

”Because I’ll join the Stormcloacks after I’ve brought Lucy to Winterhold.”

Felrys asked no more questions. Despite already knowing he’d hate having to tell Lucy he’d leave to the war, he didn’t see any other way he'd be able to carry on with his life. The animals who arranged Igneel’s death still roamed free, and how many other mages they would kill before someone would stop them? Eventually, they’d target the College and put everyone he knew into danger.

Only one line repeated in his head as he followed Felrys back to the sleeping chambers and found Erza and Lucy already awake, packing their things for the journey ahead.

For Igneel’s sake.

Lucy hadn’t known there was a place so warm in Skyrim.

Lucy sat on the edge of white rock and swung her legs above a hot spring, dipping her toes to the water. Warmth embraced her tired feet. It invited her to slip out of her robes and jump into the pool, but she refused the offer for now. She had planned to bathe with Erza later tonight once the dark had fallen. It would be more relaxing that way, and the dark would hide their nakedness from their male companion. However, after spending a week with him, Lucy was sure that he wouldn’t care at all. He had already seen Lucy in her natural state and didn’t bat an eye about it. Currently, he was searching for the hottest spring with intentions to test if the scarf he got from Felrys would prevent his skin from burning.

There was about an hour of daylight left. Erza was setting up their tent. Lucy and Natsu had tried to help her once but only pissed her off, so she preferred to do it on her own. With Natsu out of sight and Erza otherwise occupied, Lucy picked up her journal. She had written every day since she got the book, finding it a good way to channel her thoughts, both bright and dark. The entry from last night was the brightest so far. Despite Natsu being a drunken fool, the evening had been great. She had gotten a new spell and robes. What else could she have wished for?

Lucy placed the inkpot next to her, trying to find the most level spot so it wouldn’t spill. The rocky ground had formed centuries ago from dried magma. There were steaming cracks on the stone, implying the area was still volcanically active. Lucy had even seen a geyser spurting from one of the springs. She dipped her quill in the ink and begun to write.

23th of Last Seed, E4 201

Dear mom,
Today we’re travelling through the volcanic tundra, which is our last stop before reaching Kynesgrove. Then we’ll part ways with Erza, but I really hope I’ll meet her again someday. I’m going to miss her.

We walked past a giant’s camp. I didn’t know giants were so peaceful. We watched them from afar when they fed and tended their mammoths. The smell was so horrible we couldn’t stay there for long.

I’ve eaten so many fresh jazbay grapes that my stomach hurts. You used to make a tart from them, remember? Sometimes traders brought preserved grapes to our store, but to be honest, they weren’t as good as the fresh ones here. This place is also full of creep clusters and dragon’s tongues. I picked some up in case I’ll try alchemy again someday.

I hope you’re doing well, mom.
Lucy

Even though she already saw through her mind’s defence, dedicating her entries as letters to her mother eased her grief. It made her feel like she was actually telling her about their adventure. Lucy closed the inkpot and waved her hand at the page, aiding the ink to dry.

A gentle breeze blew through the tundra, making the fragrant flowers next to her tickle her sides. She picked one dragon’s tongue, adoring the deep orange colour of its large, round petals before putting it in between her journal. Every area of Skyrim had a different kind of fauna, and she thought it would be nice to pick flowers everywhere her journey took her.

”Hey Lucy, wanna see a word wall?”

Lucy flinched as the mage appeared silently behind the rocks. ”There’s one right up there. It’s not a long climb.”Natsu pointed at the hill ahead, his new, white scarf swaying in the wind.

”A word wall?” Lucy replied, her heart already racing. She had read of them but never seen a real one. ”Is it true that they have ancient dragon language written into them?”

”I don’t know, but to me it looks like huge talons clawed the stone.”

”You’ve seen them before?”

”Yeah, a few. They’re cool.”

”Okay”, Lucy answered, a smile forming on her face. ”Erza, is it okay if -”

”Go ahead”, the warrior hollered from their half-built campsite. ”Finally, a moment of peace...”

Lucy put her things into her bag and left it on the stone before she set off. She didn’t bother to put her boots on, for the ground was warm and pleasant under her bare soles. Natsu waited for her to reach him, his hands shoved in his pockets, as if hiding something.

They hadn’t trained much today. Natsu had given her the spellbook he got from Felrys while they were eating breakfast, but after that, he had been quiet and withdrawn. Lucy inferred he suffered from a decent hangover thanks to his excessive drinking last night, and wasn’t feeling well enough to train with her or even talk to her. She had chatted with Erza instead. The warrior had taught her more basics of archery today. Perhaps she could have a day off from training magic every now and then.

But now as they walked to the hill, Natsu’s silence felt wrong.

Lucy lowered her head, seeing the black fabric concealing her legs. While Natsu’s robes were actually two pieces of clothing, made from pants and a wrapped, loose cope with a large hood, Lucy’s was more like a gown with a leather belt on her thin waist. She liked it a lot. Not just how it made her look and feel a more like a mage, she liked the way she looked in them. She had loved pretty clothing and dressing up back in Helgen.

Last night she had been so excited to show her new outfit to Natsu. Having a mage’s robes meant a lot to her, and she had hoped he’d acknowledge it somehow. She couldn’t deny her disappointment when he had just conked out.

”Well, did you find a spring hot enough for you?” Lucy asked with a crooked smile, trying to break the silence. There was a giant’s camp nearby, the distant grunts and the trumpeting sounds of their mammoths echoed in the air. Lucy would rather listen to his voice than be constantly reminded of the giants' close presence.

”I did”, Natsu answered and pulled up his sleeves. She was happy to hear him speak again, but couldn’t help but grimace at the painful-looking sight. His skin was red to the elbow, plagued by small blisters. ”Kept my hands in boiling water for a minute and it isn’t worse than this.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, sighing. Erza had had every right to ask if his mother dropped him as a baby. Maybe the Nightshade poisoning affected his mind or something. A normal person would have a sense of self-protection, which he clearly lacked.

”But didn’t take bath? Weakling.”

When Natsu grinned, Lucy realised he had taken her joke as a dare.

”Well, I can -”

”Don’t”, Lucy warned, trying sound as serious and stern as Erza. It didn’t really suit her. ”Doesn’t that hurt?”

The mage just shrugged, looking at his burned hands. ”A bit. But I’m used to hot things I guess.”

”Why you don’t heal them?” Lucy asked, meeting his quizzical stare. ”I mean, you healed mine. Why not treat your own wounds as well?”

”It’s a waste of magicka”, he replied. ”I’ll wear my scars with pride. They’ll remind me where I’ve been and what I’ve done.”

”Then where did you get that huge scar on your side? You didn’t remember last night.”

He chuckled, seeming embarrassed to be reminded of that moment. ”A giant frost spider tried to eat me. It grabbed me between its poison fangs. I don’t know why I forgot that.”

Lucy smiled inwardly, yet the thought of getting eaten by a spider was gross. However, that image vanished when they reached the path leading up to the top of the hill. She couldn’t see the word wall from there, almost doubting if there even was one. What would it look like? Would it be a small tablet or a larger structure? It had been said that the ancient Nords built the walls in honour of important figures, and wrote funeral rhymes for their memory. At least that was what her books had said.

The climb to the top of the hill wasn’t long, just as Natsu had said. And when Lucy’s eyes caught the black, curved stone wall, she froze in awe. Natsu halted by her side and smiled.

”So, here it is.”

Lucy couldn’t answer, captured by the ominous monument. It towered towards the sky, making her tilt her head so she’d see it fully. She stepped closer, slowly and carefully as if it was just a dream which would vanish if approached. But it didn’t. It stayed there, radiating power of the ancient world, power lost long ago. It pulsated in the carvings those which Natsu had said to look like huge talons had clawed the stone. And yes, that’s how they looked. But not a bear or a sabre cat was intelligent enough to carve such markings.

Only a dragon was.

She could almost envision a majestic dragon using it’s great, sharp talons to carve the symbols into the stone itself. The dragons were not simple, mindless beasts like some Nords thought. They communicated with each other. Even their mighty roars were actually speech – Lucy had gotten a taste of that in Helgen. The dragon had been speaking, summoning the powers of fire upon its words.

Lucy touched the stone and brushed her fingers across the marks. She was sure they were words, written with the alphabet of the ancient dragons, a language extinct long ago. The ancient Nords who lived in the same time with the dragons copied their symbols, their tongue, and carved them to these walls. It felt like some ancient magic was hidden into the words, as if the reader could harness that power only if they could understand what they meant.

She couldn’t explain it, for it would sound like utter nonsense to anyone else who didn’t feel that their own hands. But it was real. Very real.

”How do you think this translates?” Lucy asked from the mage. He stood behind her, kicking the sand with his foot. How could he be bored in front of this mystery?

”Here lies a huge pile of dragon’s dung -”

”Please.”

” - shat before the First Era and petrified in time -”

”Natsu!” Lucy shrieked. ”I’m actually curious to know what’s written on this wall, you idiot.” To her, it was a puzzle to be solved, a mystery to be unravelled, not just a piece of stone.

”Well, I’m not. It probably means nothing anyway. ”

Lucy let out a frustrated sigh when the mage disappeared from her sight. Somehow he reminded her of Loke. The lumberjack’s boy had been just as dense, his sense of humour just as ’mature’. When his jokes had been funny, Lucy had held back her laugh, not wanting him to know she secretly liked the stupid things he said. It would have made her question her own modesty as well.

Despite all of that, Loke had been her closest friend. She had known him as long as she could remember. Through him, Lucy had got to taste freedom she’d never have. Loke had an older brother, Haming, who’d inherit the lumber mill one day, and his parents were more open-minded than her’s, letting their younger son choose whichever path of life he’d want. While Lucy’s girlfriends wanted to knit and sew and gossip about boys, Loke always brought some excitement to her dull life.

Lucy could still feel chills running down her spine when she remembered the time they picked the locks of Vilod’s house and stole a few bottles of juniper mead. Except that ’a few’ meant a dozen. Her parents never found out about that. They spent the night drinking mead at the sawmill’s roof, gazing stars and talking about the future. Loke wanted to move to Riften after the winter, to work in Black-Briar Meadery. Lucy had felt so wistful, knowing he’d be gone in less than a year. Only if she had known it would have been better than being gone for good…

Lucy saw something pink flashing in the edge of her vision, far above the level of her head. Done visiting the past, she tore her eyes from the carved words and turned towards the mage, who was halfway up the wall.

”What are you doing!?”

”Climbing.”

”Get down from there!”

”You sound like my mom.”

Lucy clenched her fingers into fists, crossing her arms on her chest. She didn’t even want to imagine how it had been for his mother. No wonder she had worried herself to death. Natsu swung himself to the top, seating himself on the edge, not looking very stable. The wall was at least four metres high, and Lucy didn’t know any spells to heal him with if he fell.

”It looks dangerous -”

”You can see up to Windhelm from there. Wanna come too?”

Lucy bit her bottom lip, wanting to slap herself for feeling tempted to climb. There wasn’t much she could do about the writings on the wall anyway. She didn’t understand them, and that was final. At least she got to know that they existed.

”I can’t climb.”

”It’s easy. Just put your feet there, grab that stone, pull yourself up a bit, then step on that crack -”

”But what if I fall?”

”What if you don’t? C’mon, it’s a great view. You’ll regret if you miss it.”

Natsu was right. Lucy took a deep, long breath as she set herself to a position where she’d begin her climb. Following his instructions didn’t take her so far, though. Natsu was taller than her, therefore having different spots on the wall he could grasp. The amusement on his face didn’t help her at all as he watched her drain down when she lost her grip. When Lucy failed for the third time, she was about to give up, but then Natsu gave her his hand and pulled her to the top.

And the view truly took her breath away.

The sunset painted the horizon in crimson and orange shades, contrasting the distant mountains against the sky. Lucy seated herself next to the mage, clenching her fingers to the stone. The wind pushed against her back, but not strong enough to throw her over the edge. She let her eyes rest on the beauty before her. She saw walls of a city in the distance, knowing it was Windhelm. Winterhold was hidden behind the mountains, but suddenly the destination which she’d thought to be an eternity away was so frighteningly close.

Lucy found it hard to believe she’d be there so soon.

”You’ve been quiet today”, Lucy said to the mage. He leaned his chin to his burned hands, his eyes locked to the silhouette of Windhelm.

”It’s the hangover”, Natsu answered. ”Head hurts.”

”Are you sure?”

Lucy noticed how Natsu’s fingers curled into fists. He closed his eyes, pressing his chin to his chest as he sighed.

"Actually, I've got something I have to tell you."

Lucy blinked, unease spreading in her guts like frost. "What is it?"

Natsu paused before he spoke.

”I’ll take you to the College, but then I have to go”, Natsu whispered. ”I’ll join the Stormcloaks and avenge Igneel’s death. I just can’t move on before I know my brother’s soul can rest in peace.”

Upon his words, Lucy’s world came to a complete stop.

All out of sudden, Lucy felt a strike in her heart, as if all of her insides shrunk into a tiny, aching ball. The warmth she felt turned to ice flowing through her veins. Blankly, she stared at him and failed to hide it how her face fell.

”Don’t worry about it”, Natsu said, seeing the sadness rising to her eyes. ”We can surely hang out more when I get back. It’s not like it will take long. Ulfric will crush the Imperials in no time.”

Lucy couldn’t help but reflect the story Erza told about his father, how he had sworn to come back, but never did. The soldiers who thought of war being something fast and easy were the first ones to die. Those who promised to come back always came back in a coffin. Was she supposed to just let him go? Would this short time be the only memory she’d have of him? She didn’t even know why it felt so horribly sad. It just did.

”Aren’t you afraid?” Lucy asked quietly, finally getting words out of her mouth.

”Of what?”

”Of dying.”

Natsu lifted his shoulders, his tension slowly wearing off. That confession had to be behind his silence today, it now lifted as he had got it out. ”Why should I be? It’s not like I can decide when I’ll die. There ain’t no use worrying about the things you can’t change.”

Lucy wanted to slap him for thinking like that.

”If you decide to jump off this wall headfirst, I’m pretty sure you’ll die.”

He flashed that damn insolent smirk of his. ”You sure?”

”Don’t try it. You aren’t immortal.”

”You know, my brother used to say if I survived that Nightshade poisoning, it means that I have some sort of destiny to fulfil. If it’s my fate to die falling from this word wall, so be it. I won’t stress about it. I’ll die when I die. Meantime, I’ll live my life the way I want to.”

There was a point in that. Lucy had thought that too. Maybe his insane luck was actually fate protecting him?

”But isn’t a man the master of their own fate?” Lucy asked, wanting to lead him out of that careless belief.

”I used to think so”, Natsu started quietly. ”But if being saved by a real fucking dragon isn’t fate, I don’t know what is. I thought that was the end of the line, but if it wasn’t, it has to mean only that I was destined for something else.”

”What do you think it’ll be?”

”I don’t know, but I’m sure I won’t die before I have fulfilled whatever crap fate planned for me. Maybe it’s avenging Igneel’s death. Maybe it’s something else, but who can tell?”

Lucy smiled at him, sadly. She really hoped for the latter. ”Just be careful out there.”

”Sure.”

She turned her eyes from the mage to the horizon, not knowing what else to say. Lucy knew it wouldn’t be what Igneel would want. She hadn’t known him personally, but she was sure he’d want Natsu to keep on living. To live was to light a torch and carry it as far as you could go. If you failed, someone would relight that torch and carry it the rest of the way, in honour of you and who you were to them. Seeking vengeance would only blow that flame out once again, but Lucy knew she couldn’t make Natsu see that. There was nothing she could say to change his mind.

Feeling so helpless at the thought of losing another friend, Lucy almost wanted to pray. Pray for something to happen, something to make him stay.

But she didn’t, knowing her prayers usually came true in the worst possible ways.

A/N: Hot springs and the Word Wall

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! So, this is the last one before big things happen. I think I've built a firm foundation for the story already with almost 50k words... :D

Chapter Text

An unknown chill replaced the empty space where the stone on his heart had been.

When the sun sank into the Sea of Ghost which glimmered far, far in the horizon, Natsu deemed it was time to head back. Twilight was falling and it would be dangerous to climb down the hill in dark. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had said the last word by then. While it probably hadn’t been much, the silence which fell after that ’sure’ felt like a small eternity. Thoughts racing, conflicts rising and chest tightening, he couldn’t find anything else to say to her.

The walk back to the camp went on in the same silence, and Natsu was scared if that’s how it would be from there on. Silent, and not fun. Mammoths sounded their trumpeting snouts, a pack of wolves howled somewhere, but either of them didn’t say a single word to each other. He hadn’t thought Lucy would take it so bad. She kept averting her gaze each time Natsu tried to look at her to repair the connection he had unintentionally broken.

Igneel wasn’t lying when he said Natsu was hopeless with women.

It wasn’t like they’d have to say goodbye. Not necessarily. Natsu was sure he’d come back soon after he had turned enough Imperials into ash piles. He didn’t care what the real conflict was about. Stormcloaks believed their Nord way of life was at risk, the Empire having banned the worship of Talos and all. Ulfric aimed to make Skyrim an independent kingdom, while the Imperials thought that a united empire was better for everyone. Being a Breton himself, he couldn’t call himself ’a true son of Skyrim’, so it didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to teach the Imperials a lesson, that was all. If it had been the Stormcloaks who executed Igneel, he’d do the same to them.

What was it so difficult about it to understand?

A campfire blazed in the darkness by the time they reached the camp. They had left the wall right on time – a black veil swallowed the world around them, even stars hadn’t lit up on the sky yet. Even the nights in this area were warm, being a pleasant change. Natsu wouldn’t have to share the tent with the women now, the warmth allowing him to sleep wherever he wanted on his own. With the mood as tight as it was, he preferred it that way.

”I was starting to worry”, Erza’s said somewhere from the night. Natsu turned towards her voice, locating it coming from the hot spring. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he recognised a scarlet spot in the water, and her steel armour laying on the ground next to the tent. ”Feel free to join me here.”

Natsu wasn’t sure if Erza talked to him or Lucy, excepting it was the latter. He had already washed while he was away earlier today. It was strange how some of the springs were boiling hot, but others were just perfect for bathing. If he had been there with Igneel he would have enjoyed them longer, probably shared an ale or two, but now he didn’t feel like it. At least after yesterday. The warm water had made him feel more dehydrated than he already was, forcing him to wash the alcohol’s stench away from him as fast as he could. With that chore done for today, he headed to pick his bedroll. He turned away as Lucy slipped out of her robes and stepped into the spring to accompany the Companion.

Natsu didn’t bother casting the Candlelight, feeling it would make the women feel uncomfortable and exposed. He had gotten a taste of that in Ivarstead when he accidentally crashed into their room when Lucy was changing her clothes. That was one of the things which differed the most from travelling with Igneel. While they had had no trouble taking a leak side by side, travelling with women was so damn complicated compared to that. He wasn’t interested in bare female bodies, not by any means, but they probably thought by default that every man was a pervert. It just wasn’t true. At least in his case.

Lucy’s bag rested on a rock with a purple book by its side. Natsu took a better look at it, the colour already telling it was a conjuration book, but which one? She already could conjure the familiar and wouldn’t need to reread that book anymore. Natsu had to blink his eyes when he realised what that spell was. Bound Bow.

”Hey Lucy, where did you get this spell?” he hollered over his shoulder, his throat dry after the long silence. He had given her the Oakflesh spell this morning but had no memory where she’d got this one. Bound Bow was a rare spell, and far beyond her current skill level.

”You almost puked on it.”

Natsu frowned, trying hard to memorise it. He heard distantly how Lucy carried on her conversation with Erza as he tried to dig through his memory.

”It was in the bucket? Really?” Natsu interrupted her again.

”Exactly.”

The furrow on his forehead kept deepening. ”Why would a spell this valuable be in a damn bucket?”

”How could I know?” Lucy answered, annoyance growing in her voice as Natsu didn’t let her bathe in peace. ”Felrys gave it to me, said no-one needed it anymore.”

The necromancers made no sense to him. How could they not need that spell? Oh well, they were too busy raising the dead to fight for them instead of learning to fight themselves. ”Do you understand how awesome that is?”

”I can’t even cast it in years”, Lucy sighed, failing to meet Natsu’s enthusiasm.

The mage shrugged at her, though she wouldn’t see. ”Not with that attitude.”

”I took a look at it but understood nothing.”

”Bound weapons are a bit different to conjure than creatures. I’ll show you -”

Erza shut him up with a stern threat.

”Our bath shall not be interrupted anymore or I’ll shove that book up to your arse.”

”Please don’t!” Natsu and Lucy both pleaded at the same time. ”Okay, I’ll… I’ll wait if you want to take a look at it… later...” the mage mumbled, finally allowing the women to have their peace.

Natsu sat down with the book. Reading was hard in the campfire’s dim light, so he just skimmed through the pages. He hadn’t seen a copy of that book in all of his years in the College and had met only a few who could cast it. Natsu understood why. Even he struggled to understand the instructions. It was the strongest of all conjured weapons, being an ethereal version of a Daedric bow. He wouldn’t want to get shot by it. He wouldn’t want to get shot in the first place. Igneel once got an iron arrow through his leg, and it had been nasty. His stomach still twisted a bit at the memory of pulling the arrow from bleeding flesh.

He managed to quick-read the half of it while he waited, eventually failing to concentrate on something that difficult to understand. He grasped some major points of it, but the rest remained a mystery. Maybe someone from the College would help her better, but he wanted to give it a try. Natsu saw a flash of pale skin as Lucy rose from the spring and wrapped herself into her cloak. It took her a moment to get dry and dressed in her robes before she walked to him.

”Got any insight of it?” she asked, peeking over his shoulder. Warm water dropped on him from her hair. Natsu nodded and turned the pages to the beginning.

”Here’s a quick summary of using bound weapons”, he said, keeping his finger on the text. ”When you conjure creatures, you have to… form a connection with them, kind of. But when you conjure objects you have to own them. The creatures are beings of their own, but these weapons are yours, and yours only.”

Natsu opened his left hand, casting the portal on his palm. He closed his fingers around the purple light as the blue, ghostly dagger passed through. There was nothing new about it to him, but Lucy’s eyes widened. He doubted she had never seen an ethereal weapon before. It was admirable how she got excited like a little child from the magic she explored. The things which had become dull and boring to him were new and amazing to her. Sometimes he forgot that.

”I like to imagine that Oblivion is the shelf where I keep this thing”, Natsu said as the purple light faded, leaving only the dagger in his hand. His magicka felt already drained, a reminder of why he didn’t use that too often. Using ethereal weapons was costly and exhausting. ”I take it from there when I need it and put it back when I don’t. Except that this will expire in a few minutes on its own, but anyway.”

Lucy stared at the blade, its colours dancing in her dark eyes. ”It looks sharp.”

”It is. Lightweight too”, Natsu answered, spinning it around at ease, the dagger being as heavy as a feather. ”But I just like fire more, you know? Using this costs a lot of magicka. Usually, when I’m close enough to use a dagger, I don’t have any magicka left.”

”Yeah, it doesn’t suit your battle strategy.”

”Definitely not. But at least I’ll never lose or break it if I ever need a weapon. To be honest, I’ve used this only to fillet fish.”

Natsu heard a muffled chuckle coming from her, but it was true. He couldn’t remember a time he had used it on an enemy.

”But the logic is the same with that bow, right?” Lucy asked. ”It’s just a bow that’s stored in Oblivion?”

”Yeah, that’s about it.”

”It is harder than it sounds like.”

”Don’t worry about it too much now. One day you’ll be able to cast it.”

Natsu closed his fist, making the dagger disappear. It made him worry about the fate of his orcish dagger. He would need to show it to a blacksmith before it could be used again. Erza would be on her way tomorrow, releasing them of her extremely strict travelling schedule. Natsu planned to stop in Windhelm on their way to Winterhold. Lucy would probably like to see the Palace of Kings up close, and they had some gold to spend at the marketplace, too.

And as his thoughts circled back to Lucy, Natsu realised she had grown silent once again. He glanced at her, finding her staring blankly at the book, not reading it. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, watering almost. Something made her sad.

”What’s up?” Natsu asked, keeping his voice low. She didn’t answer, not even with a comforting lie. The chill kept spreading on his chest, just when he thought he had chased it away. When Lucy closed the spellbook and turned away, Natsu realised he made her sad. The reason behind her sadness was the same reason behind the chilling ache growing inside of him.

Just how could he convince her he wasn’t going to die? Only one idea came to his mind.

”I’ll see you using that spell. I promise.”

Natsu felt a strike in his heart when Lucy smiled, knowing it was forced and fake. Was he really going to charge right into his death in the name of his deceased friend, ignoring and forgetting those who were still alive?

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure about anything at all.

An owl’s hoot pulled Erza out of her nightmares.

She stooped up, her head hitting the wall of the leather tent. Cold sweat covered her face and chest, making her undershirt glue against her skin. For a moment she feared the rapid beating of her heart would break through her steel armour, but gladly it began to calm down as she listened to the owl’s calls which echoed in the early morning.

Erza had dreamt of a dragon, the same nightmare she had seen a hundred times before.

Sure she couldn’t be the only one having nightmares about dragons in this turning of age, she shook her head, trying to collect herself before Lucy would wake up to her rumbling. Lucy slept her nose buried in that spellbook – she had read it until she had passed out. The mage had chosen to sleep under the stars, and Erza hadn’t argued against it. Slowly she crawled out of the tent to get a breath of fresh air. Her dream kept replaying in her vision, the mighty black beast grabbing Jellal between its jaws and swallowing him whole. She had never seen a real dragon, only drawings and paintings of them. Her mind’s presentation was probably false, but it was terrifying enough.

Erza sat on the ground and looked around to find the owl. And there it was, perched on the branch of an ancient pine. Glowing blue light, it calmed Erza’s raging heart in a second. It was Jellal’s owl, messaging her that he was still alive. Sometimes he didn’t even send a note, only the owl, to tell her he was alright. A warm smile spread on her lips, the horror of her dream fading away as she listened to the owl’s song.

”Fucking birds won’t let me sleep.”

Erza flinched, almost falling to the hot spring when the mage appeared behind her. Looking grumpy and tired he relit the campfire, allowing some light to the world before the dawn would break. The owl flit from the branch and withered into tiny blue particles as it crossed the liminal bridge between two worlds. Erza rarely had so hard time holding back the urges to smack someone. If she did, she’d have to explain to him why. He already knew too much, thanks to their drunken conversation in Windhelm.

How could she have been so intoxicated she slipped out her biggest secret to a perfect stranger? She’d swear it had never happened before, not even in Jorrvaskar when she had been more drunk than that night. If none of her dearest friends knew, why had she told him? And how in the Oblivion could he still remember it?

She bit her lip as he moved to the fire. The dawn was still some time away, but she didn’t bother getting back to sleep. Natsu probably felt the same. He took a piece of bread and dried meat from his bag to break his fast. Erza wasn’t hungry, but she sat there with him, trying to think of something to say. Only the crepitating melody of grasshoppers sounded in the night.

”Lucy’s mad at me”, Natsu suddenly mumbled, his mouth half-full with dry bread. Erza raised her brow, and he swallowed with a sip of water before he continued. ”How do I stop her from being mad?”

”Depends on why she’s mad.”

The mage chewed more dried meat, the silence lasting long enough Erza thought he would never answer.

”Because I told her I’ll join the Stormcloaks and she thinks I’ll die, but I won’t.”

”You goddamn moron”, Erza sighed, burying her face into her palm. She had seen yesterday how upset Lucy had been, but she hadn’t mentioned that, not even with a single word. ”She’s obviously mad at you because she doesn’t want to lose any more people, Natsu!”

”But I’m not going to -”

”Every fucking soldier says that, and then they die. She knows that. And you aren’t a soldier. You don’t have the slightest piece of discipline. As a soldier, you have to obey orders, which you just can’t do.”

How ironic it was that she had talked about her father yesterday for the first time in years. She had grown up in the shade of her father’s decision and wouldn’t wish the same for anyone. Only a complete fool would join a war voluntarily. She was certain of that.

”I won’t let them get away from what they did”, Natsu replied stubbornly, unable to argue her.

”The civil war has nothing to do with your friend’s death. If you want someone dead, do it yourself or… or perform the black sacrament or something, whatever suits you best.”

Erza immediately realised she shouldn’t have said that when the mage’s eyes sparked.

”Having the Dark Brotherhood assassinate them?” Natsu asked, grinning and rubbing his chin. ”You have an idea. Tell that to the fiance of yours, save me from the trouble of doing the sacrament.”

Erza shook her head as blood rushed to her cheeks. ”I don’t have a fiance -”

”You know what? You’re a horrible liar.” The mage smirked and Erza cursed him in her mind. ”How have you managed to keep it secret all these years?”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about -”

”His name was Jellal, right?”

Erza sighed, burying her face into her hands again. Trying to lie to him now was pointless. He knew, and that was final. The damage was already done.

”… for fuck’s sake.”

”Look, I don’t care who you are with. I’m not here to judge you”, Natsu said. He finished eating and drank the rest of his water. ”Be it a guy from the Brotherhood, a vampire, or a Daedric Lord, I don’t give a shit. People should be free to choose their partners.”

”It would be great, though”, Erza replied quietly. How many times had she wished that? ”But there isn’t that kind of freedom in this world.”

Natsu added more wood to the campfire to prevent it from dying. The darkness around them had faded into blue, and birds had started singing to mark the breaking of the dawn. For a moment Natsu stared into the flames like they were a god. Erza wondered if he saw something in the flames no-one else could see but didn’t bother to ask.

”What would happen if someone found out?” Natsu asked, still looking into the fire.

”The Jarl’s men would probably torture the sanctuary's location out of me, and then have me executed for treason”, Erza answered. That’s why Jellal never told her where the Brotherhood's hiding place was – he had made it rather clear what would happen to her, and everyone else. ”Dark Brotherhood was once the most feared organization in all of Tamriel, but now there’s only one sanctuary left. All the others have been destroyed. They’re barely hanging by a thread, fighting for their mere existence.”

Natsu raised his gaze from the campfire and looked straight into Erza. Was that compassion in his eyes? Erza wasn’t sure. Maybe.

”That must suck”, he said. ”Not being able to see who you care about.”

Erza smiled faintly. ”It does.”

Natsu’s brow furrowed as he sunk into his thoughts, trying to form a proper idea before speaking it out. ”Why don’t you, uhm, make him wear a mask or something? It’s not like anyone could recognise him. Everyone who has seen his face is probably dead. Give him a fake name and a fake backstory. A disguise. Say that he’s your friend from High Rock. No-one would doubt it. That way you could meet him in public and do… whatever couples do, I don’t know, but it could work.”

”Whatever couples do?”

”Yeah? My parents used to go fishing together. Isn’t that what couples do?”

Erza wanted to laugh, the poor boy still not realising that his parents were never actually fishing. Jellal’s parents always went to feed the goats at night and so on… Ignorance was bliss Natsu never grew out from.

”Fishing? Well, there are many ways to put that I guess...”

”Doesn’t really matter anyway, that’s none of my concern, but wouldn’t it be cool if you could be able to just… I don’t know, walk down the city streets with him? When the rules aren’t fair, you gotta cheat.”

Erza hid her smile. He actually had an idea – sometimes he could be smart if he just tried. In his own way at least.

”You know, I’ll kill you if you tell anyone”, the warrior said to him, half-joking, half-serious.

”I might have told Lucy.”

Erza rolled her eyes, crossing her arms on her chest as Natsu laughed nervously. She wasn’t surprised.

”Anyone else?”

”Igneel probably overheard our discussion back then, but it’s not like he’ll gossip about it now.”

”Well, that’s acceptable, I guess.” Erza said. ”It’s actually… good that at least someone knows. Secrets can be… hard to carry alone.”

Natsu didn’t say anything. Erza heard quiet movement behind them. It was Lucy who crawled out of the tent. The first rays of the dawn pierced through the blue moment.

”Good morning”, she said. ”Did I oversleep again?”

”Not at all”, Erza answered. ”Come, let’s eat breakfast before we leave. We’ll reach Kynesgrove at noon if we hurry, giving us enough daylight to explore the burial site.”

And now as she realised today would be the day, fear crept back to her heart. No matter what they would find there, she had to stay brave. Jellal had promised to keep her safe, but he wasn’t there now. He could never be.

She just wished he could.

There ain’t no use worrying about the things you can’t change.

For the entire morning, Lucy kept repeating that thought in her mind. The realization came to her while she slept, her emotions drifted to the background as reason replaced them. She had woken up to Natsu’s laughter and realised there was no point in being sad for him. He wasn’t sad about it either. If his choice to join the war made him happy, who was she to stop him? And maybe he was right. Maybe he wouldn’t die. He’d come back and then they could be friends again. Or then Lucy would have moved on and made other friends in the College. Whatever was going to happen, Lucy was now sure that all would go exactly as it was supposed to go.

Lucy rested her eyes on the road. The volcanic area was coming to an end, the trees now growing taller and thicker than before. She could see the silhouette of Windhelm in the distance. If they kept their stop in Kynesgrove brief they’d make it to the city tonight. Lucy had never been in a city so big. Whiterun was the largest settlement she had visited in her life. She was excited to see the old City of Kings, but she hoped Erza would be there with them. So, preparing to say goodbye, Lucy clung to Erza’s side, trying to get the most out of the time they had left.

”Kynesgrove is right behind that hill”, Erza said, pointing forward. ”There ain’t much to see. The Braidwood Inn serves as a resting place for travellers and those who work in the malachite mine. I’ll go drop my things there first before checking the dragon’s grave.”

Lucy nodded. ”What do you expect to find?”

”Well, there’s this thing I heard...” the warrior sighed, her tone suddenly low. ”All the mounds of the East are found empty. Their remains are gone. In the worst-case scenario, they’re flying in the sky while we speak.”

Lucy stared at Erza with widened eyes. Chills ran down her spine. ”Really? Empty? Just… how?” One dragon had been terrifying enough, but what if there was more?

”I don’t know. I’m hoping it’s just bandits digging up the dragon bones. Whatever it is, we might find out today.”

”Bandits?” Natsu joined the conversation, having walked behind them in silence for a while now. ”No way. It has to be giants!”

”Giants?” Lucy wondered.

”Yeah. They discovered that dragon bone is harder than mammoth bone, that’s why they’re digging them up. That way they get better clubs. That’s my theory, and I’m pretty sure of it.”

”We’ll see about that soon enough”, Erza answered, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe him. As a Companion, she had dealt with giants multiple times and surely knew more about their behaviour than the mage.

Lucy imagined a dragon’s rib bone used as a giant’s club, and it was quite fitting, to be honest. However, she didn’t support his theory either. From what she had observed yesterday and today, the giant’s weren’t the most intelligent of creatures. She had no theory of her own, only curiosity to find out how the burial mounds became to be empty.

They arrived in Kynesgrove at midday. People were busy working in the mine and the crops, no-one paying any attention to the visitors. The innkeeper was the only idle one, polishing the cups and tankards as the three of them stepped into the inn. Erza rented herself a room while Natsu and Lucy ate a late lunch. Lucy had a bowl of cheesy vegetable soup and Natsu devoured a roasted goat’s leg. He had a bottomless stomach, it seemed, Lucy feeling full just looking at him stuffing the meat into his mouth.

After everyone had eaten, Lucy left her backpack in Erza’s room, only taking her bow and arrows with her. She had grown more familiar with her weapon over the last few days, but she hadn’t used it in real combat yet, excluding the trolls in the mountain pass. If she counted right she had ten arrows left. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

When they stepped out, it seemed like the night had already fallen, even though the sunset was hours away. The skies had grown dark, stormclouds eclipsing the sun. Silence had fallen, the song of the birds ceased.

”Strange how fast the weather changed”, Erza pointed out. ”I’m sure it was clear before we got in.”

”It’s always like this in the north”, Natsu answered, not affected by Erza’s concern. ”A snowstorm is coming. If it hits, we’ll stay here for the night, right, Lucy?”

Lucy agreed. The taste she had of a snowstorm back in the mountains had been enough. She almost hoped it would start to snow. That way she’d got to spend another evening with Erza and delay the goodbyes.

The burial mound was uphill from the inn, deep in the pine forest. Erza asked from the miners along the way if they had seen any suspicious activity there, and the answer was no. The people of Kynesgrove thought of the grave as a fraud. The dragons were nothing more than a way to scare insolent children. ’There’s no way the dragons could still exist’, an old miner had said. ’They say Helgen got hit by one, but I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.’

Lucy wrapped the cloak tighter around herself as they climbed up, the air growing colder each step. It didn’t feel like an upcoming blizzard to her, but an upcoming thunder. It was like a cloud of pressuring mist had fallen on earth, heavy and suffocating.

Suddenly she remembered feeling exactly like that once before.

Lucy halted, causing the mage and the warrior to turn towards her.

”What is it?” Erza asked. Lucy shook her head, forcing the distressing thoughts away from her mind.

”Nothing”, she answered. ”Let’s keep going.”

While Erza nodded and carried on, Natsu’s quizzical gaze stayed on her a moment longer. Lucy didn’t say anything to him as she hurried after Erza. She was excited to see the dragon’s grave too, and wouldn’t want to miss it if the storm would really hit.

But then a gush of wind threw her off her feet.

Too terrified to let out a single sound, Lucy caught Natsu’s sleeve as she fell, pulling him down with her. The rapid flow of air forced Erza to crouch to keep her balance. Lucy turned her head to see the mage, the fearful look in his eyes embodying the thing they both already realised.

A shadow flashed over them as black wings covered the skies, each wingstroke pushing air forward like a cyclone. Lucy clenched her nails to the ground, holding onto something as her mind tried to make sense of the thing flying towards the burial site. And when it screeched, Lucy knew what it was.

A dragon.

Lucy held her breath and watched as the dragon stopped on top of the hill, flapping its wings to stay still. Stony, black scales covered its skin, so thick nothing would penetrate them. Large horns grew on its head and a trail of spikes followed down its spine, and its talons were as long as Lucy’s arms. Lucy had seen it before, there was no doubt of it. It was the same dragon which had attacked Helgen.

Natsu got up and helped Lucy on her feet. The two of them hurried to Erza who sat on the ground, petrified from fear. Lucy flinched as she saw the warrior’s eyes blank, her face pale as milk.

”Get up now”, Natsu said to the Companion, lending his hand out for her. ”Come on! There’s no time to waste!”

Erza didn’t even blink as a reply. Her horrified stare was locked on the black dragon, her entire body shaking and her voice quiet as a whisper as she finally spoke.

”This… This is it. Sovngarde… awaits...”

Natsu slapped her as she refused to take his hand. Her head swung to the side, submissive and weak. Lucy hadn’t even imagined she’d ever see her so hopelessly terrified.

”That’s how Nord heroes went to Sovngarde? Like cowards?” the mage hissed, trying to sound as serious as he could without drawing the dragon’s attention. ”No! They faced their deaths with courage and earned their place in that fucking mead hall!”

Erza shook her head frantically. ”Are you blind? There’s… There’s no way we can kill that thing! There’s no way we can escape from it! We’re dead! Dead!”

”Then prove your mettle in battle and die fighting, that’s the Erza I know!” Natsu shouted now. Shivering from fear, Lucy glanced at the flying beast. It hadn’t noticed them, or if it had, it didn’t care. ”But me and Lucy, we’ve faced that thing before and we lived to tell about it. So come on, let’s see what the fuck it’s doing up there!”

Natsu grabbed Erza’s left hand while Lucy took the right, and together they pulled her on her feet. She tried to resist, her legs getting limp and weak, her heavy armour not making it any easier to help her. They carried her off the road and hid behind a large rock. Sobbing, Erza collapsed to the ground when they let go of her. Lucy could barely breathe. If a brave Companion was paralyzed from fear, what could she do?

Lucy caught Natsu’s sleeve again as they peeked to see the grave and the creature circling above it. A pillar of light rose skyward from the burial mound, resonating power so ancient and obscure. The word wall yesterday had resonated the same magic, the magic of the dragons. Lucy noticed how Natsu’s hands quivered – even his insane courage was starting to crumble. Did they survive Helgen only to die a week later in another dragon attack?

The dragon spoke, chanting words a human couldn’t understand. Lucy’s lungs trembled as the low, growling sound resonated inside of her.

”Sahlkoniir, ziil do doval ulse! Slen Tiid Vo!”

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat when the dragon’s shout shattered the stone lid covering the grave. Rocks flew through the air as strange power emerged from the ground. Gigantic bones crawled out from the hole, forming the shape of another dragon. As flesh and scales began to rejuvenate around the skeleton, it replied to the black dragon.

”Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?”

The dragon on the ground turned its head towards their hiding place, and Lucy pressed herself against the mage as the dragon’s hollow eyesockets found her.

It was like Helgen all over again.

Except worse.

Hope you enjoyed the first part of this chapter! Sorry, I left it in a cliffhanger, I promise to write the next part fast. The second part will be one big battle scene and I thought it would be overwhelming if this would have been like 10k long one chunk. What do you think it's going to happen next?

Chapter Text

How many days had it been? Natsu had lost count. Maybe three or four. He leaned against the wooden bench and lowered his eyes to avoid the sun’s burning rays. The last stop had been before the sunrise, and so nausea had cumulated to the point where he thought he’d die before the execution. Or maybe that’s what they tried, to drive a motion sick man to death so they wouldn’t be the ones to blame.

And as he felt bile rising up his throat again, he turned around to vomit, scarlet fluid flooding from his mouth to the ground. Exhausted, he let his head hung on the other side of the cart and watched how the cobbled stones and mountain flowers ran beneath him. He had grown familiar to that sight lately.

”Again? Ugh”, Igneel commented scornfully.

If Natsu had any strength left, he’d punch him. ”Fuck you.”

”I’d give you water if I had any.”

Natsu scoffed. ”And if our hands weren’t tied, idiot.”

He was dying for a drink to wash the taste of iron from his mouth with. When they stopped to water the horses, each prisoner was given bread and drink and a chance to take a piss. Why such hospitality if they’d all be killed anyway? However, the small meals he had ended up on the side of the road as soon as the carts moved again. He’d never known why, but every time he travelled by a horse carriage, his insides twisted into a miserable mess and he threw up endlessly until the cart would stop.

”Don’t worry”, Igneel said, his tone calm and empathetic.”It’ll be over soon.”

Natsu raised his gaze from the ground. The city walls rose at the end of the road with Legion banners wavering in the wind. Igneel had meant his suffering would be over soon, but his life would end at the same. And after the long days of torture, Natsu was almost eager to die. That way it would be guaranteed he’d never have to travel again.

Igneel pulled him up, the momentum feeling like his brains slid into the back of his skull. Natsu mumbled silent curses and didn’t mind the stares he got from the two soldiers sitting on the other side of the cart. He wasn’t supposed to be there, he knew. He wasn't a rebel. Maybe the Imperial captain would change their mind about his sentence. His crimes had nothing to do with the damn war anyway. The Jarl of Riften was supposed to be his judge, not the Legion. Five or ten years in prison would’ve been the most likely punishment. Natsu had once said he’d rather die than go to prison, but now that he was actually going to die, he wasn’t so sure about it anymore.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now.

One of the Stormcloak rebels chanted the names of the Divines, but none one the Nine would come to his aid. Natsu knew that. There was no point in asking help from things which didn’t even exist. One could as well pray for a fucking dragon to come and save them, the result would be the same. The guards opened the city gates as the carts drove in. Natsu had never been in Helgen before, but the stone walls and towers somehow reminded him of Dragonbridge and Solitude. Funny how Imperial cities used to make him feel so safe when he had been a boy.

The carriage slowed its pace, and his nausea eased a bit. He let the buildings pass before his eyes, nothing particular catching his attention. The citizens were living their life as usual and had grown used to these macabre shows the Legion kept arranging for them. Parents gathered their children indoors as if walls and shutters would protect them from what was happening in this country. What would they feel if their sons and daughters were sitting in the carts instead? Natsu didn’t know why he wondered that. What would his father think if he’d know where his son was headed? Would they even let his father know he’d been killed?

For the smallest moment Natsu regretted not staying in touch with dad, but the thought was gone as quickly as it had come. Natsu noticed how people stopped to stare, their eyes fixated on Ulfric Stormloack sitting in the first cart, bound and gagged. While not everyone had seen him before, rumours of him had spread all across Skyrim. Today he’d be the top attraction of the damn show. More faces appeared to the windows and porches, making Natsu feel almost famous.

A thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance when Natsu glanced at Igneel. The Dark Elf stared at his own feet, his copper brown hair covering his face. He had fallen deep into his thoughts, but Natsu wasn’t in a mood for conversation either. There was nothing left to say anymore. Natsu had already said his last wish, and it was to be the first of them to die. Igneel had accepted that. There wasn’t much Natsu feared in life, but after witnessing mother’s death he didn’t want to lose anyone before his own eyes again.

Behind his friend, Natsu saw a young woman in a yellow dress looking at the prisoners. She leaned to the wooden parapet, autumn wind swaying her fair hair. Natsu didn’t know why, but somehow she looked dissociated from the scene, like she did not belong there. Like a swan amongst the chicken. Suddenly the girl turned to look at him, their eyes meeting for a brief second until Natsu turned his head away. He didn’t know why he had looked at her for so long. Maybe it was just a distraction for a mind which would soon be dead, but either way, it didn’t matter anymore. The carts stopped at the plaza and soldiers commanded the prisoners to get up.

The commander found their names in the list and send them to the line. Natsu’s legs tingled as blood flowed back to them after long sitting. He stood by Igneel’s side with a strange calmness in his heart. He’d soon be gone, but it wasn’t that bad. The life he had lived had been full. Short, but full. His lips almost twitched into a smile when he thought of the adventures he had with his best friend. Somehow he had always known they’d die together, side by side as brothers. The Legion captain told the priestess of Arkay to give the prisoner their last rites.

”As we commend your souls to Aetherius, the blessings of the Eight upon you, for you are the salt and the earth of Nirn, our beloved -”

”For the love of Azura, shut up and let’s get this over with!” Igneel shouted. The priestess lowered her arms, nodded and prayed no more. Igneel, of all of them, had no use for her prayers.

And suddenly, everyone’s heads turned towards the Dark Elf. Natsu felt his chest tightening as the captain grinned.

”As you wish”, the commander said and soldiers came to grab Igneel from arms, despite he wasn’t the first on the line.

Pure terror pumped through Natsu’s heart as he was left behind and realised what would happen next. He wouldn’t let that happen! His hands were tied behind his back, but it didn’t stop him from fighting. He squirmed, writhed and kicked with all his might. More soldiers came to hold him still as he screamed them to stop, to take him instead, but they did not listen. Igneel’s eyes found his once more.

”You’ve got this, brother”, Igneel whispered as the soldiers pressed him to the block.

The sound of thunder got buried under Natsu’s desperate shout. Tears blinded his vision as they flooded down his face, and he despised himself for letting his tears be the last thing Igneel would ever see.

And a single swing of an axe was all it took to tear a young man’s heart into a million tiny shreds.

As Igneel’s head dropped to the ground, everything in Natsu’s world went blank. The rapid beating in his chest came to a perfect still, leaving only the throbbing, wrenching pain behind.

Suddenly and without a warning, everything came to an end. He had wanted to die bravely, not crying like a baby. The peaceful death he had wished for became nothing more than a youthful, naive lie, violently torn away right in front of his very own eyes. They dragged Igneel’s headless corpse away like he was nothing but slaughtered cattle.

The soldiers dissolved into the white fog, blood turned colourless and all noises around him faded. Only the ringing in his ears remained. Someone grabbed him by the neck and dragged him forward in the mist, laid him down, a pressure on his back keeping him from writhing away. It had to be a soldier’s boot, the steel as cold as their fucking hearts.

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance again, the only sound reaching through the senseless humming. It brought him back to the moment. He opened his eyes, tilted his head to the side to face the headsman and his greataxe. A shape of a tower formed from the whiteness behind the man.

Natsu’s eyes followed the axe as it rose from the ground, his gaze catching a strange shadow in the sky. It grew larger and larger, spreading its wings as it landed on the watchtower, the entire plaza staggered by its impact. When did ravens become so big? Since when did they have horns?

But when its mighty roar pierced through Natsu’s bones, he knew it wasn’t a raven.

The screech tore the axe from the headsman’s hands. It dropped and missed Natsu’s head by mere inches. Frozen and numb, he stared at the winged creature, feeling absolutely nothing.

Everyone around him screamed, shouted commands, called for the archers, but not a single thought crossed his mind. Stone and wood came grumbling down and fire spread from the creature’s mouth, setting everything on its way ablaze. Paralyzed, he stared at the destruction, but it failed to evoke any fear in him.

Why should he be afraid when the worst possible thing had already happened to him?

Then the creature shouted again, and a sudden gust of wind threw him around like a lifeless ragdoll. His head smashed to the rocky ground. For a brief moment, the whiteness faded into black, until another shout reached through the dark. A human’s shout.

”Rise!”

A knife cut through the rope around his wrists. Natsu rolled around and saw a young, brown-haired man with a dagger in his hand. The man ran through the flames and the smoke before Natsu could thank him.

Natsu stood up on trembling legs and stared around, finding absolutely nothing to grasp on. He stretched his arms which ached from the days of being bound behind his back. The creature soared right over him, breathing fire like a dragon from the children’s storybook.

Except that it wasn’t like a dragon. It was a dragon.

What in the Oblivion was going on?

In a matter of a few minutes, the dragon had turned the lively town into a fiery pit of chaos. The store he had passed by was now in ruins, so was the inn next to it. Only charred corpses were left of the busy people he had just seen, and those who were still alive ran around in panic, hysterically screaming the names of their loved ones. The children cried, dogs howled, horses galloped frantically searching for a safe place.

Natsu’s eyes caught something under the collapsed wall; the fair hair of the girl who had stood on the porch, watching him, looking like she didn’t belong there. Like a swan amongst the chicken.

And when the girl moved her hand, Natsu realised that she didn’t belong under that burning wood either. No-one else noticed she was still alive. Everyone focused on their own survival, too scared to risk their lives to help her. But Natsu had nothing left to lose. He was already past the time he was supposed to die, so why not give it a try? He was still alive, still existing, and had to use that for something better than standing frozen in the middle of chaos.

She became the catalyst to move him out of that still, paralyzed point. The red string to follow on. It wasn’t much, she could die the second he’d get her out, but it was something. Natsu took the first step and then another, still weak and powerless under the weight of the immeasurable loss. He kept moving forward until he reached the girl, dodging the flying rocks and flames along his way.

He wouldn’t watch anyone die in front of his eyes anymore, and so he grabbed her arm and pulled.

"Hey, girl, wake up. Wake up now. We have to get out of here."

When the dragon’s hollow eyes found them, only one thought entered Natsu’s mind. He wouldn’t let that red string slip through his fingers, no matter what it would take. The decision he had made in Helgen still kept.

He wouldn’t watch anyone else die.

Acting out of his instinct, Natsu pulled Lucy behind the rock right before the dragon opened its mouth and breathed fire. Flames surrounded the stone, turning the air so intensely hot it burned his lungs. With his heart drumming in his throat he tried to come up with a strategy to survive this. The black dragon glided over them and spoke again.

”Nivahriin jorre, dir ko maar!”

Natsu didn’t know what it meant, but the tone in its voice resonated pure arrogance as if they were only insects on its way. The light circling around the dragon’s grave faded out, the ceremony or whatever it was doing now over. Its deed now done, the dragon rose above the trees and veered towards the mountains.

”What the fuck? It’s just leaving?” Natsu whispered and watched as if flew east, faster than anything he’d ever seen. It disappeared from his sight, but he wasn’t relieved. Not at all.

”One dragon is better than two”, Lucy answered. ”But what will we do?”

The ground quaked as the dragon behind them took its first steps in a thousand years. The mine’s entrance opened as people rushed out to see what was going on, their faces growing pale as their eyes found the dragon. The man who had sworn he wouldn’t believe dragons existed until he’d see one with his own eyes, was there too, with his breeches now wet.

Natsu pressed his back against the stone. Erza curled up in a hopeless ball at their feet, sobbing her heart out of fear. The mage had never seen anyone being so afraid, but he could understand why. There were many terrifying things in Skyrim – ice wraths, walking skeletons, giant spiders and giants, but none of them compared against a dragon. Natsu had absolutely no idea what to do. Should they run? Should they hide? Or should they fight?

”It will destroy Kynesgrove first, and then head to Windhelm”, Natsu replied quietly, the words coming to his mouth without thinking. ”And that’s bad. Like really fucking bad.”

Lucy crouched to pat Erza’s back. The warrior didn’t seem to hear what they were talking about. ”I know, but what do we -”

”We fight that thing.”

”How!?”

There was only one thing he knew. If that dragon had been put to its grave once before, it could be done again. ”I’ve my magic and this dagger”, Natsu said. ”You have your ten arrows. Better make them count.”

Natsu peeked behind the stone again, the dragon’s focus now on the miners. It was a lot smaller than the big black one, but still larger than a mammoth. Its bones collected muscles around them, and green scales formed as their shield. Where there had been only a bare skull a minute ago was now a living dragon’s head, it’s eyes now as black as the night. The beast kept crawling forward, pulling itself with its wing bones – and Natsu realised one important thing.

”It cannot fly before its wings are restored”, Natsu said to Lucy, who replied with a nod. She had released her bow from the straps and searched for her arrows. ”We have to kill it while it’s down, or we’re doomed.”

Without hesitating furthermore, Natsu summoned a flame atronach on the beast’s way and sprinted to the road. The men who stood on the base of the hill had no fighting experience, especially against a dragon, but all of them had pickaxes. That counted as something. There wasn’t much he and Lucy alone could do to a dragon when Erza was paralyzed from fear.

”Don’t just stand there doing nothing!” Natsu shouted at the miners, who barely seemed to hear him. ”One of you dumb fucks runs to Windhelm right now to get the guards and soldiers over here!”

There were a dozen men but only the youngest of them, a boy probably at Natsu’s age, nodded back to him. He tossed the pickaxe away, turned around and ran as fast as he could – and Natsu only hoped he’d head to Windhelm instead of chickening away. Even in the best case it would take a while for soldiers to arrive, and everyone’s effort was needed to keep the beast at bay until then. But none of the men did a fucking thing.

”Pick your fucking axes and fight!”

Natsu heard a snarling sound behind him, and all the miners ran away screaming. He froze, the ground quaking at the rhythm of the fast-approaching steps.

”Yol Thoor Shul!”

Just before he got caught in the inferno, he crouched and raised his arms to cover his body. A shield of blue magic formed from his command, the Steadfast Ward, a restoration spell he so rarely used. He kept it up as flames surrounded him into an embrace more hot and intense than anything he’d ever known. The boiling hot spring was cold compared to dragonfire – and as he felt his magicka draining, he knew he couldn’t risk lowering his guard anymore. Sweat ran down his forehead as the fire dissolved. He patted the hem of his robe to smother the sparkles so they wouldn’t spread. If not for Igneel’s scarf, nothing but ashes would be left of him.

His atronach was gone – while fire didn’t work on flame atronach, nothing matched a dragon’s physical strength. Nothing. The beast had probably just picked the atronach into its mouth and grind it into dust. While he couldn’t risk getting too close to its fangs and talons, he couldn’t stay too far either or he’d get caught in its fire. The dragon had to be distracted, but how?

”Natsu!” Lucy shouted, the beast immediately turning its ugly head towards her.

Definitely not like that.

Natsu put his hands together and cast a firebolt, painfully aware of how much more costly dual casting was. While it made the spell much more powerful, it came with a price. Natsu aimed and threw the flaming ball towards the dragon, the beast staggering as it exploded on its side. As he had intended, it lost interest in Lucy and focused solely on him again. It stared at the mage, the brief moment facing that beast eye to the eye feeling like an eternity.

The dragon inhaled air and Natsu jumped sideways, rolling on the ground as the beast exhaled fire right where he had just stood. He had no time to stand up, for the dragon stroke its wings at him, a cloud of dust puffing into the air. Blindly, he crawled out of the road and into the forest. He breathed heavily as he took support from the tree as he rose up.

The dust settled, letting Natsu see how far he had stranded from Lucy and Erza. They were left alone on the other side of the road. On the other side of a dragon. As its tail swung in front of him Natsu understood the dragon was facing them now. Silently, Natsu cursed at himself and created another firebolt.

”Hey you ugly, overgrown lizard! Leave them alone!” he shouted and launched the firebolt. It struck on the dragons back, the creature staggering as it exploded. But besides that, there was no damage. Not a scale had bent, not even a drop of blood shed. Was it resistant to flames?

”I see that mortals have become arrogant while I slept.”

Staggered, Natsu could not believe what he had heard. The dragon’s deep, growling voice formed words of a human tongue, directed straight at him. Quickly, Natsu glanced at Lucy, her expression equally shocked.

”You can fucking speak!?”

”Of course I can! I am Sahlkonir! Hear my voice and despair!”

An arrow flew past him and struck the dragon’s wing, piercing through the half-restored skin. Natsu turned and saw the innkeeper standing next to her inn, holding a fully drawn bow in her hands. Though the mist blurred most of her, Natsu could see her wearing nothing but her brown dress. Her arms shivered, not out of fear, but out of the cold. Fierce determination shone through her eyes as something the cowardly miners could only envy.

”Don’t you dare to destroy my inn, you bastard!” the woman cried and shot another arrow. It found its way into the dragon’s neck. Blood burst from the wound as the beast roared in pain. ”Go back to where you came from!”

The miners who hid in the wheat crops peeked at her, and Natsu could feel their shame from afar. He held his breath as the dragon screeched and sprinted downhill as if it completely forgot his existence. The innkeeper stood her ground against an approaching dragon, drawing and releasing another arrow. Natsu turned to look at Lucy, who followed the innkeeper’s example and readied her own bow. Her eyes calmed down as she focused, aimed and released the string. The dragon shrieked again as Lucy’s arrow flew straight through its open rib bones, hitting somewhere in its insides. Against his hope, the dragon didn’t slow down. Not at all.

Natsu’s stomach sunk as it reached the innkeeper, caught her between its jaws and tossed her body away. She screamed as she landed in the field. Two men ran to her, possibly her husband and son. When the miners picked up their pickaxes and charged into a battle, Natsu rushed back to Lucy and Erza. It wasn’t safe to get separated anymore, he knew. Rogue attacks would be as good as suicide.

”Fire doesn’t work against it”, Natsu said quietly. Lucy shot another arrow as the dragon worked to dodge the swings of the axes. ”Fuck, that beast breathes fire, what was I even thinking when I thought it would work.”

”Iron arrows don’t do much either, it’s scales are too thick”, she answered with a sigh. Lucy gathered her bow in her left hand, but the look in her eyes showed she hadn’t given up yet.

She created a portal to Oblivion with her free hand, purple light dancing on her palm as she summoned her familiar. Natsu realised the same thing as her. If flames or arrows did no damage, maybe another beast would. Natsu summoned his own wolf and commanded the ghostly creature to follow Lucy’s. Together they trotted down the hill and sunk their fangs in the dragon’s tail, only to be swept away in an instant. Natsu grit his teeth as he watched how the wolves faded back to Oblivion, whining as they died again.

Though he had sworn he wouldn’t feel despair, now the hopelessness of their situation began to dawn at him.

Natsu grabbed the warrior’s shoulder and shook her. ”Erza, we need you and your sword. Get up now!”

With blank, lifeless eyes she stared at the dragon and flinched every time she heard a miner’s scream. ”No”, Erza whispered, staying perfectly still. She squeezed her legs against her chest, curling up like a terrified child.

”Oh c’mon. We’ll all die if -”

Erza shook her head. ”We’ll all die if we don’t escape now.”

”We can’t let it -”

”How can you not see?” she turned her eyes to Natsu, and the mage flinched as she raised her voice. ”Just look at it. It thinks of us as low as if we’re nothing but ants. It knows we can’t do anything! We’re nothing but insects in the eyes of a dragon!”

Natsu averted her gaze and watched how the miners fought against the dragon. The pickaxes bounced back from its scales. Nothing seemed to work. The dragon swung its tail and ripped men open with its talons as if it did it for its own entertainment. It didn’t even eat them. Natsu had seen it back in Helgen – the dragons didn’t prey on humans to feed, but to wipe them off existence and claim the world as theirs once again.

And yet he still stubbornly tried to deny that.

”If the dragons were killed in the past, they can be killed again”, he said and tried to get her to stand up. Her sword was sharper than the pickaxes, maybe it could work. ”Damn you’re heavy! Lucy, help me.”

Erza yanked her arms closer to her body before Lucy even toucher her. Natsu let his grip go. If Erza really wanted to sit there doing nothing, he couldn’t help it. Lucy secured the bow in her back again and hung her head in defeat.

”The ancient Nords knew their tongue, they could use the same power as them. We don’t!” Erza cried as tears ran down her cheeks. ”And even if we could kill them, the black dragon would resurrect them again, and again, and again! It’s the end times. The end times have come, and what can we do about it? Nothing!”

”Then we just kill them again, and again, and again. I don’t know about you Companions, but I won’t surrender so easily.”

”Natsu -”

The mage formed a fireball, the stronger version of a regular firebolt and tossed it at the dragon. Black smoke surrounded the beast and maybe blinded it for a moment, but soon it continued the slaughter as nothing had happened. Lucy pulled Natsu’s sleeve and forced him into an eye-contact. The determination in her gaze was gone.

”Natsu, please”, she pleaded. ”Just… don’t.”

The mage blinked. ”Lucy?”

”If… If we escape now… we’ll make it to Winterhold… right?”

Tears glimmered in her eyes as her words began to shiver. Natsu fell speechless and let his gaze drop to the ground. Maybe she was right. Everyone who stayed in Helgen had died. Everyone who would stay there now would die.

Natsu’s heart skipped a beat as a blast of wild wind hit his face. He raised his head and forgot to breathe. Wings spread wide over the treetops as the dragon rose up, its life restored enough to let it fly for the first time in centuries. It let out a delighted roar which echoed all across the mountains, the song of the dragons no longer silenced.

Suddenly, Natsu’s legs refused to move. His gaze followed the dragon as it flew over them and stopped to hover above its empty grave like an ironic icon. Could Erza be right? With the black dragon rising the others from the dead and no-one knowing how to kill them, was the world really going to be overrun by them? Would they really fill the skies and reign in fiery chaos? Those who believed the dragons were only a legend would die in terror, and those who’d survive would be enslaved by them, their pride removed and humanity reduced to the level of an ant.

And that’s how small he felt when the dragon locked eyes with them again. As small as an ant. As if smirking in pleasure, the dragon opened its mouth and Natsu knew what would happen next. With nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide, he stepped in front of Lucy to cover her before the dragon shouted.

”FUS... RO DAH!”

The shout summoned a powerful force from the dragon’s throat, its raw strength pushing aside anything and anyone standing in its wake. And just as if he’d ran into a stone wall, the unrelenting force dashed against his body and threw all three of them down the hill.

Like lifeless dolls.

Air burst out from Lucy’s lungs as she slammed to the ground, not knowing how far she had ended up. Her head spun as she struggled to catch her breath, her life flashing before her eyes. She had landed on her back, and when she couldn’t find her toes, she feared the worst. But then her legs moved as she rolled around, her fingers clawing the dry grass underneath her. None of her bones felt broken, but her every muscle throbbed in pain. Staggered, she pulled herself back up and looked around, trying to find a hint of Natsu or Erza.

A glimpse of scarlet stood up from the wheat crops as Erza rose. Her forehead bled, but otherwise, she looked uninjured. Lucy flinched as a mighty roar filled the skies like thunder when the dragon soared above them, flying in circles as if it was looking for them. Panic began to spread in her chest when she couldn’t find Natsu anywhere. He had been there just a minute ago, but now he was nowhere in sight. The surviving miners ran around, some dragged their unconscious or dead loved ones into someplace safe like they’d wake up once the dragon would have gone away.

Except that there wasn’t safe anywhere in this land, not anymore.

Lucy’s heart sunk as her eyes found the innkeeper lying in a pool of blood, her son and husband beside her, their bodies ripped apart. She raised her shivering hands on her mouth, the sickness in her stomach forcing her to look away from the grisly scene. Fiercely shaking her head, she tried to command her legs to run, run as fast as they could and as far as they could carry, but they wouldn’t move an inch. She stood there frozen, staring at the abandoned pickaxes and the malachite ores next to the smelter waiting to be turned into ingots. They’d have to wait forever.

Lucy’s eyes ripped open when the cinders by the smelter moved, the charcoal pile forming into the shape of a human. It turned around, a strand of something pink contrasting against the blackness. Lucy realized it wasn't a charcoal pile.

”Natsu!”

Lucy ran across the yard and collapsed on her knees by his side. He didn’t answer, but his eyes found hers, the greens lit in pain. Slowly, his right hand moved to hold the left, blood soaking through his fingers. Lucy’s guts twisted in terror.

”S-shit...” the mage groaned and pulled up his sleeve, making Lucy gasp. A deep, jagged wound ran from his wrist to his elbow, crimson liquid pulsing out in the rhythm of his frantic heartbeat. ”Oh well, it’s… It’s nothing...”

He had a small cut on his cheek, too, and maybe several others all around his body. Many iron instruments laid on the ground beneath him, some of which Lucy had seen used in smelting ores. Of all the places on fucking earth he had landed on a set of blacksmith’s tools. Lucy had known his luck would run out sometime, but why did it have to run out like that?

Not knowing what to do, Lucy’s hands waved rapidly before falling to her lap. ”No, that’s… that’s bad!”

Natsu bent forward to sit, but the pain made him fold in two. Blood stained his white scarf and no matter how hard he squeezed the wound, the bleeding didn’t cease. Red drops fell on the dry grass, and the moment he lifted his hand a bit, blood sprayed from the wound in thin strings.

”I’m… I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine… fuck...”

”You can close that with magic, can’t you?” Lucy asked, speaking so fast it almost couldn’t be understood. Natsu stared at his wound as if he struggled to realise it was his own arm. From the way his face lost all colour, Lucy knew he wouldn’t be fine. It was the shock telling him he would.

”I could, but… I wouldn’t have any magicka left if I did.”

”It’s better than not having any blood left.”

”But -”

”Heal that!”

”Fine, fine, just, okay...” Natsu mumbled as he reluctantly followed Lucy’s order. A light appeared on his left, bloody palm. It shone brightly in the dark and danced on his wound, the bleeding stopping as the edges of skin moved closer to each other. Lucy couldn’t help but feel amazed by what magic would do. If Nords didn’t despise magic so much, restoration mages could heal the sick and wounded far better than any other healers. The light faded as his magicka ran out, his arm not fully healed, but at least it no longer bled.

”Will you be okay now?” Lucy asked with a meek voice. The dragon soared somewhere in the skies, and Lucy wasn’t sure if it was gone or not. She had a feeling it wasn’t done with them yet.

Natsu moved his arm around and winced in pain. Grimacing, he gazed at the closed wound and lowered his sleeve. His face was still pale and his breathing short – it would take a while for the shock to wear off completely.

”It’s my better hand, but whatever, if it still moves it’s all good”, Natsu answered and looked up at her. ”But Lucy, your bow is broken.”

She blinked her eyes. ”It is?”

”You didn’t notice?”

Lucy reached for the bow secured in her back. The weapon dangled from the leather straps, the string keeping the cracked pieces together. How had she not noticed it yet? Lucy took it off, the quiver too, only to find out the arrows had faced the same fate. She tossed them to the ground as the dragon flew above them again, her heart growing cold as she realised there was no way they could see another day.

”Well, fuck it all, then”, Lucy muttered silently. Her fingers curled into fists as she stared at her broken bow.

”What?”

”I said fuck it all.”

Without reacting to her swearing, Natsu cranked himself on his feet as the dragon stopped to hover above the inn. He reached for his belt and pulled the bent, dull orcish dagger from its sheath. The dragon landed on the wheat field, screeching the mockery for the human race. It stepped closer to the warrior hiding in the crops, snarling at its next victim.

”You go grab Erza and run. You run and don’t stop until you reach Windhelm, got it?” Natsu said, glancing at Lucy.

”What are you talking about?”

”When you’re in the College tell them that Natsu of Dragonbridge sends his regards.”

”Wait, what -”

Before she could grab his sleeve he was off running to the dragon. The beast faced towards Erza and didn’t see how the mage appeared from behind. Natsu put the dagger’s handle between his teeth as he jumped and grabbed on the spikes growing on the dragon’s lower back. Its tail swung vigorously as it realised what the mage was doing, but neither its tail nor its wings could hit him as he mounted the dragon. Natsu ran along its spine until it reached its neck. He seized the dragon from the horn and shoved the dagger into its flesh with all of his strength, the beast roaring in pain.

Natsu looked so incredibly small in the back of a dragon.

”Why are you still standing there!? Run while I keep this thing busy!” the mage shouted as he struck the dagger through the dragon’s shoulder, the blade piercing through the weaker skin. It flapped its wings, continuously trying to throw the mage off his balance, but Natsu’s grip on its horn persisted. Lucy shook her head with her limbs frozen. All she could do was watch, knowing that such insane bravery would be his undoing this time.

”What are you waiting for? A miracle? There won’t be any! Get off already, goddamnit!”

”I just can’t leave you here to die!” Lucy cried.

”And I won’t watch anyone else dying in front of my fucking eyes!”

Tears fell on her cheeks as she followed his desperate attempt. The dragon’s vital parts were protected in scales harder than the orcish steel, and so deep that a small dagger would not reach them. Natsu stabbed its neck and brownish blood burst from the wound as he pulled the dagger back. ’I’ll see you using that spell, I promise’, he had said, but everything he did would lead into breaking that promise.

She wouldn’t let him die in front of her eyes either.

It’s just a bow stored in Oblivion...

Lucy closed the battle out as she concentrated deep. She hadn’t even tried to summon that weapon before, but she imagined its might, heard its call as it stood in the shelf of another realm, waiting for her to pick it up. Purple light began to form around her palms, the magicka in her already running dry. But if she couldn’t afford to cast it with today’s magic, she’d just steal some from tomorrow’s.

’If you’ll die today, I’ll let you see me casting that spell now.’

And so she forced the Bound Bow to cross the liminal bridge to be seated in her arms, ready to be drawn. If the manmade weapons wouldn’t hurt a dragon, maybe those made by the Daedra would.

Lucy’s head spun as the purple light took the shape of a bow, as light as a feather. It had recurved shape and a demonic design with spikes protruding from various parts of its body. A quiver full of arrows accompanied it. Even though she was on the edge of passing out from exhaustion, she notched an arrow, kept her stance and drew – it was a hundred times lighter to draw than a regular bow. She released the arrow, sharper and stronger than any other kind. It flew through the air and struck straight through the dragon’s wing. The beast jerked and turned towards her, still trying to shake the mage off its back.

As quickly as she could, she drew another arrow and released. It found the dragon’s chest and sunk deep into its flesh, flames pouring from the hole. And suddenly the beasts great dark eyes lit with fear. Natsu kept stabbing the dragon with the blade which had bent in half, too busy to notice her.

With her final strength, Lucy drew the last arrow. She let go, feeling as the world around her came to a slow. The arrow hit the dragon’s head and tore its way through its skull. Its head swung far back and a dying, fearful scream escaped its throat as it life faded away. The beast collapsed to the ground and spread its wings for one last attempt to soar through the skies as the mightiest creature in all of existence, only to be brought down by a mere, pathetic human.

Natsu jumped down from the dragon’s back and stared at Lucy and her magical bow, his expression in full awe. He threw his useless dagger at his feet, his limbs falling lifelessly to his sides. The bow disappeared from her hands. Feeling too weary and worn, she couldn’t fully understand what had just happened. Was the dragon really dead? How could she have killed a dragon?

Lucy stepped back as the dragon’s scales set ablaze. Its skin and flesh began to dissolve towards the darkened sky, but something else was happening, too. A shining mist fumed from its remains and danced in the air until all out of sudden, Lucy’s body absorbed the mist. It surrounded her into a mystic embrace and seeped through her skin, burning as it entered her bloodstream.

”Lucy?” she heard Natsu’s voice. ”What’s happening to you!?”

She’d answer if she knew.

Her heart drummed in a rapid rhythm as visions from the ancient times flashed before her eyes. As if she could see the world as only a dragon could – then she realised the mist had been the dragon’s soul which merged into her own, its life and knowledge now becoming a part of hers. Lucy fell on her knees as the air got stuck in her throat. Natsu and Erza ran to her, but Lucy couldn’t say a single word to them. She saw them speaking, but didn’t hear their words.

And then the mountains rumbled as the Greybeards called for the Last Dragonborn, appeared on the world in the time of great need, by the command of the gods.

”DO – VAH – KIIN!”

First of all, sorry it took so long. It was a lot harder to write than I first thought. As English is not my mother tongue, writing battle scenes is hard, but I hope it came out good enough.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the biggest reveal so far! How do you feel about Lucy being the Last Dragonborn? Did you guess it or think it would be Natsu? And what did you think of seeing Natsu's point of view from the events of Helgen? Anyway, this is where the story really starts!

I'm beyond thankful for all the feedback I've gotten <3 Thank you all!!!

Chapter Text

When the dragon soared over them again, darkness swept over Erza’s world.

Everything in her life eclipsed as all would fade into the black womb of death. The end had come so fast, too fast for her to grasp. She just wanted Jellal could be there and hold her as they’d die. She lost the touch of herself, her mind grumbled into nothingness as utter, complete fear took over her.

But then a sudden light pierced through the dark.

She stood in the wheat field, unable to believe how she could even stand. Her legs felt numb as if she didn’t have them at all anymore. The dragon landed in front of her, and she felt the earth quaking underneath her, even smelled the blood and smoke in the beast’s breath. It locked eyes with her, but she couldn’t see. She couldn’t see anything at all. Her mind threw her back into Rorikstead’s crops she had harvested with him, for a Nords last thoughts should be of home.

Jellal’s face faded as the dragon turned away and flapped its wings like a trapped bird. Erza’s vision sharpened again, a small pink spot appearing in the middle of the mist. The dragon roared as something struck something into its neck – and Erza understood it was Natsu with his dagger, mounted in the dragon’s back.

Erza blinked in awe. Blood sprayed from the dragon’s wounded shoulder, crimson droplets landing on Natsu’s face. He shouted something about running away, but why was he still there? Why didn’t he run?

Suddenly Erza realised running wasn’t his intention at all.

A bright blue wisp flew through the air and hit the dragon’s wing. The beast jerked from its strength. Erza turned her gaze to the direction where it had come from and flinched. Lucy stood there with a gleaming bow in her hands, drew another arrow and loosened. The arrow hit the dragon’s chest and flames burst from the wound, a hollow screech escaping its lungs.

Erza could not believe her eyes. What were these suicidal mages doing, setting up a fight against a dragon? Why were they even fighting in the first place?

Why wasn’t she fighting with them?

Erza tried to reach for her sword, but her arms didn’t move. Her fingers were frozen, those which had grabbed the hilt a thousand times in the past without a single hint of fear. She, the bravest warrior amongst the Companions, now petrified in terror.

A deep shame washed over her – she had left them to their fate. She hadn’t even tried to fight by their side, and even death wouldn't wash away that stain. How could she ever step into Sovngarde now? The doors of the Hall of Valor would never open to cravens.

And then Lucy’s arrow pierced through the dragon’s skull. The arrogant, magnificent creature screamed cowardly as it collapsed to the ground. Air stuck in Erza’s throat as she watched how Natsu jumped from the dragon’s back, running to the side as scales begun to evaporate into the sky. Had the mages really defeated the dragon? The beast’s lifeforce escaped, its soul taking a form of white mist.

But the soul didn’t dissolve into the wind. It changed direction and flowed straight into Lucy. Erza’s eyes widened as the girl fell on her knees, enveloped in the dragon’s soul as it seeped into her body. Natsu ran to her and upon her instinct, Erza followed him, the fear in her legs melting away.

”Are you alright?” the mage shouted to Lucy. ”What was that?”

Lucy didn’t answer. Natsu grabbed her shoulders and shook her, but it did not help. Crimson marks stained Natsu’s white scarf and his pale fingers, making Erza notice the cut adorning his arm. Had he really fought the dragon wounded like that?

Lucy gasped for breath, beyond shocked by what was happening to her. But Erza knew in her bones what it was. Even though the dragons were invincible creatures, there was one they feared. In their tongue, it meant;

”DO – VAH – KIIN!”

Dragonborn.

The monks of the Throat of the World sensed what happened, and so the whole world quaked as they announced the Dragonborn’s newfound existence. As if the mightiest rumbling of thunder, their whisper carried all over Tamriel. Erza could not believe she was right there, witnessing the miracle who would save them all. Natsu, startled from the noise, turned his head to the skies in awe – he knew not of the lore of the ancient Nords, unlike Erza. She had heard stories of the End Times since she had been a child, those legends and prophecies forever imprinted into her mind.

Upon the return of the dragons, the Last Dragonborn would appear as well.

”What… what’s going on? I don’t… I don’t understand…” Lucy mumbled against her palms, her voice weaker than a whisper. ”What did I do? What... What’s all of this?”

”You killed the dragon!” Natsu exclaimed with sparkling, wide eyes. ”And that was so fucking cool!”

Erza stared at the two, still unable to say a single word through her astonishment. She had never been silenced by hope, but in that moment she understood it was the greatest power of all. Hope, the dawn which broke after the darkest hour of the night.

”I can’t believe it”, the warrior said then, both Natsu’s and Lucy’s gazes turning towards her. ”You’re Dragonborn, Lucy.”

The girl blinked, shaking her head. ”What?”

”In the very oldest tales, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power, and that’s what you did, isn’t it? Absorbed a dragon’s power?”

Lucy’s face lost all colour as disbelief flooded over her. ”I don’t know what happened to me! And what was that… noise?”

”The Greybeards”, Erza answered. ”They summoned you to the High Hrothgar, like the old Tiber Septim himself.”

Erza reached out to catch her when Lucy’s eyes slipped closed and she collapsed to the ground. She held her like she was the most precious and fragile thing in the whole world. Natsu stood by their side, losing the sparkles in his gaze as he understood what had truly happened. He turned to look at the dragon’s skeleton, its life now withered away. They had really killed it. Just a moment ago it had wreaked havoc, but now it was gone, taken down by mere humans.

Calmness fell upon the battleground, like a morning mist shrouding the wheat fields. The fires died down, but the storm clouds parted, letting moonlight enlighten the world.

Erza followed the mage with her eyes as he left. Natsu picked up the orcish blade he had tossed away. It was unrecognisably misshaped, and Erza doubted even Eorlund Gray-Mane couldn’t fix the weapon now. Natsu held it in his bloody hands for a while, then he walked to investigate the dragon’s remains. He shivered from head to toes, and his skin was as pale as clam meat. Erza wanted to command him to rest, but felt like she had no right.

”What are you doing?” Erza asked. The dragon’s jaws were left open, so wide the mage could stand straight in its bony mouth.

”Taking a memento”, the mage answered. He used the twisted blade to remove one of the dragon’s smallest teeth. He struck the dagger to the root of the bone to loosen it, but it held on tighter than he had excepted. Cursing, he used every bit of force had left to extract the tooth, and finally it came out. It was only the size of his finger, while the fangs as large as his whole arm. Why’d he done that? To have it as a keepsake or fetch a good price?

The trail of her thoughts became interrupted by the approaching sound of galloping horses.

Natsu shoved the dragon’s tooth into his pocket when a group of Windhelm guards and Stormcloak soldiers arrived behind the inn. There were two dozen men, half of them on horseback, all clad in blue cuirasses. A boy at Natsu’s age followed them and broke into tears as he saw the destruction the dragon had left behind. He ran to one of the charred corpses and smashed his fists to the ground. Erza forced her heart to harden – she wouldn’t show any weakness in front of Jarl’s men.

Erza lowered her eyes to Lucy, and suddenly she felt angry; angry for the soldiers who had taken so long to come. They were too late, forcing an innocent girl to risk her life to protect Kynesgrove on her own. Everyone knew a dragon’s grave was there, and the Jarl should’ve sent troops there before all of this happened.

One of the soldiers, probably their captain, rode his white horse closer to them and stopped. ”You there!” the man shouted and took off his helmet, revealing his black hair. ”What happened? Is the dragon really dead? Did one of you kill it? Was it you, Companion?”

Erza shook her head as deep shame struck through her heart, again. She couldn’t blame the soldiers. She hadn’t done anything either.

”It wasn’t me, it was her”, the warrior answered and looked at Lucy.

”Can’t be. She’s just a little girl, how could she do it?”

”She did”, Natsu told sharply. ”And she’s the Dragonborn.”

Another soldier rode to the commander’s side, whispering something to him. The commander nodded. ”Skulvar, you check this place with half of our men. Count the dead and gather the survivors, and then report back to Ulfric”, he said before turning towards Erza. ”We’ll take you to the Jarl right now. He’s got to decide if that’s true or not”

The mage took a step back. ”To the Jarl?”

”Jorleif! Vlad! Lokir! Seize them!”

Erza watched in shock as the guards grabbed the mage and tied his wrists together. He did not resist, but the look on his face told he did not approve it either. It would be futile to fight, for they were no match for the Jarl’s men in their current condition. Another man came to bind Erza’s hands, even Lucy’s, even though she was unconscious. They confiscated Erza’s sword and the mage’s dagger with no explanations, then they tossed Lucy on horse’s back, leaving her head hanging down.

’Is this how the Stormcloaks treat the hero of Skyrim?’  Erza wondered as they set forth.

Every step felt like walking on shards of glass as he followed the guards to Windhelm. His head pounded in a frantic rhythm, the exhaustion and the bloodloss taking their toll on him. The dark road seemed to go on forever, and he envied Lucy who got to ride on horseback. Except that she just laid there almost lifelessly, quiet sobs every now and then showing she still lived.

When city lights began to flutter in the distance, an enormous wave of relief flooded over him. Whatever the Jarl would decide, it would surely be better than this. Having his hands tied reminded him of being the Legion’s captive. At least this time his hands were bound in front of him, which he didn’t really understand. The Imperials back then had used special enchanted rope which prevented him from using any magic, but the Stormcloaks seemed to lack that kind of warfare. He could burn the binds into ashes anytime he wanted… except that he was completely out of magicka.

They passed the stables and stepped on the bridge which crossed the White River. Soldiers patrolled on the walls, and Natsu felt their gazes on his back as they walked to the gates. He had been in Windhelm many times before, but he had never felt as unwelcomed as now. The soldiers probably thought of them as Imperial spies and the dragon attack as a Thalmor trap or something. Igneel had some Dark Elf friends in the Grey Quarters, so maybe the guards remembered him from causing troubles there? Whatever it was, coldness spread in Natsu’s chest as the guards opened the city gates.

Lucy lifted her head a bit, but then she fell down again. Erza walked somewhere behind the horses, her hands tied all the same. Citizens of Windhelm were sleeping in their homes, but the streets weren’t empty. The homeless had gathered around the brazier in front of the Candlehearth Hall, unfriendlily staring at Natsu. They weren’t welcomed in the Inn for they had no coin to pay their stay with. If Natsu remembered right, he had seen some of their faces before right there, in front of the same fire, many years ago. Some lives never moved forward.

”Move along, mage”, the dark-haired soldier said and poked Natsu’s back with the tip of his sword. ”The Jarl is waiting.”

”At least not the headsman...”

The soldier stared at him, a deep frown forming on his forehead. ”What did you say?”

”Nothing.”

”Just because you might have killed a dragon it doesn’t mean we’ll treat you like a hero. Until there’s actual proof about it, we won’t believe it.”

”The dragon was dead”, Natsu grunted. ”What else do you need?”

”It’s up to the Jarl to decide, not to us. He’ll decide if you can be trusted. I don’t know about that Dragonborn business, but something surely made the Greybeards go wild. But Ulfric made one mistake before, and he won’t do that again.”

Natsu understood why Ulfric wanted to be cautious. He had been captured by the Legion in his own land, and it wasn’t like the Imperials wouldn’t try to kill him again. As their first attempt failed, who’d know what they’d try next? Faking a dragon attack to send assassins to murder him? When it was put that way, it almost made sense.

”Do we look like the Thalmor to you? Or Legionnaires, huh? We’re just mages from the College of Winterhold, that’s all.”

”You think that’ll make the Jarl trust you? Think again, idiot.”

Natsu wanted to say about Erza being a Companion but kept his mouth shut. The city street went straight to the other end of the town, the route seeming so much shorter at night. Guards lifted the portcullis, opening the entrance to the courtyard of the Palace of the Kings. It was as far as the horses could go. One of the soldiers picked Lucy from horseback and roughly tossed her to his shoulder. Natsu bit his cheek as he held back the urge to punch that soldier. Lucy didn’t show signs of waking up soon, but he hoped the soldiers would be more careful with her.

She was their only hope, after all, even if they couldn’t prove it yet.

The doors of the palace were large enough for a giant to pass through. It was the oldest building of Windhelm, maybe all of Skyrim, built by old Ysgamor himself. Soldiers pushed the doors open and urged them to move forward, and the warmth surging into Natsu’s aching bones almost made him feel welcomed as he stepped into the great hall.

The hall ran the whole length of the palace. Blue Stormcloack banners hang on the walls and a large table stood in the middle, the leftovers from dinner still uncleaned. Natsu’s gaze moved to the far end of the hall, to Jarl Ulfric sitting on his stone-carved throne. How had he survived Helgen, Natsu didn’t know, and it didn’t even matter now. Another poke of a sword forced him to move forward.

When they had crossed the hall, the soldier carrying Lucy dropped her to the ground. Natsu flinched, but when Lucy turned around and fluttered her eyes, he was relieved to know she was okay. Relatively, at least. Ulfric Stormcloack stared at them in silence for a good while until he clapped his hands, dismissing the extras out of the room. Only three of the most high-ranked soldiers were allowed to stay.

”So, who are you, and where are you from?” Ulfric said when the soldiers had left. His long, light-brown hair was combed to the back, and the dust on his face had been washed away. He looked completely different compared to how he had been in Helgen, his pride now restored.

All three of them looked at each other in means of deciding who would speak. Natsu took up the role.

”Natsu of Dragonbridge”, he started. ”From the College of Winterhold.”

”Erza of Rorikstead”, the warrior followed. ”I fight for the Companions.”

Lucy was the last to speak, her voice as quiet as a whisper. ”I’m… Lucy… H-Heartfilia. I was… from Helgen.”

Ulfric’s face stayed still as calm water, as none of the names said anything to him.

”And what happened in Kynesgrove?”

”We were going to investigate the dragon burial mound there, but then a dragon appeared”, Natsu said. ”The same which destroyed Helgen. It raised another dragon from the dead and left.”

”And then you killed the dragon which was raised?”

”Yes. Lucy killed it.”

”Her? That little girl?” Ulfric scoffed. ”She can’t even stand up.”

Natsu grinned, the anger in him beginning to boil over. ”Maybe that’s because she used up more magicka than she even has, you buffed-up ignorant -”

”Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!” the commander shouted, and Natsu felt the sword against his back again. Damn, he would punch that bastard if he’d poke another hole through his robes.

Gladly, the Jarl wasn’t affected by the mage’s outburst. ”Let’s keep this brief and clean. I need to know if you can be trusted, that’s all. So, girl, you really killed the dragon and stole its soul?” Ulfric said to Lucy.

Lucy lifted her chin from the floor so she’d look the Jarl into the eyes. ”Yes, that’s… That’s what happened.”

”There is only one way to prove that. Try to Shout. Only the Dragonborn can Shout without years of training.”

Natsu sensed how Lucy tensed in anxiety. Pressuring gazes were all on her, crushing her with anticipation. It had been said that Ulfric had Shouted King Torygg to death, thus betraying the Greybeards who had thought him the Way of the Voice, or the Thu’um, or the language of the dragons, Natsu was too confused to even think about it.

”I… I don’t know how!”

The Jarl only raised his brows and sighed. ”Then I’m afraid you aren’t worth my time.”

Guards behind them got restless. Would they be sent to the dungeons next? Natsu wouldn’t allow that to happen. None of them deserved to go to jail for what they’d done. They saved a fucking village. He glanced at Lucy, gaining her eye-contact. ”Hey, Lucy, remember anything that read on that wall? Or what the dragon said? Try that”, he whispered, unsure if it would work, but she had to try.

Lucy nodded and withdrew to her memories. Ulfric watched idly as she concentrated, not even trying to hide his mocking disbelief.

And then Lucy uttered a single word, the magic of the dragons echoing in her voice.

”Fus.”

The power of her whisper almost threw Natsu off his feet. He barely managed to keep his balance as the force hit his body, a force similar to a dragon’s. It reached the Jarl, staggering the doubt and mockery out of him. Even if it had been quiet, her word had the power of a dragon, pushing aside anything on its path.

Natsu’s eyes widened in pure excitement, but Lucy raised her hands to cover her mouth. Everyone in the hall stared right at her, as if the situation wasn’t hard enough for her already.

”By Ysmir, it’s true”, Ulfric exclaimed in utter surprise. ”You are Dragonborn.”

Lucy fell on her hands and knees, curling into a fetal position. As the guard no longer held him back, Natsu hopped closer and crouched by her side. Lucy’s eyes closed again as she passed out. Her body and mind had reached their utmost limits.

”See?” Erza asked. ”We’re not your enemies.”

Ulfric furrowed his brow as he studied her with his eyes. He could surely trust a Companion, but could he trust a mage? ”You definitely aren’t”, the Jarl said and turned towards Natsu. ”But are you my allies either?”

”It depends”, Natsu answered. He stood up and extended his arms. ”But there’s no negotiating while our hands are tied. Free us, and then we can talk.”

Jarl nodded, and the commander cut the ropes around their wrists. He started with Natsu’s, then the warrior’s, and lastly, he turned Lucy over to release hers. Lucy’s arms fell to her sides, powerless and limp. Concern built up in Natsu’s guts. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about her state.

”You, mage, you were the Legion’s captive”, the Jarl started to catch Natsu’s attention. ”If I pardon your crimes by my right as a Jarl and the true High King of Skyrim, will you be of my service?”

Natsu silenced. Was this the moment he had waited for? To take up arms and fight for the honour of his fallen brother? Suddenly, he felt nothing but reluctant resistance. ”Of your service as a soldier?”

The Jarl’s response was stern. ”A soldier you’ll never be. It would be waste to put you in the battlefront. What I want is for you to escort the Dragonborn to the High Hrothgar. It’s a dangerous pilgrimage she can’t do on her own. Escort her to the Greybeards, then you’ll be a free man to do whatever you want. That’s what I ask from you.”

As the words sunk in, Natsu realised he had been hoping for something like that. When he had made up his mind about becoming a soldier, he couldn’t have even imagined Lucy would be the Dragonborn. She had been just a girl who wanted to be a mage, that was all. He’d take her to the College and then move on, no strings attached, but everything changed when she killed a dragon.

That’s why he’d seen her as a swan amongst the chicken.

She was a dragon amongst the mortals.

”Okay”, Natsu answered straight up. ”I’ll do it.”

Ulfric moved on and looked at Erza. ”And you, Companion, what would you want as a reward?”

”Nothing”, she said, keeping her eyes locked with the Jarl’s. ”I was a coward and didn’t do anything in the battle against that dragon. These mages are the only ones to thank, so all I ask is for you to treat them well. They’re heroes today, and they need all the rest they can get.”

There was a certain kind of bravery in admitting one’s weakness, and Natsu admired her for that. He heard quiet mumbling among the Jarl’s men. None of them would have thought of mages as heroes. No-one ever did anyway, until now.

”All of you can stay in the Palace of the Kings tonight”, Ulfric told, silencing the muttering. ”There are vacant beds in the sleeping quarters upstairs, with food and drink as much as you need. I’ll think of a suitable reward for the Dragonborn and announce it tomorrow. Until then, suit yourselves.”

”What about our stuff?” Natsu asked. ”They’re still in the Braidwood Inn.”

”Your belongings will be collected from Kynesgrove and returned to you tomorrow.”

”We have their weapons”, the Commander said, and the Jarl agreed with a nod. The man took Erza’s sword from his bag and gave it to her. Then he pulled up Natsu’s dagger, and laughter roared in the great hall as he tossed it back to the mage.

”You fought the dragon with that?” Jarl Ulfric laughed.

Natsu grinned. ”Well, I used to have a glass dagger, but the Imperials took it.”

”We retrieved some of the things the Legion stole from us when they captured us. I’ll have my men looking for a glass dagger, in case we picked up yours.”

Natsu thanked with a nod as he secured the bent dagger on his belt. He’d like to have it as a keepsake. Once he’d grown grey and old, he’d want to hold it again and relive the moment he struck it into a dragon’s neck.

”Erik, will you show our heroes to their room?” Ulfric asked from the commander. He agreed and commenced to pick Lucy up, but Natsu stepped in his way. He wouldn’t let anyone else handle her poorly. The promise he had given to her had a whole new meaning now.

'I'm going to keep you safe', Natsu thought as he picked Lucy up. 'I'm going to keep you safe until I leave this world.'

And then Natsu knew Igneel would’ve wanted that. Maybe the damn elf had known it all along, seen it in a dream or something – and it made Natsu feel so small. Igneel had known Natsu’s path wouldn’t end in Helgen. His death had changed the course of fate, and instead of avenging him, Natsu decided to make sure Igneel’s sacrifice would be worthy.

’I’ve got this, brother.’ 

Lucy didn’t understand what was happening. It felt like she was walking up the stairs, except that her legs didn’t move. Her head leaned against something soft which smelled of smoke and blood. She tried to open her eyes, but all she could see was black. People spoke in the background, and slowly the words came unblurred as her consciousness started to return.

”Hey, Erza”, she heard the mage say. His voice sounded louder than the others, but it still had a strange echo. ”Lucy’s in bad shape. Could you go ask the court wizard for some potions for magicka regeneration?”

”Sure. Do you need anything? That wound looks painful.”

”It’s all good. I’ll just wash and bind it and it will be fine. But Lucy got herself a pretty good magicka deficiency. Its usually not this bad, but she just… Damn, I think she used a week’s worth of magicka at one shot.”

Lucy couldn’t say anything. Was that the reason she felt so horrible? She had only had hangover once in her life after drinking with Loke, but it didn’t even come close to how she felt now. As if her whole life had drained from her body, leaving an empty vessel behind. Strange, considering she had just absorbed a living dragon’s soul. Maybe her soul was rejecting it? She was too small to hold a soul so colossal.

”I’ve never even heard of that kind of an illness.”

”It’s a mage’s thing, really. It happens to every novice at some point. When one uses more magicka than the soul can regenerate, the person feels more weary and tired. If they keep going, they’ll get more symptoms, like passing out. But Lucy will be okay with rest and some potions, I think. She probably won’t be able to use magic in a while though...”

Lucy tried to move her hands. Slowly, they inched closer to each other despite the immense pain flaring up in her every cell. Her fingers clutched into the same softness her cheek leaned at. Footsteps faded into the distance and a door creaked as it was opened. The coldness on her skin disappeared as she came into someplace warm and cosy. Flames of a hearth painted to the blackness, and as her vision gradually regained, she saw Natsu’s white scarf touching her face. He had given her a piggyback ride upstairs, and Lucy was too exhausted to mind. She even preferred that over being carried by a soldier.

Natsu noticed she was awake and laid her down to sit on the edge of a bed. Lucy studied the room; it was a small chamber with four beds and two closets. Orange lights and black shadows danced on the walls, and the crackling sound of burning wood filled the silence. Erza weren’t there, and Lucy assumed she was off to fetch the potions.

”Lucy?” the mage called as she kept staring at the wall behind him. ”You know what’s funny? You thought the Last Dragonborn would be me.”

Natsu sat next to her and Lucy bit her bottom lip. There was nothing funny about it at all.

”It… It should have rather been you”, she whispered. Each word left her more strained. ”Gods… This world is doomed. I… I can’t do anything, I’m not strong enough, I’m not -”

”Lucy.”

”What?”

”You conjured a fucking bow you shouldn’t have been able to cast in years. I’ve never seen anyone learn magic as fast as you. Even my brother wasn’t as talented.”

Lucy wanted to shake her head but didn’t. Her head felt as heavy as a barrel full of water. As her arms tired to support her position, she lay down on her side and pressed her face into a feather-filled pillow. She didn’t understand why they were allowed to stay in a Jarl’s place. Why weren’t they thrown outside like the commoners they were? This wasn’t what they had planned. They were supposed to spend the night in an inn. If her legs would carry, she’d walk there and restore the illusion of being just an ordinary girl.

She didn’t want any of this.

”And I can’t… I can’t even stand after casting that spell”, Lucy muttered into the pillow and was surprised when Natsu answered. Her voice had been so quiet it wasn’t supposed to be heard.

”So? It would’ve cost you your life if you were a normal person.”

”But... What if I can’t use magic ever again?”

Cold chills ran across her body as she realised she hoped for that. She hoped she had used up all the magic she would ever have. The legacy of her mothers behind her would’ve been wasted, but maybe it was for the best. Her parents had known better. She should’ve listened to them when they had tried to crush her dreams. They were protecting her from all of this, after all.

”Don’t be silly. Of course you can”, Natsu answered. ”Erza’s going to get you some potions to help you feel better.”

Lucy turned around, her legs brushing against the mage who sat in the other end of the bed. She stared into the ceiling as her chin began to tremble. He didn’t lie. Lucy shielded her eyes with her elbow as tears welled up. She felt Natsu’s gaze on her, and hated herself for crying again, for she knew he hated it when she cried.

”I’m just so… scared”, she whispered, holding back the tears.

”Scared of what?”

Lucy’s voice cracked as she answered. ”Of this fate.”

Natsu fell quiet. Lucy listened to the fire dancing in the hearth. Its melody carried her back to Helgen again, to her home burning to the ground. She had never understood how fragile life was. Like a piece of paper thrown into the flames, all could turn into ashes in a blink of an eye. All a dragon had to do was exhale and a city would be reduced to dust.

She flinched as a horrifying insight cleared in her mind. ”I just realised… The black dragon attacked Helgen because it sensed my power there”, Lucy spoke her thoughts to make them real. ”It destroyed the whole town so the only one who could kill them would be eliminated. Everyone died because I was there. Mother and father, my friends, Loke and Haming and their dad, the chickens and the dogs and everyone -”

”I didn’t die because you were there.”

His interruption put her thoughts on hold. There was nothing she could do about it now. She couldn’t turn back the time. She had survived, Natsu had survived, that was all there was left. The two of them standing among the ashes of their lives. She moved her arm away from her face, turned towards the hearth and let the tears fall.

”I… I wanna go home. I just want everything to be as it was, I don’t want this stupid adventure anymore, I don’t want to be -”

”You’re the only one who can save us now, Lucy”, Natsu said quietly. ”You’re the only one who can stop the dragons.”

She closed her eyes, as if it would make that truth go away. In the Nord tradition, the Dragonborn represented everything a Nord should strive to be. A great and powerful dragonslayer, a fearless warrior who’d be the end of all Skyrim’s foes. Why in the world was that gift given to her?

”But how do I do that?” she asked.

The dragon she had killed – she still struggled to understand she had actually killed it – hadn’t been in full strength. Its lifeforce was maybe a quarter of what it could be. How could she ever kill more of them? And about that black dragon… Lucy didn’t even want to imagine it.

”Well… I don’t know, but I’m sure the Greybeards will know”, Natsu answered, making Lucy wince. She was done hearing about the monks. ”They summoned you there after all. They’ll guide you forward.”

”I don’t want to go there.”

”Why?”

”Because Ulfric commanded you to escort me to High Hrothgar and then you’d be free to go, to live your life as a soldier, or whatever you’d want.”

Suddenly, Lucy regretted saying that. It was the same as saying, ’I can’t do this on my own’. Would a Dragonborn rely on anyone else’s help? It made her feel more like a coward.

”Is that why you’re so upset?” Natsu asked.

Her silence answered in her stead – even though she couldn’t admit it, he was right.

”I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to.”

Lucy’s eyes flitted from the hearth to the mage. Had he truly said that? Did he mean it? Lucy blinked as she stared at him, tears running down her cheeks.

”But you’ve got your friends death to avenge -”

”You know what? I was supposed to be the first of us to go to the block”, the mage started. ”I was supposed to die first. All was going good until Igneel said something stupid and got dragged to the block in front of my fucking eyes. Then he was dead, and I was alive. I don’t want his death to be in vain. He died for a reason. And what would be a better reason than letting me help the Last Dragonborn to fulfil her destiny?”

”But -”

”We’ll be a team, right?”

Lucy blinked. ”A team?”

”Yeah. A dragon-slaying team. Just how cool is that?”

When Lucy smiled through her tears and nodded, she realised she had almost prayed for that. Had it been the Jarl’s command or a decision of his own, Lucy didn’t know. Natsu reached out his blood-stained hand. Whatever made him change his mind, it made her destiny as Dragonborn lighter to carry.

”Okay”, she answered and grasped the mage’s hand, curling her fingers around his. ”Let’s be a team.”

A/N: Gates of Windhelm and the Great Hall of the Palace of the Kings

Merry Christmas and better New Year to everyone!! Thank you for reading, hope you liked this chapter! 

Chapter Text

Annals of the Dragonguard.

A man traced his thumb over a book’s cover and read the title again and again in the campfire’s dim light. The memory of his ancestors held written in those pages, a truth the world had forgotten long ago, finally in his hand. For a lifetime he had chased the last remnants of his legacy, and this discovery brought him one step closer to finding it. And it had almost cost him his life, only to plunge him deeper into despair. 

The prophecies were coming true, the signs were clear. There was no doubt of it. Not anymore.

He raised his gaze to the night sky. The stars were hidden behind storm clouds as black as the Dragon had been. Even a mere thought of it made shivers run down his spine, and his nerves lit in tearing pain. The final portent of the End of Days, the Dragon from the dawn of time who’d devour the souls of the living and the dead – it had surely been there. As if it had sensed he had found the keys to its defeat, it had been there waiting for him when he returned to Skyrim, ready to tear him into pieces.

It had all happened so quickly. The Dragon ambushed him in the dark, its black scales and horns invisible against the night. Before he even saw it, his body had been ripped apart by talons like sharpened scythes. The Dragon had flown back to the mountains, leaving him to die. But arrogancy was the frailty of the dragonkind – they miscalculated a human’s ability to survive against the most hopeless odds.

He looked down at the book held in his remaining hand. It hadn’t stopped trembling, and probably never would. Was losing the half of himself a worthy sacrifice? The lost blood would be replaced with new, but how to restore a lost hope? All he could do was watch the doom approach, slowly.

He fought against the urge to toss the book into the fire. His ancestors did not fight against the dragons, they protected the ones with the dragon blood. Why did he still hold on to that ancient honour? Only a Dragonborn could stop the Dragon, and there hadn’t been one known in centuries. The age of heroes was gone. He had absolutely no purpose left, so why’d he still keep on the fight?

Maybe the gods had grown tired of the humankind, and left them to their fate, as a plaything for the World-Eater. If the Dragon would win, man would be gone from this world, lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled.

Right before his fingers loosened the grip on the book he held above the flames, the most powerful thunder rumbled all across the world. The mountains shook and the earth quaked, and as he felt it in his bones it wasn’t thunder.

”Dovahkiin.”

He could barely believe his ears. It was the call of the Greybeards, steadfast as winter. Could it be true? Could another Dragonborn have surfaced in this turning of age, during this terrible time? He pulled the book of his ancestors back and pressed it against his chest.

Then there was hope, after all.

The gods hadn’t abandoned them just yet.

After the potions had lulled her to sleep, Lucy dreamt of home.

She stood behind the counter, counting the coins in the cash register, like she did every evening. Lucy raised her eyes from the gold and looked at Mother, the woman putting books into the shelf. Her fair hair was tied in a bun, and her yellow dress brought out the golden brown in her eyes. Everyone said Lucy was an exact copy of her mother, and she understood why. Sometimes it felt like looking in the mirror when she looked at her.

Mother was absorbed into her work, smiling and humming some unknown song. Lucy had heard it many times, but never knew the words. Only the melody. Mother looked so happy, content as if she didn’t need anything else. Did she ever read those books, dream of living another life?

Lucy couldn’t help but wonder how did a caged bird learn to sing.

Lucy envied her for that, lowering her gaze back to the golden coins. While Mother had chosen a merchant’s life when she married Father, Lucy had no choice. She couldn’t choose anything, not even the person she’d marry one day. Father would choose a suitable man for her, probably some merchant’s lastborn son. She’d have sons of her own who’d inherit the store, fixing the fault in its history of being owned by a woman.

She cringed at the thought but swallowed her bitterness. She raised her head again, and her heart sunk to the bottom of her body. The books had fallen to the floor, and Mother was gone.

Startled out of her wits, Lucy left the desk and ran upstairs to check her parent’s sleeping chamber, but Mother wasn’t there. She slammed the door shut, crossed the living hall to the room of her own, but mother wasn’t there either. Her heart raced rapidly in her chest, pain spreading all over her body. Had Mother gone outside? She didn’t remember hearing the front door creaking, or the wind bells chiming.

Lucy ran back downstairs. She opened the front door and stepped over the threshold, but there was nothing to land her foot on. The porch was gone, the city street too. There was only blank, endless whiteness. She swayed forward, reeling down as she fell into the mist. Mother's song echoed in the distance, ever fading, and she knew she'd never learn the words now. Her home disappeared from her sight, and as the gushing air pressured against her body, she realised why Mother never dreamt of an escape.

The coins in the register were the only safe thing in the world, ever unchanging, always the same cold gold.

Lucy woke up to the feeling of her body thumping to the ground. Her tense limbs relaxed as the pain did not come, when her fingers clutched into soft woollen blanket instead of stone. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see the ceiling. The shadows which had danced there when she’d fallen asleep were now missing, driven away by daylight flooding from a window.

Lucy pushed herself up and held her head. Even though her aches had melted away, it still felt heavy to move. With weary movement, she looked around. Her chest tightened when she found the chamber empty.

There was no notion except for two unmade beds, and the wistfulness in her twisted into mild anger. Why’d they never wake her up when she slept for too long? Why did they always have to go on their things without her? Deep down, she knew they wouldn’t be far, but waking up alone made her feel so left behind.

Especially now, after that dream.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her feet to the cold, wooden floor. Her legs would carry now, but she didn’t feel like she could use magic. Could she ever conjure that bow again? Could she speak like a dragon again? Thinking about it made her head spin. She had too many questions on her mind, but maybe the Greybeards would have the answers. Or maybe all of it had been just a mistake, and the monks would laugh her to death.

Lucy wiped her hair from her face and looked down to see her backpack resting aside her bed. Surprised, she picked it up and went through it. Her journal, spellbooks and the herbs were still there. The guards must have returned it while she had slept, and her assumption was proved true when she noticed Natsu’s and Erza’s bags in the corner of the room. The tension in her chest eased – they’d come back for their things, at least. She’d just have to wait.

She picked up her journal and turned the pages until she found the next empty one. There was no entry for yesterday, but that could be forgiven. With shivering fingers, she took the quill, dipped it in the ink and begun to write.

25th of Last Seed, E4 201

Dear Mom,
I don’t know what to write to you. I don’t know anything anymore.

Lucy took in a deep breath as she held back the tears. She wouldn’t let them fall. The letters came out messy and untidy – Mother would scold her for writing so poorly. She forced her fingers to calm down before she continued.

I dreamt of you last night. You were humming the same song as always, the song I know by heart from hearing it so many times. I keep wondering if there are words in your song, but I guess I’ll never know.

I feel so lost now. Please, give me some courage. Show me the words of the song which kept you so happy. Send me a sign and tell me I can find my way.

Because yesterday, I killed a dr-

Lucy dropped the quill and spilt the ink on paper when the door was kicked open.

”Breakfast’s here!” Natsu shouted as he rushed into the room, showing her a basket full of bread and fruit. Lucy held her hand on her chest, trying to calm her startled heart. The mage laid the food next to her, picked an apple and sat down in his bed.

”Calm down, idiot”, Erza said from the door before walking in. ”Remember what Wuunferth said about letting your arm rest?”

”Damn that old fart to Oblivion, I’ve never felt better”, he answered, taking a bite from the fruit. ”Come on, Lucy, eat up.”

Lucy lifted the inkpot, unfortunately unable to save her journal from the black liquid spreading on the pages. She sighed as she put the cork in the bottle and closed the book. Maybe some of her writings would be readable through the mess once it’d dry. She wiped her hands in her black robes before taking a piece of bread.

”How are you feeling, Lucy?” the warrior asked and seated next to Lucy. ”Did the potions help?”

”I’m okay, now… I guess”, she answered. She had drunk five of them last night. The blue, empty bottles were laid on the floor, a frail smell of mountain flowers lingering in the room. ”Where were you?”

”Getting him patched up.” Erza pointed at the mage who raised his legs on the foot of the bed. ”He woke up all feverish and pale as milk –”

”I didn’t –”

”Yes you did”, she silenced him and turned back to Lucy. ”He didn’t clean his wound yesterday, and so it started to infect. I dragged him to see the court wizard, and now he should be fine. Make sure he’ll keep that clean, and doesn’t strain it too much.”

Lucy nodded. The mage looked pale indeed, but considering how much blood he had lost yesterday, he seemed okay. He was dressed in new, dark-blue robes. Lucy inferred he had bought them from the court wizard, for his old ones had ripped and stained in blood. Now only the rusty marks in his white scarf and his bandaged arm showed what had happened to him.

Lucy found it adorable how Erza had started to care about Natsu. At first, it had looked like those two couldn’t stand each other, but now they seemed like siblings. It was easy to imagine Erza as a strict older sister, and the mage as a mischievous little brother. Had he been like that with his real brother, wild and uncontrollable? Or had losing his brother made him like that?

”I’ll try, if he’ll listen”, Lucy said and peeked over her shoulder to smirk at the mage.

Natsu answered by raising his brows, giving her a nonchalant look as he munched the apple. ”It’s nothing, really -”

”Yell at him if he doesn’t”, Erza interrupted sharply, landing her deathstare on the mage. It took Lucy a moment to understand why she’d have to yell at him. If she had shouted a bear into submission, maybe the mage could be tamed with a little bit rougher tongue.

”Okay, okay, I’ll take care of it”, Natsu shrieked and raised his hands in surrender. ”Just don’t yell at me.”

”That’s right. Do not let him get you into trouble”, Erza said and turned to him. ”And you, do not get her into trouble, or I will personally scold you when we meet again.”

Lucy smiled shortly, though it seemed to her Erza was saying goodbyes. And in fact, she was – Lucy had forgotten Erza would go back to Whiterun today. Lucy would’ve liked to invite her to their team, but didn’t dare. There was so much more she’d like to share and experience with Erza. She had already hoped for another day to spend with her, and fate had delivered. When she’d learn to stop hoping for anything?

It was such a pity their group would break apart.

”So, where are we heading next?” Natsu asked, having finished the apple. ”Do you want to answer the summons right ahead or will we stop at Winterhold first?”

Lucy fell silent for a moment. She didn’t know how long it would take to reach the High Hrothgar. The monastery was seated in the slopes of the Throat of the World, and they would have to head back to Ivarstead, where the steps to the top began. They were so close to Winterhold it would be a shame to turn back now, even if they had more important business waiting for them elsewhere.

”I’d like to visit the College first. Maybe the monks would accept that”, Lucy said. ”I know it’s selfish, but we’re so close, maybe a day or two wouldn’t make them mad.”

”Well, if we leave today, we’ll be in Winterhold tomorrow. It’s not a long way.”

”I think you should join the College before going to the monastery”, Erza commented. ”It’s your choice to answer the summons, after all. The Greybeards can wait. They’ll only guide you in the Voice, not in the magic.”

”So it’s decided. Winterhold it is”, Natsu said and rose from the bed, stretching his limbs before grabbing his bag. ”Shall we get going?”

Lucy nodded and ate the last bit of the bread. The ink on her journal had dried enough now, and she put it into her backpack. She got up, her legs still numb, but after a few steps, she felt steady again. She swung the backpack on her shoulder, and sadness crept into her heart as she remembered her hunting bow was gone. Lucy waited while Natsu packed their food, and then the warrior opened the door, leading them to the hallway.

”I wonder what’s the reward the Jarl promised for you”, Natsu said as they walked down the narrow aisle, towards the stairs. ”And if they found my glass dagger, it would be nice. I don’t wanna get my hopes up, but I’ve been missing it. I had it for years.”

Father had once told her how glass weapons weren’t actually made of glass like windows and ornaments, but of malachite and moonstone. Though they appeared glass-like, the green material was strong and fine.

”Glass weapons are quite expensive”, Lucy answered, ignoring the mage’s first question. She didn’t want to think any reward for herself, because she still didn’t feel like she’d deserve any. ”I remember some of them have passed through our store, and they always fetched a high price. Did you buy yours or find it somewhere?”

”I actually got it from one of the older mages from the College. Gildarts was the wizard’s name. He gave it to me before he left for a mission, but it has been years. I haven’t seen him since.”

Lucy's interest peaked every time the mage spoke about his fellow wizards of the College. He didn't do that too often. ”He still isn’t back? Do all of your missions last for years?”

”Not often, but this man always has some epic journeys. He’s quite a nomad, rarely around.”

”I bet he has many epic stories to tell. I'd like to hear some of them.”

”He does”, Natsu said, a strange grin on his face. ”But believe me, his stories are sometimes really nasty. There was a time when he –”

”Please, don’t tell her", Erza's command stopped him. "She doesn’t need to know.”

The mage turned to look at the warrior walking behind them. ”Did I tell you?” 

”Your friend Igneel told me after you had passed out, and it still burns my ears to remember it.”

”Are you sure we’re talking about the same story?” Natsu asked, brows furrowing. 

”I’m sure Lucy doesn’t want to know any of those stories.”

Natsu shrugged, rolling his eyes. ”I can tell you later when she’s gone”, he whispered to Lucy, and she answered with a sneer. She had heard many nasty stories before, mostly from Loke and Haming. Both of the lumberjack's sons had a mouth full of dirt, but sometimes those stories had made her laugh. Harder than she’d like to admit.

”Speaking of when I’m gone”, Erza started, making Lucy flinch. ”I have to report my discoveries to Whiterun’s court wizard, but I won’t tell him about you, Lucy. The Dragonborn’s identity should be classified information. No-one else than us shall know.”

”I agree”, the mage answered, his tone now serious. ”There are a lot of weird cults out there, and who knows what they’re about. Some of them might still worship the dragons, and they could hurt the one who can slay them.”

Lucy raised her shoulders, staring down and keeping her voice low. ”Nobody would believe it’s me anyway.”

”What do people even think the Dragonborn looks like?” Natsu wondered aloud. ”Some big blond Nord guy with a horned helm and an iron sword?”

She glanced at the mage and frowned. ”That’s how you thought they’d be?”

”Actually I had no idea. But Lucy, it’s good you don’t quite look like the one who can kill the dragons. Nobody can suspect it's you. You have a good cover.”

Lucy let the silence fall as they reached the end of the stairs. Erza opened the door which led to the Great Hall, and let them step in before her. Lucy looked at the throne, seeing Jarl Ulfric seated there, with his men standing by his side.

The time had come for their paths to separate.

”I think this is it, brats”, Erza sighed and turned towards them, wistfully smiling. ”Come meet me in Whiterun one day. I’ll let the Companions know that the Jorrvaskr is open to you.”

Lucy answered her smile. ”Thank you. For everything”, she said quietly, trying to hide the sadness in her voice. Then she swung at the armoured woman, wrapping her arms around Erza’s neck and pressing her cheek against the plate of steel. Lucy wanted to cling at her for a moment longer, but Erza gave her two pats on the back before letting her go. 

”Goodbye for now, then”, Erza said and nodded at Natsu. Lucy glanced at him, and though he wouldn’t hug her, he didn’t seem to be at ease with the departure either. Lucy wasn’t sure if it was real or if she imagined it, but the warrior’s eyes watered.

”Goodbye, Scarlet”, the mage said, waving his hand as she turned to leave.

”Don’t call me that.”

”Is Beast better?”

”Yes”, Erza said, wiping her eyes. ”Beast is better.”

Natsu smiled, but it died down when Erza walked to the main entrance of the palace. The guards opened the great doors, and then the armoured woman was gone. Lucy felt her heart sinking as she realised how attached she had grown to Erza in this short time they had known. She had become her friend, and she’d never forget her. Maybe they would meet again, someday.

”Come on, the Jarl’s waiting”, Natsu said. Lucy glanced into his eyes, shades of sadness dwelling in the greens. He had to feel the same. It brought comfort to Lucy – at least she could miss her with him, even though he’d never admit it.

But, there was no place for such things in this world, not now.

Lucy walked across the hall with the mage by her side. Despite wanting to run after Erza, she knew this was more important. Ulfric must have been running out of patience, and making him angry was the last thing Lucy wanted.

Lucy stopped before the Jarl’s throne and made a curtsey, while Natsu didn’t even bow. Was this the beginning of their downward spiral after Erza leaving their company? She’d scold him for not respecting the Jarl, but gladly the man didn’t seem to care. Ignoring the mage’s lack of manners, Ulfric went straight into the business at hand.

”You’ve done a great deed for me and my city, Lucy Heartfilia”, he started, his loud voice filling the entire hall like thunder. ”You have my eternal gratitude. If there’s ever anything you need, don’t hesitate to come to me. And please, accept this gift from my personal armoury.”

One of the soldiers brought her a bow made from black wood, and a quiver full of arrows. Speechless, she received it, feeling its weight in her hands. It’s beauty rivalled with the ethereal bow she had summoned, and suddenly it didn’t even matter if she’d ever be able to cast it again. Her heart filled with pride like never before.

”It’s a supple bow of the ancient Nords, enchanted with the spell of paralysis”, Ulfric explained while she admired the bow. ”May it bring down your foes and aid you in the battle against the evil.”

Lucy raised her eyes from the weapon and looked straight at the Jarl. ”Thank you.”

”And you, a mage from Dragonbridge, we found your dagger. Here, have it back with a little bit of gold. It’s meant for you both.”

The guard gave a gleaming green dagger to Natsu, and tossed a bag of clinking coins to him. The amount seemed ridiculous to Lucy. That was a little? They could live like the noblemen for a month with that money. With widened eyes, Natsu stared at the blade to get sure it was really his. As he showed no signs of refusing, it seemed it was.

”You’re going to answer the Greybeard’s summons?” Ulfric asked while Lucy secured the bow in her back. ”Is there anything else I can do to help you forward on your journey? ”

”I will after I’ve visited the College of Winterhold”, she answered with a faked confidence. ”And this gold is more than enough to –”

”You shouldn’t waste time travelling”, Ulfric interrupted sternly. ”I’ll lend you my fastest horses and arrange the carriage to leave in an hour, so you’ll arrive tonight.”

”What?” Natsu exclaimed and spread his arms in refusal. ”Fuck no –”

Though Lucy remembered what Natsu had said about travelling in a carriage, she agreed with the Jarl. The faster they could travel, the better. She felt still weak, the magic deficiency draining her strength. She couldn't walk to Winterhold. 

”Natsu, I don’t think we have a choice”, Lucy hissed at him to make him shut up. She turned towards the Jarl again and said, ”Thank you. We’ll be at the stables in an hour.”

The Jarl’s nodded. ”Talos guide you, Dragonborn”, he greeted, sending them off.

Natsu stared at Lucy with a dagger in his other hand and a bag of gold in the other, frozen and mute. The dread of their upcoming journey was clear on his pale face, every cell of him in a state of perfect resistance. But he had promised to protect her, and so that promise was put on a test.

”Seriously, I’d rather die than –” Natsu muttered, his voice fading as Lucy walked past him.

”You can walk”, she said. ”But I will not.”

Mumbling silent curses to himself, Natsu followed her across the hall. Lucy knew he’d come with her, but even if he wouldn’t, she’d be fine. She wouldn’t let anything bring her down. With the bow of her ancestors in her back, Lucy felt like a hero.

The light hurt Natsu’s eyes as they walked down the streets of Windhelm, the day dawning cold and bright. He felt worse than he dared to admit, his arm still throbbing and head pounding from the lack of sleep. The pain had kept him awake to the wee hours of the night, and Erza had dragged him out of bed too early. Her strict schedule was one of the things he wouldn’t miss.

A freezing wind blew through the alleys, forcing Natsu to wrap himself into his fur cloak. While he had spent a while in warmer regions of Skyrim, his bones hadn’t forgotten the cold he had grown used to. Winterhold was always cold, possibly the coldest place in the country. The College wasn’t any warmer, the winds of the Sea of Ghost blasting through the creaks in the stone walls. Natsu had at least five fur blankets in his bed and he still shivered every night.

His mind struggled to understand he’d sleep there again tonight. To his surprise, it upset him. He had considered the College his home, but it didn’t feel the same without Igneel. This was the first time he returned from a journey without him. Would the halls be quiet now, all laughter gone? How would the others take the news of his death?

At least Lucy would be there, but how would she settle in? Would she make her home there, as he had? 

”Hey, wanna go check the marketplace?” Natsu asked her. He needed a distraction from the pain, his thoughts, pretty much everything. His mind had fallen out of the wagon a while ago, and he needed time to get back on track. Besides, he wanted to forget he’d have to climb into a cart soon. He understood the urgency of their situation, yes, but it didn’t make him want to die any less.

Lucy didn’t answer, but Natsu noticed her eyes landing on the beggars begging on the sides of the street. They leaned against the stone wall with empty cups in their bare, frost-bitten hands. Some of them were former, wounded soldiers, some of them were skooma addicts, and Natsu knew any amount of gold wouldn’t help them. He wanted to move on, feeling uneasy watching how the men and women shivered in the cold. 

”Lady, would you buy some flowers?” a quiet voice said behind them. ”Please?”

Both of them turned around, their eyes widening at the sight. A young girl stood there with a basket full of flowers, smiling a smile which hit like a dagger in Natsu’s chest. She looked so broken, dressed in ripped rags and an oversized cloak. She couldn’t be much older than ten.

”Who are you?” Lucy asked, concern resonating through her words. ”Where are your parents?”

”They… They’re dead”, the girl answered, keeping her eyes locked in Lucy’s. ”My Mama died when I was little. I… I don’t remember her very well. My father was a Stormcloak soldier. One day he left and… didn’t come back. I’m all alone. I try to sell flowers so I can buy food. It’s not much, but what else can I do?”

Lucy’s lips started to quiver, and she pulled Natsu back from his sleeve. He felt ill in his stomach, and it wasn’t from the journey ahead of them. The fates of beggars rarely interested him, but orphaned children living on the street were personal. He had once been almost like that girl, young and homeless while on his way to the College.

He remembered it too well how scary it was to be all alone in the cold world.

”Natsu, how much did we get from the Jarl?” Lucy whispered to him while they were out of earshot, behind a corner of a stone wall.

”Around a thousand gold, maybe."

”Give her a hundred.”

”Are you sure it’s a good idea?" Natsu asked. "Skooma addicts threaten orphans to beg for them, and the money they get goes straight into the drugs.”

That’s what they had said when Natsu had asked for money. One elderly woman had given him fresh bread, but no coin. Otherwise, he had to earn the gold he needed to survive. He had chopped wood for the most of it. It had been familiar work, but exhausting. Even to this day, he dreaded axes and chopping blocks. For many reasons.

”I don’t want to believe that. She needs to be helped. She’s just a kid.”

Natsu sighed, not wanting to argue with her. She meant well, and they had more gold now than they could spend. He had a hundred gold of his own money in a smaller bag. It would be a lot less suspicious to give it to her in secret instead of separating the coins from the bigger bag. He didn’t want to gain any unwanted attention to them. Tension in Lucy's eyes eased when she saw him approving her intention.

Natsu gestured at the girl, urging her to come to them.

”What’s your name?” he asked when she appeared. 

”It’s… Sofie", the girl answered. Natsu didn't feel like she was lying. Her voice was meek and shivering, and Natsu didn't even want to know what she had been through. The streets were rough for homeless little girls. 

”Well, Sofie, take this", Natsu said, offering her a small bag of gold. "Use it to hire a carriage to Riften. There’s an orphanage there. I know it’s not the nicest place, but it’s far better than being a beggar here. Someone could adopt you from there, get you in a real family if you’re just patient.”

The girl stared at him under her brows, both confusion and fear mixing on her face. Then she shook her head.

”I’ve… I’ve heard about that orphanage”, she whispered. ”My friend, Aventus, he… His mother died a while back, and he was sent to Riften. There's a rumour that he returned. They said that the place was horrible, and the headmistress evil and cruel. Some even say that he's... he's...”

Lucy leaned closer to the girl. ”He’s what?”

”He’s performing the Black Sacrament.”

Shock shot through Natsu's spine, yet he struggled not to show it. How could a little runt be performing the Black Sacrament?  Summoning a Dark Brotherhood to assassinate the orphanage’s keeper? The ritual itself was too grotesque for a child to commit. If it was true, it had to be a bad place. It was dangerous such information was spreading across the city.

”Aventus lives here?” Lucy asked. 

”Yes, in the Stone Quarters, in his family’s old home. Aretino is the name.”

Natsu glanced at Lucy but failed to read her thoughts through her expression. For a moment, she fell into her mind, trying to decide what to do.

 ”Don't worry about it, we will figure it out", she said then. ”You don’t have to go to the orphanage before it gets better out there. But you need food and shelter, or you’re not going to see the flowers of the next summer. So please, accept this gold. Buy yourself food and warm clothes.”

Hesitantly, Sofie looked at the coin purse, as if it was too good to be true. A trap. Maybe someone had trapped her before. She took long, deep glances in Lucy's eyes, then at Natsu's. Finally confirmed of their sincerity, she took the purse. ”Thank you, lady… and mister!”

”And there’s this thing”, Lucy continued, ”I’m friends with Jarl Ulfric. Go to him, and say Lucy Heartfilia asks him to help you out.”

”Really? Can’t be… Just, wow", the girl said, sparkling pure joy. ”Thanks… Thanks for talking to me. The Divines bless your kind hearts!”

The girl bowed to them, and the wind blew off some flowers from her basket. She didn’t bother to pick them up as she left running to the Palace of Kings, nervously shaking from excitement. Natsu hadn’t seen happiness so pure in many years. If the gods did exist, maybe they could grant them a blessing for the good deed of the day. 

Strangely, with Erza gone, different colours started to shine through Lucy. The shy girl Natsu had found in Helgen's ruins was coming out of her shell, taking the space she deserved. 

”What are you going to do now?” Natsu asked when the little girl was gone. "Shall we go to the marketplace now?"

”Going to talk to that boy”, she answered. ”We still have some time left.”

Natsu crossed his arms on his chest, sighing. ”We really shouldn’t mess with the Brotherhood’s territory...”

”Let’s just talk to him and see if there’s anything we can do about it. Orphans have suffered enough when they lost their parents! They don’t have to suffer more.”

Natsu didn’t agree with her, but she had a point. It didn’t sit right with him if the children really were mistreated in the orphanage, so maybe it was better to talk to that boy. Then they could figure out what to do if they’d do anything. But the Black Sacrament thing, that had to be only a rumour. No child could really be doing it. Without saying anything, Natsu set forth into the Stone Quarters, Lucy following by his side. If checking out for the boy made Lucy happy, Natsu would go along. 

They walked in silence through the snowy streets. They passed the Candleheart Hall and the main gates of the city, soon reaching the Aretino residence. Their name was carved into the side of the house. As Natsu had expected, the door was locked. No-one answered when he knocked. "No-one's there. Let's head to the -"

”Let’s see about this one...” Lucy said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure there were no guards in sight. She pulled a lockpick from her pocket and crouched in front of the door. Natsu’s brows raised so high he was sure they hit his hairline.

”Are you seriously going to –”, Natsu whispered, but then the door creaked open. Lucy gave him a wicked grin. ”How did you learn to pick locks?”

Lucy rose up and pat his back, urging him to sneak in before anyone caught them. ”This is the stupidest thing in the world. The boy's probably in Riften anyway, and we're not supposed to be here”, Natsu mumbled as he pulled the door closed after stepping in.

They arrived in a stairway which led to the upper floor of the building. Staying silent, they listened for suspicious noises, and Natsu’s heart begun to race as he heard muffled chanting coming from the upstairs, accompanied by a knocking sound. As if someone repeatedly stabbed the floor.

’Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child onto me...’

”Do you hear that?” Lucy asked, and Natsu answered with a nod.

’… for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.’

A/N: Windhelm streets:

Hi guys! What did you think of this chapter? I introduced a new character in the beginning, who do you think he was? He’s a character from Fairy Tail who’ll replace a few Skyrim characters, lore wise.

I had some struggles while writing this chapter. This was a difficult one because writing transition chapters is quite hard – the previous part of the story comes to an end, while the next one has to be established.

Natsu and Lucy are on their own now with Erza out of the picture, and it will change the dynamics between them. I’ve also been really stressed out in my personal life and I wasn’t in a mood to write until now. I made some changes in this chapter and made things more interesting for me. I'm inspired again! Originally, I planned they’d just go shopping in the marketplace, but my brain didn’t agree with that. I’m not really into filler content, and I want everything to be relevant to the story at hand. There’s going to be one-chapter mini arc before they finally go to the College.

Chapter Text

'Grelod, you old crone. You'll get what you deserve. The Dark Brotherhood will see to that… Die, Grelod, die!'

Natsu's chest tightened as he listened to the muffled, repeated stabbing. Someone was upstairs, but was that the Aretino boy, or someone else? Could it truly be just a kid? Natsu didn't want to figure it out. Instead, he wanted to grab Lucy and leave. 

Whenever the Dark Brotherhood was mentioned, it meant nothing good.

"Lucy", he whispered sharply to catch her attention. "I say we get the fuck outta here. Now."

"But -"

'Please… How long must I do this? I keep praying, Night Mother, why won't you answer me?'

The voice didn't belong to a grown-up man, but to an adolescent boy. The distant chanting turned into sobbing. Lucy's eyes filled with worry as she glanced at Natsu. Whoever it was, he walked on a dark path. His actions would only lead to ruin.

"He's desperate", she whispered, and Natsu's stomach twisted. He heard it too. The utter despair.

'I'm so tired… so very tired…'

Lucy bit her lower lip, brows pinching together as she tried to figure out what to do. "We have to check if he's okay", she decided

Natsu shook his head. It needed no checking to know the boy was far from okay. But was this really something they had to stick their heads into? Especially now when Lucy needed to stay away from unnecessary dangers. If the townspeople were talking about this, why didn't they intervene? 

"This isn't any of our business, so let's just – "

"You can wait down here if you're scared, but I'm going", Lucy scoffed as she stepped into the stairs, the wood creaking under her feet. Natsu rolled his eyes and followed her. 'Nords are stubborn. So. Fucking. Stubborn', he thought, not daring to utter it out loud. 'And they said I have a thick skull.'

Natsu climbed up the stairs after Lucy, the voices becoming louder as they reached the upper floor. Nervous unsettlement boiled in Natsu's chest. He had promised to not lead her into trouble, but his power could only stretch so far. Lucy was determined to help the children of Windhelm, even if it meant risking her safety.

But wasn't that what heroes did? Selflessly helped those who needed it the most? 

Lucy walked into the vacant living hall. A thick layer of dust covered the furniture, but the empty pots and clothes cluttering the floor showed someone had lived there recently. Faint candlelight came from the alcove, painting a shadowy figure on the wall. Slowly, Lucy sneaked closer and peeked behind the corner. Natsu stayed behind and held his breath as she spoke.

"Uhm… Hey, are you alright?"

A deadly silence fell to the house.

The sobbing and the stabbing stopped, and Natsu's mind filled with panicky regret. 'What if the kid gets hostile?' he thought, realising his mistake. 'Damn, why am I behind her? I should've checked this, not her.'

The shadow moved on the wall. Natsu stepped closer to Lucy and put his hand on the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw it out if needed. His heart jumped to his throat when a black-haired boy emerged from the alcove, wearing a wide smile.

"It worked! I knew you'd come, I just knew it!" the boy exclaimed and wiped the dust from his torn, red shirt. "I did the Black Sacrament, over and over, with the body and the… things. And then you came! Assassins from the Dark Brotherhood!"

Natsu and Lucy exchanged confused looks as the boy stared at them, his dark eyes lit in joy. His clothes hung loosely on his thin body as if he hadn't eaten anything in weeks. Judging from that, he couldn't be anyone else than Aventus Aretino. Kids who escaped from orphanages rarely knew how to cook for themselves. He looked around twelve, maybe thirteen years old. 

As the kid showed no signs of hostility, Natsu let his eyes wander past the boy. In the alcove behind him were candles formed in a circle. They surrounded an effigy made from bones and flesh, arranged in the shape of a human. A dagger was struck in the centre of the horrific thing, with petals of nightshade strewn on the floor.

Natsu opened his mouth, struggling to get any words out. "We're not who you think we –"

"Yes, of course", Lucy interrupted his nervous mumbling. "The Black Sacrament..."

Blankly, the mage stared at Lucy, unable to believe what she had just said. Was she really going to pretend to be an assassin to make the boy stop that madness? The rumours of the Aretino boy trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood had been true, and they were spreading all over the city. Someone must've heard his frantic efforts, and the sooner he'd stop it, the better. It would make an end to the rumours, hopefully.

"It took so long, so very long… But now you're finally here, you can accept my contract!" Aventus declared, his tone confident and strong.

"Contract?" Lucy blinked and asked, causing Natsu to cringe. If she tried to pretend she was from the Brotherhood, she should try a little bit harder. Show some professionalism. 'By Sheogorath's beard, what are you doing?' he thought, but retreated to the back of the room. He wasn't sure if he could keep his mouth shut otherwise.

"My mother, she… she died, and I was sent to that horrible orphanage in Riften", Aventus responded gloomily, crossing his arms on his chest. "Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she's not kind. She's terrible. To all of us. So I ran away and came home. Then I did the Sacrament, and now you're here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind!"

Natsu turned his back at them as he realised what was going on. He slammed his palm on his forehead, dragging his fingers down his face. 

'No, no, no, Lucy, just –'

"Are you sure about this?" she questioned. "Murdering this woman?"

' – do not accept that.'

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life", Aventus assured. "Someone like Grelod doesn't deserve to live one more day. She's a monster!"

Lucy gave him a long look, then she nodded. "Okay, we'll… The Dark Brotherhood will see to it."

Natsu wanted to burst into laughter and tears at the same time. He couldn't believe Lucy had accepted the boy's plea, even if it had been a lie. She couldn't really mean to kill the headmistress, Natsu knew. If she had been thrown over by killing a bandit in self-defence, she couldn't bring herself to kill a leader of an orphanage. It just… had to be a sham. There was no other way.

"You just… Wait, and clean up… that mess. Grelod the Kind will meet her fate, eventually", Lucy affirmed, and the boy replied with an obedient nod. Then Natsu realised what Lucy intended. Aventus had called Grelod 'the old crone', which meant the elderly woman could meet her end by natural means, sooner or later.

In some sense, it was clever of her.

As the tension in the air released, Natsu dared to take a better look at the place. There were two small beds in the room, which he found strange. The boy probably had lived only with his mother, his father seemingly absent. That would explain why he'd been sent to the orphanage. Losing his only parent must've driven the poor boy insane. Insane enough to try to summon the Dark Brotherhood to help him out.

And it terrified Natsu how strongly he related to that.

"What happened to your mom, boy?" the mage asked, surprising himself by speaking. The question just came out of his mouth. The boy's eyes flitted to him, slightly widening before sorrow narrowed them again.

"She… she got sick last year when the snows came. She just… never got better", Aventus answered quietly. "One night she fell asleep and… never woke up."

Natsu felt a strike in his heart, in a wound he thought he'd hardened a long time ago. Unable to say anything, he simply nodded as a flood of suppressed emotions washed over him. First, the homeless girl brought back the time he wandered around Skyrim on his way to the College, and then this boy reminded him why he'd left in the first place. 

Mom's death. The pain and sorrow mixed in relief of knowing she could finally rest. And just like it had been for Arentino, the aftermath had been almost worse than the actual loss.

When the mage zoned out to relive the night he had dug mom's grave with dad, Lucy tugged his sleeve and brought him back to the present moment. Natsu glanced at her quickly, meeting her brown eyes full of compassion so unfamiliar to him. As if she had read his thoughts, heard the story in his silence. Growing uncomfortable, he had to look away before he'd reveal too much.

"Please hurry. To be honest, I'm kind of lonely here", Aventus said, noticing they were about to take their leave. "As much as I hated getting sent to Honorhall, I really miss my friends there..."

"It's alright now", Lucy consoled and turned towards the stairway, prompting Natsu to follow her. "Everything will be taken care of."

Aventus waved at them as they disappeared to the stairs. Lucy waved back at him, but Natsu couldn't. The haunting echo of loss lingered in his chest, crawling up to his throat to strangle him. Part of him wanted to stay behind and talk with that boy like he'd talk to the younger version of himself.

He had also been thirteen and motherless.

Maybe he wouldn't say anything wise, for there was no wisdom in a loss that great. Only pain. But he wanted to warn that boy to turn away from that path before it would be too late. It wasn't good to be alone now. If Igneel hadn't caught him then, he would've fallen into someplace dark as well.

Lucy creaked the door open and checked the street was empty before stepping out. Natsu followed and closed the door behind him. The daylight burned his eyes again, and the fresh air failed to make him feel any better. And the way Lucy seemed unbothered about all of that, it just... it bugged him the wrong way. If Sofie's fate had made her emotional, why was she so calm now?

"What the fuck was that all about?" Natsu asked her while they walked down the street, anger in his tone covering his underlying sadness. "Pretending to be an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood? Really?"

Natsu tried to switch his focus from his past to the present, but it wasn't easy. Damn, it was so fucking far from easy. Even Lucy with her fair hair braided reminded him of mom. Her hair had always been braided, even when it became brittle and thin towards the end.  

"Yes? The boy was tormented", Lucy responded and peered around again. With no-one there to hear them, she halted. "He had to be helped. Somehow. Couldn't you see how his eyes sparkled when we finally came?"

Natsu stopped next to her. His eyes narrowed as he lowered his voice. "Do you just… Do you know anything about the Brotherhood? What they could do to you if you mess with them?"

Lucy cocked her head, shrugging her right shoulder. "They're assassins? They'd... assassinate me, I guess?"

Natsu threw his back at the stone wall, slowly trickling down to the ground. He buried his face into his hands and let out a long, painful sigh. His headache crept back and the wound in his arm reminded him of its existence. The potions the court wizard had given him were wearing off, just as if he didn't feel miserable enough already.

"For fuck's sake", he mumbled into his palms.

"What?"

Natsu took a deep breath as he placed his hands on his knees and looked Lucy into the eyes. "You should be more cautious", he sighed, meaning it fully. 

His brother had told him stories about the Dark Brotherhood. Natsu had been six when Zeref had left for the College, but he remembered him vividly, especially the things they did together. Once Zeref found a book called 'A Kiss, Sweet Mother'. It had contained the exact instructions of the Black Sacrament.

The Daedra weren't the only controversial thing Zeref was interested in.

'If you ever need to see someone dead, do this, and the Night Mother will answer your prayers', Zeref had said with a twisted grin while they had read the book. Natsu had been too young to understand it, but the description of the ritual was so grotesquely detailed he could still recall it years later. Aventus must have gotten his hands on the same book. There was no other way a kid would know how to do it.

There had been one moment in Natsu's life when he had actually considered doing it too, and he hadn't been much older than Aventus.

"Just calm down. We'll never have to hear about this again", Lucy assured full of naive faith. "All that matters is that at least he believes someone is going to… solve his problem. He had been doing that a long time, and no-one from the Brotherhood had talked to him. What if they don't even exist anymore?"

"They do. They do exist. And I wouldn't mess with them if I were you", Natsu warned, remembering rather well what the Companion had told him. "Damn, Erza has been away for an hour and look where we're at."

A playful grin appeared on Lucy's face. "You miss her?"

Ignoring the question, Natsu shook his head and continued. "She of all people wouldn't have let you go there."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it anymore", Lucy retorted, her tone getting annoyed. "What's done is done. Let the poor boy rest and clear his thoughts."

Natsu didn't know how to answer that. He let the silence fall as he leaned against the wall, the snow beneath him chilling his legs. He wanted to bury his throbbing arm into the snow too, but couldn't risk infecting it again. Chewing his lower lip, he tried to keep away the resurfacing memories. But they just came, swarming around him like gnats in a summer night.

"You're making this bigger than it really is", Lucy said, making Natsu scoff. He covered his face with his hands again to shield his eyes from the sun, and to cover the tears he couldn't fight back anymore.

If there was a magic spell to make him forget everything that ever happened to him, he'd use it without a moment's doubt.

"It's… It's… just..." he stuttered into his palms, failing to make up an excuse. What could he say? His past wasn't kind of a subject he wanted to open to anyone. Even Igneel had known only a fracture of it, nothing more. Talking about it made him feel weak and small. 

"You took it personally", she said silently, stepped next to him and leaned against the wall. Her gaze wandered above the snow-covered roofs. "You lost your mother at his age, and now it's all coming back to you, am I right?"

A cold wind brushed against them as silence fell again. As if Lucy had a sixth sense, she had read his mind and found the reason behind his sudden sulking. Natsu couldn't understand how she did that, but it made him embarrassed. Maybe he had told her too much, but then again, what would it matter? 

Perhaps she did that to forget her own pain. While some curled into themselves, some turned into others. Lucy seemed to belong to the latter group, and she could be trusted. Lucy wasn't mocking him or anything. She sincerely wanted to listen and help.

He had thought the events of Helgen would've turned a new page in the story of his life, but it wasn't like that. Even a dragon couldn't burn away his past. It would always be there. And the longer he'd keep it all inside, the larger hole it would gnaw into his heart. 

He didn't want to end up like his dad. Old, bitter and angry. 

"You know, my dad said I'll end up in an orphanage", Natsu started quietly, placing his hands below his chin. He stared into the mountain tops shimmering in the distance, behind the city walls. "When I… ran from home. He said the guards would catch me and send me to Honorhall."

"But why? If your dad was still alive, why would've they taken you to Riften?" Lucy asked, but fell quiet for a moment. "You said you didn't leave in very good terms, so..."

Natsu had already told her how he left home, but never the details. It was the morning after they had buried mom. Natsu had stayed up all night thinking and planning, and packed up his things at dawn. And while eating breakfast Natsu had told his father he was going to leave to the College. He hadn't asked for permission. It had been a declaration. He was going, and that was final.

Father had stood up so fast that he threw the table down, the plates and mugs breaking as they fell to the floor.

"Yeah", Natsu chuckled dryly. "He pretty much denied I'm his son."

On that day, he knew his childhood had come to an end, the innocence of a child now lost.

Natsu felt Lucy's gaze on him as she whispered, "So he was that furious."

"To put it lightly, yes", Natsu admitted. "But I can understand it now. He was sick with rockjoint and would've needed help at home. He must have thought I'd take care of him until he'd die, and got mad when I selfishly left him alone."

Years back, it had bothered him a lot. Sometimes he wanted to go back and make up with his father, but after thinking about it for a while he realised they just wouldn't be able to reconcile. Father was hard-headed like a goat, and kept an iron grudge. He wouldn't forgive. And because he hadn't died yet, it meant he had survived just fine without anyone's help. A letter of inheritance would be the first and the last thing he would contact his outcast son with.

"But you did it to pursue your own path in life", Lucy reassured with a sympathetic smile. "I used to dream about running away, too."

Natsu answered the smile but hid it into his hands. "But you never did."

"I didn't dare. How old were you then? Thirteen? And nobody caught you?"

"Nobody gave a shit", he shrugged. "Like nobody gave a shit about that Sofie. Nobody cares about lonely kids running around until they're performing the Black fucking Sacrament. And not even then it seems."

In an ideal world, children wouldn't be orphaned or homeless, but not in reality. With the wars raging around, diseases spreading around the country, and the cold winters taking their toll, too many had to bid farewell to their families. People had grown used to it. 

"How did you make it?" Lucy asked, turning to look at him. "To the College. It's a long way from Dragonbridge to Winterhold."

"It's a long story."

"Tell me about it? I'd like to know."

Natsu glanced at her, too confused to say anything. Did she really care, or did she just love good stories? His story would be far from good. Even he didn't like to revisit it too often. It always left him feeling like this. Like shit. 

"Shouldn't we be like, getting to the stables already?" he asked.

"Oh shit, I almost forgot!" she cried, making Natsu smile shortly. He still found it strange when she spoke like that. She looked like a girl who didn't swear, but it seemed she was full of surprises. "Come on, get up and let's go. You can tell me on the way? It will get boring on the road."

Lucy lent a hand for him, helping him get up. Natsu took it and pulled himself on his feet, then let go and wiped the snow from his robes. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he was sure it was time to go. His mind filled with a different kind of dread, but he welcomed it with open arms. Anything was better than dwelling in his past sorrows. 

"If I can speak from vomiting, then I might", Natsu said as they hurried through the city. Gladly they weren't far away from the main gates. Guards opened the heavy doors for them, allowing them to leave the city.

"Is there any potions for that?" Lucy asked as they stepped on the bridge leading to the other side of the river. It looked strange in daylight. They could see as far as into the Sea of Ghosts.

"I don't know", Natsu shrugged. "I haven't ever even heard anyone else getting sick on riding a carriage. Igneel laughed when I told about it for the first time. He didn't believe it until he saw me puking off the cart."

"Well, I haven't met anyone with pink hair either. Could it be connected?" Lucy wondered. "To the nightshade poisoning. Just because you came up alive doesn't mean it wouldn't have any other consequences than your hair."

"Never thought about it that way, but maybe..."

He could smell the stables when they reached the end of the bridge. Though horses weren't the reason behind Natsu's sickness, he always associated their smell to carriage rides, and it alone was enough to twist his stomach.

"Have you ever rode a horse? Does that make you sick?" Lucy asked.

Natsu lifted his shoulders. "Not too many times, but I can't remember feeling sick then", he answered. "But carriages, they're just... fucking worst. I'm sitting still but moving around and it makes no fucking sense."

It had started when Natsu had been little. As a poor farmer family, they could never travel far from home. Especially with a carriage. Natsu's first time in a cart had been when Zeref got ill. He had been feverish for a week and started having seizures, so his parents took him to Solitude to see a proper healer. Natsu had been too young to be left alone, so he came with them.

When the wagon had left the stables, Natsu felt his insides twisting into one miserable knot. He had shivered and vomited until they reached Solitude, making his mother a nervous wreck. She had thought Natsu had gotten ill too, and they didn't have enough money to get treatment for their both sons. But when the wagons stopped, his sickness disappeared to the thin air. Fortunately.

It would've been an easy choice for his parents to decide which one they would cure.

The healers in Solitude found out Zeref didn't have a deadly disease. Instead, he had ingested poisonous herbs during his alchemy research. He survived with the right antidotes, but the treatment cost a fortune. It took all of their little savings and more, but Zeref lived, and it was all that mattered to his parents. To let the prodigy live.

Even then Natsu had known that if it had been him, they would've let him die.

Lucy led him to the stables, where they met one of the Jarl's men. As inconspicuously as he could, he led the mages to a carriage. He gave them a bag containing warmer clothes, for sitting still without proper protection from the cold would be fatal in the worst case.

Reluctantly, Natsu climbed into the cart after Lucy. "I'm going to fucking die."

"You can't", Lucy playfully knocked her elbow to his side as she took a seat. "Because you can't show me the College if you do. I can hold your hair while you puke, but just don't die."

"Just knock me unconscious."

Lucy smiled at him when the cart started moving, and maybe he was just imagining it, but suddenly it didn't feel as bad as he remembered.

He would manage, for he knew would soon be back in a place he could call home. 

A/N: Aventus doing the ritual and Windhelm Stables

By the way, I edited the first chapter and will edit chapters 2-5 later once I got enough time. I started this fic as a side project and so the first chapters weren't really my best, and now as this fic has become my main project I want the first chapters to be better.

I also added photos to every chapter if you want to check them!

Chapter Text

Towards the end of their journey, time seemed to slow down.

As they passed through snowy forests, Lucy's mind grew more and more restless. Knowing she'd fulfill her biggest dream today felt so unreal. What if they wouldn't take her in? What if she wasn't talented enough to become an apprentice? But considering how fast her skills had increased, it wouldn't hopefully be the case.

She had heard there was a test for those willing to enter the College. One would have to cast a required spell, and failure meant denial of access. That stressed her the most, her magicka still depleted for overusing it yesterday. Would they take her in if she told them she was the Dragonborn? That she could prove, but should she if it had to stay as a secret?

Lucy had been waiting for this so long she feared it would all slip through her fingers.

As the road led them to a mountain's side, Lucy knew they were close. She placed her hands in her armpits as her fingers grew numb again. A pair of wool mittens weren't enough to keep her hands warm. The bench she sat on was padded with bear's thick pelt, which insulated her from the worst cold. However, as the sun's warming rays disappeared behind the mountains, she started to have a chill.

Wrapping tighter into her fur cloak, she struggled to get comfortable. After a long day of sitting still, her body ached for motion or being able to lay down and stretch. She almost hoped she could travel like Natsu, but once she'd seen him puking out his breakfast she envied him no more.

The mage curled up in a ball on the floor of the cart, covered under fur blankets. Lucy wasn't sure if he was asleep or not. He had grabbed the edge of the blanket, gripping it with white knuckles. Natsu had been okay for the first ten minutes, but then it had begun. His face had lost color as he tried not to throw up. And when the road made its first curve, he had stooped outside the cart and puked until there was nothing left in his stomach.

Since then he had lied at Lucy's feet without uttering a single word.

Beside her wonders and worries about joining the College, Lucy had been thinking about him and the Aretino boy. She had kept her emotions contained in the morning and she still did, even though the boy's fate disturbed her a lot. If it had a disheartening impact on her she couldn't imagine what Natsu must've been feeling. To him, it was much more personal.

Lucy looked at the mage again, smiling gently. Lucy had always been a person her friends had trusted with their problems, and she had done her best to help them. Listening to others had made her forget her own pain for a while. No matter how macabre the morning had been, she was glad it got him to talk to her. His words had been raw and quiet, smothered by years of suppressed pain.

Though all of her former friends were gone now, Lucy's desire to help wasn't. Natsu had saved her life and taught her magic, so hearing out things he evaded to tell was the least she could do.

She had hoped they could've continued their discussion while on the road, but silence was all she got. Lucy had wanted to hear about his adventures, people of the College, the teachers, about everything. What kind of lessons did they have? Where did the students live? How many books were in the library? Guess she had to find out herself, the mage's speech paralyzed by his sickness.

Lucy let her eyes rest on the dimming sky. The sunset painted it in shades of purple and red, the horizon melting into the Sea of Ghosts. Blinding white fields of snow separated them from the ocean steaming in the distance. Natsu had told that the snows usually came during this time of a year. When the other world bid farewell to the summer, it was already the end of autumn in Winterhold.

It was the end of Last Seed, and waters were already freezing. In Helgen that point would be months away. If it were this cold now, how cold would it be in the heart of winter? Would she ever get used to it, or would she long for the warmth she had in the south? But she was a Nord, made to survive through ice and snow. Of course she would get used to it.

At least she wanted to believe.

A faint shape of a building appeared through the mist far in the distance. It looked like it stood in the sea on a lone stone pedestal. Placed at the end of the road, at the end of the world, it couldn't be anything else than the silhouette of the College.

"Are were there soon?" Lucy asked from the mage. "I can see something on the horizon."

The mage opened his eyes, weakly raising his head and falling down before he could see.

"I don't know but I fucking hope we are."

"You hanging in there?"

"Yeah", he mumbled. "Like hanging in a rope."

Lucy chuckled, hoping he was exaggerating.

"It's not a long way to go", the carriage's driver hollered. He was an elder man but said he was the fastest rider in all of Tamriel. Lucy couldn't see any difference to any other rider, but maybe they all said that.

Lucy watched as the silhouette in the distance became clearer and sharper which every passing minute.

Soon.

By the time they arrived the sun had already set. The lights of the College pierced through the darkness, and Lucy's heart dropped as she saw the city. More exactly, it wasn't a city anymore. Once the capital of Skyrim, now only a ruin. Most of Winterhold had plunged into the sea, and destroyed buildings stood behind the few houses left unscathed by the disaster.

The carriage stopped next to the inn, and the driver got up to help Lucy from the cart. She took the old man's hand as she stepped out, her legs numb and tingling as blood returned to them.

"What's the matter with him?" the man asked, pointing at the mage who still hadn't got up. "Is he going back to Windhelm or what?"

"I'll handle it", Lucy replied smiling. "Natsu! Get your ass over here, now!"

"Can't a man die in peace? Goddammit."

"No corpses in my cart", the driver stated and climbed into the wagon. He tossed aside the blankets and grabbed the mage from his neck and belt. As if he was as light as a child, the man threw him out of the cart. A cloud of snow puffed in the air as he dropped to the ground next to Lucy.

"It was a good ride", the mage muttered ironically. "But it's even better now it's over."

Lucy chuckled, wondering if he could get up on his own. The mage groaned and pushed himself from the ground, wiping snow from his robes and stretching his back.

The driver climbed back to the cart, grabbed the bridles, and whipped them gently. Upon his command, the horse began trotting, turning the carriage around to leave back on the road they had come from. When they were out of Lucy's sight, she took a better look at their destination.

An inn stood on the right side of the street, a Jarl's longhouse on the opposite side. A few chickens roamed freely between the buildings, pecking grains among the snow-covered cobblestones. The place was so eerily silent Lucy thought they'd arrived in a ghost town. Only a single guard patrolled the street, making Lucy wonder who he was looking after? The chickens?

The guard noticed them, raising his glare from the chickens to the mage.

"Natsu?" the guard asked. Natsu turned towards the voice, revealing his pink hair under his hood, thus confirming the guard's guess. He had to be known around here. "So you've returned. Seems like I'll be busy again…"

Natsu grinned at him. "Good to be home."

"Just try not to set anything on fire, all right?"

Natsu didn't answer as he began walking down the street. Lucy followed him and nodded to the guard as they passed by him.

The books did the College no justice when Lucy finally saw it with her own eyes, the sight telling more than the thousands of words Lucy had read.

Gasping, Lucy stopped before a gate. It opened to a stone bridge that crossed a shaft, leading to the free-standing pillar made of rock and ice where the College was built on. Except that it hadn't been built there. The ground surrounding it had fallen into the sea during the Great Collapse a century ago.

"Come on", Natsu said, climbing up the stairs and stopping in the shelter of the gate. "The bridge can be a bit flimsy, so watch your step."

Lucy walked after him, feeling magic seeping from the rock as she placed her foot on it. She took a deep breath as she adored the eye-shaped pattern carved on the ground. She had seen it before in the robes of the mages from the College. How many mighty wizards had walked here, in the same place where Lucy now stood?

A brazier was built where the bridge made a turn, but instead of fire, magic fluttered there. Blue, circling magic enlightened the entrance, guiding Lucy forward. They climbed up, the bridge growing narrow and rumbled. Stones had fallen into the ocean far below, and glancing down made Lucy's stomach twist.

She grabbed the intact railing to feel more steady while Natsu just leaped past the broken parts like it was nothing. The fall had to be a hundred metres at least, and Lucy didn't want to take that fall.

Lucy sighed from relief when they reached the end of the bridge, arriving at the closed iron gates. She stopped by Natsu's side, staring at it in awe. The walls of the College towered high upon them, almost as if reaching the sky.

"Hey! Anyone still up? I lost my key!" Natsu shouted and banged his fist on the iron, making it clatter against its hinges.

Lucy lowered her gaze from the walls to the courtyard. Another magical brazier was located in the middle, giving light to the entire yard. A statue of Shalidor, the first Arch-Mage was erected behind it, but more than that, Lucy couldn't see yet.

She had thought the College would be crowded with mages, but it didn't seem to be the reality. Maybe most of them were already asleep? It would be smart to go to sleep early if the lessons started at cockcrow.

Then someone walked behind the iron gate.

"Oh, you", a man's voice asked, scoffing. "Wasn't expecting to see you around anymore."

Lucy's eyes caught a pale figure moving closer, and from Natsu's sour expression, Lucy deemed he knew the man.

"You were waiting for me? How sweet of you."

"Who's she?" the man asked, eyeing at Lucy while ignoring Natsu's ridicule. "Did Igneel get turned into a woman or did you finally get yourself a girl? Or did Igneel become your girl?"

Lucy's cheeks flushed, the warmth almost making her miss the sensitive subject the man had either accidentally or purposefully touched. She and Natsu were just becoming friends, and Lucy couldn't even imagine them ever being anything more.

But to be honest, Lucy couldn't see him ever being anything with anyone. The way he had turned down a woman in Fort Amol made it clear. Either he was too dense to get a hint or then he simply didn't have an interest in that kind of a thing. Maybe that inspired the jokes among his fellow mages.

Thanks to Natsu's grim expression, Lucy managed to turn her thoughts away.

"Shut up, man", Natsu spat out, managing to ignore the talk about Igneel. "She's Lucy. Now open this fucking gate."

After a second of silence, the man opened the gates. As the iron bars shifted aside, Lucy got a better look at him. His chest was bare instead of white robes as Lucy had first thought, only short pants covering his nakedness. His dark eyes glimmered behind his charcoal-black, spiky hair, glaring at Lucy.

"Why am I not surprised you're half-naked again?" Natsu scoffed, looking down at the man's muscular body. "Get dressed already, you damn creep."

The black-haired answered by lifting his shoulders. "I'm just training as always", he said, seeming relaxed despite his lack of clothing. Wasn't he getting cold? Lucy had a fur cloak around her and she was shivering.

"Training to freeze your balls off?"

Lucy pinched her brows as she wondered what was going on between those two. Natsu's tone was playfully hostile, one kind of Lucy hadn't heard before. As if a lot of bad blood had spilled in the past.

Lucy glanced at the man again, his bare body sturdy and tall. He had the features of a Nord, and suddenly she remembered one thing Natsu once said.

"There's a crazy Nord in the College who barely wears any clothes. His name is Gray, and he'd go into a snowstorm in his underwear."

Judging from that, he couldn't be anyone else than Gray.

As his head tilted towards the magelight roaming in the brazier, Lucy noticed his eyes weren't black, but gray. Was that how he got his name? "I wouldn't be judging other man's balls if I were you, you little fiery shit."

Lucy clenched her hands into fists inside her mittens. Natsu was about to retort, but Lucy interrupted him.

"Could you just stop, both of you?" She raised her voice. "Joining this College is my biggest dream, so if you want to argue about your manly parts go do it somewhere else."

Natsu turned away from Gray and whispered to Lucy, "Don't mind him, he's always like that." Loud enough for the man to hear.

Lucy rolled her eyes, sighing. There was nothing to praise about Natsu's behavior either, the two of them equally childish. Gray didn't bother to argue with him anymore.

"Anyway, if you want to join the College, Mirajane is talking with Makarov right now", Gray said as he walked away. "You should wait until they get their business over with."

"Actually, I have something to say to Makarov as well", Natsu answered with sharp bitterness in his tone, meeting Gray's quizzical stare. "Igneel's dead."

The words brought him into a halt, all annoyance vanishing from Gray's eyes. He mumbled an apology, but Natsu didn't stay to hear it. He grabbed Lucy from the sleeve of her robes and dragged her to the door behind Shalidor's statue. Lucy watched how Gray disappeared into the dark as Natsu's hand on her back pushed her indoors.

The sound of a heavy wooden door slamming shut echoed in the entry hall.

Lucy put back her hood, perfect awe freezing her body. Shivering becoming chills, she stared into the great, circular hall opening behind another iron gate.

"Sorry 'bout that", Natsu said behind her. "I can't stand being around that annoying pervert."

Lucy stayed silent. Suddenly she just forgot everything that had just happened, the astounding beauty of the College capturing her fully. The architecture itself was magical, every detail in the walls carefully thought out. She lost herself in the ornaments adorning the gate, not listening at all as Natsu continued his quibble.

"At least he had his pants on this time. Most often he doesn't. He might be wearing robes one second and the next he's butt naked. Don't know how he does it, or why… It creeps me out. Anyway, let's climb up to the Arch-Mage's quarters."

"So Mirajane is the master wizard?" Lucy asked, somehow recalling what Natsu had told earlier.

"Yes. She's all sweet and charming until you make her angry. She's a master of Alteration and can transform herself into a daedric demon. Hope you don't need to ever see that. Damn, she's like Erza when she's mad, except worse", Natsu said, suddenly seeming awkward. He had surely made her mad quite a few times. Natsu rubbed his neck, noticing Lucy was still staring into the hall. "Anyway, here's the Hall of the Elements. It's where most of our lessons are kept. Sometimes we train in the courtyard or and sometimes we make expeditions into some ancient ruins, but almost always we are just here."

"It's so beautiful", Lucy answered quietly.

"I'm sure Mirajane will give you a proper tour later, but there's the Arcanaeum", Natsu told then, pointing to the door at their right. "It's the boring hall. All the books are here. Don't mess with the Librarian though. Levy is nice but very protective about her books."

Lucy nodded, hiding her chuckle. She had no doubt how Natsu had learned that. Instead of letting her see the library now, Natsu led her to the other door.

"Here are the Arch-Mage's quarters", he said and tested the iron knob. It wasn't locked. "We apprentices must not bother the Arch-Mage until it's absolutely necessary, but well, I think now it is. Deaths, they have to be reported directly to Makarov. And it seems Mirajane forgot to lock the door."

Natsu stepped into the dark stairway, Lucy following right behind him. They climbed up the stone steps and arrived at another door. Natsu knocked before entering, not waiting if anyone would open.

"Hey, it's me", he said, interrupting the quiet chatter. "It's important."

Lucy lingered in the staircase for a moment, hesitantly stepping into the lobby. She eyed at the walls lined with bookshelves, her gaze leading into the chamber ahead of them. In front of an indoor garden stood a very short, grey-bearded man talking to a beautiful, white-haired elven woman. Both of them had their eyes locked on Natsu, as if Lucy wasn't there at all.

"Natsu?" the Arch-Mage Makarov wondered, his elderly voice filled with confusion. He turned towards him, walking closer. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, taking support from his staff. "It is really you."

Natsu scratched the back of his head, nervously avoiding the man's examining gaze. "You're all acting like I'm supposed to be dead."

"It's because we received a letter from the Imperial Legion a week ago, saying you and Igneel will be executed in Helgen", the elven woman said, concern and worry showing through her. She had to be the Master Wizard, Mirajane. "They described what you did, and made it clear such destruction would no longer be tolerated, or the whole College would pay."

"But since you're here now, we assume something went wrong. You managed to escape?" Makarov asked. Natsu had an answer ready.

"Yeah, a dragon went wrong."

"So it's true then. The dragons have returned", Makarov sighed, his old eyes finding Lucy. She was still standing in the doorway, not daring to step in. "Igneel did not make it, then?"

Against Lucy's expectations, Natsu remained perfectly calm. Lucy knew he had feared this moment, but here he stood, bravely facing whatever reaction he would receive.

"He didn't."

The old man closed his eyes, falling silent for a moment. He had known the answer, but Lucy could see how his shoulders went stiff from the weight of an apprentice's death. How much the Arch-Mage took part in the student's lives, Lucy didn't know, but it was clear he didn't take the news easy.

"I always knew one of you would one day come back alone. Perhaps I was part right, part wrong", the Arch-Mage said then. "Who's this new face by your side? What business does she have?"

Lucy froze, not knowing what to say. She didn't want to break the gloomy atmosphere, feeling like dishonoring the dead if she'd speak – and disrespectful to the Arch-Mage if she wouldn't.

"I'm Lucy", she said then and cleared her throat. "I wish to join this College. I want to learn about magic and wield it as powerfully as my ancestors once did."

The surprise in the old man's eyes made Lucy doubt if she had said something wrong. Did she interrupt a custom of a sort? Had she been too hasty or inappropriate? Was she supposed to be invited into the College instead of asking to join?

"You do?" Mirajane answered, stepping in as Makarov silenced. Lucy figured Makarov wasn't the one to choose new apprentices. "Those wishing to enter must show some degree of talent with magic. Could you demonstrate your skills for us?"

Nervousness bubbling in her chest, Lucy bit her lip and took off her mittens. She put them on her belt, clenching her fingers, still numb from the cold. She felt Natsu's eyes on her, knowing he'd oppose it, but she didn't care.

"Can't we do this tomorrow?"Natsu asked, the question directed to her. "We've had a long journey, she'd surely do better after some rest. And we have to -"

"I can take the test now. What do you want me to cast?" Lucy said, trying to sound more confident than she was.

This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she wouldn't let it pass by.

"Excellent", Mirajane said, clasping her hands. "A standard spell for one skilled in Conjuration is Conjure Familiar. Do you know the spell?"

"Yes", Lucy said, relief filling her heart. "Wait a moment."

Lucy concentrated, trying to find magic from her tired blood. Collecting shards of her power into her palms, she prepared the gate, purple light swirling on her fingers. But the moment she tried to open the portal, it fell apart, the shimmers dying into the air. Lucy let out a frustrated sigh.

Just as she feared, she didn't have enough magicka.

"It's alright", Mirajane consoled. "You can try again later. You show great enthusiasm, and if you keep training, maybe you'll –"

"But I... But I..."

Natsu walked beside her, giving her a supportive pat on her shoulder. "Lucy's real good, she's just tired. She could, uhm, stay with me until she passes the test?" he said nervously. "What about getting some sleep first, Lucy? I'll show you my soul gem collection or something -"

Lucy shoved his hand away. "You can go sleep, but I won't until I've proved myself worthy of staying here."

"Lucy -"

She gathered her voice, raising her eyes from the floor into Mirajane. Desperation made her whole body tremble as the terror of not being accepted flooded over her. "Right now my magicka is depleted, but would you still grant entry to -"

"A descendant of Conjurer Anna?"

Makarov had sat down in his chair, everyone's heads turning at him when he spoke so suddenly. Air stuck in Lucy's throat.

"W-what?" she stuttered.

"There's no doubt of it. The looks, the wits... it's all like hers. Do you happen to have a relative named Anna, who was master at conjuration?"

Lucy blinked rapidly in disbelief. "Yes, my great-grandmother was Anna, and she was a conjurer. She'd... she'd be around 90 if she'd still live, but she died far before I was born. You knew her?"

"I knew her very well. She was a friend of mine, right here in the College."

"... here?"

Lucy glanced at Natsu, seeing his face as surprised as hers.

"She was a scholar here in her prime days, before her daughter was born", Makarov explained. "She settled down in Helgen after your grandmother's birth, disconnecting herself from the College. I've always been waiting for her offspring to wound up here. The magic was strong her blood, all her ancestors being mages as well."

In loss of words, Lucy stared at Makarov, unable to believe what she just heard. Mother had never mentioned Anna being in the College. Lucy had thought Anna had been only a free mage, practicing magic on her own. Why didn't Mother tell her?

"I think you'd make a superb addition in the College, Lucy", Makarov said then, smiling. "No need for any show-off. Right, Mirajane?"

"That's... That's alright", the elven woman agreed, the hint of doubt fading from her voice. "You can show us your skills once you've rested. Welcome, apprentice. Let's add your name in our books and make it official, shall we?"

Warmth spread from her smile into her whole body, the frightened trembling fading. Here it was, her biggest dream, just fulfilled. She had thought of joining the College as a goal itself, but right there she understood it was only a mere beginning.

The beginning of everything she ever dreamt of.

After signing Lucy as a student, Mirajane gave her a set of novice robes and told her the quick basics of studying and living in the College. It was getting late, so she promised to tell more tomorrow morning before the first lessons she'd attend.

Natsu twirled a key in his hands as they walked down the stairs, arriving in the Hall of the Elements. He lost the keys to his room while imprisoned, so Mirajane gave him a spare one. Ironically, he knew how to pick Igneel's lock but not his own. Upon their common agreement, Igneel's old room was given to Lucy. Something about it unsettled him, but he convicted himself Igneel wouldn't be needing it anymore.

Yet still, packing Igneel's things into a chest, emptying the room of his personal belongings made his death so horridly final.

Swallowing his grief, Natsu opened the large door leading to the courtyard. Mirajane had asked if he could give Lucy a brief tour while she'd prepare the room for Lucy, and Natsu had agreed. Despite knowing the College better than his own pockets, he didn't know where to start.

It didn't feel like home anymore, the walls familiar but the atmosphere lonely.

"There's the Hall of Attainment", he said while walking across the yard, pointing his finger to the right tower. "It's where I live. Igneel's room is in the first floor while mine's in the second."

Lucy looked down, a stunned smile still not fading from her lips. "Does your brother still have a room?"

"Yes, in the Hall of Countenance. It's where scholars and high-ranked wizards live, right on the other side of the yard. His room is locked though. Only Happy can get in. The spare key was given to Mavis back then."

'Where's Happy by the way?' Natsu wondered by himself, disappointed the ghost cat hadn't come to greet him yet. 'I bet he's on the roof as always.'

Natsu opened the heavy door of the Hall of Attainment, letting Lucy walk in before him. Warmth embraced him as he walked into the vestibule, another brazier lit in the middle of a circular tower. Doors lined the walls, and a staircase started on the opposite side of the hall. Some doors were open, allowing distinct chatter to travel through the air. Not everyone was asleep.

"How many rooms are in one tower?" Lucy asked, counting the doors.

"Fifteen here for apprentices. There are extra rooms for dining, a few storages, an alchemy lab and an enchanting room. Downstairs is the washing chambers, but be warned, the water is always cold."

There was one thing Natsu wanted to say to Lucy but didn't. He had noticed how she had almost slipped and revealed her identity as the Dragonborn. Natsu wanted to point her out for it but knew there were too many ears in the tower. Secrets spread like wildfire among the College when once set loose.

Lucy had been way too reckless today, and Natsu hoped it wouldn't be permanent. Otherwise, their mission to save the world from dragons wouldn't be a great success. Even Natsu knew when to act serious, but today Lucy had been on the verge of losing it.

"Igneel's room is behind that door, next to Gray's", Natsu said, gesturing towards the door closest to the staircase. "Mine's upstairs, but it's... It's kinda messy. Let's just drop our bags there before taking a look around?"

Lucy nodded, following him up the stairs. Like a phantom hand grasping at his throat, Natsu felt his grief creeping back again. He shoved it to the background, not giving it space to thrive.

Natsu sighed as they reached the second floor and saw Laxus, the Arch-Mage's grandson, and his friends sitting in the dining room drinking mead. Laxus gave him a confused glare before raising his hand to greet him. Natsu lifted his hand in return, only faintly touching his own cheek. He had no energy to deal with anyone, knowing they all had the same question in mind. A question too painful to answer.

He walked to the second door on the left and placed the key in the lock. The old key got stuck from the edges, forcing him to violently thrust it in. It creaked and rattled, but luckily the door opened before he lost his nerves.

"Home sweet home", Natsu mumbled and swung his bag away from his shoulders. Lucy peeked past him into his room, her eyes widening at the sight.

"Kinda messy?" she asked, almost as a squeal. "Have you ever cleaned here?"

Natsu stepped in, casting a magelight into the ceiling. He threw his bag on his unmade bed, relieved to have its weight off his shoulders. That's what his room was for: dumping the extra weight, mostly on the floor. Natsu wasn't much of an organizer, and it showed.

"Once, when Mira threatened to capture my soul in one of these gems if I wouldn't place them on the shelf."

Memories from his former adventures adorned the wall shelves and empty mead bottles collected dust on the night table. Worn clothes laid on the floor, piling up to reach his knees as he walked to the cabinet. Alchemy ingredients, random jewels, potions, notes and books… there was no end to the clutter. Lucy stood frozen in the doorway as she stared at the mess.

Natsu shoved his hand into his pocket, picking up the dragon tooth he collected yesterday. He twirled it in his fingers while looking for a suitable place for it. "Well, where should I put this?"

"Didn't think of you as a hoarder."

"Hoarder? I'm just collecting things from my travels. Mementos, you know", Natsu said, placing the dragon tooth between two black soul gems. On the same shelf was a bent piece of metal, formed in an oval shape. "I found this in a Dwemer ruin near Dawnstar. Isn't it cool? It's thousands of years old."

Lucy furrowed her brow, finally stepping into the room. She sat down on a chair next to the door, moving her backpack into her lap. "It's just scrap metal."

"It was attached to a Dwarven spider I destroyed. Strangely, the Dwarves have been gone for... I don't know how long, but their creations are still functional, performing whatever things their masters once tasked them with."

"Sounds haunting."

"Dwemer ruins are haunting. A whole civilization lost to the ages. You've probably read about it. But it was fun to explore the ruins with Igneel. Lots of traps though." Natsu chuckled at a memory surfacing in his mind. "Damn, Igneel almost lost his prick into a spinning blade trap. Was it the same trip I got this from? Maybe. That explains why I'd drag it along."

Lucy pinched her eyes closed. "Please don't tell me more -"

"You know, he went to take a piss and accidentally stepped on a pressure plate, activating a hidden blade, and it... it almost sliced his dick off... The way he screamed was even funnier than the whole thing."

Lucy stared at Natsu, pressing her lips into a thin line and holding her breath. Then she broke into laughter, still trying to hold it back. Natsu smiled as he put the metal back to the shelf. To him, the joke wasn't that funny anymore, but back then he had laughed so much he ended up rolling on the floor, gasping for air through his spasmed lungs.

Would he ever laugh like that again? Sure, Lucy was also funny sometimes, Natsu doubted things like that would happen with her.

"Are you hungry?" Natsu asked, searching for an excuse to leave his room. There was nothing more to see, even though every item held a story to tell. Going through them would take hours and many ales. "I'll eat something before showing you around. There are too many stairs to walk with an empty stomach."

"The tour can wait 'til tomorrow. Even though it's so amazing to be there, I'm too tired for it", Lucy answered with a sigh, her laughter now gone. "So yeah, let's eat while Mirajane gets the room ready."

Natsu agreed, the long day taking its toll on him too. But despite his exhaustion, he didn't feel sleepy. It was sometimes like that after coming home after a long journey. An ale or two would surely help with that, prevent him from tossing and turning and staring into the dark ceiling until it would be dawn.

Lucy's gaze lingered on the soul gems as Natsu rose, questions appearing in her brown eyes. He had collected quite a few of them indeed, his last count being fifty-six. Most of them weren't filled. It crept him out to store souls of the animals inside the crystals, but he thought they were pretty as they were.

While Natsu locked the door, Lucy found herself into the dining room. It was a small hall with a long table with benches on each side. There were an oven and a fireplace for the students to cook their own food from the ingredients stored in barrels. Natsu rarely cooked, though. Mirajane always made sure everyone had a hearty meal, the woman preparing a huge kettle of stew every day.

It wasn't a Master Wizard's duty to do, but Mira loved to cook and bake. She said she forgot the worries of the world while dipping her fingers in the dough. Natsu never had an older sister, but he thought of Mira as one. He had lost count of how many times she had healed his burns and bruises when his training went too far during his novice years.

But besides her and Igneel, Natsu never really had other friends in the College, and he only realized it now.

"All food is for everyone", Natsu said and took a bowl for himself. "Personal treats shouldn't be stored here though. Leave your sweet rolls on the table and they'll be gone in a blink of an eye."

Lucy nodded, picking up apples, bread, and cheese. They sat down on the vacant end of the table, Laxus and his friends still eating on the other side. The Thunder Tribe they were called, the elven mages specializing in shock magic. Natsu rarely had any business with them and didn't really want to. Being the Arch-Mage's grandson had gotten into Laxus's head long ago, the young man more arrogant than Natsu liked to deal with.

"Hey Blondie", Laxus hollered to Lucy. "You're new here, yes? Haven't seen your face before."

"Uhm, yes", Lucy stuttered, hiding her mouth in a mug. "I'm Lucy. Just joined."

"Good. There ain't too many pretties here. Be seeing you around."

Natsu squeezed his fingers around the wooden spoon, staring Laxus from below his brows. The tall, blond Breton man was known for his ill intentions, often mocking the newcomers for the sakes of his own fun. Especially Gray got hazed by Laxus when he joined three years ago, the two still not standing each other.

To Natsu's relief, Laxus's group finished eating and left, letting silence fall into the dining hall. Laxus had something in his eyes which Natsu had rarely seen before. A pitying look, the closest thing to condolences the man would ever get.

His appetite suddenly gone, Natsu forced the stew down his throat. It was made from chicken, cabbage, and onions, but the flavor was gone, dulled by sadness. He and Igneel had lived in their own bubble, and everything was just so different now it was broken. Was this hollow silence how things would be from there on? Would everyone always look at him with that fucking pity in their eyes?

"Thank you", Lucy said suddenly, cutting him off from his thoughts.

"What?"

"Thank you for taking me here."

Natsu turned to look at her. "Anytime", he answered, instantly realizing it didn't really make any sense. Lucy didn't seem to mind, the woman silencing again to finish her apple.

When Lucy had eaten, they left their bowls and mugs on the dish table. Natsu thought he'd go straight to bed and drink the ales he had stored, but then he heard Mirajane's voice from downstairs.

"Natsu, come here!"

Letting out a tired sigh, Natsu headed into the stairs, his legs feeling heavy as logs. Mirajane stood at Igneel's door with an open chest beside her. He and Lucy walked to her, and Natsu's heart dropped into his stomach when he looked into the box.

Igneel had used soul gems the way they were supposed to. Instead of putting them on display, he trapped souls in them and used them in enchanting his weapons and armor. The gems on the bottom of the chest gleamed, the souls dancing inside of them.

"Do you want them?" Mira asked. "I know you collect soul gems."

"No thanks."

"You want to keep anything? I'll store his personal items away, but his robes will be given back to the College."

Natsu shook his head faintly and grasped his white scarf. "I don't need his clutter to remember him from."

Mirajane's eyes widened as she recognized the pattern on Natsu's scarf. Her lips twitched into an inward smile, brows tilting slightly to the side.

The mage's shoulders tensed as Mirajane suddenly wrapped her arms around them, pulling him against her chest.

"I'm so sorry for you", she whispered into his hair, so silent he could barely hear. "I know what it feels like to lose your kin."

Usually, Natsu didn't like being touched or hugged, but now he accepted Mira's embrace. It was genuine empathy, lacking pity he despised. Natsu knew where it came from. Mira was still haunted by her own loss, the accidental death of her little sister still weighing her down.

"Yeah."

"We thought we lost both of you, so I'm glad at least you made it back. The College has been awfully quiet the last few weeks."

Natsu pushed himself apart from the embrace, flashing a quick, fake smile and lowering his gaze to the floor of Igneel's room. His eyes locked to the chair next to the shelf. Air stuck in his throat because for the briefest moment he could see vividly see Igneel sitting there, reading books about the greatest deeds of his ancestors.

"I know", Natsu mumbled. "Still is."

Mirajane didn't say anything, but Natsu felt her eyes on him. He bit his lips, fighting back a sudden wave of emotions he knew he couldn't keep at bay much longer.

"You'll be fine from here?" Natsu asked, turning to Lucy. He knew she would be okay. She was in a good mood, bubbly happy even, and Mirajane wouldn't let her get lonely. 

"Yes", she answered. "You can get to sleep."

"Good night, then."

"Good night."

Natsu stormed upstairs, the route from Igneel's room to his own so familiar he could walk it even in his sleep. He picked up the key, turning it in the lock while holding back the damn tears.

And when he finally got into the lonely safety of his own room, they fell.

Coming home had never felt so fucking bad.

Torn between not wanting to be alone right now and not wanting anyone to see him crying, Natsu dragged himself to bed. He lied down in the dark and hid under all the blankets he had, still unable to cast away the coldness from his bones.

He had felt the same five years ago, the day he first arrived in College in late autumn. Laying awake in the same bed, staring into the same ceiling, feeling just as lonely. He had made all the way up here only to find his brother had been missing for a year already. The thought of a happy reunion had pushed him through the darkest moments but left him empty-handed.

His memories of the first days were shrouded in mist. His brother's disappearance had chased away his rest, his mind going through every possible scenario when he was supposed to sleep. Everyone knew as little as him, making him question what was the point of coming here after all. But he had no other home to go back to, what was done was done. His choices were going back to the streets and forests or settling into the College.

It had been his third day when Igneel found him crying in the dining room at night, trying to force himself to eat Mirajane's stew.

"Don't let Mira catch ya crying at her food", Igneel had said. "She'll turn into a demon."

Instead of ignoring him and walking away, Igneel had sat next to him to eat his own dinner. He had talked about everything except Zeref, Natsu's answers slowly changing from grunts into whole sentences.

So had begun the friendship which lasted into Igneel's last breath.

A door creaked, but no light got in. Flinching, Natsu raised his head, noticing his closet being suddenly opened. A ghostly tail swung beside the bed before a cat jumped on Natsu's stomach.

"Happy!" the mage shrieked. "You scared the shit out of me."

The cat leaned closer to his face, sniffling him with its whiskers ticking Natsu's cheeks. Despite being a conjured animal and being able to go through walls, it manifested as a corporeal being, Natsu feeling its weight as it kneaded his chest.

Had it been hiding in his closet all this time?

Happy curled up on his stomach, calming Natsu with its peaceful purring.

Natsu didn't know where the thought came from, but suddenly he realized his friendship with Igneel didn't have to end. Death might have separated them, but it wouldn't break their bond.

Just like his brother was still alive in a distance away, why wouldn't Igneel still exist in another plane? Natsu hadn't believed in afterlives before, but how could he know what came after death? Happy was Zeref's sign of showing he was still there, so maybe, just perhaps Igneel could also somehow tell him his spirit carried on, watched over his path, waiting for them to meet again.

All he'd need was the smallest sign, even in a dream, and then he'd know he'd one day feel like home again.

A/N: Photos from the College. More in the next chapter!

Chapter Text

Going through a dead man’s belongings turned out more haunting than Lucy had first thought. Especially when she had actually seen his death. She had been there, watching the stranger’s head separate from his body, and now she’d take up the place he had once called home.

Lucy picked up some dried lavender, wondering why Igneel had collected it. What kind of potions had he made from it? Or had he just collected flowers like Lucy? She didn’t really know anything of him, and Natsu didn’t want to tell, the wound still too raw to be opened. The only thing she was sure of was the way she felt like replacing him, even when she knew she really wasn’t.

If it was absurd for her, she couldn’t even imagine how Natsu felt about it. But judging from his abrupt departure, Lucy knew he didn’t take it well.

Feeling a painful twist in her chest, Lucy put the flowers into a satchel before giving it to Mirajane. The master wizard had said she’d make the quarters ready for her, but Lucy wanted to help. She wanted to find out what kind of a person had lived there before. However, the items he had left behind brought more questions than answers.

Unlike Natsu, Igneel hadn’t hoarded useless keepsakes. His shelves were strictly organized and clutter absent. The dust had fallen on the furniture during his absence and the bedding needed changing, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to clean.

With her hands growing restless, she replaced a staff in the weapon rack with her bow and arrows. She bit her lower lip as she gave the staff to Mirajane, the woman smiling pensively as she received it. A soul gem was seated on the top of it, surrounded with blade-like spikes. What kind of magic did it hold? Igneel had been into necromancy, so could it be used to reanimate the dead?

“I think that’s about it”, Mirajane sighed as she put the staff into the chest, leaving Lucy’s wonders unresolved. Mira closed the chest, her eyes gleaming. “We keep his belongings here for a while, but if no-one needs anything, they will be sent to his family in Solstheim.”

Lucy wanted to mention Felrys still being alive and well in Fort Amol, but after remembering his suspension from the College, she decided not to bring it up. Who would inherit his soul gems and books wasn’t her business. Living in his old quarters was enough to make her feel like an intruder.

Like inheriting the life that he had deserved.

Swallowing a sigh, Lucy took her journal, ink, and quill and opened the nightstand’s drawer. To her surprise, she found a small, brown-leathered notebook on the bottom of the box. She picked it up and gave it to Mirajane. “There’s still something.”

“Oh?” Mira wondered and leafed through the book. “Here’s… directions, for conjuring a tent. He actually jotted it down? Some other notes as well… Some necromancy spells, alchemy recipes…”

Lucy’s brow furrowed as a memory tried to rebound in her head. Where had she heard that before?

“Could I keep it?” Lucy asked, finally remembering it. “Natsu has mentioned that tent. Maybe he'd want it.”

Mirajane cast her a quick, warm smile. “Sure”, she answered, handing the notebook back to her. Lucy put it into the box with her journal and writing supplies, deciding to give it a read tomorrow. Then she froze next to the bed, her legs swaying gently as she zoned out again.

How old had Igneel even been? He had looked only a bit older than Natsu – way too young to die, but that youth would now be forever preserved. But how would she settle down in the ashes of his presence, while his image still hung in the walls and grievings hearts?

Perhaps the world left behind by the dead was what made their death so final. So concrete. The halls they had roamed, the words they had written, the flowers they had once held in their hands – the things were still there while the person wasn’t. The world carried on as they turned into mere wistful whispers in the wind.

Her newfound power of being the Dragonborn, her great-grandmother Anna having been a scholar here, and now this strangling feeling of replacing someone else… For a brief, passing moment everything felt so overwhelming it drove her to the verge of fainting.

“You look tired, Lucy”, Mirajane noticed, snapping Lucy out of ruminating in distressing thoughts. “Go to sleep, I’ll take it from here. You need rest.”

Lucy nodded, touching her forehead in dizziness. “Thank you”, she said as Mirajane walked to the door, collecting old sheets and the rest of Igneel’s clothes from the floor. The woman smiled as she left the room, leaving Lucy alone with her fatigued, conflicted mind.

‘I just need to rest.’

Candles burned on top of the drawer, the fluttering flames captivating Lucy’s gaze. She let out a long sigh as she slipped out of her black robes. The dirty, worn cloth fell to her ankles as she loosened the belt around her waist, cool air wrapping her bare body into an unfriendly embrace. She pulled open the dresser again and picked up the brown tunic Erza had given her and dove into it, hiding away from the cold before it would gnaw her to the bone.

Then she blew out the candles and collapsed to the bed. The dress still smelled of Erza, making Lucy think of her instead of Igneel. What would happen to the warrior now? How would her dragon-research go from here? Would they ever meet again, or would this dress be the only memory she would have? Just like the white scarf would be the only thing left of Igneel.

With her thoughts shifting from Erza to the dragons, Lucy fell asleep before she had even tucked herself under the blanket. And to Lucy’s relief, exhaustion robbed the nightmares from her, at least for one night.

Lucy awakened to the sensation of something tickling her feet, groggy as if she had just closed her eyes. The light bleeding through the dusty window let her know it was already dawn. Lucy pressed her face into the pillow and turned to her other side, pulling her legs closer to her body. Pleasantly enough her soles hid underneath a blanket, away from whatever had touched her toes.

Mirajane had been right. The well-deserved rest had cleared the fog in her mind, stealing away the anguish of last night. Feeling like she had all the time in the world, she let herself relax in the sweetness of a slow, soft waking. Her limbs lay heavy on the mattress, aches and sores melted away as she began to shift back to sleep.

But when a ghostly cat walked beside her bed and stuffed its nose to Lucy’s, she roused with a violent jump.

Lucy shrieked as she sprung up, fingers clenched into the blanket’s edge. The cat flinched at her scream and trotted to the bundle of cloth laying on the floor. It climbed on top of the black fabric and kneaded it before curling up on a ball, purring softly.

As her breath steadied and her heartbeat slowed down, Lucy stared at the pile of cloth, a frown forming on her forehead. She remembered Mirajane had taken the old bedding away, but she’d been so tired she could’ve been mistaken.

A gentle blue glow surrounded the cat, showing it wasn’t a regular cat. Suddenly it clicked. The cat had to be Happy, a creature Natsu’s brother had conjured years ago. A faint smile rose on Lucy’s lips as she calmed down, but only for a moment.

And as Lucy brushed her fingertips on the green sheets of the blanket, she remembered she had fallen asleep without it. Had Mirajane brought extra bedding for her, and tucked her in at the same time? It couldn’t be, because the door was locked. Something was off. Her frown deepened the longer she stared at the strange bundle on the floor.

Then it moved.

Her heart missed a beat. Lucy shot up to the edge of her bed, sudden nervousness grasping her throat. A conjured cat could move through walls, but why would it be there anyway?

She bounced up and took a careful step closer, the cat’s eyes following her movements. Her stomach dropped as she saw a pale hand underneath the blanket, and heard quiet snoring melting into Happy’s purrs. But when she recognized the pink hair of the one hiding there, her terror twisted into a humiliated rage.

“MY ROOM!” she cried out, startling the sleeping mage. “What are YOU doing in MY ROOM!?”

Dumbfounded, the harshly-awakened mage rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

“Man, I don’t know, I, uhm…” Natsu mumbled, lowering his gaze to the cat on his lap. “Happy, why are we here?”

Lucy used all of her strength to hold back the urge to kick him. His laid-back reaction made it worse. Yet they had spent the passing week very closely together, it didn’t give him the permission to come to her room at night. If she had missed his company she could’ve asked for it. And she definitely didn’t.

“Don’t ask your cat!” Lucy nearly shouted. “More exactly, how did you get here? I’m pretty damn sure my door was locked.”

“I don’t know, okay?” Natsu defended, a hint of growing annoyment in his voice. “I… I had a dream about Igneel I think, he said he needed something, but he was asleep and I couldn’t wake him up, so… So I waited for him to wake up I guess?”

If Lucy remembered right, Natsu had lost the ability to dream. Whether it had magically returned or he’d made up a poor excuse, Lucy didn’t care.

“You’re sleepwalking?” she asked, pausing for a moment. “No, you’re sleep-trespassing?”

Natsu shrugged, softly scratching Happy’s neck as it purred against him. “Maybe. Seems like it. Anyway…”

Lucy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms on her chest. “Anyway, get out of here”, she commanded, but the mage showed no sign of leaving.

“But this rug is comfortable.”

“Now!”

“Okay, okay, just calm –“ he started, but Lucy grabbed him from the neck of his robes and pulled, accidentally tugging his hair. “Hey, that hurt!”

“And it hurt my privacy to find you on my floor”, Lucy said, dragging the mage across the room. She unlocked the door and kicked it open, throwing Natsu into the hall. Fumbling, he grasped the wall, glaring at her like he had been the upset one. Lucy stayed in the doorway waiting for him to apologize, but he didn’t.

“Aren’t you even sorry?” she asked, scrunching her nose. Natsu let Happy go, and the cat rushed into someplace calm and quiet.

“For accidentally coming into my best friend’s old room while I slept? No, I’m not.”

“But the door was locked!”

“And I picked it.”

Lucy snorted, her rage almost twisting into hilarious frustration. She struggled to keep her tone serious as laughter slipped through her words. “You couldn’t even open a chest and then you suddenly open my door while asleep?”

“I’ve done that before”, Natsu tried to defend, doing damage than repair. “You have no idea how many times Igneel lost his key. The man sucked at lockpicking and I had to open the door for him, to save Mira from the trouble.”

“But –“

Natsu spoke over her ruthlessly. “Or when he overslept and I had to break in to wake him up so we wouldn’t miss a lesson. Or when I forgot my stuff in there and got to get them while he was taking a shit!”

Lucy hid her gasp as his voice rose towards the end. Falling silent for a moment, she took her time searching for words to say. While her hurt was already fading, he was getting pissed off. Lucy had a feeling he wouldn’t get mad at her, but it was a thing she didn’t want to test.

“But that’s still trespassing. It isn’t allowed here, right?”

“Why the fuck do you suddenly care when you’re the one breaking into Aretino's residence?”

“Don’t bring that to this! You just can’t come to my room when I’m sleeping!”

“I already said I didn’t mean to!”

“Then at least say that you’re sorry!”

“What’s happening here?” a man’s voice asked as the door next to Lucy’s opened. A black-haired mage peeked from behind the door, and Lucy recognized him as Gray. “Natsu, did you break into Lucy’s room?”

“No, I –“

“Yes, you did!” Lucy shouted, silencing him.

“Man, what’s wrong with you?” Gray scoffed, stepping into the hallway. “She’s new here and you’re already –“

Lucy’s gaze went down on the man’s bare body, a shriek escaping her lips as she realized he wasn’t wearing anything at all. Upon a reflex, Lucy shielded her eyes with her hands as she turned away, whimpering from embarrassment with blood rushing to her cheeks.

What was once seen couldn’t be unseen.

“She didn’t ask to see your dick, Gray!” Natsu yelled, and for once he was right. The image still burned in her eyes, and probably would for a while. “Nobody wants to see your fucking dick! Get dressed already you dirty creep!”

“Gods help me”, Lucy muttered as she sneaked into the safety of her room. She slammed the door shut in front of them, allowing them to argue by themselves. She had already had enough for today and the day hadn’t even begun yet.

Lucy plunged to the bed, trying to filter out the yelling from the hallway. No wonder why Gray had woken up. The stone walls and wooden doors didn’t keep out the noise, letting Lucy enjoy the full show of a verbal fight between two mages. Not that there was much to enjoy, though.

“I’m dirty? Well, you smell like a Hagraven. And you look like one, too. A stalking Hagraven!”

“Fuck you, flasher.”

“Elf-ears!”

“Ice princess!”

The sound of a fist meeting a cheek made Lucy flinch. She had expected that, but not so soon.

“Hey! Why you…” Natsu grunted, and then Lucy heard another smack as they ran out of insults and switched into fists. “For fuck’s sake, put some pants on before you hit someone! I won’t brawl with a naked man!”

“Afraid it would look strange?”

“I don’t want your dick in my face when I throw you to the ground!”

“Ha! Like this?”

“No –“

Someone thumped against the stone floor, and from the scream, Lucy assumed it was Natsu. Gray laughed, invoking a burst of fiery swearing from his fellow mage. Lucy squeezed the pillow around her ears, wondering how fast she would lose her sanity when surrounded by such idiots.

“Shit, my arm…”

“Better not to call me an ‘ice princess’ again, you snowback!”

“You’re the one who was provoking me, you filthy slime ball.”

“Oh yeah? What exactly did I do to provoke you, flame-brained lizard?”

“Existed!”

“What the fuck are you guys doing again?” said a baritone voice. Lucy recalled him as the one who had talked to her yesterday during dinner, one whose name she didn’t know. The tall and blonde man with a scar running over his eye.

“Nothing”, the mages answered.

“Whatever, go do that someplace else. Your ‘nothing’ is waking everyone up.”

Silence fell to the hall and steps faded away. For a second Lucy tried to hold back a laugh, but then it escaped, bubbling from her throat as the tension disappeared. It had been so stupid. She had gotten boiled up for nothing. Nothing too serious, at least.  

Lucy rolled to her side and pulled the blanket over her body. She had ignored the cold in the heat of her anger, and a chill crept to her bones as it subsided. Erza’s old tunic wasn’t warm enough in this cold climate. She would need a thick, knitted pullover and woolen leggings to stay warm. Mother had made her wear those during winter. Her skin itched from the mere thought of it.

She let her eyes slip closed as she inhaled a deep breath. Now that she thought about it, she remembered falling asleep without the blanket, but she had been covered when she’d woken up. Had Natsu tucked her in? She found it hard to believe he would. Even if he had, it had to be because he’d mistaken her as Igneel. Well, better that than being drawn to her face with charcoal. That she could imagine him doing to his sleeping friends.

Wind gushed against the College’s walls, howling as it seeped through the cracks on the stone. Waves broke around the rocks in the shallows far below the tower, playing a mesmerizing melody. Lucy didn’t remember hearing it yesterday – either the sea had been calm, or she’d been too tired to hear it. As it grew comfortably warm under the duvet, the wind lulled her into some tranquility.

Not letting herself surrender to sleep, she forced her eyes open. A smile twitched on her lips as she saw the bow resting on the weapon rack, unable to believe it was hers. Her gaze traveled across the room, and she still failed to believe it was all hers. A place in the College of Winterhold, the safe haven for mages in Skyrim.

A new home.

When she had fully calmed down, she got up and changed herself into the robes Mirajane had given her yesterday. The dim green fabric suited her well, and the brown belt on her waist emphasized her figure. She pulled on thick stockings to cover her bare legs and slipped her feet into knee-high boots. Lastly, she opened her hair and combed it quickly before tying it on a bun on the nape of her neck.

She looked down on herself, her smile widening so her cheeks hurt. The robes she got from Felrys made her look like a necromancer, but now she looked like a real apprentice. And she couldn’t be any happier than that.

“I’m ready to learn”, she whispered to herself. She stretched her fingers, opening her palms as she tested her magic. Her blood felt replenished, and as a flame appeared on her fingertip upon her will she knew she wouldn’t fail today.

Full of confidence, Lucy left the room and headed to get some breakfast on the upper floor. The halls were empty – either the other students hadn’t even woken up yet, or then they had already gone to the lessons. Lucy stopped by the window in the stairway and saw the sun lingering right above the horizon, deeming her first guess to be the most accurate.

While she walked to the dining room, she glanced at Natsu’s door. It was shut and locked, making her wonder if she should ask him to eat with her. But on second thought, he preferred to be alone after losing his nerves, and so Lucy decided not to bother him. He’d surely show up when he’d feel like it again, and Lucy didn’t mind exploring the College on her own for a change.

No-one was eating when Lucy arrived and sat down at an empty table. Slightly disappointed, she picked up a plate and filled it with bread, cheese, and a piece of apple pie. She’d hoped to chat with another apprentice and get to know the other students. Working as a merchant had molded her as a gifted talker – silence didn’t suit her.

But when Lucy poured herself a glass of water, someone broke the silence. 

“Hey”, said a man from the doorway. Lucy turned around to see Gray standing there, fully dressed to her relief. He walked in and filled a bowl with porridge, looking for the longbench Lucy sat at. “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Go ahead”, Lucy answered. She took a sip from the mug to hide the embarrassed smile on her lips. Trying to act casually right after seeing him fully exposed proved more challenging than she’d thought.

“Sorry ‘bout earlier”, Gray said. “Forgot to get dressed before leaving my room. Hope it didn’t scare you.”

Lucy smiled. How could anyone forget to get dressed here? Clattering teeth and numbing fingers would surely remind anyone about the lack of appropriate clothing. “It’s… it’s alright. Guess I won’t be scared so easily.”

He chuckled and eyed at Lucy’s plate, then picked a piece of pie for himself as well. Thinking about what to say, Lucy watched as he ate it with two mouthfuls.

“It’s good to see another Nord. Feared I’d be the only one”, Gray said, swallowing and pouring himself a drink. “Where are you from?”

Lucy had never thought of herself to be so easily recognized as a Nord, but perhaps she was. While Gray had the manners of one, Lucy had the outlooks. “Helgen”, she answered.

“Really? I lived a year in Riften, and it’s even a bit warmer than Helgen. Never felt like home in there. I missed the snow.”

For a second Lucy waited for him to pick up the dragon attack, but he didn’t. Lucy studied his sharp features, weathered cheeks, and a scar running down his jaw.  A soft bruise was forming in the corner of his eye. Natsu would most likely have a matching one. It would be out of order if he didn’t.

“Are you from Winterhold, then?” Lucy asked.

“No. Dawnstar”, he answered. “Grew up whipped by the sea wind. Maybe that’s why I ended up here.”

Lucy couldn’t resist a question that popped in her head. “Is that why you have trouble keeping clothes on?”

Gray snorted, taking a long gulp from his drink. It smelled of mead, but a man of his size wouldn’t get buzzed from one stein. “Knew you’d ask it at some point. Don’t worry, everyone does”, he started. “Most Nords have forgotten the true power of our blood. Our ancestors could withstand any weather, and our bodies are still the same. I’ve unlocked that power through years of training. Clothes? While they keep you warm and comfortable, they separate you from the cold. Become friends with it and it will never hurt you. Comfort makes you soft and weak.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, curious yet skeptical. If warmth made one weak, she had to be absolutely powerless. All her life, she had stayed in the reach of the hearth of her home, always sheltered from the cold. “Really? I haven’t even heard of that kind of practice. Where’d you learn it?”

“My adoptive mother taught me”, Gray told. “She’s from Skaal village of Solstheim but came to Skyrim decades ago. She was a scholar here in the College before she got sick.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed against her will, torn between curiosity and reticence. The way Gray spoke in present tense let Lucy know his adoptive mother was still alive. Though she wanted to know more about her sickness, she didn’t ask. She’d had enough of talking about sick or dead mothers.

“Oh, okay”, she replied. “So, you just go naked in a blizzard and you get stronger?”

“To put it shortly, yes. Exposure to the cold builds endurance. At this point, I can swim in the Sea of Ghosts and climb mountains barefoot, wearing nothing but shorts. That’s what every Nord could achieve if given just a chance.” 

The very thought of swimming in the frozen sea made Lucy tremble. But instead of finding that freakish, she respected him. She couldn’t even imagine herself dipping a toe into the frozen sea.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I admit, I prefer the hearth’s warmth over a blizzard”, Lucy said, smiling. “Your… practice seems to offend some off.”

“You mean Natsu?” Gray presumed. He grinned as Lucy nodded. “It’s the clashing elements. Ice and fire, you know? It has always been like that with him. My ‘stripping habit’, as he calls it, is just another reason for him to pick up a quarrel. The fault’s not entirely his. It isn’t like I like him too much either.”

“How’s that, may I ask?”

“It’s just difficult to come along with someone who has simply decided to hate your guts. I can’t even recall how it began. Now it’s just all about which one finds better insults and hits harder”, Gray answered. “Anyway, we shouldn’t waste time talking about our perpetual rivalry. What magic do you practice, Lucy?”

Lucy chuckled, wondering if Natsu would have a different explanation. Though Lucy didn’t know him too well, it felt odd he’d hold such a grudge for years without a good reason. The way Gray switched the subject so quickly added to her distrust, but Lucy didn’t want to pick sides. Except for flashing too much of himself, Gray seemed like a decent guy and a skilled mage. She would find out herself if that was true.

“I… I’d like to be a conjurer”, Lucy answered shyly. “But I’m not very good yet. I can summon a wolf though, and…”

The ice mage knit his brow. “And?”

“Nothing much, really. I can cast some flames Natsu taught me, but I’m a mere novice. I started a week ago.”

“He taught you magic?” Gray marveled, dark eyes widening. “I’m impressed you actually learned something.”

“Yes, some very basics while we were on our way here.”

Gray nodded slowly, doubt in his glare as he took a sip from his drink. He put the stein on the table, eating a few spoonfuls of porridge before speaking.

“Here’s one thing you should learn: it’s not good to focus on only one element as Natsu does”, Gray started, sounding sure of himself. “Sure, mastering fire makes your flames exceedingly strong, but it works as far as your opponents aren’t resistant to fire. Because Natsu doesn’t know many other spells than fire spells, he’s weak against Dark Elves, for example. He never won Igneel in a clash. There are all kinds of enemies in Skyrim, so it’s best to know all kinds of spells. That way you won’t find yourself in the undertow.”

“Makes sense”, Lucy agreed. She welcomed every bit of knowledge she’d get, even when it came from Natsu’s rival. “So you’re an ice wizard?”

“Yes. I focus on destruction and conjuration, but I also take a steel sword with me every time I venture past the College walls. It’s what my Nords parents taught me, to trust in steel instead of magic”, Gray told. He let out a silent snort. “Though, they’d be mortified to know I became a mage. Gladly the dead cannot share their unsolicited opinions.”

Lucy smiled slightly. “Mine, too.”

Gray cast her an enigmatic glance, furrowing his dark brows a bit. Though he spoke of his family, he didn’t do it openly, leaving gaps of history unfilled. But considering they had just met, Lucy understood it. She wouldn’t talk about the slaughter of Helgen to any stranger either, and gladly Gray asked no questions.

“But, though steel is a warrior’s burden, it’s sometimes useful. A matter of life and death almost. Some mages use shock spells, which sap your magic in an instant. Then you need something to fight with. If you run, you’re guaranteed to be shot in the back”, Gray said, his hands imitating drawing and releasing a bow. “Most mages use daggers because they’re small and light, but having a sword gives you an advantage against them. Never assume other mages are on your side. Most often they aren’t.”

Lucy only nodded, wondering how he’d react if she’d say she shot down a dragon with a conjured bow. Did he even know about the dragons’ return? She had mentioned Helgen, but he hadn’t commented. Either the word hadn’t reached every corner of Skyrim, or then he was plainly uninterested, focusing solely on his own conquest. Whatever it was.

It was a relief though, to find someone who didn’t talk about the dragons.

“You seem like a decent apprentice”, Gray said after a silence. He stood up and gathered his empty plates to his hand. “If you need some help with spells, I’m here to help. It’s good to have a fellow Nord around. I mean, Tolfdir’s also a Nord, but he’s… long in the tooth. Speaking of Tolfdir, he keeps the lesson today. Are you going?”

“Yeah. What was it about again?” Lucy answered. Mirajane had mentioned the lesson’s theme yesterday, but she had already forgotten it.

“Probably the same rambling about safety, how magic can and will destroy you unless you can control it”, Gray said, grinning. “Restoration, wards, and healing. He always starts with that. I actually promised Tolfdir I’d help with demonstrating the spells to new apprentices.”

Lucy smiled. While she’d hoped to learn something more exciting, she agreed that safety should always come first. “Sounds great. See you there!”

As Gray left, Lucy realized she had forgotten to eat her breakfast, and the apple pie had gone cold.

Lucy hurried across the snowy courtyard, still failing to understand how all this cold would make her stronger. If Nords had frost-resistant blood, she couldn’t feel it.

Already running a bit late, she didn’t stop to admire the College’s architecture. Everything looked different in daylight, but the tour could wait until after the lesson. It could possibly take the rest of the day to roam through the grounds.

Lucy pulled open the heavy door of the Hall of the Elements and stepped in, the shivering ceasing as warmth embraced her. The hall echoed as the door slammed shut behind her. Her cheeks flushed as the heads of the other students turned towards her, and she apologized under her breath, knowing they wouldn’t hear it.

Yesterday the gate to the hall had been closed, but now it was open. She walked in as slowly as she could, fearing she’d shatter the illusion if she’d be too swift. The ceiling of the hall was higher than any of what Lucy had seen before, and even the Palace of the Kings couldn’t rival with its beauty.

It was almost funny now that she had thought of Fort Amol being a fancy-looking castle.

“Welcome, welcome!” said an elderly man from the other side of the hall. Grey-bearded and clad in blue master-ranked robes, Lucy deemed him to be Tolfdir. “We were just beginning. Please, come and listen.”

Lucy smiled, following the man’s beckon. Tall, cloudy windows lined the walls. Gray was sitting on the bench at the edge of the hall, observing the new apprentices. The other one was a male Khajiit, a feline beast-like race that hailed from the faraway land of Elsweyr.

Lucy had only seen his kind in trading caravans outside Helgen and Whiterun, for they were not allowed in the cities. Father always said that most of the Khajiit turned to thievery and smuggling, and therefore couldn’t be trusted. ‘A few bad apples spoil the bunch.’ Even though Lucy didn’t want to adopt her father’s discriminating mindset, she couldn’t just cast away the cautiousness she felt as she reached them.

The other student was a Dark Elf woman, not appearing friendly either. She glared at Lucy from underneath her hood, and suddenly Lucy felt like an outsider. Ironically, those two felt like outsiders anywhere else in Skyrim, this place being the only one they’d be welcomed as they were.

Maybe one day she could call them her friends, but now her internalized distrust led her to another Nord. She seated next to Gray, the man greeting her with a nod.

“So, as I was saying, the first thing to understand is that magic is, by its very nature, volatile and dangerous”, Tolfdir continued, his voice echoing on the high walls. “Unless you can control it, it can and will destroy you.”

Gray chuckled and turned to Lucy. “As I said”, he grinned, and Lucy immediately realized what he meant.

“Sir, I think we understand that fairly well”, the Dark Elf stated. “We wouldn’t be here if we couldn’t control magic.”

The elderly Nord cast the woman a patient smile. “Of course, my dear. Of course. You all certainly possess some inherited magical ability. That much is not being questioned. What I’m talking about is true control, the mastery of magic. It takes years, if not decades, of practice and study.”

“Than what are we waiting for?” asked the Khajiit, his voice sly and urgent. “Let’s get started!”

“Please, please! This is exactly what I’m talking about. Eagerness must be tempered with caution, or else disaster is inevitable.”

“You have no idea what we’re capable of. Why not give us a chance to show you what we can do?”

Lucy hid a laugh in her sleeves. The novices seemed sure of themselves, almost to the point of arrogancy. Lucy was sure Natsu would wipe the floor with them if challenged in a real fight. Perhaps Gray, too. She was yet to see his magic in action, but he had a certain tone of expertise in his voice when he spoke about his skills.

Tolfdir pointed to Lucy next. “You’ve been quiet so far. What do you think we should do?”

Stunned, Lucy lost her words. “I… I’m not really sure what to think. Something practical, perhaps?”

The Khajiit glanced at her, agreeing with her idea. “Let’s just give it a chance. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“All right, I suppose we can try something practical…” Tolfdir sighed. He had most likely been a scholar for years and could sense the level of his apprentices, knowing what would be the best method of training for them. “In continuing with our theme of safety, we’ll start with wards. Wards are protective spells that block magic. I’ll teach you all a ward, and we'll see if you can successfully use it to block spells, alright?”

Lucy nodded, and Tolfdir turned to her again.

“Would you mind helping with the demonstration?” he asked, the question stunning her. She wanted to shake her head in refusal.

“I don’t know any ward spells”, Lucy answered, secretly hoping he would choose someone else. She was still afraid her magicka hadn’t been restored enough. Failing to cast a spell in front of everyone would be so disgraceful. But well, if that was the worst thing that could happen, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. The Khajiit had an idea. She had come here to learn.

“That’s alright. I can teach you a very basic ward, one that’s enough for the purposes of this lesson”, Toldfir said. Lucy nodded and stood up. “Concentrate your magicka as a protective shield in front of your body, as if nothing could get through it. Like this.”

Toldfir raised his hands to the level of his chest, and a blue, fluttering shield appeared from his palms. His features distorted through the transparent magic, like a screen of glass. Following his example, Lucy tried to do the same. And almost like Tolfdir had gifted his knowledge of the spell to her, Lucy succeed. She gasped as magic flowed through her fingers, forming a magical shield in front of her.

“Excellent work!” Tolfdir exclaimed happily. “Now, just stand there opposite me. I’ll cast a spell at you, and you block it with the ward. Here we go.”

Lucy didn’t have time to give a word about it, so she just hoped her ward would hold. It felt brittle and weak as if it would fall apart any moment. Toldfir formed a firebolt in his hand and threw it at her. Against all expectations, her ward held, dispelling the flames as they hit it. Gray applauded behind her, making her blush.

“Amazing. You learn fast. I think this is an excellent start”, Tolfdir praised. “I’d like you all to continue our practice with wards, please. Test your wards and offensive spells in pairs, but remember to make sure no-one gets hurt.”

Lucy glanced at the two apprentices who quickly formed a team without paying her a single word. She expected that to happen though. The distrust between races was often mutual, especially when beasts or elves faced men. They took a distance, withdrawing to the other end of the hall as they began training.

“I’ll train with you then, it seems”, Gray said as he rose up. It was fine with her. “Since you just learned how to use a ward, I’ll go easy on you for now. Not blasting a blizzard right ahead at you.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Gray smiled slightly, stepping back from Lucy until there was a fair distance in between them. “Alright, go ahead. Cast the ward spell and keep it up.”

As before, Lucy raised her hands and let the magic flow, molding it into a shield in front of her. It fluttered like a melting glass, clouding her vision and not letting her see the spell the ice mage cast. A loud whiz sounded in the hall before an ice spear struck Lucy’s ward, the impact sending her backward through the air.

Lucy shrieked as the ward dissolved. She managed to fix her balance, but could still feel the strength of that hit staggering her bones. Gray let out a laugh, causing Lucy to give her a murderous glance.

“That’s going easy for you?” Lucy asked, anger ringing in her voice.

“That was just an ice spike.”

“It’s way too strong for me.”

“If it was, you’d have an ice spike poking out of your chest. You did well. Now, again.”

“Wait, I –“

Lucy cast the ward again, right before the icicle hit her face. She lost balance again, fumbling back before falling to the stone floor. Gladly the ward worked as it was supposed to, leaving her unhurt.

“Hey! I wasn’t ready”, Lucy scoffed. Gray’s training method wasn’t exactly the softest, reminding her of a certain someone who’d taught her earlier. “Gods, you’re just like him.”

“Now it’s your turn. You said you knew the flames spell? Cast it at me. No worries, after fighting with Natsu for years, I can stand some grilling.”

Lucy pushed herself up from the floor. “You clash with magic, too? Instead of fists and words?”

“Yeah, sometimes, mostly in the courtyard or outside College’s ground. But after we wrecked a part of the Jarl’s longhouse and got locked up in the Chill for a week, we haven’t done that much. Fistfights are harmless compared to that.”

Even though she didn’t want to personally witness their arcane battle, the thought intrigued her. If such a clash could be organized safely, like a tournament, then it would be interesting to watch. But unless it was, it was guaranteed outsiders would also get hurt.

“The Chill? What’s that?” Lucy asked.

“Winterhold’s jail. It’s a cave on an island in the Sea of Ghosts, guarded by angry frost atronachs. It wasn’t an enjoyable stay. At least for him.”

Lucy smiled, wondering which had been more difficult to Natsu: the cold or Gray’s presence. Possibly the latter. “I’ll never commit a crime in Winterhold then…”

“Well, if you stick with Natsu, going to jail at some point is pretty inevitable”, Gray chuckled. Lucy couldn’t really argue against that. She just hoped it wouldn’t happen in Winterhold. “Anyway, let’s see what he taught you. Cast flames at me and I’ll repel them.”

Nervousness clasping her throat, she tried to lit up a sparkle on her fingertips. After casting the wards, her magicka moved freely again, and soon roaring fire shot from her hands. Struggling to keep it intact, she focused pouring the fiery magic on Gray, the flames turning into black smoke as they hit his shield.

“Good job”, Gray congratulated as her flames withered. “Honestly, I’m surprised to see how many talented apprentices we’ve got lately. It isn’t common for us to have three new novices here.”

Lucy glanced to the other side of the hall, firebolts flying through the air from the beast’s paws. “You mean the Khajiit and the Dark Elf?”

“Yes, J’zhargo and Brelyna. You should talk and train with them as well. They start from the same point as you, and you can learn a lot from each other.”

Lucy answered with a faint smile. “I hope so.”

In a silent agreement, they carried on the practice, their discussion of spells feeding Lucy’s curiosity to learn. With every turn, her wards got stronger, and in the end she barely staggered when Gray’s ice spike hit her shield. Success felt like honey on her self-esteem, wounded by yesterday’s inability to conjure anything.

But as the hour went by, she realized Natsu was missing out on her process. It wasn’t like he was obligated to spend time with her in the College ground or attend the same lessons as her, but they were a team. And while training with Gray was fun and challenging, it wasn’t the same thing.

She had been so petty this morning and just hoped Natsu wouldn’t hold a grudge. As her thoughts started spiraling away from the present moment, she found her magicka running dry. The constant casting of the ward spells left her drained, and she was more than glad when Tolfdir called it a day. Her concentration had met its limit.

“Attention please, apprentices”, Tolfdir announced at the end of the lesson. “You all seem very gifted to me, at least with a quick observation. I think perhaps we’d be ready to begin exploring magic through history. The College had undertaken a fascinating excavation in the ruins of Saarthal nearby. It’s an excellent learning opportunity. I suggest we train with wards and restoration spells today, and head to the ruins tomorrow.”

Lucy’s eyes began to sparkle. Exploring ancient ruins so soon? Tolfdir really seemed to believe in their skills.

“Sounds exciting”, Lucy said, turning to Gray. “Are you coming too?”

“Yes. I’ll look after the apprentices. The ruins are like labyrinths. It’s easy to get lost in them.”

Lucy nodded. From what she had heard from the customers of her store, Nordic ruins were as dangerous as they were precious. Sometimes adventures brought items from the barrows and burial mounds and sold them to her. She remembered holding the helmets of ancient warriors in her hands, wondering what it had been through.

“Great. I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then?” Lucy asked before the ice mage turned away. “And thanks for the training.”

“Sure”, Gray said, flashing a quick smile. “And hey, if you want to learn more spells, you should check out the Arcanaeum.”

On that Lucy couldn’t disagree.

‘It can’t get any worse than this.’

That consoling thought had pushed him through the miserable morning. Whatever would happen, he was absolutely sure it couldn’t get any worse. Waking up on Lucy’s floor and instantly getting into a brawl with Gray, well, that was quite a way to start a day.

After having their brawl cut out by Laxus, Natsu had retreated back to his room to cool down his head. A long nap and a filling breakfast made him feel well enough, giving him energy to figure out where Lucy had gone. Her door had been locked and she hadn’t answered to knocking. And definetely not wanting to relive the morning, Natsu had headed to the lecture hall in search of her.

He hadn’t even got to the courtyard when he bumped into Gray. The ice mage said the lesson had ended, and that Lucy would be in the library if he wanted to see her. Natsu hadn’t answered anything, just mumbled silent insults as he passed by.

“Come on, Happy”, Natsu said to the cat who stopped at the window and locked its gaze to a crow flying outside. “Time to figure out if Lucy still wants to kick our ass.”

The mage sighed as he climbed to the top of the stairs, pushing open the heavy door of the Arcanaeum. The scent of paper and old ink flooded into his lungs as he stepped in. While some found it warm and welcoming, it made him want to turn around and run. To put it shortly, he wasn’t fond of reading.

Happy strutted into the hall, vanishing behind the partition walls segregating the outer ring of the room from the central reading area. Natsu followed the cat, instantly stopping as he saw the blonde mage browsing through the tall bookcases, his short search coming to an end. She looked so small next to them – she would need a ladder to reach the top shelves.

Natsu looked at her for a moment. She was wearing green College robes, the color matching well with her fair hair and brown eyes. As if a permanent smile had stuck on her lips, she held a book in her hands, making Natsu wonder what she had found. She seemed so captivated, astonished by the books that he almost felt bad for missing her reaction when she first entered the Arcanaeum.

“Gray told me I’d find you here”, Natsu greeted from a distance, breaking the silence. She flinched, almost dropping a book as she turned her head towards him. Her smile vanished as she blinked rapidly to get used to the sight of him. "How'd the lesson go?"

“Well, we…” Lucy started, her voice fading to her usual stutter. “We practiced with wards. Where were you?”

Happy raced behind the shelves, meowing at Lucy as he passed her by. The cat ran to Natsu, the mage crouching to pick him up into his arms. Even for a ghostly cat, Happy never failed to bring him comfort.

“Catching up some missed rest”, Natsu said, petting Happy’s head.

Lucy chuckled. “Didn’t sleep well on my floor?”

“Not really.”

Being there without Igneel was hard, a lot harder than he had even imagined. Hard enough to bring him dreams he hadn’t seen in years. Or if he had, he never remembered them. He had lost both nightmares and pleasant dreams when he fell on his head on the stairs of Labyrinthian. Last night something had been stronger and more important than that damage.

No matter what Lucy believed, Natsu hadn’t lied to her. In his dream, Igneel wanted to tell him something, but when Natsu went to hear him out, he found him sleeping. He hadn’t thought Igneel was dead, just tightly asleep. Natsu had decided to lay down on the rug as he had done many times before, and wait for Igneel to wake up.

And he never did, the important thing fading into the void with his dream.

“Toldfir said we’d explore some Nordic ruins tomorrow, to learn about the magic of the ancient civilization”, she said, sneakily switching the subject. Well, at least she wasn’t mad anymore. “Are you coming?”

Natsu glanced to the library’s counter to find Levy wasn’t there. This was the time she usually went to eat lunch, leaving the Arcanaeum unguarded for half an hour. If some damage happened to the books during that time, she’d kill the first person who’d step out of the library.

But as they were alone, Natsu could talk about another important thing.

“Lucy”, Natsu started. He wasn’t sure which words to use, except that he needed to be careful. He couldn’t spill any information which could be used against them. “You know we can’t stay here for long. We were just supposed to turn here and keep going. Well, that’s why I came looking for you. To talk about this.”

While he had eaten breakfast, he had used all of his brains to figure out what to do next. They were supposed to go to the monastery to answer the Greybeard’s calling, but how? How could they do such a journey?

Lucy frowned, her disappointment tangible. “But I want to learn –“

“They didn’t call you for nothing. We should get there as fast as we can. Speaking of that, how are we planning to travel? I hate to say this, but a carriage would be the quickest method… We can’t train in a wagon though…”

“But the excavation seems so interesting. It’s important to me, to learn magic so I can fight the –“

Damn dragons.

“Lucy! You’re speaking too much. Remember? Remember what Erza told you, to shut up about it?” Natsu snapped, then lowering his voice. “Of what you are. You almost slipped that yesterday. We just can’t let anyone know. Not even here.”

Lucy fell silent for a moment. To Natsu, it seemed like she didn’t really understand what was going on around her. He couldn’t even imagine the weight of her responsibility, of her fate, but she had to stay strong. No-one else needed to know about her being the Dragonborn. It was a risk they couldn’t afford to take.

The world couldn’t afford her to slip away.

“I can teach you on the way. Just take some spell tomes with you and I’ll help with them. We should leave tomorrow. Tomorrow morning. We would make it halfway to Windhelm in one day. There’s a mine where I always spent the first night when I –“

“You’re planning?” Lucy asked, furrowing her brows. “Are you… are you sick or something?”

“What?”

“It doesn’t suit you. To make a plan. I… I didn’t think you could do it.”

“You think I’m stupid or something?”

“No, I –“

“I can be smart when I need to”, Natsu said with a mischievous grin. “There’s no point in staying here studying some damn wards when we got more important things to do.”

“It’s my call when we go there. I want to stay here, for a few more days. Besides, we both need rest. It’s a long way up to the High Hrothgar. I’m sure the Greybeards can wait. They must be patient.”

Before Natsu could say anything, he heard steps from the entrance hall. They turned their heads towards the noise, and Natsu felt as if being struck with a shovel when he saw the person standing there.

“High Hrothgar?” asked Gray, eyes as wide as the moons. “Why’d you go to High Hrothgar, Lucy?”

‘Well, now it can’t get any worse than this.’

Photos! Here's my Skyrim Lucy :)

Lucy's room, Hall of Attainment (except that the rooms have doors in this fic), Hall of the Elements and Arcanaeum.

Chapter Text

Almost a minute passed in a silence so thick and awkward one could cut it with a knife – and the longer Natsu stared at the confused ice mage, the more he wanted to cut him instead.

Had the bastard followed him? And more importantly, how much had he heard? Everything? Or just the mention of High Hrothgar? The more Natsu thought about it, the more anxious he got, an ill feeling churning inside of his stomach. Could they still speak their way out of it, or would he have to beat the slipped secret out of Gray’s memory?

Natsu was already squeezing his fingers into fists when Lucy finally spoke, ridding him of the responsibility to deal with the situation. Happy sensed his discomfort and began to squirm in his hold, so Natsu let him go. The cat ran straight through the stone walls, disappearing into the structures of the tower, away from their presence.

“Well, I…” Lucy started and glanced at Natsu, frowning as if she perceived his intentions to use violence. Natsu tried to force his knuckles to relax as Lucy turned back to Gray. “I… I can’t go to Saarthal tomorrow. We… We have some other business. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. I thought I’d have enough time…”

Gray’s dark brows furrowed and raised at the same time. The skepticism was clear as a day on his face. “Business with the Greybeards?”

Right then Natsu didn’t want to know why Gray was there – he just wanted him gone. A reddish bruise adorned the corner of his narrow eye, and Natsu felt like giving him another one. From a blunt pain on his cheek he knew he had a matching mark forming, but he wouldn’t mind getting more as long as he’d get Gray out of sight. 

“Still none of yours –“

“Yes”, Lucy said loud enough to interrupt Natsu’s pissed off hiss. She looked at him again as if trying to transfer her thoughts through her gaze. Something in her eyes flickered when an idea flashed in her mind. “When we were at Ivarstead, we met a man who regularly makes supply runs to the monastery. However, his legs aren’t what they used to be, and so he asked if we’d help him out.”

Natsu fought away a frown. He faintly remembered overhearing a discussion between two men the morning they left Ivarstead. Perhaps Lucy had heard it too and used that as the root of her explanation.

“Klimmek was his name”, Natsu told to support her, feeling like a total idiot. They were being way too obvious. If Gray would believe it, he’d be the biggest fool in the world.

Lucy gave him a sneaky nod. “I needed money, and he promised to pay us well. I agreed but said we’d have to visit the College first. Natsu had to report Igneel’s death as soon as possible. Klimmek said it’s fine with him because he only goes there once a month. He said that if we wouldn’t appear in two weeks he’d go on his own.”

“Really?” Gray questioned, his doubt persistent. “Why’d you take such a quest, not knowing how hard it is to climb there? It’s called the Seven Thousand Steps, and not for nothing. Each year the mountain claims the lives of those who attempt to reach the top. The path is treacherous.”

Natsu cocked his head and grinned. “I’ve done worse quests.”

“That I surely believe”, Gray grunted and turned to Lucy. “But her? She just said she doesn’t stand the cold, and cold’s how it gets up there. If you’re so desperate for money there are easier jobs available. Go to any tavern or inn and they’d point you to… I don’t know, clear out some bandit lair or something. That pays surprisingly well.”

Lucy shook her head, signing her refusal. “I don’t want to do any violent jobs. I just wanted to help that old man out”, she answered with a firm tone in her voice. “And it’s also because… my mother, she worshipped Kynareth, and Throat of the World is her sacred mountain. She always wanted to make the pilgrimage to the monastery but never had a chance. Merchants are chained to their shops, you know.”

The little truth Lucy tried to sprinkle into her lie didn’t make it any easier for the ice mage to swallow. Even Natsu couldn’t tell if she spoke true about her mother. She hadn’t mentioned the religious views of her parents before, but it would make sense… kind of.

Natsu’s parents had also worshipped Kynareth, for living in Skyrim made his family adapt to the Nordic pantheon. They believed that the Throat of the World was the place where men were created by Kynareth. Thus climbing the Seven Thousand Steps held a spiritual significance for many Nords, and if Lucy’s mother was one of them, it would be believable.

Gray pondered for a moment, sparking hope in Natsu’s mind. Now that he had calmed down a bit, he wasn’t up to another fistfight with the ice mage yet. Though he was wearing clothes now, the humiliation of their brief morning brawl was still strong.

“So –“

“My mother died in the dragon attack”, Lucy interrupted the ice mage, speaking quietly, pain echoing in her words. She paused before lifting her gaze from the floor, raising her voice at the same. “She never got to make the pilgrimage, and I want to do it for her sake. That’s why I took the job, that’s why I’m going there, and that’s final.”

Something in Gray’s eyes softened as if finally filled with understanding. “So you were there.”

“I was. So was him”, Lucy said. “And this conversation ends now.”

Gray looked at them both, falling into silence. He was in a visible unease, like a swarm of questions dancing on his tongue aching to get out, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. Gladly.

“Anyway”, he sighed then. “I meant no interrupting or anything, whatever it is you’ve got going on. I came here for another reason, and it was to give you this book, Lucy. It’s a spell called Frostbite. Easy for novices, if you’d like to learn it.”

Only then Natsu noticed the book Gray had been holding the whole time. The ice mage reached out his arms as he gave it to Lucy. Bothered by the awkwardness of the whole situation, Lucy received it with a faint, forced smile and put it on top of the other book she was carrying.

“Thanks”, she said. “I appreciate it.”

Knitting his brows, Natsu took a small step back. He found it strange that Gray was giving gifts to newcomers. Though, there hadn’t been Nord novices in years, so maybe it was just some Nordic custom Natsu wasn’t even aware of. Either way, it was very unsettling to him.

“And if you need any advice for your journey, just ask”, Gray told, staring down and scratching his neck. “It’s very honourable. I’m sure your mother would be proud of you. I’ve planned on doing the pilgrimage myself one day...”

Natsu couldn’t even let Gray finish his sentence – it was enough to make his blood boil. “Don’t even think about it”, he snapped at the ice mage, hoping he could punch him with his glare only.

“What?”

Natsu was sure what Gray meant by that. First, giving gifts to Lucy, then announcing he’d one day want to climb that mountain too? He lowkey wanted to come with her. That was just a sneaky way of saying it.

Natsu couldn’t even imagine ever being able to stand the ice mage’s presence any longer than necessary, so there was absolutely no way to take him as a part of their team. Even if his knowledge would be useful.

“Asking if you could come too”, Natsu answered, annoyed by how Gray pretended to be more stupid than he was. “I’ve heard about your little trips to Azura’s shrine wearing nothing but… nothing! You've harassed her enough.”

Gray let his sigh twist into a grin. “Seriously, man, what’s wrong with you today? I’m just trying to be nice to a fellow apprentice.” He eyed at Lucy to further clarify who he meant. “That’s all.”

Natsu swallowed a brutal retort – sometimes silence was the quickest way to get out of trouble, even though it took a lot of effort to stay silent. Gray took a step closer to the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. It was a rare thing to see him doing.

“Well, I…” Lucy stuttered as the ice mage went to the stairway. “Thank you… for the spell.”

Gray waved his hand before closing the door. His presence lingered in the hall for a while, binding them to a moment of silence until his steps faded away.

“We totally screwed that up”, Natsu sighed when he was sure Gray was gone. He collapsed on a chair and leaned his elbows to the table. “Like really really screwed up.”

Lucy blinked, her focus locked on the spell tome in her hands. “I think he believed me.”

“If he did, he’s as stupid as a goat. Oh, wait… he actually is.”

“I’d really like to know what made you hate him so much”, she asked. “I just don’t get it. He seems decent to me.”

Natsu rolled his eyes, aware of Gray’s reasons for acting decent. The ice mage was only nice when he wanted something, and Natsu knew for sure what he wanted this time. If it had been any other novice, Gray would’ve given them frozen pigshit and called it a powerful alchemy ingredient.

It wasn’t like Natsu had fallen into that kind of a prank or anything.

“Only seems”, he said, holding back every insult he had in mind for the ice mage. Even though he hated that bastard from the bottom of his heart, he didn’t want to talk shit behind his back. Natsu wanted to do that straight to his face. “Anyway… About what we were talking about earlier, we should finish that later. The walls have goddamn ears.”

Lucy raised her nose from the spell tome to give him a nod. “Agree”, she said, burying her face into the book again.

Natsu fell quiet for a moment and let his head fell to the table. The wood felt cool against his forehead, offering a pleasant place for calming the fuck down. Natsu closed his eyes and tried to cast away the anxiety ruminating inside of him. His thoughts were running in circles, the worry about how much the ice mage had heard was driving him crazy.

If there was anything good about the situation, Gray, though he was annoying and stupid, wasn’t a gossip. Whatever he had just figured out, he would keep it to himself. But if he’d use it against them when given a chance, it was yet to see. Natsu could rest knowing their travel plans would be relatively safe with the ice mage.

Natsu raised his head and sighed. He had, in fact, many ideas for their journey. Lucy probably didn’t mean it when she said planning didn’t suit him – she had just needed to repay for finding him on her floor this morning. However, he could share his thoughts later. What mattered now was to change her mind about going to the excavation site tomorrow. His plan would be useless if Lucy intended to stay behind. But, considering she had already cancelled the Saarthal trip, she had hopefully realized they couldn't afford to stay here now. 

After browsing through the spell tome, Lucy put it on the table and continued reading the book she had originally picked. Natsu glanced at the grey-covered spell, Frostbite, and tried to recall if he had ever used it. Once maybe, heavily forced. Ice simply wasn’t his element, but it would be great if Lucy’d make an effort to learn it as well. That much acknowledgement Natsu could give to Gray, but not a single crumb more.

“What are you reading?” Natsu asked, his hand he leaned to partly muffling his voice.

Lucy turned to him and placed her finger on the spot she’d stopped. “Night of Tears. This details the complete history of the Nedes, how they came to Skyrim from Atmora, and constructed the city of Saarthal”, Lucy explained. “They allied with the Snow Elves, but fearing the Nedes would settle into all of Skyrim, the elves betrayed them. They sent a legion of their troops into Saarthal and slaughtered every last man, woman and child in the city… or so they thought.”

Natsu didn’t know how long she’d been reading that book before he arrived at the Arcanaeum, but it seemed she already knew a lot. A lot more than he ever would. Despite his lack of interest in history, he decided to listen. It would grant him the distraction he needed, putting an end to his nervousness. The discussion about their journey could wait.

“The Nedics were Nord ancestors?” Natsu asked. “I’ve slept on some classes…”

“Yes”, Lucy answered and turned many pages, searching a particular part of the book. She found it near the end. “Ysgamor, a legendary hero, and his sons survived that night and fled back to their homeland. There they gathered an army known as the Five Hundred Companions to avenge the fallen. They returned and retook Saarthal, then waged a genocidal war against the Snow Elves and other Mer alike.”

Lucy paused and closed the book. “So, that’s pretty much how men populated this continent. Through blood and fear.”

Natsu nodded slowly, trying to pretend he understood half of what she’d just told. He rubbed his forehead and looked at Lucy, the amusement on her face unhidden. “And that’s why you Nords don’t like elves?”

If not for his slightly pointed ears, he would forget he had a remnant of elven blood. Bretons were sometimes termed as a mongrel race due to their mixed heritage, but Natsu had remained unbothered by that. He had always thought of himself and others as mere humans, nothing less or more. Men, Mer and beasts were all the same to him. He judged individuals, not their races.

“Well, for the most of my life, my only experience with them was the Thalmor arranging executions at my front yard”, Lucy answered. “The prejudice flows both ways.”

Natsu smiled shortly, finding it funny – they had met due to one of those executions, after all. Lucy placed ‘Night of Tears’ on top of the spell tome and headed back to the shelves with an insatiable thirst for knowledge. The brief discussion sparked thoughts in Natsu’s mind, ones he’d gladly talk more about, but he decided not to bother her for now. He wasn’t sure if Lucy would appreciate his point of view anyway.

To him, it seemed that Nords thought of themselves and all their fathers and forefathers and mothers and foremothers as one unity. The pains of their ancestors were their pains as well – and their enemies too.

Even Lucy, despite being as kind as she was, owned the collective mindset of an age-old hatred. Natsu hoped she could one day understand that most elves were innocent of the crimes of their predecessors, and didn’t deserve to be hated for that. At least she wasn’t like Gray, who despised everyone who wasn’t a Nord.

However, compared to that, Natsu felt almost rootless. He couldn’t recall the deeds of his ancestors, not even their names. All he knew was that his grandparents had come to Skyrim from High Rock around the time Winterhold collapsed into the sea. The only history he had was a small farmhouse in the forest, and his only enemies were the spiders of the nearby marshlands. Well, Gray too, but he didn’t count as a family fiend.

But not once had he considered digging deeper into his bloodline. It simply didn’t matter to him. He had his own life to live, his own path to walk, and he didn’t want the shadows of those who had already passed to guide him into directions he wasn’t supposed to go.

The sound of an opening door broke the trail of Natsu’s thoughts, followed by gentle steps of someone small. Levy the Librarian returned from her lunch. The blue-haired woman dressed in a yellow tunic walked in and paid them both a friendly nod.

“Good day”, Levy greeted and stopped close to Lucy, who had collected another pile of books into her arms. Even Lucy looked tall compared to her – after Makarov, Levy was the shortest member of the College, and she didn’t like when people made fun of it. “Have you found what you came looking for, or is there anything I can help you with?”

Lucy held a small silence. “Yes”, she said, then smiled. “But I haven’t been here for long, and I was still trying to find some spell tomes.”

Natsu realized he hadn’t told Lucy the customs of the Arcanaeum. Every book on the shelves could be borrowed, but not bought. Spells, in the other hand, had to be purchased. The College had the largest collection of available spell tomes in all of Skyrim, and the prices were cheap for apprentices compared to what they’d be when bought from regular court wizards. Those prices were robbery.

Levy also sold robes, enchanted items, staffs, soul gems and other useful things for a mage. Most teachers used to sell them, but for a few years, they had outsourced the selling to Levy. Everything was at one place, making it easier for apprentices to get what they needed.

Levy gazed at her for a moment, her sharp eyes analyzing the blonde apprentice. “I haven’t seen you before. You’re one of the novices?” Lucy nodded, and so the librarian continued. “Then welcome to the College. I can show you around the Arcanaeum if you’d like. I trust your friend here won’t be much of help when it comes to books…”

Natsu was half expecting her to joke about his widely-known attitude towards reading. Unlike his brother, he didn’t have his nose buried in books. Zeref had practically lived in the Arcanaeum. But Levy had only been the librarian for about four years, and was one of the few who hadn’t known Zeref, which was a relief.

Natsu didn’t want to be constantly reminded about how his brother was so much smarter, stronger, braver, whatever more than he was, or would ever be.

“You’re never wrong, Levy”, Natsu said and turned back to Lucy. “I’ll hang around meanwhile.”

Lucy nodded and then disappeared behind the shelves with the librarian, leaving Natsu wondering since when had he hung around in a damn library.

Chatter filled the hall as Lucy and Levy conversed, and if instant friends existed, it was those two. They talked all about magic, spells, and when they switched into legends and stories Natsu had already fallen off the wagon. Of course, he didn’t mean to pry on them, but Lucy spoke surprisingly loud when she got excited.

To keep himself from boring to death, Natsu picked a random book from the closest shelf. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d read for his entertainment he would’ve laughed at their face. Burning a pile of books would’ve been more like his kind of fun, but Levy would tear his head off if he’d do so.

Soon after Levy had arrived, Happy had returned from his little trip. With a stomach full of mice he slept on Natsu’s lap, offering him a warm fur to twiddle while he read. As he had assumed, there wasn’t much entertainment among the pages. ‘Alduin is Real’ was the book’s name, and its spelling and grammar were even worse than his. If he understood right, the writer tried to deny the false notion of Akatosh and Alduin being the same thing.

‘Now I hope you understand the problim. Akatosh is good. Everyone, from Nord to Imperial noes that. But Alduin? He ent good! He's the oposit of good! That Alduin is evil thrue and thrue. So you see, Akatosh and Alduin cant be one and the seim.’

Natsu chuckled at himself, then grew suddenly serious. Alduin? Where had he heard it before? Had Lucy mentioned it?

It might had been that. Brows knitting together, he tried to make sense of the gibberish. Lucy and Erza had discussed about some end-time prophecy, something about the appearance of the World-Eater and the Last Dragonborn. Lucy had even pondered if he’d be the Dragonborn, which Natsu had shoved aside as a silly joke. Ironic to think about it now.

But something about the name Alduin bothered him. A blurry memory of it lured somewhere in the back of his mind, as if said in a voice born of shadow and fear.

‘Akatosh is some kind of spirit dragon I think, wen he bothers to be a dragon at all (and not a god livin in sum kind of god plac like Obliviun). But Alduin is a real dragon, with flesh and teeth and a mean streak longer than the White River. And there was a time when Alduin tried to rool over all of Skyrim with his other dragons. In the end, it took sum mitey strong heroes to finally kill Alduin and be dun with his holy sorry story. So I got to ask - does that sound like Akatosh to you? No, friend. No it does not.’

It wasn’t that he didn’t like reading. He enjoyed stories, yes, but only if someone else read them to him. Like Zeref often did when they were kids. Zeref had tried to teach him to read and write, but his job was left unfinished when he left home. It had been Father who eventually managed to sink the alphabet into his son’s rock-hard head, but the process had needed some violence to complete.

When he read, the words kept jumping one each other and the lines switched places, making his eyes and head hurt. He had learned most of his spells through hands-on practice instead of following the written instructions. He liked to think it gave his spells a unique touch.

‘And so I, Thromgar Iron-Head do firmly say, with the utmost connvicshun, that Alduin is real, and he ent Akatosh!’

Natsu put the book down as he finished the last page, glad it was finally over. He glanced around and glimpsed a green dot among the shelves on the other side of the hall, knowing it was Lucy in her new robes.

A pile of books kept growing on a shelf made of her arms. She would soon need a milkwagon to move them to her quarters. Not to even talk about how many books she intended to take with her to their journey. He’d have to convince her to only take the spell tomes with her – if he’d succeed to convince her to leave the Arcanaeum first.

Natsu leaned his chin to his arms, letting out a sigh. Levy walked across the hall, briefly stopping next to him. He turned his eyes to the woman. Light danced on her sky-blue hair and the orange ribbons framing her round face. Originally a scholar from Cyrodiil, she was young but exceedingly talented for her age.

It had been said that those with azure hair were descendants of an ancient priest who made a covenant with Kynareth. The power of that covenant passed down to her offspring, and eventually took many forms of different blessings. Levy’s was to read faster than anyone, and she absorbed knowledge like a sponge. She was like a living archive herself.

“Hey”, she said softly and sat down on the chair next to him. “Sorry for your loss.”

Natsu was growing tired of hearing that, but he gave her a nonchalant smile. Happy woke up to her voice, meowed a bit and then fell asleep again as Natsu petted his back.

“Our loss”, he corrected. “He was a brother to us all.”

A moment of silence passed. Levy hadn’t been close with Igneel, but she was an empathic one, even though she preferred not to show it. She didn’t give more condolences than that, didn’t try to touch him or anything, which was good enough. The hug from Mirajane yesterday had only made him so much sadder.

“It seems like our new apprentice is having a good impact on you”, Levy said then with a strange smirk on her lips.

Natsu glanced at her with his brows furrowing. “It isn’t like she taught me to read or anything.”

“You’re trying to impress her, then?”

“What? No”, he said, looking down and shaking his head. “Just spending time.”

Levy smiled and rose as Lucy approached them. “Well, a mage is only as good as he knows. It’s good you’re finally understanding that.”

The Librarian walked to the counter with Lucy, who lowered her books to the desk. She glanced over her shoulder while Levy made her notes, as if she was apologizing for taking so long.

When Levy was done, she slid the pile of books to Lucy. Then she walked to the locked bookcases behind her, searched for a while and returned with three other tomes. “Here are the spells I mentioned”, she explained, adding them to the stack. “Clairvoyance, Fast Healing and Sparks. I think they’d be the most useful to you now. Consider them as a joining gift.”

All novices got three free spells from Levy. The spells she gave varied, but this time she’d made good work on figuring out the spells Lucy would need the most. Natsu didn’t know everything they had talked about, but perhaps Lucy had mentioned they’d go on a journey soon.

Clairvoyance was an Illusion spell that showed the path to the caster’s next destination. Natsu couldn’t cast it himself, but Igneel sometimes used it when they got lost in a fog. Fast Healing would most likely come in handy too, but Sparks? Natsu just hoped Lucy wouldn’t use it on him. That spell stung.

“Really? Thanks!” Lucy answered with a wide smile. “I can’t wait to master all of them.”

Levy blinked at her. “That’s the right attitude.”

Lucy gathered the books into her arms again and carried them to Natsu. She leaned her chin on the stack to support it and keep it from falling. For a moment he wondered how could she carry so many books at once, but then realized that she probably carried all kinds of heavy loads as a merchant.

“What were you reading?” Lucy asked as she halted, eyeing at the tome on the table. Natsu turned it around so she could see the title.

“Something about the dragons”, he answered.

Pinching her brows, Lucy stole the book from his hands and placed it atop of the others. “Is it okay if I take this too?” she hollered to Levy, who answered with a nod. She didn’t even mind signing that. Judging from the amount of dust it had gathered, no one had read it in years.

“So, were we supposed to finish the tour we skipped yesterday?” Lucy asked, but continued before Natsu said anything. “Well, I’ve already seen the Hall of the Elements, this library, our living tower… What’s left? Some secret dungeons? The roof? Show me around! But oh, wait, let’s drop these books into my room first…”

Natsu chuckled. Lucy’s magic had truly replenished since last night, the girl so full of energy that he envied her. “I can carry them”, he said as he stood up, dropping the ghost cat to the ground.

Lucy cast him a quick smile. “I don’t need a servant. I got them, just open the doors for me, would you? Besides, your arm still needs to rest.”

If Lucy hadn’t reminded him, he would’ve already forgotten his wound. The spells and potions of Windhelm’s court wizard had truly done their trick. A few more days and then his arm would be almost as good as it was, provide that he wouldn’t brawl with Gray again.

“As you say”, Natsu answered with a grin. “Anyway, let’s get outta here. No offence, Levy, of course.”

As they passed by the windows of the entry, the long shadows and orange light let them know the sun was already setting. The days were short up north. Gladly, there wasn’t much left to tour about, except for the Hall of Countenance. Lucy had once mentioned her desire to learn alchemy and enchanting too, and the quarters for those arcane arts were located there.

Natsu opened the door for Lucy, letting her and Happy disappear into the stairway. “You’d like to see the alchemist’s quarters?”

Chapter Text

A persistent smile stuck on Lucy’s lips as she carried the books to her quarters. Natsu found it funny and a bit strange at the same time how anyone could get so happy about reading. To him, it had always felt like a punishment of sort.

Because the alchemist’s quarters were colder than the other rooms, Natsu went to put on his cloak as they arrived at the Hall of Attainment, and advised Lucy to do the same. He wasn’t sure if she heard. She just nodded and kept humming some faint melody, searching for the key to her room from her pockets while Natsu left upstairs.

After dressing up, Natsu waited in the hallway with Happy while Lucy organised the books in her room. The door was left open, but he didn’t feel like interfering with her systemized ritual of placing the tomes on the shelf. She had most likely done that a lot on her job, but Natsu still didn’t see any point in categorizing them by name, genre, author and even a goddamn colour. She had just a dozen books and it took her long enough for Natsu to open a bottle of spiced mead.

“I bet she’s reading them all now”, Natsu said to the cat by his side, taking a sip of the drink. It tasted of cinnamon and cloves. “There’s no other way it’s taking her so long.”

Lucy was quick to answer. “I heard that!” she cried out, and Natsu heard a book closing. “I… I was having a snack. I was so excited I forgot to eat lunch, but I’m coming in a moment! Just a tiny little moment!”

Soon she returned to the hall dressed in a black, warm cloak, with an apothecary’s satchel hanging on her waist. Natsu chuckled when he saw an apple in her hand – she had totally been reading. Lucy gestured at Natsu to sign she was ready now, and so he left his half-finished mead bottle on the railing and followed her to the door.

“I really hope we won’t blow up the lab this time”, Lucy said, suddenly breaking the silence as they crossed the courtyard. Natsu glanced at her and smiled when Happy swept her legs with his tail. The cat seemed to like her.

“The one at the shack was in a dire need of some maintenance. The labs shouldn’t explode like that”, Natsu said. “But it was fun though.”

By the rule, the alchemy lab and the enchanting table were free of use as long as no accident happened, but such rules were easily and often bent. Accidents were bound to happen on the College grounds. That’s why they were located in the Hall of Countenance, so experienced wizards would stop a catastrophe before it would spread, preferably prevent it from occurring in the first place.

“I brought some ingredients I collected, and some I found in Igneel’s room. Mirajane let me keep some of them”, she told and took a bite from the apple, chewing it before continuing. “Would healing potions be useful? Or those which help to restore magicka?”

“Depends on what you’ve got.”

Lucy opened the door of the tower, pushing it far back that Natsu could step in after her before it closed. The atmosphere in the Hall of Countenance was so different from the Hall of Attainment. Strict and serious – as if their every movement was monitored by the eyes of the scholars and masters. Perhaps Natsu just imagined it.

“Mountain flowers, dragon’s tongues, lavender…” Lucy listed as she went through her satchel. “Some spider eggs, creep cluster, wheat and white mushrooms.”

Natsu chuckled. “Sounds like a poison recipe.”

They headed upstairs, through the silent halls. Natsu hadn’t been there often, and almost felt like an intruder. If his alchemy skills were rusty, his enchanting was even worse. Igneel had always done it for them if they ever needed potions or something enchanted, so maybe it was about time to learn it himself.

When Natsu walked past his brother’s locked room, a strange cold grasp caught his throat. It was one of the reasons why he didn’t like to visit this tower too often. Happy sprung to the door and ran straight through it, disappearing into the realm no one else had entered in six years.

It had been so long since Natsu had last seen his brother. Would he still look the same if he’d one day return? Would he still wear the same black robes? Would he still have the same, stupid haircut? A lone strand of his dark hair stood atop of his head like an antenna, denying all the laws of nature.

Natsu chuckled at the thought. He had been so young when Zeref left, and even when his face had begun to shroud in mist, the detail of his hair stayed clear in Natsu’s memory.

“Your brother lived there?” Lucy asked, noticing where the blue cat had gone. Natsu replied with a nod, and she fell silent for a moment, stopping in front of the door. “Have you ever thought about breaking in? I’m sure the lock can be picked. Every lock in the world can.”

Natsu shrugged, a chill filling his heart. “I don’t want to.”

Natsu had heard from the other members of the College that his brother had shared his quarters with Mavis, a Breton sorceress. They had been inseparable since their very first meeting, often called ‘lovebirds’ among the other students.

His parents had been rather strict, not allowing their sons to assess any courtship until they’d be of age. Zeref clearly hadn’t given any shit about that, leaving his parents in a perfect unawareness of their son’s premarital acts. When parents denied something, the children did it anyway, just behind their backs. And a College so far from home was the perfect place for it. The first time Zeref mentioned Mavis in the letters he sent home was only when they got engaged.

A short smile appeared on Natsu’s face as he remembered the day that letter arrived. Mother had told his brother was about to get married, and he had just said ‘yuck’ and continued whatever he’d been doing. He had been eleven or twelve. Such a concept as marriage didn’t make any sense to him back then, and it still really didn’t. Like getting an arrow in the knee, it was a life sentence Natsu didn’t ever want to serve.

However, Mother had been so excited about it. Her eccentric son had finally found a woman, and the whole family could be reunited at their wedding after so many years of being apart. Mother had got very ahead of herself, even started knitting tiny baby socks for her future grandchildren. She had been terrible at it, but Natsu had never seen her so happy.

The wedding was supposed to be held around the next harvest at the Temple of Mara in Riften. The only thing Natsu had been excited about was the journey. He’d never been so far from home, and he wanted to see the Thieves Guild which resided in the town – even when Father said they weren’t real. 

But then, when the summer had just begun, another letter arrived. There would be no wedding. Mavis had died.

A dwemer ruin had claimed her life – Zeref never specified how exactly she died, but Natsu had a feeling it was dwarven centurion which killed her. Natsu had seen one of those once, and Igneel had told him to run. It had been an enormous mechanic guardian, very strong, and very deadly. Even Zeref couldn’t defend her against that. A machine had a machine’s will, and no magic could ever bend it.

That letter was the last thing they heard about Zeref. When Natsu came to the College after him, his colleagues said that he returned without Mavis, mumbled about what happened, and then secluded into his quarters. The next day he locked the door forever and he left without saying goodbyes.

And never came back.

“He could’ve left behind some clues about where he went, or –“

“It was his place”, Natsu interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “If he would’ve wanted someone to enter, he would’ve left the door open.”

Now, Natsu found it strange how passionately he had wanted to find out what happened to Zeref – he had thought it to be something epic, larger than life itself, when in reality it had been painfully simple. There had been nothing to find out. All the facts had been laid up in front of his eyes, but he had been too young to see, too naïve to understand.

Even until the last few years, Natsu had kept his ears and eyes open for clues about his brother’s whereabouts. While travelling around the country with Igneel, he had always looked for signs and asked innkeepers if they’d seen a young, eccentric, raven-haired man around. Some rumours they had, but not a single one of them had led anywhere. And eventually, his spark for finding Zeref had faded, and he gave up on his search.

Perhaps Zeref didn’t even want to be found.

Happy came back with a melancholic meow. As Lucy stared at the door in silence, Natsu caught the cat into his arms and continued, “And knowing my brother, he has arranged a trap for the poor soul who dares to break into his study. A portal to Oblivion as a doormat or an angry atronach ready to rip you apart.”

Lucy raised her brow, slowly nodding. She had finished eating her apple now. “Okay… So, it’s better not to try.”

Natsu could understand her curiosity. Zeref’s disappearance was a tragic mystery, and Lucy seemed to love mysteries. For his first years in the College, Natsu had been tempted to break into Zeref’s room many times, but over time he realized he shouldn’t do it. There was a possibility that the things he’d find there would only add to his pain.

The best and the only way to deal with the circumstances was to ignore them as completely as he could. He had other things to do than worry about his long-lost brother. Out of sight, out of mind. That mindset had taken him so far.

“Anyway, let’s go brew a potion or two”, Natsu said, pointing at the door to their left. “Then I can show you how the enchanting table works. I can’t promise I can do anything with it, though…”

Natsu opened the door to the alchemist’s quarters, letting her enter before him. Awestruck, Lucy froze in the doorway, eyes sparkling at the sight which Natsu had grown used to long ago. The room was cosy, chilly and small – shelves and barrels lined the walls, and last rays of sun bled through the dusty window, glimmering on the bottles of the lab.

 Lucy entered, her steps careful as if she feared she’d break something along the way.

“What’s this?” Lucy asked, pointing at a bowl that was filled with black dust. Natsu smiled faintly at her enthusiasm. It was something he missed having. She was just like him when he had joined, when every small detail had blown his mind. What had once been the most magical essence in the world was now just the dirt of a storm atronach.

“Void salt”, he answered as he walked to the lab. He picked up a clean bottle from a basket underneath the table. “Don’t ask me how it’s used.”

Lucy chuckled dryly. “There was an alchemist in Helgen whose daughter was of the same age as me. We weren’t really friends though, which is a pity. I could’ve learned a lot from her.”

Natsu glanced at her, not really comprehending what she meant. The sparkles in her eyes dimmed out as a wistful expression took over her face. Lucy pulled dried lavender and blue mountain flowers from her satchel, avoiding his gaze.

“How was that?” Natsu asked. “I thought you could be friends with anyone.”

Lucy went silent abruptly.

“Well, she… We had some drama. Bound to happen in a small town”, Lucy answered then and wiped an escaped wisp of hair behind her ear. “She was… jealous, I think. I was friends with a boy she liked, and she didn’t like me because of it. Nothing more serious than that.”

Pinching his brows, Natsu watched as she placed the flowers in a mortal and picked up a pestle. Crushing and mixing the ingredients was the simplest part, and she needed no help with it. He listened to the soft tapping while trying to make sense of what she said.

“Strange”, he thought aloud and rubbed his forehead. “Why would anyone care about who you’re friends with?”

Lucy smiled shortly. ”A girl’s life is sometimes very complicated.”

“Clearly.”

Natsu felt like Lucy left something unsaid, but didn’t mind finding out what. She spoke little about the life she had before, but it seemed like something… normal? At least in the way Natsu defined normal. No wonder why she’d been bored to death in Helgen when who was friends with who was the most complicated thing in life.

And when she did speak about her life, it was almost impossible to believe that she was the Dragonborn. The soul of an immortal dragon residing inside a normal, small-town girl, who had a while ago lived in perfect ignorance about who she truly was. The contrast in her life was so vast, almost like the difference between black and white.

And maybe that was why she appeared to be so fine with it. The change had been so sudden and radical that perhaps she was able to detach from her former life, and focus on all the new happening now. Perhaps she thought she was just dreaming. Could that be her secret of coping so well, and being able to smile?

But how long would it last?

After Lucy had crushed the plants, she placed them in a flask. She lit a fire in the small burner, added water to the mixture and waited until it started to boil. It seemed that whatever she did, she did it with great excellence and expertise, making Natsu question why he was there in the first place. She could manage on her own just as good.

“We can skip the enchanting for now”, Lucy said after a silence. “I really like this, brewing potions. It’s mesmerizing to watch the liquid drip into a bottle, and this smell is just so wonderful. If I didn’t want to be a mage, then I would be an alchemist for sure.”

Natsu chortled. “Giant’s toes and imp stool will surely change your mind.”

Lucy scrunched her nose and leaned to the table. While she waited for the bottle to fill, Natsu studied the ingredients on the shelves. Most of them he couldn’t even name. He recognized the purple deathbell flower, for it had grown in the area of his home. Zeref had ingested those during his alchemy research, resulting in a sickness that almost cost his life.

Suddenly, Happy brushed his head against Natsu’s legs and meowed loudly. He trotted to the slightly open door with his tail swinging, as if beckoning the mage to follow. Natsu knew where he wanted to go.

“Happy probably wants to go to the roof with me”, Natsu told to Lucy. He crouched and rubbed the cat’s neck, making him purr again. “You’re fine here if I go?”

Lucy nodded before she turned back to the lab. “Of course.”

“I’ll be up there if you need anything”, he said and followed the cat into the hallway. “Just don’t add too many snowberries in it.” He heard her launch a faded retort as he raced after Happy, who lead him up the stairs of the tower.

The roof of the College was the area that connected the tops of the two towers and the walls surrounding the courtyard. One could use the roof to pass from one tower to another, except for the Hall of Elements. Its top was only accessible for the Arch-Mage.

Natsu pushed open the heavy stone door which led to the roof. Cold air rushed against his body as he stepped into the darkness outside, seeing a blue glowing spot running towards the balcony opening to the south.

As always, the roof was eerily silent. Even the crows were sleeping now. It was a place Natsu often came to cool his head. Natsu followed the cat into the stone canopy, stopping beside a magical brazier. As Happy seated next to him, Natsu wondered if Zeref had come here too for the same purpose, thus causing his cat to continue the habit.

Natsu gazed at the distant silhouettes of mountains drawing against the blackest sky, clear of clouds and lit with thousands of stars. The shrine of Azura, a colossal statue of the Daedric prince of dust and dawn stood on the horizon. Even it looked so small from here.

The town of Winterhold could usually be fully seen from the roof of the College, but now only the lone torches lightened the few buildings. The bridge leading to the College was lit by the magical braziers, and vacant of any travellers.

“You’re still waiting for him?” Natsu asked from the cat, who meowed as an answer. “Like if you’d stay here long enough, every night, he’d eventually appear on that bridge?”

What Natsu adored about animals was their loyalty. They didn’t give up hope. They believed in their humans until their last breath, and waited for them just as long. Happy never left the College’s ground. Natsu didn’t know if he was magically bound to stay, or if he didn’t want to miss Zeref’s hypothetical return.

That hopeless loyalty was something humans could never have.

“You know he’ll never come back.”

The words escaped his lips with such strength and confidence like he had always known them true, but never dared to say it out loud. He had known it since the day he heard Zeref had left the College, but never really understood it. If he’d ever see his brother again, it wouldn’t be here, and only now he knew why.

It was almost ironic how understanding could only be granted for those who shared the same fate.

For many times today, Natsu had thought Igneel was just sleeping in his room. Or maybe he was brewing potions, or hanging out in the Hall of the Elements… but then Natsu remembered that he wasn’t. Not there, not anyplace else. Zeref must’ve felt the same when he returned without Mavis. Like he’d searched for her in places she had been, but would never be again.

He knew it all now. He knew how the walls became cold and hollow, and the silence which once had been the most comfortable thing in the world became deafening, deadly, like the first ice on a lake which would break from only one word.

Zeref left because he couldn’t stand it.

And if not for Lucy, Natsu wouldn’t stand it either.

Natsu gazed into the distance again. Zeref, unlike Igneel, was still somewhere out there, anywhere in the world, on the opposite end of the void. At this point, did Natsu even want to reunite with him, when he’d been gone for so many years? Would he even look up from the table if his brother would suddenly appear?

Though the family was bound by blood, it only meant so much when time gnawed away the connection. There wasn’t a bond so strong in the world that survived time’s tooth without an effort to maintain it, or if there was, Natsu was yet to know it.

The absence of Zeref’s presence was the voice that spoke in his turn. He had let their brotherhood burn, and Natsu wouldn’t be the one to shift the ashes.

He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as a door opened behind him. Natsu turned his head, seeing Lucy enter the roof from the Hall of Attainment. She waved her hand and smiled. How much time had passed? Natsu wasn’t sure, but his cheeks stung from the cold.

“How’d the brewing go?” Natsu asked as she reached him. Happy hurried to greet her by pushing his head against her stockings, then jumped back on the balcony’s fence.

Lucy leaned to the stone railing, lifting her gaze on the sky. “I got three potions done but have no idea what they do.”

Natsu smiled shortly. The gloom began to dissolve in his mind at her presence, making him wonder how could she be so… happy? Perhaps it was the wrong word, but she appeared to careless, content, nothing like one was supposed to be when they’d lost everything. 

Could it simply be her dream of becoming a mage that kept her sane through all that? Or did she believe there was a purpose for all of her suffering, and that everything would be alright one day? Like a spell of Clairvoyance. A clear goal on the mind, a bigger picture on the horizon, and the view would be easy on the eyes again.

For a second Natsu wondered if he could somehow achieve the same mindset.

The void Igneel left behind felt too vast, too painful to be filled by any dream, but maybe it wasn’t the aim after all. A twisted solace was that even the most grotesque wounds closed in time. Just like his connection with his brother, maybe this pain would eventually fade.

All he would need to do was to stop touching the wound and let it heal in peace, and focus on something else completely.

“I got one thing for you”, Lucy said, a faint smile forming on her lips. She pulled something from the pocket of her cloak. “This. Igneel’s notebook. It was left in the nightstand.”

Hesitating a moment, Natsu received the book as Lucy almost forced it into his hands. He traced his shivering fingers over its cover before opening it. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the familiar handwriting. The dates on the upper corner of the pages were from three years ago.

“I’m… losing my m-mind with this… goddamn half-elf”, Natsu read aloud, his speech stuttering and pauses long. The brazier’s light was way too dim for reading. “Today he s-set my robes on fire – on purpose – and laughed while my ass-hair burned. I… think I’ll teach this d-damned brat a… lesson.”

Lucy giggled into the sleeve of her robes. “Well, did he?”

Natsu read a bit more in silence before answering. “It was an accident, but Igneel never believed me”, he said and flashed a quick smile. “And if I remember right, he put nirnroot into my mead as revenge. It was supposed to give me the worst stomachache, but for some reason it did nothing, except for tasting like shit.”

“It has been said that a good friend helps you up when you fall”, Lucy started, “but a best friend will laugh in your face and trip you again.”

“That’s pretty much how it was”, Natsu said and turned the pages, the smile on his face deepening. “Hey, the instructions for casting our tent! I didn’t even know he wrote them up.” He raised his eyes from the notebook to Lucy. “Thanks. Really.”

Natsu placed the book on his chest, pressing it tightly so the wind wouldn’t catch it. He would give it a read later in a better light.

“That just means I can take more books with me if we don’t have to carry a tent”, Lucy said, shyly looking down. “And what I said earlier, about wanting to stay here… Well, you’re right. We shouldn’t delay. All the new spells I got will keep me busy on the road just as good.”

Though Natsu had expected her to say that, he still raised his brow. “So, we’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” She took a breath and brushed Happy’s fur as the cat trotted in front of her. “It will be quite an adventure for sure.”

As silence fell between them, Natsu lifted his gaze to the sky. Then, unexpectantly, aurora appeared against the night – bright, colourful waves of magic. They enlightened the world, painting the grey stones of the College’s roof in shades of green and azure.

Igneel had once explained what caused them, but Natsu didn’t remember. Aurora was said to be a burst of magical energy emanating from Aetherius, radiating down onto Nirn. They were beautiful to look at while they lasted. Like a breath of a goddess dancing across the stars.

“Wow”, Lucy sighed, her gaze locked on the colours on the sky. “I’ve seen some of them in Helgen, but never so bright. But… What’s there?”

Something moved at the faraway mountains, a black figure flying alongside the green lights. Natsu recognized the shape, and he knew Lucy did too.

“A dragon”, she whispered.

When listening close enough, Natsu could hear its roars, like thunder raging across the distance. The dragon was far away now, but it could cross the space between them in minutes if it wanted to. It seemed peaceful before it disappeared behind the mountains again, still leaving him holding his breath.

Could it have been the large, black dragon that had attacked Helgen and raised another dragon from the grave? Or was there more of them now? Lucy was the only one who could stop them, but they had barely survived just one dragon. Would the few dragons breed and overtake the entire country now, as the prophecies said? Would the world come to an end, despite all their efforts?

Natsu turned to Lucy again. She stared into the horizon with the lights of aurora twirling on her face. The sighting of another dragon plunged her deep into her thoughts, and what was going on in her mind, Natsu had absolutely no idea of. But she didn’t look scared. No, far from it.

Then it suddenly struck him what Igneel had tried to tell him last night through his dream. He couldn’t dwell in his grief anymore – it was time to set forth. Igneel had just shown him the way, a path to follow in life from now, and it was her.  

The important thing was her.

A frigid wind blew through the forest as Erza pulled her sword from the dying wolf, the steel glistening in a scarlet fluid. The animal whimpered as it collapsed to the ground, waiting for her to deliver a final blow. Erza looked it into its yellow, old eyes as she raised her sword again and struck it through the wolf’s skull.

“I’m sorry”, the Companion muttered as she cleaned the bloodied blade by wiping it in the snow. “It was a good fight.”

Erza sheathed her blade as she spent a silent moment at the wolf’s carcass, honouring the life she just took. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest – while it hadn’t been a close call, ice wolves were always tough. They were twice as large as regular wolves and twice as ferocious. The wolf had attacked her on the road, and twilight had fallen while they had fought.

But she had won, her steel not betraying her this time.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh, chilly air to calm her rushing blood before continuing her journey. Raising her eyes from the wolf, she measured how far she had strayed from the road. Her footsteps on the snow intertwined with the wolf’s, crimson splatters adorning the white shimmering surface.

Perhaps this calm moment after a fierce battle was the profound reason she joined the Companions years ago. The satisfaction pushed her through triumph and defeat, victories feeling like standing on top of a mountain with arms spread as wide as the sky itself.

After facing a dragon, she thought she’d never feel like that again.

She revelled in the feeling for a while. More wolves howled in the distance, and as Erza’s thrill started to wear off, she doubted she could take on a whole pack of wolves now. With exhausted steps, she left the forest and found back to the moonlit road.

Erza had dropped her bag behind the rocks on the pavement. Even though her tent could be folded to fit into a small place, she had needed her full agility against that wolf. She found her belongings where she had left them, picked them up and looked up, gaze focusing on the building on the dim horizon. It was the Nightgate Inn, her next destination. Looking forward to a warm meal and a warm bed, she set forth.

Exhaustion began to grow in her legs, calves burning as she walked. She had spent the last night in her tent, alone and mostly awake. Despite not wanting to admit it, she missed the brats, Natsu and Lucy. She seldom accompanied with mages, but spending a week with them had been a nice change, eye-opening almost. There was so much more in this world than ice-cold steel she had always trusted.

Thanks to her hungry haste, Erza reached the inn fast. She kicked the stairs to shake the snow off her boots before she entered, not bothering to knock. A scent of fresh, spicy stew filled her lungs with warmth as she stepped in. She sighed and let her tense muscles relax.

The inn was surprisingly full, with about ten travellers gathering at the tables. The lively chatter turned into merry singing and shouting at the same rate as the mead bottles emptied. Erza crossed the hall and bought herself a room for a night. The innkeeper showed her into her room, but she didn’t stay for long. She placed her heavy bag into a chest and then she went to order herself a full bowl of stew with a large stein of ale.

She dined in silence, sudden melancholy growing inside her armoured heart. The noise around her felt pointless in the absence of friendly voices. Despite the constant drunken brawls she despised, she couldn’t wait to be back in Jorrvaskr. The best part of adventures was coming home. Nothing in the world could beat that.

Or, maybe one thing would…

When she finished eating, she decided to head back outside. The singing and dancing got on her nerves – she would get enough of that when she’d reach Whiterun. She left the bowl on the table as she rose and walked to the door, stepping back into the fresh night air and embracing the silence.

Stars glimmered against the black velvet of the sky. Erza didn’t stay at the front door. Instead, she circled behind the building to view the scenery opening from the hill. She followed a pathway trodded in the snow, which led her to a small pond near the inn. A dock was built on the shore, possibly serving as a swimming or washing place during summer. She walked to the end of the wooden dock and peeked into the water. The currents had kept it from freezing yet.

Sudden lights appeared on the sky as she stood there, the colourful waves of magical energy dancing against the blackest night. She exhaled, the sense of time fading around her as she adored the beauty of the world.

By her habit, Erza gazed around trying to glimpse Jellal’s owl. She hadn’t contacted him yet, deciding to wait ‘til her thoughts would’ve cleared. Shame silenced her. Jellal was the only person Erza could be weak with, but she didn’t want to admit how miserably she had failed. How she wasn’t as strong as she let the others know – as she let herself know.

“Erza?” said a sudden voice behind her, making her flinch. Recognising the voice, she turned around. A man stood where the dock began, a man Erza knew. 

Speak of the devil.

“Jellal!” Erza squealed and raised her hand above her mouth, realising she had been too loud. “What are you doing here?”

They weren’t supposed to meet here, not now, but it seemed sometimes their paths crossed by happenstance. As if they were drawn together, like a moth drawn to a flame. But which one of them was the flame and which one the moth, Erza couldn’t tell, even after knowing him for her entire life.

The man stretched his arms, pulling an elbow close to his chest. “Just dumped a body in the pond.”

Erza frowned, letting her gaze fall into the dark water beneath her. She had been standing there for a quarter of an hour at least and hadn’t heard or seen anything. Not a splash on the pond’s surface, not crunching of snow, not even a flash of a shadow.

“Should I ask the same from you?” Jellal asked as he walked to her.

Erza raised her eyes to him. He stood tall in front of her, his face veiled in the darkness of his hood. Gently, he pulled it back and revealed a smile Erza had missed for so long.

Right then the blood in his hands didn’t matter at all.

Erza clung to Jellal’s neck, wrapping her arms around his slender build. She pressed her face into his chest, smelling blood in his pitch-black robes. Pushing it aside, she closed her eyes and muttered, “I missed you.”

Jellal chuckled, softly patting her on the back. “Did something happen?”

“A dragon”, she whispered, the terror still alive in the tone of her voice. “There was a dragon in Kynesgrove.”

“Really?”

Erza swallowed past a lump forming in her throat. She knew Jellal wouldn’t judge her for it. He was aware of her fear of the dragons, had always been.

“I was so scared. Seeing it rise from its grave just…” she whispered and paused for a breath. “I’m a coward, Jellal. I couldn’t fight. I left the brats alone against it, the little mages, they were braver than me. And Lucy, she –“

“Wait a moment”, Jellal interrupted, putting a gloved finger on her lips. It smelled of blood. “I’m not holding up. The dragon rose from the dead? You witnessed it?”

“Yes”, she started. “Another dragon woke it up. A big one, as black as night.”

Jellal silenced for a moment, processing what she told.

“I think we have much more to talk about”, he said then. “But the dragons can wait for a while.”

With careful, delicate hands Jellal lifted Erza’s chin and bent down to press his lips on hers. Erza surrendered into the kiss, tasting arousal on his tongue. She knew killing made his blood flow, the rush of murder flaming up his passion.

He grasped the back of her head, pulling her ever closer to him. With his strong fingers among her hair, Erza couldn’t help but think whose life those same hands had taken this time. Had it been a man or a woman? Young or old? She would never know.

“Mind if I’d warm your bed tonight, Scarlet?” he asked, snapping Erza out of her thoughts. 

“In an inn full of people?” she answered, shocked. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Killing all the witnesses would solve such a minor problem.”

Erza shook her head, hiding a smile into the shadows. “That’s the stupidest idea ever. Of course not. Not here, at least…”

Jellal smirked as he pulled away from their embrace. Though he never said it aloud, Erza knew the distance between them was tearing him apart as well. Just as she hoped he wouldn’t have chosen to become an assassin, Jellal hoped she wouldn’t be a Companion. They would never ask each other to give up their choices, but it didn’t make their shared wish of living together go away.

“Have you ever thought…” Erza started silently, swallowing her words in hesitation. She didn’t want to say it, but now she was too desperate for his comfort. There had to be a solution for the... conflict of their lifestyles. The thought had ripened in Erza’s mind since the mage had first said it days ago, and now she couldn’t refuse to pick that up.

“Thought about what?”

She bit her lip as she pressed her face against his chest again. “Creating a disguise.”

“A disguise?” Jellal wondered, his sharp brows pinching together.

Erza began to regret bringing it up, but his reaction hadn’t been an utter rejection either. He appeared curious. Cautious, but curious.

“Yes”, she assured. “You could have another name, another background, another… occupation.”

Jellal chuckled and caressed her cheek. “Who could I be if I wasn’t me?”

“A scholar from Cyrodiil investigating the dragon attacks”, Erza answered and leaned to his hand. “Whiterun’s court wizard accepts all help he can get. No one would waste time figuring out your true background.”

“All that just so we could have –“

“Not just that”, she said, blushing. “We could… We could see each other without worrying so much. We could be together.”

Jellal went silent for a while. He gazed at her, his dark eyes a void of all emotion. Erza knew he still felt, though. He felt a lot, but his cold-hearted demeanour hid it perfectly.

“It’s risky”, he mumbled then.

“Not as risky as what you just suggested. And anyone who knows your face is dead anyway.”

“Where’d you get such an idea after all these years, my dear?” Jellal asked, the smile on his face suddenly decaying. He stared straight into her eyes, freezing Erza’s blood.

“From whom did you get such an idea?”

Photos: The view of the roof and the pond behind the inn

Chapter Text

”Sahlkoniir, ziil do doval ulse! Slen Tiid Vo!”

Upon the mighty command, darkness awakened deep within the stony ground after centuries of unending slumber.

The beast moved his limbs, life now enveloping the once-dead bones. He climbed upward towards the voice of the one who had brought back his consciousness, which some found a gift, and some a curse. And with a sharp, strong strike of his tail, he shattered the stone lid covering this shallow, humiliating grave.

Through flying rocks the beast emerged from the burial mound, tasting the air that had changed so much since he had last breathed. His eyes opened to a sight of a comrade floating above, his wing strikes as steadfast as the winter wind. Except that this dragon wasn’t a comrade – he was a leader. The leader of them all.

Flesh and scales formed around his skeletal figure, igniting a fire that wouldn’t be extinguished, not anymore. The pitiful mortals had once defeated him, but he wouldn’t allow that to happen ever again.

”Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?” he said, his voice resonating ancient bloodlust time had suffocated for too long.

Visions of the old times, centuries back flashed before his eyes as he turned his head. The shattered swords against his scales, screams of the dying mortals, the whole world burning in the flames of his creation. It would all come true again, and very soon – but then his gaze found two mortals who’d witnessed his resurrection, standing behind a rock by his grave.

There was something in the eyes of them which evoked a feeling he hadn’t felt in an eternity, something he couldn’t fully grasp.

Especially in the eyes of that pitiful little girl.

Lucy woke up covered in cold sweat, not able to comprehend what she’d just seen.

With her heart pounding in an erratic rhythm, she raised her arms towards the ceiling. Just a moment ago she’d seen the talons of a dragon instead of pale, thin fingers. A blue-stoned ring glimmered in her right hand, becoming a point of focus as she adjusted back to reality.

‘I’m still me, I’m still a human. Good. I’m breathing, I’m still in my room, and I’m definitely not a… dragon.’

She took a deep, deep breath and closed her eyes again. The dream lingered in her mind, the vision of herself and Natsu sticking like a stain. They were at Kynesgrove, looking exactly like they’d been that day, to the smallest detail. The darkened sky, the black dragon soaring above them, everything was as it had been.

Suddenly she realized that it hadn’t been a dream.

It had been a memory of the dragon she had slain.

Lucy recalled the words the dragons had spoken – back then they hadn’t made any sense to her, but now they had a meaning.

‘Sahklonir, I bind your dragon spirit for eternity. Flesh, Time, Undo’, the black dragon had said as he rose the other from the grave. Sahklonir had been his name.

‘Alduin, my lord! Has the time come to revive our ancient realm?’ Sahklonir had answered, and the understanding brought chills down Lucy’s spine.

Alduin the World-Eater.

Lucy sprung up from the bed and lit the candles on the shelves. All clouds had dissipated from her mind despite it being the earliest hour of a day. With haste, she picked up the book Natsu had read yesterday, and brought it closer to candlelight. She had ignored the book before, her focus on the lore of Saarthal, but now her interest was piqued.

She trailed her fingertip on the lines as she read, her quick eyes fixing the grammar errors and finding corrections for misspelt words. The book had been written by a poorly educated commoner who was convinced that Akatosh and Alduin weren’t the same thing.

Lucy knew Akatosh as the chief deity of the Nine Divines, the Dragon God of Time – her parents, as many other Nords, believed in the Nine. The lie she had told Gray yesterday had some truth in it. While Father had worshipped Zenithar, the god of work, commerce and trade, Mother stayed loyal to Kynareth.

Lucy had grown up surrounded by faith, but did she ever truly believe in the gods? Had her prayers been just vacuous chants, said out of habit she didn’t feel as her own?

Pushing aside her thoughts about religion, she focused on the book. ‘But Alduin is a real dragon, with flesh and teeth and a mean streak longer than the White River. And there was a time when Alduin tried to rule over all of Skyrim with his other dragons.’ Could that have been what the dragon meant about reviving their ancient realm?

Had the large, black dragon really been Alduin?

She had heard and read a little about the end-time prophecies, but not much. Her parents had tried to protect her from those kinds of stories, not wanting to plant any food for nightmares into her head. Now she wished she had read those books anyway, gathered any bit of information she could find – then she wouldn’t feel so lost now.

Lucy finished the book and put it back on the shelf. The memories of the dragon flickered in her mind again, scattered fragments of life the beast had lived, fading as the new day dawned.

Indeed, she had absorbed the dragon’s soul, and all that came with it became a part of her own. Yet she could not organize, or even comprehend the contents, maybe one day she would. Maybe the Greybeards would help with that.

Speaking of Greybeards, Lucy realized she hadn’t packed her things yet. The dragon sighting yesterday had distracted her from the goal at hand, and she’d spent the night thinking about it. She had stayed on the roof for a while waiting if the dragon would return, but it never did, and the cold drove her back indoors. Natsu had insisted to stay behind for a moment, and Lucy thought he wanted to go through Igneel’s notebook without her presence.

Lucy sat on her bed for a moment, wrapping herself into the warm blanket. What should she take with her? It would be best to keep the equipment light. As she had experienced on the way from Helgen to here, even a few books became a burden when carried for a whole day’s walk. But, well, if Natsu had asked to carry her books for her yesterday, maybe he could take half of that burden for himself... If asked nicely.

The spell books Lucy had gathered so far were in her bookcase, in their separate shelf. She had seven of them now: Oakflesh, Conjure Familiar, Bound Bow, Clairvoyance, Fast Healing, Sparks and Frostbite. All of them would surely be useful, but as she’d already learned Conjure Familiar and Bound Bow, she decided to leave them in the College. Yet she could sell the spell tomes she no longer needed, she didn’t want to. She hoped that one day that case would be full of spells she knew.

A knock on the door made her realize she had stared at the spells for quite a while. Lucy rose and walked across the room, somehow knowing who there was so early in the morning.

“Oh, you’re already awake”, Natsu said as Lucy opened the door. “Good.”

She grinned, stepping aside to make room for the mage and the ghostly cat at his feet. Happy meowed to greet her good morning. “How’d you know you didn’t wake me?”

The sun wasn’t up yet, only the candles giving light to the room. Everyone else was probably still asleep, and it allowed them to talk more freely about their plans. Though the walls had ears in here, maybe they wouldn’t be listening so early on the day.

“Huh? You’d be crankier if I did”, he answered and spread a piece of paper on her unmade bed. Lucy scoffed at his comment but had no change to retort as he continued. “Anyway, I brought a map. It took me a while to find it, but I marked the path I planned. Here.”

Lucy walked closer as Natsu sat down and put his finger on the top right corner of the map. “This is where we start”, Natsu told, trailing his hand along a red line he’d drawn. He stopped at a spot marked with an x. “And here’s a depleted iron mine. The veins ran dry a decade ago, but it’s a good place to spend a night. We’ll reach it today.”

‘A depleted iron mine’ sent shivers down her spine, grabbing her stomach into a twisting grip. Though her memories of the first day were cloudy, she would never forget what happened in Embershard mine.

“Hope there’s no bandits there”, Lucy whispered and swallowed, attempting to cast away the distraught feeling in her guts. Happy bumped his head against her knees before jumping into the windowsill, curling up against the iron bars.

“If there is, we can handle them”, Natsu said, grinned and imitated the strike of an axe with his hands. Lucy’s stomach twisted at the memory he referred to, goosebumps rising on her skin. “Like when –“

“It wasn’t fun!” she hissed, hesitated and lowered her voice. “Still isn’t. I killed a person, be a bandit or not, and it will haunt me forever. She had all the rights to live, but I took it away. Her life, her hopes, her dreams…”

Natsu silenced, gazing at her with a sudden seriousness in his dark green eyes.

“Lucy”, he started, but paused to consider his words more carefully. “Don’t feel bad about it. You know she would’ve killed you if you didn’t kill her first. There’s no diplomacy among the outlaws. They speak with violence. If you want to keep your life, you better not let them take it. Because they will if you give them a chance.”

Lucy shook her head and pressed her nails into her palms to make the shivering cease.

“But she didn’t even attack me. I stood in the shadows when she heard your voice, and then I just… I just killed her before she even detected me.”

“And she had a fucking greatsword in her hands. If she would’ve seen you, you wouldn’t be here now.”

Lucy knew it. She knew it very well, but it didn’t make her feel any better about it. As a defence, her mind has tried to push it aside to the back of her head and bury it so deep she’d never find it, but Natsu’s mention about staying in a mine brought it all back. The sound of steel breaking through skin and bone. The hot droplets spraying on her face. The ringing in her ears as she screamed when she opened her eyes.

Yet the blood on her hands had been washed away, the stain of that crime would never fade.

Back in that day, Lucy had wondered how the mage had been so calm, as if he was fine with it. He had burned two men to death, but Lucy didn’t blame him. Never had. She knew it painfully well what those men would’ve done to her if Natsu hadn’t killed them. But didn’t it bother him? Or did he bury that guilt as she did?

“Well, hopefully we don’t cross paths with any bandits”, Natsu spoke after a silence. “If anyone tries to pick up a quarrel, we back off. Better avoid all unnecessary trouble for now.”

Lucy glanced at him. “Sure you can do that? Avoid all trouble?”

“If the world depends on it, then yes. And it kinda does”, he said and shrugged, turning back to the map on the bed. “That’s why we’re not going by the main road. There’s a path that saves us a lot of time, and it goes around here. ”

Though she found a strange solace in his words, Lucy still couldn’t shake off the unsettled feeling inside of her. If he had planned a safe route, that was fine, but was there such a thing in Skyrim as safety?

The mage moved his finger down the map, to the east of Windhelm. The road they had taken took to the west before changing to the north. “Not many travellers use it ‘cause it’s a bit challenging to walk, but it means we can be at peace. It takes a lot of energy though, so it’s best to stay in Windhelm’s inn for that night.”

Lucy nodded, the thought granting her a distraction she needed. “Maybe we could visit the marketplace this time.”

“Sure”, Natsu answered, nodding. “Then there’s the volcanic tundra, which means we’ll have to camp for a few nights. The caves out there are full of bears and spriggans.”

Lucy smiled a bit. “I liked that place. At least it was warm. Better not burn your hands again in a hot spring again.”

Natsu chuckled, looking down to hide his smile. “Not one of my brightest ideas indeed. But anyway, I think we’ll be in Ivarstead in a week, or even less.”

“Sounds great”, Lucy replied and smirked. “The villagers there can surely give us some tips about climbing the seven thousand steps. Maybe I should get to packing…”

Natsu paid her a quick glance. “Definitely.”

Yesterday, when she’d returned from the roof, she had headed to the bathing chambers in the cellar of the tower. Mirajane had told her how the water system worked. The College’s sewers and cisterns imitated the pipework of the ancient dwarves, collecting water from the glacial springs deep underground.

Natsu hadn’t lied when he said the washing water was always cold. Lucy had found the boilers emptied, and figured warm water was almost like a sweet roll – it existed only for a very short while. After washing herself with a few bucketfuls of frigid water and some honey-scented soap, she hurried back to her quarters and buried herself under many blankets, falling asleep thinking about dragons, leaving her belongings unpacked.

Lucy picked up her empty backpack from the top of the drawer. After packing her unlearned spells, she took a few pieces of spare clothes, especially socks. The travellers passing by her store always bought a new pair of socks, calling it the most important thing. One of the customers had even shown her his blackened, toe-missing foot – such dreadful condition could be prevented by keeping the feet warm, dry, and clean.

Natsu watched as she packed, suddenly commenting, “Whatever Gray has told you, put on all the clothes you have. Layer up. The first days will be the coldest, but after we get below Windhelm, it will get warmer. But it’s better to have too many clothes than too little.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think his intentions of teaching me about Nord’s frost resistance were entirely pure”, she answered, smiling a bit. Those two mages were like polar opposites, yet ironically. While the frost mage obviously aimed to see her naked, the fire one couldn’t care less.

Natsu rolled the map and rose from her bed, walking to the door. “And if anyone asks who we are, we are cousins on a way to our grandfather’s nameday party. The destination may vary though, depending on where we are.”

Lucy raised her brow, giving him a quizzical glance. “Cousins?”

“Any better ideas for a cover-up story?”

She chuckled as she continued putting her clothes into the bag. “I see you’re taking this very seriously, but I don’t think we’ll need to lie to anyone.”

“There’s nothing more curious than a small-town granny, you’ll see. I’m actually convinced that most elders are just some Imperial spies. They ask for a little chat, but suddenly dig up every little detail about your life.”

Lucy couldn’t help but wonder where was the boy who had played with fire? His recklessness was gone, or at least heavily suppressed. Yet the change in his behaviour was respectful, the fact that he’d changed only after she was revealed to be the Dragonborn bothered her somehow.

He had given up avenging his best friend’s death to help the Dragonborn, not her. Even if she’d asked, he wouldn’t have stayed. Because Lucy, a merchant’s daughter who wanted to be a mage, wasn’t as important as the only one who could slay the dragons.

“We’re just travelling mages. That’s all people need to know”, Lucy stated, grinning as she realized a fault in his logic. “Besides, calling us cousins isn’t smart. We’re different races, you little half-elf.”

Natsu stared at her for a moment. ”Oh shit, you’re right. I totally forgot about that... Either I overthink or don’t think at all it seems. There’s no in between…”

Lucy smiled, finding it almost cute. Funny, at least.

Happy finished his nap, rising up and stretching his back on the windowsill. He meowed and jumped down on Lucy’s drawer, pushing his face into her hands. His whiskers tickled her skin.

“Though, people have crossbred since the dawn of time, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad idea”, Lucy reassured, hoping he didn’t feel completely stupid now. “I’ve heard of a Nord man who married an Orc, and I bet their child would look a bit… different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Flustering, Lucy realized he had understood it so very wrong.

“Nothing”, Lucy said as she lifted the cat into her arms, quickly switching the subject before he’d get any more wrong ideas. “I wish he could come with us.”

Natsu stayed silent for a moment, watching as Lucy stroked Happy’s ghostly fur.

“I’ve wished the same many times, but he’s bound here with magic”, he said then. “Maybe one day that spell can be broken. He’d make a good addition to our team.”

“Or maybe he could be made yours?” Lucy asked, turning to look at him. “If your brother would give up the contract with Happy and pass it to you. Does it even work like that?”

Natsu shrugged. “Gotta ask him if we ever meet again. But until that, Happy stays in the College. And I don’t know if he’d be any help in a fight…”

“Would you be helpful in a fight?” Lucy asked the cat, softening her voice into cooing. Happy answered with a cheerful meow. “Of course you would. Natsu, could you teach him to breathe fire?”

He held back a laugh. “What?”

“It would be perfect. Just a cute little kitty, not a big threat… and then he’d just roar fire like a dragon.”

“I bet I’ll be breathing fire before I can teach that cat anything. He’s as rock-headed as me.”

Lucy smiled shortly. “Oh, that I can believe”, she said and rubbed the cat’s head. “That I can believe… Was I supposed to be packing?”

“Yeah, you were. But take your time. I’ll go eat something, so come find me in the dining hall when you’re ready to go.”

Happy began to squirm in her hold as the mage opened the door. As much as the cat seemed to like her, he still preferred Natsu’s company over hers. Sighing, Lucy crouched and released him. The mage and his cat went to the hallway, leaving her alone for a moment.

Yesterday, when she returned from the roof, Lucy bumped into Mirajane. The master wizard had been busy organizing the trip to Saarthal and apologized for the lack of proper touring. When Lucy told her it was alright, that Natsu already showed her around, Mirajane had instantly scolded the fire mage for forgetting to tell her many important things. For example, there was a closet on the upper floor from which the apprentices could borrow clothes. Lucy had found some nice and warm outfits there to wear underneath a mage’s robes.

And as Mira had observed her carrying all those clothes to her quarters, she had asked if she’d join the novices on tomorrow’s excavation. Gray hadn’t been the only person she’d have to explain her absence to, and Lucy decided to tell her the same lie. Mirajane had been understanding – she just told her to be careful. She could attend all the missing classes once she’d return from her journey, and it made her feel a bit better about leaving.

As Lucy folded a wool shirt, her thoughts circled back to the events of the iron mine. If Natsu hadn’t brought that up, it would’ve stayed snug and comfortable in the back of her head, perfectly out of reach. Her fingers clutched into the soft fabric, almost like mistaking it into a handle. Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, but the image wouldn’t fade.

Counting coins had been all her hands had done so far, until that day. She’d been innocent, never hurting anyone, never doing anything bad. Picking a few locks and stealing a few meads weren’t even comparable with taking someone’s life.

And now the very same, innocent hands had killed an immortal dragon – and would most likely have to do it again.

‘Will I ever be at peace with being a killer?’

The thought which Natsu used to justify his own homicides didn’t resonate with Lucy. She understood it, but couldn’t there be any other way? Why did violence have to be the only option for solving conflict? People had tongues to speak with, goddammit. Why couldn’t they just talk through their differences, compromise, persuade, even intimidate instead of bloodshed?

When a dragon breathed ice or fire, it was speaking in their ancient and powerful language. A battle between two dragons was actually a deadly verbal debate – then why couldn’t humans do the same?

Well, most humans weren’t dragons like her.

Lucy pressed her face into the shirt to calm her rapid breathing.

‘I did what I had to. Just because I’ve killed someone doesn’t make me a killer…’  she tried to assure herself, immediately realizing the fault in her logic. ‘It doesn’t make me a bad person. Killers are bad. I’m not that… am I not? Gods, I shouldn’t be focusing on this. What’s done is done.’

Lucy lowered the shirt on her bed, sitting down next to it. She stared blankly at her hands, her thin pale fingers trembling helplessly.

‘I want to go home. I know I can’t, but I wish I could. I wish I could see you again, Mom, for you’d hug me and tell me I’m not a killer, not a monster, that I’m just Lucy… Your Lucy…’

She suffocated a sob as her vision shifted from her mother’s face into a memory so ancient and distant that it couldn’t be hers. There was fire – dragonfire – enveloping an old village into smoke and destruction, and fangs as sharp as scythes harvesting men, women, even children as small as mere babies.

The memories of Sahklonir, so vivid she could almost taste the human blood on her tongue.

And she was distraught after killing just one bandit? Sahklonir had killed thousands, and now she had to remember it all, take it as a burden of her own – whether she’d want it or not. Whether she’d be strong enough to carry it to the end or not.

‘I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be a Dragonborn. Why me? Mom, why me?’

When she had sat in the damp, cold forest after fleeing her burning hometown, she’d held onto a naïve hope of a new life growing from the ashes of the old. There had been an optimistic opportunity indeed – she’d been saved by a mage from the College of Winterhold, a promise of a future she had always dreamt of. And yet she’d dreamt of a happy adventure, she never dreamt of this, her foolish illusion now shattering into million pieces.

She had crossed over into a realm she could never come back from.

Sahklonir’s memory played on like a haunting ghost she couldn’t banish away. She viewed the fields and forest of Kynesgrove through a dragon’s eyes, heard the screams of the miners as they fell on the beast’s teeth and talons. Two mages fighting a despairing, futile battle, their spells and arrows dispelled by impermeable scales, as insignificant as mere insects, something to wipe out of existence so the dragons could dominate the world once again.

The joy of slaughtering humans turned into annoyance as one of them climbed into his back, stabbing him with a blade as small as his tiniest tooth. Though it stung, it did nothing but feed his bloodlust for exterminating this pathetic human race.

But then an arrow pierced through his wing.

And then his throat, tearing apart his lungs, with fire fleeing from the open, bleeding wound.

The beast turned his head towards a small girl, who stood there as fierce and strong as a dragon herself, only lacking wings and scales. Right then he realized who she was – the human he’d mocked had been one of his own kind, a dragon born in the body of a mortal.

And she was there to deliver his end.

Staggered by the strength and intensity of the memory, Lucy’s head felt like bursting as her arrow struck the dragon’s skull. She couldn’t help but scream, the vision disappearing as she stared herself right into the eyes, the bow in her hands fading back into Oblivion as Sahklonir died.

The dragon had died afraid – afraid of her.

Her body broke in cold sweat, though her neck and head were on fire. Now she barely recalled having the same experience when she had absorbed the dragon’s soul, but she had collapsed from confusion back then.

If her mind hadn’t fully processed it when it happened, could it be the reason why she’d have to relive it now?

“Lucy?” she heard Natsu’s voice from outside the door, bringing her back to the present moment.  “You okay?”

She was more than glad that he’d come to snap her out of the frightening vision – she wasn’t sure to which lengths she would’ve been ready to go to stop it. She collected her breath, wiping the tears and sweat from her face.

“Yeah”, Lucy muttered, quickly figuring an excuse for her sudden scream. “There… There was a spider on the floor.”

“Yuck. You killed it already?”

“No, it… It escaped.”

“Shit. Hope it doesn’t grow too big while we’re away.”

“Or make a nest in my clothes.”

“Fuck, almost reminds me of the time when –“

“Tell me later”, Lucy told him, her body still trembling from terror. “I’m about ready. No need to shout through the door.”

The mage walked in, fully ignoring her request. Why hadn’t he locked the door? He closed it again, leaning against the wood.

 “You know, our house was near the marshlands where lived thousands of frostbite spiders. The big, nasty ones with too many eyes. Usually they didn’t come to our backyard because we had many dogs scaring them away, but once a very small one managed to sneak in”, he started and crossed his arms on his chest. “It made a nest into a hole in the floor, and sometime later those little shits were everywhere. Mom wanted to burn the whole house to the ground when she found out.”

Lucy glanced at him, glad he didn’t pay attention to her shivering, or the trails of tears on her cheeks. Or if he did, Lucy was sure he’d be convinced it was because of the non-existent spider. “How did you get rid of them?” she asked.

“Dad poured some vinegar and crushed nightshades in the nest, which did the trick. He also told me to catch frogs and bring them in, so they’d eat the remaining spiders”, Natsu told and snickered. “I tried to catch them all day, pissed off about how dad put me to do that. I had to crawl in mud after the damn frogs, and my hands got all slimy as fuck catching them. I got about ten frogs in a bucket, and I hid one in my parents’ bed as revenge. The screams of ‘Natsu!!’ were incredible. No wonder why mom went crazy.”

A faint smile appeared on Lucy’s lips. Though she had no idea what his house and family had looked like in reality, she could vividly imagine that happening. And she’d so much rather imagine a boy chasing frogs than a dragon slaughtering children.

“Raising you must’ve been nerve-wracking sometimes”, she said quietly, her smile fading.

“Sure was”, the mage answered, suddenly crouching and peeking under the bed. “Luckily I was good at hiding in a closet.”

Lucy fell silent as she observed how the mage crawled on the floor, his purpose unclear to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked then, chuckling.

“Searching for the spider”, he answered, lifting his head from the ground to look at her. “Don’t want the same thing to happen to you. Better kill it with fire before it lays eggs.”

If they were in such a hurry to leave, then why’d he waste time in that – especially when there hadn’t even been a spider?

“Let’s decide it went into Gray’s room…” Lucy said and went to her nightstand to pick up her journal and writing supplies.

The mage rose from the floor, her lie making him give up the search. “Serves him right to wake up wrapped in a web”, he grinned.

It was easy to imagine his mischievous laugh if he’d find Gray caught in a spider’s web. However, Lucy had a feeling that Natsu wouldn’t just watch him desiccate there – he’d probably mock the ice mage for a while, but eventually help him out. Natsu didn’t seem like a guy who’d let his fellow apprentices die, even if they were enemies.

“Well, I’m ready to go now”, Lucy told after packing her journal, turning to him. “I’ll just eat breakfast and get dressed first… And hey, speaking of spiders, would you like to tell me how you almost got eaten by one?”

Lucy remembered him mentioning that was how he’d got the large scar on his side, but he never told how’d he got into that situation, or how’d he survive it. Yet spiders were disgusting creatures, she didn’t fear them as much as she feared her own thoughts now.

If anything could keep her from falling into Sahklonir’s memories again, it would be great.

“That’s going to take a while to be told”, Natsu said as he opened the door for her.

Lucy smiled, walking into the hallway. “And we’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

---

A forest of snow-covered pines and spruces hid away the two weary travellers.

Natsu sat on a mossy rock, chewing a piece of dried meat and rubbing his aching shins. This was their last stop before reaching the city. The silhouette of Windhelm laid against the dimming sky, a sign of a warm meal and well-deserved rest. That thought always helped to push through the last hour, though his legs screamed for him to never carry on after this stop.

The first day was always the easiest – the thrill of a new adventure stifled the tiredness, the warmth of home still lingering on the traveller’s skin. But the first night in the wilderness reminded how harsh it was to be on the road. Though they had reached the iron mine early before the sunset, Natsu hadn’t caught much sleep. It took some time to adjust to the cold, and the howling of the wolves at night which had woken him up too many times.

Finished eating the meat, he took a drink from a waterskin. His throat felt dry from talking so much – Lucy had wanted to hear a story after a story, and when Natsu asked her to tell something instead, she’d just shaken her head and told her life wasn’t interesting enough for him to hear. Natsu didn’t quite believe it – what was exciting for her, was dull and normal for him and vice versa, but he respected his choice of not opening up about her life before.

She had been strangely quiet ever since they left the College, her bubbliness suddenly gone. Whatever she was going through, Natsu didn’t want to pressure her to talk about it. He was content enough to have her laugh at the funniest parts of his stories. Maybe she just saved the energy for training instead of speaking.

Lucy stood next to him, notching another arrow on the string of her bow. She had been practising through their every break, and there was no end to her enthusiasm in sight. Even though she balanced her training by casting spells while they walked, and shooting with her bow meanwhile her magicka restored, exhaustion was something she had to keep an eye on. Sometimes excitement made one ignore the signs of fatigue.

Compared to yesterday, today had been far from easy. As Natsu had said, the faster route was barely a path. Most of the time there wasn’t any, and they had to walk on wherever surface their feet didn’t slip on. Halfway through the day, the frozen plains ended where a thick, endless-seeming forest began. Many times Natsu questioned why in Sheogorath’s name he’d chosen to go there, but the absence of other travellers reminded him of the perk of his insane plan.

He was damn sure he’d buy a bottle or two of warm mead when they’d reach Windhelm.

“Look! A rabbit!”

Lucy’s muffled shriek made Natsu turn his gaze away from the sky. In the direction where her arrow pointed bounced a small rabbit, as white as the snow. Lucy released the fully drawn string, but the arrow missed, and the creature ran back into the bushes it had come from.

“Damn”, Lucy muttered, running to pick up her arrow. “I’m not a fan of rabbit stew, but I wanted to see how the paralysis spell works.”

Despite her industrious training, she hadn’t caught anything living yet. Lucy mentioned yesterday that she didn’t want to use living creatures as her targets unless she needed to kill them for food. She was convinced that some hunted the foxes, rabbits and goats only for the fun of it, leaving their kills for the vultures.

However, if she wanted to experience her bow’s enchantment in action, she needed to shoot on something else than dead trees.

“You better try it on something bigger”, Natsu advised as Lucy returned with her arrow, nocking it on the string. “One shot is enough to kill a rabbit, so the spell wouldn’t be very useful.”

Lucy smirked and turned her bow towards him. “Wouldn’t you mind demonstrating it for me?”

Playfully frowning, Natsu stared at her while chewing the meat. It took him a while to swallow it, allowing him to speak again.

“You mean shooting me?”

“Just a scratch.”

Natsu chuckled. Lucy’s dark sense of humour was slowly starting to reveal below her sweet-tempered endeavour. He raised his hands to the level of his shoulders, and pretending to be shot, he froze his limbs and fell down from the rock into the snow.

“Like this?” he asked.

“Yeah, just like that.”

Natsu laid in the frozen ground for a while, letting his tired spine stretch as he watched the clouds floating on the purple sky. Crows sang their discord songs in the trees before flitting from their perches, flying across the treetops in Natsu’s vision. He chuckled, suddenly remembering how he used to think as a kid that the crows had drunk lots of booze, thus giving them their raspy voice, like dad had.

Though he’d liked to rest there a moment longer, the cold began to creep through his cloak into his bones, forcing him to get back up.

“I’m gonna take a leak”, Natsu grunted as he rose from the ground, wiping snow from his black robes. “Be back in a moment.”

He wasn’t sure if Lucy even registered, her focus on aiming her bow to the perfect spot in her target tree. Shrugging, Natsu headed into the forest.

He stopped in front of a dead pine, beginning to unlace his trousers as his fingers froze. He couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling of being watched, and he was pretty sure he’d walked far enough from Lucy.

Then an arrow flew past his head, whistling as it struck the tree.

“Damn you, Lucy!” he shouted and glanced back, the playfulness in his tone hiding his slight annoyment. “Careful with that –“

He dodged fast as another arrow flew straight at him – a bit too late. The tip tore through his robes, scratching his shoulder and then falling to the ground. Natsu grit his teeth at the burning pain stinging on his skin, blood flowing down his elbow.

For a split second he thought Lucy had gone insane and flipped, but then he realized that a shot from her bow would’ve paralyzed him already.

Swearing silently, he grabbed his shoulder and cast a quick healing spell to slow down the bleeding. His eyes searched the darkening forest, rapidly looking for where the arrow had come from – or the one who’d shot it. He turned to the right, his breath coming to a halt.

There stood a dark figure between the trees.

A figure with a fully loaded bow pointing at his head.

When confusion attempted to freeze his limbs, his instincts took over, forcing him to roll sidewards right before the stranger shot again. Quick as a snake, he got up and sprinted closer – a distance was an archer’s advantage he wouldn’t grant. He formed a fireball in his hands and threw it at the figure, but his spell dissolved into the stranger’s magical ward.

“Hey! What the fuck do you want?” Natsu shouted. “Can’t a man take a fucking piss in peace, you sick stalking fuck!?”

Backing off after dispelling his fire, the stranger halted and gazed at him for a second, as if something was wrong. Had they mistaken? Shot a person instead of a deer, or what? Why’d they just stand there, not saying a word if that was so?

Not understanding why they’d stopped, Natsu took a brief look at the attacker – black robes with no recognizable symbols, their figure short and small. A large hood veiled their face, hiding whatever intentions they had, and they intended not to tell.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble, so we can just let this pass if –“

Then stranger pulled a dagger from their belt, drawing their arm far back into a strike, not giving Natsu any time to react – he’d given them a chance to back off, but they hadn’t taken it.

They’d take his life instead.

But he wouldn’t let them.

Suddenly, the attacker’s movement came to a perfect stop as green, faint light enveloped them. Their limp, frozen legs gave up and the dagger fell from the opened fingers.

‘Lucy’s paralysis spell.’

Natsu caught the attacker’s falling dagger from the blade, spun it around to grab it from the hilt and pushed the stranger against the closest tree. Locking their body down with his bleeding arm, he swung the dagger forward with his other hand, the strike landing into their neck through the gate of collarbones.

As the sharp blade sunk into the attacker’s flesh, Natsu got to stare right into their large, pitch-black elven eyes as life fled them – eyes he somehow knew.

Natsu held the light body tight as he pulled the dagger from their neck, turning his face away as blood sprayed from the wound. The attacker gasped for breath, whimpering in pain with a voice so high and soft it could only belong to a young woman. The green light around her vanished as the paralysis spell wore off. Her trembling hands rose to her throat, pressuring the bleeding wound as Natsu let her go.

The woman dropped to the ground and curled to her side, an arrow sticking from the middle of her back. Natsu’s stomach twisted as he watched the pool of blood spreading in the snow beneath her neck. He had missed the artery, leaving her to linger instead of a quick and clean death.

The snow crunched behind him as steps closed in – Natsu didn’t need to look to know it was Lucy. Silence fell as she stopped to stare at the macabre sight. If not for her quick reaction, it would be him bleeding on the snow instead. Natsu would thank her later, but now he felt way too empty to say anything.

Still failing to calm his shocked heart, he put his foot on the stranger’s throat and rolled her around. Her hood fell down, revealing her amber curls. Weighing down the wound with blood soaking on his boot, he locked eyes with the woman again.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asked quietly, the pauses between his words long and intimidating.

She just smiled, that damn wicked bitch.

“Natsu”, he heard Lucy say behind him. “She’s…”

“G-guess I… under… e-estimated y… you”, she stuttered, couching blood. It flowed down on her chin as a thin trail, and colour escaped her light brown skin. “A b-boy too… p-pretty to be a… killer, I thought… I thought…”

Though her dark eyes grew unfocused, she kept her gaze locked with Natsu’s to her last breath. Natsu stepped away from her as her eyes finally slipped closed, her suffering coming to an end – but the emptiness in his chest stayed.

“What happened?” Lucy asked, gently touching his wounded shoulder. “You’re hurt?”

“Just a scratch”, Natsu said, shoving away her hand. “I just don’t understand. Out of nowhere, she just…”

Lucy looked at the woman’s face, the twists of pain now melted away from her features. “She was in Fort Amol. The one who tried to seduce you.”

The woman was a Wood Elf for sure, judging from her small shape. He had just thought of them to be better archers. “She was?” Natsu asked, his memory from that day clouded by his drunken state.

“Guess she didn’t take rejection too well…”

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. Rejection? She’d been the one who’d sat in his lap, mistaken his talk about his scars for something else?

“Now I remember… But it couldn’t be that. That’d be just stupid. Besides she found someone else to warm her bed for the night, so…”

Natsu crouched by the still-warm corpse, pulling her over to go through the pockets of her black robes. He found a piece of paper and a small, blue bottle. He spread the paper on the snow only to find the text inked in black, any clue it had held now gone.

“Damn”, he cursed and stood up. Pain shot through his shoulder – though the cut hadn’t been deep, arrow wounds were always the fucking worst. “This just doesn’t make any sense.”

It had all happened so fast that his mind couldn’t fully follow, his thoughts running in desperate circles of trying to figure out why would someone want to kill him. Besides, why had she hesitated for a moment before drawing her dagger? Something was wrong, and Natsu couldn’t grasp what it was, and it wrecked his nerves.

“What’s this?” Lucy said, lifting a backpack from behind a rock. She opened the bag and pulled a black rope from it, giving it to Natsu. His eyes widened at the sight.

“That’s a magic-blocking rope”, he said, familiar to the enchantments woven into the fabric. “The Imperials used this kind of when they captured me and Igneel. Could it be…”

“She tried to capture you?”

It could’ve been her intention. Was she an Imperial spy? Could the Legion still be after him, even after Ulfric had pardoned his crimes? But she was a Wood Elf and had all the reasons to hate the Empire, so it couldn’t be the case.

“Us”, Natsu said suddenly. “Now I get it. Fuck, it’s even worse than I thought.”

Lucy gave him a long, anxious gaze. “What?”

There was only one thing it could be.

“The Dark Brotherhood”, he whispered. “They’re after us. For sticking our head into their territory, that Aretino boy thing. They’re pissed. She was probably their associate… Not a full ledged member… Probably sent her to capture us and take to them…”

Lucy swallowed, guilt dancing in her eyes. It had been her idea, and if she thought there wouldn’t be any consequences, she’d been mistaken. Almost deadly.

“What makes you think she’s not a full member of the Brotherhood?” Lucy asked silently, looking at the blood-stained clothes the woman wore.

A painful lump coalesced in his throat, making it near impossible to form any words. He just stared at the person he’d just killed, and couldn’t recall ever feeling as bad afterwards as now. He squeezed the rope in his hands, its braids blocking the flow of magicka in his blood which now ran so damn cold.

“If she was, she wouldn’t have failed.”

The darkness began to fall into the forest. Lucy picked up the small blue bottle Natsu had tossed away, investigating it in the last rays of the sun which filtered through the trees.

“Natsu”, Lucy said suddenly. As he turned his head towards her, she crouched by the woman’s corpse, pulling an arrow from her quiver. Its tip was dipped in dark liquid, and so was done to every other arrow. “This bottle, I think…”

“What?”

She took a deep breath before she spoke.

“It's poison.”

Chapter Text

The wind whistled across the stone roofs of Windhelm, blowing down soft flakes of snow to fall on the mage’s blood-stained robes. His vaporized breath rose towards the starlit sky in short, bated puffs. Too weary to move around, shivering limbs and clattering teeth were his only effort to stay warm while waiting at the empty, silent marketplace.

If one had to summarize a man’s frustration into one thing, it was getting dragged into an apothecary in the middle of the night instead of drinking some mead in a warm tavern.

“Come on, they’re not going to open,” Natsu sighed as Lucy knocked on the door for the fourth time. “I swear I’m fine!”

Gritting her teeth, Lucy paused for a moment before knocking again, hard enough to make the hinges rattle. “And I swear that I’m going to pick this fucking lock if they don’t open. You’ve been poisoned, and I’m not going to rest before you’re cured.”

Natsu frowned, aware of the attention the noise would eventually draw. When they had arrived in the city a moment ago, the night watch had opened the gates for them before heading to solve a fight among the homeless. As most of the murders and burglaries happened at night, the guards didn’t have much time to spare for the travellers passing by.

But at the rate Lucy kept banging at the apothecary’s door, the guards would surely pay them some attention sooner or later. Just as if things couldn’t get any worse, spending the next night in jail would be more than fitting.

“It was just a scratch. Scratch!” he emphasized, not hiding his irritation anymore. “There was barely any blood.”

Lucy glanced at the torn fabric on Natsu’s left shoulder, now stained by drying trickles of dark crimson liquid. The healing spell he had managed to cast had only stopped the bleeding, but the wound needed to be cleaned and bandaged soon. While he didn’t want to visit Windhelm’s court wizard again, he didn’t want to lose his arm either. It had been through enough hardships already.

“A scratch is enough to let the poison in,” Lucy answered, the furrow on her forehead deepening. “And yes, there was poison in every arrowhead I found. Even in the one with blood in it.”

Natsu sighed again. If not for the shooting pain in his shoulder, or the exhaustion burning his legs, or the terrible hunger gnawing his stomach, he was feeling fine. Relatively speaking. He didn’t feel anything that could be related to the poison, which he found as relieving as he found it scary.

They had left the murder scene quickly without any ceremonies, except for covering the girl’s corpse with her cape. Burning the body would’ve drawn unwanted attention at night. The sabrecats and bears of that area would dispose of her remains through natural means.

The twilight had descended soon afterwards, and walking through the thick, dark forest with only magelight as their guide had been beyond exhausting. The movement had kept the cold at bay, but now Natsu was sure sensation would never return to his toes and fingers if he wouldn’t get indoors right away. At this point, the cold would kill him faster than any poison ever would.

Natsu leaned his back to the stone wall. “I’ve said a hundred times that I’m just fine –“

“Some poisons are slow to act,” Lucy snapped. “It might take hours, even days for the symptoms to hit. That’s why we need an antidote, even if you ‘feel just fine’ now.”

As he’d realized before, there was no way to talk her out of her decisions. ‘You’re as stubborn as a damn goat,’ he thought but found it better not to say it out loud. Calling her a goat would be a guaranteed way to get slapped.

Or worse, yelled at.

In the dragon language.

Yet still, her determination seemed to cause more problems than it would eventually solve. If it had been Igneel who’d try to break into the Aretino residence to talk to that tormented boy, Natsu could’ve easily told him to back off from such a stupid, risky thing. Except that in the past, risk had equalled fun, but it no longer did. With Lucy, he couldn’t say a damn word against her. At least a word heavy enough to change her mind.

He didn’t really know why.

The banner swung in the wind, creaking a haunting melody to fill the silence. Natsu eyed at the mortar and pestle carved into the wood, unable to make sense out of the letters beneath the symbol. Whatever the shop’s name even was, it didn’t matter. The only place he wanted to be at was Candlehearth Inn.

“They’re not going to open,” Natsu stated again, calm but annoyed, causing Lucy to turn towards him and lock her fiery gaze with his.

“And I’m not going to find you dead next morning,” she answered, her quiet voice shivering. Whether it was from the cold or the fading shock, Natsu couldn’t tell, but he had to look away. Her stare persisted on him, as serious and stern as a stone.

Then, finally, the door opened.

“We’re not open at this hour of the day,” said a young man who peeked from the doorway, candlelight fluttering on his ridiculous sideburns. “Come tomorrow, please.”

“No,” Lucy told and put her feet in between the door before the man closed it in front of her. “My friend’s been poisoned.”

The man analyzed them both with his stare, and asked, “Really?”

It was easy to understand why the alchemist didn’t quite believe them. A poisoned person would be vomiting on all fours, trembling like a fallen leaf and their skin would turn green. Natsu wasn’t anything like that.

“He’s been shot by an arrow dipped in this,” Lucy said and pulled the small bottle from her pocket. “We have to find out what it is, and how to cure it.”

“Look, I’m just an apprentice here,” the man said. “My master, Nurelion, is old and sick and needs his rest. He shouldn’t be disturbed until it’s absolutely necessary. He can be rather… ill-tempered.”

For a brief moment, Natsu wondered what would’ve Igneel done? He would’ve laughed and dragged him to have a drink instead. There’s nothing that mead wouldn’t heal, and if there was, death was the only remedy. Igneel never made a fuss out of nothing. Even when Natsu was bit by that giant frostbite spider, Igneel had remained calm, consoling him he’d eventually make it.

And Igneel had been right. He made it through, despite at its worst he was just lying on the ground, spasming as the fever spiked. Natsu wasn’t proud of that scar for no reason. He had never been so sick in his entire life, as if his blood had frozen up in his veins. He’d rather travel by cart for a month than be bit by a spider again.

“A dead customer is very bad for the custom, as I’m sure you know,” Lucy said after a short silence, drawing him back to the present moment. “Because if he doesn’t make it, I’ll surely spread the word that –“

“Alright, alright,” the man answered, submitting to her will, and stepped aside. “Let’s… Let’s take a look at it.”

She truly had her way with the words, it seemed.

Lucy nudged the mage gently forward, urging him to follow the alchemist. Natsu stepped over the threshold into the dark store, the scents of a thousand herbs making him dizzy. Lucy followed him and closed the door behind her.

A fire burned in the hearth in the corner of the lower floor, and Natsu had to force himself to stay put. He’d do anything to jump in front of the flames, or even into the flames, but warming up too fast could have fatal results. As frostbitten, numb limbs couldn’t feel any pain, it was easy to burn them by accident. Besides, warming up too fast would cause the freezing blood to rush straight into the heart, and stop it in the worst case.

Natsu wiped his nose into his sleeve, his cheeks tingling from the warm air. He stayed behind and gazed at the bottles and ingredients resting on the shelf behind the counter.

“Nurelion?” the apprentice hollered to the upstairs. “We’ve got customers.”

Silence fell to the store, but then an elderly High Elf walked downstairs. He was dressed in a red tunic and long, brown wool socks.

“What is it?” Nurelion asked, turning his wrinkled face towards the mages. “Can’t you read a sign? We’re open from dawn to dusk, you fools.”

“This cannot wait to the morning,” Lucy told, her tone so commanding that it was almost a shout. “He’s been poisoned with this.”

The High Elf glanced at his apprentice, his glare as cold as ice for having his sleep disturbed. But as an elderly shopkeeper, he must know how important good manners were to keep the shop in the good light.  

The master alchemist took the bottle from Lucy’s palm, and harshly pulled away the cork. He brought it below his nose and sniffed aloud. Natsu couldn’t help but wonder what kind of an idiot huffed poison, but then realized that as an alchemist he had to inhale them all the time anyway.

“Smells like… Gleamblossom, for sure. Impstool, perhaps, and definitely nirnroot,” Nurelion listed, then closed the bottle. “A potent mixture. Expensive. These ingredients are often used in paralysis poisons. But since you’re still walking, it’s either a dud or then it lingers. Never heard of  it -”

A violent burst of cough caught the alchemist out of sudden. He banged his fist into his chest, bending forward in an attempt to clear his throat as his breath twisted into a whistling afternote. The apprentice hurried to fetch water or tonic for his master. He put the mug on the old man’s lips, urging him to drink.

“What are your symptoms, young man?” the apprentice asked while he rubbed the master’s upper back. A sip from the mug eased the cough, and Natsu realized it wasn’t just water, but something stronger.  “Nausea? Numbness of limbs?”

The master alchemist sat down on a bench after the apprentice had given him his medicine. The apprentice closed the bottle he had poured from, a label titled ‘Nurelion’s cough mixture’ signed on its side. From the way Nurelion got weary and the petulance melted from his face, it couldn’t be just honey and anise.

Natsu was getting so pissed off that for a moment he considered asking for a sip.

“Incredible thirst for mead, if it counts as nausea,” Natsu began his list and grinned. “Numbness? Sure, froze my dick off out there.”

The master let out a chuckle. “Better let her warm it up, then.”

The younger man sneered, finding the master’s comment just as funny as Lucy – not at all. Almost waiting for her to whack him, he began to regret having said it in the first place. But well, shit happened. He couldn’t always know what to say. And especially now, he couldn’t really care less.

“So, he should’ve been practically paralyzed the moment he was hit, is that right? Then why didn’t it work?” Lucy asked, clearly trying to switch the focus from the embarrassing joke to the actual problem at hand.

“It was just a damn scratch anyway -”

“If there was blood, it should’ve worked,” Nurelion interrupted him, grinning again. The old man was high as a cloud. “Are you a vampire? Vampires are resistant to poison.”

“What?” Natsu asked, half shocked how one could even suspect that. Vampires had gleaming red eyes, sharp fangs and sickly pallor. He couldn’t look that bad. “Of course not. And when I was bit by a giant frostbite spider, I felt fucking horrible for a month. Was pretty sure that I’d just die.”

“Spiders are venomous,” Nurelion answered and laughed a bit. “But plants like gleamblossom or nightshade are poisonous. There’s a difference between a botanical poison, which affects when ingested, touched, or inhaled, and animal venom, which is directly injected into the unfortunate victim’s bloodstream. They are different kind of substances, though both are toxic, it could be that for some reason plant-driven poisons do not affect you. Conversely, you might be more vulnerable to venomous insects and other creatures. One shouldn’t suffer a month from a bugbite.”

Natsu wanted to point out that having his side opened by the spider’s mandibles wasn’t just ‘a bugbite’  but decided to keep quiet. He was quite impressed how the alchemist managed to maintain such a monologue in a well-drugged state.

“But how?” Natsu asked, brows furrowing.

Nurelion shrugged. “How could I know?”

“Because you’re, what, like a very old alchemist?”

The alchemist failed to retort as another burst of cough wiped over him again. The younger man stroked the master’s back again, paying Natsu a judging stare.

“Natsu, manners,” Lucy scolded as she crossed her arms on her chest.

The mage sighed again. “Sorry.”

They waited for a while until Nurelion stopped coughing. Natsu wondered if his sickness was caused by decades of smelling poisonous herbs. Every profession had a downside.

“There are still mysteries in this world to be unravelled, it seems,” the apprentice said then. “Without further studies, we can’t tell why the poison didn’t work. But since you’re still alive and walking, you’ll most likely make it. Come back tomorrow if any symptoms occur, and we’ll get them cured. I must get Nurelion back to rest now.”

Natsu almost sprinted to the door, never been so happy to leave a place than now.

“Thank you for your time, and sorry to bother you in the middle of a night,” Lucy said and pulled a coin purse from her bag. She poured around twenty coins on her palm and offered them to the apprentice. “Here’s for your trouble.”

Hesitantly, the man received the gold. They hadn’t sold anything, but it would never be smart to refuse a coin. Natsu kept his hand on the door’s handle, waiting for Lucy to follow him.

“Thank you,” the apprentice said as he began to lead the master back to the upper floor. “Stay safe.”

The wind slammed the door shut as they stepped to the cold outside. The alchemist’s coughs echoed faintly through the stone walls, fading as they stood there collecting their thoughts.

“I told you I was just fine,” Natsu said, taking a breath before he set forth. “Come on, the inn’s that way.”

 He halted as he realized Lucy wasn’t following. He turned around, seeing her still standing in front of the apothecary’s door, her hand gripping her other arm.

“I just… I got worried,” she whispered, and raised her gaze from the ground. “Very worried.”

Natsu nodded. It was too dark to see her true emotions, but he was sure her worry had been genuine. But while her words warmed his heart, he couldn’t help feeling like Lucy was only worried about him because she wouldn’t survive on her own. If he’d die, what would happen to her? Would she survive this trial alone?

“It’s okay.”

Lucy didn’t say anything back, and so they walked in silence through the empty, snow-covered streets. Though a thousand thoughts drifted inside Natsu’s mind, exhaustion kept him from putting them into words.

Yet, an intuition of sort led his thoughts back to the nightshades his mother had eaten while expecting him. Mother had never spoken about it, but Zeref had told him what happened.

There was no way mother could’ve been immune to the poison because it had made her very sick. Zeref, even at that age, had been skilled enough as an alchemist to save her life with the right mix of herbs and spells. When Lucy had asked, Natsu had said he and his mother survived by a miracle, but it had only been half a truth.

He’d never admit it out loud, but Zeref, in all of his brilliancy, was almost like a miracle incarnated.

Whether his possible immunity to poison was a result of the nightshade poisoning, or a side-effect of Zeref’s effort to save their mother, it couldn’t be known. Since his mother was dead and gone, and his brother lost into thin air, the truth might stay forever unsolved. And even if some alchemist could figure it out by examining him, he’d rather not know. He wasn’t a test subject, even though his case would be unique of a kind.

All that mattered was that it had saved them both this time.

The sounds of a fight carried over to them as they reached the plaza opening beneath the entrance. The hold guards were still trying to break apart the fight between the homeless. For a brief second Natsu wondered what they were fighting over for, but the thought disappeared as fast as he made it to the warm inn.

Lucy went to rent them a room, and Natsu stayed behind, too tired to talk. The joyful chatter and singing were beginning to fade out as the drunkest patrons headed to their beds. Natsu stripped his blood-stained cloak, worried that it might attract some unwanted attention. But, if soldiers and warriors and thugs could all stay in the same inn and nobody minded about the blood on their hands, why would anyone care about his?

The cold began to melt away, but he still couldn’t relax. Maybe the impact of the ambush stuck in his mind, because he still couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. How long had the attacker been following them anyway? For the whole day, and he hadn’t seen anything?

Rolling the cloak into his arms, Natsu glanced over his shoulder to the smoky corner of the tavern. His heart skipped a beat. A figure sat there in the shades, their face covered with a hood, but Natsu was perfectly sure that their stare was locked on him.

“This way,” Lucy said suddenly, gently pulling him from the sleeve. Natsu turned to follow her down to the corridor leading to their room. Her hand stayed on his shoulder for a moment as she studied the wound through the tattered fabric. “Gods, that’s just a scratch to you? It has to be cleaned and bandaged. Don’t want to catch another infection, don’t you?”

Sighing, Natsu looked back one last time. The figure had disappeared as if they hadn’t existed in the first place. Shaking his head, he blinked, wondering if he’d been just seeing things.

And no matter how tired he was, Natsu couldn’t sleep an eyeful that night.

Three days later, Lucy was finally convinced that Natsu would live, but the strangling feeling around her throat still wouldn’t fade.

The sun was setting over the vale, and the rushing waterfall beside her almost silenced her thoughts. They had made it out of the volcanic tundra today and camped near the Darkwater River, which cascaded down the famous cliffs dividing the holds of Eastmarch and Rift. The river drained far from Lake Geir, and Ivarstead was located on the western shores of the lake. By following the water, they’d eventually reach their destination.

Natsu’s original plan was to visit Fort Amol and spend a night in the castle’s warmth, but that plan was crushed when one of the necromancers turned out to be an undercover assassin. Though Felrys had been Igneel’s cousin, Natsu’s trust for his group was gone. Lucy never really trusted them in the first place. It didn’t change much. It just meant they’d have to spend another night in the old, conjured tent, but Lucy had found it quite cosy.

Lucy sat cross-legged on the dry grass, swirling the quill in her fingers. She had written only a few lines for today’s journal entry, and struggled to find more. Sometimes the words flowed to the paper on their own, but sometimes the barrenness consumed her and left her pages blank. And for the last days, barrenness was the exact word to describe the atmosphere she was in.

She glanced over her shoulder. Smoke rose from the campfire at a small distance away as the mage cooked the mudcrab they had caught earlier today. She had refused to let him out of her sight, still fearing the poison’s delayed effects. It had clearly begun to piss him off, and he looked content to be there alone for a while.

He had conjured the tent while she had been away, and Lucy was so glad she had found the spell instructions in the nightstand. Erza’s tent had taken half an hour to erupt, but this one took only a few seconds to be summoned. It was smaller than Erza’s, but just as warm and comfortable.

The wind rustled in the bright, colourful leaves of the ancient oak behind her. Lucy closed the journal and leaned against the pale trunk, letting her gaze rest in the beauty of the sunset. The cliffs were spared little of the warmth of the volcanic tundra beneath them, as the wind kept whipping the old stones day and night.

She’d been listening to the wind so much lately.

Silence stuck in her throat like a spiky thistle. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t find the right words to say. She knew Natsu struggled with killing the girl, and in some way, she understood what he was going through. Part of the blame was on her as well. Though she hadn’t been the one to strike the knife through the girl’s throat, she’d been the one to who'd shot her to the back.

Missing the rabbit had been a wonderful strike of luck, in an ironical sense. She had chased it for a while, and then heard the commotion in the forest, instantly realizing something was wrong. Things could’ve gone differently if the girl had shot her first, and Lucy failed to feel guilty about surviving. Guilt had struck her for other reasons.

As she’d watched how Natsu kept staring into the flames, quiet as if his conscience had muted him, Lucy couldn’t help but blame herself for not listening to him. He had warned her about messing with the Dark Brotherhood, but she hadn’t believed they were that good, that efficient, that cunning. She barely believed they even existed. If she just could’ve let that poor Aretino boy be, it could’ve spared them from a lot of mess, and a lot of blood. It seemed that mess and blood belonged together in the wild world outside Helgen’s walls.

‘What a bloody mess has my life become.’

Remorse wasn’t the only thing that was weighing him down. Natsu was convinced that they were being followed, and it was driving him into a nervous wreck. Lucy wasn’t sure if he had slept at all for days. When she went to sleep, he said he’d stay up for a while, but when she woke up, he was still awake.

There hadn’t even been any trouble for the past few days, except for a swarm of mudcrabs Lucy had accidentally disturbed this morning, mistaking them for some riverside rocks. The crabs had been more of a nuisance instead of a real danger. Her arrows had deflected from their hard shells, but Natsu’s fire spells had quickly finished them off, their protective carapaces turning into deathly boiling pots upon his flames.

The thought made her suddenly hungry.

Lucy took a deep breath, rose and stole one last glance at the landscape, knowing that the fall foliage would soon be gone. Today was the second day of Hearthfire, and winter was coming fast. And with the dragons flying in the skies and lurking in the mountains, it would be a dark, long winter. Possibly darkest in a thousand years.

Jumping over the smaller streams running in the stone, she made her way to the camp. The sound of gushing waters could still be heard, but not as deafening as closer to the waterfalls. Burning wood crackled in the fire Natsu had made, his face veiled behind the smoke rising skywards. Hollow parts of a mudcrab’s shell piled up the ground at the rate Natsu threw them away.

“Steamed mudcrab is actually quite tasty,” Natsu commented as he chewed the crab’s meat. “Just slow as shit to eat. I spared some good parts for you. Here.”

Natsu took some red-boiled crab legs from the small kettle they had found and offered them to her as she sat down. She received them with a faint smile, but put them down for a moment to release the bow from her back. The leather strap had chafed the skin on her shoulder, leaving behind an aching imprint she carried with pride. She opened the laces on her robes to let her skin breathe.

“I’ll borrow this,” Lucy said and picked up the glass dagger resting on Natsu’s lap. He nodded as a reply.

Water splashed from the claw as Lucy tried to crack it open with the tip of the knife. Natsu had shown her earlier how to expose the meat from the shell, but it would most likely take her a few more tries to learn. Not minding his quiet chuckles, Lucy kept trying, eventually managed to have a few nibbles to eat.

“I’ve been thinking,” Natsu started suddenly, causing Lucy to raise her head from the meal towards him. Awkwardly, she wiped the crab fluids flowing down her chin to her sleeve. “The alchemist in Windhelm said that the poison was expensive. She most likely didn’t buy it herself. It just makes it more clear that she worked for the Brotherhood.”

“Makes sense,” Lucy mumbled and swallowed. A little moment alone must’ve helped him to sort out his thoughts, or at least to get him talking about it. 

“When she realized that the poison didn’t work as it was supposed to, she panicked. Her plan was failing. When she drew out that dagger of course I thought she’d kill me.”

“It still doesn’t change the fact that she would’ve killed you if –“

“That’s the thing,” Natsu interrupted and gazed at her, his eyes serious, “she wouldn’t have killed me. Her job was to capture us. Not kill us.”

Though they could only rely on their own assumptions, they had managed to form a clear picture of what happened and why. The Dark Brotherhood found out they had accepted a contract that belonged to them, and they didn’t appreciate that. Then the Brotherhood had hired an outlaw who knew their faces to track them down and capture them.

What would’ve happened if she’d succeeded? Lucy didn’t even want to know.

“I just killed her anyway,” Natsu continued. “I had this one moral line to live by, and it was to never kill the innocent. That’s what Igneel taught me. When I’ve killed someone, it has always been self-defence. Was it now?”

Lucy took a moment to finish her small meal. She wiped her face again and drank from her waterskin, swallowed before she answered.

“That was still self-defence, even though she didn’t mean to kill you. You have a right to defend yourself, and me, from being dragged into some filthy dungeon for some brutal interrogation.”

“Yeah, bet it’s better to feel like shit than be tortured alive,” Natsu said. “Because they didn’t kill us right ahead, that’s what they had in mind.”

“You don’t have to feel like shit,” Lucy consoled. “You saved us.”

“But if the Brotherhood’s after us, they won’t give up so easily. They’ll try again with bigger weapons.”

Lucy couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t already tried? Natsu had mentioned seeing someone shady in the Candlehearth Inn, but that could’ve been anyone.

“It’s still possible that this isn’t related to the Brotherhood at all,” Lucy reminded. “Maybe she just wanted to sleep with you really bad.”

Natsu chuckled dryly.

“All that effort just to get disappointed again? I don’t think so.”

“You know, women can be really crazy when they want something.”

Natsu buried his face into his hands, a silence signing that he’d rather not comment on that subject. Still, Lucy thought it’d be better to be chased by a desperate girl than a group of assassins. Natsu probably didn’t feel the same.

“One thing still creeps me out,” he began, raising his head from his palms and resting his chin on his knees. “How did the Dark Brotherhood know we’d been in contact with the mages in Fort Amol? That was days before we talked to Aventus.”

“They have little birds everywhere, it seems,” Lucy answered. “It’s just my speculation, but what if Aventus was one of those birds?”

“What do you mean?”

“He said he’d been doing the sacrament for a long time, and no-one had come. What if the Dark Brotherhood set the whole thing up to find out if anyone would actually pick it up? And we were unfortunate enough to fall for it.”

Natsu stared at her for a moment.

“I don’t really know,” he sighed. “I don’t really fucking know.”

Lucy believed that things, even this, would solve out eventually. Maybe it was foolish to remain optimistic, but if her choices were optimism or insanity, she’d choose the first. Even if it took a little bit of forcing to convince herself that things would turn out for the better. 

“We are safe now,” Lucy said quietly. “It’s going to be alright.”

“You know that’s a lie.”

His answer forced her to swallow the consoling words she’d tried to form. She looked at him, the cost of pain dimming out the shades of green in his eyes. He lowered his gaze to fire slowly going out, and picked up some sticks from the pile of wood he’d gathered earlier. A question appeared on Lucy’s mind as she watched him snapping the twigs in half and feeding them to the campfire.

“Just wondering, how was your first kill?”

Natsu froze for a moment. Flames licked the stick he was putting into the fire, reaching his fingertips before he realized to throw it in. He appeared focused, as if trying to remember when was the first time his hands stained in human blood.

“You mean who it was, or how it happened?” Natsu asked.

“Yeah. Both,” Lucy answered.

“Well,” he started and paused for a breath, “it was… was I fourteen, or just turned fifteen? Anyway, I’d been in the College for about two years. Igneel had gotten a hint of an artefact hidden in an abandoned castle. A powerful soul gem he needed for something. So, we went there and bumped into a group of necromancers performing some ritual to retrieve the artefact. They noticed us and attacked.”

“Were there many of them?”

“Three. Igneel killed two and left the third one for me to handle. He was a High Elf who used shock spells. My magic depleted in an instant, but I managed to stab him to the neck with my dagger. He was arrogant. Underestimated me, I guess.”

Lucy remained silent, able to imagine how a High Elf would look down to a young boy, with fatal results. Natsu didn’t look that dangerous with his pink hair and soft features, but Lucy had already learned that looks were deceiving. As the girl’s last words had been, he was a boy too pretty to be a killer.

But weren’t killers supposed to be more like barbarian bandits, like Lucy had always been taught to beware? There wasn’t anything in him which scared her. Not even the body count on his shoulders, whether it’d be high or low. She didn’t care to know the numbers if he kept any, but how did he take it?

Maybe not so easily as Lucy had previously thought.

“How’d you feel then?” she asked softly. “You were so young.”

He fell silent.

“You know, I had to watch my dad butcher our animals since I was, I don’t know, a baby?  And when I was old enough he taught me how to do it myself. Where to hold them and where to strike the knife to kill them fast and painless,” Natsu said then. “In the end, it wasn’t that bad to kill a chicken or a goat because it meant we got some meat on the table instead of the same old potatoes and carrots.”

Feeling a twist in her stomach, Lucy looked down to the empty crab shells in her hands. “I could never even watch. Just hearing the pigs squeal as they were killed was horrible.”

“My dad said that one has to know where the food comes from, and that slaughtering a pig is the same as picking apples.”

“It isn’t, really.”

“Yeah, the apples don’t bleed,” Natsu said. “Have I told you about our dogs?”

“Mentioned them, yes.”

“Well, we always had a couple of dogs, because dad used to sell their pups to hunters. As hunting dogs, you know?” Natsu asked, and Lucy nodded. “But sometimes the pups came out deformed and had to be killed. As well as when the older dogs became too old, got injured or sick, they had to be killed, too. That was different. Having to put down one of our dogs, damn, I cried every time.”

As Lucy had noticed how he cared for Happy, the conjured cat, she couldn’t even imagine how horrible it must’ve been to kill one of his dogs. Even if they were lingering in pain.

“Shit. Your dad put you do that?”

Natsu nodded. “He called it a responsibility. Dad said that once he’d be dead and I’d be the man in the house, I’d have to take care of the animals. It included finishing them off when the time came, whether I’d like it or not.”

Lucy stayed quiet for a moment, his words making her former life sound so easy. Clean, sterile, at least. After a workday, she used to go to the market with her mother and buy whatever food they needed. She never paid a thought for those who’d produced it.

“Back then I had always thought that killing a man would be as bad as killing a dog. I was wrong. It was much worse,” Natsu told and paused. “Killing that High Elf, I pretty much freaked out. It was over quick. I remember looking down, realizing that I’m standing in a pool of their blood, my shoes soaked red. It was in my hands, too.”

Lucy paid him an empathic gaze. “I know… That’s just a terrible moment. It can’t be washed away, and it doesn’t fade either. It just sticks until you get used to it.”

Natsu chuckled, but there was no joy in it.

“I’m glad Igneel was there with me, reassuring me that it’s better to kill than be killed. That it was a time for the young boy to learn the rules of the world. He had learned that a long time ago.”

Lucy nodded slowly. As Igneel had been a Dark Elf, life must’ve been rough for him. A lot rougher than it needed to be.

“How old was Igneel?” Lucy asked, trying to recall the brief moment she had seen him alive. “He looked young to me.”

“Around thirty, but that’s young for an elf. And he always acted like a damn fourteen-year-old brat with his pranks and crazy ideas,” Natsu said, smiling. It was good to see him smile again. “Maybe that’s why we came along so well.”

Lucy stayed quiet for a moment. The talk about young boys brought back memories of her former life, especially one person in particular.

“Reminds me of Loke,” Lucy whispered, a wistful smile on her lips. “That lad never matured past fourteen.”

“He’s that friend of yours?”

“Was.”

A fleeting silence fell between them again. Lucy felt the mage’s eyes on her, but didn’t dare to look up from the flames. As always, the memories made the tears well up behind her eyes – it would probably take a lot of time until they wouldn’t. But she remembered how crying made him uncomfortable, and she didn’t want to cause him any more distress by her own sadness.

“I hope he died a hero’s death and ended up in Sovngarde,” she said, voice cracking as she tried to maintain the faked smile. “Picking up a fight against the dragon or sacrificing his life to save someone else. That would be like him.”

“Are you sure he’s dead?” Natsu asked suddenly.

The question froze her.

Lucy collected her breath and wiped her eyes. “He walked past the store that morning, but I didn’t see him after that.”

“What’d he look like?” the mage inquired. “I remember that a young guy with long, dark-brown hair released me from the bindings, and then ran off.”

Lucy swallowed, trying to cast away the lump in her throat. “That could’ve been Haming, his older brother. Loke was a gingerhead.”

Natsu shrugged as an apology.

“Don’t think I saw him then.”

Lucy shook her head. “He isn’t alive. I know it. When we returned to Helgen the next day… the demolition was just so complete.” Her voice faded into a whisper. “I keep thinking how my parents and everyone must’ve felt when they just… burned... to death…”

As Natsu turned his gaze into the campfire, Lucy remembered that he also burned men to death. In Embershard mine, he’d fought the bandits with fire until nothing but ashes were left. The men had screamed in excruciating pain as the flames consumed them, and there hadn’t been a single hint of remorse in Natsu’s eyes back then. But considering he had just lost his best friend, maybe he hadn’t felt anything at all, thus being able to remain so calm.

“I like to think that,” Natsu began, but paused for a moment, “that fire’s a merciful way to die. There’s no blood, and the shock kills you fast. It hurts a lot for a short while, but then you just fall into a warm sleep. The hotter the flames, the cleaner the death. Being killed by dragonfire must’ve been so quick they didn’t even realize it before they died.”

A vision of her parent’s scorched bodies holding each other flashed in Lucy’s mind. They had seen the dragon, they had been afraid. They had died afraid, just as everyone else in the town.

“I hope so. At least one thing is sure, that they’re not in pain anymore.”

“Yeah, surviving with a body burned in half is much worse. Healing the burns is the agonizing part.”

A small smile twitched on Lucy’s lips, the consolation of knowing her loved ones weren’t suffering anymore. Maybe he was right. Death was almost a bliss compared to surviving the horrors of that day, and Lucy, despite still grieving the loss, felt glad that her family and friends didn’t have to carry that burden.

The sun hid behind the faraway mountains, the warm colours of sunset disappearing as the night descended. Lucy glanced at the fire mage as his eyes slipped closed while he rested his head to his knees. Though the discussion hadn’t carried them far from the things keeping him awake, Lucy hoped he could finally get some sleep. The journey ahead of them was still long.

“You really need some rest,” Lucy told him. “You look like you’ll pass out any moment.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. I can keep a watch for tonight.”

Natsu sighed. “Okay. For a few hours. Wake me up when you get tired, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Goodnight,” Natsu said and crawled into the tent. “Don’t eat all the crabs.”

“I won’t.”

When he was gone, Lucy finally let the tears fall, but to her surprise, they no longer poured down like a waterfall. Only a few were enough to dull the sharpest ache of her grief.

As Lucy sat in front of the dying campfire, her thoughts circled around Helgen once again. Somedays the past was like a field of deep mud she kept dwelling in, unable to move forward, but if she did, she’d forget. She didn’t ever want to forget. She didn’t want to forget the lessons her father told, the songs her mother sang, the laughter of her friends.

Because when she’d forget, they would all disappear.

Lucy looked up from the flames. Through her clouded vision, she saw movement in the bushes and heard steps rustling on the fallen leaves. Instinctively, she grabbed the bow resting beside her, but before she even managed to stance herself and draw an arrow, a deer family emerged from the vegetation.

Frozen at the sight, Lucy locked her gaze with the mother deer, majestic antlers crowning its head. Two fawns followed their mother, staying close to her legs as they walked to the pool of water for a drink.

Lucy put down her weapon. Though they had already run out of bread yesterday, and the mudcrabs weren’t a filling meal, she couldn’t find it in her to kill those creatures. In silence, she watched as they disappeared back to the woods.

‘Never kill the innocent.’

And as stars lit on the darkened sky and the fire finally went out, Lucy was sure that the mage had fallen asleep. She peeked into the tent, and she’d been right. Wrapped into his bedroll, Natsu slept tight in the other side of the tent, the rest of the space spared for her.

“Natsu, I ate all the crabs,” Lucy whispered. There was no answer.

If he didn’t hear that, he’d truly been the very definition of exhausted. Some sleep wouldn’t hurt them both.

Deciding he wouldn’t wake up, even if she tried, she sneaked inside and settled down an arm’s length away from the mage. She burrowed into her bedroll, closed her eyes and was lulled asleep by the wind.

Even though he’d said otherwise, right now she felt safe.

Safe enough.

As always, rain whipped the walls of Riften when a man in a dark, tattered cloak arrived at the city gates, his journey drawing into a circle.

This was where everything had begun years ago, when he had found the study his father had left behind. The questions born during the long voyage were still left unanswered, even intensified by the current events, but if something held any answers, it had to be those documents.

He raised his eyes to the sky – he had kept an eye on it ever since the dragon attacked him in the Jerall Mountains when he returned to Skyrim. Each rumbling of thunder reminded him of the dragon’s roar, and each hustle of wind in the trees was like the beast’s wingstrike. Ghostly limbs now replaced the ones he’d lost to the dragon’s teeth, for he was a master of Alteration, and would alter his body to any limit and beyond.

Relieved that the stormy skies remained free of flying beasts for now, he lowered his gaze to the two guards standing before the closed gate. He sighed.

“Halt! Before I let you to Riften, you need to pay the visitor’s tax,” said the other man, stepping in front of him as he walked closer. “Say, a hundred gold and I’ll open the gates.”

A grin twitched on his lips. A lot had changed while he’d been away, but the corruption hadn’t gone anywhere. Why would it? It was the rock the city had been built on. Perhaps the whole country, too.

“You’re obviously a thief,” he answered, his voice rasp like saw on dry wood. “I kill thieves.”

The guard took a long, silent look at his torn body. He stood tall above the pitiful guard’s head, his face scarred and grim enough to scare any fool into submission.

“Alright, alright, there’s no need for any… violence,” the guard admitted. “I’ll let you in.”

Riften’s wooden structures gave off an old and run-down feeling as he walked into the city. Though the walls were familiar, the faces weren’t. Only a few citizens stayed outside at the late hour of the day. When the sun went down, the people of Riften withdrew to their houses and locked the doors tight. It was usually because of the thieves raiding the town at night, but now there was another thing they feared.

The word of what happened in Helgen had spread across the land, and everyone was afraid it would happen to their hometown next. And there was no guarantee it wouldn’t.

He had witnessed the utter devastation himself. Helgen was the first settlement after Cyrodiil’s border. He had headed there in search of help, only to find the whole city burned to the ground. The scenery had been so haunting he’d never seen anything as terrifying in his entire life.

The only thing more frightening than the dragons was the demolition they left in their wake.

From Helgen he had travelled to Riverwood. The small village had been crowded by soldiers sent by Whiterun’s Jarl to protect the place from another dragon attack. It had been ridiculous – what could have those mere men done to a dragon? There had been plenty of men in Helgen, and only ashes remained of them now.

Ever since then, questions had been burning inside of him, but there weren’t many answers to find. The rumours he heard from the inns and the streets were beyond insane. Some said that Ulfric Stormcloack turned into a dragon right before the headsman chopped off his head, and wreaked havoc as revenge on the Imperials.

The only thing he could believe was the devastating death toll, and the lack of surviving witnesses, which explained the amount of imagination used to describe the events. There had been as many bodies as there were citizens in the city.

By the time he reached Whiterun, another news arrived. Kynesgrove had been hit this time, but the word said that the dragon had been killed. That must’ve been when the Greybeards had called the Dragonborn for sure. He had felt the call in his bones, a call of hope, as well as despair.

The Greybeards up in their mountain were just as afraid as anyone else, but they were also afraid of the Dragonborn’s power – so afraid that they wouldn’t let them use it to the fullest potential. They had plenty of power themselves they refused to use. A single word from them would be enough to end the civil war raging across the country, but what did they do? Nothing.

Nothing but sit on the peak of that tallest goddamn mountain, safe from the reach of flames sweeping over the land down below.

Whether the Dragonborn would even answer the summons or not, he couldn’t know. But if they would, he knew damn well what the Greybeards would task them with – and that was his chance to strike. His father’s study, hidden in the Ratway of Riften would help him with that.

The man went down the stairs into the canal beneath the city, the catwalk by the water rickety and traversed. The path led to the darker side of the town, to the home of lowlifes and thieves. He was familiar with the route indeed, for he had grown up right here, knowing the canals better than his own pockets.

A small gate on the side of the building led into the tunnels, the air smelling of moisture, moss, and fish guts – the smell of his childhood, always making him feel so much younger than four decades. Almost like a boy again, he threaded the narrow tunnels with a magelight guiding him through the darkness until he reached a tavern, hidden from the common folk of Riften.

The Ragged Flagon.

Water dripped from the stone ceiling, and torches burned on the walls of the circular hall. The place hadn’t changed at all since he’d last been there, four years back, right before leaving for his journey.

The man eyed the patrons of the dark tavern. A few new faces had appeared, and some familiar were gone. A blue-haired woman in black, skin-tight leather armour caught his attention for a second, but then he remembered seeing her among the orphans when he'd last been here. He could as well be the girl’s father, so it was better to let it pass.

Besides, he got more important things to do – but if he had a weakness, it was certainly women.

His gaze moved from her chest to the towering tall man with long, black hair who stood beside her. He couldn’t remember seeing that guy before, but the nasty look in his eyes told him to back off. Taking the hint, he walked to the counter desk, reminding himself of the duty he had.

But first, he’d drink some mead.

“Well, well, look at you,” said a red-haired, laid-back man who appeared behind him. “Clive! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around. You’ve certainly lost some weight.”

Brynjolf, the man he’d known since they’d both been little brats, patted him on the shoulder where his arm had been cut off. Grimacing from pain, he mumbled a silent curse. He had almost forgotten the name he went by in here – the mages in the College knew him by another name.

“And you’ve certainly gained,” he grinned to his friend and took off his rain-drenched coat. “Your purse getting as fat as you?”

“Not at all. The business’s not going too well. We’ve had a run of bad luck,” Brynjolf said, snorting as he poured himself a mug of mead. “But what draws you here, my old friend? What happened to you?”

When he’d said that he kills thieves, he had lied. He befriended them. The Thieves Guild had protected his father until his very death, and they still kept his quarters well hidden from the rest of the world. Brynjolf was second-in-command in the organization, but even he didn’t know what they were actually protecting.

For all these years, he had kept the knowledge tightly for himself. These secrets couldn’t be spilt to the rest of the world, and no one could ever be trusted. Not even his friends, not here in the Riften or in the College of Winterhold.

Father had taught him a thing or two about paranoia.

“This?” the man asked, turning around his ghostly arm. “That’s just a scratch.”

Brynjolf laughed.

“No kidding. Seriously though, what happened? What kind of a beast could do that to the great mighty Clive?”

He sighed, taking a long gulp from his drink.

“What if I said it was a dragon?”

“Isn’t that nothing new. Already got new recruits who claim they survived Helgen. I don’t quite believe them. It has been said that no-one made it out.”

He spat out his mead with such a force it sprayed all over the counter.

“You’ve got what?”

“Yeah, these two lads arrived a few days ago. I caught the younger one trying to break into the vault. A promising case. It seems there isn’t a lock in the world which won’ t yield to his skill.”

Sure his eyes were as wide as the moons, his interest piqued. He’d been searching for survivors, all in vain, until now.

“Let me talk to them,” he requested, urgent enough to forget his mead. Brynjolf nodded.

“Aye. Come on then, this way.”

He followed Brynjolf as he walked across the dusty tavern, leading him to the furthermost corner of the hall where two young men sat at a table. The older boy’s dark brown hair was tied on a ponytail, while the younger’s ginger locks were as wild as a sabrecat’s mane. 

“So, lads,” Brynjolf said and cleared his throat. “If you really were at Helgen, this old guy would like to talk with you.”

He flinched as the boys looked up from the table. An eyepatch covered half of the older boy’s face, and half-healed burns adorned the younger’s neck and arms. Their blank eyes stared at him hollowly, as if terror had wiped out all the life in them.

There was no doubt they’d seen the same thing as him.

Chapter Text

Jellal never believed in betrayals. A betrayal was always a result of trust too absolute, too unconditional for the human mind to bear. Nothing uncommon.

He had to deal with betrayals on daily basis on his job. Sometimes it was a poor girl, whose lover had cheated on them, who wanted the boy dead. Sometimes a mother whose daughter had stolen from them, or a warlord whose enemy had accepted the truce but attacked anyway. People turned to the Brotherhood in all kinds of situations, but the most common reason was, indeed, betrayal.

Somehow, Jellal had always thought he’d be immune to such a thing.

He swung the blade all the time, spilling the blood of those someone else wanted dead. Though he had no criteria – all that mattered was that the Black Sacrament had been performed – he preferred contracts including some passion. Bloody, flaming passion. Love gone wrong, promises broken, hearts shattered. He loved to kill when there were big feelings involved in the murder.

And now he, of all the people, had fallen into the very same trap of betrayal.

High on the back of his pitch-black steed, Jellal traversed the darkened woods in search of a Wood Elf’s body. His horse, Shadowmere, had an excellent hunch for blood. From the droplets Jellal had seen on the pink-haired mage’s cloak, he was sure there would be some. But where, it was still left to know. Had been for days. A snowstorm, now slowly subsiding, had covered the trails.

Cursing as a tree branch whipped his face again, he wondered how Elsen had even found the mages in the first place in this damned forest. She hadn’t lied when she said she was an excellent tracker, the most suitable for Jellal’s request. In the tracking she had succeeded indeed, but the capturing part? She had totally blown it.

Jellal hadn’t expected his plan to fail. Something had gone wrong – and he needed to find out what. As a man who always had things in control, having them spiralling out of it made his insides twist as if struck with a blade.

Perched on the snowy branches, the ravens sang their songs of death. Dozens of them hid among the tops of the thick, ancient pines, somehow restless as Jellal passed by. The cawing made him grin. Fear, showed by animals or humans, felt always good.

Suddenly, Shadowmere snorted loudly, turning towards an opening in the woods. There lay a black bundle of cloth on the ground, only partially visible among the powder-soft snow. Jellal, familiar with such sights, easily recognized it as a covered corpse. The air, despite the fresh crispness of frost and wind, reeked of blood.  

“Fucking finally,” he sighed and told his horse to stop. With agile movement, he jumped down and wiped off the layer of fresh snow. The frozen footsteps soiled in crimson revealed beneath it, the evidence of a fight. He sighed. There hadn’t been supposed to be a fight to begin with – that’s why he’d given her the damn poison which had cost him a small fortune. Maybe he should’ve done it himself after all, but if he did, these mages wouldn’t be alive. Which wasn’t what Erza had hoped.

‘Whatever you decide, please, don’t kill them,’ had been her plea after she had confessed her mistake to him. It would’ve been his first choice indeed. While Erza had grown fond of her new friends and Jellal never wanted to make her sad, he had another reason for sparing their lives. He had a doubt which Erza had refused to confirm. His gut told him that one of them was the Dragonborn. It would explain why Erza didn’t let him kill them, because killing them would eventually hurt his ultimate goal, but…

But there was always but.

When Erza started to talk about a disguise, so suddenly after all these years, Jellal realized she had spoken with an outsider. Keeping quiet had been a part of the agreement they had made years ago, when Jellal first started working in the Brotherhood.

It hadn’t been too hard to guess who the outsider had been, even though she’d hesitated to tell at first. But the whole truth had been worse than Jellal ever believed, utter idiocy – Erza had told the boy-mage that she was engaged with a man from the Dark Brotherhood. She even told him his name. And… it had been two fucking years since that happened.

There was rarely a time when Jellal lost his cool, but at that moment he had flown into a rage. Erza had been convinced that the boy hadn’t told anyone except the girl he’d recently met. It was all going straight to the Void. Their whole life was now at risk just because she had once slipped their greatest secret to a perfect stranger – something Jellal would’ve never believed she’d do. That was, if anything, a betrayal of sort.

Though Jellal had calmed down by now, he still wouldn’t understand it. Why had she told him, that boy-mage, of all the people in the world? What was so special about him? It just didn’t make any sense, unless Erza was in love with him or something. He had been a beautiful boy indeed, so maybe he couldn’t blame Erza for that. But Jellal loved killing beautiful boys, especially when those messed with his woman.

Because the Jarl’s men hadn’t arrested her yet, it seemed the mages had kept their mouths shut, but how long would they keep quiet? Would they use their knowledge as leverage against her? Did Erza even comprehend what would happen if the word ever spread? He had thought he had made it painfully clear what would happen.

Jellal’s heart wrenched from the thought. It wasn’t his skin that was in danger, but hers. He could retrieve into the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, the safest, most hidden place in the world, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t be safe anywhere. If the Spectres ever found out, they’d capture her. They’d torture her. They’d keep torturing her until she’d break down, and then they’d kill her. She’d die broken and stripped of her dignity and honour.

And when Erza would die, Jellal wouldn’t want to live another day. Not a single day had passed without her in his world, and not a single day would ever come to pass. They’d leave this world together, no matter what.

By Sithis, was he afraid? Afraid of two little mages and the words they could utter?

If he couldn’t silence them by killing them, he could always scare them into silence. A little bit of frightening wouldn't hurt anyone… too much, at least. He just needed to get to frighten them first, and it seemed to prove more challenging than he had initially thought.

A few arrows littered the ground, and the smell of poison must’ve kept the beasts and vultures from feasting on Elsen’s remains. Her bag was turned over beside her, and Jellal inspected the mages had gone through her belongings. At least she had inked the note his owl had delivered, leaving no strings attached to him. But how had it ended up like that, with Elsen lying dead on the ground and the mages free?

Jellal grabbed the edge of the cape covering her corpse and began to peel it off, as frozen blood had clued it on her clothes. The body lifted as he violently ripped off the cape. He pressed the remains down with his boot until he revealed her face and neck, and found out what had killed her. A single strike of a dagger through her collarbones, faintly missing the largest artery – a slow, but sure death.

“Impressive,” he whispered.

Scoffing, Jellal stood up. A lonely, bloodied dagger lay on the ground next to Elsen, and Jellal knew it had belonged to her. To be killed with one’s own weapon? That was absolute stupidity. She had once hoped to join the Brotherhood, even showed great promise, but if she couldn’t even survive a friendly request, she hadn’t been made to be an elite killer. Why had he ever even thought she would? Damn, he was losing his hunch with recruiting new members to the Brotherhood.

It must’ve been the boy who had killed her. He had that look in his eyes. Looking at the mess on the frozen ground, Jellal wondered why in Sithis’s name he hadn’t just murdered them to their beds in the inn at Windhelm. It would’ve been so much easier than this insane play of cat and mouse. He would’ve slipped to their room and cut their throats as they slept, making sure they’d stay silent, forever… the mere thought was enough to make him shudder.

But no, no, because his dear Erza had a good heart, he had to find another way to achieve permanent silence than spilling blood. And spilling blood was the only way he knew. He could have captured them in the inn and taken them to someplace secret for interrogation, but it would’ve been too risky.

How could’ve he dragged them out from the city without drawing attention? In no way. It would’ve been easier to capture a wild horse unnoticed than those fiery bastards. He knew it better than to stick his head into a hornet’s nest.

And even if he would’ve succeeded, he would’ve run into another problem. Trust, if he could ever gain it with them, could always be broken. He’d need to figure out something which would keep them under control. A partnership, agreement perhaps? This for that?

In a peculiar way, he was thankful this had happened. As his sharpest rage had dulled – he was never angry at Erza, he could never be – he had thought about the mage’s request. Would a disguise be an answer to the long, rueful distance in his relationship with Erza? It wasn’t unheard of for an assassin to live a double life.

There were three things he must keep as a secret: his name, his face, and his occupation. No one should ever know all three of them at once, except Erza. There wasn’t much he could do to his tattooed face and blue hair, but another name and career he could create. He had even got a few ideas, fueling his temptation to try it out. And damn, he didn’t do so well with temptation.

It could work, but it could also go down in flames. The question was: would it be worth it, even if it did?

Jellal walked back to Shadowmere and mounted the stallion. A thousand thoughts stormed inside his head – whenever he’d manage to talk to the mages, he had to keep in mind that they were dangerous. Especially the boy. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes over this subject. The folks back in Brotherhood knew nothing of this matter, and never would, so he couldn’t rely on their help either. He had to solve this on his own, but not in his own way.

“No bloodshed, Jellal, no bloodshed…” he chanted as he thought while riding away, and finally a perfect idea appeared in his mind like a strike of lightning. Blood wasn’t the only key to permanent silence.

Sometimes tears were more powerful than blood.

Heavy clouds of mist rolled over the village of Ivarstead as a new day dawned, the two travellers awakening to the soft light flooding through the dusty windowpanes.

Lucy turned to her side as she opened her eyes, seeing the mage had already got up. He was dressing up, layering himself into two sets of long-sleeved shirts before putting on his robes to be better protected from the cold. The next few days would be the coldest of their journey so far, and Lucy wanted to stay in the warmth of the bed for a while.

“Morning,” Natsu mumbled as he tied up the laces of his trousers.

“Hi,” Lucy answered and quickly turned her face away – she didn’t want to give the impression that she was looking at him getting dressed. Not that he had any right to get offended about it, for he’d been the one to barge in the room when she’d been barely wrapped in a towel. She had forgotten that by now, or maybe she was never really mad in the first place. It had been an accident anyway.

The room in Vilemyr Inn was the same Lucy had stayed in with Erza, with two separate beds on the opposing walls. Though Lucy had freaked out to find him sleeping on the floor of her quarters in the College, now she thought it was safer to stay close to each other. Especially if the Brotherhood was after them. And after the many nights in a small tent, to have him sleep the other side of a room felt so far away.

“Gods, I don’t wanna get up,” Lucy groaned and pulled the feather blanket to her ears. Back at home, she had loved to sleep late whenever she could. It wasn’t often, but sometimes Mother didn’t wake her up in the morning, allowing her to sleep as much as she liked. Staying up reading all night took its toll. “Would it be so bad if we stayed here for a few more days?”

Natsu smirked while wrapping the white scarf around his neck. “Sounds good, but we’re already a few days late…”

Lucy sighed, already knowing he’d say that. “You’re starting to sound a lot like Erza.”

“Someone’s gotta fill her place,” he answered, glancing at her. “Thought you’d miss her.”

“Yeah, but not her killer travel schedule and early morning wakeups.”

The mage packed the few things he had as Lucy stretched her aching limbs. She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. There was a spider’s web in the corner above her, but she didn’t mind mentioning him. He’d burn the whole inn to the ground, and they didn’t have the money to cover that damage. Though he never admitted it, the way he spoke about spiders made it clear how much he dreaded them.

“Seriously though, we gotta get moving,” Natsu said, his tone still far from Erza’s commanding shouts. “So, if you could, get out of bed. We have to use all the daylight we have, and it’s not much.”

As much as Lucy admired his determination to change for the better, sometimes she hoped he could just loosen up a bit. She knew the Greybeards would wait for her, no matter how long it would take her to reach them. If they’d care when she’d be there, they would’ve given clearer instructions instead of just shouting mystic dragon language from the top of their mountain.

A letter of invitation would’ve been better. ‘Dear Lucy Heartfilia, you are the Dragonborn. You’ve been invited to High Hrothgar. Please arrive in a fortnight, thank you.’ What was so hard about it? As long as there wasn’t a date set in stone, there was no point to hurry. But, if not for Natsu and his sometimes-annoying urgency, she’d still be in Winterhold, probably nested in the Arcanaeum with a very good book. She could only thank him for that.

“Okay… but only if you buy me a sweetroll. Or two,” Lucy bargained, smiling. “Or then, fuck it, buy all of them. The gold’s quite heavy in the bag anyway.”

Natsu chuckled. “If you want to get rid of all the gold, then you’re talking to the right man.”

Lucy lifted her head from the pillow and leaned to her wrists. “Got holes in your pockets?”

“Probably,” he answered. “Don’t know why, but all the money I ever get disappears as fast as I get it.”

Lucy smirked. “Bet it all goes to food and mead.”

“Yeah, it’s expensive as fuck to stay well-fed,” Natsu told and paused to pick up his readied bag. “Or well drunk.”

Lucy had never thought about it much, but living in poverty was, in addition to being a Breton, reason for his thinness. Her family had been one of the richest of the town, and she never had to face an empty plate. But if he wasted all of his money, he could blame only himself for that. Maybe she’d teach him a thing or two about handling the gold before it would all be gone.

“You don’t look that well-fed, and haven’t been that drunk after the necromancer’s party...”

“Exactly my point,” Natsu said with a smirk. “Anyway, I’ll eat all the sweetrolls myself if you’re not getting up soon.” He left the room with a faint laugh, and closed the door.

Remotely, Lucy listened to him talking to the innkeeper as he bought them some breakfast. She tilted her face towards the window, but couldn’t see any landscapes through the mist. Hopefully it would fade during the day, or it would be difficult and dangerous to climb the Seven Thousand Steps. She had gotten her share of challenging weather conditions already.

The day after they had clambered up the hills of Darkwater pass, a storm had forced them to stop. As the winds raged and lightning split the skies, they had found shelter in an abandoned farm. The main buildings had been burned down, possibly due to another thunderstorm, but a windmill had stayed untouched by the fire. They had stayed there until the storm passed, sheltered from the wrath of nature.

Natsu had been most frustrated by the delay in their plan – or more likely, the waiting and standing still. Lucy had welcomed the storm with open arms, because it meant she could just lay down, rest her tired legs and read the spelltomes she had with her. Natsu had taught her the Candlelight spell so she could read in the dark, and so she had her nose buried in a spell tome day and night.

She had learned to cast Clairvoyance and Frostbite, but she still needed to train more with the Fast Healing spell. She barely knew the basics of restoration, and to train efficiently, she’d need to get injured first. There weren’t many ways to get hurt in an abandoned windmill. Except jumping down from the inner roof, as Natsu suggested many times when he found nothing else to do.

A little rest had done well for him too, even though he hadn’t felt like it. They had stayed there for two days, and no assassin had come to butcher them when they closed their eyes. He was finally convinced that they weren’t watched or followed, at least constantly. Because if they were, they would’ve been killed into that abandoned windmill.

The winds had calmed down and the thunder passed, but it had still rained when they finally reached Ivarstead late yesterday evening. They had found some dried rye bread and pickled vegetables in the mill, but Lucy had been starving. She’d been so happy to be at the inn. She had eaten until she felt like cracking and bathed to her heart’s content, her hair and skin still smelling of the lavender-scented soap.

When would be the next time she’d get to enjoy a warm meal, or a proper bath? Probably not in a while. The Greybeards most likely didn’t have a secret hot spring atop the sacred mountain. She would’ve liked it though, but she mentally prepared herself for more ascetic conditions for the next weeks, or months, however long it would take.

She had thought that if Natsu had been bored to death for staying two days in the windmill, how would he manage in the monastery? Would the Greybeards even let him stay in the first place? Lucy hoped they would. She didn’t know what she’d do if they wouldn’t.

Despite all of her worries, she was excited to be so close to reaching High Hrothgar. Yesterday, while eating a late dinner, they had talked with the innkeeper, claiming to be on the pilgrimage to the mountain. The innkeeper said it would take approximately two days to reach the monastery, but most pilgrims took the journey slowly, stopping by each of the ten wayshrines to pray and meditate. With Natsu along, Lucy probably wouldn’t have that issue.

Lucy pushed herself to sit on the edge of the bed, her soles aching as she touched the cold floor. She grimaced as she stood up. No matter how careful she had been with taking care of her feet, blisters now adorned her heels, making each step painful as if walking on shards of broken mail. Trying to ignore it, she went to pick up her clothes from the rafter where she’d hung them to dry. The rain had drenched everything she had worn yesterday, but gladly her leather backpack had kept her books and spare clothes protected.

After dressing up in two woollen underlayers and green mage’s robes, she put on her socks and boots, scowling in pain. Though the worst blisters could be healed with magic, Natsu had advised her not to. Healing them would make the skin soft again, and another day’s walk would ‘fuck them up even worse,’ as he said. It was better to let the feet get used to the walking, so the skin would eventually harden naturally. Lucy mumbled silent curses as she went into the main hall with her backpack packed and ready to go.

“… then there’s an occasional wolf pack or stray, but mostly that’s all they have to deal with. Shouldn’t be a problem for the likes of you,” the innkeeper, an aged man, said while cleaning a mug. The mage sat listening on the table, his half of the food already gone. She’d been dawdling a bit longer than she thought. “Other than that, watch your footing. The stairs can be treacherous in wintry conditions.”

“Did I miss anything?” Lucy asked as she sat down next to Natsu. She picked up a delicious-looking sweet roll from the plate, glad that the mage had taken her joke seriously. He had bought four of them, maybe all they had.

“A few things you should watch out for during the climb,” the innkeeper replied. “Your friend here can surely fill you in later, right?”

“Right,” Natsu said. “Wolves, ice wraths, trolls, goats…”

Lucy raised her brows, swallowing the bite of her pastry. “Goats?”

“There’s quite a many of them indeed,” the innkeeper told and laughed. “Harmless creatures, but they often mean there are wolves nearby preying on them.”

And Lucy ate, failing not to stuff herself up. Her appetite had been gone for the first weeks, but now it had come back, forcing her to catch up on the energy she had missed, and the weight she had lost on the way. It was a good sign. As the food started to taste like food again instead of ashes, it meant the healing had properly begun.

While she savoured the last bites, Natsu packed some bread, dried meat, and bottled milk for them. It would last them until they’d reach the monastery, but after that, they were on the Greybeards’s mercy. Then he took the cloak he’d left to dry on top of the hearth and tossed it over his shoulders, bringing Lucy’s cloak to her as well.

Lucy drank the last drops of her tea, wiped her mouth, and thanked the innkeeper for the bed and the meal. She dressed into the fur cloak as she rose, storing the last bits of fire’s warmth into her. Then they picked up their bags and headed outside – the last thing she did before that was to secure her bow and arrows on her back.

Lucy had to rub her eyes as she stood on the porch, barely able to believe what she saw. The whole village was enveloped in a mist so thick she could barely see the road, or the bridge leading to the beginning of the steps. The rays of morning sun pierced through the fog and landed gently on her face.

“Well, we could still stay for one more day, waiting for the mist to pass…” Lucy said and rubbed her neck. The indoors of the inn tempted her to get back.

Natsu glanced at her, lifting his brow. “Are you fatigued or just nervous?”

“Maybe both.”

“Look, this isn’t so bad,” he consoled, not sounding so sure. “At least it isn’t storming anymore.”

Before Lucy could answer, a boy ran past the inn. He had black hair and red clothes, and Lucy couldn’t remember seeing him before.

“Hey, it’s you!” the kid exclaimed and stopped as he saw Natsu. “You’re the mage! Have you seen my papa?”

Suddenly, Natsu went awkward and silent.

“Sorry, kid, but I haven’t,” he said then, quietly.

The child’s face fell, the excitement vanishing from his eyes. “Oh… He should’ve come back already…”

Then Lucy realized he was the boy whose father was stuck in the troll’s body by Clavicus’s magic. Natsu had told her about it. She had nearly forgotten the deal they’d struck with the Daedra – if they’d bring Barbas back to him, he’d turn that man back to normal. An unsettling feeling spread in her guts. The man’s family was still suffering, and they were doing anything but searching that damned dog.

“Don’t worry, he’ll surely come back one day,” Natsu tried to console.

“I hope so…” the boy sighed. “But, what are you doing here? I don’t often see the same faces twice. Are you going to the –“

“Romeo!” yelled a woman who appeared from the fog. “Don’t talk to strangers, remember? Come back to work, now!”

The boy flinched. “Yes, mama…” he mumbled and hurried after his mother, leaving a hollow feeling in Lucy’s chest.

Lucy stared after them for a moment, until the woman glanced over her shoulder as she felt Lucy’s eyes on her. She turned at Natsu, who had his gaze tightly locked on the ground.

“Damn, I had totally forgotten about that one,” Lucy sighed.

“Me too,” Natsu answered. “Shit, now I remember… I asked Felrys if he could keep his eyes open for that dog. You know, back then I said I’d be going to the war. He might’ve found it, but since Clavicus hasn’t turned the man back to normal, then those necromancers sure as fuck haven’t brought the dog back.”

Lucy bit her lip as she nodded. “It’s more likely that they haven’t found the dog. It could be literally anywhere.”

“Yeah… but, we don’t have the time for this now, as shitty as it is for them. And from what I understood, the man was a drunk. The boy came looking for his dad at the inn back then.”

“So you’re saying they’re better off without him?” Lucy asked, surprised he’d said that, unsure about what he truly meant.

The boy and his mother walked to the sawmill on the edge of the town, settled by the river beneath the mountain. It was the early hour of the day, as the sun had just risen, but work was work. It had to be done. But seeing that frail woman doing all the hard labour alone with her son felt so wrong.

“Can’t tell, except that the boy misses his dad,” Natsu said, rubbing his temple with his left hand. “But so does every kid in Skyrim. This isn’t our priority now. Or our responsibility. We should get going now.”

Lucy nodded and followed him down to the road. The cobbled stones were slippery from the rain, making her fear how the steps on the mountainside would be. That worry soon made her forget about the boy and his mother. Natsu was right – it wasn’t their priority. Saving the world from the dragons was.

She stayed right beside him as they walked through the village, soon reaching the bridge. But as Natsu stepped on it, Lucy hesitated.

“What’s up?” Natsu wondered as he noticed she’d halted. The rushing water beneath them muffled his voice.

Lucy raised her head and let her gaze climb up the scenery. A path began where the bridge ended, and the mountain’s age-old walls disappeared into the fog. She had seen the top of the mountain from afar, but now she couldn’t, and ever reaching it turned into an overwhelming task.

“You say it’s going to take just two days?” Lucy asked, not lowering her gaze from the massive, majestic mountain.

“Yeah,” Natsu replied, nodding as he walked to the railing, peeking at the waters under the bridge “We could be there next morning if we walked all night, but we’d be guaranteed to fall. I wouldn’t trust magelight when climbing those steps in the dark. Come on, now.”

As he turned and left, Lucy stayed still for a moment. ‘I couldn’t do this on my own,’ she thought, watching him reach the other side of the river. ‘I can’t climb this mountain without you, Natsu.’

She hid her smile as she hurried after him, a strange power emerging from the sacred ground as she set her foot on the very first of all the seven thousand steps.

If someone had told him a few weeks ago that he’d be on the pilgrimage to a monastery, Natsu would have laughed. The last time he visited Ivarstead, he had wondered why anyone would ever want to get up there. Now he knew. And now, it didn’t much make him laugh.

Among the ancient pines, goats leapt with such agility which made Natsu envy them. They traversed on the rocks, sometimes looking like they were levitating on air, as there was so little ground beneath their hoofs. The goats had lived here for hundreds of generations, thus developing into great climbers.

For a moment Natsu wondered if it would’ve been easier to buy a horse and ride to the monastery, but he wasn’t that good with horses. He had once found two abandoned horses with Igneel, who had then taught him how to ride with one. Maybe it was the fire in him the animal had feared, because he ended up being thrown from the horseback too many times.

So, maybe it was better to walk than ride. At least he could count the steps as he walked. He wanted to know if there was truly seven thousand of them, or if that was just a saying. But could he even count so far? Of that, he wasn’t so sure.

At least in the beginning, it was easy to find solid footing. The steps weren’t built like a direct stairway, more like low separate platforms now and then carved on the stone, most of them sunken to the ground. A steep mountain wall framed the other side of the path, and a precipitous cliff ended the other. Instinctively, Natsu stayed close to the wall, avoiding the edge as Ivarstead vanished into the mist.

He made it to two hundred steps when Lucy suddenly stopped, pointing her finger to the mountainside. She had been quiet so far, and so had he. The fate of the boy and his family bothered him, as much as he tried to sweep it under the rug.

“There’s a wayshrine,” Lucy said, sounding excited. Natsu turned his head, and his gaze caught a stone pillar through the fog. “The tablets established along the trail, telling about the founding of High Hrothgar. I wanna read it!”

Carefully coordinating her steps, Lucy ran to the shrine, and Natsu followed her. She crouched by the pillar and wiped the tablet from moss and fallen leaves.

“What does it say?” Natsu asked.

“Before the birth of men, dragons ruled all of Mundus,” Lucy read aloud. “Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only in true needs, for the voice could blot out the sky and flood the lands.”

Natsu knew the mountain was sacred for Nords, and as a Breton, he failed to feel any connection to the ground, unlike Lucy did. Climbing to the monastery was called a spiritual, eye-opening experience, but he doubted he’d feel any different afterwards. The creation myths about first men being born on this mountain by the breath of goddess Kynareth were all nonsense to him.

Lucy then took off her bag, picked up her journal and found a clean page. Quickly opening the inkpot and dipping her quill into it, she began to write it up.

“What’re you doing that for?” Natsu asked with a quizzical stare.

Lucy smiled shortly. “There are ten of these tablets. I’ll copy them to my notes, so I can study them later. It could be important for my learning.”

Natsu peeked at the stone tablet, barely being able to read the text, the engraved letters worn out by centuries of ruthless wind and rain. Trying to pretend he’d understood anything, he just nodded and looked away.

Though, when stopped by the wayshrine, the air seemed clearer, as if it was easier to breathe. Maybe there was something sacred in the ground after all, or maybe it was just the good night’s sleep that had cleared up the fog in his mind. Ironically, when the other world had been shrouded in a fog so thick Natsu had never seen anything like that. It was relieving to be finally here, on a simple path to follow.

He gazed at the goats, how they vanished into the fog and appeared again. Suddenly, they began to bleat in fear, and soon Natsu heard a pained squeal accompanied by a low growl.

“Wolves,” Natsu whispered to Lucy, taking a step closer to her. The moment’s peace he had just felt vanished in a heartbeat.

Flinching, Lucy laid her journal to the ground and glanced over her shoulder. She froze as she listened to the slaughter concealed behind the veil of mist.

“What do we do?” she muttered and leaned at him.

He crouched beside her. It was possible that the wolves, having feasted on the goats, would just ignore them and let them pass. But as Natsu knew those ferocious beasts, they’d never miss an opportunity to tear flesh and spill blood. A half-torn corpse of a goat slid down the path, leaving crimson stains on the stony ground.

A few glimpses of grey fur emerged from the haze, and from the barking and snarling Natsu estimated there was a small pack. Three, maybe four of them. Challenging to fight, but not overwhelming. He’d seen an overwhelming wolf pack once, and then he had just run.

Now there was nowhere left to run.

“Fight them from afar,” Natsu answered, flinching back as the snarls grew louder and the beasts closed in. He summoned a flame atronach’s gate upon his hands and cast the creature in front of them, a fair distance away, to attract the attention of the wolves. “Just like we’ve practised before.”

Before Natsu even realized, Lucy summoned her familiar to aid his atronach in the battle. Another purple light flashed as the ghostly wolf appeared from Oblivion, challenging the living ones to fight as equals.

“Go, Plue!” Lucy cheered her familiar as she released her bow from the straps, drew an arrow and let it go. It was astonishing how fast she had become with the weapon – so fast that Natsu barely remembered to attack himself, for he’d got lost in admiring her progress.

Focusing back on the battle, Natsu withdrew to the other side of the mountain path, closer to the battle. If the wolves would break through the summoned creatures, they should attack him first instead of Lucy. Natsu formed firebolts in his both hands, ready for the beasts when they’d show up from the mist.

And when he saw the first hints of grey fur again, Natsu threw the fireballs at them, setting them ablaze as the flames found his targets. Though the wolves often feared fire, these were fiercer and refused to fall back so easily. They barged through the walls of flame, going full on Lucy’s conjured wolf, which now looked so small beside them.

“Shit,” Natsu grunted as all three of them tore Lucy’s familiar into shreds with their fangs and claws. His guts twisted as he looked at their size – they were double as big as a regular wolf. “They’re ice wolves. Be careful!”

Lucy’s arrow hit one of the beasts. A gleam of green magic enveloped it as the paralyze spell robbed it of its strength, and Lucy took advantage of that. As quickly as she could, she shot again, and again, until she hit the wolf’s head. It let out a pained whimper as the arrow pierced through its rocky skull, closing its eyes forever.

The other two, now tearing the flame atronach’s arms, suddenly stopped. They turned towards the dead wolf, stared in silence as blood stained its dark grey fur. Then the beasts howled a low mournful howl which soon twisted into a feral rage.

Then the wolves charged straight at Lucy.

Natsu was sure his heart stopped beating as he watched the beasts running down the path with such a speed he could never match. She was on the other side of the parchment, alone, with only arrows as her defence. She could never shoot them both at once – while she’d focus on the other, the another would tear her apart.

And as she just lowered her weapon, Natsu wanted to scream.

“Back off, beasts!” she shouted at the wolves.

They slowed down, still snarling as if stunned by her foolishness. She had shouted away a bear, but unlike wolves, bears were cowards. Glaring at her with gleaming, yellow eyes and judging her unexpected action, they waited cautiously, giving Natsu a chance to get back to her. Though the beasts turned their heads and growled at him, they did not attack.

Lucy smirked when he came to the wayshrine. “I’m not afraid of you!” she yelled again. “Leave us alone and let us pass, or you’ll be the next ones lying dead!”

The second wolf, the smallest one, put back its ears and whined. The larger one grimaced to reveal its blade-sharp fangs with bloodlust in its eyes, ready to tear apart another pitiful human. Natsu’s hands trembled as he enveloped his fists in fire again.

“Lucy –“

“I command you to flee, now!” Lucy demanded and grinned, glancing at Natsu. She let a few seconds pass, and right when the wolf was about to charge again, she shouted, “Fus!”

The raw power of her voice staggered the beasts like a dragon’s wingstrike. It threw them upward on the path with enough strength to steal away their balance, and in their confusion, Lucy drew her bow and shot them both into paralysis. Though it would last only a few seconds, it gave a perfect opening to Natsu to dissolve them into a sea of fire.

And if the wolves had thought they’d live if they’d just obey her command, they were mistaken. She never meant to leave them alive.

As the wolves lay motionless, but not dead on the ground, Natsu launched a series of fireballs at them. The explosions forced Lucy to fall back and hide behind the wayshrine, but he did not budge from his stance. His flame atronach, now recovered from the first assault, reinforced the counterattack, raining more firebolts after Natsu’s spells.

Natsu poured all his fear into the fire, the whimpers of dying wolves burying underneath the raging blasts. And as he felt his magicka running low, was sure the beasts were dead. Grunting, he threw another fireball at them, just to be sure.

Then he halted, catching his breath.

“Think I overdid it,” he sighed as the smoke dissolved, revealing two scorched corpses of a wolf. He closed the atronach’s gate, and the creature retreated to Oblivion. “You okay?”

Natsu glimpsed over his shoulder. Lucy gazed at him with a strange smile on her lips as she rose up, having fallen on her back from the strength of the explosions.

“That was awesome!” she exclaimed as she wiped the dust from her clothes. “I don’t know if it’s because of this sacred mountain, but now I found it so much easier to speak like a dragon, the same way I did in the Palace of the Kings. Like I just knew exactly what to do.”

Natsu watched as Lucy picked up the writing supplies she had haphazardly abandoned, and continued copying the wayshrine’s text as if nothing had happened. It made him wonder what had happened to her. When did she become so insanely brave? 

“Fucking awesome indeed,” Natsu said, raising his gaze from her to the path ahead, and realized he had forgotten how many steps he had already counted. "What did the innkeeper say about wolves preying on goats..."

Photos for this chapter:

Chapter Text

Branches crackled as they burned in a campfire, the scent of juniper lingering in the smoke as it rose towards the starlit sky. Natsu gazed into the flames as he did every night, while Lucy wrote her notes in the journal. It had become a ritual of a sort, a moment of calm before calling it a day.

At every sunset, they searched a good place to set up their shelter at, which usually was found among larger rocks or trees. After Natsu conjured the tent, they built a little fire to warm them as they ate, stretched, rested, and talked. Life had, surprisingly, began to resemble how it had been with Igneel. With less alcohol, though.

Natsu moved his hands closer to the fire, so close his fingertips touched the flame. Though he had been the one to ignite it, it burned him now, but it was a good kind of pain. While his magical flames could never hurt him, these flames were no longer his own, and that thought always excited him. He had just created them, cast the very first spark, and now they roamed joyfully feeding on the bark and branches.

Sometimes his mind came to a perfect still when gazing into the flames, but it wasn’t always so. Sometimes his thoughts raced into distant, strange spheres, like today. Now, burning his fingers in the fire, he wondered if it was like an offspring – a thing he’d given life to, which had eventually grown into a being of its own, eventually capable of hurting its creator. Like a child carrying a grudge against their parent.

As a fire mage, he deeply believed that fire was alive. Though it wasn’t exactly like any other living creature, it certainly lived. It was born, it ate and grew, moved and danced, and then it died down. And it definitely had a spirit that even the masters could never fully tame. Fire was, and would always be, free.

Natsu raised his gaze from the flames as the wind howled in the mountain pass far beneath them. Down there was the path they had passed on the very first days, where the trolls had attacked them. It felt like an eternity ago. Natsu remembered how he had just stood there frozen as the troll had taken Lucy. He had come so far from that point.

Back then he had wondered how he could ever keep the promise he’d given her, as if he’d throw it away like it was nothing. He hadn’t known how important it would grow to be. That day, she had still been just a poor, blonde girl in a torn, yellow dress to him, and had been until the day she had killed the dragon. Since then, everything had been clear with a purpose, and the promise he had given no longer needed an effort to keep.

They had made it to the eighth wayshrine tonight, fairly ahead of their original goal. The mist had dissolved around midday, and no more wolves or bears or ice wraths had crossed their path. With the sun gleaming behind thin feather clouds, the air still and clear, it had been a pleasant climb. The grounds below had grown so terrifyingly small, so small that Natsu didn’t want to look down anymore. Twilight had been a relief, the steep fall of over a thousand meters now obscured into darkness.

“What are you writing?” Natsu asked after a long silence. He hadn’t bothered to ask earlier. She was always so focused, yet somehow sad when she wrote.

“About what we did today,” Lucy answered. “I like to think of these as letters to my mother. That way, she’ll know what I’m doing now.” She paused and smiled wistfully. “And even though father’s dead too, I still hope mother won’t tell him.”

Natsu raised his brow, nodding slowly. “Ain’t much he could do anyway if he knew.”

“Yeah,” Lucy agreed. Natsu didn’t know what she believed in, but she probably knew it was nonsense. “Or maybe he’ll come back as a ghost and chop off my head for joining the College. He hated mages. But now I think he was just afraid of the power magic holds. Envious even, maybe.”

“Could be,” Natsu answered. “But I don’t think he can haunt you in any way. Coming back as a ghost usually means there’s a necromancer behind it, and as there are no remains of your parents, they’d probably be safe from such profanity.”

Lucy looked down. “Well, that’s a relief.”

When she finished writing the page, she let the ink dry for a moment. Then she turned back to the previous spread, where she had copied the texts of the wayshrines.

“But this, this is very interesting,” Lucy said then, her effort to change the subject of speech clear. “Do you want to read it all, in one place? Even I didn’t know much about this.”

Natsu peeked at the page. It was too dark for him to understand the words. “Better you read it.”

“What, is my handwriting too messy?”

“No, just that –”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll read it for you. I’ll start from the beginning, in case you missed something,” Lucy said and smiled, then she read aloud. “So… Before the birth of men, the dragons ruled all Mundus. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for true needs, for the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.”

That’s what had read on the first wayshrine, Natsu remembered. “So that’s from the Dawn Era?” he asked.

“Merethic Era, to be exact,” Lucy told and continued. The wind rustled the pages like autumn leaves. “Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus. The dragons presided over the crawling masses. Men were weak then, and had no Voice. The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in the Old Times, unafraid to war with dragons and their Voices. But the dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.”

Natsu listened while rubbing his chin. Lucy paused, as if to make sure he was keeping up. There had been a war called Dragon War thousands of years ago, that Natsu had heard of. Then the dragons were worshipped as gods in Skyrim, and many monuments that dot the landscapes were built as temples for the dragons. Most details of that time were lost to the ages. Natsu nodded to let her continue.

“Kyne called on Paathurnax, who pitied Man. Together they taught Men to use the Voice. The Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue. Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world.” Lucy stopped, raising her gaze from the book. “This, especially, is very important. This says that Alduin was once defeated by humans, but I don’t really get how.”

“And who was Alduin?” Natsu asked. His mind was beginning to blur.

“I’m not sure,” Lucy started and took a deep breath, “but I think he might be the black dragon, the one who destroyed Helgen and raised the other one from the dead. The dragon I killed called him Alduin, ‘my lord’, as the strongest of all dragons. The World-Eater.”

Natsu’s tired eyes widened. “Really?”

Lucy nodded. “And they were talking about reviving their ancient realm, probably meaning how they ruled the world once, as said in these tablets.” She paused again. “But if the ancient Nords defeated Alduin, why is he here now?”

Natsu fell quiet for a while as the pieces finally fell into place in his head. Back in Arcanaeum, he had read the book about Alduin not being the same as Akatosh. It had said how there had been a time when Alduin ruled the world with the rest of the dragons, and how it took three Nord heroes to finally defeat him and end his sorry story, exactly as the wayshrines told.

But how could have humans overthrown their dragon overlords? It must have been a long and terrible, terrible war. Just thinking about it sent shivers down his spine. Would they be reliving that war soon? Natsu hoped not.

“We already killed one dragon,” Natsu said. He raised his eyes from the flames into Lucy. “It means all dragons can be killed. In that way, there’s always hope. As long as you’re here.”

A faint smile rose on Lucy’s lips. Then she read again.

“Proving for all that their Voice was too strong, although their sacrifices were many-fold. With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer, founding the First Empire with sword and voice, whilst the dragons withdrew from this world.” She sighed. “It’s so frustrating! Why won’t they just tell how the dragons were gone?”

Natsu chuckled. “Maybe they got tired of eating bitter human flesh and decided to fuck off.”

“As if,” Lucy grinned. “The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled. Jurgen Windcaller began his seven-year meditation, to understand how strong voices could fail. Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned. The seventeen disputants could not shout him down. Jurgen the Calm built his home on the Throat of the World.”

Natsu stared at her as the words ran straight through his ears, not a single one of them staying after Lucy stopped reading.

“Okay,” Natsu said after processing the information his mind so persistently tried to reject. “Interesting.”

She closed the journal, put it into her backpack and picked up a spell tome instead. She wiped strands of her blonde hair from her face, loosened from the braid she wore. “I hope the Greybeards can tell me more.”

Natsu nodded. “Yeah, they probably know everything there is to know.”

Lucy opened the spellbook, Oakflesh, the one she got from Felrys. “Have you ever used this?” she asked, showing him the cover. “The magical armour. Should be useful for mages.”

“Never learned it,” Natsu admitted and shook his head. “It’s alteration spell. I hate those.”

“Why?”

“They manipulate reality, and it creeps me out. Candlelight is the only spell I can do from that school of magic,” he explained. “You know, there’s even one spell which turns your vitality into magicka. Equilibrium was it. You can basically kill yourself with that spell.”

Lucy raised her eyes from the book, suddenly curious. “Wouldn’t it be useful in training restoration? First, turn your health into magicka, and then heal yourself back, and repeat eternally.”

“And die if you’re not careful,” Natsu said, scoffing. “Not worth it.”

“Still sounds like something you’d do,” Lucy answered with a small laugh. “By the way, how’s your arm?”

As it took one awkward moment for him to understand what she was talking about, Natsu realized he was very tired. He smiled then and touched his wounded shoulder. It ached, but not as much as a few days ago. Every movement had stung, but healing spells had helped with that. Now he found it strange how stubbornly he had refused to use them before.

“Good,” Natsu replied, turning his palm towards the sky, and then moved it back to his lap. “Still moves around. That’s all that matters I think.”

As Lucy didn’t answer, Natsu realized she had absorbed into the book, as she always did. For a moment he watched her reading, and as his eyes began to slip shut against his will, he knew it was time to call it a day.

It had been a good day.

The dawn broke cold and clear, the frigid wind tearing through the conjured tent’s magical fabrics. Lucy didn’t know if she awakened to the chill or the morning light. Frost seemed to seep from the ground through her mattress and bedroll, not so much inviting her to linger.

She lifted her head gently. The mage was still asleep, his messy pink hair covering his features, his steady breath vaporizing from the cold. Somehow stuck to watch him, Lucy wondered if he dreamt of something, even though he’d said he had lost all his dreams when falling down the stairs of Labyrinthian. Compared to the torture her mind kept feeding her nearly every night, either the memories of Helgen or the memories of the dragon, it seemed like bliss. At least he looked peaceful and didn’t throw his fists in the air screaming like Lucy often did.

Lucy had struggled to fall asleep last night. It hadn’t been just the cold. The energy which radiated from this sacred ground had resonated within her soul, once again awakening Sahklonir’s memories. It hadn’t happened after they had left the College. Yesterday, she had been able to talk in the dragon language, in the Voice, and it came with a price. The visions robbed her of restful sleep, the violence and the blood and the fire, haunting echoes from aeons ago.

Yawning, she crawled out of the bedroll and slid outside through the tent’s flap door. Sunlight stung her eyes, so bright up here in the mountain as it reflected from the snow and pale granite stone. The trees had become small and twisted, and only large rocks sheltered their dowdy campsite. Gladly the conjured tent had a magical ability to block out wind and rain, but no enchantment could cast away this cold. Only fire could.

Lucy went and gathered branches from the area nearby. She had to wander for a good while to get enough for a fire, mostly because she feasted on frozen snowberries she found. When she returned to the camp, Natsu was sitting alone in front of the dead fire. His eyes brightened up when he saw her coming back. It was rare for her to wake up before him.

“It’s so fucking cold,” Natsu complained as Lucy put the branches into the empty firepit. There was still some extra bark left from yesterday, and so he picked up a piece and lit it on fire. Natsu gazed at it briefly before putting it underneath the branches, sheltering the fledgling flames with his palms as he blew into it. The dry wood caught afire, merrily beginning to burn. “And even this doesn’t help with it at all.”

“It’s something,” Lucy answered and sat down beside him. She warmed her hands above the flames. Even though the moleskin gloves, the cold bit her painfully. “Just a little while left, then we’re there.”

Natsu didn’t answer. He took the bread and the meat from the backpack, only to find them solidly frozen. Frowning, he put the bread into the flames and cursed.

“It’s going to burn,” Lucy commented as the crust caught some charcoal black colour on it.

Quickly, Natsu picked up the bread and tested it by squeezing it. It gave in as it had melted, and the small burns did not bother him as he ate it. “Why’d looking at me like that?” he asked her with a half of a smirk, his voice mumbled by the dry bread filling his mouth.

Lucy looked down to hide the smile on her lips. She just thought it was a funny way to warm a piece of bread. As she took the wooden bottle of milk, she found it had suffered the same fate as their provisions. It clanked hard as she hit it to the ground. “Any idea how to handle this one?”

Natsu took the bottle from her and kept it above the flames, so high that the fire didn’t touch it. When he gave it back, the milk was running again, but still chilly when Lucy drank it. Then she filled the bottle with snow, melted it again, and secured the bottle to her belt so the water wouldn’t freeze again in her backpack.

Lucy had grown to like moments like these. Just sitting in silence next to a friend, surrounded by the magical wilderness of Skyrim, taking a deep calm breath before beginning another day with another adventure. It was, even with all of its downsides, what she had always hoped for. She had come to realize that lately.

Soon, Natsu rose up and stretched his arms. “Alright, time to get moving,” he said and lifted his bag from the ground. A purple light appeared on his gloved palm, and he cast it to the tent. It vanished as the spell enrobed it, amazing Lucy every time. Igneel had been a genius to invent such a time-saving and useful spell as conjured shelter.

Lucy collected some snow and threw it into the firepit, smothering the flames. Then they followed the path they had taken yesterday. It weaved among the scrubs and massive stone formations, founded by the forces of nature thousands of years ago. Lucy felt the magic resonating in her soul with every step she took, and she couldn’t help but stare in astonishment as they arrived at the steps.

The sun was rising from the east, its rays still hidden behind the distant mountains. The pathway went right above a steep cliff, terrifyingly high, but Lucy could see all over the lands of the Old Holds of Rift and Eastmarch from there. She held on to the straps of her backpack tight, afraid to take a single step closer to the edge.

“It’s so beautiful,” Lucy whispered. She turned to Natsu, who was enraptured by the landscape as well. The sunlight painted his eyes so bright, light green as the first leaves of spring, and soon Lucy realized she had gazed into his eyes longer than she’d gazed at the breaking of the dawn.

“Yeah,” Natsu answered quietly, then turned away, never noticing how Lucy had looked at him. “Hey, have I ever told you about the time when Igneel turned a tavern wench into a rabbit?”

“He did what?”

And so they went ahead on the frozen path, with Natsu telling his stories of Igneel and tavern wenches and rabbits. As Lucy had to stop when her lungs spasmed from laugher, she knew she had missed the stories he had stopped telling when he’d killed the assansin in the woods of Windhelm.

The next hours passed by fast.

When the sun had climbed on its highest point of the day, the two travellers had exchanged so many tales that one could write a book from them. And that’s what Lucy thought, if she’d someday have the time and the patience, she could write a chronicle of the adventures they had already had, and were still left to have.

Lucy fell silent for a while and stopped to adore the landscapes once again. She had just told him the story of Loke, rusty nails and chickens, and for this time she didn’t feel so much pain as she talked about her past. Earlier, she had thought that Natsu wouldn’t care to hear about her boring life, but at least he listened and laughed. Maybe it hadn’t been so boring as Lucy had thought, but as the saying went, you didn’t know what you had until it was gone.

“Here’s the ninth wayshrine,” Natsu said, and pointed forward in the clean air. “We’re getting close to the monastery now.”

Lucy turned her eyes from the horizons to the direction he gestured at. The shrine stood by the side of the path, with a few sturdy flowers persisting at its foundation. Lucy rushed to the shrine, and Natsu followed her.

“What does this one say?” Natsu asked as he arrived.

Lucy cleaned the tablet from the snow. “For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name; Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar; They blessed and named him Dovahkiin,” she read out aloud. “So this is what Erza told me. Tiber Septim himself once walked the very same steps we walk now.”

“And Tiber Septim was Talos?”

“He became Talos after he ascended to godhood after his death, as the eight divines became nine.”

“Of course,” Natsu said. “So, we’re basically walking in the footsteps of a god?”

“Well, that’s a way to put it.” Lucy took her journal from the bag, her fingers trembling as she began to write. She had to shield the book with her body and hold down the pages so they wouldn’t fly away. “Damn, this wind…”

Natsu waited patiently until Lucy was done with her writing, and then they continued the journey. The path seemed to grow narrower. Lucy stayed close to the wall and close to the mage, and carefully watched her footing. As the wind blew ruthlessly over the mountain slopes, she feared it would catch them and send them down to their deaths.

Climbing all these steps was exhausting work, but it kept her warm. When she stopped, the cold struck her in an instant, forcing her to keep going. No matter how tired her legs felt, it was better than freezing alive. As the air grew thinner and the wind louder, both of them fell silent, not wasting energy sharing tales they could share sometime later.

Eventually, the path led them to an opening of a pass, a gorge of ice and rock, and a horrible feeling spread inside Lucy’s guts. Natsu halted at the sight, and so did she.

Two corpses of elven pilgrims lay frozen on the ground, almost like a grim welcome sign. Lucy swallowed, glancing at Natsu. He stared at the corpses until he lifted his gaze, his eyes following the path into the gorge. There were bones strewn across the path, and stains of blood were forever painted to the icy floor. A beast lived there, and it clearly wasn’t a wolf or ice wrath, but something else.

Lucy listened closely, and the wind carried a loud grunt to her, as it echoed on the frozen walls. Instantly, she realized whose lair it was.

“A frost troll,” she whispered to Natsu, keeping her head down. “This isn’t so good.”

“Absolutely not,” he answered, and gazed around. “It’s probably a guardian or something, like a last trial for the pilgrims. But there could be a way around that pass. I wouldn’t risk fighting that thing.”

A wave of disgust washed over Lucy, shivers in her spine and unset welling in her stomach. She still remembered how the troll had smelled like, how its horrible hands had seized her, not caring about her frantic efforts to survive. Even if it had been a human turned into a troll, she hadn’t known it at first, and she had been sure it would kill her.

“But I have my bow,” Lucy told, hiding her fear behind false bravery. “I could easily paralyze it, and you could burn it. The trolls were vulnerable to the fire, right?”

“Trolls regenerate so fast that the spell might not work,” Natsu answered, knelt on the ground and wiped the snow from the ice. His hand looked minuscule compared to the frozen footsteps. “And this isn’t one of a regular size. It must’ve lived here for decades, feasting on unlucky pilgrims, growing into one big-ass troll.” He rose and sighed. “But there must be a way around it. If that one guy makes supply runs to the monastery, he would know a secret path…”

Lucy looked ahead. The walls around the pass were tall and sheer. A cliff framed its left side while the mountain grew on the right, and Lucy couldn’t see any other way.

“It doesn’t look like there’s any,” Lucy said grimly.

Natsu shook his head, still not willing to go through. “I’ll go take a better look. You stay right here, okay?”

Lucy’s stomach dropped at the thought of him leaving, but as he already began to walk towards the rocks around the entrance, Lucy knew there was no stopping him.

“Yeah. Be careful,” she sighed, feeling her blood freezing in her veins as he climbed to the upper level, as agilely as he had climbed on top of the word wall back then.

“Sure,” Natsu said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

As the mage vanished out of her sight, Lucy couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t take her with him. She could climb, he knew it, then was he afraid she’d fall? Leaving her behind wasn’t safe either. The pilgrims were left here as a warning, for sure, but he had killed a troll before. Lucy had seen it. This one couldn’t be any different than that.

Lucy gazed into the pass, a strangling fear tightening her throat. After being captured by a troll, she dreaded the species from the bottom of her heart. But she knew she couldn’t be afraid. She couldn’t afford it, for the creatures of Skyrim could sense fear, and they loved it. She had known it with the ice wolves yesterday – if she had been afraid then, the outcome would’ve been very different.

The only way out of fear was to go through it. Being afraid was the only time when one could be brave. Upon that thought, Lucy knew what she would do.

She’d just sneak in and steal a glance, then shoot the troll from the shadows. She knew a flame spell, could even cast a firebolt if she tried. Handling the beast on her own would drive the mage mad from worry, but that way she could also prove she wasn’t just a poor girl anymore who needed a rescue. She was a dragon, after all, and couldn’t rely on his help forever.

Lucy released her bow from the leather straps and readied one arrow, then she walked into the gorge.

The smell of the frost troll lingered in the heavy air, accompanied by the irony hunch of blood. Slaughtered goats lay on her feet as she went on, half-eaten as if preserved in the ice for another feast. The troll’s grunts grew louder – she hadn’t been just imagining it. She pressed herself to the stone, halting as she saw a shadow moving ahead of her.

It was closer than she had thought.

And then she saw, in the glade of the pass, the beast feeding on a wolf, dark grey fur stained in blood, entrails splattering to the ground as the troll ripped it open. The troll was as large as the footsteps let know, maybe twice as big as the ones before. And what a nice lair it had, bones piled up in stacks as tall as her. Bile rose in Lucy’s mouth. She swallowed it, shuddering from disgust.

She forced herself to stay calm. That’s what Erza had taught her – if one could remain calm, even in the midst of battle, the arrow would most likely find its target. The troll wasn’t facing the direction she had come from, thus giving her a perfect chance to shoot it with her paralyzing bow. She almost smirked as she aimed, and released the string.

The arrow pierced through the air. The beast jerked as the arrow struck its back, making Lucy curse silently – she had aimed for its neck. Enveloped in a green light, the troll fell to the ground, entangling with the dead wolf. Perfect. Unlike Natsu had deemed, the spell worked just fine. As quickly as she could, Lucy drew another arrow and released it again.

This time, she missed.

“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath, trying not to panic. She reached for an arrow, but while she looked away for a mere second, the troll pushed itself back on its feet. Lucy flinched as she turned her gaze back to her target. She shot again. The troll growled as the arrow hit its chest, fell to its knees, but then it rose. The damn bastard rose, when it was supposed to be paralyzed. Its wounds closed in the instant it pulled the arrows from its flesh.

Then Lucy realized she had made a mistake.

A mistake three times as large as a man.

It couldn’t be happening. Had the bow run out of magic, or had Natsu been right? Pure fear tore Lucy’s heart apart as the troll charged straight at her. She couldn’t turn around and run, for the troll would catch her in a second, she knew how fast and ferocious they were. With no option left but to fight, Lucy cast the spell Oakflesh. Despite all of its imperfection, it would protect her now.

Blue light surrounded her, dancing across her skin as the spell took place, but Lucy had no chance to rejoice. Growling loudly, the troll reached her. Too afraid to concentrate her soul into the dragon’s shout, she switched the flame spell on her right hand while grabbing the bow with her left. Desperately, she poured fire on the troll’s path, but her flames were too weak, no match for a feral beast.

Screaming, the troll leapt through her fire, landing in front of her with a nasty grin. With brute strength, it seized her bow, violently ripping it from her hands, no matter how tight she tried to hold on to her precious weapon. Lucy watched in terror as the beast snapped the bow apart as if it was just a dead, dry branch.

Lucy closed her eyes as the troll threw the shattered bow to the ground, mocking her futile effort to kill it. The beast swung its massive hand at her, its blade-sharp claws tearing through her robes, cutting her skin like thin parchment.

She screamed and fell backwards to the ground, and her mind began to drift away. The world around her slowed down as she was sure she’d taken her last breath, preparing for the final strike which would finish her for good.

And then there was fire.

The pressure wave of an explosion sent her flying through the air. As if all the rage, fear and worry a human could bear were poured into a single blast, a devastating wildfire condensed into one spell, targeted on one creature.

Recovered on her hands and knees, she crawled away from the raging flames which shrouded the screaming, dying troll. Intense heat flashed on her face, and Lucy knew whose fire it was. She broke into tears of relief and shame as the mage ran through the curtain of flames, halting in front of her.

“Damn you, Lucy!” Natsu shouted, making her flinch. “What the fuck was that!?” His eyes gleamed in an ire Lucy had not seen before, the greens now almost yellow as the flames reflected from them. “Just… what were you thinking!? I told you to stay behind!”

Lucy shook her head. Fear stole all words from her, and nothing but air came out of her throat as she tried to speak.

There was no compassion, no understanding in the mage’s harsh reply. “Are you out of your fucking mind, going straight ahead into this death trap, with corpses as fucking doormats? What’s gone into you! Gods, just…”

Tears came pouring down as she lowered her head in disgrace. Lucy held her hands on her chest, suddenly feeling something warm sticking to her fingers. It was blood. Natsu’s eyes widened.

“Fucking great,” he said, the anger in him twisting back to dread. Lucy’s chin trembled helplessly as he noticed the pieces of her weapon. “You even broke your bow. Even better.” He covered his face with his hands, forcefully draining his fingers down. “Why do you always have to be so… fucking… You’re just a novice, Lucy! You shouldn’t forget that, or you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Through clouded vision, Lucy saw something rising in the flames behind him. The white fur, now stained in ashes and blood.

“Natsu!” she managed to cry.

“What!?”

“B-behind you!”

Natsu spun around and saw the same thing as her, the damned troll now back on its feet. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the glass dagger from its sheath, almost gurgling curses Lucy couldn’t understand. With his fullest force, he jumped up and struck the blade straight into the troll’s hideous eyes.

The beast let out a pained squeal, staggering aimlessly from side to side as it tried to pull the weapon out. Blood poured on its face, flesh closed in around the blade, sealing the dagger inside.

Natsu muttered something as he rushed to Lucy, but she couldn’t hear. His words had stung more than she’d ever dare to admit. She had no strength left to resist when Natsu picked her on his shoulder, grabbing her tight from her legs as her head hung to his back. Pain now burning in her chest, she clutched her fingers into his robes and his white scarf as he ran through the flames and past the screaming troll.

‘You're just a novice, Lucy,’ she kept repeating at herself in her head, unaware of where the mage carried her now. ‘You shouldn’t forget that.’

Natsu wasn’t sure which one of them was the idiot now. He for believing Lucy would stay put, or Lucy for thinking she could take down that massive troll by herself.

His ankles ached now from jumping down the ledge to the bottom of the pass, only scarcely managing to grab the clefts so he wouldn’t fall too high. He’d been searching for the other route nearby when he heard the troll’s pained growl followed by Lucy’s desperate scream. From that very moment, he had known something had gone wrong, but how wrong, that was still left to know.

It had been a while since anger had rushed into his head like that, as all of his blood had suddenly shooted boiling up to his forehead. All the bottled up frustration had exploded into the fiery blast he had unleashed at the troll, right before it would’ve torn Lucy apart. He hadn’t even known he’d been able to cast Incinerate, an expert-level destruction spell – a proof that fire was alive, and it had now been on his side.

Lucy's cries echoed in the narrow pass as he ran, careful not to slip his feet or drop her. The troll screamed and grunted behind them, but it didn't seem to follow. Trolls needed to see, and now it didn't. Natsu knew he’d never get that dagger back, but if it was the price he had to pay for their lives, he’d give it more than willingly.

As the gorge ended, Natsu's rapid heartbeat nearly came to a stop. Where he had expected to be an exit was only a slight passage, a crack in the rocky wall wide enough for only one to go through. Bones were strewn on the ground with half-eaten remains of pilgrims and goats and wolves. As if someone had got stuck in the passway, in a perfect trap.

Natsu grit his teeth, Lucy's weight on his back slouching him down. Acting upon instinct, he lowered her from his shoulder and tossed her headfirst through the hole. She screamed, lost in shock, but Natsu had no time to explain. He pushed her legs and heard her slip to the other side, thumping to the ground. If she'd been more well-fed than she was, she would've gotten stuck there, and then nothing could've saved them then.

Hearing the troll's enraged roars closing in, Natsu held his breath and dove into the passage after her. Its sharp edges hurt him as he crawled through, an utter wave of relief flooding over him as he made it to the sunlight. Sometimes it was good to be small and scrawny. The troll was left behind, and Natsu heard it throwing the bones to the walls, unable to channelize its exasperation into anything else.

Lucy lay on the ground, strangely still, but her sobbing let him know she was alive. Catching his ragged breath, got up and knelt beside her, turning her around. He tried to gain eye-contact with her, but it was useless. Though her eyes were open, she wasn't there now, lost somewhere in the realm of terror.

“Hey,” Natsu started, gently shaking her. “You okay?”

There was no response. Natsu lowered his gaze, and her chin and neck were covered in bright crimson blood. He gulped, his chest tightening. Carrying her head down had been a mistake.

Suddenly, something landed next to them. It was a broken bone. Natsu glanced over his shoulder and saw the troll throwing bone parts through the hole in an utter fit of rage, still attempting to murder them.

Feeling his anger boiling up again, Natsu got up and threw a massive fireball into the gorge, knowing it would cost him all the magicka he had left. It exploded in fury, catching the troll in flames which would hopefully rid it from the world for the last, final time.

“That’ll teach you to cross me!” he shouted at the troll. “Ugly piece of shit.”

Natsu mumbled a line of curses as he went back to Lucy, picked her up on his arms and carried her behind the larger rocks, sheltered from the wind.

'How could I let this happen?' Natsu thought, all the rage in him transmuting into guilt and regret. He had trusted she would stay put, not venturing into the lair on her own. What had she been thinking? Or was there another troll who chased her there?  

As Natsu laid Lucy to the ground, his hands trembled from the strain of carrying her all the long way, but from the awakening fear as well. She was hurt worse than he had first thought. Her green robes were soaked in blood, the fabric torn by the beast's four claws. She whimpered in pain, grimacing and covering her teary eyes with her hands. She was barely conscious.

'Shit, this is bad,' he thought as he knelt beside her. He wasn't sure where the blood came from, for everything became a blur, but he knew he had to do something, and fast. He hadn’t seen how, but the troll had whacked her.

“I... I'm sorry!” she sobbed suddenly, her voice meek and wounded. “I shouldn't have done that, I... I'm an idiot...”

“Don't speak,” Natsu ordered and opened the harness of her cloak. “And don't freak out now. I have to check how deep it grazed you.”

Ashamed, she nodded. Natsu pulled aside the leather straps of the cape, and wondered how to examine the wound without exposing her to the cold. In a state of shock, it could be as fatal as bloodloss. But as more blood stained her clothes with each passing second, Natsu knew there was no time for deeper judgement.

As her robes had no buttons or wraps or laces, he grabbed fabric from the neckline, already torn by the troll's claw, and then he ripped the cloth apart. Lucy let out a pained and embarrassed shriek, covering the sound of tearing clothes. Natsu did the same to her two woollen undershirts, carefully trying not to expose her breasts, but failed miserably

“Sorry!” Natsu said and folded her shirt to cover her up, leaving only the wound for him to see.

The claw marks ran from her left shoulder across her chest, reaching her breastbone. His lips pressed into a thin line, he wiped the warm blood from her skin, making her scream upon his touch. Despite hating to hurt her, it had to be done. As new blood replaced the old he had just cleaned, he knew it had to be closed with magic as soon as possible. The problem was, he was completely of magicka, having exhausted all of it in fighting the troll.

With bloodied hands, he took the wooden bottle from her belt, opened it and poured ice-cold water on her skin. He bit his tongue as she cried and squirmed. He held her down with his other hand, then tossed the bottle away. It rolled down the mountainside. The cold water slowed the bleeding for a moment, letting him see that the claws had only pierced through her skin, faintly reaching muscle. It was a relief. Slight, but still a relief.

Natsu wasn't sure, but it looked like she had managed to cast Oakflesh right before the troll had hit her. It had saved her life. Without it, the claws would've sunk so much deeper, possibly breaking her bones and opening her lungs.

“Good thing is,” Natsu sighed, pausing to make sure Lucy would hear. She turned her clouded eyes to him. “It's only skin-deep. No bone damage, or severed arteries. You were lucky. Few inches upward and it would've opened your throat. A few inches down and... well, nevermind.”

Lucy closed her eyes again and cried. “It… hurts…”

“Surely does. And the bad thing is, I’m out of magicka. I can’t heal you.” Natsu shook his head. “But I’ll make bandages from your shirts, and hope we’ll make it to the monastery before you bleed out.”

He couldn’t just sit there and watch her bleeding. He folded the remains of her shirts and put them on the wound, pressing them gently. But no gentle pressure would make it cease. As if knowing that, Lucy reached for his hands and moved them away.

“I... I'll heal it myself,” she whispered. “I… I can do it.”

Natsu’s eyes met hers. His fingers squeezed into the bloody fabric.

“But –”

“Let me try, goddamnit,” she hissed and flashed an insolent, pained smirk. A smirk she had learned from him.

A light appeared on her fingertips, faint and pale like dying dawn. She brought her hand to her wound, grimacing as she touched it, and then she cast the spell. The light danced around the jagged edges of her skin, imperfectly sewing it closed until it shed no more blood. Her face cleared from the dark clouds of pain. Her magicka ran out before the healing was finished.

“Think that's all I can do,” Lucy panted, her voice now stronger. Her hands dropped on her chest, clutching for something to cover herself with. Natsu folded the bloodied robes back on her, a little warmth it could offer.

“At least it doesn't bleed anymore,” the mage answered and wiped his forehead, leaving a red smudge on his skin. Only now, as she was out of the woods, he realized how scared he had been. She had almost died, and he almost had to watch her die. He had sworn he’d never let anyone die in front of his eyes, but those were just words, and had only the word’s strength.

“But hey,” Lucy began and couched, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I got injured and got to train healing spells!”

He snorted. “Don't be so excited about it or I'll start to think you did it on purpose.”

Natsu helped her to sit, and wrapped her tightly into her fur cloak. She wiped the tears from her eyes and chuckled. It was good to hear she was better now.

“Yeah, on a purpose so you could rip off my fucking clothes.”

“And like I'd know how to open them!” Natsu defended, a hot blush on his cheeks. “I would've done the same if you were a guy.”

Lucy buried her face into her hands. “You could've pulled them off me like a normal damn person would've done.”

“Well, sorry,” he said. That would’ve left her naked to the snow, which he hadn’t wanted to do, but she probably wouldn’t buy that explanation. “Don’t have that much experience on undressing ladies.”

“Clearly.”

A gust of wind blew around the rocks sheltering them, making Lucy shiver from the cold. With her shock fading, she needed to get warmed up. “Did you have any spare clothes?” Natsu asked.

“Not really,” Lucy answered. “The night tunic and a shirt, but that’s all I had.”

Natsu scratched the back of his head. “Well, put them on,” he said and helped her to get the bag from her back. He gave her the clothes, and then took his own shirts and trousers from his backpack. “Take my spares too.”

Hesitantly, Lucy received the clothes. Yet something in her looked strange, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. It took a moment before she said what was bothering her.

“Can you help with this?” Lucy said, yanking the sleeves of her shirt. “I can't move my left arm.”

Natsu sighed, realizing what she meant. “Okay.”

And so they bandaged her wound with straps made from her old shirt, and dressed her into a new outfit. It had to be more awkward for her, as she still tried to maintain her modesty. Staying warm was a matter of life and death, leaving no room for being shy.

Natsu would've done the same to Igneel, and in fact, they had, the two of them swapping clothes all the time when they fell into frozen rivers or muddle buds or thorn bushes. Just because Lucy had a woman's body didn't make it any different. Friends helped each other, no matter what.

And as Lucy was finally dressed in Erza’s old night tunic and Natsu’s black trousers and shirts, she looked almost funny. They fit her surprisingly well, only the sleeves had to be rolled up. Her strange outfit helped to lift the mood a bit, but as she tried to take the first steps forward, she staggered and almost fell. Natsu caught her, suddenly feeling taunted by the journey they still had left.

“Drink this,” Natsu said, offering her his water bottle. It was all they had left, but she needed it more than him.

Lucy nodded, received the bottle and drank eagerly. Then she began to secure the leather straps on her back, only to notice her bow was gone. Her eyes darkened as the reality of what happened, and with which price, dawned to her. She glanced over her shoulder to the gorge far behind him, and for a moment Natsu feared she intended to go retrieve the weapon. But then she turned around, gently grabbing the sleeve of his robes as she sought balance and strength to keep moving forward.

“I'm sorry,” she muttered, keeping her head low. “I really am.”

“It's nothing,” Natsu consoled. “Glad you're okay. Relatively. C’mon, let’s go now.”

As they went, Natsu realized that the trees, even the scrubs were gone. They couldn't grow so high, as the winds kept whipping the mountain with no mercy. And if the climb had gone by fast so far, it no longer did. The air was too thin for a proper breath, and Natsu hoped each hill would be the last, but more and more steps revealed after each hill.

Halfway through, Lucy began to turn dizzy as the bloodloss took its toll. Letting her take support on his arm, Natsu led her forward, yet unable to carry her from his own exhaustion. When her legs couldn't carry anymore, they paused for a breath, and then continued again.

And then, behind the highest hill after a long straight path, was finally High Hrothgar. The black silhouette of the stone monastery was clear against the sky, painted in the colours of sunset. It looked like an ancient castle with its many towers and walls. A tall stone statue welcomed them with a tenth wayshrine established to it – the shrine of Talos.

Lucy collapsed to her knees by the statue, looking so incredibly small compared to the majestic monument. She had no strength left to copy the text, or even read it. It could be done sometime later.

“Almost there,” Natsu said, his voice quiet and worn. He reached out his hand and pulled her back up.

With slow, steady steps she walked to the final stairs which led to the door. As Lucy laid her hand on the large ringed handle, Natsu feared it would be locked. What would’ve been the point of their struggle if they’d die at the doorstep of their destination?

Then the doors of the monastery opened as Lucy pulled them, heavy and creaking as if they hadn’t been opened in centuries. She stepped into the darkness, leaving the door open for him.

As they were finally there, Natsu remembered how Jarl Ulfric had tasked him with the mission to escort the Dragonborn to the High Hrothgar. After that dangerous journey, he’d be free to do whatever he wanted, his crimes pardoned and bounty forgotten. But not in a thousand years could he even consider just leaving her there and turning back. Natsu followed her and closed the door behind them.

They came into a quiet, dark hall. Fires burned in the centre of the room, a sign of life that seemed absent. Natsu and Lucy glanced at each other, for a second wondering where they had finally arrived at, but then a figure walked down the stairs, appearing on the centre beside the flames.

An elderly man clad in grey robes approached them, his grey beard almost reaching his hips. With old, wise eyes he studied at Lucy. Then he spoke.

“So… a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.”

Chapter Text

On the tenth day of Frost Fall, Natsu sat atop of a tower, swinging his legs over open air. Perhaps an old belfry, it had now become a place he retreated to when Lucy trained with the Greybeards. The canopy where a bell had once hung protected him from the wind and snow, and the fire in the brazier behind him kept him warm. Maybe he ought to call it ‘meditating’, but in fact, Natsu just sat there dreaming of spiced mead.

“Wuld Nah Kest!”

Like a gust of wind, the strength of the Greybeard’s voice carried all over to Natsu, across the great courtyard. He didn’t want to be around when they taught Lucy the secrets of the dragon language. When they spoke, Natsu felt like all his bones were breaking and muscles tearing apart, so he preferred to be out of the way of their words.

He looked down from the tower. Lucy repeated the Greybeard’s word and sprung through the air, to the other side of a gate, right before it closed. It seemed that the dragons used those words to sprint faster than the wind. He had seen in Helgen how fast the black dragon soared through the smoke, possibly using the same Shout, or Thu’um, or Voice, whatever it was called, Natsu was too confused to know for sure.

Natsu had once heard that the Greybeards could kill you by uttering a single word, and he didn’t doubt it now – their voices truly had an unmatched power. However, their philosophies didn’t allow violence of any kind, and he and Lucy were met with warm, quiet hospitality. Serving the Dragonborn was the greatest honour for them. And as a companion of the Dragonborn, Natsu was received as ‘an honourable quest’, nothing more and nothing less, and treated with pleasant indifference.

Natsu turned his eyes back to the pale sky above him. The sun hid behind a curtain of thin white clouds, and wouldn’t climb any higher today. Natsu held his arms on his lap, fiddling the long, grey sleeves of his robes. As all of their own clothes were stained in blood, the Greybeards had given him and Lucy sets of monk’s robes. They were surprisingly comfortable, made from thick, warm wool, but lacked any magical enchantments.

In addition to being clothed, they were also provided with food and drink, and allowed to roam freely in the monastery. The only restricted area was the path that led to the very peak of the mountain, around half a day’s walk from here. A barrier of wind protected the gate, and anyone who’d try to pass through it would be torn into shreds.

There was a reason why they weren’t allowed to go there. Master Arngeir had said that Paathurnax, their leader, lived in seclusion on the summit of the Throat of the World. He spoke to the others rarely, and never to outsiders, and nothing else was said about him. Usually, anything forbidden intrigued Natsu, but this did not. There were more interesting things in the monastery, like the many hidden tunnels and chambers he had explored. A lone monk living on the peak of the mountain failed to spark his curiosity.

While Lucy woke up at dawn to train with the Greybeards in the courtyard, Natsu often headed into the abandoned parts of the monastery. He hadn’t told Lucy about it, but there was a trap door in the corner of the dining hall which led into a narrow, underground path. The wall had collapsed at one point, but there was enough room for him to crawl past it, into the burrows carved on the stone of the mountain.

As the chambers hadn’t been used in centuries, he spent his time wondering what had happened there, and what kind of ghosts the Greybeards hid in their cellars. Those lone expeditions had kept him sane so far, even though he hadn’t found anything significant, except one brittle book. He had hidden it in the safety of his backpack to wait for the time he’d feel like reading it.  

When he didn’t delve into the forgotten corridors, he worked with small tasks, like dusting the books or collecting water from the well. The Greybeards hadn’t asked anything in return for their generosity, but it made him feel useful. And somedays, like today, he climbed into the belltower to watch Lucy’s training, from a safe distance away.

And so, the days had followed each other, melting into one as if it was the same day repeating again and again. Time crawled and flew at the same time.

But strangely, as he was here closest to the sky as he had ever been, calmness had begun to fill the heart which had once welled in so much rage. There was soothing magic in the atmosphere, in the eerie silence, which seemed to wash away the past restlessness. Where had once been a storm, was now stillness, like the surface of a lake on a summer’s night absent of all waves.

Or then it was just a poetic expression for utter boredom.

At noon, the Greybeards would withdraw into the monastery to pray and meditate. Then Lucy would be free to train magic with Natsu, and that’s what they’d done a lot lately. They battled with the atronachs, practised with wards and offensive spells, even playfully duelled against each other until they both ran out of magicka. Her spells had begun to have a real bite, but training with her was the fun part of the day he waited with great anticipation.

Sometimes, as her skills kept increasing, it cleared to him that there would come a day when she wouldn’t need him anymore. The promise to keep her safe would become inevitably obsolete as she’d become stronger, much stronger than Natsu was. Eventually, she’d be the one to protect him, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. If she wouldn’t need him to teach her, or protect her, would she still want him around?

As the cold wind bit through his leather boots, he pulled his legs close to his body. He glanced down, unbothered by the fall. The highs had never scared him. Lucy seemed more anxious about his climbing, just as his mother had been when he had been clinging in the treetops or chimneys on the roof. Natsu watched as she became a whirlwind again, wondering what they should do today after her lesson.

‘Maybe she’d be ready to summon a flame atronach?’ Natsu wondered and leaned his chin to his hands. Lucy’s conjurations had increased in strength and durability, so maybe it would be a good thing to practice next. ‘It would be nice if my flame boy had a buddy.’

He smiled at the thought.

After exhausting their magicka, they usually headed indoors for dinner. There wasn’t much food in the monastery. The monks seemed to live on air and sunlight only, but such wasn’t the case with Natsu. As he never had enough food as a child, he had learned to eat as much as he could when it was available. Here they had to live on snowberries, salted meat, dry bread and aged cheese, things that kept fresh for a long time. Lucy didn’t complain about it, but she hadn’t known hunger as he had. At this point, Natsu would do anything for a hearty meal at Mirajane’s table.

Usually, when they had eaten, they spent the rest of the day in the sleeping quarters they had taken residence of, in the western wing of the building. There were many of the chambers there, most had been vacant for decades. Maybe once there had been more of the Greybeards than these four: Arngeir, Borri, Einarth and Wulfgar. Well, Paathurnax was the fifth Greybeard, but he didn’t live with the rest of them.

The evenings there were often calm and quiet. Lucy kept reading the books she found in the shelves on the hallways, absorbing knowledge and lore like a drought-ridden tree in a rain. Sometimes she read aloud the funniest stories for Natsu. Master Arngeir had once said it was good to hear laughter echoing in the halls of High Hrothgar.

Master Arngeir was the only one who could talk without using the dragon language, therefore he served as the general spokesman for the Greybeards. So far, Arngeir had talked little with Natsu, for he only spoke when he needed to. And the others, they didn’t say a single word to him. Their voices were too powerful for him to withstand, and Natsu didn’t want to risk getting killed by a whisper.

How ironic would that be?

“Her quick mastery of a new Thu’um is… astonishing,” said a voice behind him, frail from old age. “Isn’t it?”

Natsu turned his head. Master Arngeir stood there, just as he had thought about him. There was no tension in his presence, only tranquillity. Why was he here now, with what words?

“Sure is,” Natsu answered and turned his gaze back to the courtyard below. The other monks were now gone, the lesson for today over.

“She has the inborn gift, but does she have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for her?” Arngeir wondered. “That remains to be seen.”

The Greybeard stopped beside him, standing on the edge of the belfry. His long beard swung in the wind as his wise eyes focused on the distant horizon. Arngeir often meditated in this tower, familiar with the landscape opening from here.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” the mage asked.

The monk chuckled. “The appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is no accident. Her destiny is surely bound up with the return of the dragons. She should focus on honing her Voice, and soon her path will be clear.” Arngeir paused for a breath. “But, she shouldn’t let her easy mastery of the Voice tempt her into arrogance of power that has been the downfall of the many Dragonborn before her. And that’s why I sought you out. Your role in all of this is no accident either.”

Flinching, Natsu glanced at the monk again. In his mind, Natsu had come to the same conclusion but never dared to say it to anyone. He had been the one who didn’t believe in destiny or fate, but it had begun to change. The fracture of time before the headsman's axe would’ve chopped off his head had been so small, so insignificant that it couldn’t be sculpted by anything else than fate. All of this was happening for a reason.

But what would the eventual reason be? He was alive, he was here because he was supposed to. That was all he knew.

“Well, what is it?” Natsu asked. “What do you want of me?”

He understood where Arngeir was going with the talk of arrogance. Somehow Natsu knew that getting whacked by the frost troll had been only a beginning. If she wouldn’t learn to humble down in front of Skyrim’s deadly creatures, she’d plunge straight into her destruction, and drag him with her. Being more rock-headed than her would be the only solution, but there was a limit to which one’s head could harden. Lucy had a dragon’s will. He had only a man’s.

“We can show her the way, but not the destination. We can guide her to find out what it means to be a Dragonborn. We can teach her how to use the gift bestowed to her,” Arngeir said quietly and glanced at him. “But what’s the word of an old man against the word of a friend? You, the one who walks beside her, can guide her back to the light if she ever strays from the path of wisdom.”

Natsu fell silent.

If, and when the night would fall, it would fall on them both. To him, Igneel had been the one who guided him back to the light when he had strayed into the dark. Could he ever do the same? Would he keep carrying the torch Igneel had once lit, as it had now passed down to him? As he wondered that in silence, the monk continued.

“Arrogance is the frailty of the Dragonkind, and it’s the curse of those with the Dragonblood as well. As she’s soon ready for her last trial, I’d personally like to task you with a request,” Arngeir told. Natsu turned his eyes to the monk, focusing on what he’d say next. “Growing her gift too quickly could be dangerous. The power of the Voice was misused in the past, as it had been misused just recently. I hope you can remind her of the true purpose of her gift if she ever forgets it. That’s all I ask of you.”

Natsu looked down from the belltower again. Lucy stood there on the cliffside, now alone, watching over the world below. As she was a dragon born in the body of a mortal, sometimes Natsu thought if she longed to fly as the dragons did. Because that’s how she looked like, like she was ready to spread her wings and soar through the skies, yet chained on earth in her wingless form.

“Misused how?” Natsu asked, knitting his brow. “She’s just Lucy. And she’s good. I can’t see how she’d ever misuse the power granted to her.”

“As we never thought Ulfric Stormcloak would use his Thu’um to murder his king and usurp his throne,” Arngeir answered woefully. “He came here as a boy, chosen to become a Greybeard himself, and we trained him for a decade. To our disdain, he chose a very different path of blood and violence. The Voice should only be used in the worship of Kynareth, yet now he rages war across the country.”

Natsu shrugged. He had heard of that rumour quite a many times when he’d been imprisoned with Ulfric Stormcloak himself. But that man was no Dragonborn, he had not the same power as Lucy. And Ulfric, in his own way, believed his actions were meant for good, and he used his Thu’um to drive away the Imperials who had slaughtered his people.

The thought of Ulfric and his rebellion reminded Natsu of the events of the world. They had been in High Hrothgar for a while now, and knew nothing of what had happened meanwhile. How was the war? Or the dragons? What they could have missed? The thought made him restless.

But Natsu knew Lucy would never misuse her powers. Damn, she didn’t even want any of this, but she still bravely carried her burden. As she had told him, she just wanted to study magic in the College of Winterhold, nothing more.

“Lucy wouldn’t do that,” Natsu answered, sure of his words. “Headstrong she might be, but she’s not evil.”

Master Arngeir nodded. “I know. And we’re glad you trust in that.”

“But why telling me this now? After being silent all this time,” the mage asked, sensing something behind the monk’s sudden action of seeking him out.

“As I said, she’s ready for her last trial. I wanted to speak with you first, to have ensured that she’s in safe hands once she walks out of the monastery.” Arngeir turned away to take his leave. “And today shall be the day.”

Arngeir was already gone before Natsu got to answer, the stone door of the stairway slammed shut by the wind. Dumbfounded, the mage blinked his eyes, unable to believe what the monk had just said.

Today would be the day?

It felt like yesterday when she had arrived at High Hrothgar, wounded and barely conscious.

Lucy remembered clutching into Natsu’s arm when Arngeir had approached them, most surprised when the monk spoke to her without shattering her bones. She had been welcomed to the monastery with no ceremonies. The only thing the Greybeard had asked for was a taste of her Voice, to let them see that she truly was the Dragonborn.

It had taken her a moment then to gather the dragon’s knowledge and form it as a word. A faint whisper of ‘Fus’ had been all she managed to utter, but it had been enough. As soon as she had said that, her vision had dimmed out, and from what happened then she had no memory of. Natsu had said she passed out and didn’t wake up until the late evening of the next day. Lucy didn’t remember that either. Her next true memory was days after their arrival.

The first week had been a struggle. She had never been so severely injured – paper cuts and bruises had been all she’d got before. The Greybeards had used their restoration magic to help her heal when the fever had spiked, and she hadn’t been able to walk. The pain had been unbearable at moments, and it had taken her a long time until she could move her left arm freely again.

It still hurt, but not as much as it used to. She’d be left with a jagged scar, but she’d wear it as a reminder. ‘Don’t overestimate yourself,’ it said, in all of its ugliness.

When Lucy had healed enough, she had begun her training. Lucy had come here seeking for answers, and some she had found indeed. As she knew already, she could now speak in the language of the dragons, granted to her by the Dragonblood, and it meant to Shout. Dragons had the inborn ability to project their Voice, and absorb the powers of their slain brethren, and a few, rare mortals had been born with the same abilities. Whether it was a gift or a curse had been a matter of debate for centuries.

At the dawn of time, when mortalkind was in great need, the goddess Kynareth granted humans the ability to speak as the dragons did, so they could fight their dragon overlords. However, it wasn’t the same thing as the Dragonblood. Through constant practice and years of meditation, any human could learn to Shout, but only a Dragonborn could learn it intuitively, almost with no effort.

The Greybeards taught her the Shouts were made from three Words of Power, and mastering each word made it progressively stronger. She had learned her first word directly from the dragon she had slain, ‘Fus’, which meant ‘force.’ The whole Shout was called ‘Unrelenting Force,’ as it pushed aside anything in its path.

As a part of her initiation, Master Einarth had taught her the word ‘Ro,’ meaning ‘balance.’ Combining it with the first word helped her to focus her Thu’um, a Shout in the dragon language, more sharply. Learning the word was only the first step, for the power had to be unlocked through constant practice in order to use it. At least that’s how it went for the others, but as a Dragonborn, she could use the slain dragon’s lifeforce and knowledge to learn it much faster.

However, it meant she had to dig into Sahklonir’s memories consciously. Meditation was a safe way to explore those violent visions and tap the knowledge without shattering her heart in the process. Following the Greybeards’ example, she often went to the courtyard, to the cliffside, and knelt before the open skies. There she focused on the sounds of the wind, whispers of the sky, and emptied her mind from everything. And in that emptiness, she found the soul of a dragon within her.

It took some time, but each day made it easier for her to understand how to project her soul into the Thu’um. Yet at the same, she still battled with the events of the seven thousand steps. The fear and the pain were like noise hindering her process, as the wounds were still left to heal fully. Losing to the frost troll had taught her a lot.

Lately, she had come to understand that the recklessness didn’t come from her. It came from the soul of Sahklonir, as if it still struggled to surface in acts of arrogancy and carelessness. The dragons had never feared anything, and that confidence seeped into her consciousness. She had to stay aware of it now, she knew, or it would consume her to the bone.

And now, over a month after her arrival, the Thu’um rushed forward, carrying her in its wake like a tempest. Whirlwind Sprint, the Shout was called. The gate closed right after Lucy passed it through, the strength of the word now fading.

Lucy’s gaze travelled across the courtyard as she stopped. She spotted the pink-haired mage atop of the bell tower, sitting on the edge as if the fall didn’t frighten him at all. It frightened her instead. It took a while before she could Shout again, but then she’d rush there and yell at him to get down from there. It probably wouldn’t work. She’d have to personally go and drag him down.

The four monks now nodded to her, signing her practice today done. She nodded back to them, a quiet thanks for the knowledge she had received.

When the Greybeards were gone, Lucy sighed, her throat dry from exhausting her voice. She walked across the frost-covered stones until she reached the cliffside, and stopped before reaching the edge. She never dared to peek down from it, but Natsu said the cliff was precipitous, hundreds of meters worth of free fall. The thought alone sent shivers down her spine.

Unlike many other days, the wind was merciful today. It blew against her body like a light whisper, swinging her fair, opened hair in the air. Inhaling the frigid breeze into her lungs, she let her eyes rest on the view, as the world now looked so small she had almost forgotten how vast it was.

It had been maybe a fortnight ago when Lucy had sighted a dragon flying over the mountains north from here. It had been too far away for proper recognition, but Lucy had a feeling it was the black dragon. She had sensed its age-old hatred and bloodlust across the distance. What was it doing, or where was it going, Lucy hadn’t been able to tell.

Unfortunately, the Greybeards hadn’t taught her much about the dragons. Somedays she found herself getting angry at Arngeir when he refused to answer her many questions. Maybe the Greybeards didn’t even think of dragons as an evil, menacing threat, but as a part of the natural order of the world. It could’ve explained why they were so pensive to talk about defeating them.

And in all honestly, Lucy still struggled to understand how the Voice would help her fighting the dragons. The contemplation of the sky wouldn’t make them go away. Some days she feared she had just wasted her time, staring into the distant horizon as if the world below her wasn’t burning.

Lucy cast away the thought. Of all the people in the world, the Greybeards must know best how to use the gift bestowed to her. Eventually, they’d tell her how to use it against the dragons. And so Lucy stood there on the cliff, embracing the silence, allowing the worries to flee from her mind with the wind.

The approaching steps broke the tranquillity.

“Dragonborn,” said Arngeir’s voice behind her. “We have now decided you are ready for your last trial.”

Lucy’s eyes widened at the sudden declaration. She turned around and faced the monk, no lies in the old man’s face.

“Really?” she asked. “But I just arrived here, and I can’t… Well, there has to be more you can teach me.”

“There is indeed much we know that you do know not. That doesn’t mean you’re ready to understand it,” Arngeir said, no harshness in his tone. “You will continue your training, but not here. The next trial will be on the field.”

Lucy stared at him in silence, finding it hard to believe. There had been no warning, not even a single word about when her training would be completed. She had expected it to take much longer, because there was still so much more she did not know.

“Then tell me what it is,” she said then.

“You ought to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return.”

Lucy swallowed. She had hoped to return to the College to further train her magical abilities instead of this delay. But, if the Greybeards thought of that as the last trial, it surely had to be important. She could always train with Natsu, but she couldn’t wait to go back to Winterhold. This monastery had begun to feel much more like home than the College.

“Jurgen Windcaller?” Lucy asked. “I’m sure I’ve read about him in the wayshrines. Who was he, exactly? What did he do?”

“He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, a master of the Voice. After the disaster at Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat. He finally came to realise that the gods had punished the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice,” Arngeir explained. “He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the glory and worship of the gods, not the glory of men. Jurgen Windcaller's mastery of the Voice eventually overcame all opposition, and the Way of the Voice was born.”

The wind kept howling as Lucy nodded slowly. More questions struggled to get out of her mouth, but she kept her lips sealed. She wanted to ask more about the dragons, and how to slay them, but already knew the monk wouldn’t give her the answers she wanted.

“Do you have any questions before you go?” Arngeir asked, as if seeing through her mind.

“Well, actually, there is,” Lucy began, but hesitated for a moment. If there was only one thing she needed an answer for before she’d go, it would be this: “Why am I the Dragonborn? Am I the only one?”

The monk smiled with his old gaze. “The Dragonblood itself is a gift of the gods. Do not try to deny that gift, for it was given to you directly by Akatosh. But whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age… that is not for ours to know. You are the only one who has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say.”

Lucy lowered her eyes to her boots. “I try not to deny that gift, but…”

“Your destiny requires you to use your Voice – why else Akatosh would have bestowed this power upon you?” the monk said. “If you remember to use your Voice in service to the purpose of Akatosh, you will remain true to the Way.”

Lucy nodded to the monk, falling into deep pondering over his words. And again, there hadn’t been anything helpful in the Greybeard’s answer, just as cryptic as everything before. But, all that mattered was that now she’d be ready to exercise her gift outside the monastery’s walls, in the real world where it was needed.

Master Arngeir left then, and Lucy noticed that the mage had disappeared from the tower. Her stomach dropped as she thought he had fallen down, but then her gaze found him in front of the wind-sealed gate. She couldn’t wait to tell him the news. Though she had enjoyed her stay in High Hrothgar, she couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“Arngeir said I’m ready for the last trial!” she shouted across the courtyard, catching his attention. “We can leave today!”

Lucy couldn’t even imagine how bored he must’ve been all this time. He hadn’t complained much, but what had he been even doing while she trained with the Greybeards? Dusting books, reading them, and then dusting them again?

“That’s great!” Natsu answered. His voice echoed on the mountains. “Well, what is it? The last trial?”

Lucy smiled, barely able to contain her excitement. “Come here so I don’t have to shout!”

As he had been studying the gate to the summit, Lucy hoped he had no intentions to attempt breaking through it. Arngeir had said that once she’d be ready, she’d be allowed to meet Paathurnax, but the time wasn’t now. Probably wasn’t anywhere in the near future. The path could only be opened when her Voice would be strong enough, and she’d gladly wait until then.

The mage crossed the yard, and Lucy spoke as he came to her. “We have to retrieve a horn from Ustengrav, and then bring it back.”

“Ustengrav?” Natsu asked, his brow lifted. “If I remember right, that’s near my old home, in the marshlands.”

“Really? So, you know where it is?”

“Not exactly, but about. Somewhere between Morthal and Solitude,” the mage answered and smiled. “It’s gonna be another long journey for us…”

Lucy exhaled. From what she knew, Solitude was far away. When her parent’s shop had received goods from Solitude’s merchants, it often took them weeks to arrive. It could take them another month or two before they’d be back in Winterhold. But if this was the path she was supposed to walk, then she had no choice but to go.

As Lucy stared into the horizon in silence, Natsu tugged her from the sleeve and gestured at the monastery’s tall stone doors. “Come on then, it’s time to get going again!”

The mages walked through the silent, dim-lit hallways of the monastery, into their quarters in the western wing. And after threading these halls so many times in the past month, Lucy felt almost wistful to leave them behind. She had been here much longer than she’d been in the College, after all.

Faint light flooded through the windows as they stepped into the small chamber. There were few stone beds with fur pelts as mattresses, and after sleeping on those for a month, Lucy longed to sleep in Natsu’s conjured tent again. Compared to these beds, anything in the world was soft and comfortable.

Lucy headed to the drawer where she kept her backpack, journal, and books. All of her clothes were now gone, bloodied and torn, so she was clad in the monk’s grey robes. As the monks were gaunt and small, their robes fit her well, and she assumed she could leave the monastery dressed in them. She still had some gold left, so she could buy herself new mage’s robes from the next town they’d reach.

“Where did I put my map?” Natsu asked, aggressively going through his bag. He tossed all of his belongings to his bed until he found the scrolled piece of parchment. “Here!”

The mage spread the map on the bed. Lucy, already finished packing her few things, peeked over his shoulder as Natsu placed his finger somewhere past Morthal, halfway to Solitude.

“I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere around here,” he explained. “My brother once told me he visited Ustengrav during his alchemy research. He used to disappear into the marshlands for days to collect deathbells and swamp fungal pods.” Then he moved his finger southwest on the map, to the forest east of Dragonbridge. “We lived here.”

“That’s close, then,” Lucy said, a sudden idea appearing in her mind. “Because we’re passing by, we could visit your dad if –“

Natsu shook his head and turned his eyes from the map to her. “No.”

“Why not?” she wondered, blinked as the mage’s sharp gaze pierced through her.

“If my dad wants me to come home, he would’ve already asked,” he answered with a frustrated, pained sigh. “And when I left, he made it rather clear he wouldn’t want to see me ever again.”

As Lucy found no words to answer that with, the mage switched his gaze back to the parchment, suddenly falling silent too. Lucy hadn’t meant to upset him. She just thought one should honour their living relatives. As long as they were alive, it was possible to reconcile, but Natsu probably didn’t believe so.

“The house was never really my home, though,” he said after the silence. “The forest was, and the marshland. The ruins nearby, and the sea, the rivers too. I think it’s going to be a good trip, to visit the lands of my youth once for a while.”

Lucy smiled faintly. “You’ve never been in that area since you left?”

“Yeah. Rorikstead’s the closest I’ve been to that place,” Natsu answered, now focusing on the map again. “But since we probably have to go back to Ivarstead, then we could go from the mountain pass, or through Valtheim towers. Either way, we’ll end up in Whiterun. Then we could figure out how to continue.”

“Alright,” Lucy agreed to his plan. Having Whiterun as their next destination felt like the right choice. “It’s probably going to take a while.”

“Probably, but we’ve got nothing but time, right?”

It didn’t take them long to get ready to go. Natsu packed his things quick, and then they both dressed in their travelling gear, or what was left of it – the fur cloaks and the knee-high leather boots. Lucy closed the stone door behind her as they headed out, the late-night conversations shared there going through her mind.

Though she was excited to begin a new journey, a new adventure, she was a bit scared as well. What would happen on the way to their next destination, and what would they find there? And as they both had lost their weapons, her bow broken and Natsu’s dagger still stuck in the frost troll’s face, they were more vulnerable than before. Would they even make it back to Ivarstead in one piece?

Of course they would, Lucy knew, as she tried to chase away the nervousness. She had learned many new spells, and had a fully different touch to magic now. She had gained confidence and precision, and couldn’t wait to demonstrate her skills in a real battle.

When they arrived in the great entry hall, Arngeir and the rest of the monks were waiting for them. They studied the mages with their wise, old eyes, greeting them farewell. Lucy knew she’d miss them in a strange way, even the quiet ones. They were sympathetic folk.

“We await for your return, Dragonborn,” master Arngeir said, brought his hands together and bowed down. The three other monks did the same, yet in silence. “Sky above, Voice within.”

“Sky above, Voice within,” Lucy repeated, bowed, and then they walked out of the monastery.

And as she stood on the steps of High Hrothgar, she realized she had no memory of arriving at this door. She couldn’t remember how the monastery had looked from the outside, not how the towers had contrasted against the clear sky, and definitely not the statue of Talos welcoming the pilgrims who made it this far.

“Hey, I never read the tenth wayshrine,” Lucy said, gazing at the sculpture. The day was bright, and she had to squint her eyes. “Somehow I completely forgot about it.”

“Probably because you were unconscious for days,” the mage answered.

Lucy walked down the path to the statue, and Natsu followed her. She knelt before the stone tablet etched on the foundation of it and read aloud.

“The Voice is worship – Follow the Inner path – Speak only in True Need.” Lucy sighed. “Yeah, I’ve heard that so many times I don’t even bother to write it up.”

They both silenced in front of the statue. The longer they stared, the deeper those stone eyes seemed to pierce through them. An old man’s likeness carved in stone, face veiled behind a winged helmet, armoured arms holding a greatsword on a serpent’s neck. Ysmir, the Dragon of the North, as the Greybeards had once titled him.

Lucy had once been confused about the whole aspect of Talos, ever since the Thalmor had banned his worship. Here in High Hrothgar, she had learnt the whole story of the most important hero-god of mankind. Tiber Septim, fighting under the name of general Talos Stormcrown, had been the first and the only one to ever unite all the kingdoms of the continent. He had founded the Third Empire and the Septim Dynasty which had ruled for centuries until the Oblivion Crisis, when all of his heirs were killed.

What interested her the most was that Talos had been a Dragonborn, yet he never slew any dragons – there were no dragons in Skyrim at that time. However, Talos had shown great strength in his Thu’um, as he had the inborn ability to learn the art of the Voice. Then the Greybeards had summoned him to the High Hrothgar to guide him towards his destiny of becoming the emperor of all Tamriel.

And after Talos, no one else had been summoned to the monastery except Lucy.

“You know what frustrates me the most?” Lucy asked suddenly. Natsu turned his eyes to her. “I still don’t know what’s my destiny. I had hoped the Greybeards would help me find it, but all I got was this mumbling about how it’s for me to discover.”

“But that’s true, isn’t it?” Natsu answered. “Besides, you once told me that a man’s the master of his own fate. We’re here cause we’re here. That’s all we need to know now.”

Lucy smiled at him. “You’re right.”

“Turning back and asking more won’t help either. The Greybeards only helped you with learning the dragon language. The rest is for you to figure out. Maybe we’ll find some hints in Ustengrav, or maybe the monks will tell you more once you’ve retrieved that thing. Until that, we just have to live on, keep going and see what happens.”

Lucy glanced into the horizon. “First we could figure out which way to go.”

“What do you mean? There’s only one way down. The same which we came from.”

The path ahead of them led to the troll’s lair, and it was a path Lucy did not want to walk again. Natsu had maybe managed to kill it, but only maybe. She had become a lot stronger during her training, but damn, the very thought of a troll made her so sick she could barely walk. As if her wound started bleeding again.

“Let me try something,” Lucy said suddenly.

She cast the spell Clairvoyance, imagining the next destination in her mind. Whiterun, a place she had been many times before.

A trail of light appeared from her palms, but instead of following the stairs, it went straight down the mountainside. Natsu frowned as he watched her moving after the light to see where it led.

“Well… here’s a path,” Lucy said, barely daring to peek down from the edge. There was no steep fall, but a narrow, rocky path – one could go down it, but not up. Lucy dispelled Clairvoyance, trying to trust the spell would truly show the right, fastest way. “Kinda.”

“Really?” Natsu asked, suddenly sounding excited. He rushed to her side, and peered down as well. “It looks like one could go down… sliding.”

Lucy raised her head. She could barely see the shape of the city far ahead of them, knowing it was Whiterun. Following the seven thousand steps again would lead them to the other side of the mountain, and the roads leading to the destination would take a week or more to walk. Going down this way, they could save a lot of time.

“I don’t know. It looks dangerous,” Lucy muttered, glancing at the mage. He wasn’t scared at all. “But, I think I’d rather die by falling down than being eaten alive by a frost troll…”

“It’s not like we’re going to die,” Natsu said, grabbed her hand and stepped into the rocky path, snow falling into the slopes. Lucy had no time to change her mind as he pulled her arm, urging her to follow. If she wouldn’t walk, then she’d fall.

“This,” she exhaled loudly, “is the stupidest, most foolish idea ever!”

The mage chuckled, and though Lucy couldn’t see his face, she could imagine his mischievous grin. “Just don’t let go of my hand and it’s going to be fine. We’ll be in Whiterun tomorrow. What does a warm meal sound like?”

She was too frightened to answer. With her right hand, she squeezed her fingers tighter around the mage’s, and took support from the rocky mountainside with her left. ‘Well, like an offer too tempting to refuse,’ she thought.

Chapter Text

“Come on, Lucy,” Natsu urged below her. “The fall’s not that high.”

Lucy sat on the edge of a crag, clutching her fingers to the cold stone. How easy it had looked when Natsu had jumped down, agilely like a cat. Now, as it was her turn, it felt impossible to go after him. She couldn’t turn back either, for the mountain wall was too steep to climb up. But the sun was setting, and she had no intentions to stay there either.

Lucy lifted her eyes from the mage to the mountain behind her. She could not believe they had survived this far, even if it had taken the whole day to climb down, and more than a dozen close calls. At one point they had to literally slide down the mountainside, holding onto mere faith that they wouldn’t hit a tree or a crevasse. Her legs were frozen now, refusing to take a single step forward as the dangerous path finally came to an end.

“That fucking spell must’ve been invented by someone who wants people dead,” Lucy shouted. “Clairvoyance, my ass. Yeah, there was a path, but then there wasn’t! Gods, if I would’ve known what –”

“Hey, we made it,” the mage answered. “So no complains.”

“I’m still stuck here!”

“Just jump down!” he yelled back. Lucy had been sitting there for a good while now, and Natsu was losing his patience. “It’s getting dark, so hurry up. We still have to find a place to camp. Bend your legs when you land and roll forward.” Then he walked closer to the crag. “Or then I’ll just catch ya.”

“Get out of the way, idiot. I’d just crush you.”

“You aren’t that heavy.”

“Gods,” Lucy growled and took a deep breath. “Come on, out of the way! I’ll jump now.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, and when she couldn’t see the fall, she found the courage to push herself over the edge. The seconds her body flew through the crispy air felt like an eternity, wind and blood rushing in her ears until a loud crack filled the silent night.

She landed, and completely forgot to bend her legs.

Lucy shrieked as the realization hit her with an extreme pain radiating from both of her ankles. She fell on her knees on the cold rock and moss, muttering silent curses as she tried to grasp how badly she had hurt. The damn sound echoed in her mind, making her break in a cold sweat. Such cracks were seldom a good sign.

“Shit…” she whimpered, trying to hold her feet still through the throbbing pain when the mage rushed beside her. “I think… I think I might’ve broken my ankles...”

“Yeah, sounded like that,” Natsu answered.

Lucy scoffed. With shivering fingers, she undid the laces of her boots and tried to take them off. It proved more challenging than usual, even the gentlest touch burning like fire, but she managed to remove her shoes and socks. Natsu cast a Candlelight to hover above them, letting her examine the damage under its light. Both of her ankles were deformed, looking twisted and bruised.

Natsu cringed at the sight. “Ouch.”

She grimaced, still trying to deny the severity of her injury. “I… I’ll just heal them real quick and –”

“In that position?” the mage asked and crouched in front of her. “They’re dislocated. Cast a healing spell at them and they’ll stay like that forever. They have to be put into place first.”

Lucy swallowed, gasping. “You mean –“

“Yeah,” Natsu said and grasped her left foot, the worse one, with one hand on the heel and the other on the forefoot. Lucy tried to resist, a tremor shaking her whole body. “Let’s start with this one. Hold your leg below the knee and pull it towards you.”

“No, wait –“

Lucy’s vision went black as Natsu wrenched her foot back into place. A scream escaped her throat as an intense pain pierced through her ankle, eventually fading into numbness. She pulled her leg, instinctively sinking her nails through her leggings. A perceivable ‘clunk’ cut the edge of her pain as her foot finally popped to the right spot.

Natsu moved his hands to her right leg and grabbed it the same way. Lucy’s arms shivered helplessly as she grasped her calf again, and prepared to pull.

“This isn’t so bad, only sprained… but hang in there for a moment.”

“Are you… are you sure what you’re doing?” Lucy asked, her breath running short.

“Igneel had shitty ankles, so you have no idea how many times I’ve had to do this,” Natsu explained, yet his tone was still somehow unsure. “I’m a master of estimating from how high I can jump without breaking anything, but Igneel just… didn’t. He taught me this fix, I know it’s nasty, but wait ‘til you have to pull an arrow out of your leg –”

“Shut up, for fuck’s sake!”

“Yeah, sure,” Natsu said and pushed her twisted ankle, making her scream again. A similar sound followed as the bones and joints returned to their normal position, but Lucy still whimpered from pain.

Natsu then lifted both of her feet into his lap, placed his hands on her ankles and cast a healing spell. The agony now eased as the light seeped into her bones, doing its best to repair the fractures, restore them into their former shape. His spell wasn’t perfect, far from it, but at least it was something.

“Better now?” he asked, and Lucy nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “You should cast some ice on them. It’ll help with the pain and reduce the swelling, but don’t try to walk today.”

Lucy did as he told her. The spell Frostbite enveloped her ankles in a shroud of frost, tingling and numbing, and then she pulled back her socks. She didn’t even try to put her boots on, so she placed them into her backpack. There was a lot of space now, for they had no food or spare clothes anymore.

“But we still have to find a campsite,” she said, the pain now fading from her voice. Camping near the mountainside wouldn’t be safe, for rocks and snow could fall on them. Lucy attempted to stand but fumbled forward on the moss as her legs gave in.

“Don’t worry about that,” Natsu answered. Suddenly, he grabbed her from the waist and tossed her to his shoulder. Her head hung on his back as he took her thighs into a tight hold, and Lucy felt blood rushing hot to her face.

“Hey! Let me down –”

“You know, it was my idea to go down that stupid path,” he said and casually set forth. Lucy struggled to get released, but his hold persisted. “Sorry about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, but don’t carry me like this!”

“Why?”

“Your hands are on my ass, idiot!” Lucy shrieked and squirmed. “Seriously though, I can walk.”

“As you say,” Natsu answered and swung her down, placing her to the ground – and the moment her feet touched the rocks, a wave of pain swept the legs from under her. Natsu caught her before she could fall. “See? Hop on my back then.”

Forced to swallow her pride, Natsu helped her on his back. Still ashamed, Lucy wrapped her hands around Natsu’s shoulders and leaned her cheek onto his hood. She closed her eyes, not daring to see how he fumbled forward in the dark forest, encumbered by her weight.

Lucy’s memories of the troll attack were scarce, but she remembered Natsu had carried her away from the troll. How, she couldn’t recall, possibly the same way he had just attempted. It had been justified then, but at least she was conscious now and deserved better than to be carried on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

Somehow it made her wonder how many bags of potatoes and carrots he had to lift in his life to become so strong.

“There are better healers in the Temple of Kynareth in Whiterun, you ought to see them tomorrow. I’m not that good at restoration, you know, first-aid is the best I can do,” Natsu said to her. “Those priestesses will get you up and walking in no time.”

Lucy nodded, too tired to answer with words. Even if he thought he wasn’t good at restoration, Lucy didn’t even imagine how much her feet would hurt if not for his healing spell. Or his skill of reducing a dislocated limb. She had never thought he could do a thing like that. Life with Igneel and his shitty ankles had taught him a lot, it seemed.

She was thankful for that. Her pride just didn’t let her admit it.

They went through the woods until they reached a river. It rushed in the night, loud enough to advise them not to cross it. There had to be a bridge somewhere, but that could be found tomorrow. An opening among the trees was a perfect place to stay for tonight.

“Let’s camp here,” Natsu said and laid her to sit on a tree stump. He lifted his eyes to the fields on the other side of the river. Firelights danced far, far across the shrouded lands. “We made it pretty close to Whiterun. Too bad we don’t have any food left…”

“Yeah,” Lucy answered sullenly and wrapped her fur cloak around her, shivering. “And didn’t die.”

“As I told ya,” he said and smiled. “Just let me catch you next time.”

The month Frost Fall got its name from the thin layer of frost which covered the earth in the morning, melted away during the day and fell again on the night. It often marked the end of autumn, for then the snows would fall all over Skyrim and the days would get darker until the sun only came to visit briefly above the horizon.

Lucy cursed silently as her foot slipped again on the road made of cobbled stone, now slippery from the melting frost and decaying autumn leaves. She couldn’t put much weight on her left leg, and her right wasn’t in good shape either, so she had found a wooden stick from the forest to provide her stability and support. Each step hurt, but it hurt her pride more to be carried by the skinny fire mage, so she chose to walk, even when it was slow and painful.

She hadn’t slept much last night, as the cold had kept her awake. It had seeped through the conjured furs, crawled on her skin like a thousand tiny needles, tormenting her to the point where she almost considered rolling closer to Natsu. She knew he was warm. However, she never dared, and eventually managed to fall asleep for a moment, until she awoke to the dysmorphic feeling of falling. The mountain path still haunted her dreams.

They had set forth at dawn after Lucy had cast another healing spell on her broken ankles. It had only helped with the pain, for the injury was far ahead of her current restoration ability. She could only heal grazes, bruises, and other skin wounds, but not bone fractures. Even Natsu couldn’t heal them fully. She hoped the priestesses of Kynareth would help fix them, or it would be one pain of a journey to Ustengrav. The time they had saved would be wasted on her recovery.

Thanks to the Frostbite spell, Lucy had been able to put back her boots, even though the laces had to be loosened greatly. Walking on the forest in socks only would’ve been brutal, all the needles and sticks and sharp rocks sinking into her soles. At least there was one use for Gray’s gift.

But as they crossed the bridge across the river and arrived at the crossroads, Lucy felt relieved. A weathered, wooden sign stood where the roads met, pointing them towards Whiterun. She had been here many times before, as the southward road went to Riverwood, and from there to Helgen. The familiar landscape warmed her heart, but she had to scrunch her nose at the smell of cowshit. She remembered that way too well.

Whiterun served as a commercial centre of Skyrim, and so the lands surrounding it were used in agriculture, harvested wheat fields carrying on as far as Lucy could see. The people here lived in a traditional manner – their lives were simple, harsh, and rooted in ancient ideals. Farmers sew winter barley into the blackened soil, children picked the late apples from the colourful trees, shepherds tended the lambs running in their stanchions. It was a pleasant sight of life as it had been before hers changed forever.

Lucy glanced at Natsu, who stared into the horizon. Only Dragonsreach, the highest point of Whiterun could be seen from here, but an hour or two and then they’d reach the city gates. Hopefully. The mage seemed to be deep in thought, and Lucy somehow sensed what bothered him.

‘You’d really take a death-row prisoner to Whiterun?’ he had once asked, when she had suggested they’d go there. It was unclear where the city stood in the civil war, but considering his former bounty and the Legion’s activity in Whiterun, it wouldn’t have been smart to go there. And though Jarl Ulfric had pardoned his crimes, it didn’t mean he’d be safe there now.

“If you think they’ll arrest you there, I won’t let them,” Lucy said, breaking the long silence. “And it isn’t like anyone would recognize you in those monk robes.”

Natsu smirked and pulled the large hood over his head. It wasn’t enough to cover all of his wild, pink hair, his most prominent feature. In all honesty, it just made him appear more suspicious. Almost like a vampire shielding himself from the sunlight. Lucy chuckled at the thought. He looked so ridiculous dressed like that.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she answered, though she meant to say ‘you’. “Did you ever do something… illegal in Whiterun? Have you even been here before?”

“Oh yeah I did,” he said and grinned. “I stole some Argonian ale from The Bannered Mare for some beggar in the city. Thought I’d do the good deed of a day but got cuff on the ear by the angry innkeeper.”

“You were caught stealing ale?” Lucy scoffed. “Amateur.”

“I was younger then, so of course it wouldn’t happen now. Besides, what do you know about stealing some drinks?”

She held back a grin. “Let’s just say that I might or might not have sneaked into our neighbour’s house and borrowed a few bottles of juniper mead.”

“Really? Borrowed?” he chuckled and glanced at her with disbelief in his eyes. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

“Just that once. It was Loke’s stupid idea,” Lucy answered. It no longer pained her to speak the name of her deceased best friend. “Fun while it lasted, but the next day was horrible. I told my parents I was sick.”

The mage smirked at her. “That’s what I call amateur.”

“And who are you to say!” she laughed. “As in Fort Amol, you nearly puked on my feet, passed out, and had to be carried to sleep by Erza…”

“Gods, I’d rather not be reminded by that. That was an exception!”

And so, they threaded forward on the road, Natsu sharing tales of his drunken nights with Igneel, and Lucy replying with bursts of laughter that hurt her ankles as her whole body shook. The mighty city walls revealed behind the meadows and hills, the area becoming more and more lively as they approached Whiterun. Farmers and guards passed them by, not paying them much attention from their daily chores.

It had been a while since they had talked like that, for in High Hrothgar they mostly discussed about magic and spells instead of memories. But when they travelled, there wasn’t a better way to spend the time than telling stories. Lucy had missed it.

“… and when I found ‘em like that next morning, Igneel swore he had gone to bed with an Imperial woman instead of a drunken Bosmer huntsman –” Natsu paused suddenly, his chuckle dying as he turned his head to the strange noise from afar. “What’s going on there?”

Lucy had been so captivated by the story she hadn’t heard anything until he mentioned it. She snapped her gaze towards the battle cries and distant, low grunts. She sheltered her eyes from the sunlight with her hand, as if she could see a fight on the outskirts of the city. Something towered above a cloud of dust, swung a massive club through the air and launched a man to the sky.

“Holy fucking shit,” Lucy stuttered, watching as the man, probably a city guard judged from the yellow cuirass and a shining helmet, flew into the sun. Only one thing could do such a thing. “That’s a giant!”

“Yeah, gotta be. Sometimes they stray too close to human settlements, and then this happens,” Natsu explained, his eyes locked on the flying man. “Hey, your fall wasn’t so bad, actually…”

The dust cloud settled, revealing five or six fighters who swarmed around the giant, swords clashing and arrows flying. Lucy had seen a few giants when they had crossed the volcanic tundra, but then they had just calmly herded their mammoths. An enraged giant was an ugly, terrifying sight. Its loincloth swayed as it stamped its feet to the ground, the bones adorning the fur chiming like wind bells.

Though Lucy had fought against a dragon, this battle felt like something she didn’t want to charge into in her current condition. How could one even fight such a beast? Giants were like humans in shape, but colossal in height and immense in strength. They were far enough to sneak past it, but it would leave Lucy feeling like a coward.

Panicked farmers ran past the mages, throwing their tools and baskets to the ground. Natsu pulled Lucy aside from the road before she’d be stomped by the escaping crowd. They hid behind a fence, deciding to observe before taking any action.

Lucy watched as someone dodged the giant’s arm and rolled on the ground, armour gleaming in the sunlight and scarlet hair cascading in the wind. The warrior swung her blade at the beast’s hand, severing it from its body. The giant’s growl echoed all across the fields. Crimson liquid burst from the wound, the shade a perfect match for her tresses.

“That’s Erza!” Lucy exclaimed, sure it had to be her. That mettle could only belong to Erza. “We have to go help her!”

She stood up, leapt over the fence and took a few running steps, her injury forgotten until she tumbled into a rock and fell. She squealed a curse and pushed herself back up, the pain in her ankles clarifying she wouldn’t be able to run. But she couldn’t give up yet. There was still something she could do.

The giant was still within the reach of an arrow.

“You alright?” the mage asked.

“Yeah,” Lucy answered. “Wait a moment.”

She inhaled the dusty air deep into her lungs, concentrated, and summoned a portal on her palms. Purple light swirled upon her command and formed the shape of a Daedric bow. Casting the Bound Bow was costly, but she could now do it without depriving all of her magicka. Getting too close to the giant to pour flames on it would be futile and dangerous. She didn’t want to end up flying to the sun.

With a familiar motion, she picked up an arrow from the quiver which had formed from the same magic. She nocked it, drew the string, and aimed carefully. The arrowhead pointed slightly above the giant’s head as she released. Hoping the giant would make no sudden movement, she watched the arrow fly through the fields until it hit the beast’s shoulder. The giant let out a pained growl, its eyes searching for where the arrow had come from.

“Lend me some fire,” Lucy asked from the mage beside her. As they had done many times before, Natsu cast a flame on his hand, and Lucy used it to lit the arrow afire. She shot the flaming arrow which set the giant’s skin ablaze as it hit its chest.

The heads of the fighters turned towards them now, and even the giant noticed them. Before it charged at the mages, it tore the magical arrows from its flesh, angrily grunting in a language no humans could speak. Using its confusion as an advantage, one of the fighters slashed his sword against the giant’s calves, severing the joints which kept it standing.

The giant fell on its hands and knees. The scarlet-haired warrior climbed on the beast’s back and struck her blade to its neck, the greatsword sinking all the way to its hilt into the giant’s flesh. Taking its last breath, the giant whined, closed its eyes and died.

Cheerful roars filled the air as the Companions celebrated the victory, held their swords high to the clear sky. But the scarlet-haired warrior welcomed not the applauds without giving a note to those who had aided her. Slowly, she pulled the bloody steel from the giant and pointed it towards the mages, standing a yard away.

“You there!” she shouted. “Thank you! Come closer so I can see your faces.”       

Lucy didn’t know if they were too far for her to recognize them, or if she pretended not to know them. She glanced at Natsu, who nodded as a reply and offered her walking stick back to her. Lucy let her bow expire, the weapon vanishing into the air as she received the stick. Using it made her feel so much older than she was.

Slowly, they crossed the distance between them and the Companions. There was five of them, including Erza. One of them was a brown-haired, young woman with two steel swords, one for each hand, clad in skin-tight leather armour. The other two were tall, dark-featured Nord men, looking so similar they had to be twins. Another red-haired woman wore rather revealing garments, and she was the one with a bow.

Natsu lowered the hood from his head, and then something changed in Erza’s eyes. A smile spread on her lips as she climbed down from the giant’s back, no longer pointing at them with her greatsword. Lucy felt a knot opening in her stomach.

“Natsu! Lucy!” Erza exclaimed. “Sorry, I did not recognize you.”

“Who are these?” Lucy heard the brown-haired woman ask.

“These are my friends,” Erza replied to her, then turned back to the mages. “What brings you to Whiterun on this fortunate day?”

They walked a bit closer so they wouldn’t have to shout. The stench of iron lingered in the air as the ground eagerly drank the giant’s blood. Lucy had to look away from the enormous corpse.

“Well, I…” Lucy stuttered, gazing down at her aching ankles. “A lot. A lot brings us here today.”

“Most importantly, she fucked up her feet,” Natsu commented.

“Really? You should see a healer in the Temple of Kynareth,” Erza said and thought for a while. “I could take you there. There’s a lot from my end too we should talk about.”

“It would be amazing,” Lucy answered. She couldn’t fight back a smile – she just wanted to jump to the warrior’s neck, but her feet didn’t allow her. “I’ve missed you.”

Natsu snorted. “I haven’t.”

Fiercely, Lucy stared at the mage, hoping he could just once swallow the old quarrel between them. It was supposed to be settled already, so why he still had to pretend that he despised Erza? Lucy knew he didn’t really hate her, he just had to be so damn rock-headed.

“We’re going to celebrate this victory tonight. Slaying giants is challenging work. Deserves a good feast,” Erza said, gladly not paying attention to Natsu’s jeering. “Would you like to join us for mead and meal in Jorrvaskr? You did your part in helping us take down this beast.”

“Really? That’s even better! We’ve been starving,” Lucy answered, delighted, and turned to the mage again. “What do you say, Natsu?”

Natsu scratched his neck and avoided looking into each of them. “Well, if there’s food and drink then I could come…”

“There will be to your heart’s content. As I once said, you’re welcome quests to our mead hall,” Erza said and turned to her slightly confused comrades. “Cana, will you get rid of the giant’s corpse with Vilkas and Farkas? And Aela, would you go looking for the guard? Condolences must be sent to his family.”

The others nodded to her and headed to their tasks.

“Meet me later in Jorrvaskr,” Erza told to them before they went. Then she turned to the mages and smiled. “Shall we get going?”

An utter wave of nostalgia wiped over her as she limped through the streets of Whiterun, assisted by the Companion. She remembered the blacksmith’s shop right near the entrance, the wooden houses lining the street which led to the marketplace. Just seeing so many living people felt delighting. Children played tag laughing aloud, a few women carried their babies in cloth slings, the guards patrolled around to make sure everything was alright. Even two dogs came to greet them.

But through all liveliness, Lucy sensed something in the air. It wasn’t just a nip of the cold, but certain restlessness, as if the laughs were only to cover something dark. All the time she spent in the monastery, she kept wondering what was happening in the world. Though it wasn’t on fire, it was clear that the people waited for something, holding their breath, tense as if a thunderstorm was creeping near.

“I probably shouldn’t ask this here, but from the rags you’re wearing, I believe you made it to the… one place in particular,” Erza said suddenly, gazing at their grey monk robes.

“Yes,” Lucy answered. She knew what Erza meant. “We left there yesterday.”

“Yesterday? Just how did you –“

“We slid down the mountainside,” Natsu told and chuckled. “Not one of our brightest ideas.”

“By Ysmir, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Erza sighed, her eyes widening. “What did I tell you about not getting her into any trouble?”

“Wait ‘til you hear about what trouble she got me into!”

Natsu and Erza kept arguing for a while, and Lucy tried her best to filter it out. She focused on the life which pulsed through the streets, breathing in the scents of spices, autumn apples, chopped wood and yes, cowshit, it could still be smelled through the walls of the town. But it was the scent of life, almost like it had been at home.

They reached the marketplace, where the booths were filled with goods – fruit and vegetables, fresh meat, jewellery, trinkets and odds and ends. But they didn’t stay to buy, and headed upward through a gate which led to another district of the town. There was a circular plaza where grew a majestic, pale tree with withered leaves. She had heard it was called Gildergreen, and considered sacred by the worshippers of Kynareth.

“This way,” Erza guided her to the left. “The temple is right here.”

Lucy lingered for a moment to adore the beauty of the tree, even though it looked somehow sickly, as if it was struck by lightning. Decorative wooden structures surrounded the tree, and benches were placed beneath it for the townspeople to rest on. Natsu gazed at the tree too, probably planning to climb into it. Its branches were perfect for climbing.

A path from the plaza led through fountains and formed a long stairway ascending to Dragonsreach, the Jarl’s palace. Lucy had never been there, only in the lower districts of the city. As a kid, she had dreamed about being allowed to the palace, but such a thing never happened.

“You know, we Companions don’t trust in magic, so we don’t often visit the temple to heal our injuries,” the warrior explained, catching Lucy’s attention. “But it was a fortnight ago when my shield-sister Aela broke her wrist. As an archer, it would’ve been a death sentence for her.” Erza paused and helped Lucy through the stairs which led to the temple’s courtyard. “But I remembered how you used to heal your wounds with magic, and then I told her to try the same. And so, after three days, she gave in and went to the temple. The priestess healed her hand back to the way it used to be.”

Lucy smiled slightly. She hoped the same could be done to her ankles. “They must never run out of patients to practise their healing arts on.”

Many flowers were planted in the borders of the temple, and Lucy couldn’t even name them all. They bloomed beautifully as if their life was prolonged by a blessing, their petals still not withering in the frost of a night. Colourful, painted icons adorned the large glass windows, the flowers appearing in the art too.

“Exactly. Sickly farmers, wounded soldiers, everyone is welcomed here,” Erza said and opened the temple’s door. “Get in.”

Lucy glanced over her shoulder and saw the mage still gazing at the giant tree. Maybe feeling her eyes on him, he turned his head and found them gone. Quickly, he came to them, and then they went into the great hall.

To Lucy’s surprise, a little girl came to greet them, her azure braids reaching her waist. She wore an orange, long-sleeved dress, and an amulet hung around her neck. “How can I help you, children of Kynareth?” she asked, voice meek and shy. “My name is Wendy. I’m an apprentice here.”

Natsu and Erza looked at Lucy, letting her explain by herself what had happened.

“Well, my ankles broke yesterday, and I came in hopes to have them healed,” Lucy said. “I’m a traveller, so I –“

“Of course, come in,” the girl said and flashed a warm, welcoming smile. “Let us see what can be done.”

They followed the girl deeper into the temple, into one of the many alcoves. Other priestesses in yellow robes aided other patients, all of the sickbeds full. Lucy was seated on a chair while Erza and Natsu stayed behind. Though nothing was threatening in the girl’s presence, Lucy felt somehow uneasy, like she was being a burden. There were so many others already who needed a healer.

With careful hands, the girl undid the laces on her boots and took them off, as well as the woollen socks Lucy was wearing. Ugly bruises adorned her feet, looking as painful as they felt like.

“What happened?” the young priestess asked, concern in her quiet voice.

“I… I fell from a crag. About three or four meters,” Lucy explained, still ashamed of it. If she had bent her legs and spread the impact evenly on her body, this wouldn’t have happened.

For a second Lucy doubted if an apprentice could do much to her broken feet, but then she cast a healing spell which shrouded her injuries in warmth, like a light breeze of summer wind. Lucy’s restoration magic, or even Natsu’s, was nothing compared to this girl’s. The spell reached down to her bones, mending the damage until there was none.

Even though the girl was young, maybe eleven or twelve, her skill as a healer was astonishing. Lucy had heard that those with azure hair came with a blessing, and healing had to be hers. She was in a right place – Skyrim needed more people like her in the healing field.

“Be more careful next time,” Wendy said as the light on her hands went out. “Usually, these kinds of injuries become a lasting issue. Either the pain persists, or the ankles keep slipping out of place constantly. But as they were treated right after the accident occurred, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The girl began to wrap her ankles in tight linen strips, and Lucy sighed from relief. She’d never do anything so stupid again, no matter what. The next time she’d have to jump, she’d keep her damn eyes open to see when she’d land. Or then just let the mage catch her.

“Thank you so much,” Lucy praised. She could barely express her gratitude.

“Take it easy for the next days, and you should be fine,” the girl told when she was done bandaging her feet. She stood up and gave her a deep bow. “Grace of Kynareth be with you.”

Lucy brought her hands together and bowed in return. And when she got up, there wasn’t a single hint of pain left in her ankles, like they were cured by a miracle.

Lucy wanted to stay and talk more about healing with this little girl, but then another wounded farmer was brought into the temple, and so Wendy hurried to take them in. Maybe she’d come back one day when they’d be less busy, but somehow she had a feeling there wouldn’t be such a day in the nearby future.

By the time they made it out of the temple, Natsu’s stomach was growling with hunger. Lucy danced and leapt across the yard, laughing as she could walk again. She disappeared behind the great tree, and Natsu wondered where the energy came from. They hadn’t eaten anything since they left the monastery. However, it eased his guilt to see her so happy and out of pain. He had been blaming himself the entire day.

A group of guards passed by them, but none of them paid any attention to Natsu. Back then, when he had stolen the stupid ale, the innkeeper had dragged him into the guard’s barracks to be scolded. They had sworn that the next time he’d steal something, they’d cut off his arm, but Natsu thought it was just a way to scare kids off. Guards loved to put people into jail instead of mutilating them. There they could scorn constantly and throw nasty jokes to those behind the iron bars.

They stopped below the tree, sheltered in the shadow of its dying branches. Natsu watched to the opposite side of the plaza, where Jorrvaskr stood atop of a hill. He remembered seeing it when he had been in Whiterun before. According to the local legends, it was the oldest building in the city, built from one of the longboats Ysgamor used as he returned to Skyrim with his Five Hundred Companions. Ysgamor’s friend, a warrior named Jeek the River commanded the boat called Jorrvaskr, and its hull was now used as the roof of the mead hall.

Loud ruckus caught Natsu’s attention. A statue of Talos stood in the corner of the plaza, next to the stairs which led to Dragonsreach. It was strange that the Legion hadn’t torn it down yet. A lone priest stood in front of the statue, his arms extended to the sky as he preached a passionate sermon.

“… so rise up! Rise up, children of the Empire! Rise up, Stormcloaks! Embrace the word of mighty Talos, he who is both man and Divine! For we are the children of man! And we shall inherit both the heavens and the earth! And we, not the Elves or their toadies, will rule Skyrim! Forever!”

Natsu sighed, not daring to listen for a second more. Erza and Lucy discussed about the sacred tree, but Natsu was too hungry to participate. He felt like he could eat a whole wheel of cheese, and it somehow reminded him of the cheesy potato soup his mother used to make. It was strange how the distant tastes came back when he was starving.

Suddenly, a rider arrived on the plaza. A man in a foreigner’s robes, with many staffs bound to his back, rode a pitch-black stallion through the streets. He wore a green scarf around his neck, but Natsu’s eyes caught the strange tattoo or war paint around his right eye. It was rare to see someone with azure hair, but now he saw a second one today, making him wonder how Kynareth had blessed this man.

But as the man’s frozen gaze pierced right through Natsu, he realized he had felt that somewhere before. Frowning, he halted as the man told his horse to stop near the women.  

“Erza,” the man said to the warrior. There weren’t any others around, except for the crazy priest, and so he continued, “I’ve retrieved the additional documents from the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow, but I have other news as well.”

“More from Rorikstead?” Erza asked, her voice suddenly full of worry.

“No,” answered the rider. “Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak has sent his axe to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. Balgruuf is going to hold an emergency council meeting tomorrow, to consider what he should do. Farengar insisted that we should be here too, offering our insight about the dragon aspect, which can’t be overlooked, even in war.” He took a quiet look at Lucy and Natsu. “I suspect they are the survivors from Helgen.”

“Yes,” Erza answered, and the way she said nothing else made Natsu shiver in unsettlement.

The horse let out a loud whinny as Natsu stared at it. Lucy seemed completely unaffected by it, but the man’s presence felt utterly sinister to Natsu. He lifted his eyes from the horse to the azure-haired man, who smirked and whipped the reigns.

“They should be there too. The meeting will be held at noon. Make sure they’ll come,” the man said, a small hint of amusement lingering among his words.

The warrior nodded to him. “Of course.”

Natsu stood still as the man rode away, towards the stairway of Dragonsreach. He exchanged an awkward stare with Erza, and suddenly Natsu realised who that man was. Repeatedly, he blinked his eyes at his own foolishness of not getting it right away.

“Who was that?” he asked, wondering what the warrior would say.

“Brother Mystogan,” Erza answered, a lie clear as a day in her tone. “He’s a scholar from Cyrodiil, a dragon-expert. He has been studying them for a decade, and he’s helping Farengar. That court wizard was years behind his study.”

Natsu didn’t say anything. Damn, they had actually brought his stupid idea into life? All the risk so that they could do… whatever couples did together. They had to be desperate. But Natsu cared none about that, so he left it be, for it wasn’t any of his concern. Instead, the other thing interested him a lot more. “Is Ulfric really going to attack Whiterun, or what does that axe thing mean?”

Erza went silent for a moment, but then decided to speak.

“It has been rumoured that Ulfric finally got his hands on the Jagged Crown, a symbol from a time when a king was a king because his enemies fell before him, and his people rose because they loved him. Ulfric thinks he will be that king, and now that damn crown strengthens his claim,” Erza explained. “I think he’s ready to act.”

“Gods,” Lucy sighed. She had been quiet for so long. “Only an idiot would wage war while the dragons are raging around. But what about Rorikstead? What happened there?”

“You’ll hear more about that tomorrow in the council meeting,” Erza answered and pointed towards the mead hall. “Now is the time for a feast.”

Those words made Natsu forget all about the priests, kings, and assansins. At least for a while. 

Chapter Text

The glares of the grim-looking Nord twins persisted on Natsu as he chewed the fifth roasted chicken leg, brown sauce flowing down his chin. He did his best to ignore the Companions sitting on the opposite side of the long table, but the silence grew more excruciating the more he ate, and the less they talked.

Clad in armours made from steel plates and black wolf fur, and being head and a half taller than Natsu, they easily appeared more intimidating than they probably meant to. Carvings adorned the pieces of metal they wore, representing the likeness of a wolf’s skull and teeth. There was something feral about them indeed, a hint of a berserker, their dark beards and brows and hair as wild as if they’d never seen a comb. Like wild wolves themselves, something Natsu preferred not to mess with.

At first, he had been too hungry to care about them. He had been starving for a month, and sitting down on a table laden with food had been nearly an otherworldly experience. There had been nothing else in his world at that moment than the many dishes of different roasted meats, baked potatoes, cheese dumplings and apple pies. But now, as his hunger had been satiated, he could no longer overlook the way those Nords stared at him.

“What’re you staring at?” Natsu finally dared to ask. He swallowed, waiting for them to answer.

Their names were Vilkas and Farkas, but Natsu couldn’t tell which one was who. The other twin, the one with the longer hair, let out a snort, but did not say anything.

 “Still trying to figure out why Erza invited outsiders to our mead hall,” said the other one with short hair. “And mages! Since when she has trusted in some shady wizards?”

“We shady wizards saved her arse once. She owes us a good meal,” Natsu answered and wiped his mouth, leaving a sauce stain on the back of his hand.

“Really? She hadn’t even mentioned you before.”

“Maybe because I won her in a brawl once. She’s too ashamed to admit it.”

The man’s dark eyes widened, and he nearly spat the mead from his mouth. “What? You won Erza in a brawl, you scrawny little whelp?”

Natsu grinned. Winning her had indeed been one of the best moments of his life. He had never felt as strong as then. “Yeah, believe me or not, I did! She was begging me to stop when I knocked her hide to the ground.”

The Companion shook his large head. “Can’t be. No one has won against Erza. Let me guess – she let you win so you wouldn’t feel pathetic?”

“Don’t be so rude on the new blood, Vilkas,” said the long-haired twin. Natsu was surprised he could talk. His voice was lower, even more ruthless than his brother’s, but his words were kinder. This one had to be Farkas, then. “It’s nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes.”

Natsu knit his brow together as he took a sip from the mead cup. “It isn’t like we’re joining you or anything…”

“Too bad,” Farkas said sharply with a nonchalant shrug. “I was hoping we could keep you.”

Vilkas sighed, burying his face to his enormous, hairy palm. “Sorry. You see, I love my brother, but his brains aren’t his strong suit…”

Suddenly, Farkas tilted his head towards his brother, and spat out, “Huh? You wanna go?”

“Hey, calm down –“ Vilkas defended but was interrupted when Farkas turned at Natsu and pointed his thumb at his brother, grinning.

“Some people don’t think I’m smart. Those people get my fist,” he told. “But you, I like.”

Natsu had no idea what the man meant, and to be honest, he didn’t even want to know. The brothers continued their rambling while he shut himself out of it. Having finished his meal, he picked up his mead cup and withdrew to a smaller, rounded table nearer the walls. He seated down, enjoyed the newfound calmness, and eyed at the structures of the building.

A strong scent of tar lingered in the air, similar to how the decks always smelled like. Candles, torches, and the fireplace in the middle gave a dim, soft light to the place. The roof of the hall was made from an ancient longboat, now supported by many posts and beams. All kinds of different weapons were hung on display on the racks on the walls. Swords, axes, maces, and bows, but most important of them were the fragments of a greataxe old Ysgamor himself had wielded in the battle against the elves, or so Erza had said. Wuuthrad was the name. Only shards of it were left, but Natsu could sense the hatred it held against the elvenkind, of which he shared a small part in his blood.

Now that he looked around, he didn’t see a single elf along their lines. All of them were Nords, maybe a few Imperials, Natsu could barely tell the difference between those two races. But since the Companions rooted in the ideas and traditions of the ancient Nords, it was not a big surprise that they didn’t let any outsider join. Seeing them brawling and drinking and eating suddenly made Natsu understand why Nords were such a rare sight in the College of Winterhold.

This, in all of its simplicity, was their way of life. The Nordic way.

The moment they had arrived in the smoky mead hall, there had been a full-blown fistfight going on. A couple of them had brawled on top of the long table, throwing each other down, while others had wrestled on the floor. Erza’s mighty command had made them stop. As silence had fallen, Erza had ordered them to prepare for a feast. After that, they’d be able to continue solving whatever quarrels they had.

Soon enough, the meals had been served by an old woman whose name Natsu didn’t quite catch. She was said to be a maid who had tended the Companions as long as everyone could remember. Some even said that the mead hall was built around her, but it had to be a joke. As she had brought the fresh food from downstairs, she said, ‘I see everything, hear everything, and know everything,’ and it made Natsu wonder if she knew about Erza’s little connection to the Dark Brotherhood too. Especially now that they had brought their courtship into daylight, even though in a disguise.

When Natsu had sat down to eat, Lucy had disappeared to the dorm with Erza and the other women. They said something about transforming her into a real Nordic warrior, but Natsu didn’t know what it really meant. Whatever it was, it was taking her too long. Being here surrounded by all these Nord strangers was getting uncomfortable.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember seeing Lucy or Erza around that much when they’d been at Igneel’s memorial in Fort Amol. There had been only elves then, different kinds of wizards from necromancers to illusionists. Natsu, though not being an elf, but a mage himself, had suited into the unruly group well enough, but his friends did not. They had withdrawn into the most distant corner of the hall. Maybe Natsu felt now what they had felt then, the feeling of not belonging.

While College of Winterhold was a place for studying and preserving the arcane arts, Jorrvaskr was home to a band of warriors. As Natsu had heard, they showed up to solve problems in Skyrim when the coin was good enough. They fought side by side as brothers and sisters, with glory in battle and honour in life.

In some way, Natsu admired that. Maybe, if his path had been different from the beginning and he had been born as a warrior at heart, he would’ve chosen that kind of life too. But as a man he was now, he couldn’t even imagine choosing steel over fire. Swords and axes and maces felt foreign in his hands, while flames felt just like home.

Suddenly, a familiar voice pierced through the uproar and snapped him out of the ridiculous thought of imagining himself as a Companion. Natsu turned his head to the stairway, and didn't quite expect to see Lucy standing there, dressed like... that. He had to blink more than once. He barely recognized her.

Fair braids ran along her scalp, gathered into a mane of hair on the middle of her head. Her eyes were painted black to make them appear even bigger, her lips tinted as red as snowberries. The monk robes had been changed into an armour made from leather and fur and steel plates, yet it seemed to be meant for allowing free movement rather than protecting the wearer.

She was accompanied by the Erza and the other women, but Natsu barely noticed them. Natsu's gaze lingered not on her revealed skin or the shapes of her body, but on the red scar running from her shoulder to her chest. The troll’s claw marks had healed well, though they still needed a lot of time to fade. Natsu hoped it didn't hurt anymore. He still blamed himself for letting that happen.

Lucy turned her head around, searching across the hall. When her gaze met his, her eyes brightened and she flashed a smile. She said something to Erza and then left their company.

“Where's Lucy?” Natsu asked jokingly when she walked to him. “What did you do to her?”

Lucy smiled, somehow shy as she looked down at her new outfit. “Ancient Nord archers looked like this, and Aela holds on to that tradition. I borrowed her armour.” She chuckled, nervously rubbing her neck. “Or rather, they made me wear it...”

“I see,” Natsu commented and turned his eyes back to the table. Seeing her like that reminded him of the leather armour she had found in Embershard mine. At least when she had tried to put it on the wrong way around.

Lucy pulled her short leather skirt down, the chainmail clinking as she tried to hide her thighs. Her boots reached her knees and bracers shielded her arms, but her sides and upper legs were bare. Straps and laces kept together the leather pieces barely covering her chest. Either the snowberry tint had smudged from her lips to her cheeks or then she was bloody embarrassed by her armour.

“Don't 'I see' me,” she hissed silently and sat beside him on the bench. “I don't feel like myself at all! Gods, if my mother would see me now, she'd –“

“I'm still wondering where the heck Lucy is.”

“I'm here, flame-brain!” Lucy cried and nudged his side with her sharp finger. “At least they bathed me. In warm water. Can you imagine? A warm bath!” She paused for a moment. “You'd totally need a bath too. Should I ask them if they'd turn you into a huntress? This wouldn't be so embarrassing alone.”

Natsu chuckled into his cup as he sipped the mead. Lucy was right. He hadn’t felt warm water on his skin since bathing in the inn at Ivarstead. In High Hrothgar, ice-cold bucketfuls straight from the well had been the only thing he’d washed himself with when the reek had become unbearable.

As she mentioned the bath, Natsu realized she smelled different. Not like the usual honeyed soap she used, but like scented oil – a strong hint of tart autumn berries with red mountain flowers. Maybe the old Nordic warriors used those herbs to increase their strength and valour in a battle, but it didn’t suit her natural, innocent endeavour.

“Just take it easy. It ain't like nobody here will bat an eye,” Natsu consoled her and offered her a bottle of mead, which had been stored in the basket on the table. “Here, have a drink.”

Lucy received the mead bottle, but held it hesitantly. She struggled to get the cork off, and took no sip from it.

“I don't know if I should…” Lucy said silently. “You know, my parents never let me drink. They feared I'd do something... inappropriate, bring disgrace to the whole family. They didn't drink either. Only a cup of wine with a fine meal, nothing more.”

Lucy eyed at the label clued to the side of the bottle as if to avoid drinking it. Natsu’s parents had, ironically, taught him the same. Father had given the best lectures about the dangers of alcohol when he’d been drunk himself. The moment Natsu had been out of that house, those words had lost all power, and he had been drinking ever since.

“Sorry to put it like this, but they aren't here anymore,” Natsu told her, hoping she wouldn’t get sad. “You can do anything you want. And it isn’t like drinking is the worst thing you’ve done.”

Lucy silenced as she gazed into his eyes, then averting her gaze back to the bottle. “Then tell the father in my head to shut up.”

Natsu knocked on Lucy's forehead with his knuckles. “Hey, Lucy's old man, let your kid have some fun for once,” he said and smirked.

“Thanks,” Lucy chuckled, and took one hesitant sip. She cringed at the taste, barely able to swallow it. “Gods this is horrible.”

“Yeah, Nord mead is. Tastes like goat’s piss,” Natsu said. “I miss the one with juniper in it.”

“Too bad Vilod won’t be brewing it anymore.”

“Did I hear someone insulting our mead?” a loud voice said behind them and cracked into a laugh. “Unforgivable.”

Natsu glanced over his shoulder. The brown-haired woman, the one who had wielded two swords, stood in the stairway. Her weapons were now resting in the racks by the front doors. She wore a wide grin as she walked to their table.

“Sorry, I… I think the taste is rather strong,” Lucy tried to fix her mistake. “I’m not really used to it.”

“Yet,” the Companion said. She carried a small barrel in her arms, and Natsu realised it was full of mead. She seated to the bench opposite to them, on the other side of the table. “So, you’re Erza’s friends? I haven’t heard of you before, but I’d love to get to know you. If our stone-cold Erza has become fond of you, you’ll have to be some special kind of folk.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Lucy awkwardly. “My name is Lucy. This one is Natsu. And you are…?”

“Cana,” she answered and bowed deeply, so deep her mead almost spilt from the barrel. “Are you both mages? So, you can cast a few spells?”

“We’re from the College,” Natsu told.

“Ah, the College. They say the College has been snooping around Saarthal. Mages in a burial crypt? No good can come of that…”

A sudden interest sparked within Natsu’s chest. He hadn’t heard a word of what had happened in Winterhold since they had left. Lucy had wanted to go to that expedition, so Natsu thought she’d find it intriguing as well.

“We’ve been away for a while now,” Lucy said. “Has something happened out there?”

“I’ve heard that someone saw a mage appear out of thin air. Claimed it was one of those Psijic monks,” Cana told and lifted her shoulder, the mead nearly spilling again. “Man’s been hitting the skooma, I say.”

“That has to be Gray,” Natsu replied. Gray had gone to that trip as a tutor, and Natsu had a feeling that thing had happened to him. “But Psijics? Here, in Skyrim?”

“Who are the Psijics?” Lucy asked.

“A group of mages no-one has seen in centuries. Very powerful, very secretive. I have no idea why they would’ve been there,” Natsu explained. “That’s all I know, really. Gotta ask them more about it when we get back.”

Lucy sighed, swirling the bottle in her hands. “We’ve probably missed out a lot…”

“Nothing that important,” Cana said. “Besides, now is the time for a feast. Let’s wash down the worries of the world. It’s going to end anyway soon.” She drank directly from the barrel, the mead running down from the corners of her lips. “Hey! You seem like decent folk, but I’m not drunk enough to say for sure. So, let’s play a little game!”

“A game?” Lucy wondered, lifting her brows.

“Erza! Aela! The wolf twins!” Cana hollered to the hall. “Come here. Let’s play a game with the whelps.”

“That drinking game of yours? Not again…” Aela, the red-haired huntress muttered. “I’ll pass this time.”

“We too,” said the twins.

“It’s going to be great!” Cana shouted at them. “Erza, at least you should come. You can’t leave your friends on my mercy.”

“Well… Alright. Can’t argue against that,” the warrior answered, left the company of her friends and joined Natsu’s and Lucy’s small table. When she had seated, Cana poured her a cup.

“Here are the rules”, she began as she passed the mead to Erza. “In turns, we make statements about each other. The same statement is meant for everyone. If the claim is true for you, then you drink. If it’s not, then you don’t drink. Easy.”

“So… If you say ‘you’ve killed a giant,’ those who have killed one will have a drink?” Lucy asked.

“Exactly. To spice things up, if no one drinks, you are out of the game. You have to read the others, know who they are and what they’ve done. The last one standing wins,” Cana said and laughed. She seemed to be laughing all the time. “Let’s begin. The youngest starts.”

“I’m seventeen, so I bet I’m the youngest,” Lucy answered. “What would I ask…”

“Anything you want, but there’s no lying in this game. I’ll know if you lie.”

“Okay,” Lucy sighed and wiped her face. She had forgotten her painted eyes, and smudged the black colour on her temple. “You… You’ve seen a dragon.”

Somehow Natsu knew she’d say that. He took a drink from his bottle, and so did Erza. Cana did not, to her disappointment.

“Who’s next?” Lucy asked.

“The second youngest. I’ve lived for twenty-three winters,” Cana answered and looked at Natsu. “What about you, half-elf?”

“Guess it’s my turn then,” Natsu said and leaned forward to the table. So, he had to read the others and make legitimate guesses about their past and present lives? He wasn’t good at that, but there was one thing he was sure about Erza, at least. “You’re a bastard child.”

Cana smirked at him as she drank, eagerly swallowing the mead for a lot longer than she needed to, in order to prove the statement correct. Erza drank too, as Natsu had guessed. Her full name was Erza of Rorikstead. Carrying the name of one’s hometown as the last name often meant being a bastard, or being from a family too poor for a family name, like Natsu was.

In Skyrim, bastards weren’t frowned upon, but they weren’t praised either. The children were innocent of their parent’s premarital acts, and deserved not to be despised for it. But, illegitimate children had no right of inheritance, and were often placed in an unfortunate situation compared to their true-born peers.

“Something wrong about it? We might’ve never known our fathers, but at least we know we’ve been born of passion,” Cana said after drinking her share. “But my mama used to say my father was a mage.”

“Really?” Natsu asked.

“Yeah. A nomad, spent a drunken night with my mama, and I was the result,” she told, nearly sounding proud of it. “But well, no magic passed down to me. Only the thirst did. He was a great drinker. That’s all I know about him. Did you two know your fathers?”

Natsu shrugged. “Unfortunately.”

“Many of us here never did,” Cana said and pointed at the twins, who were now brawling on the other side of the hall. “Vilkas and Farkas were brought here as pups. A soldier, off his way to fight in the Great War, dropped them at the doorstep and never came back. They were grown and raised here until they eventually joined.”

“Being orphaned by that terrible, terrible war is a shared wound among many of my generation,” Erza joined the conversation, her tone grim and serious, as it often was. “But for those whose fathers returned, it was much worse. I’m glad that the man who fathered me died in the battle instead of slaughtering his family, mistaking us for Thalmor spies. Those things happened too.”

Igneel had been born during the Great War, and so had Zeref. They had known the shade of the falling empires, lived in constant fear of the battles spreading across their homelands. The things Natsu had heard of were mere, distant echoes, but the shadows were long-stretched. The horrors grew like thin dark vines in the hearts of each citizen of Skyrim.

“I know. There was a homeless man in Helgen who claimed to be a veteran of Great War,” Lucy told, sudden tremors of disgust running down her body. “Everyone feared him. He always told… grotesque tales from the war, not leaving out the goriest detail. We were glad when he died one winter. Nobody missed that rambling about severed limbs.”

“Had a few of those beggars here, too. There was one who practically preached about how men shit themselves when they die,” Cana said and laughed again, her voice rising. “Shit here, shit there, shit everywhere, all day and night until he was taken to jail. Not that the situation has improved, as now Heimskir is preaching about Talos…” She paused, letting her laughter die down. “So, you were from Helgen?”

“Yes… My family were merchants, but they died in the dragon attack, so I… I joined the mage’s college.”

“But why? You should’ve just come here. You’d make a good shield-sister. The way you helped us kill that giant was just… brilliant!”

“Erza actually suggested that, but well, I’ve… I’ve kinda always wanted to be a mage, and that was my chance, so I decided to follow that path instead,” Lucy said. “How did you become a Companion, Cana?”

Cana nodded slowly. “Like most of our band, I found this family after losing my own. I came to Jorrvaskr after my mama died. I was ten, and I didn’t let them take me to the orphanage. I fought the jarl’s men away with two butterknives.”

“So that’s why you wield two swords?” Natsu asked. He could easily imagine her as a little girl, slashing the guards with her knives like she had fought the giant earlier today.

“Yeah. Why have just one when you can have two?” Cana said, left the barrel rest in her lap as she spread her muscular arms. “Dual-wielding comes to me as naturally as everything else in life. If there are two options, I take both of them. I don’t want to experience just half of the world. When I go to Sovngarde, I want to say that I lived my life to the fullest and enjoyed every moment of it.”

“Well, that’s a… good philosophy to live by,” Lucy replied with a faint smile.

“Ha, it’s not the time for discussing philosophies now! Time to move on. Was it my turn now?” Cana asked, and Erza nodded to her. “Alright, so… You’ve kissed someone.”

Natsu almost drank, but then realized that being kissed by his mother probably did not count this time. Trying to keep her face as calm as possible, Erza took a sip from her mug, but to Natsu’s utter surprise, Lucy drank too. Natsu stared at her in disbelief.

“Ah, now I see,” Cana snickered. “That kind of a thing.”

“No, I… That was…” Lucy stuttered, waving her hand at her flushed cheeks. “I-it was only a misunderstanding.”

“Isn’t it getting interesting now!”

Natsu turned her eyes away from Lucy. Though he didn’t need to know what had happened, he couldn’t help but feel curious.

“Let the poor girl be, Cana. Last for the round, I guess it’s me,” Erza said. She thought for a while until a smile rose on her serious lips. “You’ve stolen someone’s sweetroll.”

“You have no right to arrest us based on that, you know,” Natsu said as he took a drink, and so did Lucy and Cana. Erza was the first one to find a statement that applied for them all, and it was no surprise. Unguarded sweetrolls tended to wander into better mouths. The round now began again with Lucy’s turn.

“You’ve killed someone,” Lucy stated, and all three of them drank. It wasn’t a surprise either. The Companions were often hired to clear out bandit hideouts or track down escaped criminals, and Natsu had a fair share of deaths on his account as well, an amount he couldn’t count with his fingers.

As his turn came again, Natsu wondered what he should ask next. Though the claims weren’t direct questions, they were more like digging up details that were either true or untrue, and the purpose of the whole game was to reveal them. But what did he want to get to know? Something deep or something trivial?

“You have tried sleeping tree sap,” Natsu decided to say. Only Cana drank, to his relief. The kiss thing he could somehow get on Lucy’s regard, but if she’d ever done drugs, that would’ve been totally different.

“You’ve thought about trying it,” Cana said in return, eyes tightly locked on him. Natsu had to drink too.

“Only thought,” he defended.

“It isn’t as addictive as skooma, but still fun. I had it, my vision turned all purple and distorted and I was as slow as a drunken horker.”

Natsu chuckled. Igneel had once found a strange bottle from a cave, and thought it was a healing potion. He had drunk half of it. As he started hallucinating and claiming Natsu’s hair had become green, so it turned out the potion was sap from the mystical sleeping tree. Natsu had considered drinking the rest of the bottle, but as Igneel started screaming about the cave being full of bees, he decided not to. For the rest of the night, Igneel fought against imaginary bees, and Natsu laughed his ass off.

“Gods, I remember that. You started seeing horkers everywhere, even mistook our old Kodlak for one!” Erza laughed. “My turn now. You’ve trespassed in someone’s house.”

Everyone took a drink. Again, Cana drank so much that the mead flowed down on her chest. Despite that, she appeared completely sober, compared to Lucy who had no tolerance to strong drinks. Her eyes revealed she was getting fairly drunk, her gaze unfocused and blurry.

“You’ve… you’ve…” Lucy stuttered. Cana took a drink even before Lucy said anything. “You’ve watched someone dear to you die.”

Natsu was the first to drink. He emptied the whole cup and poured himself another one. That wasn’t a fun statement, not at all. Maybe Lucy wasn’t a fun drunk, or hadn’t reached the point yet? Sullenly, Erza took a drink, and Cana followed, even though she had already drunk her share. Her barrel was half empty now.

Natsu’s turn came around again. He shrugged, completely out of ideas what to ask.

“You’ve been in a jail,” he said then. Only Cana drank.

“I passed out in the marketplace and puked in the hunter’s booth. Woke up in the jail the next morning. Erza had to buy me out.”

“You don’t have to explain every time you have to take a drink, you know,” Erza told her.

“I know, but I want to,” Cana smirked as it was her turn. She held tight on her barrel and studied them carefully. “Ha, now I know what to ask. You’re still a virgin.”

Natsu squeezed his fingers around his cup, feeling like a fool – he wasn’t fully sure what the damn word meant. He had heard it being used to describe unmarried women, but he wasn’t one. Lucy took a long drink, her cheeks flaming red. When she lowered her empty bottle to the table, her eyes shot at Natsu, who still hadn’t sipped his drink.

“Natsu!?” Lucy nearly exclaimed, her brown eyes wide as moons. “You… You’ve what? Since… since when?”

“I don’t even know what the damn word means!”

“It means you’ve never slept with anyone,” Cana explained, and as Natsu’s expression stayed just as confused, she clarified, “You know, fucked anyone. Have you lived in a barrel? You’ve got to know what that –“

“Yeah, I get it, I get it,” Natsu answered quickly, embarrassment spreading hot in his neck. He buried his face into the mead cup and drank. “I’m not that ignorant.”

“Thank goodness,” he heard Lucy say.

“But how could that be?” Cana wondered when Natsu lifted his head again. “I’ve heard Bretons are true magicians everywhere: in the battlefield, in the kitchen, and most importantly, in the bed.”

“By Sheogorath’s beard…” he mumbled and covered his eyes with his hands. He did not want to have this conversation. “Well, I… I’ve never –“

Cana leaned forward with a strange smirk. “I could teach you to do it.”

“I know how to do it,” Natsu said, harsh enough to shut her up. The drunken ‘representation’ Igneel had once given him with his fingers was still painfully clear in his memory. Playing oblivious had just proved as a sure way to get out of an awkward situation. “I just don’t want to. Never did and never will. Get it?”

Blood rushed to his cheeks. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to feel comfortable speaking about it, if there even was such a point. Damn, he didn’t even know what to say. Igneel had always teased him about the subject, calling him a eunuch and that sort of a thing, saying he’d feel the need when he’d be older. He was older now, and still didn’t feel it. And when he didn’t think about it, it wasn’t even a problem. At least to him. Just a way he was.

Natsu buried his face into his hands again as Lucy kept staring at him. Why did that Companion woman have to ask that? Sure, she seemed a very straightforward and open-minded person, but she could’ve at least stop talking to him like that. Especially with Lucy around, for having her witnessing all that turned him into the very definition of awkwardness. The last girl who tried to seduce him ended up dead – when would they learn to leave him be?

“That’s strange of a man,” Cana said, rubbing her chin. “You know, I’ve been with half of the men in Whiterun –”

Natsu shook his head. “I don’t really care to know –“

“– and about all of them are like dogs. Dogs, I say!” Cana pointed at the twins. “Just like those two. They only fuck from the behind.”

“Cana,” Erza said, her brows furrowing, “don’t say you’ve been with both Vilkas and Farkas.”

“Not at the same time.”

Lucy’s face was as red as a tomato. “Then how do you not… not, like, have any… consequences, like you, results of a… a drunken night, as you called it,” she mumbled.

“I get it. I only fuck boys when I’m bleeding,” Cana explained. “The rest of the time I go for girls. It has worked so far, if you catch my meaning, ha!”

Natsu stared at them in silence, unable to get a single word out of his mouth. He began to consider joining the wolf twin’s brawl instead of listening to this madness.

“So, keep that in mind, half-elf, if you ever change your mind,” Cana told, drank from her barrel and turned towards the mage. “Don’t be a dog.”

Natsu scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whose turn was it?”

“Mine, I think,” Erza said. Natsu hoped she would change the subject. Anything was better than this. “Alright, so… Continuing with the theme, you’ve never been sweet on anyone.”

Disappointed, Natsu drank, and so did Cana, to his surprise. Lucy hesitated a bit, but then she drank too. Maybe the word never had confused her.

“What about you, Erza?” Cana asked.

“The one who makes the statement doesn’t have to answer to it. I don’t make the rules.”

“But I make, and now you do!”

Erza didn’t drink, but whether it was the answer or just a decline to Cana’s sudden change in rules, wasn’t sure. Natsu thought it was the answer. She was engaged with the man from the Brotherhood, and that had to be more than being just sweet on someone. However, love was a thing even Igneel couldn’t teach him anything about. As Igneel had said, ‘getting his rocks off’ every now and then had nothing to do with love.

While Natsu could somehow understand why people needed some comfort, the concept of an established courtship had always been bizarre to him. He only had his parents’ marriage to reflect upon, but it had been closer to pity than love, more of a prison than a home. When the words had been spoken and the bond of matrimony formed, there was no breaking it, and that thought terrified Natsu.

Cana snickered at Erza’s reaction. “There’s a reason why the guards and old sellswords say ‘I used to be an adventurer like you… then I took an arrow in the knee’,”  she said. “Because love, kids, will be the end of all fun. That’s where the misery begins, and only a goblet of mead in front of the damn hearth will help with that.”

It was the first thing he agreed with her so far. When Natsu had been younger, he had thought that maybe, just maybe he’d one day find a person who’d set up a spark within him. But the older he got, the more he understood that he’d never find that. How could he, when he wasn’t even searching?

“But what if the adventures lose their charm one day?” Lucy commented after a long silence. “If you’d just want to go home and drink that mead in front of the hearth.” ‘

“It happens to some,” Erza answered. “Some of us get tired of the constant fighting and drinking and retire, start a family. Like Bisca and Alzack did. I’ve talked with them sometimes when I meet them at the market. Alzack always says that he misses the warrior’s life sometimes, but every time he holds his daughter in his arms, he knows he made the right choice.”

“If I ever start to babble something like that, you know I’ve caught brain rot,” Cana said, twisting her face in disgust. “Gods, I hope such accidents won’t happen to me. It was so tragic for Bisca. I miss having her as a shield-sister.”

“It isn’t like she’s dead! She’s the happiest she has ever been as a mother.”

“… just w-what are you t-talking about?” Lucy stuttered.

“Two of our companions had a child, nothing more serious,” Erza told. “Things like that tend to happen sometimes. The heat of the battle is the fire that forges the strongest blades.”

“Were they… young?”

“About the same age as me. I was surprised it didn’t happen earlier. They had been a thing for a while,” Erza said and chuckled. “In fact, their daughter was born only five months after their wedding…”

Lucy stared at her mead, swaying from side to side on the bench. “I… Well, my parents always told me about this girl from our hometown. A blacksmith’s daughter, a bit older than me. She… she had ‘a thing’ with the lumberjack’s oldest son and… and she came to be with a child. When she found out, she threw herself into the river. Her family found her washed on the shore of Lake Ilinalta a week later.” Lucy took a drink from her bottle. “And so, my parents warned me not to, you know… do that. That boy’s little brother was my friend, but I never… I’d never…”

“The same story has been told in every town since the dawn of time to scare us from keeping some fun,” Cana said and grinned. “My mother told the same thing to me. Her mother told the same thing to her, and look how much it helped.”

Natsu gazed at Lucy as she suddenly began to talk so much, about things she had never told before. When it came to this subject, she was like him, too shy to speak about it. But with the upbringing she had got, it was no wonder she turned out shy.

His mother had once given him a similar speech, and for him, it had been effective. The only thing he dreaded more than getting married was fathering a bastard. Igneel probably had a share of those running around Skyrim, as results of his drunken nights, but Natsu never wanted to find himself in that situation.

“But it really happened. I remember when the girl went missing,” Lucy said. “I didn’t know her, not personally, but I knew they would’ve… lived, survived, I don’t know. It wasn’t the child, but the town which made her drown herself. The things they said about her, how her life was ruined, how she had no dignity anymore. All kinds of nasty lies.” Lucy took another drink. “Gods I’m glad I don’t live in Helgen anymore.”

“Well,” Cana sighed and shrugged, “that’s a pity. I know alchemists can brew potions to get you rid of the baby. Not that I’ve used them or anything.”

“As that would work,” Natsu said. “My mother ate nightshades to get rid of me. She nearly died and I came out with pink hair, that’s all they did.”

“So you’re a bastard, too?” Cana asked, giving him a long look.

Natsu chuckled. “Just an accident. My brother used to call me ‘Oops’. Shit happens, you know.”

Cana broke into laughter. “I’ll call you Oops from now on ‘cause I already forgot your name. Usually, I forget it in the morning, but maybe if you’re Oops from now on, then I’d remember it… Ha, maybe that’s the first thing I’ll say when I woke up next to ya. Oops!”

“Wait, what? When?”

“C-could you please stop honeying him?” said Lucy, staring at Cana with a worried look.

“Why?” she smirked, silenced for a moment. “Ah, now I get it. You have half a mind to go for him yourself!”

“No! Of course not, I…”

“I said there’s no lying to me.”

Natsu slammed his head on the table, hoping to sink through it. Why did he even open his mouth?

“But it’s not true!” Lucy cried. “Besides, my parents had already betrothed me to a merchant’s lastborn son from Falkreath. Never knew his name, or what he’d be like, even look like, but I always thought I had no… word, in that matter, so I…”

“Well, they ain’t here now, so –“

“I know they aren’t, for fuck’s sake! But I still feel like if I even glance at a boy, my father will come and kill him!”

Natsu lifted his face and nearly shouted, “Goddamnit, whose turn was it in this stupid game?”

“Did we have a game going on?” Cana wondered.

“It was your idea!”

“Maybe it was my turn?” Lucy asked. “Or was it yours, Natsu?”

Natsu knew he couldn’t take the foolish game anymore or he’d go insane. He thought for a moment, and then figured out an escape route. If his statement wouldn’t apply to anyone, he’d be dropped from the game.

“You’ve flown on a dragon’s back,” he said.

Lucy’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard right. Have you rode a dragon?”

“Ain’t nobody ever done that!”

“Well, too bad.”

Cana pointed her finger at him, with a deep frown on her forehead. “You did that on purpose!”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Natsu defended fiercely and stood up. “I’m done! Have fun!”

“Milk drinker,” Cana mumbled as he walked away.

Natsu was more than relieved to leave their company and head to the distant corner more silent and dark and comfortable. Natsu seated on a long bench that lined the wall, positioning his legs under a small table. He placed his left arm, the one still holding the cup, on the table while his right rested in his lap.

From there, he watched as Lucy said something to Cana, and soon they went outside, probably to visit a privy. Natsu hoped she didn’t feel offended or left alone as he quit the drinking game, but he just had to retreat, otherwise his head would’ve exploded. But as he saw Erza following him, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t blow up.

“Don’t quite feel yourself at home in Jorrvaskr?” Erza asked and laid her armoured hand on his shoulder. Her touch made him flinch.

“Not quite,” he sighed.

Erza stood beside the table, not seating herself down. “Maybe you aren’t drunk enough. The reckless fire mage I met two years ago would never back down from a feast.”

Natsu scoffed. “Is it always like this here?”

“Usually,” Erza said. Her gaze travelled across the hall. “But this is my home, and this drunken lout is my family. We Companions have been many things across the pages of history. A conquering army. A band of ruthless mercenaries. And this esteemed group you see before you. But all this time we’ve held on the honour and glory of Ysgamor.”

Natsu didn’t say anything, but he thought it was a great thing to have. Of course, his fellow apprentices in the College were his family, but the bonds weren’t as close as the Companions seemed to have. Igneel had been the only one he was able to call his brother, and sitting there without him made his heart twist in grief once again.

“I see you’ve changed your mind about joining the Stormcloak rebellion?” Erza asked suddenly.

Natsu stared at her for a while. It now felt so absurd he had ever even considered that. The Empire had taken Igneel away from him, but he finally knew that killing them wouldn’t bring him back. “Yeah. Got more important things to do now.”

“That’s good to hear. The news are getting worse and worse every day. We fear that –“

A loud ruckus rose over Erza’s voice. Lucy and Cana had returned, and cheers filled the air as the Companion held a wine bottle on Lucy’s lips.

“Gods, I’ve got to make sure they don’t kill each other,” Erza whispered as she stood up, leaving their conversation unfinished as she left. “Cana! Don’t pour wine down Lucy’s throat!”

When Erza was gone, Natsu thought about Igneel again. All the noises rang in Natsu’s head like a thousand bells, the cups and tankards clashing against one another while voices rose to join uplifting songs. While the mood of the others kept elevating, Natsu’s did not.

Smoke from the fireplace in the middle of the hall filled the air, but he could still somehow see to Lucy. She laughed, she was enjoying her life for the first time since, who knew, forever? It was all that mattered now, yet Natsu still struggled to push the grief aside.

Maybe it, in the end, wasn’t intended to be pushed aside, but embraced tight. Grief was all he had left of Igneel, and it wasn’t ever going to change. No matter how he always hoped, Igneel wouldn’t come back, suddenly appear on the door and flash him the smile he missed so fucking much.

Natsu lifted his cup and wiped his eyes into his sleeve. The damn smoke stung. He leaned his forehead against his wrist, gazed down at the table, studied the patterns of the wood’s annual rings. Tears blurred his vision as he bit his lower lip, and wiped his glistening eyes again. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry, not here, in the hall of honour and glory.

Had Erza been right, saying he wouldn’t have turned down a party two years ago? Had he really changed so much in such a short time? There hadn’t been a worry in his world back then, now there was nothing but worries. Erza might’ve called it maturing, but it was not. It was a series of misfortune, bad choices that now hung around his neck like an iron chain.

Sometimes he felt clearly how everything happened for a reason, how there was a greater fate behind all of this suffering, but at times like this, he just hoped life would stop beating him with its spiked mace. Master Arngeir had told him his role was no accident, but what else could it be than a twisted joke? Would it even be worth anything in the end, if he’d somehow make it through that far?

Natsu sighed, opened his eyes, and drank. The mead tasted bitter now, as if it had turned to sour vinegar. He lowered the cup to the table, unsure about how much time had passed since he had last glanced at them. Lucy now sat in Cana’s lap, the Companion’s arms tightly wrapped around her. One of the twins had found a lute somewhere and struck a few discord chords.

“I know I’m not a bard, but I’d play you one of the first songs I ever learned. The local favorite, Ragnar the Red!” the man announced and was replied with loud cheers.

Natsu rolled his eyes. If there was something worse than drunk Nords in the world, it had to be their drinking songs.

“Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from old Roriksteeead… And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade, as he told of bold battles and gold he had madeee…”

The rest of the Companions joined the song, and so did Lucy. Natsu hadn’t ever heard her singing, only humming faint melodies every now and then. She had a bright voice, clear and sweet, unfit for those violent lyrics.

“But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shield-maiden Matilda, who said; "Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead, now I think it's high time that you lie down and bleeeeed!"

Natsu chuckled at himself when Lucy broke into laughter. Her sense of humour was sometimes very dark, but if it had always been so or had turned like that due to the late events of her life, Natsu didn’t know.

After today, Natsu suddenly felt like he didn’t even know her at all. But maybe he one day would. As the Nord proverb went, one didn’t know a woman before having a strong drink and a fistfight with her. A strong drink he could have with her, but he’d let her win the fistfight. He wouldn’t ever hit her, even in a playful brawl.

But then as his thoughts wandered from the song to fistfights, liquid dripped down Natsu’s fingers. He turned his eyes back to the cup at his hands to see his mead spilled, the drink’s surface following the sidewards momentum of a quick tug. It was only then when he felt a cold, sharp something pressed against his throat.

“Good evening, Natsu of Dragonbridge,” whispered a familiar voice beside him, so close he could feel the warmth of breath on his cheek. “It’s good to finally meet you, in, should I say… flesh and blood. I’d have a brief discussion with you, so please, listen very carefully now… your life might depend on it.”

A strong arm had wrapped around him, locking him into a hold he couldn’t escape from. It had happened too fast for him to grasp. His right hand was stuck beneath the table, as someone pressed themselves against his right side. Natsu glanced slightly towards them, and a strand of azure hair let him know who the man was.

At that moment he understood the cold, sharp thing against his throat was a dagger, hidden inside the long sleeves of the man.

“Then speak,” Natsu answered quietly.

Natsu held his breath, turned his gaze back to the singing and dancing warriors. He looked at Lucy, who swung from side to side in the Companion’s arms. She was smiling, laughing, and did not see him at all as the song continued, and came to an end.

“And so then came clashing and slashing of steel, as the brave lass Matilda charged in, full of zeaal… And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no mooooore, when his ugly red head rolled around on the floooor!”

Chapter Text

‘What in the Oblivion should I do?’

Staying perfectly still, Natsu held his breath, his gaze locked on the dancing and singing Companions on the other side of the hall. His frightened heart raced within his chest, nearly bursting through his ribcage. The blade grazed his throat, ready to slit it open if he made a single sudden movement.

“I know you know something you aren’t supposed to know,” the man said, his voice barely audible. Faintly, he pointed at Lucy. “I know she knows, too. And there is a slight… problem.”

This man had to be Jellal, Natsu assumed. There was no one else it could be. Jellal from the Dark Brotherhood, a professional killer reeking of death and danger. Nothing like the novice cutthroats he had encountered before. Blood rushed in Natsu’s ears as his stomach sunk to the bottom of his body, turning into stone.

‘What in the damned fucking Oblivion should I do?’ he wondered, over and over again, adding more curses each time. His world came to a complete stop as he realised what was going on. ‘Erza must’ve told him. Erza must’ve told him I know about them. Damn!’

Natsu glared at the warrior woman with ire in his eyes. There was no doubt of it. By Sheogorath’s beard, of course she’d told him! Why else would’ve Jellal been out there in the middle of Whiterun, in the guise of a scholar from Cyrodiil? Jellal had to know everything Natsu and Erza had talked about the morning before heading to Kynesgrove. Now he’d come to secure their little secret.

Rage began to simmer in Natsu’s throat, nearly boiling over. He wanted to curse Erza Scarlet to the deepest pit of Oblivion, but then he realised Lucy hadn’t been there. She’d been sleeping when they’d talked, and knew nothing about the disguise. Why would Jellal still claim she knew about it, too? Could it be about Aventus Aretino, then? Natsu bit his tongue, swallowing his fury. Before he was sure what Jellal was after, he couldn’t react, or it would end badly.

Damn, it would end badly anyway, no matter what he did. Getting messed up with the Dark Brotherhood was one thing, but this time they had messed up twice.

“So…” he tried to speak, but the dagger brushed sharply against his skin, forcing him to lower his voice. “You mean –“

“Careful with your words now,” Jellal whispered, louder now before his tone faded back to silence. “I know Erza told you about my… cock warts.”

The mage’s widened eyes shot to the man beside him. His jaw nearly fell to the floor from the utter surprise.

“… what!?”

Jellal chuckled dryly. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know what I mean.”

The mage pinched his brows until he grasped it. To conceal the real reason behind this dispute, Jellal spoke in a code. Of course. If Jorrvaskr’s old maid saw everything, heard everything, and knew everything, it was better to use certain… euphemisms. ‘Cock warts’ appeared to mean his occupation as an assassin. Clever. Even if someone eavesdropped on them, they wouldn’t realise a thing… or at least wouldn’t want to listen for too long.

A small hope sparked in his despairing heart. There could be a way to solve this civilly. If he could talk his way out of this, he wouldn’t end up bleeding. But damn, he wasn’t so good at talking his way out of anything. Lucy would’ve handled it so much better, but she was rather… otherwise occupied.

“Then what’s holding you back?” Natsu asked, deciding to play along. “If you can’t let me live, why not kill me right here and now?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you first, from man to man.” Jellal paused and cleared his throat. “You see, I could let you live, under certain… conditions. I’ll try to make this quick. So, tell me – which one of you killed the chicken in Riverwood?

As Jellal gestured towards Lucy, Natsu understood what he meant. That’s what Jellal wanted to know? The chicken meant the dragon, and Riverwood meant Kynesgrove. So, Erza hadn’t told him who the Dragonborn was? Ironic of her to keep one promise while breaking another. Her honour was already tarnished.

“You’re sure you want to have that discussion here?” Natsu questioned, as quietly as he could. He thanked the gods of alcohol for not being as drunk as he could be. Had he drunk wine or booze as he had in Fort Amol, he would’ve already fucked this up. Mead was merciful when it came to that matter. It made his mind slower, but not duller.

“It’s not my first choice, you see, as you weren’t quite… willing, for a private chat. This is good enough. The Companions don’t listen to whispers,” Jellal answered and cocked his head. A faint snap sounded from his neck. “Once again. Was it her, or was it you? Because if you don’t tell me, I’m afraid you won’t be walking out of this hall alive.”

‘Willing for a private chat?’  Natsu didn’t understand it. He bit his cheek, hard enough to taste blood in his mouth. ‘But still, he wants to know who the Dragonborn is… and I must not tell him. There has to be a way to deceive him, but…’

Across the hall, Lucy sat laughing in Cana’s lap. What they talked about, Natsu couldn’t hear. The lute had now passed to the huntress woman, who played a melody to which there were no words. The twins brawled again and Cana poured more wine in Lucy’s mouth, the red liquid spilling as she tried to hold back the giggling. So, that’s what happened when a girl spent a month in the monastery?

‘Damn it, Lucy’, Natsu thought. He watched as Cana pulled back the bottle and pressed a drunken kiss on Lucy’s chin, licking off the spilt wine. ‘I need a little help here…’

Natsu sighed. No matter what, he wouldn’t sell her out to this creep. They had all agreed on it. She’d be in grave danger if the information would spread. Besides, the question had nothing to do with Jellal’s so-called dragon research. If it had, he could ask directly from Lucy. Something was wrong, and Natsu did not like it in the slightest.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked then, frustration growing in his voice. “I can’t trust that –“

“Knowledge for knowledge,” Jellal interrupted. “I can’t trust you if you don’t give me something in return.”

Natsu began to tremble in rage he desperately tried to keep at bay. Trapping him like this wasn’t just humiliating, it was unfair. He couldn’t do anything except speak. His every spell took a second to charge, and one second was too much now. He couldn’t kick him off, he couldn’t punch him to the face, not even knock him with his head, for he knew the smallest movement would trigger the blade held on his throat.

“This ain’t fair,” Natsu hissed and gazed at Erza. “That beast told me about your ‘cock warts’, so kill her, not me.”

Jellal silenced as his gaze lingered on the warrior woman. A strange fire flickered in his eyes, a fire which Natsu hadn’t seen before. Like possession mixed with obsession, the assassin looked at Erza like there wasn’t anyone else in the world at that moment.

“You still don’t quite understand, don’t you?” he whispered then with a choked laugh. “That would be… unspeakable. She might’ve made a mistake, yes, but I’ve forgiven all of her mistakes. I always will. Now I’m just… cleaning up the mess.”

A drop of cold sweat rolled down on his forehead. For the briefest moment, Natsu searched for the glass dagger once secured on his belt, but it wasn’t there. He cursed under his breath. His only escape was still stuck in the eyes of the frost troll guarding the seven thousand steps.

“Then spare some of that forgiveness to me, too,” Natsu whispered.

“Yes, I will, after you tell me who killed the chicken in Riverwood.”

“How would you know I’m not lying? Get that butterknife off my goddamn throat and then we can talk. A man would say anything when held on a blade.”

“Not yet,” Jellal stated coldly. His hold around him persisted. “After we’ve talked, when I’ve decided if you’re worth not slitting your throat with this butterknife.”

Natsu grit his teeth. “You wouldn’t do it in a hall full of people, you fucking idiot. All I need to do is scream, and your little cover would be all blown up.”

“Wouldn’t I? Ever tried screaming through an opened windpipe? That would be quite a whistle. Too bad, no one would hear it. A smart man would know not to do anything stupid when held on a blade,” the assassin spoke, the rhythm of his words calm and calculated. “You’re testing my patience, my dear. One last time: is it her, or is it you?”

Suddenly, Natsu understood that it would be so easy for this man to just pull him off the bench, slit his throat and leave him to bleed out under the table. No one would notice. And after he’d be dead and done, Jellal would do the same for Lucy, once she’d be released from the Companion’s tight hold. Just as easily, Jellal would claim to escort Lucy to the inn, stab her through the neck in the night, and toss her body to the sewers.

Natsu’s thoughts ran back to the early morning he escaped Embershard mine with Lucy. He had forgotten all about Erza Scarlet until she emerged from the forest to the road, ruthlessly putting wolves to her sword. And as she had threatened to arrest him, his grief-ridden mind had remembered the thing Erza had accidentally slipped two years ago. It had been his only defence then, how could’ve he known it would lead to this?

As a matter of fact, back then he wouldn’t have believed anything would ever lead him to where he was now. Damn, he shouldn’t have threatened to tell the jarl about her connection to the Dark Brotherhood. Jellal must’ve heard about that, too. To the assassin, Natsu was just a threat to be eliminated.

“Alright,” Natsu hissed. “I get it, you’re pissed, but it’s still not my fault! I promise I won’t tell anyone.” He gazed at Lucy again. “And she probably doesn’t even remember it. Is that enough?”

“You’re not very good at this, aren’t you?” Jellal asked. “What would be your reason to keep that promise?”

Abashed, Natsu couldn’t say anything. He would never tell anyone, ever again, but how could he make him believe it? His reasons weren’t good enough for a member of the Brotherhood. Yes, he’d keep the promise because he didn’t want to die, but it would be just a joke in an assassin’s books. He had probably heard that line too many times before. When faced with a Brotherhood’s blade, nobody wanted to die.

Jellal needed knowledge, as heavy and crucial as the one Natsu had. Something to hold his tongue forever in chains, something to make them square. Only then he could live. He had no choice but to tell, yet he still refused to accept it.

What had he even expected when he thought he’d have no consequences about this matter? He should’ve known it the moment he saw the disguised assassin in the plaza that he’d be in big trouble. Most importantly, he shouldn’t have let his guard down. Right now, sitting there trapped with a dagger held on his throat, he felt like the stupidest man in the whole world.

“Let’s play out a little scenario, shall we?” Jellal whispered as Natsu stayed quiet. “If you’d happen to break that promise, bad things will happen to me and my partner. People with cock warts have been hunted down lately, and so we wouldn’t be around anymore to make you pay. It’s quite a huge risk, if you understand, a risk I’m not willing to take without a good reason. If you happened to be just some commonfolk, then I would’ve already exposed of you. But I’ve had this doubt, this feeling in my gut that one of you is rather… important.”

Cold shivers ran down Natsu’s spine, making him shudder from disgust. He remained silent, fearing what he’d say next.

“Have you heard of the chicken cults? Those who still worship the chickens as gods?”

Natsu didn’t like at all where it was going, as his insides kept on twisting. “Not really. I just know they exist.”

“A very ancient order. Even as we speak, they’re searching for the one who’s destined to kill the chickens. They just don’t know who they’re searching for.” A wicked grin roused on Jellal’s lips. ”They’d be more than happy to be told who that one is.”

In utter silence, Natsu stared at Lucy, who was now absorbed into a heated embrace with Cana. Suddenly he felt so cold, abandoned. Why couldn’t she just look for him? All she’d need to do was to notice him, and Jellal would go away – the assassin’s plan worked only until someone saw them. But Lucy didn’t, and probably wouldn’t. And even if she did, it would just look like someone had caught him in a brotherly hug from the side, when in reality, it couldn’t be further away from that.

Everything in him wanted to break away from the humiliating hold, and strangle the assassin to death. Mentioning the dragon cult was too much. It was the very reason they had decided to keep her identity a secret. If the cultists would get their hands on her, the whole world would be doomed.

“Let’s imagine it would be her,” Jellal started and eyed at Lucy with a sinister sparkle in his dark eyes. “Let’s also imagine what happens if you ever tell anyone about me again.”

Natsu squeezed his fingers into fists to suffocate the sparking flames. Jellal was so dangerously close to the truth that Natsu didn’t know how to escape it anymore. He closed his eyes and breathed in, realising what Jellal tried to achieve.

The morning before Kynesgrove, Natsu had asked Erza what would happen if anyone found out about them. She’d told the Jarl’s men would torture the Sanctuary’s location out of her, and then execute her for treason. Back then, Natsu had even sympathised with them. Little he knew about courtship, but he’d thought it would be miserable not to see the one you cared about. Now he despised himself for giving them a single crumb of empathy. None of them deserved any of it.

“I’d give her name, outlooks, and habits to the chicken cultists,” Jellal spoke slowly, as if he enjoyed it, savouring each word. “They’d hunt her down, no matter where she tries to hide. They’d capture her, no matter how she tries to defend. They’d break her apart, no matter how she tries to fight. Then they’d kill her, no matter how you try to prevent it.” He paused for a breath. “Because for my special wish, you’ll have to witness that before they kill you too. It would be excellent revenge, wouldn’t it?”

Blankly, Natsu stared at Lucy. Even still, she did not see him. She did not know at all what was going on. The red-haired huntress now played a sweet ballad while Cana kept drowning Lucy in drunken kisses. She giggled between them, merrily embracing another one. Natsu hadn’t ever seen her so happy.

‘He wouldn’t do that. He’s just threatening me, he wants to frighten me into silence…’ Natsu tried to assure himself, failing. He was frightened. ‘She’s too valuable to be wasted like that. She’s innocent of this. The world depends on her, and he wouldn’t be so selfish to ruin it all for the sake of his own… right?’

“You still need some convincing?” Jellal continued and chuckled, perhaps noticing how long he had looked at Lucy. “You see, she’s a pretty lass, perfect for the cultists to destroy. I’ve heard legends about their torture methods. They’re rather… creative when it comes to causing pain and suffering. Who knows how long they’d enjoy turning her inside out? Weeks, or months? She would no longer smile, no longer laugh, ever again –“

Shivering, Natsu forced his eyes shut, trying to banish the brutal image from his mind. Jellal’s venomous words painted a clear picture, so vivid he could see the blood, hear her screams… and he couldn’t bear it. Not as a thought, not in reality, for just envisioning it was enough to rip him apart.

“You bastard lay one bloody finger on her,” Natsu blazed, low and monotonous, “and I’ll turn you into a pile of ashes.”

Even though his anger was enough to freeze him, he meant every word he said. It was sickening. Utterly sickening. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, at whatever cost.  Be it a dragon cultist or an assassin, he’d burn them all if they’d even dare to scratch her. Excellent revenge, as Jellal had called it. He’d sworn to protect her, and he intended to keep that promise.

Jellal only chuckled as a reply. “You like to protect your world, same as me. I’ll think we’ll come into an… understanding. It’s her, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, Natsu’s blood turned cold. His anger twisted into immeasurable regret when he realized Jellal had wanted to know which one of them was important. Now he knew. Because if she wasn’t, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. He wouldn’t have reacted at all.

He had offered the Dragonborn’s identity to him on a silver plate.

“You wouldn’t do that,” Natsu muttered, voice trembling. “You wouldn’t, because –“

“– she’s the one to save us all?” Jellal finished for him. “You see, at that point, I’ll have no need for the world anymore. Let it end and be reborn all the same. Mine would be already over.”

Glumly, the mage lowered his gaze in shame and frustration. It was pointless to fight anymore. The damage was already done. “Yes, you son of a bitch. It’s her,” he muttered, despondent. “What do you want now?“

A mischievous grin flashed on Jellal’s face. “Your part of the bargain is to keep your mouth shut. You keep my secret safe, and I’ll keep yours. Do you agree to that?”

“Yes.”

“Smart man,” Jellal chuckled. “It’s a deal, then. We are partners now in a pledge of silence. Actually, we could work together, if you’d like to hear my suggestion.”

The assassin’s words echoed in Natsu’s head as he drowned deeper into guilt. The other voices around him faded, leaving behind the paralyzing self-hatred which pointed its finger at him, calling him a liar, a traitor, a defiler. Through tears blurring his vision, he looked at Lucy, feeling like he could never talk to her again after this.

He had sworn to protect her. Damn, in the name of his deceased best friend, he had sworn to protect her until he’d leave this world, and now he’d sold her out like she was nothing. And for what? Just to save his own skin? He tried to assure himself he had no choice, but in the end, there was always a choice. He just hadn’t taken it.

“Can you let go of me now?” the mage asked silently.

Jellal nodded. “Of course,” he answered and released him.

Natsu emptied his lungs with a long sigh, finally able to breathe properly. He lifted his hand to his neck, and few drops of blood stained his fingers. Jellal hid his blade back into his sleeve. Just a moment ago he hadn’t been able to make sense of the words the others spoke, but now the sounds of the feast carried to the mage again. As if he had been under the water and then surfaced, gasping for air.

“Before we begin our partnership,” Jellal began, cocking his head again. “I’d like to know why my first plan to talk with you failed. What did I miscalculate?”

Furrowing his brows, Natsu turned to the assassin. “Which plan?” he asked.

Now was the first time he saw his face fully. Jellal seemed older than him, maybe around the same age as his brother. A strange tattoo adorned his right eye, his sharp chin was shaved clean and the skin pale from the lack of sunlight.

“Ah, my first plan wasn’t such a great success indeed. I thought I’d… friendly invite you into a, well, how should I put this… into a safe vault where I’d keep you until I would’ve figured out what to do with you,” Jellal answered and pointed at his shoulder. “She didn’t even miss an arrow. How did you make it?”

With blankness filling his mind, Natsu stared at his mead cup. The reflections of the torches on the wall shone on the liquid’s surface, dancing as he swirled it nervously in his hold. So, the attacker in the woods had nothing to do with Aventus Aretino? Had Jellal hired the girl to capture them? Natsu swallowed. He had blamed Lucy for nothing – it had been all his fault in the end.

If it was true, then Jellal must’ve found the girl’s remains. But how did he know the arrow had hit his shoulder? Natsu’s eyes widened as he remembered the strange feeling he had in the inn at Windhelm, when he’d stripped his blood-stained cloak. ‘Gods, that’s just a scratch to you?’  had Lucy asked as she’d seen his wound. The figure hiding in the shades must’ve been Jellal.

“The poison didn’t work on me,” Natsu mumbled, apathy conquering his voice.

“Well, wouldn’t have guessed that. Damn. Elsen was a good girl. But so was your knifework,” Jellal chuckled, a twisted grin on his lips. “But, things turned out well enough in the end, didn’t they?”

So, Elsen had been the girl’s name? Natsu’s chest hollowed the same way it had done when he had killed her. He had never known the names of those he killed, and knowing it now brought back all the guilt he had managed to push aside. She had been a person, not a nameless object. Her friends, Felrys and the others, were still searching for her and waiting for her at home, but she’d never come back. She now lay on the forest floor as a laden table for the vultures to feast on, all thanks to him.

‘No, all thanks to you,’  Natsu thought as he stared at the assassin from under his brows. He had stayed up so many nights and dwelled in so much guilt and fear he nearly lost his mind. And why? Everything had been because of this immeasurably stupid, worthless thing. When he looked at Jellal, he felt so enraged he could crush a giant’s head as easily as if it was only a bug. And yet, he couldn’t do anything. Not a single thing.

“Can’t tell yet,” he said, swallowing his bitterness.

“You should know that I am not your enemy. As I said, we could work together now, thanks to the information you’ve given me,” Jellal answered. “I’ve got a place in the Jarl’s service. I can provide you with everything you need on your next mission. I have an idea I’ll hone a bit more today, and I’ll introduce it to you tomorrow in the council.”

Natsu turned his head and looked Jellal into the eyes, repulsed by the thought that the bastard had forced him into an alliance. Just because he’d taken off the blade didn’t mean Natsu trusted in him. The man was a threat, as a great fireball on the verge of exploding. He could double-cross him anytime if he just felt like it – how could he ever trust he wouldn’t?

“You aren’t going to tell the Jarl about her?” Natsu asked silently.

“Of course not. But in order to help you, I need to know where you’re headed next.”

Natsu hesitated for a moment, but then realized he had nothing left to lose. The worst had happened already when revealed Lucy’s identity to him. “To Ustengrav,” he said sullenly. “Why’d you want to help us anyway?”

Jellal smirked. “You know, I’ve been researching into the… chickens for a good while. When it comes to defeating them, she is the missing piece. The key. Though our reasons might be different, we have the same goal. To save the world.”

The sudden change in the man’s endeavour shocked the mage. A moment ago he had threatened to kill him, and now he pretended they were some great heroes? Natsu frowned, looking as Jellal gazed at Erza across the hall.

Natsu chuckled. “So you’re up to save the world, you piece of shit? Why?”

“Because Erza is terrified of them. Has always been. That’s why. I’m going to give her a world where there are no chickens, and that’s why I need you… or her,” Jellal eyed at Lucy again. “But it seems you come as a part of the package.”

Just as Natsu had initially thought, Jellal didn’t come to him asking who the Dragonborn was. He’d come here to extort him, and only used Lucy as a plaything. The knowledge was just a side-product he had gained.

“From now on, you are just survivors from Helgen seeking to avenge the family and friends you lost,” Jellal kept explaining as Natsu sat in catatonic silence. “I’ll give you a place in our research team from which you can operate safely and well-equipped. Especially after what happened in Rorikstead, the Jarl is more than eager to have all the help he can get.”

Hearing Rorikstead made his heart skip a beat. They’d mentioned it earlier today, but never spoken more about it.

“What happened there?” Natsu asked.

“A dragon attacked the village.”

Natsu’s eyes shot to the assassin again. He struggled to believe it, but no lies resonated in the man’s voice. Could it be true? Had it been the same dragon that destroyed Helgen, or another one? Natsu’s heart twisted at the thought of others having to suffer the same terrors he had gone through with Lucy. The return of the dragons was inevitable, it seemed, and thinking they wouldn’t attack more settlements was just false hope. 

He had wondered what had happened meanwhile they were stuck in High Hrothgar, and now he knew. Even his worst fears didn’t compare to this.

His lips parted, but he couldn’t say anything except mumble a silent curse. “… shit.”

“There was only one survivor. An older man came to Whiterun to tell about it, but then he… came to a very desperate decision,” Jellal said and paused. “He threw himself from the Dragonsreach’s balcony. But considering what he had to witness, it was more than… understandable.”

Natsu was taken over by complete silence, as a small moment to spare for those who’d lost their lives. Another village blazed in dragonfire, a beginning of an end. If they just hadn’t been in the monastery for so long…

“You’ll hear more about that tomorrow. I’ve got to go now,” Jellal said and rose from the table. “Pleasure to meet you, Natsu of Dragonbridge. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Still shocked about the news from Rorikstead, Natsu stared at his mead cup and sighed. When he lifted his head again, the assassin had already disappeared. Relieved that he was gone, he brought the cup to his lips and drank to the last drop. Then he smashed the cup to the table, cracks appearing to the wood. His fingers squeezed around the handle as he resisted the urge to smash it again, and again, and again, until the whole table would’ve been turned into smithereens.

Everything, simply everything was going to ruin.

He didn’t know if he was more enraged at Jellal or himself. He wanted to run after the assassin and strangle him, in front of all these people, not caring at all what they’d think or say. At the same time, he wanted to jump into a well and stay there forever. How could he face Lucy now? Could he even tell her about what he had done? He had to tell her about Rorikstead, too, but would she take the news without shattering?

“Scarlet,” said someone across the distance. Natsu lifted his head, and saw Jellal standing at the doors of the hall. “Important information regarding tomorrow’s council. Meet me immediately in your quarters.”

When, or how, had he gone there? Could he turn invisible or go through the walls? He walked around like a shade, a ghost lingering in the evening dusk, and suddenly Natsu understood what the man’s divine blessing was. His gift was to move unseen and unheard, even hide in a plain slight – and for an assassin, such a gift was beyond perfect.

“It’s a bit too obvious you’re going to fucking,” Cana declared, and Natsu could see her perverted grin from afar.

“That’s most inappropriate, Cana,” Erza answered strictly. “We’re involved in serious research here. So please, I must be excused.”

Jellal only chuckled and walked in. His steps made absolutely no noise. He was tall and slender, delicate in his movement as he guided Erza towards the stairway. He tried to place his hand on her back, but she slapped it away, giving him a fierce stare which only made him smirk.

Natsu looked down again. If those two were so obvious and open about their courtship, the truth was doomed to be revealed sooner or later. Would Jellal blame Natsu then, and take his revenge on him? The thought only strengthened the urge to murder him right ahead. Would it take care of the problem or breed a dozen more? Natsu didn’t know anything anymore.

“Who would’ve thought Erza would find herself a scholar?” Cana wondered loudly when the two had gone downstairs. “There’s plenty of strong, free warriors in Jorrvaskr.”

“M-maybe sheees fonder of teh mind, or… or brainsh i-instead of… mussle?” Lucy asked.

Natsu hadn’t heard her voice in a while. The wine had made her slur helplessly. It would’ve been funny if the situation hadn’t turned into this. Compared to her, Cana spoke clearly as if she was perfectly sober, which Natsu doubted. The Companion had also had a fair share of drink too, and it showed through the way she talked, and what she talked about.

“You feel the energy he resonates, how he walks around knowing he’s got the biggest cock in town?” Cana jested, grinning again. “Erza’s only fond of that. Yeah, yeah, they say it’s only professional manner, but damn, Erza must’ve been like ‘By the Gods, what is that thing? Could the legends of the giant willy be true!?’ when she first saw him naked.”

Suddenly, Cana stood up and placed Lucy on the chair they’d been sitting at. Then she climbed up on the table in front of Lucy, spread her arms, fingers pointing to her groin. “It’s the end times! The end times have come!”

Lucy broke into a burst of laughter and welcomed Cana into a warm hug as she jumped down from the table. Even Natsu had to chuckle. It seemed Jellal, or ‘Mystogan’ as the others knew him as, only had that cock for brains. There was no other way he could be that stupid. At least now Natsu knew what couples did. They risked everything and selfishly ruined the lives of everyone around them only for the chance to… well, he didn’t want to know the details of what was going on in their bedchamber.

“Why else would he be like,” Cana grabbed Lucy from the bare thighs as she lifted her into her arms, “Come on, Scarlet, we’ve got some serious research to do! In the bed!”

As Lucy kept laughing, Cana pulled her into another kiss. She did not resist. Lucy wrapped her arms around Cana’s neck, whose hands now groped her chest, and Natsu didn’t want to see more. He shielded his face with his hands, wondering if that was what Cana meant when she said she didn’t want to experience just half of the world. At least she took each opportunity she got and enjoyed it to the fullest, that Natsu did not doubt, but Lucy? He had not expected her to be like that, too. Not that it mattered to him anyway.

Natsu rested his aching forehead into his hand and stared at the table. Lucy’s drunken preferences weren’t his concern, so he tried to forget what he just saw, and think for a solution to bigger problems at hand. He had to tell Lucy, but how? How could he ever tell her what he had done? His headache grew the more he thought, to the point where he only wanted to slam his head through the table.

“Erza has been lonely. You’ve claimed half of our men for yourself, Cana,” said someone. Natsu couldn’t connect her voice to the name, but he lowered his hands from his eyes. Observing the feast wouldn’t make his mistake go away, but he knew couldn’t figure it out now. He had to sleep over it, and then decide what to do.

“We all know Erza’s one true love is the strawberry cake Tilma bakes,” Cana replied. Lucy rested her head on the Companion’s chest, looking like she’d fall asleep any moment. Cana sipped from the wine bottle and offered it to Lucy, but she didn’t even notice. “Remember when Vilkas dropped her cake slice and Farkas stepped on it? She gave them both an extra beating!”

The whole hall roared in laughter.

“Erza is just too smart for our brutes,” the red-haired huntress stated. “Even you, Vilkas, even though they say you’ve got the smarts of Ysgamor.”

“And I have his strength!” responded Farkas as he finally threw his brother to the ground. Their brawl came to a conclusion, claiming him as a winner. “For the final damn time, we’re keeping the whelp!”

“There’s no way in the world we’d keep him!” Vilkas shouted from the floor and wiped the blood dripping from his nose. “He’s a mage, Farkas, not a warrior!”

“A man who wins Erza in a brawl is a warrior!”

Natsu gulped. They were talking about him. He shielded his face with his hands again, hoping they wouldn’t see him. Right now, he didn’t want to be included in the feast. Not anymore.

Vilkas shook his head as he struggled to get standing. “That had to be a lie! No-one has won against Erza, ever!”

“Ya meen Natshu?” Lucy suddenly asked, lifting her head from Cana’s lap. “A-actually, I… I was theer wen… t-they brawled, and he reelly won.”

“See? He’s strong!” Farkas declared to his brother. “He should be a Companion! I’d speak for him, as a shield-brother!”

“Gods, stop it already –“

“I’d stand to witness to the courage of a soul before us!” Farkas began fiercely. He lifted a mead cup to the air and continued, his shout echoing on the wooden walls. “I’d raise my shield in his defence and stand at his back, so that the world would never overtake us! My sword stands ready to meet the blood of his foes! I’d raise a mug to his name, lead the song of triumph as our mead hall revels in his stories!”

Natsu pressed face into his hands and shook his head, trying so hard not to cry. He wasn’t a victim now. Lucy had trusted in him, yet he had broken it in the worst possible way. He could’ve as well given her identity to the cultists himself. And as the Companions kept praising him for winning some stupid brawl, Natsu felt himself sinking to the smallest he had ever been.

“… where is he even?” Vilkas asked, gazing around. “See, you scared him away, Farkas.”

“D-did he leeev?” Lucy wondered aloud. Her speech was barely understandable. “Natshu? Wheer did ya goooo?”

A bit too late, Lucy searched around, soon spotting him in the corner of the hall. He cursed silently, wiped his eyes to his sleeve and raised his head.

“Theeeerh he ish!” she exclaimed and pointed at him. A wide smile lightened her face, but her eyes were lost in fog as they met his. “Natshu! Come here!”

Natsu sighed as his hiding place was now exposed. He would’ve wanted to stay in his corner for a moment longer. Maybe forever. He left the mead cup on the table and stood up, his legs numb as he walked to Lucy. She rested her head on Cana’s chest again, humming silently when Natsu stopped near them.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Natsu asked when he arrived. Keeping his voice regular was a struggle. He avoided the gazes of the other Companions. It embarrassed him to death now that they all knew he had won Erza in a brawl – Lucy had forgotten to mention that the warrior didn’t have her armour on that time. Even Natsu had to admit that he wouldn’t have stood a chance if she’d been all clad in steel plates.

“Farkas wants you to join the Companions,” Cana answered and pointed at the wolf twin, winking.

“What the…” the mage sighed, nervously glancing at Farkas, who smirked at him. “I already said, I’m not –“

Farkas interrupted him fiercely. “Fight me, new blood!”

Natsu turned his eyes to his feet. Maybe once before, he would’ve picked up a quarrel with the Companion, but now he had learned to choose his battles. This one would end badly. He couldn’t afford to find himself beaten to death’s door tonight when he was still struggling in the aftermath of his former bad choices.

“No thanks…” he muttered. From the corner of his eye, he saw how the Companion crossed his arms on his armoured chest.

“Hhmp,” Farkas snorted. “Sucks for you.” 

Natsu scratched the back of his head. Farkas stared at him for a moment before heading back to the feast table. The Companion took a whole roasted goat’s leg from the pan and sat down to devour it, and Natsu wanted to puke. He had thought College used to be weird sometimes, but this place took it on a whole new level.

Everything was simply too much.

“Join us instead!” Cana suggested loudly, beckoning at him. She pressed her face against Lucy’s cheeks and smiled. “Get two for one today.”

Natsu shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”

“C’mon, it would be fun. Let loose and enjoy life for once. We’re all gonna die anyway soon.”

Natsu eyed the woman, who kissed Lucy again. While Cana seemed to welcome the end of the world, Natsu didn’t share the same mindset. And even if he did, that wasn’t the way he’d spend his last days. Life was short in Skyrim indeed, but it didn’t need to be messy. He got enough worries to last for the rest of his days anyway.

“Hurry up, you’re gonna regret it if –“

“Come on, Lucy, let’s go,” Natsu announced abruptly and grabbed Lucy’s wrist. He tugged her out of Cana’s arms, the girl fumbling to maintain her balance on the floor. “We’re leaving.”

“Wheeer?” she asked, eyes open wide as she clutched into his sleeve.

“To The Bannered Mare,” Natsu answered and gestured towards the doors. “We’ll both get our arses raped if we stay here tonight.”

Lucy blinked many times. She didn’t seem to understand what he meant. They had originally meant to stay in Jorrvaskr for the night, but the longer they’d been there, the more Natsu felt like it would be a terrible idea. Especially for Lucy. She had had way too much to drink, and barely knew where she was or what she was doing. Perhaps she still thought she was in the monastery. Natsu wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of that.

Besides, Natsu would never stay under the same roof with an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood.

“Yeah, I can totally see through you guys,” Cana told with bitterness in her voice. “It’s soooo obvious that you’re going to –“

“Shut up, for fuck’s sake,” the mage grunted at her. As a quick defence, he pointed at his robes. “I’m a monk, you see? A sworn brother. I wouldn’t do that.”

Cana seemed to believe his lie, as she failed to give anything back to him. Probably she didn’t remember anything they’d talked about earlier. Still, a sour expression stayed on her face as he dragged Lucy away.

“Can you walk?” Natsu asked her when he let go of her arm.

“Suuuuure,” Lucy answered as she followed him, her steps swaying and tangled. “W-wait, wheeer did I leave m-my t-things?”

“In Erza’s quarters,” Cana answered. “Maybe better not to go there now. She can bring them to you tomorrow.”

Natsu snorted. “Indeed.”

Lucy stared at both of them blankly, but then nodded. She kept nodding far longer than she needed to. Natsu headed to pick up his backpack in the rack by the doors, and meanwhile, Lucy tumbled on the stairs. Reluctantly, and painfully aware of Cana’s stare on them, Natsu helped Lucy on her feet again and walked her to the door.

Natsu took his travelling cloak from the rack he had left it, held it for a moment as he looked at Lucy’s rather not-warming outfit. She always complained about the cold. Knowing she’d freeze herself out there, Natsu placed the cloak on her shoulders instead and tied the harness so it wouldn’t fall.

Sighing, he turned to take one last glance on the mead hall. He considered saying a word of thanks for the food and the drink, but no one except Cana paid any attention to them anyway. He nodded to her before grabbing the doorknobs and pushing open the heavy wooden doors.

“Thanksh for teh feestht!” Lucy hollered as Natsu nudged her outside. “I had veeery… veery… musch fun!”

As they stepped into the cold night air, Natsu felt a sense of relief. The hall had been filled with the stench of smoke, mead, and sweat. He raised his eyes to the bright, starlit sky and listened for a moment as the feast carried on behind the closed doors. Perhaps never had he been so glad to leave a party behind, even though the night was as cold as a grave.

Natsu somehow knew where to head. It had been a while since he’d been to Whiterun, but he remembered the inn was near the marketplace. After he’d set forth, Lucy took fumbling steps forward. The ground was slick with gathered moisture, and she fell again on the stones beneath her. She whimpered, rubbing her feet through the leather boots.

“Natshuuu, my ankhlesh hurt agen…” she whined and gazed at him, a strange plea in her black-painted eyes. “C-could ya –“

“No,” Natsu answered straight ahead. He already knew what she’d ask. “Sorry. Not now.”

She sniffled and got up with absolutely no problem at all, just as he had guessed. “O-okay…”

Natsu flinched as Lucy then grabbed his sleeve for support as she headed to the stairs. Though at that moment he barely tolerated being touched, he let her hold onto his arm. It was still better than have her plunge down the stairway to the plaza.

As they went in the night, Lucy kept talking without a moment’s pause. Natsu couldn’t understand half of it, but he had to chuckle as she began to hum some senseless songs. They didn’t make his distraught thoughts vanish, but offered enough distraction for him to not fully plummet into despair.

“I’m sooo hungry… need a shweetroll… or a  carrot… tra la la, tra la lee, da da dum dum, dee dee...”

Reaching the sacred tree in the middle of the plaza, Lucy suddenly stopped. She lifted her face to see the branches spreading across the night sky. The stars and the moons sparkled in her dark eyes, and suddenly she went so silent. Natsu looked at her as her face grew paler, sicker almost. She swayed, closed her eyes and lowered her head.

“I…. I-I’m gonna…”

She couldn’t say anything else as she bent forward. Swiftly, Natsu caught her hair as she threw up with force. Bloodred liquid mixed with bile now flowed down the trunk of the sacred tree. Natsu’s chest tightened in fear of it being blood, but then he remembered the wine she had drunk. It had been red as well.

“Better now?” Natsu asked her as she kept gagging and coughing.

Lucy nodded repeatedly and then wiped her mouth to her arm bracers. “S-shorry…”

Natsu tried to pull her back up, but she stayed like that for a moment. Taking support from her knees, she vomited again. Cringing, Natsu snorted and looked up, still holding her hair. Torchlight glowed in the darkness, creeping closer as the night guard patrolled the streets. They’d better get going before anyone would notice them dishonouring Gildergreen.

“Hurry up,” Natsu urged her, gently tugging her shoulder. Nervously, he glanced at the guard closing in. “We, uhm… we better get going.”

Lucy trembled from head to toes as she lifted her head. She gazed around, but didn’t seem to understand where she was.

“It’s… It’s dark…” she began silently as panic grew in her voice. “Natshu! I… I can’t shee! I’ve… I’ve come blind!”

Natsu held back a laugh. “Lucy, it’s… It’s just night. Come on, let’s head to the inn.”

“But I’m blind!”

“No, you’re completely wasted,” he sighed, grabbed her arm and guided her towards the gate which led to the lower district of the city. “Don’t worry. It will wear up soon.”

The guard passed them by and greeted them with a slight nod. His glare persisted them for a moment, making sure they caused no commotion. Natsu was relieved when the guard went away, and hoped he wouldn’t go investigate what happened to the tree…

Even though the evening had been disastrous for him, being alone with Lucy again wasn’t so bad. He didn’t pity her shape – he’d been there too, and much worse than that. As she was exploring the life out of Helgen’s walls, this was inevitable to happen, but Natsu hoped she wouldn’t make a habit out of that. Maybe next morning would teach her the lesson.

Lucy didn’t speak anymore as they walked through the empty marketplace. Her steps were weak, powerless as he dragged her along in the night. Fires burned near the inn’s entrance, welcoming weary travellers and drunken citizens. Not a soul seemed to be awake at this wee hour. If someone was, they’d be in the Bannered Mare, and those were the ones who drank until it was dawn.

The doors of the inn were open, as they always were. Natsu embraced the warmth in his freezing bones. A firepit was placed in the middle of the hall, and a few patrons still drank their meads around the flames. Natsu helped Lucy over the threshold and closed the door behind him. Heads turned towards them as they appeared, but turned away as fast.

“Alright, so…” Natsu started and put Lucy into a chair. Her head fell to the table, and her eyes slipped closed. “I’ll go rent us a room, so you just… you just wait here, okay?”

As Lucy didn’t answer, Natsu headed to the counter. He flinched as he saw the innkeeper. She was the same lady who had ran the inn when he had last been there. The very same one who gave him a good beating for stealing the Argonian Ale.

The lady glared at him, her expression twisting from confusion into anger. “Wait… I know you.”

“You’re making a mistake…” Natsu muttered.

“The only mistake was showing your face around here again!”

Nervously, Natsu scratched the back of his head. He was sure his scalp was bleeding at this point. He averted the innkeeper’s blaming stare, wondering what he should do. All of his small talents of persuading had been exhausted today.

“I don’t have time for this,” he hissed. “Do you?”

A small silence passed. The innkeeper kept staring at him, but the fire in his eyes seemed to change her mind. Because at that moment, Natsu was sure he’d murder anyone would piss him off. The old lady must’ve felt that.

“Well, maybe you aren’t worth the hassle…” she admitted with shrug. “Just keep your filthy hands off my mead stash this time.”

“That’s right. I’d rent a room for a night.” Natsu tossed the innkeeper a small purse of coins. ”Is that enough to shut you up?”

“Yes. Sure thing. You can have the one in upstairs.”

Natsu nodded and received the iron key the lady gave him. He walked back to Lucy to find her sound asleep. Her messy, braided hair covered her face as her head rested on the wooden table. She’d fall from the chair at any moment.

“Lucy?” Natsu asked and shook her shoulder. “You, uhm, shouldn’t really sleep like that, so…”

She did not wake up, but Natsu couldn’t leave her like that here. He glanced over his shoulder where the drunken soldiers sat at. It wasn’t safe for a maid to pass out around too many hungry eyes. In fact, as the world was now with thieves and bandits running around, it wasn’t safe for anyone.

Understanding that her safety was more important than his pride, Natsu picked her up into his arms. The steel plates and the decorative, green stones on her huntress’s armour made her heavier than usual. He wrapped the fur cloak around her, for the amount of bare skin made it awkward for him to carry her upstairs.

When he reached the door to the room, he grunted as he tried to open the lock with one hand while holding her on one arm. No light of the fireplace reached the loft and he had to fumble in perfect darkness to get the door opened. When it finally did, he kicked it open with a mumbled curse.

‘Gods, what’s my life come to?’  he wondered as he stepped into the chamber. Moonlight shone through the dusty window and helped him navigate in the dark. And as if he hadn’t had enough misfortunes for today, there were no beds for the both of them, but only one. Did the innkeeper try to give him some hints? Why did every goddamn person have to take him as a kind of a man he was not?

‘Fucking great,’ he kept cursing at himself. He placed Lucy to sit on the edge of the bed, opened the harness of the cloak, and then lowered her down. ‘Really fucking great… she’s gonna kill me tomorrow… well, she’s gonna kill me anyway, so whatever…’

Natsu put the edge of the dark green, feather-filled blanket around her, and then began to roll her into it. She looked like a cocoon when she reached the wall on the other end of the bed. In case she’d throw up again, Natsu left her to sleep on her side. Hopefully, she wouldn’t move much from that. Still, it was better for her to be here than on her own in Jorrvaskr.

Burying his face into his palms, he wanted to cry. Cold wind seeped through the cracks in the wall and made him shiver. He dropped his backpack on the floor and considered laying down to accompany it, but as the frigid draft of air caught his ankles, he knew he’d freeze. He glanced at the bed again and convinced himself their tent was smaller than that, so maybe she wouldn’t slaughter him for sleeping next to her.

Well, if she’d know what he had done, she’d probably slaughter him either way.

Sighing in utter frustration, he lay down on the other edge of the bed and covered himself with the fur cloak. It had caught Lucy’s scent. Fearing what would happen tomorrow, he stared into the ceiling with only one thought in his mind.

‘I betrayed her,’  he repeated a thousand times with tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I fucking betrayed her.’

Chapter Text

Before Lucy awakened to the dark, there was the cold.

With thin, frozen fingers it traversed on her skin. It began to spread from her toes and left chills in its wake, climbing up her legs, reaching to the bone. The shivering pulled her back to the world, as if asking to be banished before she could continue drifting through the black, dreamless sleep.

The sound of her teeth clattering against each other finally woke her up. She lay curled on her side, wrapped into something which prevented her movements. For a brief moment, she feared she’d been desiccated into a spider’s web, but the thought vanished as her trembling hand grabbed the edge of a blanket. The last thing she could recall was the firepit in the middle of a great, wooden hall. Where was the fire now?

Deathly weary as if she hadn’t slept at all for days, she opened her eyes, only to have them slip closed in an instant. It was enough for her to see the darkness. Fear clasped her throat. Again, she forced her heavy lids open, and the darkness was still there. Had she come blind? What if her vision had been stolen from her?

There would only be this endless night, for years and years and years until she’d forget what it was like to see. She’d forget the flowers of summer, the sunsets over the vale, the snow-capped mountains and mighty trees reaching to the sky. She’d forget the fear in the dragon’s eyes, and the shadow of its wings as it soared above her. But of all things, she feared forgetting Natsu’s smile the most. It was a thing she always wanted to remember, a sparkle of light in her night.

It was then when she turned her head and glimpsed moonlight shining through the window. Relief washed over her body. She hadn’t been blinded. Still, she couldn’t understand where she was. There had been no windows in the downstairs of Jorrvaskr where she was supposed to stay. She knew she had been there, but after playing some games and singing some songs, her memories were shrouded in black mist.

Lucy rolled to her back. The blanket around her loosened, and after another round, she was released from the strange cocoon. Her limbs moved freely now, yet the chilliness made them stiff and slow. In search of some warmth, she reached out her arms. Her fingers clutched into soft, warm fur and pulled herself closer, settled snug underneath it. It smelled of smoke, liked Natsu’s cloak often did. Why had he left here? Where was he even?

Not having the strength to wonder, Lucy laid her head against it. The coldness melted away like ice on a first spring day, and soon the warmth lulled her back to sleep. This time, flames fluttered within her dream, but they did not frighten her. They were the flames of the hearth of her home, familiar and comfortable.

Hours passed by. The sound of a crackling fire in her dreams was smothered by the rain pattering on the roof above her. It had started slow and silent, but strengthened as more drops came to fall until it was pouring. After a while, Lucy understood it really rained, and she had awoken again.

Lucy pressed her face into the fur, but the sleep did not come back. This time, pain had come. Her head throbbed like being hammered from the inside, to the verge of shattering into a thousand pieces if she’d move an inch. She wrapped her arms around the warmth beside her, not knowing what it was, and not caring either.

She knew she’d been in a feast, and recalled having a few stronger drinks, too. However, the way she felt implied she’d had more than a few. She groaned and cursed at nausea churning in the pit of her stomach. She remembered heading to the privy with the brown-haired Companion woman. Had they left someplace else, then? To the inn, perhaps? At least she hoped so. Of all the places she could’ve ended up, the inn was the most merciful option.

The dawn had broken a while ago. The light burned her eyes as she opened them, even though the skies were covered in clouds. Gently, she tilted her head to the side. Her vision was still blurred, but she recognized the outlines that faintly resembled a person.

Had she slept with someone? Air stuck in her throat as she realized the thing her arms were wrapped around was, indeed, someone’s arm. She moved her hands down it and found warm fingers, confirming her doubt.

‘Gods have mercy,’ she thought. A thousand scenarios ran through her mind. What had she done? Who was this? The Companion woman whose name she couldn’t recall, or someone else completely?

She rolled on her stomach and lifted herself to her elbows. She rubbed her eyes to the back of her hands, and took a better look. Wild, pink hair spread on the face he turned away, still easy for her to recognize. Too weary to support her position, she rested her head back to the sleeping mage’s shoulder.

‘Thank the gods, it’s just Natsu,’ she thought in relief and smiled. Then the smile withered. ‘No, what, wait a moment…’

“Natsu!?” Lucy cried out and sprung up as fast as a bolt of lightning. The sudden movement hurt her head like a slash of the greatsword, short and sharp. She crawled backwards on the bed to gain enough distance. It was certainly him. ‘What… What have I done?’

The mage rubbed his eyes with his elbow, still asleep. “Hmm?”

“W-what are you doing? Why’re you here!?” she asked, almost screaming. It was exhausting to speak, her voice was dry and rough. She lifted her hands to her mouth, realizing she might’ve woken up the whole inn. Natsu turned his head towards her with an annoyed look on his face.

“… damn, you’re loud…” he mumbled, and closed his eyes again.

Lucy grew morbidly silent. How could he be so unbothered? He continued sleeping as if she wasn’t there at all. Lucy squeezed her fingers into fists and held back the urge to punch him. Instead, she picked up a pillow and tossed it to his face with force, startling him.

“Explain yourself, fire mage!” Lucy demanded and smashed him again with the pillow. He rolled to his side and shielded his head with his arms. “Why did you sleep next to me? Didn’t you learn anything when you sneaked into my quarters back in the College? Gods, this is even worse!”

“What?” Natsu asked with narrowed eyes. He caught the pillow Lucy kept smashing him with and pressed it against his chest. “I rolled you into a blanket and left you alone by the wall. You explain yourself, not me!”

Lucy frowned. Faintly, she recalled waking up at night somewhat wrapped, but she hadn’t thought it was like that. Still, it couldn’t be that she had willingly crawled into his arms at night. She hadn’t even known he was there. Her face grew pale as she wondered how they’d ended up in the same bed.

“Wait…” she mumbled and stared at him in terror. “Don’t tell me that we…”

Confused, Natsu stared back at her. It took him painfully long to realise what Lucy meant. When he did, he just cringed.

“What? No. Of course not,” he answered with an honest tone. Lucy sighed in relief and finally looked away. “Listen, things started getting weird in Jorrvaskr, so I… I decided we’d be better off here, in the inn. You passed out and –“

“I don’t want to know what I did!” Lucy shrieked. She wrapped the green blanket around her shoulders and climbed out of the bed over the footboard. The floor felt shaky below her feet. Nervously, she glanced at him as she walked to the window. “Or just, well, I hope I didn’t do anything, you know, like that… Because I… I would never…”

Natsu remained silent for a moment, once again trying to figure out what she was talking about. Lucy didn’t even dare to utter it out aloud, and shivered while waiting for his answer. She knew she tended to get affectionate when she drank. It was probably easier to seduce an undead Draugr than Natsu of Dragonbridge, but what if she had tried? She didn’t even know if it was possible, but what if she had tried and succeed?

The mere thought was enough to make her feel stained, tainted… promiscuous. Though her parents weren’t here anymore, she could hear them yelling at her for insolently doing all the things they told her not to do. But sleeping with a mage? They’d chop off her head if they knew, then probably chop off his, too. Even if she had never meant to do so.

“Trust me, nothing like that happened… between us, if that’s what you fear. I… I don’t really have any interest in that kind of a thing…” Natsu stuttered and seemed more difficult the more he spoke. He noticed Lucy’s pending stare on him, and suddenly appeared almost frightened. “No offence, of course, but I just –“

An enormous stone rolled off Lucy’s heart. He didn’t lie, she was sure of it. Nothing had happened. Things could move on as usual, and she could be at peace. She might’ve sapped into his warmth, but that much could be forgotten if she never did so again. As she had once learned, things would never be the same after crossing a certain line. This time, she hadn’t crossed it, and hopefully never would.

“Good,” Lucy interrupted him before he’d completely lose it. “It’s… It’s okay. And… thank you. For being like that.”

The mage frowned quizzically as he looked at her from under his brows. “You’re probably the first person ever to thank me for being like this, but whatever...”

She chuckled. She had thought about it often, but never quite found the right place to say it. Ever since the beginning, he had shown he had no ill intentions or second thoughts behind his actions of kindness. Somehow, it reminded her of the way she and Loke had been when they had been kids. Just friends with no pressure towards anything else. It had changed as they had grown up, and bitterly, the purity of a childhood’s friendship could never be restored.

With Natsu, she could trust herself to be safe. She had been so completely drunken that she had blacked out, and what had he done? Taken care of her, not an advantage – brought her to the safety of the inn, put her to sleep, and nothing else. It was just the way he was, pure, innocent. Lucy didn’t know why, and it wasn’t her business to know.

The same thing couldn’t have been said of Loke when they had stolen the juniper mead and drunk it on the roof of the lumbermill.

That late summer night, sooner than Lucy had felt the drink rising to her head, Loke had started to talk about how he’d steal her to Riften with him and make her his wife. Perhaps to him, marriage had seemed like a natural development of their long friendship. Unfortunately, Lucy never thought so. Loke had never listened when Lucy told him she’d be married to a merchant’s son anyway, whether she’d want it or not.

After Loke’s drunken confession and her straightforward denial, things never returned the same between them. Whenever they talked, neither of them found any words. Nothing was fun anymore, just cold, and awkward. If she had known he’d be dead in a few months, she would’ve tried to reconcile, pretend she accepted his proposal or something. Anything which could’ve kept them as close as they had been, even if she didn’t feel the same.

Maybe Loke had thought he’d save her by marrying her himself. Though he was a man she knew, a pleasant and funny lad, her fate would’ve been still been the same: to keep his house clean, cook him hearty meals, and give him many sons. Her own will and freedom had no value at all. She would’ve never been happy. She would’ve just slowly faded living a life she was not meant to have.

‘They’re dead now,’ Lucy reminded herself as she grew repulsed by the thought. She had almost forgotten how much she had dreaded the future her father had arranged. After a few more years, she would’ve been ready to be wed. The fear had kept her up many nights. She’d stayed up pondering over the foul details of which she’d never been even told about, and probably wouldn’t until her wedding night. ‘It’s not going to happen. I have nothing left but my own will and freedom now…’

As she had grown up under so much distress and pressure, she now hoped she would’ve known what was awaiting her all that time. Freedom, the only thing she ever asked for, had been right around the corner – she just had to learn to know what it felt like to be caged first to appreciate it. But what she appreciated the most was that while Natsu had given her freedom by saving her life, he didn’t expect anything in return.

She didn’t have to give it back to him.

The raindrops kept flowing down the windowpane, and Lucy realized she had zoned out a good time. Slowly, the sound of rain came back from the void it had dissolved into, and the thoughts of her former life vanished again.

She turned her gaze from the window to the mage. He stared into emptiness, clouds of strange sadness surrounding him. ‘Has he cried?’ Lucy thought as she noticed the redness around his eyes. He never cried in front of her, but she could still see it afterwards.

“Did something bad happen last night?” Lucy asked and regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. She was concerned, but didn’t want to press him too much. It could’ve been about Igneel, or anything about the thousands of things he concealed and kept for himself. “Sorry. I can’t remember much. Did we play a game? How did it end?”

Natsu chuckled and glanced at her. “Do you really want to know?”

The smug grin on his face made her anxious again. He had just said that nothing happened between them, but maybe it wasn’t the whole truth. What was it that Lucy was better off not knowing? She leaned to the wall and rested her head against the cool window glass. Despite the rain, she could see the marketplace where people put their goods for sale in the booths.

“Now that you say it, I’m not sure…”

“Well,” Natsu started and scratched his neck. “After I bet myself out of the game, you and Cana had some… uhm, girl’s fun, if that’s the right way to put it. I’m not judging or anything. It was just… weird.”

Lucy’s eyes shot from the rain to the mage. Shocked, she blinked and stuttered, failing to form any words.

“Seriously? The brown-haired woman?” she asked and started to remember the hot kisses on her neck. Lucy buried her blushed face deep into her palms and sat down to the cold floor. “Oh, for the love of lady mother Mara, no… How did that even happen?”

“Beats me. Didn’t know you liked girls.”

“Me neither!” Lucy grumbled. What would’ve her parents said about that? “But rather her than the wolf twins…” Her face grew pale as she saw Natsu’s amused expression. “I made out with them too, didn’t I?

He laughed a bit and wiped his eyes, shaking his head. “No, thank the gods. But one of them thinks I’m a Companion now. The stupid one.”

Lucy muffled a laughter-mixed scream into her hands. Now she remembered that, too. If not taken too seriously, the evening had been fun. She had no reason to be so mortified. Although she hadn’t thought of herself to be into girls, she hadn’t hated that either. Maybe it was the result of always being told not to mess with boys.

“Let’s not show our faces there ever again,” she mumbled and brought her legs closer to her body, leaning to her knees.

“Agree,” Natsu answered. “Maybe better not show our faces in this damned city ever again. Because well, you puked on the sacred tree.”

“What!?”

“Yeah. Then you freaked out because you thought you were blinded.”

“Don’t tell me more,” Lucy pleaded and cringed. As much as she didn’t want to, she could imagine that happen. What a fool she’d been. "How could you even stand me? Must’ve been annoying.”

Natsu shrugged. “Igneel was much worse. You know, he started seeing dwarves when he got wasted. I’ve probably told you already…”

His voice died down. A sharp ache filled Lucy’s heart. While she had loved to hear about his adventures with Igneel, it hurt when he directly compared her to him. Once again, it reminded her of being just a poor replacement for the best friend he had lost. Not as strong, not as funny, not even as much a drunken fool as he had been. Lucy averted her gaze, looked out of the window again. Dark grey clouds loomed in the skies. It would rain all day today, as it often did in Frost Fall, before the waters turned to snow.

Deep down Lucy knew Natsu was there only because Igneel had died. Helping her gave him a reason for Igneel’s death, which otherwise would’ve been vain and meaningless. He coped with his grief by believing that helping the Dragonborn was his fate, his duty, his responsibility. He had said it himself back in the Palace of Kings. Lucy remembered it from word to word.

“You know what? I was supposed to be the first of us to go to the block. I was supposed to die first. All was going good until Igneel said something stupid and got dragged to the block in front of my fucking eyes. Then he was dead, and I was alive. I don’t want his death to be in vain. He died for a reason. And what would be a better reason than letting me help the Last Dragonborn to fulfil her destiny?

Yes, he had a point. It terrified her to think what would’ve happened to her if they had executed him first. She would’ve had to watch him die. Perhaps she wouldn’t have taken it so bad then, when he’d been just a nameless stranger to her. But now she knew wouldn’t bear it, especially through a way so gruesome as beheading. It would break her. The thought alone was enough to make her cry.

But even if he had died first as he had been supposed to, could she have survived? Would someone else have saved her in his stead, or would she have made it herself? Where would’ve her path led her if she hadn’t followed him?

It was pointless to ponder over what-ifs. They both had survived, perhaps the way they were meant to. What she truly feared was what would happen to them once she would’ve fulfilled her destiny, whatever it was. Would he still stay? Or would he realise he had wasted his time, sought for a fate which was never really his?

It had to be the reason he was like that, unbothered by the things she did. He didn’t truly care about her. He helped her because he had to, took care of her because he had to, and she hated it. But as a lump began to form in her throat, she realized it was more sadness than anger.

“Actually, Lucy,” Natsu started suddenly. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

The mage was still lying in bed, staring into the ceiling as Lucy glanced at him. There was a serious note in his voice, a cold thread woven among the words he left unsaid. The last time he had sounded like that had been when they’d climbed to the word wall, when he was about to tell her he’d be off to the war. Whatever it was now, Lucy didn’t have the strength to receive a similar blow.

“Please,” Lucy answered, more offended than she meant to be. “If it’s about yesterday, I don’t want to know.”

“But it’s –“

She shook her head and spoke over him. “Shit, I’m so ashamed of myself… I feel like I want to jump into a well and stay there for the rest of my life.”

Somehow she knew it had nothing to do with last night, she just pretended to think so. If it had, he would’ve told it already, but this was different. As Natsu silenced suddenly, Lucy wondered what it could be, and decided she was better off not knowing. If she wouldn’t let him say it, it wouldn't become real. 

“Feel ya, but –“

“Don’t tell me. Seriously. I don’t want to know what happened. Let’s pretend I did nothing of… of the things I did. You don’t remember anything either. Got it?”

Natsu turned to look at her with sadness in his eyes that put her on the edge. “It’s… It’s really important.”

“I won’t hear it now!” she snapped past the ache in her throat and the shivering of her chin. Natsu only answered with an upset glance, then turned away again, silencing for good. She put her hands on her brow to cover the tears before they’d fall.

What if he had changed his mind? Natsu had taken her to the monastery and back, which was more than he was obliged to. He had now finished his task, and that’s what Lucy feared he’d tell her, that he’d be gone now, gone forever.

Lucy took a moment to collect herself and soothe her distraught heart. ‘I’m overthinking again…” she reminded herself, knowing she had a tendency to do so. ‘Even though he said that, he also said he won’t go anywhere if I don’t want him to… But again, it was about what I’d want, not if he’d really want to stay…’

When she took her hands off her face, she saw the black stains of warpaint in her palms. “I… I should get washed up. Hope there’s a water basin downstairs… Wait, were we supposed to be in a council meeting today?”

“Yeah,” Natsu answered. He still hid underneath his cloak, seeming like he’d fall asleep again at any moment. Had he stayed up all night again? “In about a few hours.”

Letting out a long sigh, Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and muttered curses. If she could, she’d stay in the bed until the sun would set and the rain would stop. By then she’d hopefully feel better. She bit her lower lip and searched for her bag, but Natsu’s was the only one in the room.

“Where are my things?” she asked. Her tone had a bite she did not like. Her mood kept changing like the weather. Alcohol brought up many sides of herself she didn’t like at all.

“In Jorrvaskr,” the mage told. “Erza’s supposed to bring them back, but if she forgets, we can go get them later.”

“I’m gonna borrow your gold, then, ‘cause I’m starving,” Lucy answered and took his knapsack from the floor. His small coin purse was gone, but Lucy found a few septims on the bottom of the bag. Among them was a book. “Wait, what’s this?” she asked as she picked it up.

Natsu lifted his head slightly. “Oh, that,” he said, surprised, and laid down again. “I found that in the monastery. It seemed interesting, so I took it.”

Lucy wiped the book’s black cover. An insignia of a silvery dragon, the Imperial Legion’s sigil was imprinted on it. While just a moment ago her mind has been as dark as the rainy skies, now she was uplifted, excited, and slightly amused. “You stole this?”

“Wouldn’t say so. It was in the tunnels underneath the monastery.”

“In where?”

“Let’s just say that I ventured there on my own while you were training. I got bored, you know,” he answered. Lucy hadn’t known anything of that. “I haven’t read that one, but it said something about the dragons. I thought you’d like it.”

Lucy smirked at him. “And you didn’t tell me about this.”

“… I meant to, but I forgot.”

Lucy lowered the book and gave him a disappointed glance. Then she opened the first page and read. “The Book of the Dragonborn, by Prior Emelene Madrene. Year 360 of the Third Era, Twenty-First of the Reign of His Majesty Pelagius IV.” She gasped. “It’s almost three hundred years old, and originally from Cyrodiil! I wonder how long this has been there abandoned… Looks like a history of the Dragon Blood emperors or something.”

Lucy browsed through the brittle, yellowed pages. Moths had eaten holes into the paper. It had caught moisture, as understandable for a book stored in abandoned tunnels for who knows how many decades. If Natsu said anything, Lucy didn’t hear. She was absorbed in the book, for once she felt like she held answers in her hands.

And somehow familiar ones.

Lucy hadn’t made it to the end of the book when she realized they should hurry up if they intended to make it to the council meeting. Perhaps the scholar from Cyrodiil could take a better look at it. Furtively, she’d slipped the book back into the backpack as she kicked Natsu out of bed, and headed for breakfast.

It was strange how much a single thing could change.

When it came nearing noon, Lucy had eaten the little her stomach tolerated, cleaned up her face and hair, and dressed into Natsu’s cloak to hide her unchaste huntress’s armour. While Natsu had found some fresh clothes in the closet of their room, left behind by a former patron, there had been nothing for her. The armour had to suffice until she’d buy new robes, except that at the moment, she could probably only afford a dress from the marketplace. She was alarmingly running out of gold.

She stood waiting at the inn’s doors, sipping the herbal tea left from her breakfast. It helped with nausea but didn’t heal the terrible headache, which still persisted. Natsu had gone downstairs to wash the ‘monk’s stench off him’, as he had called it. He had been there for a while now, and Lucy was starting to worry he’d drowned in a water barrel. Though, checking on him would’ve been great revenge for all the times he’d barged in when she’d been naked…

“What’s with that outfit?” Lucy asked when Natsu finally arrived in the main hall. He looked nothing like a mage in that green, belted tunic and ragged brown trousers. They were a size too large for his thin frame. “You actually look like a normal person. Almost…”

He answered her with a grin. Not only that he had washed his hair, but he had also combed it to the back. Lucy couldn’t resist the urge to return it to the way it used to be. As he stepped beside her, Lucy left the tea on the closest table, rose on her toes and messed his hair with her fingers. Now it pointed to every direction, the longest strands falling over his eyes.

“That’s better,” she said and smiled, proud of her handicraft. Her hand smelled of soap as she brought it back.

“And what was that for?” Natsu asked, confused. He placed a short, hooded cape on his shoulders and wrapped the white scarf around his neck. “I thought we were going to meet the Jarl.”

“Like you cared the last time we met a jarl. That’ll do,” Lucy said and opened the door for him. “I’ve always wanted to see what Dragonsreach looks like from the inside. Did you know that it was built to trap a dragon?”

And so as they walked through the rainy streets of Whiterun, Lucy told him the story of great king Olaf and the dragon Numinex he had captured. It was an ancient legend she’d kept hearing since she was a child. As she expected, Natsu did not believe it. Dragons could not be trapped and kept as a pet.

There was a commotion around the sacred tree in the upper district of the city when they passed through. A guard accused a ragged beggar of dishonouring Gildergreen. ‘I ain’t done nothing,’ was the man’s defence. As Lucy saw the crimson wine stains on the pale trunk, she pulled the cloak’s hood over her head and hoped they didn’t see her.

Near the statue of Talos, Erza Scarlet stood waiting for them. Lucy flashed a wide smile. She hurried to the Companion, leaving behind the mage who wasn’t, unsurprisingly, so happy to see her.

“I thought you’d never come,” Erza said and gave Lucy’s knapsack back to her. “Here are your things.”

“Thank you,” Lucy answered and curtsied. “Sorry that we’re running late. We better get going right away.”

When Natsu came to them, Lucy noticed strange ire between him and the Companion. They had never liked each other, but this was just… different kind of loathing. Natsu’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were hard and ruthless as he stared at Erza without saying a single word.

Erza nodded and turned towards the long stairway carved in stone. Through the decorative pools, it led to the great palace sitting atop of the hill. Once before, Lucy had thought the stairs looked endless, but after climbing the Seven Thousand Steps, she didn’t think so anymore.

“Lucy,” Erza called to catch her attention, and halted at a platform. There wasn’t anyone around to hear them, but she still spoke in a quiet voice. Perhaps there were little birds where the eye couldn’t see. “I heard from Natsu that you’re heading to Ustengrav soon.”

“Yes,” Lucy answered. She couldn’t remember those two had spoken last night, but it seemed they had. There was no problem with that. Erza could be trusted with any information about their journey. “That’s going to be my last trial.”

“I’m assuming you’re going through the ruins of Labyrinthian?”

Lucy nodded. “We haven’t made the travel plan yet, but seems like that’s the fastest way.”

“It’s not the safest,” Erza told, making Lucy wonder what she was going to say. “Actually… I’ll be heading there soon myself. There could be important knowledge regarding the research I’m into. If you want, we could travel there together. I could accompany you to Ustengrav and back, and have your back along the way. The times are getting darker each day.”

Lucy’s eyes began to sparkle. Her cheeks hurt as she smiled so wide. She hadn’t expected her to ask that, but had secretly hoped so. The things Erza had taught her about archery had been crucial for her, and she could still use more training. Besides, Erza was an excellent fighter. Against everything but the dragons…

“Really? That… That would be great,” she said and turned to the fire mage, whose sour expression let her know exactly what he thought about it. “That’s okay with you, Natsu? It’s going to be a dangerous journey. We could need her blade on our side.”

“We won’t,” Natsu answered, his tone cold, not even looking at Erza as if she wasn’t there at all. “She’s useless.”

“Excuse me, Natsu?” she criticized. Lucy lifted her brows, blinking as she stared at him. “Erza’s right here, listening –“

The mage turned to face the warrior. “You’re useless, Erza,” he spat out. “You’re a coward. A coward, and a liar. We don’t need you along.”

What in the name of Talos was going on? Lucy didn’t understand. Of course he had bickered with her yesterday too, but it had been in a friendly, sarcastic manner. Now he was straightforwardly, coarsely hostile, and didn’t seem to regret it.

“Gods, what’s wrong with you today?” Lucy condemned with a disappointed sigh. The mage didn’t seem to budge.

“Do you… do you even understand what we’re up against?” he asked from Erza. The warrior’s stance was calm, unaffected, as if she understood the reason behind his wrangling. “Remember Kynesgrove, huh? You couldn’t even fight. You were fucking pathetic.”

Unable to say anything, Lucy stared at Natsu. That wasn’t even mean. It was cruel.

“I was coming into that,” Erza started peacefully. “Mystogan, the scholar from Cyrodiil, has now taken the lead of the research. As the wheels of war have turned, the Jarl has turned a blind eye to the dragon menace. A real menace it has become, indeed.” She lowered her gaze to her feet, moving them gently. “A fortnight ago, my home village, Rorikstead…”

Lucy’s eyes widened, and her hands began to shake. “What happened, Erza?”

“There was a dragon burial mound nearby. I used to play there as a child,” Erza answered quietly. Lucy swallowed as anguish spread within her chest. “It was Kynesgrove all over again. The black dragon appeared from nowhere, raised another one from the dead, and escaped. And the one who was raised… it burned Rorikstead to the ground.”

As if a thousand swords had pierced Lucy’s heart, tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, literal pain spreading through her body. She lifted her hands to her mouth as her mind screamed at her, blaming her guilty. She’d been sitting still atop of the tallest mountain of Skyrim, safe from the dragons, believing she was doing the right thing. In fact, she had been just hiding. Hiding, while she was supposed to be out there fighting.  

“It was… it was a massacre,” Erza whispered. “No one made it out, except for… except for one elderly man.”

Lucy glanced at Natsu. There was no surprise in his eyes, and suddenly Lucy understood he knew about this. It had been the thing he had wanted to tell. Lucy cursed at herself for thinking it could’ve been something else, refusing to listen.

“By Ysmir…” she muttered and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I… I’m so sorry. What… What about the survivor? Did you know him?”

“Yes,” Erza told shortly. “He was my childhood friend’s father. The man who raised me. And he… he could not take it. He had seen death in his life for sure, but enough is enough. Right after he told the Jarl what he’d seen, he jumped down from the balcony of Dragonsreach.”

Lucy looked up to the palace before them, seated high on the hill. Erza didn’t need to tell her the man had died. No one could make it alive after such a fall.

“That dragon needs to be hunted down. Other settlements are in danger, too. The last it was seen flying north of Rorikstead. It’s… it’s one of the reasons I’d like to join you this time,” Erza said and turned towards Natsu. “I have my own demons to slay, fears to overcome.”

Lucy nodded silently. “Of course you can come with us, especially in a situation like this,” she said. “Right, Natsu? We should give her a chance to avenge her people.”

Natsu said nothing, didn’t even nod, but Lucy took his silence as an acceptance.

“And about Mystogan, the scholar…” Erza started then. “I think he should know you’re the Dragonborn, Lucy. I haven’t told him, because it’s your decision to do. But if we combine his knowledge with your power, we could find a way to defeat the dragons.” Erza looked deep into Lucy’s eyes. “He… He can be trusted.”

The warrior’s plea was sincere. Lucy nodded slowly. She didn’t know anything about this scholar, but if Erza trusted him, she could trust him too. The Greybeards had only taught her so much, and she still needed to know more. If the scholar could help her, then she should tell him the truth.

“If you think it’s for the best,” Lucy answered. Her chin trembled as she saw the sorrow in Erza’s dark eyes. She knew exactly how it felt like to lose a home to a dragon’s flames. No amount of words could form adequate condolence.

The mage had averted his gaze to the water fountains below the stairway. He was quiet, like he wasn’t there at all at the moment, turned into a lingering, gloomy ghost.

“Let’s go now,” Erza told them after she collected herself. “We’re being waited.”

As a silent group, they climbed up the rest of the stairs to the Jarl’s palace. The guards welcomed them at the entrance, and Erza told them what their business was, and so the great doors were opened for them.

They arrived in the entry hall of the palace, and the sounds of an ongoing quarrel carried all the way to them. Lucy felt her movements slowing down from anxiety, her old dream of seeing Dragonsreach from the inside suddenly forgotten.

Erza led them forward, until they were met by a defensive, armoured elf, who had her sword drawn out. All three of them halted.

“What’s the meaning of the interruption?” the elf asked harshly. “The Jarl’s not receiving visitors.”

Then a blue-haired man emerged from the side, his arms spread wide as he stepped in between them. He was Mystogan, Lucy knew.

“Irileth, these are but important visitors. Survivors of Helgen. I’d like to speak with them privately before announcing my next move to the Jarl,” the man explained. He turned his eyes to them and brought his arms together, the long sleeves hiding his hands. “I apologise for the inhospitably. The mood in Dragonsreach has been rather… tight this morning. Please, come with me.”

The Dunmer steward stepped to the side as they began to follow Mystogan across the hall. As Lucy began to relax, she struggled to walk at the same pace as the others. She wanted to stay behind and admire the majestic, wooden palace in more detail. It was larger than she had thought. She lifted her head and gazed into the ceiling, which was almost as high as the sky. But as she tumbled into the pillar wound up in her way, she realised she should keep her eyes in front of her.

Lucy glimpsed Jarl Balgruuf the Greater sitting high on his throne with a sullen expression on his face. His steward hurried back to him while the rest of his men kept debating. The whole great hall echoed with heated arguments. Lucy listened, but couldn’t separate who was talking at a time.

“Proventus, what do you make of all this? If Ulfric were to attack Whiterun...”

“As in all things, Lord, caution... I urge us to wait and see.”

“Prey waits.”

“I'm of a mind with Irileth. It's time to act.”

“You plan to march on Windhelm?”

“I'm not a fool, Proventus. I mean it's time to challenge Ulfric to face me as a man, or march his Stormcloaks up to the gates.”

“He'll do no such thing! A dagger in the back is all you could expect!”

“What has happened here?” Lucy asked when they were out of the reach of their ears. She had heard bits of it yesterday, but she hadn’t been paying attention. Seemed like she should have.

“Jarl Ulfric delivered his axe to Jarl Balgruuf,” Erza answered. “There are but a few simple truths behind one warrior giving another his axe. If Balgruuf keeps it, Ulfric will bide his time. If Balgruuf returns it, it means war.”

“Whiterun has tried to remain neutral so far, but the time has come to make hard choices,” Mystogan explained. “And the dragons are making it even harder for the Jarl to decide what to do. He can’t waste men and resources battling the dragons while the Stormcloaks could storm through his gates at any moment.”

“But why would Ulfric… in a time like this…” Lucy gasped. “The Jarls should unite their strength and fight against the dragons, not among themselves!”

“Go tell that to them,” Erza sighed.

Lucy glanced over her shoulder. The Jarl had now stood up from his throne, and pointed his finger at one of his men, shouting insults. Balgruuf was known of his temper, but Lucy had never known it would be this… intense.

“This way,” Mystogan said and guided them into a room to the side of the throne hall. When all of them had stepped inside, he closed the doors and locked them. “So, as I was saying…”

Lucy barely heard the rest. The study was small, but made up its size with each wall covered in notes. A big table stood in the middle, cluttered with many books, rolls of parchment, writing supplies and soul gems. In the back end of the room were an alchemy lab and an arcane enchanter side by side. Lucy had never seen one. The candles and the skulls on it made it appear more obscene than she had expected.

A thousand questions filled her mind. She wanted to ask the scholar if he was from the Imperial City of Cyrodiil, what other things he had researched, and how his path had led here in Whiterun. It seemed that he held an amount of knowledge to form a small library.

For a moment Lucy wondered where Natsu had gone, but then she found him resting against the locked doors. His whole being resonated an unexplainable antipathy, but towards what, Lucy couldn’t tell. Mystogan moved behind his table and organized his papers, almost as if ashamed of the mess.

“… the Empire is putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun. The city’s provisions are diminished, and choosing Ulfric’s side would mean the end of support and protection from the Imperial Legion. The city would starve, and Ulfric wouldn’t help with that,” Mystogan told them. “If Balgruuf chooses the Legion, Ulfric will consider him as his enemy. And now, he’s driven to crush all his enemies.”

“In case the Jarl returns the axe back to Ulfric, Whiterun will be under the attack of the Stormcloak army,” Erza added. “There are only bad options, it seems.”

“I assume Erza told you what happened in Rorikstead?” Mystogan asked, glancing at Lucy. She answered with a faint nod.

Mystogan looked down. “The village belonged to Whiterun. The Jarl is concerned, but with the war situation, he has no choice left than to trust in the strength of his walls against a dragon. But he doesn’t understand that while the men fight against each other like idiot children, the dragons will win the war. There will be no cities left to defend,” Mystogan spoke and sighed. “Because the World-Eater Alduin has returned.”

Lucy halted completely. She had known it for a while, but never heard anyone confirm it. She had heard his name being called, still did every night when Sahlkonir took over her dreams. An echo of the world’s ultimate destruction.

“The black dragon who’s raising others?” Lucy asked, even though she knew the answer already.

“There’s no doubt of it. It’s the dragon from the dawn of time, who devours the souls of the dead,” the scholar explained with a low voice. “No one can escape its hunger, here or in the afterlife. Alduin will devour all the things and the world will end. Nothing can stop him. I’ve tried to tell them, but they won’t listen. Fools. Because they haven’t seen… yet, but they will.”

“But didn’t the ancient Nords defeat him? I’ve… I’ve read about that. Why has he returned?”

“The defeat was merely a delay. It has been foretold in an ancient prophecy. I’ve heard about that since I was just a boy, but never read it myself. It’s been written into a few books, but such copies are hard to find.”

For some reason, Lucy knew where to find that prophecy. She walked to Natsu, and without an explanation, she took the strange book from his knapsack. “What about this one?” she said as she gave it to the scholar.

“Let me see it,” Mystogan said and took the book from her hand. “Where have you found this? No, it doesn’t matter. It’s a very rare book. I’ve been searching for this for a long time…”

“What’s so special about it?”

“This book,” Mystogan began and showed her the cover. “This book holds the prophecy itself. Or, the copy of it, put in the human tongue. It has been said that it originates in the Elder Scrolls, although it’s sometimes also attributed to the ancient Akaviri.”

For a moment, silence fell to the room. Lucy stared at the man, unable to believe what he just told. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered seeing that book before. It had been in her home, brought in by a mysterious customer. She’d only stolen a glance at it when her mother found out and tossed it to the fire. Could it be that…

Mystogan turned the pages to the very last one. He cleared his throat and read aloud, pausing between the lines.

“When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”

Shivers ran down Lucy’s spine. She’d read those words before. As a child, she had understood none of that, and had soon forgotten almost everything. Even now, all of the metaphors didn’t open to her. They depicted the events of history, events Lucy hadn’t even heard about, except for the last lines. The last Dragonborn ruler had lost his throne two hundred years ago during the Oblivion Crisis, and the kingless, bleeding Snow Tower meant Skyrim’s current state.

And as the World-Eater awakened, the great wheel turned upon her.

Mystogan closed the book and gave it back to Lucy. “Alduin was always destined to return to Tamriel. Only the Dragonborn can stop him, but not one has been known in centuries. The Greybeards might’ve called for one, but their reasons have nothing to do with the return of the dragons. They remain detached to the events of the world, as they have always been,” Mystogan said and pointed at the notes on the wall. “It’s all pointless, hopeless. All we can do is watch our doom approach.”

The time had come to tell the truth.

“It’s not hopeless,” Lucy said. She looked deep into the scholar’s dark eyes. “I am the Dragonborn.”

Uttering those words brought her world to a stop. Silence fell once again, longer than before. The scholar’s eyes widened, and began to sparkle with a long-lost hope.

“You’re… can it really be true? Dragonborn?” Mystogan stuttered. “The dragon in Kynesgrove… So it was you who killed it?”

“It was me. I killed the dragon, and absorbed its power.”

Mystogan glanced at Erza and Natsu, as if looking for a confirmation.

“It’s true. We were there,” Erza told sternly in Natsu’s stead, who still didn’t say anything.

Though Lucy knew she could be in danger if her identity were to fall into wrong hands, she didn’t feel endangered now. She felt in her heart that the knowledge wouldn’t spread from this room – in fact, she was glad that someone else knew, too. Someone who could actually help her.

“We’ve just returned from High Hrothgar,” Lucy started, looking at the scholar. “The Greybeards taught me how to use the Thu’um, how to shout as the dragons do, but they think it’s only to be used in the worship of Kynareth. In the other words, they didn’t help me to find what it really means to be a Dragonborn… they just said I’m not ready to understand.”

“Only a Dragonborn can stop Alduin and avert the end of the world. But how, that the prophecy doesn’t tell. Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. If he could, he wouldn’t be here now,” Mystogan told. “But there has to be a way. Something the ancient Nords used against him… if that weapon could be given to you, the Dragonborn, maybe Alduin could be defeated for good.”

“A weapon?”

“No one knows how the ancient Nords defeated Alduin. It could be a sword, or a spell, or a scroll. The knowledge had been lost to the ages. We need to find out what it was. That’s our only hope.”

Lucy nodded to the scholar. For the first time since she was revealed to be the Dragonborn, she felt like the path was… clear. It wasn’t going to be a hopeless, despairing battle against the inevitable end. There was a way. A way to defeat Alduin, and fulfil her destiny.

Now she knew what it was.

“Well, how can we find out? Any clues, ideas?” she asked.

“I was planning to send Erza off to the ruins of Labyrinthian. It was once constructed by the Dragon Cult as a temple for the dragons. An ancient city was then built around it, and it served as a centre for the dragon priests to discuss important matters of the war. The answers we seek may be held there.”

“We are heading to Ustengrav to complete my training with the Greybeards, and  Labyrinthian is on the way. We could go there with Erza, if she could come with us to Ustengrav.”

Mystogan nodded in approval. “It suits more than well. Some things of importance could also be hidden there. But before you go, I’ll officially add you to the research team. You’ll operate under my protection, but only as survivors from Helgen determined to bring down the dragons. The Jarl doesn’t need to know you’re the Dragonborn. The fewer people know, the safer it is for you.”

“I understand,” Lucy answered. “So far, only the Greybeards and the four of us in this room know… except for Jarl Ulfric and his top trusted men.”

The scholar shook his head, sighing gloomily. “That’s not good. He could use that as an advantage of the war. Nothing would keep him from pretending he has the Dragonborn as a hostage,” he said and thought for a moment. “You should tell Jarl Balgruuf that the one who killed the Dragonborn in Kynesgrove was an Imperial man, an outlaw, who escaped the scene after the Stormcloak soldiers arrived. If Ulfric were to try something, the other Jarls would know he’s lying.”

Lucy admitted. “Makes sense.”

“I’m ready to tell Jarl Balgruuf the results of my research. With your testimony, it’s crystal clear that Alduin has returned. Even though the Jarl is too busy with the war, he should understand the grave threat,” Mystogan explained. “I’ll then announce you three as my research team on the mission to retrieve information about dragon-slaying weapons from Labyrinthian. I can’t give you much alone, but the Jarl should support you with equipment, weapons, and provisions, anything you’d need on the journey.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and bowed. “We’re in, well… dire need of supplies. We’re pretty much empty handed now.”

“And you can’t fight the dragons empty handed.”

There wasn’t a way to express the gratitude she felt. She fought back a smile, feeling like it wasn’t appropriate. She could use the conjured bow now, but neither of them had anything except their magic. If they ran out of magicka, they’d be dead.

Lucy turned towards Natsu. His arms were crossed on his chest, and there wasn’t a hint of thankfulness in his stare. “What do you say? What do we need?”

“New robes, at least,” he muttered, so quietly Lucy barely heard. “And a dagger… or two… gold won’t hurt either…”

Lucy chuckled. “Don’t get too greedy.”

“There’s no need to stand on ceremony, friends. Anything you need, the Jarl should deliver,” Mystogan told and collected a pile of papers into his hands before heading to the doors, opening the locks. “But come on, now. Let’s see what kind of a deal we can strike with the iron-head of a Jarl.”

It was still raining when they made it out of Dragonsreach, and Natsu’s mind was darker than the clouds looming on the horizon.

He stayed behind and let Lucy walk down the long stairway with the Companion. Taking support from the wooden pillar, he felt like fainting from suppressed rage. His teeth clenched and fists shivered – one more wrong word would throw him over the edge, and he didn’t know what he’d then do.

There was no way he could tell her the truth now.

‘Mystogan’ had given the Jarl and his men a speech which kind of had never been heard before in the hall. Mighty talk about the return of Alduin, a passionate preach of the impending doom, and how these three heroes could just change everything. Survivors of Helgen and Kynesgrove, on a great mission to find the ultimate weapons against the dragons which he had just found a hint of.

The Jarl had believed every word of it, given them his greatest thanks. As a token of his esteem, he promised to provide the research team with everything they needed for their task. New robes from Farengar’s storage, enough warm clothes and food, and weapons through Eorlund Gray-Mane of the Skyforge. Erza would be to arrange them, and tomorrow they would be ready to go. The Jarl hoped them a triumphant return, and his eternal gratitude.

A jarl could be fooled, but Lucy? She had believed everything, too. She was excited, happy, and nearly jumped into the scholar’s neck when she was given adept-level enchanted robes. They could’ve never afforded them by themselves, for the court wizard normally sold them for two thousand septims per piece. Natsu had received his glumly, tempted to throw them to the liar’s face, but was forced to swallow his pride and play along.

What a brilliant liar he was, indeed, Natsu had to give him that.

When they reached the backyard of Jorrvaskr, Lucy was caught by Cana, dragged to the table for a little conversation. Her eyes said, ‘Help me,’ but Erza told her she’d be fine with Cana while they’d go receive the weapons from Eorlund. The Skyforge was just up from the mead hall.

“Come with me,” Erza said to Natsu as she took her leave towards the stairs. Reluctantly, the mage nodded and followed her. “Please, listen to me. I know you don’t like this, but –“

“Have you… have you just any idea what he said to me yesterday?” Natsu hissed. It seemed no one was close enough to hear them, but he struggled to care even if someone was. “What he’d do to her if I’d ‘double-cross’ him?”

Erza looked at him in silence. “Yes. I know everything.”

Natsu bit into his tongue, tempted to call her the vilest insults he knew. His mother had taught him to respect women, but he was dangerously running out of any respect for Erza. She was no innocent maiden who’d break from foul language. Had never been.

“Then how can you look her in the fucking eyes and pretend that you’re her friend? And you still dare to come with us?” Natsu growled, keeping his stare locked with the warrior’s. “That’s just… disgraceful. Ridiculous. You’re the lowest piece of trash there is. Right after him!”

“You’re angry, I get it. But you should thank me for being alive. If I hadn’t talked him out of killing you, you wouldn’t be here at the moment,” Erza answered in a calm tone, which just enraged him more. He didn’t even know he could get more enraged than that. “This was the only way to let us all live, believe me.”

“No, it’s not. There’s always another way. You know what it is.”

Erza didn’t say anything.

“If you hadn’t talked him out of killing me?” Natsu repeated, questioning. “Why me, not Lucy?” He looked down from the stairs and distantly saw Lucy in the yard of Jorrvaskr. “What exactly did you tell him?”

“What I had to,” Erza stated coldly. “There was no other choice than to tell. He’s more dangerous than you know.”

Natsu’s head was on the verge of exploding. Erza did not admit it directly, but he doubted that she had already told Jellal about the Dragonborn. There was no better liar in the whole world than him, so of course he could’ve just pretended he didn’t know, just to make Natsu feel guilty about slipping the secret. He had only wanted to extort him. Put him into silence without killing him.

But what had he done to Erza to make her tell it?

“You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?” Natsu asked. The sharpest edge of his ire was starting to wear off. The woman silenced again. Damn. Erza could be just as much a victim as anyone.

“I’ve never wanted any harm to come to you,” she whispered then. “I’m sorry you got involved in this. I know what he’s like. I’ve always known. But deep down, he’s not –“

“Deep down he’s as rotted as a pig who’s been dead for a year,” Natsu blurted out. He did not need apologies. “You aren’t married yet? A bit of advice. Not that I’m exactly in the position to advise on this matter, but you listened to it before, so listen to it again. Don’t marry him. Ever. And as the second piece of advice, you sleep with him, right? The next time you’re in bed with him, strangle him to death. Seriously. Do that, or I will.”

Erza lifted an eyebrow. “You’d sleep with him or strangle him?”

Only then he realised how wrong his words could be understood. It would’ve made a funny joke if he’d been in a mood to.

“Both, if I have to,” he answered sarcastically. “He’d just probably expect that…”

“And like that.”

Natsu cringed, wanting to puke. “He has to die.”

“No. We need him. You’ll come to see that.”

Erza turned her back to him and continued climbing up the stairs. The conversation was all but done, but, as much as he hated it, it now seemed they’d have a lot more time to talk about in the next following days, or weeks at worst.

Natsu lifted his eyes to the monument above him. Skyforge, built before the ages of men or elves. A massive bird carved in stone, its wings spread wide over the forge, as if sheltering the flame. The forge stood atop of a hill, and Natsu could see over the walls of Whiterun from there.

A man with long, white hair sat there honing a sword. He had to be Eorlund Gray-Mane, the best blacksmith in Skyrim, who forged weapons for the Companions. His steel was legendary, they said. Erza went to tell the Jarl’s request to him, and Natsu stayed behind.

“Two daggers for you? Since when you have been a dual wielder?” Erza asked then. “Lucy wanted just one, right?”

‘One for your back, and one for Jellal’s,’ Natsu thought. “Yeah.”

The blacksmith nodded and headed to his storage shelf, returning with two sheathed blades. As a man of few words, he gave them to the mage, and left without saying anything. Natsu muttered a quiet thanks. Indeed, he had never wielded two blades at once, but somehow he had a feeling he’d come to need a dagger in both hands.

Carefully, Natsu slid the second blade out of the sheath. The steel gleamed in the faint light, reflecting his image like a mirror. He turned it around in his hands, and could swear he’d never seen a blade so deadly sharp. His finger brushed the honed edge, a touch so gentle it barely existed, and it still cut through his skin. Natsu smiled, sheathed the dagger, and wiped the blood into his sleeve.

As much as he hated to admit it, he benefited from working with Jellal and Erza. This was the proof. If he could just swallow his pride, set aside his anger, all of it could work. But he knew it would not. He couldn’t forget.

‘Who knows how long they’d enjoy turning her inside out?’

He had never enjoyed killing. Actually, he had hated it for the most, especially the blood. There was always too much of it. But now, his mind was changing. Natsu squeezed his shivering fingers around the sheathed daggers. ‘I’m going to kill him,’ he thought. ‘I’m going to kill him with these fucking daggers he gave me. That would serve him right. Who knows how long I’d enjoy turning him inside out?’

For the briefest moment, he wondered what would murdering an assassin make of him – a great hero, or just another assassin?

It frightened him how little he cared.

Chapter Text

There was a thin line between fear and hopelessness.

Lately, Erza had come to understand that her profound fear for the dragons had been the lack of hope all along. When there was hope, even against the most desperate odds, fear started to subside.

It had happened so slowly she barely noticed it. After the triumphant battle of Kynesgrove, her nightmares started to change. She no longer watched frozen as the dragons burned her home to the ground or minced the flesh and bones of her beloved. Now, she picked up her sword. She stood her ground. And she fought against.

Because now there was hope.

The same nightmares had haunted her since she had been just a girl. Planted into her head by the doomsday preaches of elders of the village, they had eventually grown into constant terror which refused to let her go. Through all of that, only one pledge had kept her sane. ‘I’ll give you a future where there are no dragons,’ Jellal had once promised. But he too had been too young, too naïve to understand what it truly meant. Only a Dragonborn could defeat the dragons, and he wasn’t one.

But now, as Erza stood in the company of the Dragonborn, she felt confident. Safe. She drew strength from the hope that Lucy could stop her nightmares from becoming reality. She no longer was powerless and weak, for she knew she could do something. She could play her part. She could fight. All she had to do was to believe in Lucy, this young girl by her side, trust in her strength and valour, and everything would be alright in the end.

Even if it wouldn’t, she’d die defending the future she wanted them all to see.

While the Companion sat on a rock by the stream, eating a slice of bread with good, aged cheese, two flame atronachs floated past her. They made her slightly nervous. Since leaving Whiterun four days ago, Natsu had been determined to cause her as many worries as he ever could. The fire mage had decided to teach Lucy to cast a flame atronach, and the results had been disastrous at times. Sometimes Lucy had conjured a pile of embers and set the tundra grass on fire, which they had only barely managed to put out before it would spread. When the conjuration faintly resembled an atronach, it had somehow offended Natsu’s one, engaging the creatures into an explosive fight.

Since this morning, Lucy’s flame atronach looked so much alike Natsu’s, that Erza deemed she had finally perfected the spell. It wasn’t just an abomination anymore, but a real creature from Oblivion. Erza still remembered when Lucy had cast her first spell. She had come amazingly far from that point – Natsu had, against all Erza’s expectations, been an excellent teacher for Lucy.

About the troubles Natsu had caused her, Erza had decided to watch them through her fingers. He was justified to be angry at her. If passive-aggressive bickering or firebolts flying right past her head helped him come to terms with Erza joining their mission, she had to accept that. Four days had already passed, and she hadn’t got a dagger through her throat, which was a good sign. Perhaps he could forgive her, in time.

The atronachs drifted back to their conjurers. This was supposed to be their last stop before heading to the ruins of Labyrinthian, meant for resting and regaining energy, but for those two it meant training. Natsu gathered water from the stream into his bottle, and Lucy welcomed the atronachs while eating an apple.

“I don’t understand why you call your atronach ‘flame boy’”, Lucy said to him. The atronach spun around in the air. A small trail of fire was left behind its movement. “These are obviously female.”

“Huh? They’re Daedra. They don’t really have genders. Have you ever seen a frost atronach? Those are just moving chunks of ice. Go tell which one that is.”

Lucy gazed at the creature in front of her. “It’s pretty. And shaped like a woman. Wide hips, thin waist, and breasts and all. See?”

“But it… It’s entirely made of fire, with some metal scraps as armour. Definitely not a woman.”

Erza chuckled at herself. The logic behind Natsu’s argument wasn’t flawless, but he had a point. The flame atronachs had a feminine, curved shape, but perhaps the shape wasn’t exactly how the fire mage told apart male from female. Erza resembled more of a tall cabinet than an hourglass, but it didn’t make her any less of a woman. And in all of honestly, Erza had mistaken Natsu for a girl the first time she saw him. It could’ve been his slender build or his pretty eyes, but gladly the confusion has cleared as soon as he’d talked.

“I think I’ll name this one Maiden,” Lucy said as she stood proudly beside her atronach.

Natsu rolled his eyes. “Whatever, but mine’s still a boy.”

They kept arguing whether the atronachs were female or male or something in between for a while. Erza couldn’t help but think back to the day she found them on the road right past Riverwood. A beautiful, strong friendship had grown between those two strangers, and witnessing it made Erza happy. Beyond that, she was glad Natsu had changed his mind about joining the Stormcloaks. As the war was now, it would’ve been a suicide.

Another thing she admired about them was their seamless teamwork. For the past two months, they had constantly trained with each other, and it showed in a real battle too. Their journey to Labyrinthian had been peaceful until last evening. In search of shelter for a night, they had ventured into old ruins, and quickly realized they had stepped into headquarters of a hostile bandit group. The bandits had no intentions to let them walk out of there alive, but they had no intentions to die either.

The fight had been intense. Erza, the only one of them wearing heavy armour, had distracted most of the outlaws into close combat. With no mercy, she forced the bandits to meet her greatsword. Meanwhile, Lucy shot arrows from the dark with her magical bow, and Natsu cannoned fireballs at them with his flame atronach. A bandit who managed to sneak too close to the fire mage wound up with two daggers to the neck, as if Natsu had always wielded two blades.

One by one, their enemies fell on them, and eventually, the battle was won.

Erza had been beyond amazed by Lucy’s progress. When she had first met her, she had barely been able to hold a bow properly, not to even speak about casting spells. Now, she had fought bravely. Even if killing so many bandits had shocked her, she had concealed it well. When the fighting was over, the three of them checked the ruins from any hiding brigands, but there hadn’t been any. If anyone had survived, they had fled the place, and never dared to come back. When Natsu had burned the bodies, they settled into the indoor chambers right below the exterior structures.

It had seemed that the bandits were attempting to learn the secrets of the Lunar Forge. Their leader’s notes inspected something about the forge which had been on top of the ruins, like trying to reach the moons. Many weapons had been laid out there, and Natsu said they radiated some magic he didn’t really understand. They gleamed in faint, green light.

Further studies of the notes taught them that the weapons forged there were indeed magical. When wielded under direct moonlight, they burned their victims like fire. Natsu had been excited about the concept, but Lucy had persuaded him not to take a lunar-forged greataxe with him. He had offered it to Erza instead, but she refused. She didn’t trust enchanted weapons, especially if it only worked when the moons were out.

They had spent the previous nights in caves and abandoned watchtowers. The tundra of Whiterun hold was harsh and shelterless, and the cold was becoming unbearable at this time of year. Camping in the wilds would mean certain death. The bandits had made the ruined chambers almost livable with wooden, probably stolen, furniture and many fireplaces. Erza had welcomed the warmth with open arms. Sleeping with Jellal for the last fortnight had made her too used to comfort. This voyage was a reminder of how life truly was. Too much of a good thing tended to make it stale, or at least she told herself so. She couldn’t afford to miss him too much now.

During the last passing weeks, Erza had met Jellal more often than they normally did in a year. It was as delightful as it was frightening. Jellal had played his role more than well – even Erza was sometimes deceived, believing he actually was a scholar from Cyrodiil. She hadn’t liked how he handled the situation with Natsu, but compared to how he handled his own father, escaped from the destruction at Rorikstead, it wasn’t nearly as… bad. It was utterly cruel, heartless, but it had to be done. Jellal himself said so.

As much as she loved him, even Erza sometimes thought he deserved a dagger in the back.

“Hey, Erza, are these atronachs male or female? What do you think?” the fire mage called suddenly. She turned her eyes from the clear skies to him, then glanced at the flaming creature.

“Female,” she answered, just to annoy him. “Obviously.”

Lucy flashed a wide grin. “See, I told you.”

Natsu scoffed and banished his atronach back to Oblivion. Lucy’s expired at the same time, and their training session was now done.

“Should we keep on going?” Lucy asked. She gazed into the mountains ahead of them, which just a few days ago had been so far away. “Natsu said we’ll reach Labyrinthian today.”

Erza rose from the rock she’d been sitting at. “Sure. Unless something unexpected hinders our journey, we should indeed be there today. But we should wary the frost trolls of that area. A lot of them live in the ruins.”

Color left Lucy’s face temporarily, but she quickly braced herself. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

When the Companions had bathed Lucy in Jorrvaskr, she had told them how she got the scar running down her chest. Because Aela and Cana had been there too, she didn’t tell where the guardian frost troll was, but Erza knew it had to be on the Seven Thousand Steps. She’d heard legends of it feasting on unlucky pilgrims. Lucy hadn’t had any good experiences with trolls to begin with, so that must’ve brought her dread to another level. Going through Labyrinthian would be tough for her, but at least she got Natsu and Erza by her side.

Hiding one’s fear wasn’t always a good thing. It didn’t make it disappear. Admitting it and facing it eye to eye did. Especially when you weren’t alone while facing it.

They walked by the side of the stream. The water’s surface was partly frozen, and a thin layer of frost covered the rocks and the dry grass underneath their boots. Winds howled across the vast tundra, a sign of winter drawing near. Over the distance, a group of giants tended a horde of mammoths towards their camp. Even though they were far away, the ground still seemed to quake from their steps.

As Erza was slowed down by her armour, she let the mages wander ahead of her. She couldn’t keep up their pace for long before exhausting herself. Sometimes she envied those wearing lighter equipment, but she’d never let go of the safety the steel plates provided her. Her armour had saved her life many times. It had deflected a strike of a brigand’s war hammer, a slash of a sabre cat’s ferocious claws, and bounced back a rain of arrows aimed at her back.

She couldn’t understand how these mages had survived with only enchanted fabric as their cover. It seemed that their defence came from the mind instead. Either it was insane bravery or a naïve belief of being indestructible, they had managed to stay alive so far, even without the steel’s protection. Erza respected that a lot.

“Erza, have you heard of how Natsu fell down some stairs in Labyrinthian?” Lucy asked. They had halted for a moment to let her catch up with them.

“Did you?” Erza asked from the fire mage, smirking.

Lucy moved Natsu’s hair aside, revealing the scar on his forehead. It vanished to his hairline. He seemed awkward to have her touch him, but it was nothing new. “Yeah,” Lucy stated and looked into the mage’s eyes, grinning. “You should warn us when we reach that stairway.”

Natsu sighed and shoved her hand away from his forehead. “Sure.”

“So that’s how you got that scar?” Erza asked. “I thought I caused it.”

“No, you did this one,” Natsu answered and pointed at a smaller cut above his right eyebrow. Yes, Erza remembered punching him there. “And my ribs still hurt if I laugh too hard, all thanks to you.”

“I think Wendy at the Temple of Kynareth could take care of that. The scars, too,” the warrior said. She was sure that the priestesses could heal older wounds just as well. “But the brain damage might be beyond even their reach…”

Natsu grinned. “Even if they could be healed, I don’t want to. They help me remember where I’ve been, and what I’ve done, who I’ve been with. I’ll always remember Igneel from the scars I got with him.” He laughed a bit, but the tone was sad. “The next time I hit my head I might lose my memory. I’ve already lost the dreams.”

“Lost dreams?” Erza wondered.

“Yeah. I don’t really see any dreams when I sleep,” Natsu answered. “But since Igneel died, I’ve dreamt of him for a few times, but… I’m not really sure if they’re dreams. They feel more… real.”

“Maybe he’s trying to reach out to you,” Lucy told and smiled gently. “To tell him he’s alright. I dream about my parents often, too, but they’re just… so obscure that they can’t be real messages. Just plain nightmares.”

Lately, all Erza had seen in her dreams was the wheat fields of Rorikstead, ablaze on dragonfire. The next day the news had reached Whiterun, Erza had ridden there with Jellal, and the images still haunted her. Jellal’s old family farm, which had also been her home, burned to the ground… she’d carry that nightmare to her grave.

The desolation had been complete. Only ashes were left of the people who lived there, shadows of their terror, lingering among the embers. But as she had walked through the ruined streets she’d once called her home, she couldn’t help but feel relief that she hadn’t been there, that Jellal hadn’t been there. They’d been in the safety of Jorrvaskr the night the attack happened, in the blissful comfort of her bed, while every soul of her childhood had been burned alive.

As terrible as it felt, Erza knew that during times like this, one shouldn’t feel guilty about surviving. Many would die, but many would not. For those who wouldn’t, life would be forever changed. Surviving meant carrying the torch of those who had passed, and in their honour, it was supposed to be carried bravely.

“But yeah, the stairway on the other side of the ruins is treacherous. Especially if it’s windy, like now,” Natsu told. It seemed like he didn’t want to talk about nightmares any longer, which made Erza doubt if he actually had them. “So, watch your step. Don’t be like me.”

Erza nodded. “Doesn’t that go without saying?”

She expected a punch to the face, or a firebolt to the gut, but Natsu just turned away instead. Erza was honestly surprised. Two years ago, he would’ve picked up a quarrel for any reason he could find. It had been the very reason someone had hired the Companion to beat him up. ‘Seems like Lucy’s company has been good for him, too.’

“Idiot,” he mumbled under his breath.

‘Or maybe not.’

As Natsu remembered, the pathway to Labyrinthian was located in a narrow passage on the mountainside. The ruins had been there for thousands of years, and changed very little since he had last been there.

An eerie silence fell among them when they passed below old, arched stone gates. Mountains around them isolated them from the wind. Natsu looked up. Hundreds of black birds roosted atop the gate, stared as they arrived at their territory. If they were expecting a feast, they were wrong. Natsu intended to pass through these ruins alive.

Many others hadn’t. Khajiit caravans sometimes went through Labyrinthian to save time, and the remains of their carriages were covered below the snow. Only bones were left of them now, but Natsu doubted the ravens or crows had been their fate. It had to be the frost trolls. They lived there in great numbers, he had witnessed them himself years ago – and running away from them had almost claimed his life at the same. He still didn’t understand how he had survived that fall. Perhaps it was the insane luck Lucy kept rumbling about.

But now, the ruins were quiet. No roars echoed on the walls of age-old rock. There was absolutely no sound except for scrunching snow below their footsteps. Natsu didn’t like it. In places like this, the silence was always more suspicious. None of them dared to say anything, but Natsu knew they all felt the same. Something was off.

The crows perched atop the gate grew restless. The silence withered as one bird started to caw, the others joining its dismaying, rasp melody. Natsu halted, and Lucy stopped by his side as well. Erza, who walked somewhere behind them, followed their example. All of them turned their gazes towards the birds.

Suddenly, the cluster of black birds flitted off. Their wings covered the blue skies as they flew south, as fast as they could. Endless, deep kraa, kraa, kraa echoed on the mountain’s walls, so deafening Natsu couldn’t even hear his own thoughts.

The mage had been so enraptured by the sight that he hadn’t noticed Lucy clutching his sleeve. A small tug on his arms made him look down to his side. Perhaps instinctively, she sought security from him. He allowed it – he didn’t have the heart to shove her away either. There hadn’t been an unexpected sound that would’ve scared off the birds, and single hawks weren’t a match for hundreds of crows. A few passing travellers wouldn’t have bothered them either. Lucy had all the right to get anxious, and while Natsu felt the fear building up within his chest, he couldn’t afford it.

Natsu glanced past his shoulder. Erza stood below the previous gate. He nodded to her, a sign to tread carefully. As much as he despised her, Natsu didn’t want to bury her yet. Last night’s battle at the bandit camp had proved that she could be useful. Putting her in the front line gave them a cutting edge.

When the crows were gone and their croaking faded, Lucy let go of his arm. They exchanged a confused gaze, as if she was apologizing, and he didn’t understand what for. Neither of them said anything. It was time to carry on, not a time for explanations.

The stone gates lead the way to the main entrance of the ruins. Labyrinthian had once been a great city among the mountains. Erza had told them more about the lore behind it, but Natsu hadn’t paid so much attention. It had once been a temple for the ancient dragon cult, and a base of operations during the Dragon War in the Merethic Era. When Natsu had last been here, he hadn’t thought about it at all. Igneel cared very little about old Nordic legends. To him, dragons had only been a way to frighten unruly children, and believed so until his death. Ironically, he died a mere minute before he would’ve seen one with his own eyes.

But now, threading through the ancient buildings, gnawed away by the tooth of time, Natsu felt different. As if he could hear old, silent whispers among the stones, of the people who lived there under the rule of the dragons. What kinds of horrors had these monuments witnessed? How much blood had this ground drunk? How many dragons had once gathered here? Had they been just like those crows, hundreds in numbers, perched atop the mountainsides?

Suddenly, Lucy halted again. “Do you see that?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. She pointed towards an opening that could’ve once been a circular plaza. There Natsu saw the same thing as her. A frost troll lay on the ground with an ice spike poking out of its chest. The ice was melting within the wound, and fresh blood steamed in the cold air. Natsu raised his gaze from the corpse to the area surrounding them. There didn’t seem to be any other trolls.

He began to walk to the troll’s remains, and Lucy caught his arm again. He let her hold onto him as she followed him. Just because one troll was dead, it didn’t mean that the rest would be, or that the thing which had killed it wouldn’t be just as dangerous. Natsu stopped near the troll and investigated. Erza caught up with them, but stayed slightly behind.

“It’s dead, thankfully. It has been killed just recently, which means we’re not alone in here,” Natsu told. He glanced at Erza. “What should we do?”

“I can check the eastern area, if you head to the western parts.”

Natsu nodded to the warrior. He agreed with her plan. “It might be smarter to separate, indeed, in case we’ll get ambushed. Easier to  help each other out if we aren’t all in trouble.”

“Exactly,” Erza answered and glanced at the dead troll. “An ice spike? Was it killed by a mage? No… Those are definitely sword wounds. Someone who wields both magic and steel.”

“Or then it might not be just one person. A group. Only an idiot would come here alone.”

“You’ve got a point. So, prepare for a battle, in case they are hostile. Unless we meet again earlier, let’s gather here when the sun is in the middle of the sky. Good luck. Be careful.”

Lucy couldn’t say anything as Erza left. In utter silence, she stared at the frost troll. Its three, ugly eyes were still open, gazing into the mists of death. Even though it was immovable, mortally wounded, very much dead, Lucy still shivered. Her hand clenched tighter into Natsu’s arm, so strong it almost hurt.

“Lucy?” Natsu asked. “You alright?”

She turned her glassy eyes to him and nodded faintly. “Yeah.”

Natsu knew it was a lie. There was no need for her to pretend she wasn’t afraid, nothing she needed to prove to him. Still, he somehow struggled to tell her that. The words just didn’t come. Since the events of Jorrvaskr, every word he spoke to her felt like a lie, just as much as the words he didn’t say. He had found himself in a situation where lies bred more lies, and he hated it. Only the truth would stop that wheel from spinning.

But how could he ever confess his betrayal? The night after it happened, he had stayed up for hours. His thoughts had only run on never-ending circles, which all came to the same conclusion – he’d keep it as a secret as long as he lived. He didn’t see any other way out of it, for telling the truth would surely destroy everything. Everything he had now.

That night, his thoughts had been brought to a stop when Lucy had suddenly broken free from the cocoon he had rolled her into. He acted surprised the morning when she found out, but he had, actually, been wide awake at that time. Too frightened to move, he had let herself settle snug against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his arm. She had probably just been cold and sought out for some warmth, but it had been… comforting. Soothing. He hadn’t really preferred for her to do so, but he hadn’t necessarily disliked it either. It allowed him to finally fall asleep. In other words, allowed him to cling to a belief that she didn’t hate him… yet.

But the more time would pass, the greater the damage would become when she’d eventually find out. When, not if. Secrets like that were doomed to be revealed, sooner or later. Just as equally, the longer he’d carry it inside of him, the heavier the burden would grow, but he’d carry it all if it meant staying with her. Because he knew that once she’d know, he’d be banished like an atronach into Oblivion. Just as lost.

The only thing he didn’t know was what he would do then.

Natsu studied the steps on the snow around the dead troll. Blood had sprayed all around, and whoever had killed the troll, had stepped on that blood. A trail of crimson steps led away from the scene, deeper into the ruins. He couldn’t afford to get distracted now, so he tried to banish the distress of his mind. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a simple spell for doing so.

Following the bloodied footsteps, they reached the top of the stairs, a platform where one could see over the entire city. There were higher parts and buildings than that, but this was in the middle, providing a good vision into each direction. And right below the stairway down from there, lied another dead troll – no, not just one. There was two of them, piled upon each other like slaughtered cattle.

And just as the previous one, these too had been pierced by ice spikes. Several of them. However, the spikes must’ve just slowed them down. They had been finalized by a sword. Again, there were only one human footsteps. A suspicion awakened in Natsu’s mind. There was one certain mage who combined ice and steel in battle.  

By his side, Lucy stood shivering. Her eyes were locked on the dead trolls, as if she didn’t want to look at them, but her mind forced her to. But what was going on inside her head, Natsu couldn’t tell. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and it didn’t seem like she would speak if he asked. The trolls weren’t as large as the one on the way to High Hrothgar, but the same size as the ones they’d fought in the mountain pass between Helgen and Ivarstead. Just as terrifying to her.

“Hey,” Natsu started quietly. For a second, he sought out words, but didn’t find any soothing ones. She always knew the right things to say. He didn’t. “I… I see you don’t… like them, and I get it. I wouldn’t be so happy to see frostbite spiders either, even if they’d be dead. But –“

“I’m not scared,” Lucy snapped, still not looking away from the troll blood on the frozen ground. “Not… Not of them. Somebody stole my change to… to fight against them again, and I…”

“I’m sure there will be some left for you to slay, if we just search,” Natsu gave back. He had sounded more annoyed than he truly was. Lucy silenced. Natsu knew she was only pretending she was mad about losing the chance to test her mettle against the trolls. “Better keep moving. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Lucy let go of his sleeve again when he set forth, but stayed close by. The collapsed buildings aside of the street had once been homes or storages for war contraband, and now proved as excellent hiding places. Natsu kept an eye on the windows and doors in case someone would charge from them. More dead trolls littered the place, killed the very same way as the previous ones. It became clear that they’d be facing off with a person instead of a beast – but if someone had taken down all these trolls by themselves, they had to be one kind of a beast as well.

The ruins weren’t called Labyrinthian for no reason. The streets were, indeed, like an old maze, labyrinth to get lost into. When Natsu looked back, he wasn’t sure where he had come from. The sun had still some time to climb to the highest spot of the day, but he doubted they would find their way back to the meeting place. Losing Erza into the maze didn’t sound like a bad idea at all.

After wandering aimlessly for a good while, there was finally a clue – a sound of a living troll. A low growl, accompanied with a grunt, and a war cry of a human.

Lucy halted when she heard the sound. This time, Natsu tugged her from the wrist, leading her forward. She couldn’t be paralyzed by her fear now. Natsu stayed close to the shelter of the stone walls, and followed the noises. When he reached the corner, he stopped and peeked past it.

‘Gods be damned.’

Out there, on the lower district of the ruins, a man fought against three trolls at once. Blood sprayed from the beast as he thrust a steel sword through its neck, while his other hand cast an ice spike and threw it to another's chest. Natsu squinted his eyes to see better through the blinding bright snow which surrounded the battle. The man had nothing to cover his nakedness with, except for troll blood, which flowed down his bare skin.

And in that instant, Natsu understood who it was.

“Uhm... You might not want to see this,” Natsu sighed. He shielded Lucy's eyes with his hands when she tried to get a look too. “It’s, well…”

Lucy resisted. “What? Who is it?” Out of curiosity, she moved his hands away. She shrieked as she saw it, and pulled them back to her eyes. “By Ysmir, it’s Gray!”

Muffling a disgusted laugh, Natsu shook his head. They were at a small distance away, and Gray hadn’t noticed them. He was absorbed into the intense battle. With a wide slash of his steel sword, he ripped apart a troll’s belly. Green, steaming intestines dropped to the ground with a wet thud. Bile rose in Natsu’s mouth.

“Should've guessed,” he muttered and tried not to throw up. “What in Azura’s name is he doing out here?”

“I don’t know, but why is he butt naked!?”

“Because he loves to show off his dick to these frost trolls before killing them. And seems like he’s enjoying it a bit too much. I don’t even want to know what he does after –“

“Don’t tell me more!” Lucy screamed, and the naked, fighting man turned his head towards them.

‘Great,’ Natsu cursed. Just when he had hoped to avoid meeting this flasher, Lucy had caught his attention. Gray finished the last troll by jumping into its back and thrusting the sword directly through the back of its head. The troll fell lifeless to the ground, and Gray leapt beside it. He stood there, gazing at them, as if waiting for them to come. Both of them owed an explanation, whether they liked it or not.

Reluctantly, Natsu led Lucy down the stairs. She still held tight on his hands which shielded her eyes. Gray met them on the halfway, and Natsu was, in fact, very happy to cover Lucy’s eyes.

Dark crimson blood flowed freely the man's bare body. An ugly graze adorned his chest, but all the blood couldn't be his. His skin gleamed in sweat as Natsu's gaze passed down to the half-stiff manhood hanging between his legs. Drops of blood dripped down from it. It had been a while since Natsu had seen anything as disturbing. Like that, Gray looked almost… barbarian.

“Well, well,” Gray started. Exhaustion made him pant. “This one cannot help but stare.”

Natsu grimaced and tore his eyes away from the vulgar display, looking to the dead trolls instead. “Didn't know you were so happy to see me.”

Lucy, unfortunately not understanding what they were talking about, attempted to peek between his fingers. “Huh, what?” she wondered, and managed to steal a peek. She screamed again. “Gods, why… why is it… like that…”

“Sorry,” the naked man said, not a hint of a sincere apology in his voice. “The rush of a battle can do this to a man sometimes. The blood, it just… flows wherever it wants to.”

“Even more importantly, that’s a pretty good fucking reason to keep pants on!” Natsu shouted at him. “Please. Put on some damn clothes already, like the civilized folk do!”

Shamefully absurd, he felt almost devastated to call this perverted man his fellow apprentice. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with Gray. Either he was completely crazy in the head, or supremely confident. He should be locked up for strutting around like that – especially in front of innocent Lucy, who couldn’t bear to see such obscenity.

Gray only chuckled mischievously. Lucy turned her back at the frost mage and whimpered from embarrassment. Gray crouched down, picked up a handful of fresh now and began to clean the blood off his skin. As he did so, he cast a healing spell on the wound on his chest. The bleeding stopped and the pain disappeared from his eyes. Relieved, the man rolled naked on the snow, leaving bloody stains on the whiteness.

When he was done cleaning himself up, he headed to the pile of clothes left on a rock near a stone pillar. To everyone’s relief, Gray dressed up in his robes, even though he looked uncomfortable to do so.

“So, what the fuck are you doing here?” Natsu asked him. Lucy finally dared to look at Gray, but the hot blush didn’t leave her cheeks.

“Should I ask the same from you?” Gray answered.

“You tell first,” Lucy demanded. She appeared like she’d cry and laugh at the same time.

“Well, the short answer is that I came here to train,” Gray said. He cleaned his sword on the snow before securing it on the seath on his belt. “The long answer is that we found a strange artefact from the ruins of Saarthal. We brought it to the College, but no one really knows what it is. So, I came to visit my mother in Morthal, if she’d know anything. And as I was passing by, I felt like fighting. Now’s your turn.”

Natsu bit his lower lip. It seemed that the man was speaking the truth. If even the Companions had heard of the findings of Saarthal, it had to be true. Natsu knew Gray’s adoptive mother lived in Morthal, which was just nearby.

Natsu glanced at Lucy. Previously, they had managed to come up with a suitable excuse, but now nothing came to his mind. He waited for Lucy to figure something out. Whatever she’d decide to say, Natsu had a feeling that Gray wouldn’t believe it.

“We… We are going to Solitude,” she told, her lie way too obvious for any fool to understand. “My cousin is getting married, so… we’re going to attend the wedding there.”

Gray gave them a long stare from below his raised eyebrows. “That’s quite a lot of horseshit. Nord weddings are held in Riften,” he said. “Honestly. Why are you here?”

Lucy fell silent. “Well… We…”

The clanking of steel interrupted her. Natsu glanced back, and saw Erza arriving. Gray noticed her as well. His grey eyes widened.

“Natsu, Lucy, I counted a few dead frost trolls. How about you?” the Companion asked, but then saw the stranger in front of them. “I bet you found their killer, too.”

Gray studied the warrior in silence. Her steel armour and Skyforge steel greatsword left no doubt of who she was. “What are you doing here with a Companion?” he wondered, the weights upon certain words emphasising his doubts.

Natsu and Lucy glanced at each other again. If there was a magic spell to read one’s mind, it would’ve been the most useful now. Neither of them said anything, but gladly Erza came to speak in their stead.

“They’re assisting me with the research of the dragons,” Erza told him. “We came into these ruins to investigate the dragon-slaying methods of the ancient Nords. They’ve survived the dragon attack at Helgen, so I hired them to work with me.”

Gray didn’t seem to swallow that. “You’re being missed at the College, and this is what you’re doing? Gathering dust and turning old stones?”

“It’s really important to me,” Lucy defended, her tone more confident now. Erza’s explanation hadn’t been a lie, and it had saved their hides now. “The dragons killed my parents, and burned my home. I want to fight them before I can fully focus on my studies of magic.”

Slowly, the frost mage nodded. Whether he accepted the explanation or not, Natsu didn’t know, but at least he finally shut up. Gray didn’t need to know why they were here. He didn’t need to know Lucy was the Dragonborn, on a very important mission.

“Do you know each other?” Erza asked.

“Unfortunately,” Natsu answered, grimacing. “He’s Gray, from the College of Winterhold.”

“I see,” the warrior answered. “But, I should thank you, Gray, for clearing out these trolls for us. It allows us to study the ruins without exhausting our energy in a battle.” She turned towards Natsu and Lucy. “Should we head to the first catacombs? I found the entrance, right behind that corner.”

Natsu was more than relieved when she said that. The briefer the encounter was kept with Gray, the better. They could move on, and in time, he could perhaps forget what he had seen. The image still burned his eyes.

“Sure,” Lucy nodded. “And well, Gray… Try not to freeze to death.”

Natsu scoffed. “Fucking hope you do.”

“Sorry, fire mage, but the cold won’t ever hurt me,” Gray said with a wicked grin. Then he looked at Erza again. “But why is a Companion researching into the dragons? Isn’t that more of a scholar’s work.”

“I work for a scholar,” Erza answered harshly. “That’s all you need to know. Goodbye, now.”

Erza turned around and began heading in the direction where she had come from. Natsu set off to follow her, but Lucy froze suddenly. For a brief moment, it looked like she was startled by something, something which Natsu couldn’t hear or see. Another troll, perhaps?

Lucy lifted her head to the skies. While they had talked, the azures had been hidden behind a veil of grey clouds, hanging low like a fog. Lucy’s eyes sparkled like frightened stars. Her hands started to shake again, and then she turned her gaze to Natsu.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered.

Natsu held his breath. He stood perfectly still and tried to catch whatever she had heard, but didn’t hear anything except his own agitated heartbeat drumming in his ears. First snowflakes fell on his hair and his black cloak, and for the briefest moment, the world seemed to slow down to a perfect still.

Then there was a deafening, hitch-pitched screech that pierced through a mind, and made the earth tremor below his feet.

A dragon emerged from the clouds.

It was gone before Natsu fully understood what it was. The strike of its wings sent all of them off their balance. Lucy caught his robes as they fell to the ground. On the edge of his vision, Natsu saw a white creature flying to the mountains. Elegantly like a swan, it turned around in the air and screamed – then it charged again. Faster than a bolt of lightning, it flew past them once more and perched atop a ruined tower. Rocks fell to the ground from the force of the impact.

Natsu cursed in his mind, cursed so much the words slipped from his lips. Though his limbs nearly froze from terror, he forced himself back up. He grabbed Lucy from the arms and upon his first instinct, he dragged her behind the nearest stone formations, even though he knew they wouldn’t shelter them against a dragon. There had been no signs of it before it appeared out of the blue… or had there?

Could it have frightened off the crows?

They peeked behind the rocks as the dragon inhaled. It was different from the ones they’d seen before, as if its body was entirely made from snow and ice. Its shape was more slender, its neck longer and wings larger. Natsu couldn’t see where Erza had gone, but Gray stood up in the middle of the plaza, eyes locked with the dragon sitting at the top of the tower.

Then the dragon breathed.

A storm of frost and wind emerged from its throat with a powerful screech. The air around them grew colder in an instant, bit deep into his bones with the wrath of winter. His heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. Natsu watched as Gray disappeared into the blizzard, but then he had to crouch, curl into as small as he could, or the storm would catch him too.

The dragon closed its mouth and flit off again, but the blizzard within its wake persisted. As it flew through the air, it left a trail of snow and frost behind it. With widened, terror-struck eyes Natsu gazed at it, and the storm where his fellow apprentice had just stood.

Slowly, the cloud of snow subsided. And from the snow, emerged Gray, unscathed by the storm. A layer of crystalized frost covered his whole body, and his hair had turned white. But he was alive. A damned, wicked smile appeared on his lips, and the ice crackled on his cheeks. ‘That man is insane,’ Natsu thought, but couldn’t help but grin.

“Come at me, dragon!” Gray shouted to the flying beast, as loud as he could. “No frost will ever hurt a Nord!”

There were so much Natsu wanted to say, but all he could do was to look at Lucy. They exchanged a brief glance, gathered a moment’s courage in each other. This time, they knew there was hope. They could fight that thing. They could bring it down, and kill it. They just had to.

No matter what.

Chapter Text

Lucy had sensed the dragon’s presence deep in her bones since the moment they arrived in Labyrinthian, yet foolishly failed to recognize it.

Now they all had to pay the price.

The moment Gray vanished into the blizzard, Lucy knew he’d be gone. If she had realized that the nearby dragon was the cause of her inner distress, not the trolls, she could’ve warned him. It was too late. Even though she hadn’t truly known the man, Lucy’s heart wrenched as she stared into the swirling snowstorm where he had just been.

Once before, Gray had told her how their Nord ancestors could withstand any weather, and how their bodies were still the same. There was power in their blood, a power to cast away any cold, a fire burning in the hearts of the Nords of Skyrim. But this was no weather, not an ordinary blizzard Gray had grown immune to. Lucy heard the words of power in the dragon’s scream, Fo, Krah, Diin, yet she couldn’t translate them to human tongue – she just knew that the dragon’s breath was never-ending winter itself condensed into a single exhale.

The air surrounding her and Natsu turned frigid upon the dragon’s command. The cold clasped her throat like a frozen, metallic fist. Terrified, she glanced at Natsu. The mage had pressed himself against the stones. He shivered. Natsu wasn’t a Nord, and shared none of the frost resistance of their blood. Lucy’s arms felt frozen as she tried to reach out to him, as if she had no strength left to move them at all.

When the blizzard around them subsided, they peeked past the rocks again. Lucy couldn’t believe her eyes, and she forgot to breathe. Gray was supposed to be dead, frozen alive as Natsu had ironically hoped just a few minutes ago, but there he stood. Gods damn it, there he stood, among the whirling snows, and he just laughed.

Impossible.

Lucy looked into the dragon’s ice blue eyes as the creature stared at Gray. She could swear even it was surprised by the man’s immersive endurance against frost.

“Come at me, dragon!” Gray’s shout echoed loudly in the air. “No frost will ever hurt a Nord!”

Was she supposed to feel encouraged or enraged by that? A layer of frost covered Gray, and like using the snow around him like clay, he created a spear from ice. It was longer than the ice spikes he had produced earlier. Its tip was shaped like an arrowhead. Gray launched it directly towards the dragon, but it rose on its wings, and the spear was crumbled against the stone tower.

The dragon was fast. It flew faster than Sahklonir, even faster than Alduin. Something else about it was different, and it wasn’t the element only. As if it was somehow smaller, more petite than the previous dragons. Its scales were bright white like freshly fallen snow, but it had fewer, smaller spikes along its spine, and completely lacked horns. It soared through the skies again, disappearing into the clouds before it breathed another blizzard upon the plaza.

And somehow, they’d have to defeat it, or they’d die.

A strong tug on her arm made her realise she had dangerously zoned out. Forcefully, Natsu dragged her out of the snowstorm’s way into the shelter of an old building. Half of it had sunk to the ground, so she had to crouch down to crawl through the small doorway. Natsu followed her as soon as she was in. The blizzard kept sweeping the streets where they had just been, and though the cold reached inside the stone walls, they protected them from the most ruthless winds. For a moment, they both stayed perfectly silent, and just listened.

When the dragon flew over the ruins, it made a strange, sharp, and high chirping sound. The sound created a resonance within Lucy’s heart, as if she could read the dragon’s emotion. It was excited about its opponents, excited to hunt them down like a cat chases mouse. In the darkness of the building, Natsu and Lucy glanced at each other, both knowing they’d have to come up with a plan, and fast.

“Fucking shit, I did not see that one coming,” Natsu whispered. Maybe the dragon couldn’t see them, but it would hear them, so he kept his voice as low as he could. “What do we do?”

“We kill it,” Lucy answered, straightforward, but doubt lingered in her voice. “But this one’s different from before. We should observe it first. If we charge straight into the battle, like last time, we’ll be out of magicka in a second. Before we attack, we have to know how it attacks.”

Natsu nodded. “Let’s conjure our flame atronachs first. Fire didn’t do much against the dragon in Kynesgrove, but could it work now? Since it breathes frost. Maybe the opposing elements deal more damage.”

Though there was no proof to it until tested in action, his theory made sense.

“Could be,” said Lucy. “Did you see Erza?”

“No.”

“And what about Gray? I don’t understand how he came out unscathed from the breath attack.”

“The arrogant bastard might be invincible against ice, but no one’s a match for the dragon’s talons. They’ll rip him apart if he’s not careful. But we can’t focus on him now. Let him handle himself.”

As cruel as it sounded, Lucy knew he was right. If Gray foolishly thought of the dragon as another frost troll to test his mettle against, he’d surely meet his end, and they had to let him do it. “Okay,” she admitted, with woe and worry in her voice.

“And whatever happens, don’t believe what Gray says about no frost hurting a Nord. Don’t get lost in that blizzard. No matter what.”

Lucy gazed into his eyes. There was more he tried to say, but there wasn’t time.

“Didn’t mean to.”

“Good,” he answered. “And –“

Before he could finish the sentence, a part of the stone ceiling came crumbling down. He reacted instantly and pushed Lucy out of the doorway into the snow. Lucy helped him out as she watched how the dragon landed on the wall next to them, and smashed their hiding place into fragments with its tail. Not letting go of his hand, Lucy ran forward on the narrow alley, and hid into the shadows as the dragon took off again.

“Ready?” she asked. Natsu knew what she meant. Concentrating firmly on the new spell she had learned today, she formed a purple portal on her palm. A gateway to Oblivion opened as she cast the spell in front of her, and a flaming creature passed through. ‘Maiden’, as she had just named it.

Natsu summoned his own flame atronach. He sent it a bit further away, past the building they had been hiding at. Lucy’s Maiden floated to his Flame Boy, and together they began searching for a good opening from where to launch fireballs at the dragon. Natsu and Lucy waited in the alley. They heard Gray’s war cry from afar, and it no longer sounded as confident. Lucy began to fear the worst.

“This place is gonna be both good and bad for us,” Natsu started silently. He watched as the dragon flew over the atronachs, and their fireballs missed it. “There ain’t too many spots for the dragon to land. We can hide among the buildings and streets, but if we find ourselves in a dead-end, then, well, we’re dead.”

They pressed themselves against the wall. The dragon roared ice towards their conjured creatures. One fireball blasted against the dragon’s wing. It let out a startled screech, which sparked hope in Lucy’s heart. Maybe it could be damaged. And it seemed fire did more damage than anything else.

“Let’s not die, then.”

Natsu grinned at her.

While their atronachs were being beaten into embers, Lucy conjured her bow. The enchanted robes she got from the scholar gave her an excellent boost for casting conjuration spells, and her magicka didn’t feel nearly as depleted as it used to be after summoning bound bow. She placed her feet into her fighting stance and picked an arrow. It gleamed faint blue, wavering light on her hands.

Adding fire to her arrows would be useful now, but it was a thing she couldn’t do by herself, yet. The conjured bow kept both of her hands occupied, unable to cast flames at the same time. Lucy didn’t need to ask Natsu to do it. He created a bolt of flames and placed it on the rock beside her. From there, she could set each arrow aflame – as long as she could stay in that spot, which she inspected wouldn’t be for long.

Natsu stepped to the other side of the street. He combined a fireball with his both hands and kept it contained in his hold, trying to aim for the dragon. When the beast landed on top of a wall, possibly searching for Gray, Natsu threw the fireball. It exploded on its back and evoked a deep, pained roar from its throat. Flinched, Lucy released her flaming arrow, which found its way to the dragon’s leg – and deflected down from its scales.

‘What?’

The dragon made a short, sharp turn towards them. When it locked its blue eyes with Lucy, she felt her blood running cold, freezing within her veins. The dragon stared at her, analyzing her, and then it understood who she was.

“Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi.”  The dragon spoke. Somehow, as if awakening the understanding of the language Sahklonir once spoke, Lucy knew what it meant. ‘So, you're the Dragonborn? I see nothing of the dragon about you.’

She’d prove it wrong. Lucy answered by shooting another flaming arrow directly at the dragon’s head.

And again, it just bounced back. This time, Lucy saw how the flames were put out the very moment they touched the dragon’s frozen scales.

Lucy swallowed in terror. Natsu had seen it too. He tossed another fireball towards the dragon, and the same thing happened – the coldness it radiated was enough to smother all fire out of existence before it could damage it.

So much of their observation.

So much of their plan to get out of these ruins alive.

“Diin arkh dir!”

The roar tore through Lucy’s mind. Before she understood, she was being dragged out of a blizzard’s way, deeper into the stone alleys of the ruined city. Natsu’s hand grasped around her wrist like an iron chain. The air around them grew so cold it hurt to breathe, like frozen needles were filling her throat and lungs. They escaped behind the corners while the dragon glided above them, as if enjoying driving them into the maze, into the dead end.

Natsu cast a very faint flame cloak around himself – Lucy could barely see the fire, but felt its warmth. Just as equally as their fire spells were deflected on the frozen scales, its blizzards wouldn’t reach through the flame cloak. Lucy hoped she’d learned that, too. She couldn’t sap into its warmth, or she’d burn. But as she looked into him, she could tell he was lost in thoughts just as desperate as hers.

“Why won’t your arrows work?” Natsu asked harshly. “You killed Sahklonir with the same bow.”

“I don’t know!” Lucy hissed, frustrated. “The frost is protecting it, somehow.”

Lucy couldn’t hear Gray’s voice anymore. He was somewhere on the other side of the stone walls, but as a corpse or not, Lucy wasn’t sure. The dragon had lost interest in him and hunted her instead, for killing her was its priority. And if she couldn't figure out how to tear down its protection, it would succeed. She couldn’t run and hide forever.

She tried to think. The dragon wanted them dead, there was no doubt of it, but one detail caught Lucy’s attention. Instead of severing them apart with its talons, which would’ve been a sure, fast way to kill them, it relied on long-range combat. It avoided getting too close to them. What could it mean?

“Can you use the Shouts against it? What you practised with the Greybeards?” Natsu asked her.

“I’m not sure,” Lucy answered. “They require a lot of concentration, and –“

“Then fucking concentrate and try.”

Lucy failed to retort. He was right. She couldn’t surrender to her fear. Her first attacks might’ve failed, but if she could use Unrelenting Force against the dragon, to force aside the ice shielding it, then they could have a chance.

“Okay.”

She wasn’t sure at all if it would work. Lucy held tight on the handle of her bow. She had to keep the spell up while using the Thu’um, a risk she had to take. When she sighted the dragon again, as it landed on the end of the street and gazed at them in between two buildings, she knew her chance had come. She signalled Natsu to step back. Then she focused her whole soul into her voice.

“Fus Ro!”

Even though her shout lacked the final word, the last portent of its immense strength, it staggered the dragon. It swallowed its frozen exhale, and within a second’s opening, Lucy drew an arrow and released it. Together with Natsu’s fireballs, the arrows hit the dragon’s chest. It let out a hoarse cry of pain. The arrows had sunk into its flesh, and the fire burned its thick skin. Though she couldn’t do it again immediately, now she knew how to damage it. And if something could be damaged, it could be destroyed.

Instead of emanating another blizzard upon them, the dragon spread its wings and rushed forward. It soared right above the buildings they hid amongst. Natsu’s gaze followed the dragon’s trajectory, and while Lucy couldn’t move so fast with her drawn bow, he hurried to the other side of the street to get a proper line of sight. Natsu launched two firebolts at it, missed, and cursed.

All out of sudden, the dragon whipped its tail, and the gate between them collapsed. Snow and stone came crumbling down, and Natsu disappeared on the other side of the dust and stone. Chills of terror ran all over Lucy’s body. Unable to move, unable to do anything, she stared at the destruction, her racing heartbeat almost coming to a stop.

She should’ve never let go of his hand.

“Natsu!” Lucy shouted through the rocks and debris. Only the dragon answered, roaring and striking the monuments down with its tail and wings. She’d been wrong when she thought she’d be the first the dragon would kill. It knew its weakness against fire, and decided to bring down the one who wielded it.

“I’m okay!” he answered, his voice muffled by the rock and ice between them. Her relief was only faint. “A bit stuck here, but I’ll find a way out. You go find Erza or Gray. I’ll be fine!”

The uncertainty in his voice scared her, but she couldn’t stay there waiting for him to climb his way out of the trap. Snow fell down from the sky, heavy and thick, and she was losing sight of the dragon as it disappeared into the whiteness. Its hoarse, grating sounds let her estimate its location on the skies. Again, it had attacked briefly, and then gained distance. Sahklonir hadn’t withdrawn from the battle, not even for the smallest moment, arrogant and overestimating as it had been. It had wanted to feast on human flesh for the first time in thousands of years, but this one was cautious. Careful, as if it was protecting something more valuable than its own life.

Her choice was to trust in Natsu, and not let her worry falter her now. He had a fool’s luck, like divine protection, and he’d survive anything.

“If you die, I’ll kill you!” she shouted, and then she ran.

As snow and frost filled the streets, she struggled to find the way she had come from. If she’d stay among the labyrinth of the old city, she’d be trapped like Natsu. The open area, the plaza was where Gray had been, would be better. She knew she’d be more vulnerable there, but she could cast Oakflesh to protect her, as well as a Steadfast Ward to take cover from the blizzards.

She sensed within her soul as the dragon drew near again. Called by an agitated resonation, she turned her head towards the northern skies, and glimpsed it among the clouds. Instinctively, she drew her bowstring and shot an arrow. It missed. When the dragon was on the fly, it was impossible to aim successfully, no matter how she tried to predict its movements. Lucy dispelled her Bound Bow. Keeping it summoned drained too much of her magicka. It frightened her to think what would happen if she’d run out of it. As she’d seen before, a dagger wasn’t a potent weapon against a dragon.

By the current amount of weaponry they had, Erza’s greatsword held the greatest chance to hurt the dragon. Lucy had to find her, even wield her blade herself if Erza couldn’t do it. And if the warrior had fled the scene in her fear, Lucy swore that she’d beat her up when they’d meet again in Sovngarde.

And then, near the collapsed hut she’d first taken shelter at, stood a person, not the one Lucy had expected. It was Gray, who looked like a snowman himself, covered in a thick layer of frost. His movements were slow as he created another frozen spear and launched it into the obscured clouds. A pained growl let Lucy know he had hit his target. Then the man turned his head and glanced at her.

“What are you doing?” Gray asked, his voice exhausted. “Get out of here as fast as you can. I’ll fight the overgrown lizard, like my ancestors once did.”

“So did mine. I’ll fight, too.”

It seemed that every time Gray didn’t swallow an answer, he just silenced into it. Choked. His chest was bleeding again, and the snow on him was dyed bright crimson. Lucy sensed he was dangerously low on magicka. He couldn’t fight for long.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered. Grunting, the man cast a healing spell on his wound. The frost troll’s graze had opened again. “Finally, a worthy opponent. I’ve got to admit, it’s a bit chilly, even for me.”

“You’re joking.”

Gray grinned. “For a brief moment, my ice spears actually sunk through its skin, but now they shatter to pieces again. It gathers the frost around it and forms new scales from it. Ice is like that, to be shaped upon the caster’s will.”

He had to mean the moment Lucy had shouted apart the dragon’s scales. The effect had lasted merely for a minute, but a minute was enough for the final blow. The most vulnerable part of the dragon was the mouth. If she’d manage to shoot it directly into the opened mouth, the arrow would pierce through its skull from the inside, damaging it mortally.

She just needed a lot more open air to do that.

“I know what to do,” she said in a rush. “Come with me.”

As Gray asked no questions, Lucy began running towards the plaza. She followed the monuments, landmarks she vaguely remembered. The raging snows and winds concealed the ruins, but she found herself in the middle of the opening. From there, she saw how a fireball flew through the air and struck the dragon’s side, causing the beast to halt in an instant.

“Fo Krah Diin!”

Frost, cold, freeze. Those were the words of power, Lucy knew now. The dragon’s shout resounded all around the ruins as it breathed a blizzard directly where the fireball had come from. Frozen herself, Lucy stared at the sight. Had that been Natsu, or just his atronach? She had tried to trust he would be alright, but would he survive that? She began to doubt it.

She braced herself as the dragon landed on the tower in front of them.

“You just stand back for a while, and when I say so, throw an ice spear directly at the dragon,” Lucy explained and commenced to conjure her bow. She opened the gates on her palms and pulled the threads of magic from the depths of Oblivion, and so the magical, shining bow came into her hands once again.

The dragon opened its mouth, and so did she.

“Fus Ro!”

Gray’s dark eyes widened as wide as the moons. At that moment, Lucy couldn’t give a single fuck about keeping her identity as a Dragonborn as a secret. Be it revealed to the whole world, it didn’t matter at all. Gray’s true reaction was concealed behind his silence, but his expression spoke of utter awe.

Her shout didn’t push the dragon down from the tower, but still staggered it greatly. A faint sound of cracking ice echoed within the ruins, and Lucy knew their moment had come. One deathly shot. It was all it took.

“Now!”

Upon her command, Gray threw the ice spear before she managed to shoot an arrow. The ice spear struck into the dragon’s shoulder. It sunk halfway to its flesh, and the crystal clear ice turned blood red. Lucy’s arrow hit the dragon’s mouth, but was stopped by its tongue before it would’ve torn apart its throat. Lucy mumbled a curse, but knew it was still good damage. With its tongue ripped, it wouldn’t cast any more blizzards –

“Fo Krah Diin!”

She stood directly into the snowstorm’s way as it erupted within the dragon’s mouth. Droplets of blood flew among the frost, wounded wrath, winter’s deathly embrace. The cold clasped her limbs, freezing them solid, making it impossible for her to flee. She failed to mutter a single word as the world around him vanished into a veil of whiteness, and she knew she’d be gone. Just as gone as their moment.

‘Don’t get lost in the blizzard. No matter what.’

Natsu’s words echoed in her mind as the blizzard surrounded her. But then, she realized that the sharpest winds blew past her, as if something stood in between her and the dragon. The frost blinded her, she couldn’t see what, but something protected her. No, someone.

When the cloud of snow settled down, she saw a wall of ice formed around her, built in the blink of an eye. And in the ground, in front of her feet, lay Gray, barely conscious. Gray had erupted a wall from ice only to keep her safe. Lucy’s eyes widened as tears welled up. Her bow vanished from her hands.

She raised her eyes from the frost mage to the dragon. The beast knocked the ice spear from its shoulder with its head, and the wound was closed by ice. The hope she had once felt withered from her soul. The dragon jumped down from the tower and landed heavily on the ground in front of her, the earth quaking as it walked towards her.

And as tears rolled on her cheeks, they were frozen in an instant.

A trail of blood flowed down on Natsu’s face as he finally slammed shut the door of the tunnels he had been lost into.

At first, he had thought that fighting a dragon in Labyrinthian would come to their advantage. How foolish had he been. What he had thought would be a shelter against the blizzards, turned out to be a frozen deathtrap. He had misjudged the strength of the stone walls against a dragon’s brute force. The truth had dawned to him when the first whiplash from its tail had brought down the gate and blocked the way between him and Lucy, which now felt like a forever ago.

Natsu had lost the track of time. One of the falling rocks had struck his head, but otherwise, he had survived unscathed from the destruction. Much to the dragon’s disdain, his flame cloak had repelled the frost breath, giving him just enough time to escape the alley before the beast wrecked it all. He had run to a ruined building and found a locked door. The lock had been no match to his enraged kick, and so the old iron had given in.

If getting separated from Lucy had been his first mistake, going into the burial crypt of the ancient dragon cult had been the second.

Natsu slammed shut the door behind him and pressed his back against it. The Draugr, a dozen of them, scratched the old wood and snarled. Gods, how much he hated those things. It would’ve been a waste of time and magicka to stay behind and fight them. Just barely, he had managed to dodge the strikes of their axes and swords and found a way to the second exit. If there hadn’t been one, he wouldn’t have been so lucky to survive. Now he just hoped the undead would stay in their crypt, now that they had driven out the intruder.

Struggling to catch his breath, he raised his eyes to the sky. He couldn’t see the dragon, but he heard its rasping, angered growls. He hadn’t estimated the length of the crypt, but figured he couldn’t have ended up too far. Perhaps to the other side of the city at worst, but still within the area.

Suddenly, the wooden door behind him cracked. He flinched and jumped around. A sword had pierced through the door, and the blue eyes of the Draugr wielding it shone through the hole. Natsu grit his teeth, readied a flame on his palms, and cast a flaming rune to the door. The moment they’d finally break through it, they’d be caught in an explosion. He cast another rune to the ground where he had stood. It should take care of the rest of the Draugr, in case they’d survive the first blow.

“Burn, you fucking creeps,” he muttered at the undead. He left them to smash the door with their weapons, wiped the blood from his forehead and ran along the path which led out of the crypt’s entrance.

Soon, he arrived in the upper district of the city. While he’d been gone, the world had disappeared into a white veil of snow. Natsu pulled himself upon the stones of a fallen monument, and tried his best not to fall. He sought for a glimpse of Lucy, but there was no sign of her.

Then he heard a scream, coming from the south. A scream he easily recognized.

Lucy stood there, in the middle of the open plaza, defenceless, looking so small from there. Gray lay on the ground among shards of broken ice, blood staining the snow underneath him. Lucy crouched by his side and attempted to cast a healing spell on him, but failed. A strange slash of a tail swept down the ice wall around them, forcing her to back down.

It was only then when Natsu saw the dragon.

The dragon swooped Gray out of its way. The frost mage flew through the air and tumbled to the side of the plaza. Lucy screamed something, but Natsu couldn’t make out of the words. The dragon approached her, and for every step Lucy managed to fall back, the dragon crept closer. Lucy stumbled on the ice and fell on her back, and Natsu knew he had been stranded too far. No matter how fast he’d run, he couldn’t save her now.

And just as the ice crackled and broke below the dragon’s heavy steps, Natsu felt his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. He had once believed witnessing Igneel’s death would’ve already broken it, but he had been wrong. If some parts of his soul had stayed unscathed from that, they broke now as he was forced to watch another friend die.

In that moment, the red string of fate, the thing which had kept him alive since the disaster his life had blown into, slipped through his fingers.

The dragon opened its mouth, lines upon lines of razor-sharp teeth ready to shred Lucy apart. As the final effort to stop the beast, Natsu ignited a blast of fire on his palms. But before he could launch it, the dragon stopped. Its whole body fidgeted with a force, and a loud screech escaped its throat. Then Natsu saw the blood. It flooded from the wound at the root of its tail, which now connected to its body in an unnatural angle, partly severed.

Erza Scarlet swung her greatsword again, and the tail was cut off from the dragon’s body.

The flames withered in Natsu’s hands. Awestruck, he watched as the tail twitched and wiggled like it was still alive, spraying blood from the wound. The dragon’s roar of agony filled the entire skies. Quickly, it turned and faced the warrior. Even from afar, Natsu could see the fear in Erza’s eyes, but still, she placed her trembling feet in a fighting stance and charged at the dragon again.

And Natsu knew he had to get to them, now.

He slid down the snow-covered stones, caught the edges whenever he could so he wouldn’t fall too high, and landed at the edge of the plaza. He rolled forward when he hit the ground, sprung up and ran to Lucy. She crawled away from the dragon, her hands and knees slipping on the ice beneath them.

“Lucy!”

She lifted her head and forced herself to stand. Natsu reached her before she took a single step forward. Crying, Lucy fell in his arms, and for the briefest moment, they were lost in the happiness of finding each other alive, against all the chances.

Lucy’s trembling, frostbitten fingers clutched sharply into his robes. Frantically, she shook her head and screamed as the tears poured down her face. Natsu couldn’t hear her words, but her desperation showed through her actions. And he couldn’t stand to see her crying. Crying, like she had given up.

Before the fire mage could say anything to her, the moment was broken by the dragon’s heart-wrenching shout. A desperate whirl of ice and emerged upon its call. Erza was buried within the blizzard, and then the dragon unfolded its wings. A lid of frost had formed on the stump of its tail. While it no longer bled, the beast had lost its balance. It flapped its wings like a crippled bird, trying to gain altitude and fly straight towards the crags on the mountainside.

It was gone, but not for good. It would regain its strength, and then attack again, and kill them.

Lucy had stopped screaming. Blankly, she stared after the dragon, but then her eyes moved down to the warrior. Natsu saw her too. Erza sat on the ground, hands wrapped around her knees. Her sword lay adjacent to her feet. The dragon’s breath had frozen her solid – the steel which had always protected her from the blows would be her death now, clued to her skin like a tongue on cold iron.

“We must help her,” Lucy stuttered, and took a faint step forward. “And Gray… Do you see him anywhere?” The concern in her voice was sincere.

Natsu looked around, but his vision was getting blurry. There was only the endless white, as if rage and worry had stolen his world for every other colour. He couldn’t find Gray among the snow, but he had seen the hit he had taken. He doubted they’d find him alive. As much as he hated Gray, Natsu hated the thought of having to report another’s apprentice’s death to the Archmage more. His chest hollowed as they walked through the battleground to Erza.

The warrior’s vaporized breath rose towards the sky in short, bated puffs. Her face was as white as a ghost’s. A layer of frost hid away the scarlet of her hair, and her armour glimmered like an untouched blanket of snow. Her eyes were closed – no, frozen, and she could not open them. But she sensed them coming. Feebly, she opened her mouth to talk, but no words came out.

Lucy fell on her knees in front of Erza. She struggled not to cry again. Her frostbitten hands touched the warrior’s slumped shoulders, and her bare fingers stuck on the frigid steel. Natsu had to admit that the frost resistance of a Nord was, indeed, an astonishing thing. He would’ve already died in the place of any of them.

“What should… What should we do?” Lucy wondered. She looked over her shoulders, raising her eyes to Natsu. “She’s going to die. She saved us. We… We can’t let her…”

The helplessness in her gaze made him uneasy. Erza had only bought them time, not saved them. Natsu looked back to the warrior, her iced shell, and knew there was but one way to rescue her. Only one thing could reverse frost.

Fire.

Natsu lifted his left hand above Erza’s head. He glanced at Lucy, and she understood to step back. Then he created an aura of fire around the frozen warrior. Not a roaring pyre, but gentle like wavering light. The flames did not touch her, but radiated their warmth, and so the ice began to melt. Erza opened her eyes.

“Don’t move,” Natsu commanded. “The fire should warm up your armour and then wear off, but if you touch it, you’re dead. Consider it as thanks.”

The frigid blood in her limbs could charge straight into her heart and stop it, but Natsu didn’t bother to tell her that. A faint cough from behind them caught his attention. Covered in snow and stained with blood, a figure lay on the ground a few paces away.

“Gray? You’re alive?” Lucy asked and hurried to the frost mage.

Though Natsu was usually filled with ire just looking at Gray, now it was suddenly gone. The frost wall around Lucy had to be of Gray’s creation, and it had saved her life. He ought to thank him for it, too, but somehow couldn’t.

“Y-yeah,” Gray stuttered weakly and coughed again. Blood burst from his mouth. “But if… if you could fetch me a magicka potion, that… t-that would be great.”

Lucy nodded many times. “Where’s your pack?”

“S-should be on the root of that tower.”

Lucy ran to the tower Gray pointed at, and returned with a couple of blue bottles. Natsu stayed back and watched as she helped the frost mage to drink them. The depletion of his magicka was complete, but he was also wounded. How mortally, that Natsu couldn’t tell from afar. When the potions had been emptied, Gray cast a healing spell upon himself, but still wasn’t even able to stand up.

The dragon growled somewhere in the distance, and Natsu knew they were running out of time. Erza and Gray couldn’t fight, and Lucy probably wouldn’t either. Was it all up to him, then?

What in the Oblivion could he even do?

He glimpsed the dragon through the mist. It circled in the air, like trying to learn how to fly again after losing its tail. If a sword made from Skyforge steel had cut it off, perhaps other weapons made the same way could hurt it, too? Yet, how unfortunate it was that he only had two daggers made from the same steel instead of a dragon-slaying spear…

Suddenly, Natsu got a terrifying idea that would, most likely, kill them all if it backfired. But in case it wouldn’t, it could also save them – a risk he had to take.

He had almost lost Lucy here, and he couldn’t let it happen again.

Not wasting any time on explaining his plan to Lucy and the others, Natsu set forward. He took the left-side dagger from its sheath and walked a bit more. All of his rage focused into magicka in his hands, materialized as angered sparks that dropped to the ground as he walked. Waiting for the dragon to land and assaulting it with these butterknives would mean certain death, but it wasn’t his intention, not at all.

He would bring the dragon down from the skies with them.

Two daggers, two tries. Natsu glanced at the deathly sharp blade. His blood-stained face reflected from it, but the image disappeared into the flames as he set the dagger on fire. He squeezed the hilt tight as he began to pour the fire with his will, forcing it to form a flaming spike to both ends of the weapon. If anyone had ever used flame spears and combined them with a steel blade, Natsu had never heard of it.

He intended to be the first.

The spear began to take form as the sorcery of fire weaved around the dagger, which became its core. It gathered the heat and burned his skin, but he carried on – no, carried away. He severed all restraints, lost his mind into the fire, not caring what he’d burn in the process. Himself, these ruins, the whole world of Nirn, it didn’t matter. He just had to get it done.

He set the very essence of magic itself ablaze.

Uncontrolled, untamed, the fire spread from his reigns and surrounded him into a storm of raging flames. It fed on his anger, on his fear, on his determination to live, until the spear was finished. As long as he was tall, it had become a missile of a condensed inferno, ready to meet its target and explode.

‘Come at me, dragon.’

There it came, as if it heard his call. Up in the distant clouds, it soared towards them, barely visible among the fog and snow. Natsu’s precise gaze followed it for a second, and then he lifted the spear to the height of his head. It seared, roamed like a wildfire in dry woods – he loved the sound. The dragon’s wings were spread wide, like it was gliding down, unable to fly. He aimed for the body in between them, its lungs, and then he sprinted onward.

He sped up to produce enough power, turned his body towards his throwing arm, used all of his strength and might to thrust the spear forward. Then he released.

The momentum carried him forward several steps. He fell on his hands and knees into the fiery ground, smothering the flames beneath him, and raised his eyes to the sky. The roaring hiss still echoed in his ears, or then it was just the rush of his own blood, as he watched the spear fly through the skies, forever upwards, like it would reach the moon if nothing came on its way.

Then a dragon did.

The spear impaled the beast’s chest, pierced through its frozen scales, and the vision Natsu witnessed next would stay with him until his last breath. The dragon opened. Fire engulfed its torn lungs when the rest of his blazing sorcery exploded inside of it. Like wine poured from a barrel, blood gushed down from the horrific wound as it descended from the skies which has once been the dragon’s realm.

It was raining dragonblood.

An otherworldly, blood-gurgling cry emanated from the dying creature. The dragon kept frantically flapping its wings, trying to gain more air, but it fell, fell, fell. Natsu, hallowed by the sight, realized he was directly on the line of upcoming impact. He sprung upon his trembling feet and sprinted, as fast as he could, out of its way.

And as if Secunda itself had fallen from the night sky, the dragon plunged to the ground. The pressure wave of the enormous impact threw the fire mage off his feet. He landed face-first to the rocky field, and for a moment, everything turned dark, and very silent. So silent he thought he had died, too.

Then someone shouted his name.

Natsu was harshly turned around. He opened his eyes, but all he could see was fire. Fire and dragonblood. His whole body shivered from the excess use of magicka – he had depleted it all in one shot, and the two tries he had thought had never been. There had been only one chance. He had never felt so weak, but so strong at the same time. Almost like a hero. Natsu pressed his palms into his eyes, and could still feel the remaining heat of his spell lingering on his touch.

His name was shouted again.

Someone moved his hands from his eyes, forced him to look at them. And now he saw Lucy. Her fingers sizzled where she held him from. Natsu could smell her skin burning up, but she did not let go of his hands. Besides this, that her hands were burning, he couldn’t understand what was going on. Maybe he didn’t need to. They were alive, and nothing else mattered at that moment.

He sought for something to say, but not a single word came to his mind. Everything was blank, faded, dizzy. Slowly, he looked away from Lucy. A column of black smoke rose skyward behind her, the first and final pyre for the frost dragon to rest on.

“… and when you disappeared into the flames, I… I was sure that we lost you there, but then you… you just… incredible…”

It was then when Natsu realised Lucy had been speaking for a while. Her voice was feeble and thin, but gradually her words began to make sense to him. The world around him formed back from the place had been lost into. As if he had temporarily stepped into a plane of Oblivion where only fire reigned, drawn power from those flames, and returned. Now, he was somewhere in the frozen ruins of Labyrinthian, just a bit more ruined than before.

“Is it dead?”

Those were the first words he managed to utter. Lucy silenced. She glanced past her shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

Lucy helped him back on his feet, yet it felt like his every bone had been grounded into dust. He fought to stay conscious as he followed Lucy to the edge of the crater the dragon had created. On the bottom of the chasm, lay the torn-up dragon which still groaned. An extremely low, grating sound rose along with the smoke.

“It’s not,” Lucy said.

“Then the rest is up to you.”

Lucy looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. She doubted herself, wondered what in the name of Talos she would even do, but Natsu knew that only the Dragonborn would kill a dragon. He wasn’t one. She had to finish it off.

Two pairs of steps approached them from behind. They were Erza, hypothermic but alive, and Gray, wounded but still standing. The warrior carried her greatsword on both hands, and handed it down to Lucy.

“Take this,” said she, unceremoniously. “Strike it through the dragon’s head.”

Hesitantly, Lucy nodded and received the sword. Her back slouched from the weight, but she quickly fixed her posture, tried to carry it with grace. Then she walked down the slope to the bottom of the pit, and Natsu followed her.

The dragon lay perfectly still, but amongst it ragged breathing, Natsu heard something which faintly resembled a merrily running stream, when the snows melted on a warm spring day. When they moved closer, he understood that the streams were blood flowing from its lungs, ending to the crimson sea beneath the enormous body. As if it sensed them coming, its wing fidgeted, but fell powerlessly back to the bloodied ground.

Natsu looked down and flinched. He was standing ankle-deep in a pool of blood. A potent hunch of iron mixed with the smell of smoke. Lucy didn’t seem to notice it. Instead, she reached the dragon and began to climb to its back, using its wing as a bridge. She almost slipped, but restored her balance, caught the small spike still intact on its spine.

While she climbed, Natsu noticed a dagger flowing among the stream of blood near the opening of its wound. It had been caught between the dragon’s ribs. He couldn’t understand how the weapon was still intact. He retrieved it without saying anything. Perhaps there was some magic woven into a blade smithed in the ancient Skyforge, even if the Companions would never admit it.

The dragon groaned more loudly when Lucy reached the back of its neck. The tone wasn’t frightened, but sad, sorrowful, like a plea to spare its life. But Lucy did not listen to its begs for mercy. She lifted the greatsword with her two hands, pointed the tip to the dragon’s skull, and then pushed it down with the whole weight of her small body.

And so, the dragon died.

The flesh and frozen scales began to dissolve around the dragon’s skeleton. Like gusts of the whirlwind, the beast’s soul left its body and began to dance around Lucy like the softest autumn mist. She dropped the greatsword from her hands, stumbled backwards from the forceful intrusion of the soul, and fell from the creature’s back. Even though Natsu had no strength left in him, he instinctively rushed forward and caught her before she’d hit the ground and drown in the pool of dragonblood.

Time seemed to slow down as he held her in his arms, like she was the most fragile, most valuable thing of existence. The swirling soul of a dragon surrounded them both. Echoes of the past aeons ringed in his mind as they passed by, and for a moment he feared he’d be absorbed too. He attempted to stay anchored in the present moment by looking Lucy into the eyes. She was staring back at him, but her gaze pierced right through – what she saw was far beyond Natsu’s comprehension.

When nothing but bones were left of the dragon, the swishing sound came to a stop. The last remnants of the soul were now sealed inside Lucy’s body. She closed her eyes and her limbs fell limp. Natsu shook her gently, but there was no response. The blood began to evaporate on the ground, enveloping them into a shroud of red mist.

Natsu didn’t dare to move an inch. He stayed still for a while which felt like an eternity. ‘It’s over,’ he kept repeating himself, glancing at the dragon’s skeleton every now and then just to be sure it was truly dead. ‘It’s over for now.’

Eventually, Lucy opened her eyes again. There was something different in her gaze, something which Natsu failed to understand yet. She stayed silent for a moment, but then she rose to her feet with surprising ease. As if she knew exactly where to look, she turned her head towards the dragon, and halted completely. Even her breathing stopped for a second.

Natsu stood up too, but almost fell instantly. He took support from his knees and waited for the dizziness to wear off, but it never really did. Lucy moved again. Her footsteps made rings on the still surface of the crimson pond as she walked inside the dragon’s skeleton. The empty ribcage formed a canopy of bones over her head.

And from there, within the remains of a dragon, Lucy found an egg.

It lay half-sunken in the pool of its mother’s steaming blood. About a side of a human head, it was covered in white scales. Suddenly, Natsu understood why the dragon had avoided close combat. It had been carrying an egg, its offspring, something more valuable than its own life. But why it hadn’t dissolved with the mother, was not known.

Lucy lifted the egg up in her arms.

Chapter Text

Her hands.

Of all the obscure, otherworldly things that weaved together the moment, Natsu noticed her hands first. Burned hands, burned by his flames, red and pink and black and blue. But as if she felt no pain at all, she caressed the scaled shell of the dragon’s egg, and held it in her arms as if it was the most valuable, most precious thing in the world. Her touch left crimson stains on the whiteness like she was painting unknown patterns with her bleeding fingertips.

And there were no words to describe the sight. Absolutely none.

In perfect silence, Natsu just observed her. As if his senses were suddenly heightened, he perceived every tiny breath she took, the movements her eyes made as she gazed at the egg, how she began to whisper words he shouldn’t know in a language he couldn’t understand. Natsu halted – not exactly, he had stood there frozen for a while already – as he realised Lucy actually spoke to the egg. Spoke, and fluently, in the ancient language of the dragons. It couldn’t be anything else than that.

Lucy pressed the egg against her chest. She leaned her chin against the shell, the same way a mother holds a newborn baby. Cold shivers ran along the fire mage’s backbone. There was, unquestionably, haunting, sorrowful beauty at the transient moment they shared, the moment he witnessed. Yet, there was so little he understood then, and later came to regret – for that very moment set in motion a series of events which eventually drove him to the brink of insanity, and Lucy far beyond.

A pair of approaching steps broke the tranquil atmosphere. Natsu glanced up. His head ached from the abrupt movement. The warrior and the frost mage now stood on the edge of the crater and began their descent to the bottom. Lucy noticed not their arrival. She seemed to be out of the world, lost somewhere in the other planes of existence. Natsu feared that if he’d look away for a moment, she’d disappear completely.

“So, you are the Dragonborn I’ve been hearing so much about,” said Gray.

Lucy turned towards them harshly. “Yes,” she answered, suddenly fully aware of her surroundings again. Her words had a different ring to them, like a foreign accent. “That’s what I am.”

Gray, humbled by the presence of a hero, bowed at her. Yet somehow, Natsu struggled to believe there wasn’t any mockery in his gesture. A part of it said ‘Needless to say, I already knew it,’ but it mattered very little right then. Gray wasn’t a threat. Annoying, yes, but still not a threat. Her identity would be safe with him.

Silence fell again as Erza and Gray realised what Lucy was holding in her arms. The air, now dimming out with the setting sun, was filled with questions no one dared to utter out loud. Natsu followed the movements of Gray’s gaze as it travelled from the egg to the bones of the dragon around her, and to the blood covering the ground. It was still steaming, ever rising skywards as a veil of red mist.

“Well, I sensed something like that was going on the moment you two laid your feet on the College ground,” Gray sighed and eyed Natsu and Lucy. “You, Lucy, never explained why Natsu would come with you on the pilgrimage to High Hrothgar. Because if it wouldn’t have been more important than fulfilling your dead mother’s old wish, he would’ve never come on such a journey.”

Natsu glared at the man. “You really should learn to keep your mouth shut when you don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Gray sneered. “If you aimed to keep her true identity as secret, then you should figure better lies. I could see right through you. I’ve known all along that she’s somehow special, because if she wasn’t, there would’ve been no way in the world you would have –“

“Silence,” Erza commanded, exhausted but stern. “That’s none of your concern now.”

Gray quieted down, but the poisonous words he tried to say still lingered on his tongue. The man had never learnt to read the mood, and burst out whatever came to his little, twisted mind. If Natsu wouldn’t have been so paralyzed by surprise and shock, he would’ve already shut his mouth with his fist. But as he stepped backwards and struggled to maintain his balance, he knew he had channelled way too much magicka into the flaming spear. There wasn’t a single crumb of magic left in him after that. Gladly, the battle was already over. In this state of magicka deficiency, he wouldn’t be any help to anyone – not even in shutting Gray up, which used to be his speciality.

Erza walked closer to the remains of the dragon. She brushed the bones with her armoured hands, as if to make sure it was truly dead. Her gaze stayed on the white, bloodstained skeleton for a while, hundreds of different emotions flowing through her eyes. From relief to resentment, from despair to triumph, she went through it all before she finally looked up at Lucy again.

“Lucy… You found this,” she swallowed the word, as it uttering it would make it real, but she meant the egg Lucy held in her arms, “inside these remains?”

Lucy nodded slowly, but her shoulders tensed. She did not want to have this conversation, not with anyone, which Natsu found strange. The person he knew her to be would be thrilled, excited about this discovery, but now she just… wasn’t. She didn’t say anything at all.

“Well, that worsens the situation. The dragons are breeding, just as we’ve feared,” Erza sighed. Her voice shivered as she shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed. “The egg must be brought to Mystogan. Examining it would prove significant progress to the research. So far, we know very little about –“

And upon those words, Lucy whole being transitioned from peaceful to defensive, close to the point of pure hostility. Natsu’s eyes widened at the abrupt swift.

“It’s mine,” she told harshly.

“Lucy –“

“It’s mine.”

There was a strange shiver in Lucy’s voice, a mix of desperation and determination. Erza opened her mouth but swallowed all of her words, just stared at Lucy in silence. Though the whole group’s eyes were on her now, she didn’t seem to care, wouldn’t budge. At that moment, Natsu knew she had, for whatever reason, decided to keep the egg. Equally, he knew it would be a terrible, terrible idea.

Invisible, cold chains squeezed his insides as the seconds dragged on. Something was wrong. Natsu thought back, thought at the moment he had held her, watched how the aeons of the dragon’s life passed into her, exiled deep into the darkest corners of her mind. She had slain an immortal dragon, absorbed its soul, but shattered something about herself in the process. Of course, it would have consequences, just like the last time.

Could it be that the dragon had somehow managed to remain sentient after its death, and now it was using Lucy’s body as a puppet for defending its egg?

Natsu began to shiver as he realised how perfect sense it made.

If dragons were immortal, eternal, how could they even be killed? The Dragonborn was the only one who could permanently kill a dragon by absorbing its soul, but at that moment, Natsu understood Lucy had only sealed it. The souls did not dissolve, they merged into her own, and so the dragons remained immortal.

The frost dragon was still alive inside of her soul, and the battle was far from being over.

Natsu knew not how long it had been since one of them last spoke. A few minutes or an hour? The sense of time slipped through his fingers like ashes. Lucy stood within the canopy of the dragon’s bones, ever holding onto the egg like it was her own. And in a certain way, it was now.

Gray, clearly not understanding the grave weight of the situation, couldn’t stay silent furthermore.

“Taking the egg to some scholar, you say? Are you out of your mind?” Gray asked, harsh and ruthless. The man was as blunt as an unhoned sword. “There’s only one thing to do. That egg must be destroyed. Immediately.”

Natsu flinched.

Keeping her glare fiercely locked in Gray, Lucy wrapped her arms tighter around the egg and shielded it with her body. In that instant, the aura around her became so hateful, enraged, as a final warning for everyone to back off.

“No,” she answered, her voice merely a growl.

Gray, like a fool he was, wasn’t so easily intimidated by her. If Natsu was him, he would’ve already run to High Rock or beyond, just as far and as fast as he ever could. Lucy, in that state, wasn’t someone to mess with.

“Do you even realise what that is?” the frost mage retorted. “It’s a dragon’s egg. A dragon’s. One of those fucking flying lizards that just tried to kill us all. Taking that thing to the court for some research would be foolish. Who knows when it would hatch and slaughter everyone?”

Natsu, nervously biting his lower lip, pressed his hands into fists. Lucy wouldn’t bring the egg to the scholar, but she wouldn’t let it be destroyed – and she couldn’t be allowed to keep it either, for the very same reason Gray just told. If Natsu had ever been in a situation where every possible option was just as perfectly shitty, this was it.

The warrior glanced at Gray, nodding. “You have a point,” she agreed. “It could be dangerous, but…”

“That’s right,” Gray answered, just as harsh and heartless as before. “Lucy, give the egg to me.”

And it just kept getting shittier.

“No.”

“Listen to me. Give it here. I’ll destroy it, and it’s going to be over with. We have to move on. The night is falling, and we can’t stay here forever avoiding the inevitable. You know it has to be done.”

The ire in Lucy’s glare grew ever more murderous, and Natsu knew he had to interfere.

“Shut it up, Gray,” Natsu hissed, his voice dry and worn out. He had barely any strength left to talk. “You can’t do that. Give her a damn moment to figure out what to do.”

Gray cast him a long stare.

“What are you gonna do then, huh? Wait for it to hatch, and then raise the fucking serpent’s spawn as if you were its mama and papa?” Gray spat to the ground. “And let it eat you as a snack as soon as it first opens its mouth.”

Natsu failed to say anything back, as much as he hated it. That was, most likely, what would happen if they kept the egg. They were only human, and that thing was a dragon. A serpent’s spawn, as Gray called it, a hatchling of the race that sought to end all humanity and destroy the world.

“The egg has to be destroyed, and you both know it. If not, you’re more foolish than I ever thought,” Gray sighed. He was growing frustrated and more aggressive in his pursuit of obtaining the egg from Lucy, and it would not end well. “I don’t want to harm you, but I’ll have to take it from you if you won’t give it willingly.”

“No!”

Natsu moved closer to her, driven by instinct as the tension in the air kept growing. His heart raced within his chest, like sensing an approaching escalation that would, in the worst case, end in casualties. Right now, Lucy was unpredictable. She had never been like that before, but now she was, and it scared him. For the first time, he was truly scared of her.

“One last time. Give it to me, Lucy, or I’ll take it by force.”

Then, as if an invisible thread had just snapped apart, the tension was severed.

Lucy bolted forwards, fast like a panicked animal as she tried to escape the cage of the dragon’s skeleton. Natsu stood near its skull, and she sprinted to him first, like knowing he’d protect her, but then suddenly turned around.

“Seize her!” shouted Erza.

For a reason Natsu couldn’t understand, and which he later blamed himself to death with, he obeyed. Perhaps at that moment, he had thought the same thing as them, that resisting the inevitable would only bring her more pain. Before she ran away, he caught her from the belt around her waist, and the sudden stop bent her forward. The egg slipped out from her bloody hands, rolled on the ground, and Gray picked it up. Lucy began to scream.

“Bring me your sword,” Gray asked from the warrior. She nodded to him and walked past Lucy, and picked her bloodied greatsword from the ground. She carried it back to the frost mage, who received it without a single emotion flashing on his stone-cold face.

Kicking and screaming, Lucy kept writhing in Natsu’s hold. She tried to break free with all of her strength and might, but was only thrown down from the strength of her vain struggle. When did she get this strong? Natsu thought as he wrapped his right arm around her neck and shoulders, while his left held her hands behind her back. With his knee, he pressed her down to the ground. He shivered as he remembered it was exactly the same way the Imperial soldiers had held him down while they forced him to watch Igneel die.

As Gray lifted the greatsword, Natsu realised he didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to force her to watch it, but he was frozen, for a brief while brought back to Helgen, and all he could see was the blood –

Gray struck the egg once. A sickening sound of steel clinking of ice was drowned under Lucy’s desperate scream. A deep crack appeared on the shell, and Gray struck it again.

And suddenly, the sight brought back a memory from his childhood, one Natsu had thought to have forgotten long ago.

When he had been little, he had helped his mother cook fried eggs. When he had cracked one egg on the iron pan, an embryo of a chicken was revealed from the inside. It had fallen on the hot pan, began to sizzle, and he had just watched in horror as his mother had taken it away with a spatula and thrown it outside for the dogs. But the vision of the undeveloped chick cooking on the pan on its own slime had stayed with him, and he had never wanted to eat fried eggs again.

This time, an embryo of a dragon was revealed within the broken egg.

Perhaps the size of a human newborn, the dragon had its tail rolled around it. It had no scales, only flesh, transparent pale skin, no horns, no spikes, no nothing. Unfinished, raw, not ready. Murky fluid flowed among the pieces of its shell. Natsu thought it was dead, but suddenly, it twitched. It began to unfold its wings, stretch its tail, and tweet. Tweet like a little hatchling of a bird, searching for its mother. It turned its blind eyes to Lucy, and her scream twisted into a heartbreaking wail. Natsu struggled to keep her still while he almost broke into tears, too.

“By the gods,” Gray cursed as he stared at the abomination of a dragon. Its attempts to crawl forward failed as it collapsed to the ground, its hopeless twitching becoming even more depressing. “It’s still alive?”

Gray swung the greatsword again.

The sharp steel cut the dragon fledgling in half. It jerked before stilling down, drowned in its blood as it pulsated out of it with the rhythm of its weak heart. Natsu’s vision whitened and his ears were ringing as Lucy’s endless scream reverberated in the air, deafening, soul-shattering, twisting into something alien which wasn’t even her voice anymore.

Slowly, the tiny dragon died. The look on Gray’s face was almost amused, proud, like he was a great hero instead of a monster. Natsu stared at him, hoping he could murder him with his glare only. The egg hadn’t been ready to be laid, and the dragon hadn’t been ready to hatch, yet it still had been forcefully pulled into the world, only to die through an agonizing death. No matter what the rest of the world’s dragons had done, this one was innocent of the crimes of its race.

Lucy’s wriggling ceased down. Without any strength, she hung her head down and cried. Sobs shook her small frame as the fire mage kept on holding her still. He could feel her pain, and dared not to let her go. Dazed, he watched how the dragon fledgling dissolved into a cloud of mist. It began to climb up towards the distant skies, maybe fade somewhere into Aetherius.

It dawned then that the souls of the dragons who weren’t slain by the Dragonborn went back to Akatosh, their divine creator. But from there, Alduin could draw them back and bring them back to life. As the smallest of all dragon souls joined its ancestors on the other side of existence, Natsu fell lost in his thoughts, profoundly frightened of what would happen if this soul would ever return.

Then there was pain.

Sharp, tearing pain pierced the back of Natsu’s right hand, the one he held below Lucy’s chin. Her cries were suddenly muffled. The pain bit deeper, tore through his skin until blood burst from his veins. He tried to pull his hand away, but it was locked tight between Lucy’s teeth as she bit onto his hand with an inhumane strength.

“Shit!” he cried out. “Damn it Lucy, what the –“

Insanely fast, Lucy turned her face towards him. Natsu’s heart stopped racing, nearly stopping completely at the sight.

Lucy’s eyes were blue. Icy blue, irises slit like a serpent’s, and filled with ancient, apoplectic fury. Tears rolled down on her cheeks, past the frozen scales formed on her skin, and mixed with the blood on her lips. His blood, all over her chin and mouth and –

Lucy bolted free of the hold he had unintentionally loosened. He stumbled down as Lucy charged forwards, straight at Erza and Gray, but for a moment Natsu couldn’t see anything else than the back of his hand. The pain came and went in waves as he struggled to understand what had happened. Lucy had bitten him. It couldn’t be true, then it was, then suddenly wasn’t anymore.

Natsu pressed the wound with his left hand. Blood seeped between his fingers and dripped to the ground. He raised his head towards the screams he heard, but his vision was blurred, his eyes blinded. The air around him grew cold from another snowstorm, a swirl of snow and frost which had Lucy’s scent mixed into it.

He forced aside the clouds of shock in his mind, forced himself to see.

A snowstorm raged around Lucy as Erza held her tight on the shoulders. She was facing Gray with the same feral fury she had just confused him with. Gray stood slightly back as Lucy tried to claw out his throat, as if he was preparing a spell. Faint, green light took place around his fingers as he drew a sigil in the air and launched it at her.

What was he doing to Lucy?

The longer the thought lingered in Natsu’s mind, the clearer it became that this wasn’t Lucy anymore. Her hands, which just a moment ago had been burned, were now covered in snow-white scales, and layers of ice had altered her nails into razor-sharp talons. But when Gray’s spell struck her, she fell quiet. Green light enveloped her and calmed down her ferocious writhing. She fell limp and stared blankly at the frost mage.

“What did you do?” Erza asked, and loosened her hold a bit.

“Used a simple Calm spell. It should… well, calm her down, but I’m not sure, since I don’t get what’s wrong with –“

His sentence was cut when the light wore off and Lucy charged at him again. She slashed at his face, aimed for his eyes, like her very essence aimed to eliminate him out of existence with her bare hands. Gray’s calming spell had absolutely no use – she was too strong for it. No, the dragon was. Natsu had to remind himself that even though she looked just like Lucy, or almost, it wasn’t her.

He should’ve realised it already. After killing Sahklonir, she had started to change. She had never told him what exactly happened to her psyche after that, but Natsu had still seen the changes. Not so prominently as now, but she’d grown… arrogant, which she hadn’t been before. Spellcasting had become easier for her due to the increased amount of magicka. Foolishly, he had always thought she was just exceptionally talented as a Dragonborn, but it wasn’t so. It was the soul of the slain dragon which fed her power.

Gray cast a hasty ward to protect himself from Lucy’s attack. She tore through it like his magic was nothing but old fabric. Screaming in the old language of the dragons, she forced the frost mage to fall far back, and right there Natsu remembered what Arngeir had once told him in the old belltower of High Hrothgar. It felt like an eternity ago now.

‘Arrogance is the frailty of the Dragonkind, and it’s the curse of those with the Dragonblood as well. As she’s soon ready for her last trial, I’d personally like to task you with a request. Growing her gift too quickly could be dangerous. The power of the Voice was misused in the past, as it had been misused just recently. I hope you can remind her of the true purpose of her gift if she ever forgets it. That’s all I ask of you.’

For every dragon she’d slay, her powers would increase, and the more her mind would suffer. This time, it wasn’t only about that, but far worse. Sahklonir hadn’t been as strong, and definitely hadn’t watched its offspring killed in front of its very damn eyes. The frost dragon was on a killing spree after losing its child, using Lucy’s body as a mere marionette, and wouldn’t stop until all of them would be dead.

And that wouldn’t be the true purpose of her gift.

Gray fought back another snowstorm Lucy launched at his way. She spoke the words of power, the same ones the dragons had used, and unleashed a chilling cry from her throat. Gray leapt to the ground and crawled away from the direct hit – he, too, was out of power. Erza tried to catch her, but she was too fast, too strong for her to capture.

“Bolog aaz arkh dir, mal lir!”

She’d truly kill them all, and maybe that’s what her words meant. What would happen to her, then? Would the dragon eventually subside to the back of her mind, would she regain control, wake up alone, and then find all of her companions killed by her own hands? That would break her. Break her completely.

Natsu grit his teeth. There was no spell he could use on her to calm her down – such things didn’t work on a dragon. Even if there was, he couldn’t use it now. He had perfectly depleted his magicka, but maybe he could resolve this without magic, force, or violence.

‘But what’s the word of an old man against the word of a friend? You, the one who walks beside her, can guide her back to the light if she ever strays from the path of wisdom.’

Maybe he just had to trust in Arngeir’s judgement upon the task he had given him.

“Lucy!” Natsu shouted. She turned towards him. Good. She still reacted to her name. “It’s alright. Calm down. Let’s… Let’s talk this through.”

She listened, and he went on. Was it working?

“Trust me, I have no idea what you’re going through at this moment, but please, try to calm down. No need to hurt anyone. We’re friends, right?”

The last word echoed hollowly in his head. Right?

Lucy remained still, like she did not fully understand what he had said. When she stared at him, her eyes flickered with different emotions as her consciousness shifted back and forth. Warmth, rage, fear, fury. A hint of Lucy appeared and then vanished again, confirming Natsu’s worst fears. The dragon she had slain was strong enough to shred through her mind and steal control over her body, all for the sake of protecting its offspring. Even for dragons, the bond between mother and child was strong enough to cross the bridges between life and death.

It terrified him to think how far it would go, and what it would be ready to do.

Anything, said a little voice in the back of his mind.

“Faaz! Paak! Dinok!” she spat out in a low octave. Natsu understood not the meaning of her words, but felt how they were filled with fury and bloodlust. Her icy eyes blazed as if he was the sole source of the overflowing hatred within her.

And in fact, he was. He had been the one who brought the frost dragon down from the skies.

Natsu swallowed in fear, stuttered, “… Lucy?”

“Unslaad krosis!”

The next thing Natsu understood was that he’d fallen hard on his back, his lungs emptied from all air. His head slammed against the stone underneath. Everything was black, he was drifting out, but fought to stay conscious. Something had trapped him with overwhelming strength, and suddenly his blood began to freeze. He forced his eyes open.

And as Lucy’s ice-cold eyes stared right back at him, the only thought in his mind was ‘She’s going to kill me.’

She had him pinned to the ground with the weight of her body. Holding him close, she enveloped them both into a swirling ice storm, one of which had to be Blizzard. It was different from the dragon’s frost breath, for this was a human spell, yet somehow reigned by the dragon. Natsu’s limbs began to paralyze from the frigid cold, he felt his heartbeat slowing down, weary like he was just surrendering into a very sweet sleep he’d never wake up from.

The whirlwind raged around them, but Natsu couldn’t hear it anymore. It was all getting very quiet as he began to slip away again, slip into something warm and bright and deathly. He tried to say something, maybe utter goodbyes, but all the words disappeared from his mind. He couldn’t do anything else than look at her. Tears formed in Lucy’s eyes, fell down as frozen diamonds, and shattered in the strength of the wind. She was there, she was aware, yet could not do anything to stop it. All she could do was to watch herself kill him.

And as frost gilded her features, Natsu remembered that this spell was dangerous for the caster too.

From what he had heard, from what he could faintly recall through his clouded mind, Blizzard was an incredibly powerful spell, elemental magic lost to the ages. Only the most skilled mages could master it, but she still used it now – no, the wise and wicked, cunning and cruel frost dragon forced her to use it. It channelled its ancient knowledge through her, drained her lifeforce and transmuted it into magicka. Her body would not take it much longer, nor would her mind. Soon enough, she’d be completely shattered, no more than dust in the wind.

Together, they had killed the dragon, and now it would take them both down at once.

And perhaps then, once Lucy would be dead, the dragon’s soul could return to Aetherius and join its unborn offspring there, amend this abhorrence of separating mother from her child.

The storming winds lulled him into a deep trance as he felt his powers weakening. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t fight back. She was too strong. He had expected his death to be different, always thought he wouldn’t die until he would’ve fulfilled something, followed the red thread of fate to the end. But now, he’d be forever bound in eternal ice with Lucy, their fates unfinished, undone, a sad epitome to how fragile life was. All the signs had been so bright that he had gone blind to one detail. There was no divine protection, no insane luck. One mistake could end it all.

He descended deeper into the darkness, into the unknown plane between dream and reality. A strange light from ahead called for him. ‘Join us eternally,’ they said, the stars on the night sky, but there was no solace in their call, just loneliness. He wanted not to follow them, but the light pulled him from the dark, lured like a moth to a flame, and he knew the only way to fight it was to shine brighter than the stars of the afterlife.

Depleted of all magicka, Natsu still tried to summon a flame. Nothing happened. He tried again, and nothing. One of the last primitive thoughts was that the only way to fight against this frozen, immense sorcery was fire. Fire, as it was his element, had always been, yet there was nothing left on him to set ablaze. No magicka, no emotion, nothing but his mortal cord which would soon be reduced to particles of frost.  

‘Help me.’

And somewhere between the whirls of the winter wind, he heard her voice. Merely a whisper, the silent plea echoed amongst the stars above him, or perhaps it was inside of his head? He wasn’t sure.

‘I can’t,’  he answered, and did not know if she could hear. ‘I’ve tried, I have nothing left to fight with.’

‘You have.’

As if he had dropped from a great high, he was flinched awake, and the darkness was gone. Death passed by, or just stepped aside to wait for a while, to watch and laugh at this desperate effort to abide it. Lucy reached for the dagger secured on his belt. She took the blade from its sheath and placed it into his hold, the tip pointing at her heart. Her eyes pleaded for mercy.

‘Lucy?’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘…Lucy!’

With every last ounce of strength he had, Natsu forced his frozen hand to tilt the dagger away, right on time. Suddenly, Blizzard was dispelled. Lucy collapsed on him lifelessly, as if her every bone had been cracked at the same time, but she was still breathing. Natsu, on the other hand, wasn’t. He stayed perfectly still, ever frozen, unable to even breathe. He just stared up to the skies above them. The stars he had just seen had dissolved into the evening dusk.

Slowly, the storm passed, and the temperature soared. The frost melted from his skin, allowing him to move, but the only thing he was able to do was to wrap his arms around Lucy. She felt so incredibly small in his arms after the tremendous power she had just unleashed. As tears welled up in his eyes, he leaned his head against Lucy’s and squeezed her tighter.

‘It’s okay now.’

There was no response.

Even after the danger was gone, death still seemed to lurk around the corners like a lingering shade. Perhaps a part of him had died, and nothing would ever be the same. Time floated onwards, slow and fast at the same time, twisted, and he couldn’t know how long he had embraced her. Too long, maybe. He loosened his hold, opened his eyes, and saw a figure standing near them.

“The ultimate calm spell: the back of my hand,” said Erza’s voice. “Are you alright?”

It seemed that the warrior had managed to break through Lucy’s spell and knock her out with nothing else than physical force. Severing all connections between her mind and body was the only way to stop her, but Natsu hoped there wasn’t any more damage besides concussion. And if she wouldn’t be back to normal once she’d wake up, he didn’t know what he’d do. He felt so fucking numb.  

They had just almost died, and he had almost let it happen.

Erza didn’t wait for him to answer her question. She grabbed Lucy from the waist and pulled her unconscious body off from his, then placed her on the ground to lie on her side. Finally, he dared to take one ragged breath.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he lied and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I guess.”

Then, upon a common, silent agreement, they left the scene behind after Natsu had recovered enough to walk. He had forced himself to stand, even though he felt like fainting, while Erza carried Lucy in her arms. They wrapped her into a warm fur cloak and searched for a shelter, without ever daring to speak about what had just happened. They would, but the time wasn’t yet.

As the battle had exhausted them all, worn them out both mentally and physically, they decided to stay within the ruins for the night. Just by nightfall, they reached the centre of a city and an old gathering hall with just enough shelter from the winds and the cold. Using Erza’s tools, they built a fire and sat around it, still not uttering a single word.

Replenishing himself on the flames, healing his wounds, Natsu fell deep into his thoughts. He had once wondered if he could keep carrying the torch Igneel had lit, as it had now passed down to him. Igneel had been the one who guided him back to the light when he had strayed into the dark, but could he ever do the same? This time, he had failed. Failed miserably.

He stayed by Lucy’s side as she stirred in her restless sleep. The frozen scales had melted away from her cheeks, the talons of ice were now gone, but she still sobbed. She sobbed, just as endlessly as she had when they had escaped the smouldering ruins of Helgen and sat together in the cold, damp forest floor, lost and broken. But back then, there had still been hope. A distant light, a dream for a better future, a new life built on the ashes of the old one.

How he hoped he would’ve known then that the nightmare had only begun.

Long after the warrior and the frost mage had fallen asleep on the other side of the fire, Natsu was still awake. In the faint flicker of the dying flames, he gazed at the back of his right hand. Dried blood adorned the skin around the bitemark which would certainly leave a scar. Oh, how ironic he found his talk about wearing scars as badges of honour now. This one he’d wear forever as a reminder of not being strong enough. This day, he might have brought down a dragon from the skies, but what was it even worth of when he couldn’t keep Lucy safe from herself?

And somehow, he knew the night had now fallen, and it had fallen on them both.

Chapter Text

White snow fell from the starlit skies.

It rained down like frozen tears and landed softly on Lucy’s fair hair. She knew not how long she had stood there in the old ruins of Labyrinthian, alone, gazing into the distant stars. But while she did, the cracks in the stones healed, the collapsed towers reformed, the monuments gnawed by the tooth of time renewed back to their former glory. An entire city emerged from the ruins as time flew backwards. Aeons of time disappeared, century upon century until she found herself in the heart of the Dragon War, thousands of years back.

As a ghost, her soul lingered among the busy, dark streets. It was night, as it had been endlessly. The place was not known as Labyrinthian, not yet. The brave city of Bromjunaar it was now, hailed by all, forever these walls should stand. Dragons, dozens of them, flew over the homes and temples built in their honour. The citizens, men and women and children, were not afraid, but not a hint of joy sparked on their faces. Masked priests with their great staffs gathered in a hall in the centre of the city. Lucy, driven by her curiosity, followed them.

A rebellion was rising among the men. Alduin’s ever-growing cruelty was being opposed, attempted to overthrow, yet the effort was vain. Alduin was eternal. He could not be defeated. Humanity could only survive through this covenant the priests had made with the dragons. In return for complete, absolute obedience, the dragons granted the priests terrible power, and so an everlasting peace could be formed and maintained. But as Lucy bore witness to the hopeless apathy on the faces of the citizens, reduced to mere subjects, she knew the price of the treaty was too high.

But then, the skies came falling down, as if the stars themselves had collapsed down to earth.

In her spectral form, Lucy watched as the walls crumbled when the war waged, as the entire civilization was brought on its knees when the bells tolled for Alduin’s defeat. The heroes of the old, the strongest of the Nords fought and prevailed, and so one by one, the dragons were brought down from the skies with spears and arrows and sorcery of which the present world never even dreamt to acquire.

Those who had worshipped the dragons as gods, the dragon priests and their followers, were now killed, overthrown, and forced into hiding. The last remaining cultist entombed the remains of the fallen dragons, sealed them deep into their burial mounds with the belief that Alduin would return, as it had been foretold, and resurrect those who had been faithful. Thousands of years might pass, but it was bound to happen, for the Elder Scrolls had told it true.

And again, a glimpse of them surfaced in Lucy’s consciousness. The Elder Scrolls. Reflections of all possible pasts and all possible futures, artifacts from outside the time, fragments of creation. Then, they vanished again when Lucy sifted onwards in the darkness around her. The world was now gone, past and future merged into one.

In a strange dome full of nothing, she found a white dragon.

The darkness nearly shattered when the dragon landed in front of her and screeched, screeched as loud as it ever could. There were no words, only fury. Fury and grief. The white, frozen scales were stained in blood. Its chest was opened, its lungs ripped apart, and it was dead. Yet it still moved, for it lacked something which was bound to its being with a bond stronger than anything in the world.

“Who are you?”

Lucy’s question echoed endlessly in the nothingness.

“Krosulhah.”

And the answer echoed all the same.

Suddenly, among the fading echoes, visions weaved into her mind. They emerged from the darkness, black threads of memory, images Lucy had forgotten, but always known. And where they seeped through her spectral skull, her nerves lit in overwhelming pain. She fought back a scream, for she would not show weakness in front of the dragon.

It was supposed to be dead.

She had thrust the Skyforged greatsword through its skull, and yet here it was, inside this dream-like sphere of darkness, most likely her own soul. It wrecked apart the defences of her mind. At that moment, as the dragon threw its body against the edges of the darkness, Lucy understood it was trying to get out. It tried to regain control, break free, roam through the endless skies once again.

She had never killed the dragon.

She had only trapped it, and now it sought to be released.

“You shall stay here forever, no matter what you try, Krosulhah. I’ve slain you, you are a part of me now, and I’m not going to be shattered by you.”

An enraged screech filled the darkness, almost making her falter. But she stood her ground against the dragon’s crushing will. She had no choice, or she’d be lost in the darkness forever.

The dragon spoke to her again. Its mouth did not move, but Lucy heard its words within her.  “You, Dragonborn, are not the first of your kind. Not at all. I’ve seen your kind come and go, vanish among the pages of time, and yet none of you has truly prevailed against a dragon. Your mortal soul shall be corrupted, devastated upon my will!”

“You’ve but mistaken. I have only the body of a mortal, but my soul is the same with you. I know your loss. I feel it in my heart, but I won’t let it corrupt me. I’m going to defeat Alduin and fulfil my destiny as a Dragonborn, and you cannot stop me”

“Oh, you all do. You all corrupt in the end. There was but one… much of what’s known of him is lost to the ages.” The dragon moved closer to her, and she did not back down. “One of the Dragonblood, the first of your kind. He served the dragons, was a priest in their order, esteemed, powerful. Then he turned against us. Perhaps, he could’ve once defeated Alduin… but he still chose otherwise. That is what our power does to you. They say arrogance is the frailty of the Dragonkind… and always fail to add that greed is the frailty of the mortals.”

Silence fell to the darkness. Lucy stared the dragon straight into its icy blue eyes, as if trying to learn more, but she couldn’t reach any deeper. The curiosity burned her mind, but there were no answers upon her grasp.

“You shall see, mortal,” the dragon said and unfolded its tattered wings, “that Alduin is eternal. He cannot be defeated. You and your companions might bring down all the others, but Alduin is nothing like us. He is a god. He will always return. Even if you would defeat him, like the old Tongues did, he would still return. This is what the Scrolls have foretold!”

The dragon knew. It had been there that day, when the bells tolled for Alduin’s defeat, knew about the heroes who had killed him – could it know the means they had used to defeat him, too? Lucy reached out her hands, touched those ancient eyes, tried to see through them. Everything she had been looking for was right there.

“Hear me now, Dragonborn, hear me and despair. Upon your death, you, and the souls of the slain dragons you bear within you, shall return to Aetherius. That’s as far as this miserable, humiliating bond can tame us. Upon your death, we shall be divided, and we shall be awakened by Alduin. Because he is the firstborn of Akatosh, the Twilight God, the World-Eater, the bringer of the apocalypse! Resisting this, delaying the creation of a new Kalpa, is in vain. Such is his destiny, to destroy this world, this time, so a new one could begin. As it has happened before, it shall happen again, and you cannot stop it.”

Lucy was thrown back by a sudden wave of pressure the dragon released. Unrelenting Force, she knew, a desperate measure to keep her out of the treasure of knowledge. She rose again. 

“No. I’m not going to let this world end. Humanity shall see another day, for a thousand of years to come – and be Alduin reborn all the same, he will be killed again. As you said yourself, my kind will come and go. When I’m no longer in this world, someone else will take my place as the one fated to destroy Alduin, to keep evil forever at bay. An endless cycle it might be, call it human greed if you want, but it’s the greed for life! I fight for the future of mankind!”

“You still do not understand. There will be no one else. You, Dragonborn, are the last of your kind. The last one that’ll ever be. Your line of blood will end with you. This is fated, this is known.”

The eyes of ice landed on her, the truth in them as precise as it was frightening. Lucy fought not to fall into despair, even as the words ringed on in her mind, forever, until she couldn’t deny them anymore.

“And how can you know it for sure?” she asked then. “If you claim to know my fate, then reveal it to me.”

The dragon didn’t say anything for a while.

“That I cannot do. I can only reveal to you so much you are capable of understanding. The knowledge of a dragon is already within you – what you are seeing now is what you are capable of learning. Forcing yourself to understand this knowledge will break you. Thus far, I’ll warn you. But what you decide, is yours to peril.”

“As I said, I won’t be broken. Show me. Show me my fate.”

The ice-cold eyes of the dragon stared right into her. She was searching for a way to defeat Alduin, and now she knew she’d find the answer within her, now. This dragon, Krosulhah, and her knowledge had merged into her soul, and among these shards, she’d find the key.

“If you insist. But, before you’ll dwell into the knowledge I hold, you’ll have to pass through my pain. If you survive through my death, then you might just be strong enough to witness my life.”

Lucy stood bravely in front of the dragon. It roared, then bent forward, and swallowed Lucy into its mouth as the echoes reverberated inside of her mind.

Pain tore through her body as everything went dark again. The dragon’s teeth pierced through her, shredded her apart, then she fell, fell endlessly into the bottomless pit of the forbidden knowledge. She recalled the feeling. Visions began to flash in the edges of her consciousness, becoming ever clearer the deeper she descended.

Flashes of forgotten times, aeons of endless dark, rebirth. Alduin’s wings covering the sun as Krosulhah emerged from its grave… and what happened next, broke a deep crack in Lucy’s consciousness. The pain of the unthinkable, unbearable, overwhelmed her whole essence, yet she was still forced to consider it as a gift.

The visions passed on, yet an iron chain was squeezing her apart. She drowned in the frigid stream of memories, drifted through the skies as a dragon, until finally came the fateful, last day. Warriors and mages amongst the stone ruins, and this fledging of a Dragonblood, almost an abomination to the glory of the trueborn dragons. And as a loyal servant of the Lord, Krosulhah would exterminate them, but protect Alduin’s gift at the same time.

And again, Lucy witnessed the battle through the dragon’s eyes. Spears of ice pierced through her scales, flames burned her skin, arrows tore apart her tongue, but the mortals were losing. The defeat of the Dragonborn was right at the grasp of her talons… and then came the strike of Skyforged steel. Unexpected, unprepared, it lunged from the dark nothingness and cut apart her tail, robbed her of balance. And as if Lucy’s own legs were cut off by the very same sword, she screamed.

Pain blacked her eyes. The ruins of Labyrinthian faded when she escaped to gather her strength. Lucy felt her soul flickering, she was being pulled out of the vision, but she persisted. She fought through the pain, but when she was finally able to see again, she plunged into immeasurable regret. Horror filled her heart as she soared over the snow-covered plaza, where a certain fire wizard stood.

As flames surrounded him, Lucy began to panic. She remembered how she had watched Natsu disappear into the ocean of the very same flames, how for the first time she had been terrified of his power, and now she’d witness it all again. From the skies, she now watched straight into those blazing green eyes, so beautiful yet dangerous, now absent of all fear, wanted to scream his name and tell him to stop, but he wouldn’t hear. Her hands still burned from where she had touched him, minutes after he had cast that spell. She couldn’t even imagine how badly the dragon had been hurt… but she wouldn’t have to imagine for long.

A flaming spear appeared in the mage’s hand. It collected all the rage and fury a human heart could bear, transmuted them into fire, but it wasn’t enough. He was drawing the flames directly from Oblivion, as if he was a demon himself, and then the weapon was ready. He sprinted forwards, gathered power for the launch, and then he released.

A sharp pain pierced a hole into her chest, brief and slight enough for her to recognize before everything exploded. Her lungs burst up in an inferno hot enough to incinerate everything, the skies and the seas and the mountains and the stars. She screamed as she was cremated alive, withering to ashes in the pyre of her own body. Yet, through the extreme pain, there was one thought that surfaced in her mind. Something he had once said, that she now remembered from word to word.

‘I like to think that… that fire is a merciful way to die.’

No, it was not.

‘There’s no blood, and the shock kills you fast.’

Lucy felt all of her lifeblood swooshing out of the gaping wound in her chest the explosions had left behind, felt it raining to the ground, heard it pattering on ice like rain drums the windowpane.

‘It hurts a lot for a short while, but then you just fall into a warm sleep.’

Like a fist of a god, the pain wrapped her into an inescapable grasp as the fire seared her. There was no end to it, no maximum apex, it just grew eternally, exponentially, until she lost herself completely to the pain and there was nothing else in her world. 

‘The hotter the flames, the cleaner the death.’

And she collapsed to the ground, dropped from the skies like a burning star, and was still alive, bound to an agonizing, slow death.

Then she just screamed.

‘Lucy?’

She heard his voice again, not as a memory, but dared not to answer. She couldn’t. She knew what would happen next, she remembered everything, and already knew she could not get through that. This had been too much. She knew she’d break, shatter into a million shards, and she hadn’t even died yet.

‘Hey, Lucy, wake up.’

She gasped for air, but only flames poured down from her mouth. Fire and blood. It seeped through her every cell, vaporized towards the starlit skies.

‘Come on, Lucy, wake up now. It’s getting kinda scary. Wake up!’

Then she was being pulled out of the nightmare, but the nightmare pulled her back, refusing to let her go. She had chosen this, and would be forced to carry it to the end, but –

“Lucy? Lucy!”

Lucy opened her eyes.

Her entire body was still on fire, paralyzed by the flames licking her skin. Her breathing ragged, tears poured down from her eyes, and her limbs trembled like fallen leaves. The insane pain persisted, lingered on her every nerve for a moment before finally starting to fade. But she did not fall into a warm sleep, as he had promised. It had all been a lie. A lie he told himself to abide the terrors of burning someone alive.

“Thank Kynareth you’re okay,” Natsu said quietly. Lucy heard his voice, but saw not his face. When he uttered the names of the Divines, it meant things were bad. “Well, relatively. Back to normal, at least…”

Gradually, his features formed from the mist of her vision. He was sitting right beside her, carefully observing her as she awakened. She tried to speak, but words refused to come. She was lying down on the rocky ground, covered with a thick, warm fur cloak. It was dark, but a dying campfire lightened the place. The sight of the flames made her flinch.

Natsu rose up, left her side for a moment, and returned with three bottles. He opened the red one first. “Here, drink this,” he urged and placed it on her lips. “I bet you’re not feeling too good, but these should help.”

She drank. The liquid tasted of blue mountain flowers and crushed butterfly wings. When she had downed the bottle, Natsu opened a blue one, and made her drank it too. After that, he gave her a green one. She felt slightly better, but the potions would take some time to work fully. They had found them in the bandit camp, and somehow known they’d be useful sooner or later.

“Thank you,” she managed to utter, quiet and weak, before wiping her eyes to her sleeves. She glanced at her hands, which had been frostbitten, burned, then frozen again, but surprisingly, there was no perceivable damage. The skin on her fingers felt tight and dry, recently healed. Her gaze moved from her hands to the mage, wondering if he had healed her or not. She didn’t dare to ask him.

Natsu didn’t reply to her thanks. He sat down again, and only then she noticed how tired he looked. Exhausted beyond any measure. It wasn’t hard to guess he hadn’t slept at all. Considering how much magicka he had overpoured into the terrifying spell with which he had brought a dragon down from the skies, his soul was in dire need of rest. Yet something had kept him awake the whole night long.

As Lucy looked at him, she struggled to believe it had really been him who she had seen through the dragon’s memory. When she had witnessed that moment as herself, it had been frightening, but to be incinerated by his flames… There were no words to describe how she felt. Utter awe mixed with terror and disbelief. ‘A boy too pretty to be a killer,’ had said the last person he had killed. It was an understatement. He was an inferno turned to flesh.

And he had done all that just to protect her.

“Well,” he started after a while, and hesitated. “How much do you remember?”

Lucy glanced at him, but he didn’t look back. His gaze was fixed on the dying flames, as if in search of any comfort. A reflection of the fire danced in his eyes.

“Everything,” Lucy answered.

Then he finally looked at her.

“Everything?”

A dull pain shot through the back of her head when she tried to nod. She rubbed her neck and squeezed shut her eyes, waited for the pain to bypass. When it faded out, she looked at him again. Unless he would see the truth in her eyes, he wouldn’t believe it. “Yes. I… I remember everything that happened. The memories are a bit… scattered, and I’m not sure if all of them are real.”

Natsu didn’t say anything. Perhaps he had expected, hoped for her to have lost her memories again, so that he could leave some things unsaid. It had been bad. Since she had absorbed the dragon’s soul, everything had gone straight into Oblivion. From there, her memory had fragmented and blended with the memories of the dragon, like she had two reminiscences of the very same events, from two different perspectives.

The mage pulled his legs close to his chest, placed his hands on his knees and leaned his chin to them. Then Lucy saw the blood. It had turned dark and dry, stained his thin fingers, encrusted on the back of his right hand. She stared at his wound until her memory cleared, strengthened, became so vivid she could recall the taste of his blood in her mouth. This had been real.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice full of shame. “About that.”

He shrugged and smiled faintly. Lucy wasn’t sure if it was sincere. “It’s nothing, really.”

It wasn’t just nothing, she thought, but couldn’t say it. The dying squeal of the newborn dragon consumed her mind once again. It had been too much. At that moment, she had lost all control, became something she wasn’t, something between a dragon and a mortal, only driven by feral instincts.

She pressed her mouth into a thin line and tried to cast the disturbing scene away. “No. Don’t say that. I… I’m just so sorry. For hurting you in that… in that state. I tried to fight it, but when the little dragon died, I just no longer –“

“Hey, it’s okay,” he cut her off. He took a glance at his hand, and then at her. “I’ve been bitten worse, and by worse things than you.”

Lucy shook her head. There was very little solace in his words now, even if he meant good. “But that’s going to leave an ugly scar.”

“I’ve got uglier scars. This is no big deal.”

“You should still have it healed.”

“Why should I?” he chuckled dryly. “That’s how I’ll always remember you, if… if we are ever apart.”

Lucy’s heart fell as Natsu went quiet, as if suddenly regretting what he had said. He looked away, and so did she. Though he might not have meant it like that, to Lucy it meant that he’d be gone when all of this would be over, just as she had feared, and the only thing he’d remember her from would be the scar on the back of his hand. Nothing more, nothing less. He had to mean it, he just didn’t dare to say it. After what had happened today, it would be foolish to stay with her any longer than he had to.

Lucy buried her face into her hands, fought away the tears, wondering how did she ever become so… dependant on him. The thought of him leaving broke her from the inside, made her fall into the void of loneliness, even though he was still there. In that small, silent moment, there were a million things she wanted to say. A million things she wished he would say, that even if she’d fall, he would stay, that none of her flaws would turn him away. But she swallowed her words, silenced in shame, choked by the belief that she was supposed to be stronger than this.

When the silence carried on, Lucy raised her eyes again and observed the hall. The light was scarce, but she could still see the outlines of two sleeping persons on the other side of the fire. They were Erza and Gray, she assumed. The battle had taken its toll on each one of them, and perhaps that was the reason Gray had stayed with them. Wandering back to Morthal while wounded like that would’ve killed him. Lucy’s gaze stayed on the sleeping frost mage, and anger rose to her throat like bile, sour and hot. She forced herself to swallow it.

“It shouldn’t have ended that way,” Natsu spoke suddenly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t… make him stop. This,” he paused and lifted his wounded hand, “is just a result of that.”

Lucy turned towards Natsu. He had noticed her looking at Gray, possibly sensed the hatred she felt, but it wasn’t her hatred. Natsu didn’t need to apologize, feel sorry for her, or keep dwelling in pointless self-loathing when nothing about it was his fault.

“It had to be done,” Lucy assured. Her voice wavered, but she tried to remain confident. Otherwise, he wouldn’t believe her and stop blaming himself. “Gray did the right thing.”

“But you –“

“It wasn’t me at that moment, Natsu. It was a child of Krosulhah he killed, not a child of mine. I’m not… I’m not grieving it, not really. But…”

“Krosulhah,” Natsu repeated, brows lifted. He pronounced the name wrong, perhaps hadn’t heard it right at first. “The frost dragon?”

Lucy nodded.

Natsu fell silent for a moment. “It’s still alive within you, isn’t it?”

“Alive? No. It’s dead. We killed it,” Lucy told, a bit of insecurity lingering among her words. “But at that moment, its soul was still aware of what happened. It took control over me. And I think… Yes, it still exists somewhere within me. I’m just hoping that…”

Her voice died down. She didn’t even know what she was hoping for. That the dragon wouldn’t take over her again, and try to kill all of her friends?

“How did you learn its name?” Natsu asked.

She sighed. “Seems like there’s a lot I’ll need to explain to you.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then you don’t have to.”

“Natsu,” Lucy said, looking him into the eyes, “I have to. I’ve avoided talking about this for… too long. And I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

Hesitating a bit, Natsu nodded. Lucy attempted to stand up, which was more challenging than she had assumed. She, too, was all out of magicka, and her body had taken a great hit as well. Every movement hurt. It seemed that being taken over by a dragon was too draining for human limits to bear.

“Come with me,” she beckoned.

Natsu followed her, and the campfire was smothered when he left its presence.

In the darkness, Lucy fumbled forward, guided by a distant memory of the layout of the hall. She attempted to cast Candlelight, but the light did not come. She heard silent footsteps behind her, and soon she found an open doorway, where the moons cast their light on the earth.

“The old priests of the Dragon Cult gathered in this hall,” Lucy explained as they walked out of the building into the cold night air. “Krosulhah, the frost dragon, had been one of those who coexisted with humans during the treaty the cultists formed with the dragons. It had seen Labyrinthian – no, Bromjunaar, in its days of great glory, and great… terror.”

Natsu glanced at her quizzically. “So, you’ve learnt all this by absorbing the dragon’s soul?”

She nodded faintly. “Yes. The dragon’s memories and knowledge cannot be separated from its soul and power. While I was unconscious, I sifted through them. The same thing happened with Sahklonir, but it wasn’t this… intense.” She raised her eyes to the streets they walked on – they looked so different now compared to her memory. “I saw them, the people who lived here, the dragons filling the skies. Flashes of time from thousands of years ago, how it was then, and how it will be again if the dragons win.”

The snow crunched below their feet, filling up the silence. As the fire mage didn’t say anything, Lucy guessed he was processing this information in his mind. Perhaps he imagined the streets as she had described, full of people stripped blank under Alduin’s everlasting cruelty.

“Lucy,” Natsu called suddenly. “If you can go through the dragon’s memories, is it possible for you to find out how Alduin was defeated there?”

Lucy silenced again.

“I’m afraid not. I have a memory of the bells tolling, day and night, for Alduin’s fall,” she whispered. Old belltowers stood on the edges of the city, lonely and abandoned, and the bells had long ago been lost to the winds of time. She could still hear them ringing. “Krosulhah was here that day, not on the battleground, which was someplace else. And even if it had somehow learned how Alduin was killed, I don’t think… I don’t think I’m ready to learn it yet. Because when I tried to –“

When she tried to tell him what had happened, she suddenly choked. Choked on the terror of being eaten by the dragon, even though it hadn’t been real, but what had followed, had been very real.

“Take your time,” he told softly.

Lucy cleared her throat, gathered herself briefly. “The dragon offered me a chance,” Lucy said, looking into his eyes. “I don’t know how to describe it, but I talked with Krosulhah. It could’ve been just my mind playing tricks with me, but it felt more real than that. The dragon talked to me, in a language I understood, and I could speak back to it.”

Natsu didn’t seem to understand, but he still listened. “What did it say?”

“If you survive through my death, then you might just be strong enough to witness my life,” she answered and shuddered. “Those things I was able to witness were things I could comprehend. Simple memories, nothing else. But if I wish to dwell deeper than that, I have to… I have to remember its death. No… experience it, and be strong enough to live through it. I tried, but it would’ve killed me if you hadn’t woken me up.”

“Experience its death?” he wondered, his tone growing serious. “You mean…”

They passed by the scenery which had turned into the battleground, the maze of streets they had been lost into, the collapsed building they had sought shelter at. The main street led to the plaza, and approaching it made her nervous. Natsu seemed to sense it, as his presence suddenly grew tense. Lucy took a deep breath. She had to tell him, and she had to be honest, or it would eat her up from the inside.

“I made it so far until a spear hit my chest and filled my lungs with your fire,” she told, with a voice so silent it was barely heard. “When you said that fire was a merciful way to die… you were lying.”

Natsu halted completely. Lucy stopped beside him, knowing his eyes were on her, but she couldn’t turn towards him. A soft night breeze blew cold on her, played for a moment with her hair, and then it was gone again.

“… shit,” he mumbled, and tried to say something else, but Lucy spoke first.

“It just means that I’m not ready for it yet. Not strong enough. I should’ve listened to Arngeir. He was right all along,” she told woefully. “Meditating at High Hrothgar was a safe way for me to come to terms with Sahklonir’s memories, so I guess I’ll have to continue that habit. If I don’t consciously go through them, they’ll unravel in my dreams, and that’s… that’s quite terrible.”

“I… I can’t even imagine what it’s like.”

“Yes, nightmares I could handle, but actual vivid memories of slaughtering children and burning down villages?” Lucy shuddered. “It’s a curse for sure.”

Without knowing what to say, they carried on. Natsu slowed his pace as he noticed where Lucy was heading to. She walked towards the crater on the ground, where the dragon’s remains lay. Before he could ask, Lucy decided to explain. The time of keeping him in the dark had come to an end.

“I have to go there for one last time,” Lucy said as they finally reached the scene. “And don’t be afraid. I’m not going to let Krosulhah take control of me again. Consider it as… making amends.”

As they descended down the crater’s slope, Natsu asked, “Do you think you could control the frost dragon’s power? I mean, if you weren’t trying to kill us all, that would’ve been… cool, or… I don’t know. You were pretty strong in that form.”

Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Maybe, with enough time and training.” She fell silent for a moment. “But it could be dangerous if I lost control.”

In theory, it could work. However, Lucy’s memory of that moment was fragmented. Her hands had been covered in frozen scales and icy talons had formed in the place of her nails, but otherwise, she couldn’t tell what it had been like. Using such a powerful form in combat could be a big advantage, or then a complete disaster.

“Then we’d just stop you.”

Lucy smiled slightly. It was sweet how he said we, meaning Erza, even Gray too, but then she realised he was loathing himself for not being able to stop her by himself. It wasn’t easy for herself to remember either. She had been aware the whole time, forced to watch as she almost killed him, and now her mind was shattering the memories like broken glass.

“I appreciate it.”

They reached the bottom of the crater. The dragon’s white bones gleamed in the moonlight. There was haunting beauty in the scene, an eerie feeling of something immortal, eternal coming to an end. They both stopped and just stared at the skeleton in silence. No ghosts lingered there, but for a moment she wondered how terrifying it would be to encounter a ghostly dragon.

Then, released from her frozen state, Lucy walked to the smaller skeleton laying too far away from its mother, cut in half, abandoned. She crouched beside it, tried to touch it, but she pulled her hands away. Her heart wrenched by the sight she beheld, tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. Once more, she reminded herself that this wasn’t her child, and no matter how ominous the dragon’s words had been, it didn’t mean they would be true...

You, Dragonborn, are the last of your kind. The last one that will ever be.

Lucy bit her lower lip as her chin began to tremble. She heard as Natsu stepped closer, perhaps to secure she wouldn’t turn into anything draconic again. She traced her hands around the bones of the little dragon, not quite daring to touch it, like it would shatter and disappear if she did. Its skull was small enough to fit her palm.

Your line of blood will end with you.

Then she picked the skeleton into her hands, somehow knowing it would be the closest thing to a child of her own she would ever hold in her arms. How she knew it, she wasn’t sure of. An intuition, a faint premonition, a glimpse to the future still shrouded in the mists of fate. She might have once dreaded the thought of bearing sons to a man she did not love, but now she knew she’d never bear a single son to anyone. Trembling helplessly, she held the bones in her arms, pressed them against her chest and kissed them goodbye.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she rose, and carried the dragon back to its real mother. Gently, she placed them beneath the larger skull, adjusted them so it looked like Krosulhah was caressing the baby with its head. Then she traced her fingers upon the bones and mumbled a silent prayer, one she had heard a funeral once in the past, dedicated to Arkay, the god of the cycle of birth and death.

“Arkay, bring light to the dark. Arkay, bring hope to the hopeless. Arkay, protect these souls.” She paused for a breath, swallowed tears. “Guide me through these times, that I may once again see your light.”

A strange sense of peace filled her upon this prayer. The grief was still there, even though she had said she wasn’t grieving. A part of her did. She then glanced over her shoulder, and saw the fire mage standing there, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

“This had to be done,” Lucy assured, voice shivering. “As horrible as it was, Gray did the right thing. The egg wasn’t even ready to be laid. It would’ve taken years before it would’ve matured, and even longer for the dragon to hatch. And with its mother dead, it would not have survived. It would’ve just petrified here… and the result would’ve been the same.”

“I know, but…” Natsu whispered. “I’m sorry it had to happen like that. I…”

Lucy smiled, sad and warm at the same time. “Don’t be. Besides, there is this one thing… one more reason why it had to be killed.”

“Well?”

She lowered her gaze back to the remains of the little dragon. She dreaded to say what she knew, but she had to. Keeping it as a secret wouldn’t make it disappear.

“It was a son of Alduin.”

Silence fell again.

“… what?” the mage asked then, eyes widened, glistening with tears. “How… how can you know?”

Lucy sighed as she closed her eyes. “As a ‘gift’ for its resurrection, Alduin…” she started, but couldn’t say it. She just couldn’t. “Krosulhah was a female dragon, at this certain age of its existence when it could bear a child. Dragons have only one period of time when they can breed, only once, and Alduin… took advantage of that.”

Natsu stared at her in utter silence. Lucy stood up again, walked beside him and beckoned him to leave with her. If she’d stay there a moment longer, the grief would paralyze her. Or not grief – it was empathy. She felt bad for the dragon, pitied it, pitied its fate. They climbed out of the crater, but Lucy couldn’t stop thinking about it, even after the dragons were out of her sight.

Lucy knew not where to head next, and assumed Natsu felt the same. The dawn was still hours away and the night was chilly, but moving along kept her warm. In fact, she noticed that the cold didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Lucy raised her eyes to the starlit sky once again. Of all the things in these ruins, only it had remained the same over the span of aeons.

“At least there’s still something beautiful left in this world,” Lucy sighed. Natsu gazed at her, but did not really say anything. A sudden question appeared in her mind, a brilliant way to take her thoughts someplace else from all of this gloom and despair. “Hey, which stars were you born under?”

Natsu shrugged. “I have no idea.”

There were thirteen constellations on the sky, some of which were visible right now. As it was halfway through Frostfall, the stars of the Tower and the Shadow were the most prominent. A book called ‘The Firmanent’ had taught her the details of the cosmic heavens, and she had read it many times in her childhood.

“Then which month were you born?” Lucy asked.

“Sun’s Height.”

She flashed a brief smile. “So, your birthsign is the Apprentice. Should’ve guessed. Those born under that sign usually become talented mages, as their magicka regenerates faster than usual. In return, they’re a bit vulnerable to magic, but your half-elven blood could balance it out. You Bretons are more resistant to spells, and I’ve read that you can actually absorb some of the hostile magic. It’s kinda cool, actually.”

Natsu chuckled and looked down. “If you know all that, you’ve read too many books,” he said. “Well, what about you? What’s your sign? Honestly, I’ve never even thought about such things.”

“I was born in Sun’s Dawn, so my sign is the Lover,” Lucy answered and smiled slightly, a bit embarrassed. “Graceful and passionate by nature, one who seems to learn everything with ease, they say. Sometimes I feel like I’m just full of shit.”

“You aren’t, really.”

Lucy lifted an eyebrow. “Graceful or full of shit?”

“Depends on your mood,” he sneered. “No, honestly, I don’t think either one of us has actually been at our best during this time. We’ve been through too much shit. It doesn’t mean we’re filled with it. More like… covered in it.”

Lucy had to laugh a little. “Sometimes,” she sighed, “it’s hard to remember who I was before all of this happened. It feels so distant now.” Lucy looked down. “I keep wondering how much of me can be salvaged when this is over. If this is ever over.”

Natsu went silent for a moment. “Is that what you’re afraid of? Losing yourself?”

And somehow, he managed to put everything into words perfectly, put a name for her conflicted, messed up thoughts. That was exactly what she was afraid of, had been afraid for a while. She had already lost everything else.

Lucy nodded, her voice suddenly becoming quiet. “I don’t want to turn into something I’ve sworn I’d never become.”

Natsu looked at her for a while, figuring out what to say. “Even if you do, you can still turn back. If we’ve changed into something we despise, we can also change back into something good,” he told then. “We might never be the same we once were, but we can always become better.”

Lucy turned her eyes to him, but just briefly. He had said the exact words she needed to hear, leaving her dumbfounded, and almost moved to tears. She just had to remember who she had been. Treasure the little things she had once loved, the small details that had made her. And that’s what she wanted, to return to what she used to be, and let him know her as Lucy.

“I hope so,” Lucy answered and gazed up to the stars. “I used to love astronomy almost as much as I loved magic… well, the stars and the magic actually go hand in hand. Did you know that the stars are actually little holes to Aetherius?”

“Well,” Natsu answered and glanced at her, before turning his eyes back to the stars. “I did not know that.”

Lucy wasn’t sure if she had read this from a book or learned it from the frost dragon, but she could explain the lore as she had always known it true.

“After the creation of Nirn, a god called Magnus and other spirits fled back there, tearing holes to the veil between the worlds. Aetherius is the origin of all magic, and the sun and the stars are the passages from where magic comes to this world," Lucy explained, her eyes sparkling. “And we Nords believe that our souls ascend to Aetherius upon our death. My mother and father are somewhere out there, amongst those stars, watching over me.”

“I thought you Nords went to Sovngarde, or whatever place it was called.”

“Sovngarde is a place in Aetherius, but only those who die bravely in a battle are allowed to enter the Hall of Valor. It’s a paradise for Nords. Pain and illness vanish there. Revelry is never-ending, mead flows freely, and the greatest Nords of all time compete in tests of strength and prowess.”

Natsu chuckled. “I liked the mead part.”

Lucy laughed a little. “Well, what about you? Do Bretons have any similar beliefs? I’m not sure if I’ve ever actually read into that.” 

“Until now, I’m not sure if I believed in anything,” he answered, shrugging. “I never thought about afterlife, or where I’d go after I die. I never really gave a damn. Considering my way of life, maybe I should’ve thought about it more often.” He silenced for a moment. “Igneel always said that death is not the end, but the beginning. I’m not sure where he is now. Possibly out there in this Aetherius with his ancestors.”

If Lucy had to describe that moment with one word, it would’ve been comfort. Just standing there in the darkness with a friend by her side, staring into the stars, knowing those who’d once stood beside them were out there, safe, happy, free of all the pain.

“I’m sure Igneel is watching over you,” Lucy whispered after a while. “Your mother, too.”

Natsu smiled slightly. “And possibly telling my mom all the bad things we did together so that she can go insane again.” He chuckled, but there was no joy in it, only sorrow. “He’d be like ‘Oh hi Natsu’s crazy mom! Did you know that your son burned half of Shor’s Stone and nearly got executed for that? You didn’t? Well, want to take a look at his bounty list?”

Lucy glanced at him, furrowing her brows. “Just how long was your bounty list?”

“Too fucking long,” he groaned and shielded his eyes into his palms, dragged his fingers down his face, then shook his head. “About remembering who we were before all of this happened… Well, I’m actually pretty glad I’m not like that anymore.”

Somehow, each time he talked about his past, it made her curious. What if they had met back then, as a wanted pyromancer and an innocent merchant girl? Lucy doubted they would have formed any kind of friendship. Despite all the turmoil they had gone through together, it somehow felt like it was the way it was meant to be all along.

“As you said, we can always change for the better,” Lucy answered. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

“Yeah, after driving her into a nervous wreck, I think I owe it to her to behave properly for once.”

The sadness in his voice made her flinch. Though she could imagine how nerve-wracking being his mother had to be, she doubted it was the whole truth. He might’ve been mischievous with his tricks and pranks, like hiding frogs in his parents’ bed, but he was no evil. Had never been. She knew it in her heart.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault that she lost her mind. Sometimes that just… happens,” Lucy tried to assure, but it had no visible effect. His face stayed as cold and still as a stone.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve never actually heard of what she was like before I was born. I only know what she was like with me.”

“Then what was she like? You’ve never really told me.”

Natsu went silent again, and for a moment Lucy feared he’d never speak again. “It’s not something I really want to talk about, but…” he hesitated, but a small hint in his eyes told ‘I trust you’, and he continued. “I don’t know what her illness was. Not exactly brain rot, but something fucked up her mind. Sometimes, it was better and the other times… it wasn’t. She was happy at times. A good mother. I think it started getting worse when my brother left.”

Deep down, Lucy was incredibly glad that he finally spoke about it, and at the same time, it just saddened her more. She knew not what to say, and perhaps she didn’t need to say anything. It was enough that she listened. No one else probably had listened to him before.

“Worrying over your brother had to be draining for her mind, if she was already in a bad condition,” Lucy commented.

”Sure was. When it was getting bad again, she became… I don’t know, apathic, at first,” Natsu started. “Then she started seeing things. Hearing things, having long conversations with our dogs even after they had gotten tired of listening to her and fucked off. She was never violent or anything, she just… disappeared. She was there, physically, but she wasn’t really in this world at all. But after a few months, sometimes half a year, she returned to normal. Or what was normal for her.” Natsu took a deep breath, and Lucy could see how he fought back the tears. “And the last time it happened, I was still hoping she’d come back. She never did.”

As he stared into nothingness, Lucy’s heart was struck with guilt. When she had vanished into the dragon’s memories, had it brought all of that back to him? He had pulled her out of her nightmares, but how many times had he done it with his mother? Or tried, with no effort?

“I tried to help her, you know, but I couldn’t do anything,” he whispered, looking at her. “She just slowly faded away. And I think that the last time she was lost in there, she never actually wanted to come back. Wherever she went, it had to be better than this.”

And at that moment, Lucy swore to herself that she wouldn’t disappear. No matter how deep into despair the dragons would bring her, she would always rise. She just couldn’t make him go through that again, to watch someone fading away before his very own eyes.

“I hope she’s at peace now,” she said quietly.

Natsu smiled sadly. “Me too.”

Then, it was quiet for a long while.

They kept walking through the ruined streets, guided by bright moonlight, with no rush to anywhere. They passed by the gathering hall, climbed up some stairs, up and down and up again, until they reached a platform lifted to the upper district of the city, and stopped there. They had watched over the ruins from there yesterday, but they looked so different at nighttime. Eerie, haunting, yet still so beautiful.

“Tell me, Lucy,” Natsu said suddenly, as if he had been thinking about something the whole time they had been silent. “How did I hear your voice?”

For the briefest moment, Lucy didn’t know what he meant, but then it struck her. It had been when Krosulhah had forced her to cast Blizzard, a spell she couldn’t even comprehend yet, intending to take them both down with it. From there, her memories were the most clouded. If he hadn’t brought it up, she would have believed it hadn’t happened at all. She remembered calling for his help, but when he had actually answered, she had just thought it hadn’t been real.  

“I think that we were both dying,” she answered, still terrified of that moment. “Partially, our souls had begun to ascend into Aetherius. I must have found you on the way.”

Then, when she had felt herself leaving her body, she had sought for the last resort to break the spell. At that moment, her death had been the only way she had seen to break free of Krosulhah’s grasp, and save Natsu. She had been wrong. When she had placed the dagger into his hand, he had turned it away, chosen not to hurt her, even if it would cost him his life. And such a small, simple gesture had spoken more than a million words ever could. He had already stayed when she had fallen. If he had truly chosen to die with her, it meant that none of her flaws could turn him away.  

“So, the stars were the afterlife, after all.”

“Stars?” Lucy wondered. She wiped the tears from her eyes, that had formed discreetly during the silence.

“Yes. I remember the stars. I wanted not to follow them, when I was in the dark, but they lured me. Called for me, asked me to join them eternally. And when I heard you, I felt like… like I was dropped from a great height, back to my body. I can’t really explain it.” He went silent again. “So, now I know where I’ll go when I die.” He raised his gaze to the night sky, to the stars that now glimmered in his eyes. “To Aetherius.”

Lucy turned towards him hastily and whispered, “Don’t go there without me.”

She knew not why she had said that, but when Natsu smiled at her, the regrets faded.

“But isn’t your place in Sovngarde, with the other great Nordic heroes?” he asked.

“I don’t want to go there if you cannot come with me.”

At that moment, looking into his eyes where the stars danced, she knew in her heart she’d refuse her place in Sovngarde. A paradise for all Nordic heroes it might be, but without him there beside her, it would be nothing else than eternal loneliness.

“Then don’t go where I cannot follow you,” Natsu answered.

And then they stood there in the darkness of the night, in perfect silence, gazing at the distant stars until they were gone.

Chapter Text

At dawn, they returned to the gathering hall.

Light washed over the ruins as the sun climbed above the horizon. It broke through the blue moment, painted the skies in crimson shades, and softly cast its warming rays on Lucy’s face. In silence, she stole one last glance of the sunrise before gesturing at Natsu that it was time to go. Then she looked away to hide her smile. She had been smiling for too long now.

Suddenly, after what Natsu had said, all had fallen to place in her mind. She had been so afraid, afraid of being alone, but those words cast away her fear just like the dawn casts away the night. ‘Then don’t go where I cannot follow you,’ had he said. In Lucy’s world that meant, ‘I won’t leave you alone.’ It was a promise. She wouldn’t have to carry the greatest task on her own. As long as she had him by her side, there was nothing she couldn’t do.

By the time they made it back to the camp, Erza and Gray were already awake. They sat in front of the renewed fire, eating breakfast and nursing the wounds from yesterday’s battle. Gray cast healing spells on the bruises on his face and Erza applied ointment to her frostbites. Both of them raised their eyes to Natsu and Lucy, but didn’t say anything. Lucy had not been looking forward to debriefing the battle with them, and she only realised it now.

“So,” Lucy broke the long silence and cleared her throat. She hesitated. She could trust in Erza, but could she trust in Gray? That was yet to see. “I’m assuming you both need some answers.”

Gray lifted his eyes from the fire to her. “There’s quite a lot to talk about, indeed, but honestly, I don’t know where to begin.”

“How are you feeling now, Lucy?” Erza asked, her tone warm and considerate. “That’s the only answer I need at the moment. The rest can wait ‘til you’re ready to talk about it.”

“I’m feeling fine, thank you,” Lucy answered and smiled. She was touched by Erza’s concern over her wellbeing. “But I have to talk about this now. Erza, grab your notebook and writing supplies. I want you to write down everything and show it to our scholar when we make it back to Whiterun.”

Lucy sat down on the other side of the campfire, crisscrossed her legs and took a deep breath. Natsu seated beside her, his gaze locked on the frost mage. Lucy noticed how he pressed his hands into fists to contain his resentment. She had tried to convince him that there was no need to despise Gray for what he did to the dragon’s egg, but it seemed nothing would persuade Natsu to stop loathing him.

“But before that, let’s make some things clear,” Natsu started, still staring at Gray from under his brows. “Do you understand why we couldn’t tell you that Lucy is the Dragonborn?”

Gray shrugged with a smug expression on his face. “You tried to be mysterious or something.”

“Idiot,” Natsu hissed and spat to the ground in front of him. “It’s because of the old dragon cult. Ever heard of them?” he asked, but only raised his head a bit, and continued before Gray could answer. “Well, if they learn who the Dragonborn is, they’re going to hunt her down. Then they’ll capture her, break her, kill her, because she’s the only one who can kill the dragons. They want her dead.”

Lucy glanced at Natsu again, holding her breath. His voice was scarily low when he spoke, precise. In uncomfortable silence, Gray exchanged a confused gaze with Lucy, and then looked back to the fire mage.

“The dragon cult?” he wondered.

“Yeah. Those fuckers who built these ruins. Everyone thinks they’re dead and gone, but so we thought about the dragons. The dragons are back, and so are those who worship them as gods,” Natsu explained. “Only a few people know who the Dragonborn is, us included, and now you. That knowledge just can’t fall into wrong hands. Do you understand?”

Gray was silent for a moment as the words sunk in, and then he nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I’m not afraid to report your death to the Archmage if you –“

Lucy’s eyes shot at him. “Natsu, that’s enough.”

“ – you tell anyone and I’m going to burn you alive –“

“Natsu!” she shouted.

Lucy kept staring at him even after he was cut off. He remained silent, didn’t even look at her, but only at Gray. Just yesterday, when the dragon attacked them, Natsu had seemed concerned about his fellow apprentice’s life. He had even appeared sad, shocked when Gray had disappeared into the blizzard, but now, all of that was gone. There was only hate. Could the incident have really changed that much?

“I mean it,” Natsu muttered after a while. “You keep your mouth shut about everything that happened here. Are we clear?”

“Yes, dickhead,” Gray answered sullenly. “We are painfully clear.”

When had the fear of the cultists grown into this big? Lucy remembered how Natsu had urged her to be more careful back at the College, scolded her for almost slipping the secret to the Archmage. But threatening to kill a fellow student for knowing that? That wasn’t like him at all. Personally, Lucy doubted the cultists would be as menacing as the actual dragons. Sure, the fewer enemies they had, the better, but Natsu had truly taken that thing under his skin.

“Are you done?” Lucy asked them both. None of them answered, and so she glanced at the frost mage. “Gray, I’ll let you know that I trust you, even without the death threats.”

“Well, isn’t that relieving to hear,” Gray answered, yet somewhat ironical. “You aren’t angry about what happened yesterday? With the dragon’s egg? It was pretty… rough. A lot rougher than I thought. I’m sorry about that.”

Lucy shook her head. Honestly, she hadn’t expected him to apologize, but she was glad he did. For the short time she had known him, Lucy knew he could be ruthless at times, but not evil. Gray had his feet on the ground, and enough guts to act upon what was right. “I’m not angry. It had to be done, and I’ll tell you why.”

And so Lucy told him and Erza about the things she witnessed after absorbing Krosulhah’s soul. She told them about the old dragon cult, as it had reigned in these halls, how the bells had tolled when Alduin had been defeated. Erza wrote every word into her notebook, sometimes asking if she had truly heard right. When she said that the dragon hatchling had been Alduin’s son, Gray no longer apologized for destroying it.

Lucy also explained to them the things she had learned about the reproduction of the dragons. Through Krosulhah hadn’t directly discussed the subject with her, now she just knew. Little pieces of the knowledge were within her reach. Now she could intuitively tell that while dragons were immortal, unable to die of old age, there was only one period of a female dragon’s entire lifespan when they could breed, only once. Laying the egg permanently destroyed their reproductive organs – a dragon’s eternal life came with a price.

During that fertile time, the male dragons of the area would fight each other for the chance to continue their bloodlines, and the winner, the strongest, would claim that right. For Krosulhah, it had been different. As Lucy thought about it, she realised she now referred to the frost dragon as her, not it, anymore. Alduin had claimed her right away after the resurrection, with no ceremonies, no consent.

Yet still, Krosulhah had been forced to think that as a blessing, a gift, a privilege to bear Alduin’s son, or one of his sons. Who knew how many had he sired? Unlike the female dragons, the males had no limitations to that matter. The number of one’s offspring was just a measure of one’s strength, and Alduin was the strongest of them all. The firstborn of Akatosh.

However, Lucy had also learned that after the conception, the male dragon would take no part in taking care of the mother, or raising the hatchling. They formed no families. Alone, the mother dragon would carry the egg, and once laid, protect it with her life. The whole process took years to complete, and during that time, the mother dragons were fairly more aggressive and territorial than normal. The dragon would choose a lair, usually atop of a mountain, where they would grow and raise the hatchling until it would be ready to leave the nest.

Even after leaving the lair, the bond between the mother and the child was still strong. It took decades before they would separate, which was, in an immortal dragon’s life, actually a very short time. The connection remained after they had gone on their own ways, and they usually came to aid one another in a battle. Knowing all this was important for understanding the ways of dragon lives, but the toughest lesson here was to know how expecting dragons behaved. And Lucy hoped with all of her heart that she wouldn’t have to cross paths with one again soon.

When Lucy had told them everything she was capable of telling, everyone fell silent for a long while. There was a lot to let sink in. Their gazes focused on the campfire, its crackling being the only sound in the dim lit stone hall. In the silence, Lucy realised she was hungry, but she only had a loaf of dry rye bread and some frozen snowberries. While she ate them, she pensively dreamt of visiting the food market of Whiterun once again.

“So, Lucy, how did you learn that you are the Dragonborn?” Gray asked suddenly. Natsu paid him a murderous stare, but Lucy answered anyway.

“We were in Kynesgrove, a few days before arriving at the College,” Lucy started. If Gray already knew who she was, there was no point to shut him out. He deserved to know the whole story. “We were supposed to investigate the dragon burial mound there with Erza when Alduin appeared. He raised a dragon from the dead, and escaped. Then we fought the dragon, and I killed it, and absorbed its soul.”

“And that’s when the Greybeards called for you. It could be heard in Winterhold, too. I think it could be heard all over Tamriel.”

“Probably,” Lucy answered. “They summoned me to High Hrothgar. After that, Stormcloak soldiers took us to Jarl Ulfric at Windhelm. He, and his most trusted men, know who I am. As a reward for saving Kynesgrove, he gave us money and weapons, and he even pardoned Natsu’s bounty if he’d escort me to the monastery. He didn’t trust I would survive the pilgrimage alone.”

Gray nodded slowly, and turned towards Natsu. “So that’s why you took her there? To get your criminal history swiped under the rug?”

Lucy squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to smash her palms to her face. She didn’t want them to start another quarrel right after closing the previous one. Why couldn’t they just come along? What in the name of Talos had made them hate each other so damn much?

“No,” Natsu replied, still reeling at him. “Ulfric might have asked me to escort her there, but if it was only because of that, I wouldn’t even be here now. I only had to take her to the monks, not stay there with her. I did that because she’s a friend, and I’m still here for the same reason.”

Gray scoffed. “Friend. Hmph. I see, there’s only one thing you’re after. That’s all you damn elves want, some sweet Nord pussy –”

Lucy extended her hand in front of Natsu before he sprung up and stormed at Gray. His eyes burned in rage, but Lucy wasn’t sure if it was because of the miscalling of his race, because he wasn’t actually an elf, or doubting the sincerity of their friendship. She knew Natsu had the purest soul a man could even have, so it was directly insulting for Gray to assume he was only after her flesh. In fact, Lucy felt like Gray was projecting his own desires here. If someone didn’t have clean flours in the bag, it had to be Gray.

“Cut it off, both of you,” Lucy commanded sternly and forced the fire mage back to the ground. “This is no place for talk like that, so keep your filthy tongue contained from now on. Got it, Gray?”

Gray mumbled something that Lucy couldn’t hear. Erza, who had been silent so far, rubbed the bridge of her nose and dragged her hand down her face. At that moment, Lucy guessed she was ashamed to be a Nord, too. Ashamed for Gray, at least. Unfortunately, he was one of those rock-headed Nord men who thought Skyrim belonged only to them, all the lands and the women too. If he really thought that, he was mistaken, since Lucy belonged to no one.

“Sorry. That just slipped,” Gray said then, avoiding looking into her. “However, I’d like to know one more thing. The real reason why you are here.”

Lucy took a deep breath, hoping with all of her heart that he would behave this time. When she had been alone with Gray back in the College, he had acted like a decent lad. He truly had. But every damn time he was in the same room with Natsu, he changed completely. Now he was barely balancing between a nice guy and a total douchebag, which made him probably one of the most conflicted persons Lucy had ever met. Those two brought the very worst of each other out.

“Well, as a final trial, the Greybeards asked me to retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller from Ustengrav,” Lucy explained. “We decided to pass through these ruins not just to save time, but also to find clues about how ancient Nords killed the dragons. And well, so far we learned the Skyforge Steel deals them some very good damage.”

Gray lifted his brows, his eyes widening. “Ustengrav? I know where that is.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” he said and nodded. “I could show you some directions. I’ll be heading back to Morthal, which is on the way. If we leave this morning, we’ll reach the town tonight. You could stay at my mother’s place if you want, for food and bed.” Gray looked at Lucy, then rubbed at his forehead. “And… thank you. All of you. I wouldn’t have made it without your help yesterday.”

“It’s… okay. Thank you, too,” Lucy replied, faked a quick, awkward smile, then eyed at Erza and Natsu. “What do you think? Should we stop by at Morthal?”

Natsu only buried his face into his hands, not saying anything. Lucy already knew what he thought. ‘No fucking way.’

“I’m fine with that,” Erza answered. “I’m always open to free food and a free bed. And you did well in the battle, Gray. Your mouth might be full of dirt, but you’re a decent warrior.”

Gray smiled shortly. He seemed very aware of the amount of dirt in his mouth, and confident in his skills at battle, but getting a compliment from a Companion wasn’t what he got every day, and it showed through the smugness on his face.

“So, it’s decided. Morthal it is,” Lucy declared then. Three against one, if Natsu’s answer was no. “But there’s one thing I have to do first.”

“What it is, Lucy?” Erza asked.

“The frost dragon’s lair is here nearby. I want to go there,” Lucy answered. “I’m not sure if we could find some answers there, but I feel like it will be worth checking it out.”

“Alright. We better get going right ahead.”

When they had gathered their gear and put down the fire, they headed out again. Lucy led the way through the maze of the streets, down the stone gates in the mountain pass, and from there to a small path rising to the hills. It was barely visible among the trees and rocks. Not too many travellers had threaded up to that path lately, but as if a map was drawn to her head, Lucy knew exactly where to go.

Along with the sun, they climbed towards the sky. The narrow path rose along the mountainside, and from time to time there were clear steps carved on the stone. She glanced at Natsu, who walked in silence by her side. Memories flashed in Lucy’s mind once again, but she struggled to speak about them. There were no words to describe the unimaginable cruelty she had to witness. The ruins of Labyrinthian grew small underneath them, and eventually, they reached the summit, the dragon’s lair.

They passed below another ancient gate, and stepped on a level platform that opened to the precipice. A walkway made from stone extended over the edge, ending into the nothingness of an endless fall down to the ruins far below. Lucy shuddered at the sight. She remembered that, too. She remembered people forced to walk down that path to their deaths, all for the amusement of the priests, and the pleasing of the dragons.

The group dispersed from there. Erza wrote notes with her freezing, bare hands, Gray stopped by the edge and admired the view opening to the north, and Natsu and Lucy examined the strange table in the middle of the platform. A human skeleton lay on top of it, with an old, rusted blade struck through its ribcage, straight on the heart. Beside it was a small, golden avatar shaped like a dragon – a shrine of Akatosh, the Lord of the Dragons.

“What happened here?” Natsu asked her.

Lucy looked down at the table, which she now understood was an altar. “Sacrifices.”

As if upon a common decision, they spent a moment of silence. Lucy placed her hand upon the skull, watched into those empty eyes which had stared into the skies for thousands of years, as if bound to this altar by magic. Though her heart was breaking, she pulled herself back together when she sensed familiar energy humming behind her.

She turned, and saw a word wall.

The majestic monument stood in the embrace of the mountain, echoing the same ominous magic she had felt before. It was built the same way as the one in the volcanic tundra, yet time had treated this differently. Centuries of ruthless winter winds had whipped it bare, gnawed it from the edges, polished away the ornaments made by man. Only the carvings remained, the writings of the dragon language, from where the magic pulsated.

Lucy, drawn to that magic, walked close to the wall. Natsu followed her, but stopped behind her, as if walking too near to the carvings would hurt him.

“Can you read this?” Natsu whispered in awe.

Lucy traced her fingers upon the marks. She felt the power on her fingertips, and remembered once thinking about how one could harness that power only through understanding what it meant.

Now she did.

“Here shall the bravest Nords fly to the embrace of Akatosh, those born of the skies, to the frost of a night,” she read out loud, surprising even herself. Her mind had directly translated the text from dragon language to the common tongue. “And where these cold winds whip the stones bare, the blood shall freeze upon this Altar of the Skyborn.”

Then she remembered the words of power Krosulhah had used to summon the whirl of frost.

Fo, Krah, Diin.

Frost, cold, freeze.

Lucy raised her hands on his lips, as if to seal them before a breath of frost would escape her throat. Perhaps this was what the Greybreads had meant when they said her training would be completed on the field. She would learn new Shouts directly from the dragons, but the magic of these word walls would help her understand them as a whole. When she had learned Unrelenting Force from Sahklonir, she had only been able to utter one word, and the rest had been forgotten.

Lucy realised she had fallen deep into her own thoughts, and Natsu had been staring at her for a while now, still in awe. ”Did you really read that, or just made that up?”

Lucy nodded. “I read that. It was meant to encourage those who were sacrificed here to please the dragons.”

When she turned around, she accidentally kicked a frozen bone on the ground. It clattered as it slid forwards on the ice. A thin layer of fresh frost had covered the blood, the brutal marks of the feasts Krosulhah had kept here. Beside the word wall, was a pile of bones and half-eaten remains of horses, goats, bears, anything the dragon had hunted and brought to her nest. Lucy’s gaze sharpened as she noticed a chunk of flesh and bones, rolled separately from the rest of the parings.

It was a small, human hand.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she forced herself to look away. A hand so small could only belong to a child. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and met Natsu’s restless, worried gaze. Then his eyes moved past her, and found it too. Lucy saw him flinch. He stared at it, much longer than Lucy dared to, as if unable to tear himself out of the sight. ‘Do you remember that, too?’ she could almost hear him ask. She hadn’t remembered that kill, but now she did.

While some dragons burned down cities, some hunted for lost children in the woods. The suffering caused by the return of the dragons came in scales big and small.

Lucy caught him from the sleeve, gently tugged it. Finally, he turned his gaze back to her, as if trying to say something, but failed. Lucy shook her head, and without letting go of his sleeve, she walked with him to the edge. They stopped at a safe distance away from the fall, staring down from the precipice that stretched over the ruins of Labyrinthian, all the way into the distant horizon.

And then, at the ancient altar for human sacrifices performed by the dragon cult, Lucy sensed the deepest pathos in the atmosphere, a monumental sorrow – the very land itself was a barrow. 

As twilight began to swallow the world around them, they finally arrived at Morthal.

They had walked westward on the road that ran north of Labyrinthian, and Natsu recognized the smell of a swamp from afar. It made him restless. The torches of the distant town glowed in the fog like little gleaming wisps. He had once seen a wispmother around this area, a terrifying ghost of a frost queen, and never wanted to see one again.

Ominous, twisted trees surrounded the town. Morthal was built on the southern edge of Drajkmyr marsh, the same enormous, festering swamp that dominated the landscape from here to Natsu’s old homestead. The marshland eventually connected to the Sea of Ghosts, and one could see to the coasts of Solitude from where the swamp finally met the sea. A thick, constant mist had shrouded these lands, just like it had been when Natsu had last been there, over five years ago. As if nothing had changed.

“Hey, before I forget to tell you, there has been a vampire, or vampires, on the run, so watch out for your necks,” Gray said suddenly, breaking the silence that has been as persistent as the fog. The last time someone had spoken, it had been Lucy cracking a joke at the stairs on the northern side of Labyrinthian, right there where Natsu had once fallen. “Some of the townsfolk had been turned lately, while others have been preyed on. Suspicious disappearances, that kind of stuff. No-one knows who’s behind that, except that it’s a vampire.”

Or then, something could’ve changed.

“Vampires?” Lucy asked with widened eyes. She walked beside Natsu, and peeked past him to get eye contact with the frost mage on Natsu’s right side. Erza was somewhere behind them, as her armour slowed her down.

“Yeah. Those blood-sucking undead shits. I fucking hate them. They say they can break through your mind and make you willingly offer your blood to them as a meal. Can you believe?”

Lucy shuddered from disgust. “By Ysmir, how does one even defend against them?”

“By burning them,” Natsu commented nonchalantly.

“That’s your answer to anything,” Gray scoffed. “Have you ever even seen one? Or fought against one?”

For the entire day, Natsu had been barely hanging by the thread in containing his anger. Back in the College, he had been forced to share some lessons with Gray, and that seldom went well. It was impossible for Gray to shut his damn mouth, just as impossible as it was for Natsu to not shut it with his fist. Eventually, the teachers had made a common agreement to put them in separate classes.

“No, but I know they’re vulnerable to fire because they’re undead,” Natsu answered and rolled his eyes. “They combust like dry leaves. You wouldn’t stand a chance against them.”

“Combust like dry leaves?” Gray repeated with a sneer. “Man, do you like, get hard from burning people alive? Because you sound like you really, really love doing that.”

“Yeah, almost as hard as you get from gutting frost trolls. Fucking creep.”

Gray grinned. “Hey, little firebug, that’s unfair –“

“Can you guys just fucking stop?” Lucy cut them off. “Gods damn you. Now, tell me, how can I defend against a vampire?”

“Burn them –“

“Shut up, man,” Gray interrupted him. “You won’t burn anything if you’re under a vampire’s charm. The most important thing is to create a mental defence. Don’t trust the strangers here. Assume that everyone is a vampire, and your mind will recognize if they try something weird. Never let them catch you off guard. Vampires, especially in towns, won’t attack directly. They want to remain hidden. Remember that, and you should be okay.”

Silence stretched on from there. For the rest of the way, Natsu kept thinking if he really enjoyed burning people alive, or if Gray had been exaggerating. And no, he didn’t get aroused in any way from doing so.

The road led them to the edge of a town. There wasn’t a gate or walls surrounding the town, only two guards standing posted to the sides of the road. They stopped there for a moment to wait for the Companion to catch up with them. She had been exceptionally silent, but Natsu found that relieving. He didn’t have the nerves to deal with both Gray and Erza today. Damn it, how he missed travelling just with Lucy.

Natsu looked around at the town. There was a Jarl’s longhouse on the left side of the main, cobblestoned street. From there, the streets were actually wooden planks lined up as paths between the houses. The town was built on a swamp, and falling from a path meant a very cold bath in the salty ponds of water. Boats were anchored by the docks, as most of the townspeople were fishers, rowing into the marshlands each day to catch some fish and crabs.

“So, Gray, your mother lives here in Morthal?” Erza asked as she reached them.

“Yeah. Adoptive mother, to be exact. My brother, again, adoptive, takes care of her. He’s a total dick, but my mother will let you stay for a night, if I tell her you’re with the College,” Gray explained. Natsu couldn’t help but think that maybe being a dick was a family flaw in their case. “But please, try not to bother her. She’s sick.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Lucy asked, her tone considerate and warm. It still amazed Natsu how she could be so forgiving and caring. After everything that happened yesterday, and how lowly he had talked about her this morning, she still didn’t consider him as a fiend.

“It’s a long story,” Gray sighed as he gestured at them to move forward. “She doesn’t have long to live. She might get through the next winter, if we’re lucky.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Was the damn ice worm begging for some sympathy points from Lucy? Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray lead them onward on the darkened streets, until they arrived at a familiar door. And the moment Natsu saw it, he wanted to turn around and run. Gray knocked on the door, and Natsu stepped back, behind Lucy and Erza, almost hoping no one would notice if he left.

Right when Gray knocked again, the door opened.

“Oh, you. I thought it was Falion asking for some Daedra hearts, for the thousandth time this week,” said a fair-haired young man from the doorway. Then his eyes found the three others standing behind Gray. “You’ve got company?”

Gray nodded. “Met a few fellow apprentices on my way, and offered them a place to stay for a night.”

“From the College?”

“Yeah. Except that one of them is a Companion, though.”

The man hesitated for a moment, but then stepped aside from the doorway. Gray followed him in, and so did Erza and Lucy. She stopped at the doorstep and glanced over her shoulder, to make sure Natsu followed them too. He did, yet grimly.

“I’m Lyon, this horkerface’s brother,” the fair-haired man introduced himself. Natsu had forgotten his name, but remembered his face. It hadn’t changed that much either. “Welcome to the house.”

Natsu, the last to step into the house, closed the door behind him and stayed there, unable to move forward. All out of a sudden, he felt so frozen, taken over by a distant memory he had thought to have forgotten long ago. The house still smelled the same. Right from the entrance was an alcove for an alchemy lab, and beside it ran many shelves full of potions and ingredients. There was a counter desk in the middle of the hall, and behind it stood the stairs to the upper floor.

Nothing much had changed, indeed. The sons lived upstairs, as Natsu remembered. Gray had said they could stay in Lyon’s room for the night if he’d succeed in persuading his brother to sleep with him – or in the same room with him.

“Where’s mom?” Gray asked as he stripped his travelling cloak and placed it on the hook on the wall. A bit hesitantly, Lucy did the same, Erza and Natsu following after her. The house was warm, a pleasant change to the cold moisture in the outside air.

“The same as usual.”

Gray nodded and led the others to the quarters on the western wing of the building. If Natsu remembered correctly, the kitchen and their mother’s study was there. Awkward, he didn’t step away from the doormat – he didn’t want to proceed deeper into the memories he would so much rather forget.

“Hey, it’s you!” Lyon exclaimed suddenly, pointing at Natsu. “The boy from five years ago. I would never forget that damn hair.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Natsu answered, his sarcasm as clear as a day.

“You should go with them. Mom always wonders what happened to you. You should tell her before she dies.”

Natsu didn’t say anything as he reluctantly went after Lucy, Gray and Erza.

“Mom, I brought in some friends,” the frost mage said as he stepped into the study room. “I think you’ll recognize one of them.”

Natsu was the last to follow them in.

A bed was placed in the corner of the room, and a small table stood beside it. Three candles on the table cast faint light to the face of the figure lying in the bed. Natsu flinched. While nothing else in the place had changed during these years, nothing familiar was left of this poor, frail woman. Ur was her name. That he still remembered.

Her face had shrunken in, her skin pallid, and her hands were as thin and fragile as branches. Her once-dark hair had turned white as snow. She turned her head towards the voice, and her eyes found directly into his, but Natsu knew she didn’t see. The illness had clouded her once-bright eyes in a dingy fog.

And still, she lifted her hand, pointed her finger at him.

“You,” she mouthed a whisper, “come closer.”

Natsu swallowed, stepped closer. He walked across the room in silence and stopped by the bedside. The woman still held her hand up, and Natsu caught it. Her weak fingers curled around his, as if to make sure it was really him.

“I knew you’d come back one day,” Ur said quietly, smiling. “Well, did you find your brother, young man?”

Natsu shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

“Not yet, but you will. I feel it in my heart you’re going to find him eventually. Not a single search has ever lasted forever. They all come to an end.”

“Yeah,” Natsu whispered back. He thought for something else to say, but no words came to his mind. He just watched her as she let go of his hand and collapsed back to the bed. Slowly, she turned her head towards Lucy, her neck creaking along with the laboured movement.

“And you, out there,” she whispered, her voice becoming drained. “What is your name?”

“I’m Lucy, my lady.”

“No need for courtesies, my dear,” Ur chuckled softly, then her blind eyes found Erza. It made Natsu wonder if she could still see something, after all, or if she was just sensing their presences. “And you, brave warrior, who are you?”

“My name is Erza,” she answered.

“Thank you,” the old woman said, and then looked at Gray again. Then Natsu realised that she wasn’t truly old. She hadn’t been old five years ago, only around her forties, but now she looked like she had lived more than a hundred years. “You’ve brought many friends to our home tonight, my son. Seems like you’re finally learning.”

Gray smiled, probably the first genuine smile Natsu had seen today, or ever. “We fought together in Labyrinthian, so I offered them a place to stay.”

“I know. They’re welcome here,” Ur replied and closed her eyes. “I must rest now. I wish you all good fortune in your battles to come. Take care of each other.”

Natsu realised his hands had begun to shiver. Gray had never told him what caused Ur’s sickness, but if it had turned her to this, it was a terrifying disease indeed. There was no cure for it. When Natsu had last been here, she had been training his older son to be an alchemist. It seemed Lyon had now become one, but still hadn’t been able to heal their mother. And now, she was far beyond any salvation, just waiting for the death to come. Just like Natsu’s own mother had been.

They left the room, and Gray led them to the kitchen. A large baking oven was built to the masoned wall between two chambers, as it would keep the whole wing of the house warm. Grey picked up some clean rags from the cabinet and headed to the stove, where he placed them into a kettle filled with water. While the rags soaked, he opened the wrappings of his blood-stained robes and dropped them to the floor.

Unbothered by his topless state, Gray took a wet rag from the kettle and began to clean up the ugly grazes on his chest. At least this time there was an actual reason for him to get undressed. Most often, there wasn’t.

“Anyone else wounded?” Gray asked, glancing over his shoulder to the rest of the group. Lucy had been nervously looking at the kettle for a while now, trying her best to avoid staring at the frost mage’s bruised, naked chest. “Natsu, you’d better take care of that cut in your head. Your hand looks kinda nasty, too.”

Natsu didn’t have time to react before Gray picked another rag, squeezed out the excess water and tossed it at his face. He mumbled a faint curse as the warm, wet cloth hit his cheek. Annoyed, he caught it, turned away and wiped the dried blood off his forehead. He had forgotten about that already, and just wondered why his head kept hurting so much. Then he cleaned the bite mark on the back of his right hand, the hot water stinging on the broken skin. 

“You girls hurt?” Gray continued while wrapping linen strips around his wounds. Erza and Lucy shook their heads. Gray answered with a nod as he went to put the bloody rag into a barrel. When he came back, Natsu followed his example.

Gray pulled one of the chairs from under the table, tapped Lucy on the lower back to urge her to sit down, making her flinch. “Take a seat, everyone, I’ll ask my brother to fetch us something to eat,” Gray said, and walked to the door. “Lyon! Come serve our guests a meal.”

Natsu stared at the frost mage and seated next to Lucy. She was blushed, nervous, yet still somehow unbothered. From what Natsu had understood, she had been good friends with some Nord guys from her hometown, so maybe she had, unfortunately, gotten used to this kind of behaviour. It made him mad, but it wouldn’t be polite to punch a man in his own home, at his own table, after being invited as a guest. He’d save that steam for when they’d be out of the damn house.

“What am I, a servant?” asked Lyon annoyedly as he arrived.

“Yes, you are, darling. Fetch some wine, too.”

They sat around a round table as Lyon, though reluctantly, filled four plates with cabbage stew and poured four cups of wine. He brought them to the table and stood there for a moment, until Gray shoved him away.

“You can go now,” he said. “We have things to talk about.”

Gray followed his brother to the door, closed it, and cast a faint spell on the wood. A flash of green light enveloped the walls of the room, then faded.

“What was that?” Erza asked.

“I muffled the walls. Nothing that is said here will be heard from the outside. An Illusion spell,” Gray explained and glanced at Natsu. “Useful when it comes to keeping things secret, because I like living. So, everyone, please enjoy your meal.”

As they ate in perfect silence, Natsu began to wonder what point there was in casting such a spell if no-one was going to say anything. He swirled his spoon in the cabbage, finding his appetite completely gone.

His thoughts circled around Gray’s mother. She might not have been his biological mother, but she was still very close with her adopted sons. Ur had once been a scholar in the College of Winterhold, but quit a wizard’s life after getting ill. She had been exceptionally good in her prime days, as Natsu had heard from Igneel, who had been one of Ur’s students. It was such a pity that the world was losing another great mage.  

“There’s one thing I have to talk with you, Natsu,” Gray started after a silence, his mouth full of cabbage. “What you did in Labyrinthian –“

Natsu sipped his wine, his food still untouched. “Saved our lives. No need to thank me.”

“ – was reckless. Absolutely foolish, out of control. You acted from your anger, not from the real mastery of magic – mastery of yourself. Your rage cast that spell, not you. And you know what happens to mages who let their emotions control their magic?” Gray sneered and swallowed. “You guessed right, they die.”

Natsu could barely believe what he just heard. Did Gray really have the guts to mock him for what he did? He raised his eyes from the wine cup to the frost mage. “And who're you to tell me how to use my magic?”

“Listen to me. I know damn well you used everything you got into that one shot. That’s one of the principles a mage should never do. You have to spare your magicka, balance your attacks, so that you don’t run out of it on the most crucial moment,” Gray said and took a long gulp of his drink. “Because what if you had missed?”

“I knew I wouldn’t miss,” Natsu answered. He squeezed his hand around the cup. If he hadn’t cast that spell, the dragon would’ve killed them all. Gray knew that very well himself. This lecture was as useless as it was stupid.

“Yeah, but what if you did?” Gray repeated, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “You even improvised that spell, too, didn’t you? You had no idea how it would work. You risked everything for something which could’ve blown up on our faces.”

“And what would’ve you done? Got any better ideas?” Natsu asked, his voice rising with his anger. “At that moment, I was the only one of us who could fight. I did what I had to do.”

“And why was that? Where were you even for the most of that battle?”

Natsu pressed his mouth into a thin line. Lucy glanced at him, as if she had been wondering the same thing. He had never told her why it took him so long to rejoin the battle.

“Stuck in a fucking burial crypt with a group of Draugr,” he answered then.

Gray laughed. “And how the fuck did you get in there!?”

“The dragon destroyed a part of the town where we were at,” Lucy commented, jumping in for Natsu’s defence. “We were separated, as the collapsed gate blocked the way. He was probably just trying to find a way out –“

Gray turned his eyes at Natsu. “You stupid piece of shit. Separated? We were almost killed meanwhile! I had to save Lucy from the dragon’s frost breath while you –“ Natsu tried to retort, but Gray interrupted him in an instant. “What if I hadn’t been there? What if I was already dead? She would’ve died, too!”

“No, she wouldn’t,” the fire mage finally managed to say. “She’s a lot stronger than you think. She can take care of herself.”

Lucy looked down at her plate, making him know she didn’t trust his words. Damn it. Natsu hadn’t seen what had happened while he was stuck in the crypt, and it seemed the battle hadn’t gone so well as he had thought.

“If you truly think that, you’re bullshitting yourself, and her. She’s a novice. Just a novice, even though she’s the Dragonborn,” Gray said. Natsu shuddered, remembering saying the same words to her himself, but it was so long ago. “I bet you’re supposed to look after her, and what did you do? You left her alone. You got separated from her, and just thought she’d somehow make it. And guess what, genius, she wouldn’t have. You would’ve found her as a frozen statue once you would’ve gotten out of that fucking crypt.”

Natsu went silent as Gray slammed his palm to the table.

“And I could see that you’re the one who taught her magic. Because she’s just as reckless as you in a battle. You’ve barely taught her the mere basics of –”

“Gray,” Lucy interrupted harshly. She had eaten only a few spoonfuls before Natsu and Gray had started arguing, and now she wasn’t eating at all. “That’s enough. That is my responsibility. He has taught me to be careful. He really has. The recklessness, well… that’s just me overestimating my power. I’m working on that.”

“Who are you to say, anyway?” Natsu asked him, unable to hide the utter annoyment in his voice. “Heading to dangerous ruins just to kill a horde of frost trolls?”

“I'm a man who has actually studied magic, not just fucked around causing a mess. I've trained. Read. I understand what it truly means to be a mage. You're just... you're just pretending to know what you're doing.”

Natsu closed his eyes for a second and held his fingers in the bridge of his nose, taking a very deep breath to keep his rage in chains. “I know pretty damn well what I'm doing.”

“No, you don't. You've survived this far because you're gifted. Just like your brother. But because you're gifted, you think you don't need to train like the others, and that's as far as the gift can take you.” Gray paused and pointed at himself. “I was raised by a scholar. I've practised the simplest spells a thousand times. I don't have a single crumb of talent myself, but I’m devoted to magic, and that's why I'm stronger than you. And that’s why I will live longer than you. And if she keeps following your example, she's gonna –“

“You should shut up already, man. I have trained. We have trained –”

“See, you’ve forgotten to teach her the most important fucking thing, which is self-discipline. But how could you teach it when you can't even do it yourself? Just as Igneel didn't,” Gray said scornfully and drank a mouthful of wine. “And that got him killed.”

Mentioning Igneel was simply too much, yet still, he had had a similar kind of a conversation before. It had been with Erza. It seemed that his enemies were very gifted in picking up his weakest spot. It took a lot of self-discipline not to burn this fucking man to death, right fucking now.

“No, it was the damn Imperials –“

“The real mastery of magic takes years, decades of dedicated study, and what have you been doing all this time? You could've been as good as your brother if you just focused on the right things instead of burning stuff and drinking mead for the last five years,” Gray sighed. “You can’t control yourself, and you can’t control your magic, and that’s why it’s going to destroy you.”

Natsu glared at him from under his brows. “The only thing that’s going to get destroyed is your face if you don’t shut up now.”

“In your dreams, bitch. You know that’s true. But I’m not going to let you destroy her, too. She’s the Dragonborn, Natsu. She needs a better teacher than a runt like you,” Gray said and sighed, tapping the side of his wine mug with his finger. “That’s why I’m coming with you to Ustengrav.”

And then, Natsu’s mind exploded.

“No, you fucking aren’t,” he muttered quietly after a moment of shocked silence. He kept staring at Gray in disbelief, shaking his head. He knew he’d snap at any moment if Gray wouldn’t take that insanity back.

“Yes, I am.”

Natsu glanced at Lucy, terrified, but couldn’t say anything. If Lucy would’ve opposed the idea as strongly as he did, she would’ve already said it. She was still looking at her plate, leaning her chin to her closed fist, deep in her thoughts. Natsu cursed internally. She was considering Gray’s offer. Even Erza, as stone-cold and silent as she was, didn’t show any signs of disagreeing.

“You, Natsu, are very skilled at Destruction indeed. I’ll give you that,” Gray continued, his tone more confident now. Mocking, almost, knowing he was winning. “But what do you know of Alteration or Illusion? Restoration? What spells can you cast in those schools of magic?”

 “Candlelight,” Natsu named silently. Fuck it, he thought. “Healing. Steadfast Ward.”

Gray extended his arm, and pulled an apple from the basket through the air. It landed on his open palm. “Can you do this?” he asked, and then threw the apple at Natsu. Natsu caught it and turned it into ashes as he closed his hand into a fist. The ash slipped through his closed fingers.

“Fucking bragger,” he mumbled.

“Can you detect life? Turn undead? Trap a soul? Reanimate a corpse?”

Natsu bit his tongue. ‘And what would you do if I decided to burn this house to the ground? Reanimate the corpses, including yourself?’ he thought, but didn’t say it. “I can reanimate a corpse, I just don’t like to do that.”

“You know what, that’s your fucking issue. You only do the things you like to do, in other words, play with fire, and don’t even bother to learn anything else. You’re lazy, rock-headed –“

“I haven’t wasted my time practicing some useless spells I’d never need!”

Natsu hoped the soundproofing spell hadn’t expired yet, because he simply couldn’t stop yelling.

“But she could need such spells,” Gray answered with a smug grin. “This isn’t about you, you selfish prick, it’s about her, and the fate of the whole world. Give it to your hands, and you’re just going to watch it burn.” He paused for a while, glancing at Lucy. “At least hear her out on this matter. It’s her decision, not yours.”

No matter how he tried, Natsu just couldn’t see it. He couldn’t even imagine being able to stand Gray’s presence any longer than was absolutely necessary. His blood was already boiling. Lucy had to know that. She just couldn’t –

“Natsu…” Lucy started suddenly. The way she avoided looking into him made Natsu very nervous, and then his heart fell. “I think he’s right. He… He could also teach me. He should come to Ustengrav with us. I need to learn all the magic I possibly can, and you, well…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Natsu mumbled, dragging his hands down his face.

“It’s for the –“

He raised his voice again. “I’m not stepping into any fucking crypt with that arrogant, perverted bastard –”

“Let’s give him a chance!” Lucy shouted over him. “What he said is true. He saved me in Labyrinthian –”

“No fucking way. I’m not going to –”

“Then it’s your choice,” Erza interrupted him after being silent for the entire conversation. Natsu cast her another murderous glare. Natsu didn’t want to think that the three Nords were teaming up against him, but it was beginning to feel like it. At least like he was being replaced.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Natsu whispered, shaking his head. “You can’t seriously be considering taking him –“

Suddenly, Lucy’s eyes turned cold, and that shut him up. “I’ve already made my decision. He comes with us, like it or not.”

Completely stunned, Natsu stared at all of them in silence. Gray was smiling, that damned bastard. This was what he wanted, and Natsu doubted his intentions were pure. They never were.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know what,” he said then and stood up from the table, his meal still untouched. He wanted to take the damn plate and toss it at the frost mage’s face, but didn’t, just to prove he had some self-discipline. “I’m too fucking tired, and not drunk enough for this shit. Fuck you, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He marched to the door, and the moment he laid his fingers on the knob, the soundproofing was dispelled. He heard someone rising from the table too, and quiet footsteps followed him to the hallway.

“Natsu, wait,” Lucy whispered, tugging him from the sleeve of his robes. “Where are you going?”

He yanked his arm away, and picked up his cloak from the hook on the wall, forced to turn towards Lucy as he dressed into it. “To the inn for a drink. Ain’t nowhere else to go in this gods-forsaken town.”

“But –”

Natsu didn’t stay to hear her out. He knew she would’ve persuaded him to stay, but right now, he just couldn’t. He had to get out, cool his head, and then he could think about it – otherwise, he would really burn the whole house down. Natsu stepped out of the door and slammed it shut behind him, finding himself alone on the cold, dark street.

And in that instant, he regretted it.

Would Lucy now think he had abandoned her, against everything he had promised just last night? He wouldn’t leave her alone, never, not for a too long while at least, but had he just left her there with them, with Gray? The chilly night air brushed gently against his overheated nerves, and he understood how stupid it all had been. But, going back to the house immediately would look even more foolish. Natsu glanced over his shoulder to the closed door behind him, almost, just almost knocking on it, but faltered.

He walked through the dim pathways, trying to remember where the inn was. A lone guard passed by him, but he didn’t ask for directions, for he had absolutely no energy left for talking. All he needed was sleep. Sleep, and some mead or wine to help with that. As he had spent the last night watching over Lucy as she had screamed in her sleep, he hadn’t gotten an eyeful for himself. Who would watch over her nightmares tonight, if he was to stay in the inn instead of with her?

Now only angry at himself, Natsu kicked a stone into the swamp right below the wooden pathway. He heard it fall into the water – a familiar sound, as he had once been throwing rocks into the same swamp with his brother. Strange, how some small things came back to him, at moments like this. Lonely moments, he recalled. He had been doing that a lot on his own after Zeref had been gone.

Finally, Natsu found himself at the inn’s door. He stepped into the warm tavern, found a few other patrons there, paid them no attention as he headed straight to the bar counter. A dark-skinned Redguard woman kept the inn, and she didn’t look too busy tonight. Natsu searched for his coin purse from his pockets, but didn’t find it. Then he went through his knapsack, and it wasn’t there either. Damn it, he cursed silently. Most of their gold was now under Lucy’s possession, leaving him with only a few septims on the bottom of the bag.

“What can I get for you, sir?” the woman asked patiently.

Natsu tossed the coins to the innkeeper. “All the wine I can get with this.”

The innkeeper counted the septims, picked a bottle from below the desk, and passed it to him. Natsu just nodded as thanks, then headed to a table. He hadn’t had enough gold to rent a room for the night, but such things often took care of themselves. Wouldn’t be the first time he had slept on the floor of the common hall of some dusty inn.

Sighing deeply, he rested his head into his hands and closed his eyes. Why couldn’t things just once go right for him? Sometimes, when shit like Gray joining their team happened, he began to think that maybe he was cursed. Some said he was lucky, blessed by the gods, but that wasn’t true. He was fucking cursed by all the evil Daedric Princes combined, he was now sure of it.

Just as Natsu opened the wine bottle and took the first sip of the sour, red drink, someone approached him from the right side.

“Well, aren’t you a handsome one,” said the stranger, a dark-haired woman in a rather revealing, green dress. “You and I should spend some time together.”

Not this shit again.

“Hey, leave me alone,” Natsu muttered, knowing his next warning wouldn’t be so friendly. He rubbed his forehead with his left hand, and placed the other one on the table, squeezing it into a fist. “I’d really like to drink at peace.”

The woman smiled. “Come on. I like those with a little… fire in their blood.”

Just when Natsu was about to say something very harsh about fire and blood, he felt a soft touch on the back of his right hand. The woman traced her fingers over the wound, her touch stinging the edges of his broken skin. On the very edge of punching her to the stomach, Natsu turned his gaze to her face.

As he saw those gleaming amber eyes, he froze completely, and then everything was dark.

Chapter Text

The slam of the door rang in Lucy’s ears as she stood there, staring at the empty place where Natsu had just been, unable to comprehend he had actually left.

Fuck you, and I’ll see you tomorrow!

He had been so angry Lucy doubted he would willingly see them tomorrow, if not at all. Lucy tried to trust that he had just gone to calm his overheated nerves, as he often did. He needed a moment alone, but would he even come back this time? Had this been the last straw for him? Part of her wanted to rush after him, talk this through, but she knew it was best to let things cool down for a while.

“Just as I guessed, he couldn’t take the truth,” Gray said as he walked into the dark entry hall. Lucy glanced at him over her shoulder, and wanted to slap that arrogance out of his face. “What you’re going through is a huge responsibility, and this just proves he’s not ready for it.”

“I think you should have been kinder on him,” Lucy answered, gloomily glaring at him. He was still shirtless, only wearing brown leather trousers, and that made her awkward.

“Kinder?” Gray snorted. “Nothing in this world will be achieved through kindness. You’ve got to be harsh if you want to change anything. Vulnerability is a liability. No place for it in this life.”

Lucy shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Gray’s brother, Lyon, was organizing the alchemy ingredients in the alcove, and confusedly observed the quarrel. Gray gestured towards the kitchen. Hesitating at first, she decided to follow him. Her appetite was gone, and she wasn’t sure if it would return. She hated conflicts. They wrapped her into cold iron chains and locked her tight into misery, until she’d be released with the keys of reconciliation.

Lucy seated back to her place and reluctantly picked up the spoon. The food Lyon had served had been good, or well, as good as cabbage stew could be. Natsu hadn’t eaten anything, so Gray, already finished with his meal, switched the places of the full and the empty plate and began eating.

“Don’t worry, Lucy. He’s going to come back,” Erza reassured as if she was reading her thoughts. “If he came back after our quarrel in the Rift, then he’s going to come back now, too.”

Lucy chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, except that time he barged into our room right when we girls were getting dressed.”

“He did?” Gray laughed and sipped some of his wine, swallowing loudly. “Lucky bastard.”

Lucy paid him an annoyed glare. She was getting pissed off at this damned man. He should really learn when to shut up. “It was an accident.”

“As if,” Gray answered with a grin. “Anyway, I’m fine if Natsu isn’t coming with us. That sounded pretty much like it. He could go home or something. He lived somewhere nearby, didn’t he?”

Lucy bit her lip and swirled the cabbage with her spoon. “I don’t think he’s going to go home…”

They hadn’t talked about that after leaving High Hrothgar. Actually, as they arrived here, Lucy had wondered if Natsu had been to Morthal before. His home had indeed been nearby, but he had made it clear he wouldn’t pay a visit there. The son was dead to the father, and the father was dead to the son.

“He was thrown out, right?” Gray asked.

“No, he ran away.”

“Oh, that was it.”

Lucy looked at him for a moment, knitting her brows. “How did you know, anyway?”

“We had met before,” Gray told after finishing his plate. Lucy had barely batted her eyes, and he had already eaten everything. “And I bet he didn’t tell you.”

“He didn’t,” Lucy replied, and finally ate a spoonful of the stew. It had gone cold.

“Well, around five years ago, one summer morning, I found him on the docks. He had probably been sleeping there, and I can’t say I was exactly the kindest to him. Something I said pissed him off bad time. He went pretty berserk, nearly killed me with his bare hands. My mother heard the commotion and came to check it out, and broke the fight with the help of a guard. Then she dragged both of us home for scolding.”

Lucy swallowed the cold cabbage she’d been chewing on endlessly. “Five years ago? That could be when…”

While she put the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind, Gray continued. “I had never seen her so mad. Of course, she was angry at him for beating me, but she was angry at me for provoking him. But she’s a fine, good woman, and quickly realised something was wrong. She kinda had to force it out of that Breton boy, but he eventually told he had run away from home.”

“That was right when his mother had died,” Lucy said. Natsu had never told her what happened after that. She just knew he had left home, and eventually wound up at the College. What happened in between was shrouded in dark.

Gray lifted his brows, rubbing his chin. “Oh? Well, I didn’t know that. No wonder he was so grumpy then. For such a scrawny little half-elf, he punches quite hard.”

“What exactly did you say to him?”

Gray fell silent for a while. “If I remember right, I might’ve said something like ‘What’s a milk-drinker like you doing out here? Go home to your mother.’ Well, now that I think of it, might not have been one of my smartest ideas…”

Lucy scoffed. “No wonder he beat you up.”

“Yeah, think I deserved that one,” Gray answered, and stared at his wine cup before continuing his story. A hint of regret flickered in his eyes, but only for a while. “But well, mom recognized him as Zeref’s little brother. She had heard that he had gone missing, and now that Natsu had decided to go look for him, mother wanted to help him. I was so pissed off, because he had just beat me bloody, and she just said that would teach me to keep my mouth shut. Mom allowed him to stay here for a night, fed him, gave him my old shoes and a little bit of gold for his journey.”

Lucy nodded, the pieces of the past finally falling into place. Knowing this explained a lot, but she could also understand why he hadn’t told her about it. His mother’s death had been, and still was, a raw wound. Giving him shit about it just a few days after it had happened was a certain way to get on his list of enemies. Natsu seemed like a man who relied a lot on the first expression, and Gray had totally nailed that. Changing that afterwards would be difficult.

“When did you join the College, Gray?” Lucy asked, swiftly changing the subject a little. She didn’t want to talk more about Natsu behind his back.

Gray, seemingly sensing her attempt, shrugged nonchalantly and answered, “When I turned sixteen. It was two years after that incident. He wasn’t so happy to see me when I arrived at the College.”

She had expected that. “What made you decide you wanted to go there?”

Gray poured himself another cup of wine. “It’s a long story, but now that the outsiders have taken themselves out, bet I could tell that to some fine fellow Nords.”

He filled Lucy’s and Erza’s cups too, but Lucy couldn’t help but begrudge how he called Natsu an outsider. Gray didn’t even attempt to hide how he discriminated everyone who wasn’t a Nord, and it offended Lucy. Natsu was her friend, after all, and the reminisce of elven blood wouldn’t change that.

“It starts with my mother’s sickness,” Gray began. “You remember when I told you she’s from Solstheim?”

Lucy nodded, concealing her growing annoyment. She inwardly cursed at herself for being taught to be a proper lady. For once, she just wanted to scream and cuss, let that frustration out, but she stayed silent and listened. There was very little she knew about Solstheim and the people who lived there. The only thing she knew was that the island was located somewhere between Skyrim and Morrowind, amidst the frozen Sea of Ghosts.

“She’s from the village of Skaal. The Skaal people rarely leave their homelands, but she did. She wanted to see the world and learn magic, and so she left, and joined the College of Winterhold. There was another reason behind that, too. A monster haunted the island of Solstheim, and my mother had gotten into her head that she would be the one to defeat that.”

“What kind of a monster?” Erza asked.

“I’m coming to that,” Gray said and drank more wine. “She became a very talented mage, but life was rough for her. She lost her daughter, but she still kept pushing forward. She trained ever harder, until she thought she was ready to defeat the monster. Karstaag was the name. A frost giant, terrifyingly strong.” He paused for a while, as if gathering the threads of the story, making sure he told it right. “Ur returned to Solstheim and battled against the beast. However, she wasn’t strong enough. She was defeated, barely escaped with her life, but was cursed with this disease that has been slowly consuming her. Somehow she knew it would take ten years for the illness to kill her, and it has been nine years already. She’s soon going to die.”

Lucy fell silent. She noticed how Gray used the word cursed to define how Ur had gotten ill. That’s how it felt to Lucy, too. Such a talented wizard reduced to the fragile shell she had just seen… that could only be a curse. When she or Erza didn’t say anything, Gray decided to continue.

“Don’t be fooled to feel bad for her, though. She’s still a Nord of Skaal at heart,” Gray said and smiled, but there was only sadness in that smile. “Their religion is quite different from ours. For the Skaal, the All-Maker is the source of all life and creation. When a creature dies, its spirit returns to the All-Maker, who shapes it into something new and returns it to Mundus. The concept of death as an ending to life is unknown to the Skaal. Rather, death is seen as simply the beginning of the next stage of an endless journey.”

Lucy blinked her eyes, sudden interest taking over her. “Really? So they are born again after death? I haven’t even heard of that before.”

“To put it simply, yes. After they die, their soul is reshaped and returned to the world. They could become a bird or a wolf, or just human again. That way, they never feel the fear of death,” Gray explained. “Ur never pushed her beliefs to us, though. She allowed me and Lyon to keep our Nine Divines when she adopted us.”

Lucy nodded. She wasn’t sure how to feel about such a never-ending cycle of life. She found the thought of reuniting with dead relatives in Aetherius more comforting. “How did she become your mother, then?”

“Two years after the defeat, she had to quit her life as a scholar. The illness was slow to show any symptoms, but first, it robbed her of her magicka. She moved from Winterhold to Morthal. During that time, she adopted two boys, me and Lyon, from Honorhall Orphanage at Riften. I had been there for a year after my parents died. They went fishing, a storm hit the sea, and they never came back.”

Lucy raised her eyes from the plate to the frost mage, and suddenly, the resentment she felt towards him faded. Gray was around her age, maybe a year or two older, so he had been ten or eleven when he lost his parents. When they had talked in the College, he had let her know they were dead, she just didn’t know when, or how. Maybe it was the aid of wine that opened him up.

Now that she thought of it, Natsu and Gray had a lot in common. For tonight, Lucy had observed the amounts of wine Gray had consumed, and it just reminded her of the same thing she had said to Natsu when they had just met. When a man is sad, they grab a bottle and deny they're sad.

“Sorry for your loss,” Lucy said silently.

Gray just shrugged. “I hated being adopted by a scholar first. While her magicka was just a fracture of what it used to be, she was still good. My parents taught me to despise magic, but soon I realised the power it holds. It grew into me, and I grew into it,” he said, then glanced at Lucy. “Eventually, I decided to pick up where Ur left, and do what she couldn’t do. I’m going to defeat Karstaag. No matter what. That’s what I’m training for.”

Lucy blinked her eyes. A lot of things about him made sense now. “That’s… That’s an honourable goal, indeed, to defeat such a monster. But what happened to the giant after Ur was defeated? Is he still wreaking havoc on Solstheim?”

“Ur managed to seal him away, but how long he’ll stay in that place, can’t be known. I hope he stays there until I’m ready to go beat his ass out of existence,” Gray chuckled, confident. “Yet still, Ur thinks of me as a fool because of that. Karstaag inflicted her with her disease, and she fears I’d suffer the same fate, still unable to defeat him. But I know I will. I’ve decided so.”

“So, that’s why you’re training your frost resistance?”

Gray grinned. “Exactly.”

“Seems like you’ve already mastered that,” Erza commented. She hadn’t said much after Labyrinthian, and Lucy had been wondering what was going through her mind. But she was terrified of dragons, after all, and perhaps that fear still lingered. “Even as a Nord, surviving a direct hit of frost dragon’s breath attack was pretty tough.”

“It’s all about endurance to the cold. It’s simple. The next time a snowstorm hits, get undressed and step outside. Just stand there in a blizzard, focus on breathing, and your body will do the rest.”

Erza rubbed her chin. “Intriguing.”

“I still would rather not do that…” Lucy muttered, and already shivered at the thought.

While Erza and Gray continued the discussion about frost resistance, Lucy tried to finish her meal. As her worst anger towards Gray had faded, she began thinking of Natsu. Somehow she knew that if those two would just talk civilly, man to man, they could solve this ridiculous conflict, with a very small possibility of them becoming friends, or at least tolerating each other’s presence on earth. It didn’t matter which one of them would be a better teacher for her. She didn’t want to surround herself with capable warriors, but with friends she could rely on.

Lucy put the spoon on her plate. She had managed to eat half of the stew, but couldn’t force any more down. They were supposed to leave at sunrise, yet Lucy knew she wouldn’t get any rest until she had talked with Natsu. She had to at least know he was okay. She wasn’t going to leave him behind. 

“I think we should check on Natsu,” she said suddenly. Erza and Gray stopped talking and turned their eyes on her.

“Why?” Gray asked. “He can take care of himself. If he can’t, well, that’s too bad. Only the strong survive here –”

“Go ahead,” Erza interrupted the frost mage, and smiled at Lucy. “He’s probably just getting wasted at the inn, but if you feel like it, go check if he’s okay.”

“I’ll try to talk some sense into his head,” Lucy said and turned to Gray. “And no, we are not going to Ustengrav without him.”

Gray attempted to say something, but Lucy already stood up from the table and left the kitchen. She had already made her mind on this matter, and wouldn’t falter.

“Be careful,” Erza hollered after her while she was putting on her travelling cloak. Lucy wrapped herself into the warm fur, and answered,

“I’ll be back soon.”

There was a little lie in that, and Lucy trusted Erza knew that.

Morthal was truly an ominous town at night.

At Helgen, Lucy was rarely allowed to be outside after nightfall. Sometimes she had sneaked out with Loke, but it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Morthal was. Thick fog had shrouded this town into a veil of gloom and mystery, and the dead, leafless trees fortified the impression. She began to shiver from the cold as she stood on the doorstep, wondering where to go.

Lucy headed out in the darkness, seeing nothing but the light of torches passing through the night. Guards on patrol. She waited for one of them to walk by her, and then she asked where the inn was. The given directions made her feel a bit stupid, for the inn was just two houses away, but she thanked anyway and went there, careful not to fall into the swamp on her way.

Warmth embraced her as she stepped into the smoky tavern. There wasn’t much life in there. An Orc bard played the lute and sang a raspy melody so terribly Lucy wouldn’t be surprised if that ‘singing’ would get his throat cut. Then there was a brown-haired woman sitting around a table, talking to someone, and Lucy’s heart dropped when she saw who that someone was.

Natsu.

Silently, Lucy walked across the inn, right past him, yet he didn’t notice her. Strange unease spreading in her chest, she walked to the bar counter and rented herself a room for a night. She had been supposed to stay at Gray’s house, but to be honest to herself, she felt more comfortable here. Erza must’ve sensed her discomfort, so maybe she’d understand her decision and not get worried when she wouldn’t get back there tonight. Lucy bought herself a cup of tea with milk, and went to sit on a table on the opposite side of the common hall.

While she was glad to have found him there, something was off. She could sense that. Lucy peeked over her shoulder, saw him staring into the woman’s eyes as she talked to him. Lucy couldn’t hear what she was saying from the bard’s horrible singing, but then she realised how quietly the woman talked. She doubted even Natsu would hear that, yet he still listened, without saying anything.

From what Lucy had understood, it wasn’t uncommon for women to approach him. It had happened in Fort Amol, yet back then he had made it rather clear he didn’t want anything. Maybe he was too tired to care, having exhausted all of his energy at yelling at Gray, and was now just numbed out? He looked dazed, tired, like he was falling asleep at the table.

Lucy turned her eyes to the woman. She was pretty. She wore a golden necklace, but what caught Lucy’s attention was the rather open cleavage of her dress, leaving her intentions just as exposed as her breasts. Of course, she was trying to seduce him. Lucy frowned, forced herself to take a cup of the bitter tea as she began to wonder how this scene would play out. She was, indeed, curious to see if Natsu would actually have this side of him that she knew nothing about.

Still, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

Or was she jealous?

No, she couldn’t be.

Then, suddenly, the woman rose up, and Natsu followed her, as if they’d made a common decision to leave the place. He even left his bottle to the table, and in that instant, Lucy understood that Natsu would never leave the inn with a stranger and his drink undrunk.

Right when they headed to the door, Lucy stood up and rushed to Natsu. She blurted out the very first excuse that came to her mind,

“Hey, have you completely forgotten about your wife and children in High Rock!?”

As if some spell was broken, his dazed gaze cleared up and focused on her. “Oh, hi Lucy!”

Confused, Natsu stared at her, almost like he had just woken up from a deep sleep. He didn’t seem to understand where he was, or why, and the dumbfounded expression on his face told her that he didn’t understand why Lucy was there either. Well, she wasn’t supposed to be there, but he wasn’t angry at it, just merely surprised. The bard had briefly stopped singing in the background, but carried on before the mood in the inn got too tight.

“Excuse my cousin,” Lucy said to the stranger, caught Natsu from the sleeve and dragged him backwards to gain distance. Only then Natsu noticed the woman he had been standing next to. His brows knit into a deep drown as Lucy forced him to face her, and hissed, “What in the name of Mara were you thinking? Have you completely forgotten about them? Have some damn respect for your family, man.”

Lucy struggled to maintain her act as Natsu kept blinking. “W-wait, what was I thinking? I –” he stuttered, glanced at the woman again, and shook his head. “Who have I forgotten?”

“Just shut up,” Lucy shushed at him, then left him at the door of the room she had rented, and then hurried back to the stranger. “I’m sorry, but he’s rather –“

When she saw her eyes, she froze. They gleamed in a faint amber glow, and Lucy forced herself to look away. She lowered her gaze down onto the woman’s chest, preferring to stare at her cleavage instead of those captivating eyes, and then she understood what kind of a spell Natsu had fallen under.

A vampire’s charm.

“Oh, I see,” the woman said and chuckled. She sounded confident, as if knowing this was only a small delay in getting what she wanted. Then she looked past Lucy and winked at Natsu, making her shiver in rage. “We’ll meet again, sweetie. See you later.”

When the vampire excused herself and left the inn, Lucy squeezed her trembling hands into fists. This was exactly what Gray had warned them about, yet Natsu had still fallen into that trap. He had left his guard down. Maybe Gray’s lecture had been in place, after all. As confused as ever, the fire mage scratched the back of his head, and went to pick up the wine bottle he had left on the table. Before he seated down, Lucy marched to him, grabbed his arm and dragged him to her room.

“Okay, what was that all about?” Natsu asked her as she slammed the door shut and locked it.

There was a lantern on the nightstand, but Lucy didn’t bother to light it. She cast magical Candlelight to hover in the air above them. Not wasting time on explanations, Lucy caught his white scarf and pulled it away from his neck, dropped it to the floor, quickly doing the same to his cloak. His eyes widened as she placed her hands on his jaws, turning his head into different directions while studying his skin under the light.

Utterly confused, possibly a bit scared too, Natsu lifted his arms into a half surrender, still holding the wine bottle in his left hand. “W-what are you doing!?”

“Checking you for scratches,” Lucy answered, but as she began to move aside his robes, he caught her wrists and made her stop.

“Scratches? What the fuck?”

“The woman was a vampire. They say that if a vampire scratches you, you'll turn into one.” As he loosened the hold around her hands, Lucy writhed herself free. She wiped the hair out of his forehead and pointed at a graze on his skin. “You got his in the ruins, right?”

“Vampire?” Natsu asked, eyes widening. “Are you sure? Well, that explains something…”

Lucy nodded. There were no other wounds on his face or neck, but she checked his arms too. She pulled up the loose sleeves of his robes, seeing no other injuries than the bitemark on the back of his hand. How ironic that felt now. “There's no other way you would've gone out with a stranger and left your wine undrunk unless you were manipulated to. She used an Illusion spell on you. Charm, or something. Vampires do that.”

There was little she knew about vampires, to be exact. If there were books written about them, Lucy hadn’t read any. All she knew was the folklore she’d heard as growing up, the scary tales the children of the town used to tell each other at night. Haming had said that vampires preferred the blood of the virgins, for it had a more appealing taste to them. Lucy had later realised that it was most likely just Haming’s secret plan for luring more girls to the granary with him.

As Lucy finally let go of him, Natsu stepped back and took a long gulp from the bottle. “But why would’ve she done that?”

Shrugging, Lucy picked up the scarf and gave it back to him. Remembering Haming’s old banter, she jested, “Probably to feast on your delicious virgin blood.”

Natsu gave her a long, silent glare, his brows nearly lifted to his hairline.

“Do you even know how fucked up that sounds, considering you quite literally bit me yesterday?”

Lucy held back a small laugh as Natsu sipped the wine again. Yes, she could’ve reworded that sentence, but she too was getting way too tired for thinking clearly. Her heart was still beating fast and the nervous unease refused to leave her guts.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she defended, then became serious again. “Well, how do you feel? Are you alright?”

Natsu sat down on the bed and held his head in his hands, the neck of the wine bottle locked between his fingers. “Like my mind has been raped,” he groaned. “Can’t really describe this in any other way.”

Lucy remained silent for a while. She seated next to him on the small bed, but instead of staying on the edge, she crawled closer to the wall and rested her back against it. She brought her legs to her chest. For that very brief moment she had looked into the vampire’s eyes, she had felt like her mind was truly being intruded by an outer force, a different being. Natsu hadn’t been able to defend against that, and Lucy couldn’t even imagine how horrible that must feel. Lucy hoped with all of her heart that other than feeling terrible, he'd come out okay from this encounter with a vampire. 

“Do you even remember what happened?” Lucy asked. The Candlelight spell expired, so Lucy lit the wax candles of the lantern to give softer light to the room.

“No,” he answered with a faint headshake. “She came to me, said something, and after I looked into her eyes, all was black. Did she really try enthralling me or something? Gods, that’s disgusting.”

“Either that, or then she would’ve just drunk your blood. Maybe she was hungry. I don’t know if they actually kill their victim when they feed on people, though…”

And then it dawned on her how horribly things could’ve turned out if she hadn’t come checking on him. She was so glad she listened to her intuition instead of Gray. Her heart would always know the best.

Natsu chuckled suddenly. He lifted his head from his knees, turned towards her. “So, you're saying that if I wasn't a virgin, these bloodsuckers would leave me alone?” He rubbed his chin and eyed her from head to toes. “Hmm…”

Lucy went bloody flustered as she realised what he was thinking. “I ain’t gonna help you with that!”

“Yeah,” Natsu answered and turned away. “On a second thought… maybe not.”

Lucy’s face was burning hot. Had he really considered bedding her to get rid of his innocence for the sole purpose of being less appealing to the vampires, or had that been just a very tired joke? He had said he had no interest in such a thing, but there was, certainly, some logic behind that. Lucy knew he had this ‘friends help friends’ mindset, that wasn’t how far Lucy would take that – especially when in reality vampires most likely didn’t have such preferences over the blood they consumed.

Well, the blame was on her for assuming he wouldn’t take that joke literally.

After a long silence, Natsu took a drink from the wine bottle, and said, “What a fucking day.”

“Indeed,” Lucy agreed, and stole the bottle from his hands. She sipped the sour wine and cringed. “But this won’t make it much better.”

Natsu gazed at her quizzically. “Yeah, I know, but it helps me to sleep. Give it back.”

Lucy refused, placing the bottle closer to her. “You were planning to drink until you’d pass out? I ain’t gonna let you do that alone.”

“I think that’s a bad idea…” Natsu mumbled and reached out his hand. “Seriously, give it back.”

With an inward grin, she gave the bottle to him. “Exactly. With a damn vampire around, now isn’t a good time to get shitfaced.”

Natsu sighed. “But I just can’t fucking sleep. It’s just…” he started, but paused for taking a hesitant drink. “After all the shit I’ve seen, some days I just have to numb that down.”

Lucy smiled warmly. “I know, I know,” she said and took the bottle again, gently placing it on her lips. “I ain’t sleeping that well either.”

Natsu gave her a long glare as she downed a fair amount of wine. “Seriously.”

“I said I wouldn’t let you get shitfaced alone.”

Natsu shielded his eyes with his palm as Lucy pushed the bottle back to him. “And I really don’t want to handle drunk Lucy again.”

“Then put down the damn bottle, because I ain’t stopping this until you do,” Lucy answered. She knew very well Natsu wouldn’t want her to get drunk. Gray had served her some wine, she wouldn’t take any more without it rising to her head. She already felt a bit dizzy.

“Damn you,” he mumbled under his breath, reluctantly closed the bottle and put it on the floor.

From there on, they sat in perfect silence for a while. Lucy didn’t know what to say. While she was tired, that little incident with the vampire had agitated her nerves, and now she knew she wouldn’t fall asleep either. But maybe sitting there by Natsu’s side all night wouldn’t be so bad, especially if she considered the other alternative of what could’ve happened. He could be somewhere out there with a bleeding neck or enthralled as a vampire’s slave. Maybe this was what he preferred too, over those two choices.

But if she now knew who the vampire was, should she go tell the guards or the Jarl about that? If that vampire woman had become a menace to the town, it felt like her responsibility to tell someone. However, Lucy wasn’t sure if she wanted to get involved in this. They had a mission they should be focusing on. No time to waste.

Yet, she still had a thing she had to do – convince Natsu to accept Gray joining their team.

“By the way, Gray told me what happened here five years ago,” Lucy started and cleared her throat. The silence had lasted for long enough, and it seemed no vampires would come after them again. Lucy wanted to trust in the strength and safety of the locked door. “I guess that was right after you had left home?”

As if surprised, Natsu glanced at her. He rested his back against the wall and nodded. “I bet he also told you that I beat him up?”

Lucy chuckled. The wine had made her cheeks burn, but gladly she could still talk without slurring. “He did, but I totally understand why. He can be a total dick indeed.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Lucy smiled a bit. “He also told me about his mother’s illness. Her name was Ur, right?”

“She was Zeref’s teacher in the College. That’s why she decided to help me out when I said I was searching for him,” Natsu said. “But I never learned what was wrong with her.”

“Gray said that nine years ago, she tried to defeat a monster in Solstheim. Karstaag, a frost giant. She was defeated, and contracted that disease, or curse, or whatever it is that’s slowly sucking the life out of her,” Lucy explained. “Now Gray wants to defeat that monster. I think that… You know, he also lost his parents at a young age. He was in the terrible orphanage at Riften, the same one that Aventus Aretino was. He isn’t full of shit either. He’s just covered in it, just as you said last night.”

Natsu remained silent. Lucy struggled to read his thoughts through his face, as he blankly stared at the shadows on the wall. “So, he succeeded in begging the sympathy points from you.”

Lucy snorted. “He might be harsh, and a bully, but deep down he’s not that bad. You just have to see through that. I know we all could come along,” she said, then lowered her voice. “Especially with the frost dragon’s magic, I could need someone’s help in learning how to unlock that. And I doubt you’ll teach me any frost spells.”

“Well… you’ve got a point,” Natsu agreed. Lucy wondered if he meant that, or was just too tired to argue against it.

 “We’re all going to Ustengrav together tomorrow, right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Lucy took that as a yes. “Not really.”

Natsu chuckled and buried his face into his hands. “By Sheogorath’s beard…”

“Just sleep over it. You’re too tired to think clearly.”

“Didn’t I just say that I can’t sleep? When I close my eyes, all I can see is that damn dragon hatchling. Like I can still hear it screaming in my head as it dies,” Natsu mumbled. “Sorry. It must be worse for you than it is for me. But with that fucking vampire intruding my mind, now I just...”

“It ain’t easy for you either,” Lucy replied and went through her bag. While she didn’t know a sleep spell, she knew something else. “You still need some sleep. It’s going to be another long way to Ustengrav, and who knows what we’ll find out there. Drinking until you pass out isn’t going to make you feel any better tomorrow.”

“Any better ideas, then?” Natsu asked and glanced at the book in Lucy’s hands. “Gods, you’re gonna whack me unconscious with that?”

“No, dummy. I’ll read it to you. Whenever I had trouble falling asleep as a kid, my mother always read to me. Then I started reading for myself. Ironically, the stories were so interesting that those became the things that kept me awake,” Lucy said and smiled. “Come on, get comfortable.”

Grumpily, Natsu laid down on the bed and Lucy sat down next to him. He cringed as Lucy tucked him under the blanket. “That’s the book I found at the monastery?”

“Yes. Enjoy your tale of choice, then,” she chuckled. She placed the book in her lap, opened it and began to read out loud, keeping her voice as soft as possible. “Many people have heard the term ‘Dragonborn’ - we are of course ruled by the ‘Dragonborn Emperors’ - but the true meaning of the term is not commonly understood. For those of us in the Order of Talos, this is a subject near and dear to our hearts, and in this book I will attempt to illuminate the history and significance of those known as Dragonborn down through the ages.”

“Gods. I didn’t understand half of that. Are you gonna bore me to death?”

“Just shut up and listen,” Lucy shushed and continued. Lucy was very aware of his love for history, or rather, the lack of it. “Most scholars agree that the term was first used in connection with the Covenant of Akatosh, when the blessed St. Alessia was given the Amulet of Kings and the Dragonfires in the Temple of the One were first lit.”

She never found the time to read this book with thought. After leaving Whiterun, she had been too exhausted to read it each night when they finally camped. She had barely written any journal entries either, so she thought she should write something next morning before they’d head to Ustengrav. Otherwise, she’d forget.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to stay at Gray’s place?” Natsu asked suddenly.

“Ain’t going back there tonight. I had enough of his shit, too, so I rented this room,” Lucy told. “And yes, I know you didn’t have gold to afford your own, so unless you planned to sleep on the floor of the common hall, you can stay here.”

“Thanks.”

Lucy smiled. When scholar Mystogan had given them some gold, Lucy had taken it under her possession. Natsu had seemingly forgotten that, and had to choose between wine and bed. The wine had won.

“Akatosh, looking with pity upon the plight of men, drew precious blood from his own heart, and blessed St. Alessia with this blood of dragons, and made a covenant that so long as Alessia's generations were true to the dragon blood,” Lucy read with a quiet, steady tone. “Akatosh would endeavor to seal tight the Gates of Oblivion, and to deny the armies of Daedra and undead to their enemies, the Daedra-loving Ayleids. Those blessed by Akatosh with ‘the dragon blood’ became known more simply as Dragonborn.”

Lucy glanced at Natsu. He was staring at the lantern on the nightstand, the gentle fluttering lights dancing across his features. While he probably didn’t find the story as interesting as Lucy did, at least it had calmed him down. Back at High Hrothgar, Lucy had sometimes read for him when there had been funny parts in the books she read, so maybe his mind connected her voice to the safety of the monastery now. 

“The connection with the rulers of the Empire was thus there from the beginning - only those of the dragon blood were able to wear the Amulet of Kings and light the Dragonfires. All the legitimate rulers of the Empire have been Dragonborn - the Emperors and Empresses of the first Cyrodilic Empire founded by Alessia; Reman Cyrodiil and his heirs; and of course, Tiber Septim and his heirs, down to our current Emperor, His Majesty Pelagius Septim IV.”