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kiliinstinct · 27 days

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Chapter 30

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] Happy Birthday to me! Here's an Update! Remember to thank @phoenix-before-the-flame for their Beta work! * April Post Date: 16th As you can see, there will be only one post next month due to me taking part in Camp Nanowrimo. (Similar to Nanowrimo but shorter.) Two chapter posting will continue in May. Those Dates will Appear on the Next Update.

Gajeel knew they were coming.

Before morning hit, he expected the hurried steps and smell of angry magic tickling his nose. He would have been disappointed otherwise.

Laying in his cot with one leg over the other, he affected the perfect air of calm indifference, holding back a snort. Honestly, who in their right mind wouldn't come running after his little stunt? Getting loose was one thing, but sniffing out one of the fairy’s dragons and cornering him in his own home? Gajeel was surprised they hadn’t come sooner.

The door to his cell swung open, revealing the chief all but vibrating in waves of magical power. Sweeping through the small room, the pressure of his power rattled the cot beneath him. He resisted the shiver that traveled down his spine while gooseflesh pricked along his skin. Obstinately, he met the old man’s venomous stare with an arched brow, feigning unconcern.

He couldn't react. Not yet.

Whistling low, he pulled a grin that made his visitor’s eye twitch. A fact that brought him satisfaction as he noted the scents of others crowding the hallway. Good, so he wasn't arrogant enough to think he could handle a possible threat alone. Gajeel could respect that at least.

”Damn is this how ya' greet people in the morning?“ He asked innocently, ”if Kage pissed himself, I’m laughin’ til my lungs give out.“

”I don’t appreciate lying, boy.“ Makarov accused without preamble; His magic strengthened, flowing around the room like an ominous wind, shaking dust from the rafters as bits of broken stone rattled against the floor.

”I ain't lied since I got here.“ He replied, grin widening, ”something wrong?“

Makarov’s eyes narrowed as another wave of magic emanated from his body. It swept across the building and the fortress shuddered and creaked in its wake. Stepping inside, the rising pressure almost stole Gajeel’s breath. He leapt to his feet as the old cot groaned, legs giving way under the power being exerted as it collapsed to splintered boards.

This was more than a show of power; This was a threat.

Instinct and common sense told Gajeel to make a break for it, but he held his ground, digging his sharpened nails into his crossed arms. He stood straight. Too straight. The old chief stood before him with a presence that belied his age and size. If he noticed how stiff the metal draconis became, with pupils blown unnaturally wide, he remained silent.

“You tell me,” The old man hissed. “You seem to be under the impression that you are a guest of some sort. The chains may be gone but you know as well as I that you forfeited your freedom the moment you came within these walls.”

A crack split the stone beneath the window behind Gajeel, neither paid it any mind. Makarov continued fiercely, “ You seemed a smart enough man to understand that. And yet you took it upon yourself to slip away, stalking through the streets of my home like some sort of animal. Tracking down Lucy-”

”Calm down, old man, I ain't interested in the blondie! I told you that already!“ Gajeel retorted, swallowing thickly as the chief's magic sought to overpower him.

“ I’m here for the other one you got hangin’ outside there like a dog on a leash.” Gajeel said, catching an answering snarl to his barb. A glimpse of pink flashed before the entryway before multiple sets of arms drew him back. Underneath the shimmering pressure coming from Makarov appeared a touch of heat. It took to the air in a haze, molding with the immense pressure.

He recognized it immediately, smirking as his gaze peered through the doorway, “The pink brat’s important. Not his girl.”

”And what? Breaking free to harass him is your idea of a formal meeting?! That was outside of our agreed terms and you-”

“Agreed what?!”

Fire sparked to life just beyond Gajeel’s sight as the voices of many yelped in surprise. Their restraining hands fell away as Natsu stormed in, fists ablaze with unbridled fury. “You WANTED us to meet?“

”Natsu! I did not give the command to-“

He wouldn't hear any of it, “No! You acted like you knew nothing about what he wanted from me! and all along you were lying-”

Oh Gajeel was enjoying this- the thrum of pressure lessened and his posture relaxed considerably “Not the smartest move there, Gramps, now was it?”

Natsu turned his glare on Gajeel, yellow bleeding through those dark irises as scales pricked along the edges of his eyes. He spied the hints of darkness that speckled through the orange flames billowing from Natsu’ skin. That’s all it took? Laughter burst forth with no resistance, too pleased by the situation.

“Well well, if it ain’t the man of the hour.” Gajeel greeted with a sneer, “Didn’t take you for a snitch considering…” He let the sentence hang unfinished in the air, innocently tilting his head at the other despite the murderous intent rising in the room.

Snarling, the fiery draconis stepped forward, but Makarov threw out a hand to block his path.

“Enough!” Makarov shouted, fixing him with a stern glare that stopped him in his tracks. “Stay put and silent. As for the rest of you-,” He waited for Lisanna, Levy and Freed to poke their heads through the doorway, both girls looking far more sheepish than the other, “Get in here and get him under control. There's no point in standing by if this fool decides to start causing a scene.”

“I'm not a fo-!”

“Natsu.” His voice rumbled with the force of his power,“I said enough.”

His mouth shut instantly with the blaze of his flames receding just enough to make the temperature bearable. Hatred burned in his now amber eyes, refusing to take them off the metal draconis while the others filtered in. Warily they stood behind Natsu, apprehensively eyeing Gajeel. Paying Natsu no mind, he turned his attention to the others, taking a quick assessment.

Nothing impressive to look at. The group didn’t look like wranglers of any sort, but the white haired girl held herself strong and ready by Natsu’s side. She was poised to grab him at a moment's notice. The other two… blue and green haired mages that reeked of ink, stood by her side. The taller man rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, just as ready and the shortest one appeared nervous, bravely holding her hands in a curious manner, eyes wildly flicking about the room. A caster perhaps?

His eyes narrowed as the last two scents finally answered his unasked questions. These were the fabled barrier makers keeping Kage in check. He’d have trouble with them if things went south.

Makarov cracked his back with a groan, ignoring Gajeel’s snickering. He rubbed his temples in exasperation. “Now then,” he muttered, “You need to explain yourself. Now.”

The Draconis hadn’t moved since the chief’s command, but his body trembled from adrenaline coursing through him. Every second, another scale dotted his skin red, peeking through pieces of bandage that still covered his many wounds. Gajeel watched the smoke that rose from his body with a mild interest.

And then he bared his teeth in return, mocking a snarl.

“Enough about me. Let’s talk about him for a bit.” He stated, cracking his knuckles as he matched Natsu's gaze. Neither blinked, one growing more agitated while the other remained irritatingly calm.

“Now I know you fairies can get emotional, but you wanna explain why he’s about ready to pop? Don’t tell me you couldn’t get that lil temper of yours under control after all this time away from home.”

What little flame was left on Natsu’s person burst back into life, now more black than red, proving Gajeels’ point. He took a menacing stop closer, fingers flexing with sharp claws glinting in the light. The Chief stretched out his arms and shouted a warning, holding Lisanna off from charging her own magic. She nodded, but remained poised, with shimmering silver crawling up her arms in a brilliant web.

Natsu didn't notice, too distracted by Gajeel while he hissed steam, ”Wanna say that again you son of a-“

”And that.“ Gajeel said pointedly, snapping his fingers, ”Had to see it myself to make sure. Did you suckers really think black flames are normal?”

His snarl cut off as he blinked owlishly, nervousness filtered into those wide eyes. His magic still flared, casting shadows to all corners of the room. But the others took note of the streaks of oranges and reds slowly breaking through.

“Plenty of us noticed. He's always been like this,“ Makarov admitted, mustache twitching as he frowned, ”Black fire is as natural to him as breathing. Though it seems to flare when his temper has reached its limit.”

”... umm,“ Levy chimed in, uncertainty pulling at her features as she nervously stepped back. Freed placed a calming hand on her shoulder and she nodded, digging her heels into the floor and inhaling deeply to soothe her nerves, ”We have other fire wielders here, they use purple flames. And though I’ve never seen it personally, our traveling group has encountered people who use flames of all colors. Black isn’t so strange, is it?“

”You really got ‘em tricked good haven’t you flamehead?” Gajeel scoffed, waving off her question, but considered her words regardless. Storing the new information in the back of his mind he motioned towards Natsu again. “Get it outta your heads from now that draconis fire is anything close to what normal fire magic is.”

He pondered his next words carefully.

“I’ll let ya in on a clan secret.” He continued gleefully, ignoring Natsu’s growl of warning. “Despite what he’s made you think, black fire ain’t exactly common back home. Rarer than rare. No run of the mill fire draconis could make those flames unless they were-”

“SHUT UP!”

Fire spilled from his mouth as he shoved his way past Makarov, ignoring the old man’s shouts to stand down. Up close Gajeel could see the glow of flames gathered in his throat, even through the heavy bandaging, ready to let loose on a man who was saying too much.

Freed unsheathed his sword, purple runes rising forth from the blade as sweat beaded on his brow from the sweltering heat. “Makarov,” He began tremulously, “I think it would be prudent to-”

“Shut up.” Natsu snapped in a startling voice that sounded closer to beast than man. He could barely be seen behind the thick dark flames that swirled violently around him. Only the brightness of amber eyes shone through with more fear than rage.“Whoever this bastard is, he needs to shut the fuck up before I rip out his fucking throat-”

Gajeel cocked his head to the side and chuckled. For all the blustering and the threats, he didn’t call upon his own scales to meet the call to fight. He took the brunt of the black flames unprotected, unblinking at the heat scorching his skin. The others couldn’t see it beneath the cloak of flames he used like armor. But Gajeel could see everything. Only his eyes were strong enough to pierce through the head and see how Natsu’s body trembled.

He smirked. He had him cornered. Like a desperate animal. And Gajeel wasn’t afraid of animals.

”What's wrong, hothead? Don’t want me to let something slip? They’re your clan after all. They have a right to know about you. S’not right to keep family in the dark-”

”I'm warning you to shut up right-!“

Gajeel bent to meet him at eye level. His voice rose mockingly above Natsu’s and everyone clearly heard over the roar of his flames.

“-You know exactly why I'm here, don't you, Prince?”

Outside the rumbling keep, Lucy held herself tightly, enthralled by the stranger she’d met. Erza stood by in silence, listening fondly as the two celestial roma spoke. Lucy was eager to know of the state of the other clans and Jellal was more than happy to share what he knew. All were blissfully unaware of the state of things beyond Jellal’s holding.

“So they're…..all safe?” She asked, eyes wide and watery in relief, “No others were attacked?”

“You knew of the ones before your clan began its North-bound trek,” He replied, lounging easily in his chair with a hand resting light atop hers. They'd begun their chat in earnest once Lucy gained control of her emotions enough to stop crying. Now she sat upon the edge of his bed, restlessly fidgeting. Her grip in his was tight as steel in an attempt to ground herself. It was hard to accept the reality; She truly wasn't the only one left after all.

Jellal continued with a faint smile, “I can attest that the other branches made it past the mountain ranges to our haven. Only stragglers like myself ran into issues.”

“I still can't believe Erza knew you all along,” Lucy looked back at the redhead, “Why didn't you mention earlier?”

She coughed into her hand, cheeks turning red at the attention suddenly turning to her, “my excursions outside of the clan I like to keep private unless I feel it necessary to share. That being said, I wasn't sure if he was alive or not and didn't wish to give you false hope.”

This was enough to appease Lucy, who tilted her head right back to Jellal excitedly, “and you weren't hurt too much, were you?”

He didn't bother hiding the truth, ”No, I was not. Jose and his men were not pleasant by any means, but they wanted to keep me alive. … I'm certain they want the same with you, as well.“

That was a quick dampener to the mood as Lucy's hand twitched. Her mouth twisted into a grimace and she wavered between keeping her own counsel and asking more questions.

Makarov had kept most of it secret from her, giving her just enough information to mildly satiate her curiosity, but it wasn’t enough. Here, however, was a man of her own blood who could explain everything.

”... is Makarov aware I'm talking to him?“ She asked, curious how much the chief was aware she had found another way to the truth.

A guilty silence from Erza was her answer. Looking to the wall, she fiddled with the straps of her bracer. That was all Lucy needed. For once he was in the dark and Lucy had all the answers laid bare before her, and she hungered for the truth.

Perhaps this could be considered a breach of trust. One that Lucy was unsure if she should take. However... looking at the bruises that dotted Jellal's arm and thinking back to the attacks that began all because she was with them, she couldn't remain in the dark much longer.

“... Was it any celestial,” She asked, voice low, “Or just me? Were they responsible for my Parents-“

She was silenced before the line of questioning could continue as Jellal rested his other hand on her shoulder, sighing. ”I wanted to verify that for myself. And I'm unsure if you'll like what you may hear.“

“Please,” she urged, “I need to know.”

He released her hand and slid from his chair, gaze turning to Erza for a second as he contemplated his next words. Whatever he read in her expression was enough for him to make up his mind. Looking down at the determined Romni, he motioned to the book he'd left shut at the table.

“That you do. But not yet. I think it best I have a meeting with the Chief first to discuss the stirrings I've seen out there,” he decided, dropping to his knees to kneel before her, “but as a fellow Celestial, I promise I will tell you everything you wish to know afterwards. It may not be ideal, but can you accept these terms?”

It wasn't what she wanted to hear and while her shoulders sagged in disappointment, her mind spun with possibilities. Promises were important. No Roma of the celestial blood would dare break one if made. This was it. Her heart pounded at the thought.

She just needed to wait a little bit more.

“Is ... there anything else you can tell me, then?” She asked instead.

His visible relief melted the weight in the room as he looked to her injured leg. The old wound was hidden from him but he spied thin golden strings wrapped gently around her knee, undisturbed in their workings as they hummed with a magic no different from his own.

“Erza may have let it slip that you had issues reclaiming your power.” Humor filled his voice. ”Though there are some differences, I know our teachings have some similarities. Perhaps I can assist?“

Her smile grew so large she felt it would freeze into place, never to change again. ”I would like that.“

And assisted her, he did. He told her things about their abilities: the way the night enhanced them, how to mold the light of the stars to their bidding. Lucy was a natural, he told her, observing her knee with a keen interest. While the current effects did their job well, the efficiency was lost to inexperience, something he expertly talked her through with a guiding hand and patient voice.

Fragmented memories came to the surface with every word. Memories Lucy once refused to let surface. They trickled thoughts of a family long lost, but the old pain from her grief didn’t join them. She watched in awe as Jellal instructed her, hanging onto his every word and practiced motion. The familiarity of it all almost pushed her to tears again.

Erza watched in amusement as Lucy keenly absorbed everything he said. As the minutes passed by she took to the floor, withdrawing a rag and oil from a pouch on her belt to lathe over the length of her blade in delicate strokes. She was as patient as Lucy's teacher and would continue to watch and listen as Lucy relearned her abilities anew.

She was giddy, watching as the magic pooled in her palms and glimmered, casting a warm, yellow glow upon her skin. It was basic: a brief lesson of control that she once did as a child under a parent’s guiding hand. But to do it again without fatigue or pain clouding her mind left her childishly happy.

Jellal eased his weight back into his chair, fondly watching Lucy’s growing excitement. Her eyes glowed from the magic within, widening as a coo left her lips as she observed the swirling depths of her magic. She was, quite literally, starry eyed and her happiness pulled at his heart. To think that something so simple brought her so much joy, he couldn’t imagine the grief it caused to have her magic locked away.

He hummed and looked to the ceiling, eyes glazing over in thought as if he was watching the sky rather than the aged wood above.

Reaching a decision, he snapped a finger and grabbed a candle off the table.

“Lucy,” He asked, holding it aloft between them. The flickering light grabbed her attention as she curiously waited, “What is your experience with talking to the stars?”

Oh. This lit a light inside her mind, eyebrows rising into her hair. “I wasn't allowed to as a child. Even when I was older it was still something kept from me. But I've made ... attempts.”

“Even if you didn’t participate, did you watch anyone in your family do it?”

She shook her head, “I was always sent off to bed before they began.”

At the dubious stare he gave her she quickly amended, “I mean, I tried to sneak peeks. Of course I did, but they always seemed to just know and shoved me back off to bed before I could witness anything.They must’ve had their reasons so I eventually figured not to question them.”

He noted her admittance with a tilt of his head. “How odd. Are you aware of the meditations involved at least?”

When her eyes lost focus, attention leaning towards a speck on the wall, he followed with the candle flame, “I admit, it's much easier at night, but we can practice now all the same. Sometimes the stars speak regardless.”

Attention regained, Lucy flushed prettily and the magic in her palms dimmed with her embarrassment, “Is that what I've been doing wrong?”

“Hmm?” He prompted, settling the candle back down. He reached for a pack of matches, striking one to life as he moved to light a second one.

Well now she just felt silly, ”I can’t recall if I heard them as a child, but within the past year I’ve heard them without trying anything. They were just these voices either whispering nonsense into my head or shouting loud enough to give me migraines for hours on end. I've tried to reach out to them, but I suppose without knowing the proper ways I've never been able to instigate it.“

The match he was using to light a third candle dropped from his fingers, snuffing itself out as it clattered to the floor.

His eyes narrowed, his tattoo beneath his eye crinkled as his brows drew close together in suspicion. Gone was her patient teacher, replaced instead with a sudden interrogator. Even Erza glanced up at his change in tone.

”... you've heard them?“ He repeated with a mystified air, ”no meditation? No prompting? Just... voices?“

She felt very insecure under his cold gaze. Her magic faded beneath her skin and she shrunk in on herself. Her arms fell to her lap to fidget with her skirt. ”.....am I not supposed to?“

Had she just admitted to being absolutely crazy?

“No, no , please, I apologize,” setting the candles aside, he quickly moved to brace her shoulders, expression wide in surprise, “I didn't mean to offend you, it's just…” He gnawed at his lip, “.... not how we normally do things. In fact, I've only heard of one occasion it was done in such a manner and that was-”

He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, “Nevermind you mind that. Perhaps I'm over thinking it and it's just a sign of you needing to regain control of your abilities. Meditation can help with that.”

Lucy bit her lip as she observed him. He was avoiding her gaze, looking everywhere but her. Sometimes his eyes flickered occasionally back to the aged book. Erza stopped wiping down her blade, eyeing the two of them with intense scrutiny. Her gaze practically drilled a hole into Jellal's stiff back.

“You promised to be truthful with me.” Lucy said blankly. He flinched at her accusation, pulling his hands from her shoulders. Guiltily he ran a light finger over his wounded wrists.

“I did.”

His emotions played out on his face- the confusion, the concern and the briefest hint of clarity before he steeled himself. Donning a placid mask, he spoke again. He cut Lucy off before she had the chance to protest.

"Our promise is not broken,“ He admitted, once again reaching for the candles, ”That I can assure you. But I may need to speak with your chief sooner than I expected. I’ll have to inform him of this immediately.”

“Informed of what?” Lucy dug. Erza rose to her feet in a clank of heavy metal, worriedly looking at Lucy then casting a suspicious eye at her friend. “ What are you talking about?”

“At least tell me this much.” Lucy begged. She wanted to know, before following anything else, she HAD to know.

Jellal sighed and lowered his gaze, blue fringe of hair blocking his expression further, ”... That perhaps, Jose was on the right track. That you may be the one Celestial none of our kind would ever want him to get his hands on.”

He gripped his hands tightly, mirroring Lucy as the world seemed to fall out from under them. She. she had to know more! But from the look on Jellal’s face said the discussion was already closed. He wouldn’t tell her.

Not yet at least.

---

All Natsu felt was rage when he came to. The ghost of a snarl rested on his tongue as his instincts sparked back to life.

He wanted to burn something. No, someone.

That other draconis just wouldn’t stop talking. Every word he uttered in that grating voice of his was deliberate, carefully chosen to dig under his skin and set his blood to a boil. It had driven Natsu closer to the edge beyond the realm of reason.

He had no right to even be here. A stranger with a self assured sneer standing freely in Natsu’s home, looking down on him without a care. He had no right to live after that awful word fell from his lips. Natsu screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memory to no avail, it echoed in his mind.

Prince.

He vividly recalled the look of sly victory that settled in the man’s piercing red eyes. He didn’t bother to keep his gaze on Natsu when the title spilled from his lips. Instead, his gaze settled on those behind Natsu. He couldn’t see their bewildered faces as they looked to him for confirmation. For the truth.

He only saw red bleeding away to darkness as the world closed in on him. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, louder than the blood rushing through his ears. It drowned out his only frantic thought- 'They can't know. No one can know, stop him, shut him up, shut him up shut hi- NOW.'

The fires around him swirled like a cacophonous tornado. Any hint of red in its depths was stolen by the black flames pounding at the walls. Gajeel stood arrogantly, unperturbed even as the raging wildfire licked at his skin. The cracking of stone walls under the blast and the groaning of the abused ceiling above were sounds lost to the fury inside his heart. The incessant screams and desperate cries for him to calm down were barely registered, as the others fought to regain his attention over the one word that repeated in his mind over and over again.

He lunged and the room erupted in frantic shouts.

Freed flung himself before Levy and Lisanna, swiping his sword in an arc that sent a line of runes across the floor, protecting Gajeel. It lasted mere seconds against the onslaught before it crumbled under the flames. Pressure dropped to nothing as Makarov grew in size, magic swelled around as he shoved the others out the door. Grasping the burning draconis with an oversized hand, he held the feral draconis back with a power the keep could barely contain.

Power ballooned in his chest, forcing its way up his throat. He dug his claws into Makarov’s seared skin, all sense of himself lost.

Everything went dark after that. While Natsu blinked at the ceiling, clarity returned to him slowly, allowing him to pick up the pieces of his actions and realize his location was different. He wasn’t in Gajeel’s cell anymore.

What... just happened?

He knew this room and knew it well. It was a side room in the keep that Makarov often snuck off to for short naps. The old man’s light scent on the sheets was strong evidence to that. He blinked again when he caught Freed and Levy’s scents as well despite the silent room being void of anyone else.

Straining to move, Natsu grunted in surprise. He realized with horror that he couldn’t. And it wasn’t the weariness deep in his bones that stopped him. He struggled to bend his neck, finding himself covered in runic spells, shifting lines of words he couldn’t read. They bound his wrists and ankles. Now wonder he could smell the two Rune Enchanters . It was their handiwork.

But why? How did he even get here?

”Finally back to your senses are you?“ Makarov’s voice echoed from behind and Natsu craned his head back as far as he could to catch a glimpse of the Chief sitting on the floor with arms and legs crossed, almost as if he’d been dozing for quite some time.

The world swam in and out of focus for Natsu, he couldn't make heads or tails or what was going on. Why was he being held down? His growl of frustration was pointed towards Makarov as he strained against the runes binding him. They didn’t dig at his skin. In fact he barely felt their presence save for a light buzz of magic, but they were unbending against his struggle and he was too drained of his strength to give it his all.

Prince, the word echoed in his head once more and a panic began to settle into his bones.

They- they knew. They heard Gajeel’s admittance of a secret he had long since buried with his past. He stared at Makarov wide eyed, the old man stayed still as a statue, eying Natsu critically. Dread soured the air as Natsu gasped in shaky breaths.

They had him tied up for it.

Why else would they tie him down if not to do something with that information? A surge of betrayal stole his breath even as logic desperately screamed against it. This was his family now, they would never-

“What's going on?” He rasped, breaking free of his turbulent thoughts, “why can't I move?”

”Good, you're definitely more lucid than you were thirty minutes ago,“ Makarov rose from his seat with a low groan, unusually hunched in his posture as he hobbled over to Natsu’s side. His tired eyes keenly swept over the draconis as he let the question go ignored for the moment. ”I was worried about you for a bit there.“

Relieved to take the strain off his neck, the draconis followed his chief's steps in rapt attention.

He was never one to ignore a question. Take frustratingly long to answer as he sought the right words? Yes. The chief was a man of patience, something he often butted heads with the fiery draconis over as he seemed to have none. But Natsu was wise enough in this moment to not demand speedier answers. Not when he couldn’t move.

But the question bubbled in his chest, burned the tip of his tongue and refused to be quashed down. It died on his tongue only when Makarov stumbled, gritting his teeth to quiet the pained hiss that left him.

Gramps was wounded? How? Who- he struggled to sit up again, desperately trying to reach the old man’s side to help him. His thrashing was cut short by the chief laying a hand against his chest, giving a firm pressure to hold him down.

“None of that,” He chided, “I'm better now that you’re awake. Wendy has already had a look and Porylusica will be double checking later. I'd rather talk about you.”

“But-” he tried to remember on his own, what exactly happened during his outburst, who could have- the only conclusion he could figure sharpened his features in a barely concealed rage, “Did that draconis-”

“No,” interrupted Makarov, fingers flexing on Natsu's chest. “. Gajeel has not laid a finger on me. In fact, if not for him, everything would have gone much worse.”

Gajeel …? The name sounded oddly familiar to him but he couldn’t ruminate on it further as the master’s words only served to confuse Natsu, “He's the one who snuck around and said all that- what do you mean thanks to him?“

”... I almost think it's better for you to see for yourself,“ Makarov muttered more to himself than to Natsu but negated the idea immediately, ”no, perhaps not. Not in your condition. Who knows what it would do to you to know the truth so quickly.“

The truth?

Already his earlier ire was starting to rise again, simmering under his skin as heat swelled and smoke started to leak from his nose, ”This ain't making any sense! Can't you just-“

Makarov continued in his inspection, silently ignoring Natsu’s outburst. He examined the magic bindings on the draconis' body and clicked his tongue at the growing singe marks on the sheets. Wordlessly he shot Natsu a look that demanded his silence.

The stony intensity in his eyes cut Natsu off immediately, “I can’t just proceed further without caution! This situation has fallen from my grasp without my knowing! And you especially my boy! I cannot just-!”

He sucked in a breath to steady his nerves. Natsu could hear the frantic beat of Makarov's heart hammering away in his chest and the old man wobbled on his feet. Natsu whined, “ Gramps please.”

His shoulders fell in defeat and his other hand found its way to rest atop Natsu’s crown. A calming gesture. But if it was to calm one or the other, Natsu couldn’t tell. “...Before I explain anything, I need you to promise me not to blame yourself.” He continued in a low voice. “In fact, I need you to mentally prepare yourself to remain as calm as you can manage. I won't say anything further until you prove to me you can do that.”

How could he-? ”I can't just not feel things!“ Natsu protested.

”Promise me!“ Makarov's voice was a harsh whisper, bordering on pleading, ”My boy, it is alright to feel, but you mustn't 'react'! Do you understand?“

His desperate plea froze Natsu in place, staring wide eyed at Makarov’s face. At that moment, he reminded Natsu of another man he wanted to forget. A man who never shied away from his fire even as it was thrown around in frustrated bouts that burned the area around him.

It was safe then, screaming his rage in a room designed to contain his outbursts til he grew weary. And a comforting arm would wrap itself around his shoulders. Warm eyes that always beheld him with quiet pride would meet him at eye level, accompanied by whispered instructions that held no fear. No judgement.

'My son... it is alright to be angry; to feel it and express it, but you must not react. You must control yourself. Can you do that for me?'

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and Natsu forced the memory out, nodding vigorously to his chief. “I'll... I'll try.”

Makarov waited in silence for a few seconds, watching as Natsu closed his eyes and took in deep breaths. Allowing his body to relax against the sheets, the burning embers of his body simmered and the smoke dispersed. It was hard to dampen his own inner flame, but with a few more breaths, he managed.

Makarov sighed in relief, “Good. Now keep it tethered. I’ve always known you to have a temper on you but I see now why Gajeel treated your outbursts as abnormal. I don't appreciate him purposefully baiting you. That man took too much pleasure in the barbs he threw at you, but I believe, I think this is something we all needed to see.”

His grip on Natsu’s chest tightened. “Your black fire has always been a point of interest, but never one of danger. It’s become so rare in these past years I'd almost forgotten it. But today…..This level of anger and hatred…. I’ve not seen anything like this from you before; The reports Laxus and Cana gave of your fight with Kage, today's instance hardly compares….. I’m worried for you.”

Today?

What did he mean by…?

Makarov patiently waited for him to connect the dots. He was often like this, giving others the chance to find the truth at their own pace instead of thrusting it on them all at once. But nothing made sense.

Gajeel wasn’t at fault for what Natsu could barely recall no matter how hard he tried. It made him feel light headed as he fought to piece together all that was laid out for him . Annoyance started to take hold. He inhaled deeply to steady his slipping nerves and almost choked on it when a familiar scent coated his tongue.

The muted scent of charred flesh, burnt black beyond recognition. It wrapped Makarov as he stared down at Natsu, forlorn, waiting for it to click. He didn’t need to see to know how bad the injury was and the truth struck his chest like a pile of rubble crushing his bones.

Natsu didn't always put things together as fast as the others, but this wasn't something that flew over his head, “... it was me….?”

No. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He searched Makarov’s grim expression for something that said otherwise but woefully found nothing of the sort.

The limp, his restraints…. The hand on his chest, how didn’t he notice the burns that marred Makarov’s fingers sooner? Panic seized him.

“What did I do?!” Natsu’s terror threatened to choke him. He vaguely recalled Makarov’s order to stay calm but control was slipping from him again as fear sank its claws into his frazzled brain. ”Where are the others?! Did I-“

”No,“ Makarov chided gently as he moved to rest his hand against Natsu's forehead, ”Freed moved quick enough to protect the others from the initial blast while I held you down, but the explosion was bigger than any of us could’ve imagined. If not for Gajeel knocking you out, the Keep may have been lost. I had guessed his affinity with metal, but to see an entire arm turn into it was something else entirely.“

Natsu wished he could do something instead of just laying there. He wanted to run, to cover his face in shame, to sink into the floor away from Makarov’s worried eyes that held no fear. There was only pity in their depths that made him feel worse. His breathing grew harsh as everything began to come back in vague pieces.

The memories were faint and blurred from the anger he'd felt, but with the chief's recollection he could catch the hints of surprised shouts and the crackling burn of splintered wood in his mind. He wouldn't be surprised if the room was nothing more than a gaping hole in the side of the building. The realization reflected on his face in horror and despair.

He'd hurt the old man. He could have killed everyone if not for Freed and that damned, filthy metal head and it was all because he couldn't control his temper.

He couldn't remember reason, try as he might, his rage had ignited something that made him blind to everything around him.

The tears that streamed down his face were unnoticed until a choking sob wracked through his body. “I'm sorry... ” He rasped, “I'm so sorry-”

Makarov continued to rub his forehead, shushing him quietly with clicks of his tongue and a gentle hum. It wasn't the same as the night before, when Lucy had held him tight, but the comfort was there. It had always been there. The chief was respected and loved for more than just his leadership and strength, he had always acted as a father or grandfather to the majority of magic users in his home and Natsu was no different. He shuddered beneath the touch, whimpering softly as his inner turmoil threatened to boil him alive.

“I told you,” Makarov murmured, voice low and mixed with pain, “it's not your fault. Whatever this is... this madness, it can be tempered now that we know about it. Don't just blame yourself for what you can't control: at least not yet.”

But he could control it, Natsu thought. He'd been taught so long ago to keep his rage in check, the lessons were a part of him for as long as he could wield those dark flames.

When had he begun to lose it? When had he stopped caring to hold the dark vestiges of it in check? He didn't have the time or the mental power to think it through in that moment, too aggrieved by his own actions, but he nodded despite himself, desperately wanting to believe anything Makarov said.

He didn't know how much longer he sobbed, unable to move while the elder stayed at his bedside. All he knew was the anguish at his own mistakes and the wild thoughts swarming through his mind in a tornado of regret.

If only that draconis hadn't come, if only he hadn't come to Natsu's window last night if only- he must have begun to mutter the thoughts out loud as Makarov quickly shushed him.

“I'll take care of him myself,” He assured, voice gruff, ”whatever he's after, it's not Lucy. What he has done to you is another matter that won’t go unpunished. He's followed my rules down to the letter, so far. You don't need to do a thing.“

”but...“ Natsu struggled through his words, sniffing as his earlier tears stuffed his nose and made his eyes far too swollen to be comfortable, ”we, I can't just-“

”Natsu,“ Makarov warned, removing his hand to flick the boy's chin in a sharp reprimand, ”as your chief, I will handle it. I can’t let you do anything in this state. His interest is clearly focused on you, not what Jose wants. I beg of you, please, hold yourself back..“

Natsu couldn’t. It wouldn’t be enough. It sounded so simple to do but how could he? Not when everything he’d struggled to build for himself was at stake. Why couldn’t Makarov get that?

”He knows about me…..who I am.“ Natsu whispered, voice cracking as he tried to get his point across.

Makarov hesitated, lifting his hands from Natsu at the reminder of a bold truth. True the questions burned at the old man’s mind. It was another strange puzzle piece to an already complex situation that continued to swell out of his control.

But what was he to do? The boy before him was just that: a boy as terrified as the day Makarov carried him in his arms to a new life. He rested his palm over Natsu’s heart, the erratic beats thumping wild enough to rattle his bones.

”A secret you have kept hidden for good reason I'm sure,“ Makarov agreed softly, ”but we all have our own secrets, and yours has been forced from you in a terrible way. It’s something I would like to speak with you about, but only when you are ready. For now I need you to recover. Focus on staying calm in the coming hours: understood? I’ll be back later to check on you.“

Natsu had no choice but to nod his head as another wave of guilt washed over him. Makarov gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he turned away, limping towards the door. It was painful to watch as he dragged a leg lamely behind him despite his best efforts to appear hale and hearty. He could see it now, the burnt edges of his pants, and the tight wrappings of white bandages spotted with red through the charred holes in his shirt.

He tilted his head towards the wall and clenched his eyes shut, unable to accept the truth that he was the cause of everything. Makarov’s groan of pain was shut out by the door clicking shut, leaving him completely alone.

Natsu bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, forcing back another whine. More tears threatened to spill down his face. Not even the tang of his own blood filling his mouth could distract him. He deserved it for what he’d done.

What else could he do if he wasn’t careful and lost control again? Just how much damage would be done because he wasn’t strong enough? The thoughts clung to Natsu’s mind the rest of the day, unable to think of anything else.

#fairy tail fanfiction #nalu fanfiction #ft fanfiction #nalu #natsuxlucy #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #plot bomb drop #AWAY #this chapter is my gift to myself #and i think i did good lmao

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