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This job is so boring, Natsu thinks, for the hundredth time that evening, as he reaches up again to fiddle with the annoying tie he’s been forced to wear, grimacing at the uncomfortable, unfamiliar style of his suit.
“Stop complaining, Natsu,” Erza sighs, and whoops, he must have said that out loud. “It’s an extremely simple job,” Erza continues. “Our client is paying us handsomely for the small task of acting as his bodyguards during this event. We’ve been going on a lot of dangerous quests lately, and this is a refreshing change of pace.”
Erza can speak for herself. Natsu, for his part, is more than happy to take on all the monster-slaying jobs in the world.
“We travelled all this way,” Natsu grumbles. It had been a two-day journey, escorting their client safely from his big fancy estate in Eastern Fiore to the venue of the party they’re at, a celebration, they’d been told, of the engagement of their client’s niece. “All of that, and we don’t even get to beat anyone up! What does that guy even need us for? It sure doesn’t seem like there’s anyone out to get him.”
“Millionaires tend to be paranoid,” Gray’s voice drawls in his ear, and Natsu jumps, shooting him a vicious glare as he sidles up next to him. Fuck, all the different smells and sounds in this room are throwing his senses out of whack. Even if there were an enemy sneaking into the party to kill their client, Natsu doesn’t think he’d be able to pick up on their scent. Why do rich people wear such smelly perfumes?
“The guy’s clothes are worth more than a year’s worth of the rent I pay for my apartment,” Gray continues, nodding in the direction of their client. He’s a non-descript looking middle-aged man who seems to be in his element, glimmering in all his finery as he laughs and schmoozes in a group of similarly-dressed aristocrats. “He’s probably scared that someone might try to steal them off his back.”
“Speaking of clothes,” Erza says coolly, a dangerous glint in her eye as she stares Gray down. “You’d better not be thinking of taking yours off, Gray.”
Gray’s hands, which were already straying towards his shirt’s collar go very still as he squeaks out an agreement. Natsu snorts derisively and looks around the ballroom.
Although not nearly as opulent as the ball they’d attended at the palace in Crocus all those years ago, this one is not very far behind. The tables are laden with a dizzying array of cuisines from all around the continent (that Natsu would happily be partaking of right now if Erza hadn’t told him sternly that he needs to focus on the job, the spoilsport); glittering chandeliers hang from the ceiling; the marble floors are polished so finely that one can practically see their reflections in them; waiters in expensive suits walk around with carefully balanced trays on their arms, serving the finest champagne Ishgar has to offer.
All of that aside, though…it’s just not fun. Natsu thinks back to when he was a kid, and the guild celebrated Macao’s engagement. It was a simple party, with just Macao’s closest family gathered around him, everyone singing and dancing; the kids high on sugar and the adults drunk off their asses. And it was a million times warmer and more real than this is.
“There you guys are!” Lucy gives them a small wave as she weaves through the crowd, Wendy, Charle and Happy in tow. “Everything good on your end?”
“Yeah, no sign of anything suspicious,” Gray answers. “I didn’t see you guys when I was doing a sweep of the ballroom, where’d you run off to?”
Wendy turns a bit red. “That’s my fault, I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “There are so many people in here and it was getting overwhelming…so Lucy-san took me outside to get some fresh air.”
Natsu winces in sympathy. Wendy is still growing into her draconic senses, so she’s not as used to dealing with them as he and Gajeel are. “Hey, you can sit out the rest of the night if you need to,” he tells her. “Nothing’s happening, anyway.”
Charle is hovering, worried as always. “Yes, Wendy, if you need a break…”
“I’m all better now, I promise!” Wendy smiles brightly at them. “I just needed a breather.”
Natsu’s attention is diverted by Happy, who flies over and flops onto his shoulder. “Natsuuuuu…” he whines dramatically. “I’m hungry…and Erza won’t let us eat…”
“Have some self-discipline,” Erza says unfeelingly. “We can all eat to our heart’s content after we’re done with our jobs and the guests go home.”
“But that’s such a long time to wait,” Natsu grumbles. He’d protested loudly and passionately when Erza had told them that they couldn’t eat any of the food at the party because they need to focus on protecting everyone and he hasn’t stopped being mad about it. There’s an entire table just for seafood and they’re not supposed to dig in? It’s torture, pure and simple.
He hates this job.
“Lucy, can you summon that crab spirit of yours?” Happy asks, almost salivating at the thought. Charle rolls her eyes in exasperation.
“You can’t eat him, Happy,” Lucy responds in an almost absentminded manner, a far cry from the over-the-top way she’d normally react if Happy suggested eating one of her spirits. Natsu frowns.
Lucy has been acting off since yesterday, ever since they’d arrived in this town with their client. She’s been distracted, sad, even, but always quick to deflect whenever Natsu tried to question her on it. She didn’t even protest to wearing the dress their client’s staff selected for her—a poofy ballgown with god knows how many layers and with too many ruffles and ribbons to count. Natsu has no idea how she’s even moving in that thing and he knows she hates it. He hates it, too, if he’s being honest. She looks so unnatural and un-Lucy-like in that get-up. He much prefers her in her everyday outfits, looking comfortable and at home in her own skin.
And he much prefers her with a smile on her face. He hasn’t seen her wear a real smile in almost two days now, and he doesn’t know why, and it’s making him all antsy and upset, with the urge to punch whatever is making her sad, but he can’t because she refuses to tell him.
Did Natsu mention that he hates this job?
“Lucy—” Natsu begins, but as if anticipating his question, Lucy talks over him quickly.
“I think I’ll go check out the servants’ entrance. Make sure no one unauthorized is passing through there.” Before Natsu can protest, she turns on her heel with a swish of her voluminous skirts, and weaves back through the crowd again.
Natsu finds himself watching the way she moves. It’s like a switch has been turned on, ever since Lucy stepped into this ballroom, wearing that dress. Her movements are poised and graceful. She’s holding her head up high. Her hands are clasped in front of her demurely. She seems to have automatically slipped back into old habits, looking every inch the heiress she once was.
And Natsu can’t stand it.
“Is Lucy-san alright?” Wendy asks, breaking him out of his thoughts. “She’s been acting a bit off since we came here.”
“Maybe it’s the job?” Gray suggests. “Being in a place like this might be reminding her of her old life.”
Natsu hadn’t even thought of that, actually, but it makes sense. Lucy hated the life she left behind. It can’t be easy for her to be thrown back into an environment that reminds her of it at every turn. And Natsu feels, unreasonably so, furious that Gray was the one to notice and figure it out, and not him.
Which is stupid, Natsu knows. Gray is Lucy’s friend, too. But Natsu is—he’s—
The next thing that happens, though, Natsu catches wind of before his friends do. A man who looks to be in his forties—standing out because he’s dressed a lot more humbly than the rest of his counterparts—glances at Lucy as she appears in his periphery and then his eyes go wide and delighted. He takes her by the shoulders before she can pass him by, and Natsu is ready to charge straight at him, the rest of the guests be damned—before he registers that he has a large, friendly smile on his face and he immediately removes his hands from Lucy once he has her attention and greets her. His voice is loud enough to garner the attention of the rest of the partygoers and they all go quiet, listening in.
“Layla? It is you, isn’t? My god, you haven’t aged a day!”
Lucy’s entire body goes rigid.
Natsu immediately wants to burn this entire godforsaken place to the ground.
“Wha—” Erza begins, and her voice trails off. Gray sucks in a sharp, pained breath.
“He thinks she’s—fuck,” He catches glimpse of the fury in Natsu’s face and quickly reaches out to grasp his shoulder.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Natsu.”
“Let me go,” Natsu snarls. “I’m gonna—”
But in front of them, the man is still talking, seemingly oblivious to how Lucy is as still as a stone, her eyes wide and horrified, her hands clenched in fists by her sides.
“It’s been almost twenty years, hasn’t it? It’s absolutely incredibly, the way you still look the same as you did then. How is Jude doing? I last saw you in Love and Lucky, when you came back to officially resign your membership. And now—”
The mention of her mother’s old guild seems to shake Lucy out her stupor. She draws back; clears her throat and speaks in a robotic, overly-formal manner which Natsu has never heard her use. Not once. It makes his skin crawl with discomfort.
“My apologies, sir, but you’re mistaken,” Lucy says, her voice completely flat. “I am not Layla. I’m her daughter, Lucy.”
“Oh!” The man stops short, and looks her up and down once more. “Oh!” He says again. “That does—that does actually make more sense,” he laughs sheepishly, but Lucy doesn’t smile. “My mistake. Layla’s girl—now I remember. You were just a baby, the last I remember. You really are the spitting image of your mother, miss. How is she doing?”
“She’s dead,” Lucy says, bluntly, and several people around them gasp. “She passed away sixteen years ago.”
The man’s face drains of colour. Lost for words, he stutters uselessly—and then a young woman comes shoving her way through the ground, grasping at his elbow, her face bright red with embarrassment.
“Uncle!” She says to him, admonishingly, and then turns her gaze on Lucy. “I—I’m so terribly sorry, Miss Heartfilia. Please forgive my uncle. He has been out of the country for about two decades, running a branch of the family business in Bosco—he did not hear of Lady Layla’s passing. Or—” She falls silent, but everyone who knows the story can hear the rest that goes unspoken. Or of the Heartfilia family’s sudden misfortune. Or of the disappearance of Layla’s heir. Or of Jude Heartfilia’s sudden death.
“It’s alright,” Lucy says, in that same, robotic tone, a forced smile on her face. “He didn’t know.”
“Miss—”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Lucy says. “I still have a job to do.”
The crowd of guests parts for her wordlessly and Natsu is about to run after her, the job be damned—but is stopped by Erza’s hand on his arm.
“Give her a moment, Natsu,” Erza says. Natsu spins around, ready to snap at her—and stops when he sees the same worry and sadness he feels reflected in her eyes, and in Gray’s and Wendy’s and Happy’s and Charle’s. The fight goes out of him suddenly, and his shoulders slump. He scrubs a hand over his face. Fuck. How did the night turn into this?
“This is so messed up,” he mutters, and the others nod sombrely in agreement.
The night goes on, somehow, and Natsu barely pays attention to his surroundings, lost in his worry about Lucy, and his futile desire to punch that man for making her sad, even if it hadn’t been his intention. It’s probably for the best, then, that everything else goes on smoothly, and no one tries to attack their client. At the end of the party, as the last stragglers of guests leave, all of them regroup in the ballroom, Lucy included. She smiles weakly at them, more genuine this time, to Natsu’s relief.
“Before you ask, guys—I’m fine, okay? I just,” she exhales loudly. “I just need a shower. And some sleep.”
Gently, Erza and Wendy herd her to the room the girls are sharing, and Natsu watches them disappear down the hallway, feeling incredibly lost and out-of-sorts. He wants to go after Lucy—to stick by her side—to make sure she doesn’t cry—but if she doesn’t want any of that—
If they were back home, he’d just go to her apartment and be with her, no matter what she said. But here he has Erza to contend with, and with the way she’s watching Lucy like a hawk for any sign of distress, it’s obvious she won’t let him near her if she thinks it’s not what Lucy wants.
Back in the room Natsu and Happy are sharing with Gray, he just flops down on his bed, too preoccupied with thoughts of Lucy to even complain like he normally would over having to share with his rival. Thankfully, Gray ducks into the bathroom immediately and Natsu and Happy are left alone in the room.
“It must suck for Lucy,” Happy says, eventually. “She was probably compared to her mom her whole life.”
“Not just her mom,” Natsu mutters. His mind flashes back to Anna. She was born four hundred years before Lucy was and looks so similar to her. Natsu imagines hundreds of Heartfilia women, all bearing Lucy’s face.
Natsu knows what it is to grieve a dead parent. Hell, Gray, Wendy, even Erza—they all do.
But he can’t imagine what it must be like, to look in a mirror and see the face of the person you lost staring back at you.
The door to their room swings open, and Natsu sits up, startled, as Erza comes in, looking around the room rapidly.
“Erza, what the hell?”
“Lucy’s not here?”
“Wh—she’s supposed to be with you and Wendy!”
“She said she wanted some air and she stepped outside,” Erza explains, looking worried. “She’s been taking a while, so I thought she might be here, with you. But—”
Natsu doesn’t wait for her to finish, already on his feet, rushing past her out the door. “You guys stay here,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll find her.”
He doesn’t actually believe that Lucy is in danger or anything. This estate is in the middle of nowhere, they’ve been here for two days and they haven’t detected any presence dangerous enough to be a threat to any of them, Lucy included. But the reason Natsu had left her alone before, was because he thought she’d be with Erza and Wendy, and they’d be comforting her. He can’t stand the idea of her being all by herself right now.
Finding her is easy enough. Her scent lingers in the empty corridors, and leads him up several flights of stairs until he’s on the roof. There, Natsu finds Lucy, standing at the stone wall, gazing up at the night sky.
“Lucy?”
“Natsu?” She looks surprised to see him, which, after all this time, is kinda insulting, if he’s being honest. “How’d you find me?”
Natsu taps his nose with a grin, and Lucy lets out a tiny huff, shaking her head.
He joins her at the wall, resting his hands on the stone close to hers, his shoulder brushing against hers. She’s out of that ridiculous dress, looking comfortable in a tank top and a skirt, her hair loose down her back, and it makes Natsu’s chest feel a little lighter.
“Erza was worried about you.”
“Oh,” Lucy murmurs. “I didn’t mean to make her worry. I just wanted—”
She sighs deeply, and looks up at the sky, as if seeking answers. Natsu follows her gaze. It’s a clear night and the sky is filled with a million stars. Natsu can’t make out patterns in them like Lucy can, but knowing that they give her some semblance of comfort is enough, he supposes.
“Do you want me to go beat that guy up for you?” He offers, just to make her laugh, and to his delight, she does, letting out a little exasperated giggle.
“Why is violence always the answer with you?”
“It’s the easiest one, duh.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Lucy shakes her head, but at least her eyes are glimmering with amusement and Natsu can’t help but beam at her in response.
“It wasn’t his fault,” Lucy says, eventually. “And I’m okay. Really. I mean that. It just—it just caught me off guard, that’s all.”
She pauses, her eyes distant and contemplative, and Natsu remains silent, waiting for her to gather the words. Oddly enough, it reminds him of the day after their return from Tenrou Island, when Lucy found out that her dad was dead. It’s a weird comparison, he knows. No one has died, this time. But—
“Did you know,” Lucy begins, her voice so soft that if not for his dragon slayer senses, Natsu might’ve missed what she said altogether. “That yesterday was the anniversary of my mom’s death?”
Oh.
Natsu’s mind flashes back to it—how Lucy’s mood had shifted so abruptly, how she’d withdrawn into herself without an explanation, how uncomfortable she’d been throughout the party…
It wasn’t just the reminder of her old home, Natsu realizes, that was bothering her all that time.
Something tells him to stay quiet; to wait for her to finish, so he does. And sure enough, after a heavy pause, Lucy continues.
“The worst part was—” Lucy makes a sound like she’s just swallowed around a sob and Natsu clenches his fists uselessly. “I forgot. Like, how messed up is that? I took this job with you guys, not even remembering that it would fall on the anniversary of the day she died. And then yesterday we arrived in town and it just hit me, and—” Lucy exhales, loudly. “I’ve just been feeling so guilty. What kind of daughter does that make me?”
“Lucy, c’mon,” Natsu says immediately. “You know better than that. It doesn’t change anything. You loved her, right? That’s enough.”
“Right,” Lucy says, hollowly, like she doesn’t fully believe him. His heart twisting, Natsu searches, fruitlessly, for the words, any words, that will make her feel better. But to no avail.
“Everyone always told me,” Lucy says, after a pause. “That I look like my mother. Growing up, I would hear it over and over again. Dad couldn’t bear to look at me. And all everyone would tell me was—you’re just like your mother, Lucy.”
Lucy turns her head to look at him, tears in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Ever since the war. Ever since meeting Anna,” Natsu swallows, remembering confronting Zeref, and the matter-of-fact way Zeref told him, what happened four hundred years ago. “All those Heartfilia women,” Lucy continues. “For hundreds of years. With the same face, using the same magic, carrying on the same name, bearing the same duty. Sometimes I wonder—am I myself? Or am I just the women who came before me?”
This, Natsu actually has an answer to. “You’re Lucy of Fairy Tail,” he says, steadfastly; remembers standing in the basement of a broken-down guild and saying the same words confidently to a much younger, less scarred version of Lucy, even as she looked up at him with the same sorrow and guilt reflected in Lucy’s eyes now. “You’re our Lucy. Not anyone else. You’re not defined by the people who came before you, Lucy, you gotta know that.”
“You met Anna—”
“Yeah,” Natsu says. “And she reminds me of you. Not the other way around.”
Lucy falls silent for a moment, and Natsu takes the opportunity to add, “Besides, Anna may have opened the gate—your mom and all the others in your family might have prepared to open it—but Lucy, you closed it.”
He wasn’t there when she did it, of course. But he’d felt the reverberations of it closing, saving them from being at the mercy of ten thousand dragons. And he’d known it was her, and Future Rogue had known, and had marked her as the one who closed the gate. But it was for all the right reasons, not the lies that Rogue had fed them with.
Lucy looks at him—really looks straight into his eyes, rather than being lost in some memory, the way she has been, all evening—like she can’t believe he just said that.
“I don’t want you to think,” Lucy says, slowly. “That I—that I resent being compared to my mom. Or anything like that.”
“I know.”
“It’s just—” Lucy draws in her breath sharply. “It would have been easier. If she were here. But she isn’t. And I have to carry on her legacy, or at least it feels like I have to—and it’s a big burden to bear. That’s all.”
Natsu remembers, again, what Zeref had told him, and his heart gives a painful lurch.
Lucy’s mother. She died, because—
It’s all because—
If he allows himself to think about it too much—he can’t. He can’t bear it. Not yet.
Besides, this isn’t about him, anyway. It’s about Lucy. So, he changes track.
“I’m really grateful to your mom, you know,” Natsu says, suddenly, and Lucy blinks, shaken out of her reverie in surprise. She gives a little startled laugh.
“You never even met her, Natsu.”
“Didn’t have to,” Natsu shrugs, and shoots Lucy a grin. “She brought you into the world. That’s enough, right?”
Lucy’s cheeks go pink at his words, and she deliberately looks away from him, staring out at the estate below them instead. “Natsu…”
“Also,” Natsu says, quieter, a little more reverent this time. “She opened the gate. And me and Wendy and Gajeel and the others came through. If not for that—”
“—Acnologia would’ve never been defeated?” Lucy fills in. He shakes his head; meets her gaze with a seriousness she clearly does not expect.
“I never would’ve met you.”
Lucy’s cheeks grow even darker as she holds his gaze, speechless. Natsu doesn’t know why she’s so surprised. After all this time—after—well. She has to know, doesn’t she? She has to know what she—
She’s Lucy. And she knows how to put this stuff into words way better than he could, anyway.
“I guess it’s a little crazy to think about,” Lucy breathes, eventually. “That you’ve been connected to my family for all this time, and neither of us even knew it.”
“Only took us four hundred years to actually meet,” Natsu jokes cheekily, and Lucy laughs, looking lighter than she has all evening. In response to her renewed happiness, he finds himself relaxing, too.
Lucy’s eyes go all soft, then, and she suddenly moves closer, pressing into his side, no longer looking at him.
“Thank you,” Lucy murmurs. She rests her golden head on his shoulder. “For coming up here. For being here.”
“Weirdo,” Natsu scoffs, but it comes out sounding disgustingly fond and gentle. “Where else would I be?”
Her answering laugh reverberates through him, and something settles in him, as he looks back up at the sky; the feeling of her warm body pressed into his and the smell of hair flooding his senses.
They’re miles from home, and Natsu still really hates this job, but with Lucy like this, happy and content and by his side, he can’t find any true reason to complain, really.