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Chapter Text

Chapter One
The Celestial Tears

The court of Mercurius Castle bustled with guests from around the kingdom. Lords and nobles, viscounts and barons, all adorned in their finest garments, attire befitting an audience with the Heartfilias, the current ruling family of the Kingdom of Fiore.

Tonight held special significance for them. Their lineage traced back to the ancient kingdom of Stella, the isle of stars, and they were hosting a regal banquet for the meteor shower that was to be gracing the night sky that year – ‘The Celestial Tears’, as it had come to be known.

Among the crowd of chattering nobles stood little eight-year-old Lucy, resplendent in her gold dress woven from stellarium thread that caught and held the moonlight. The steady stream of compliments she received for such an exquisite dress lifted her spirits, though the praise felt strangely hollow against the loneliness that had been her constant companion of late.

Her tutoring sessions had grown increasingly demanding, consuming every hour of daylight and leaving no room for play. Worse still, there was a distinct lack of children of suitable station to accompany her within the palace walls. She found herself adrift in a sea of adults, their conversations uninteresting and meaningless to her.

Her father had noticed her melancholy. As he stood on the great balcony, awaiting the meteors’ passage across the night sky while chatting with a small circle of lords he counted among his closest allies, he couldn’t help but observe his daughter from time to time. She lingered at the edge of the grand hall, her small hands clasped together, looking remarkably lost despite being surrounded by hundreds of guests.

“Say, Lord Dragneel,” he said, turning toward his companion with a slight tilt of his head.

“Come on Jude, we’ve been friends for ages; call me by my first name already,” Lord Dragneel responded, raising his goblet of celebratory wine with casual indifference to etiquette before taking another generous swig. Lucy had never really spoken to him or any of the Lords that surrounded her father. She knew he was important, owned a lot of land, and he had a tendency to ruffle the feathers of many of the nobles.

“Alright, Igneel.” King Jude gestured toward Lucy, who had now settled into a chair, her gaze fixed downward at her folded hands. “See my daughter over there? You have a son here tonight, do you not? Perhaps ask him to entertain her for a while.”

Igneel chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. “Are you certain about that? He’s quite the wild one.”

“He’s the son of a dear friend and of noble blood, I can hardly imagine he’d pose any real problem,” King Jude said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Alright, if you insist.” Igneel set his goblet down on the stone balustrade and departed in search of his son.

Jude approached his daughter, his expression softening with paternal warmth as he hoped this introduction might lift her spirits on one of the year’s most beautiful nights.

“Lucy, sweetheart, come meet our guests.”

Lucy smoothed the folds of her dress with careful precision and straightened her posture as she rose, curiosity flickering across her features. She had already been introduced to every noble present this evening. Even at eight years old, she moved with the practised grace of someone who understood that every gesture was observed and evaluated by watchful eyes.

A moment later, Lord Dragneel returned with his son trailing beside him. The boy looked thoroughly annoyed at having been interrupted from whatever activity had previously occupied his attention. His clothes, which Lucy assumed had begun the evening neat and proper, now bore the telltale signs of adventure – buttons undone, hair tousled into wild disarray, and what appeared to be a drink stain spreading down one sleeve.

“Lucy, do you remember Lord Dragneel?” her father said warmly, his hand settling gently on her shoulder. “This is his son, Natsu. As you know, Lord Dragneel is one of our most trusted allies, and I thought you and young Natsu might enjoy each other’s company while we discuss business.”

Natsu regarded her with open curiosity, cocking his head to one side like an inquisitive bird. “She’s kinda short for a princess.”

“Natsu,” his father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What? She is!” Natsu grinned with complete shamelessness, spreading his arms wide for emphasis. “I thought princesses were supposed to be tall and more sparkly.”

Lucy blinked rapidly, caught off guard by such directness. Her tutors had never prepared her for conversations quite like this. “I... well, I suppose I might grow taller eventually?”

King Jude chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Perhaps you could show young master Natsu the gardens, dear? I’m sure he’d enjoy exploring them while Lord Dragneel and I handle our boring political discussions.”

“If you think that would be appropriate, Father.” Lucy glanced uncertainly between the adults, seeking reassurance in their expressions.

“Go on,” Igneel encouraged with a gentle nudge to his son’s shoulder. “You could use some fresh air and space to run around.”

Lucy looked to her father once more, waiting for his subtle nod of approval, then turned to face Natsu. He was practically vibrating with barely contained energy, bouncing slightly on his toes as his eyes darted toward the large doors leading to the corridors.

She led him out of the banquet hall and down the marble stairs toward the palace gardens, their footsteps creating a rhythmic echo in the grand corridor that seemed to amplify in the vaulted space above them.

“How old are you?” Natsu asked casually, his voice carrying far more than it should in the hallway.

“Eight years, or one hundred and one moons,” Lucy answered with practised precision.

“Moons?” Natsu’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise. “You measure your age in moons? That’s... actually kind of cool. Like you’re part of some ancient religion or something.”

Lucy felt a small flutter of pride warm her chest. “My whole family does. It’s an important part of our ancestry; we’re descended from the Star Shepherds of Stella.”

“Yeah, I know, and measuring in moons seems fun,” Natsu admitted with genuine interest, then immediately contradicted himself by adding, “but also pretty weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Lucy retorted, a slight edge creeping into her voice as her cheeks flushed with indignation.

“So how many moons am I then? I’m nine if it helps.”

“I don’t know. I’d have to calculate it.”

Lucy quickened her pace, choosing to focus on navigating the familiar corridors rather than continue the conversation. She decided to skip the usual tour of the palace that most young nobles appreciated; somehow she doubted Natsu would be interested in hearing about the historical significance of each tapestry and portrait that lined the walls.

Her instincts proved correct when she noticed him beginning to touch everything they passed. His fingers trailed along the carved bannisters, he poked experimentally at the suits of armour standing at attention, and he even attempted to slide down a particularly smooth section of railing before she caught his arm with quick reflexes.

“Please don’t,” she said hurriedly, her eyes darting around nervously to check for observing servants. “The servants will think I’m not supervising you properly.”

“Supervising?” Natsu looked incredulous, his face scrunching in disbelief. “You’re eight years old, not my babysitter.”

Lucy felt heat rise in her cheeks. “I’m the princess. I’m supposed to make sure our guests are... are properly entertained.”

“What do princesses do anyway?” Natsu asked, abandoning his exploration of a marble statue to fall into step beside her, matching her pace with surprising consideration. “I mean, besides wear fancy dresses and worry about entertaining people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you just sit around in pretty clothes all day, or do you have to do other stuff too?”

“I have lessons,” Lucy said, working to keep the defensiveness from creeping into her voice. “They help me learn about caring for the kingdom when I’m older. History, languages, diplomacy, economics—”

“Boring stuff, then.”

Lucy stopped walking abruptly and whirled to face him, her dress swirling around her ankles. “It’s not boring! It’s important! Someday I’ll be responsible for thousands of people’s lives and—”

Natsu produced an exaggerated yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand in mock politeness.

“You’re annoying!” Lucy shouted, her hands curling into small fists at her sides.

She braced herself for an argument or more teasing, her shoulders tensing in preparation.

Instead, Natsu’s teasing smirk melted into something more genuine, his expression softening with what might have been approval. “See, that’s better,” he said, as if he were suddenly satisfied.

“What is?” Lucy asked through gritted teeth, her jaw clenched in frustration.

“When you stop playing princess.”

Lucy shook her head vigorously, her carefully arranged hair beginning to loosen from its pins. “What is that supposed to even mean? I am the princess!”

But Natsu was already looking past her, his attention caught by something beyond her shoulder. “The gardens were that way, right?”

“Yes—” Lucy began, but Natsu had already taken off ahead of her, his feet moving with surprising speed across the polished stone floors.

His sudden departure left her bewildered, then appalled that the son of a lord would behave with such casual disregard for royal protocol. The breach of etiquette stirred something in her that rarely surfaced in her carefully controlled life; genuine annoyance mixed with an unfamiliar spark of excitement.

Fearing what mischief he might cause if left to his own devices, she gathered her dress and chased after him. He moved with the confidence of someone who had spent considerable time running, his legs carrying him much faster than her formal dress would allow. He also seemed to navigate toward the gardens without any further direction from her, as if he possessed some internal compass that drew him toward open spaces.

She eventually caught up when she reached the garden courtyard, finding him standing in its centre. His head was tilted back, studying the statue of what Lucy had always assumed was a mermaid, her stone arms gracefully pouring an endless stream of water that shimmered into the ancient celestial fountain below. It was the main feature in the gardens and was often boasted of to any visiting guests. Lucy had always found the sculpture above it comforting in a way she couldn’t quite articulate.

“Why did you run off like that?” Lucy asked as she approached Natsu, still slightly breathless from her pursuit.

“I wanted to get to the part where we have fun faster,” he replied, his gaze fixed on the dancing patterns the water made as it fell. “The water here looks amazing.”

Lucy felt a surge of pride swell in her chest. “It’s been in my family for generations – they transported it here from Stella and the wizards worked hard to rebuild it. It’s said to have magical properties—”

“Can I touch the water?” Natsu was already moving toward the fountain’s edge, drawn by whatever had captured his interest.

“I... I suppose so. Just be careful not to—”

But Natsu had already plunged both hands into the crystal-clear water, his laughter bubbling up as the liquid sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight. “It’s warm! And it tingles!”

“That’s the natural magic,” Lucy said, stepping closer to join him at the fountain’s rim. “Legend says it’s a gift from the stars themselves.”

“Really?” Natsu’s eyes lit up with unmistakable mischief, a gleam that should have served as a warning. “What would happen if someone fell in?”

“You’re not going to—” Lucy began, alarm creeping into her voice, but Natsu was already climbing onto the fountain’s edge. He balanced precariously on the narrow stone rim as he reached toward something that glittered in the depths below.

“There’s something shiny down here,” he called back over his shoulder, stretching further over the water. “Looks like a coin or a key or something.”

“That’s just a decoration! You’re not supposed to take it!” Lucy rushed closer, her voice rising in panic as she watched him lean dangerously far over the water. “And you’re going to fall in!”

“I’m not going to—” Natsu’s foot slipped on the wet stone, and he tumbled forwards into the fountain with a tremendous splash that sent water cascading in all directions.

Lucy stood frozen, droplets of water splattered across her face, hair, and dress, her mouth agape at Natsu’s audacious behaviour. The soaked boy sat waist-deep in the fountain, grinning as if falling into the blessed waters was the most natural thing in the world, his hair now plastered to his head and his clothes were dripping wet.

“You—you—” Lucy sputtered, her carefully maintained composure finally cracking for the second time that evening. “You absolute fool! Do you have any idea how much trouble we’re going to be in? Father’s going to think I can’t even escort a guest around the gardens without them destroying priceless magical artifacts, and your father is going to—”

“Relax, Princess,” Natsu said, pushing himself to his feet and shaking water from his clothes like a dog emerging from a stream. “It’s just water. I’ll dry off quick.”

“It’s magically blessed water from the celestial fountain! If someone saw you now—”

“It’s just us here. All the grown-ups are doing boring stuff.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Yeah, it does. We can have fun. Just be ourselves without them watching.”

Lucy opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again as the words stuck in her throat. Somewhere, buried beneath layers of etiquette lessons and diplomatic training, a small voice whispered that he might actually have a point.

“When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?” Natsu asked, stepping closer, water still dripping steadily from his hair and creating small puddles at his feet. “Not because some grown-up said you had to, or because it was ‘appropriate’ or ‘important.’ Just because it sounded fun?”

Lucy looked right at him and actually studied him closely for the first time since they’d met. His clothes were soaked and clinging to his thin frame, his hair was a complete wet mess, and there was dirt from the garden grounds beginning to cake on his damp shoes. He looked like everything she’d been taught a proper noble child should never look like.

And yet, he also looked utterly free.

“I...” she whispered, then found her voice growing stronger, “I don’t know.”

“That’s messed up,” Natsu said, but his tone had gentled, losing its teasing edge.

Lucy felt something sharp and unwelcome in her chest – part anger, part recognition of an uncomfortable truth she’d never allowed herself to acknowledge. “It’s not! I have responsibilities, duties that are more important than just—”

“Than just what? Being happy?” Natsu shook his head, sending a spray of water droplets arcing through the moonlight. “That’s not fair.”

“Well, life isn’t fair,” Lucy snapped, the words emerging harsher than she’d intended, carrying years of suppressed frustration. “Some people have important things to do that matter more than having fun.”

“Says who?”

The simple question hit Lucy like a physical blow, stopping her protests cold. “Says... says everyone. My tutors, and Father, and all the Lords, and—”

“But what do YOU say?”

Lucy felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes and turned away quickly, not wanting him to see her weakness. “It doesn’t matter what I say.”

“Of course it does. You’re the only one who gets to be you.”

When Lucy looked back at him, Natsu was holding out his hand, still damp from the fountain water. Everything about him screamed improper, inappropriate, unacceptable by every standard she’d been taught to value as a princess.

“Come on,” he said simply, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to reach directly into her chest. “Let’s go do something stupid.”

Lucy stared at his outstretched hand, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” She looked at his hand, then back at his face—open, honest, completely unafraid of consequences or judgment. “Because what if someone sees us?”

“Then they see a couple of kids having fun. So what?”

Lucy felt herself wavering, caught between the stern voice in her head listing all the reasons this was a terrible idea and the strange, warm feeling blooming in her chest that whispered maybe, just this once, she could do what she wanted instead of what everyone expected.

Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and took his hand.

Natsu’s grin could have illuminated the entire garden, bright enough to rival the approaching meteors. “There she is.”

“’There who is? ‘”

“Lucy. Not Princess Lucy. Just... Lucy.”

His hand was warm and still slightly damp from the fountain water, his grip gentle but certain. Lucy felt a little thrill run through her; the intoxicating excitement of doing something forbidden, something that was just for her and no one else.

“So,” she whispered, glancing around nervously to ensure they remained unobserved, “what do we do now?”

Natsu tilted his head thoughtfully, bringing his free hand to his chin as he considered their options.

“First, we gotta sort out that fancy dress,” Natsu said, looking her up and down with practical assessment. “It doesn’t look like something you could play in.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide with shock. “But I can’t just take off my dress! What would I wear?”

“Not take it OFF, dummy. Just... make it less princess-y.” He removed some of the brooches and tugged at some of the ribbons much to her horror, protesting at first when he discarded them on the floor. Then Natsu tugged gently on her hand, leading her toward a cluster of fruit trees at the garden’s edge where shadows offered privacy. “Sit down.”

“On the ground? But it’s dirty—”

“It’s just dirt. It washes off.” Natsu plopped down on the grass without ceremony, patting the ground beside him. “See? I’m not dead.”

Lucy stared at the ground as if it might bite her. She’d never sat directly on grass before; there were always blankets or chairs or proper seating arrangements to maintain an appropriate distance from the earth.

“Come on,” Natsu said, his voice encouraging rather than mocking. “Trust me.”

Taking a deep breath that she hoped would steady her nerves, Lucy carefully lowered herself to sit beside him, trying to keep her skirt neat and arranged. The grass was softer than she’d expected, yielding beneath her weight, and surprisingly cool against her legs through the fabric. “Okay, now what?”

“Now we make you look less like a doll.” Before Lucy could protest, Natsu reached over and began pulling pins from her elaborately arranged hair.

“Hey! Stop that!” Lucy swatted at his hands, but he proved too quick for her defensive manoeuvres. “It took my maid an hour to do that!”

“And it looks like it took an hour. All stiff and weird.” Natsu dodged her attempts to reclaim the pins, his movements playful rather than malicious. “Hair’s supposed to move around.”

“It’s supposed to be neat and proper—” The complaint died in her throat as her blonde hair tumbled down around her shoulders in loose waves. She reached up to touch it experimentally, surprised by how light and free her head felt without the weight of the pins.

“Better,” Natsu announced, sitting back to admire his handiwork with obvious satisfaction. “Now you look like a real kid.”

Lucy wanted to argue, but something about having her hair loose made her feel fundamentally different. Freer, somehow, as if she’d shed some invisible weight she hadn’t realised she’d been carrying. “The advisors are going to be so mad.”

“When’s the last time you got in trouble?” Natsu asked suddenly, his tone curious rather than judgmental.

“I don’t get in trouble.”

“That’s boring. Everyone should get in trouble sometimes.” Natsu’s grin turned mischievous, his eyes sparkling. “Wanna know a secret?”

Despite her better judgment, Lucy found herself leaning closer, drawn by the conspiratorial tone in his voice. “What kind of secret?”

“I can do magic.”

Lucy blinked in confusion. “That’s not a secret. Lots of people can do magic. My father has employed many wizards, and—”

“Not like this.” Natsu held out his hand with his palm up, and Lucy watched in fascination as small scales appeared along the back of his hand, shimmering crimson-red in the moonlight like precious gems. Then, with a little puff of concentration that made his face scrunch adorably, a small flame flickered to life above his palm, dancing and wavering in the gentle night breeze.

“Whoa,” Lucy breathed, leaning even closer despite the heat radiating from the tiny fire. That was true – if the wizards wanted to make fire, they’d need some sort of magical dust or the like. Natsu made it look easy by comparison. “I’ve never seen magic like that before! Does it hurt?”

“Nah,” Natsu looked proud, his chest puffing slightly with satisfaction. “My dad says I’ll be able to do bigger flames when I’m older, but this is pretty cool, right?”

He closed his hand carefully, snuffing out the flame, and grinned at her with obvious pleasure at her reaction before suddenly staring at the scales on his hand and then tucking his hand away quickly so she couldn’t see it clearly.

“It’s really cool,” Lucy said earnestly, talking about the flame and unconsciously adopting his casual vocabulary. But she was interested in the other part of him too. She reached out without thinking, then hesitated, her hand hovering uncertainly in the air. “Can I... can I touch them? … The scales?”

Natsu’s expression grew uncertain, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he nodded and held his hand steady for her inspection. Lucy gently traced her finger along the scales, marvelling at their texture. They were smooth and warm to the touch, like polished stones that had been sitting in the sun all afternoon.

“Wow,” she said quietly, her voice filled with genuine wonder. “They’re warm like a candle.”

“My family’s had dragon blood in our veins going way back,” Natsu said, trying to sound casual but clearly pleased by her fascination rather than fear. “That’s why I can do the fire thing.”

Lucy looked up at him quickly, confusion creasing her brow. “Wait—dragon blood?”

Natsu pulled his hand back, his expression growing uncertain once more as he seemed to realise what he’d revealed. “… Yeah.”

Lucy knew the legends intimately; who didn’t, after all? They formed a core part of the kingdom’s history – in fact, the entire continent’s past. The tales spoke of long-extinct dragons that once reigned over the lands, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. Creatures that hunted for sport, sought treasure above all else, and killed without mercy or remorse.

Lucy watched as Natsu’s scales faded away, leaving no evidence of his magic, and she suddenly felt as if she’d walked into an invisible wall. The boisterous boy who had been so full of confidence now seemed deeply unsure of himself, his shoulders hunching slightly as if preparing for rejection.

She reached out and took his hand once more, scales or not, much to his obvious surprise.

“Your magic is way cooler than mine,” she said simply, offering him an honest smile that reached her eyes.

Natsu seemed to accept this reassurance, his posture relaxing as he allowed his scales to reappear, as if they had just been gently hiding just beneath his skin. Lucy found herself fascinated by the phenomenon; she could observe nothing in his hand to suggest he had hundreds of tiny openings for them to emerge from.

“Dad says when I get older... the scales will always be visible. I won’t be able to hide them any more,” he explained, his voice carrying a note of resignation that seemed far too mature for a nine-year-old.

“I wonder why it works like that,” Lucy replied, curious as ever. “Is your dad the same?”

Natsu nodded slowly. “Yeah, but he’s always wearing long sleeves and stuff to hide them when he comes to these events. He says the ‘noble-folk’ get worried when they see them. Most of the time he doesn’t care if people see them.”

“That’s silly,” Lucy said quickly, her voice carrying fierce conviction. “You shouldn’t have to cover them up like that.”

“I dunno,” Natsu answered, leaning back to lie down on the grass, his boundless energy finally tamed by Lucy’s acceptance. “Dad’s got scales up his arms, across his shoulders, on the sides of his neck… must be pretty weird for some people.”

Lucy made the decision to lie back with him, her eyes finding the stars scattered across the cloudless night sky, spotting constellations with ease.

Natsu changed the topic suddenly, not from discomfort but as if a thought had just occurred to him. “What’s your magic, Lucy?”

The question caught her off guard, making her stomach flutter with unexpected nervousness. She wasn’t particularly keen on discussing her abilities.

“It’s not as good as yours,” she answered evasively, dodging the question entirely.

“It’s star stuff, right? I heard all the royals were supposed to have that.”

Lucy’s hand twitched awkwardly at her side. “... It’s really not that impressive and I can’t show it to you right now, we’re not in the right place for it.”

Natsu sat up, genuine confusion written across his features. “What do you mean?”

“… It’s not anything fancy, okay?” Lucy reiterated, feeling decidedly boring compared to Natsu’s dramatic flames and beautiful scales. “I’ll show it to you if you visit again, but you should be prepared to be unimpressed – it’s nothing special.”

“Hey.” Natsu’s voice softened with understanding. “Just ‘cause you can’t make fire appear doesn’t mean you’re not special.”

“How do you know?”

“’Cause you’re the first person who didn’t look at my scales like I was gonna eat them.” Natsu’s grin returned, warm and genuine. “Plus, you’re way more interesting when you’re not doing that princess voice.”

Lucy felt warmth spread across her cheeks. “I don’t have a princess voice.”

“You totally do. All proper and boring. But right now you sound like Lucy. It’s better.”

They settled into comfortable silence, listening to the distant sounds of the party drifting down from the upper levels of the palace balconies; laughter, music, and the occasional shout of excitement. The first meteors were beginning to streak across the sky, leaving golden trails against the darkness beyond.

“Look,” Lucy whispered, pointing upward with wonder in her voice. “The Celestial Tears are starting.”

Natsu hummed approvingly as Lucy continued gazing upward, a peaceful smile spreading across her face.

“They look cool,” Natsu said quietly. “Like shooting stars.”

“They happen every nine to ten years,” Lucy began eagerly, ready to share her knowledge. “Father said—”

Natsu shot her a look, gentle but pointed, as if reminding her that she didn’t need to perform or educate him like he was just another guest she needed to impress.

Lucy caught his meaning and insisted with renewed enthusiasm, “It’s a good story, really! Not just facts.”

“Okay then,” Natsu replied, getting himself comfortable and placing his arms behind his head like a pillow.

“So a long time ago, there was a lonely king who ruled the night sky. He looked at all the bright stars around him and decided he needed friends to keep him company.”

“The meteors?” Natsu interjected, his curiosity genuine.

“I’ll get to it!” Lucy insisted with playful exasperation. “So with the brightest stars, he created a whole bunch of powerful spirits from their light. They all lived in his kingdom for a very long time until one day, one of the star spirits came to him and said they needed a purpose to exist.”

“Like something to do?” Natsu asked, working to follow the story.

“Exactly! So the king allowed them to leave the kingdom to find their purpose.”

“And?”

“They found people in the world below, but the people weren’t as happy as the spirits were, so the spirits tried to help them.”

“What’d they do?”

“Some gave them fire,” Lucy said first, smiling when she saw Natsu’s face light up at the mention. “Some gave them water. Some even gave them music to lift their spirits.”

“What’s this got to do with the meteors?”

“I’m getting to it—you’re really impatient!” Lucy replied quickly, though her tone held more amusement than annoyance. “So eventually, the king noticed they had been gone for a very long time and he called them all back. The spirits were sad to leave, but the king told them that the people needed to figure these things out for themselves.”

“And then?”

“And then he decided that each spirit could rule over one cycle of the moon to help the people without making life too easy for them.”

“So, you have a spirit looking out for you?” Natsu asked with growing interest. “Which one?”

“Well, the scholars said I was a complicated case because I was born between two moon phases—”

“Uh, okay.”

“—so my spirit is technically Aquarius, whose role is to move water, but in my case, they say that Aquarius might benefit me more with more water-like effects than just moving water because the books say—”

“This is starting to sound like a lecture—”

“Sorry, I’m getting carried away...” Lucy paused, then brightened. “But that’s just one way the story ends. The other one, my favourite, is that the king decided that once in every one hundred and twenty moons, the spirits can visit the people again and give their hidden gifts.”

“One hundred and twenty moons?”

“Around ten years.”

“How is that better?”

Lucy pointed upward again at the meteors, her face glowing with excitement. “Because that’s what those are— the spirits, coming to visit everyone again, but always secretly.”

“So you’re saying tonight there are lots of spirits walking around and giving us things we can’t see?”

“Yes, isn’t that wonderful?” Lucy asked, her face beaming with the joy of sharing a tale she truly loved. This was technically her first visit from the spirits, if it were truly more than just a tale, and despite the lonely start to the night, she was excited for this moment.

Natsu lay back in thoughtful contemplation. “I wonder what they’ll give me, y’know, if they even give gifts to non-star people.”

“They do,” Lucy reassured him. “I can’t wait for mine.”

They watched the celestial display in comfortable silence for a while longer, Lucy occasionally sharing additional details about various spirits but nothing that overwhelmed Natsu or lost his attention.

Lucy pondered what her own gift might be, but deep down, she already knew the answer. It was obvious really, sitting right beside her under the starlit sky.

She had been given a friend.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

The Solar

Lucy had always considered herself the pragmatic sort of girl, not that she had any comparisons. Her role in life had been simple to follow for the longest time. Get woken up by whoever was in charge of her that day, usually Spetto, her caretaker. Wake up late (her family always stayed up late to have more of the night). Bathe, dress suitably for lessons, hair dried and brushed until it felt like silk, attend breakfast with father and then begin said lessons. It had been that way for the longest time, even when her mother had still been around until illness took her.

Then her father had her meet Natsu and her perspective on life began to shift.

He was meant as a way to entertain her, but instead of just doing purely that, he was showing her another world where you could be someone else. One afternoon, she was an expert wizard, much like the ones that were hired in the palace, casting spells she didn’t have alongside Natsu, who would play the role of a fiery warrior and together they would defeat a terrible monster that wasn’t really there.

Another game – she was the naughty thief who stole an apple from the market (the kitchen really) and he was the overzealous knight who would chase after her in the lengthy corridors of the gigantic palace, demanding her surrender. She had never laughed so much before in her life.

There were times when he asked to see her magic, but she delayed it each and every time, not wanting to be a disappointment and scare off her new friend with how unimpressive it was.

Then one day, out of nowhere, Natsu suddenly asked her, ‘Why doesn’t the palace have a queen?’

Lucy was shocked at first, wondering if Natsu had been taught anything at all about the land he lived in. She thought it had been common knowledge that her mother, the late queen, had passed years earlier when she was still so young. And answering his innocent question had then churned up faded memories of her mother – memories of her reading her stories, of being held in her arms as she dozed in and out of sleep when she was ill, and perhaps the fondest of all, her mother’s tales of the stars above.

It brought about a strange feeling within her that day. She simultaneously felt lonely but radiantly warm at the same time, as if her mother’s spirit knew that she was deeply missed and quietly comforting her from wherever she rested.

Perhaps her father noticed her sudden but short-lived melancholy because her routine shifted again the next day.

“We’ve hired a new tutor for you today, Lucy,” said one of the King’s advisors as she entered the study room that contained a single desk just for her and bookcase after bookcase of all the literature she needed to be educated with.

A woman was waiting for her with a stern look on her face. Her arms were crossed like she had already done something wrong and her eyes were sharp and blue, much like her long hair. Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond; her previous tutors could be strict but they also always looked at her as if she were a lovely doll to fawn over.

“So, is this her?” The woman asked, her voice sounding unimpressed.

“Hello,” Lucy said shyly, curtseying.

The advisor replied politely. “Yes, this is Princess Lucy. Princess, this is Mistress Aquarius. She will be your primary tutor for the foreseeable future.”

“Yes sir,” Lucy replied. Normally, as she had been taught, the advisors were to speak to her in a similar way in which they spoke to her father, but that was for when she was older, after she would be presented before the kingdom as their royal princess – a formal ceremony declaring her commitment to her role.

The advisor left and Aquarius looked at her expectantly.

Lucy didn’t notice, her thoughts racing as she had already pieced together that Aquarius, the spirit that ruled over her birthday, shared the same name as the woman in front of her and she was wondering if that was a coincidence.

“Well, are you going to sit down or not?” Aquarius suddenly snapped.

“Yes ma’am!” Lucy squeaked, taking her seat promptly. The question burned within her and she needed to ask it. Normally, she would have been patient, polite and wait to be spoken to before opening her mouth to speak – but her changing perspective now had her more inquisitive than ever before thanks to Natsu’s influence.

“Miss Aquarius, please, can I ask if you were named after the celestial spirit?” Lucy asked, holding her hand up but not waiting to be asked.

“If you’re going to be taught by me, then you will learn to wait before asking any questions, got it?” Aquarius replied sharply.

Lucy felt small in her presence and placed her hands in her lap, her face looking down at the desk, feeling embarrassed.

Aquarius turned to the chalkboard and wrote out her lesson plan. Classical History. “To satisfy your curiosity, yes, I was named after the spirit.” Her response was sharp and to the point, leaving no room for more questions. Lucy wanted to ask more but held her tongue. “Let’s start with finding out what you know about Stellarian history.”

The lesson continued as planned and as Lucy came to find, Aquarius was actually a very good teacher. She taught her a lot about the ancient kingdom of Stella that was little more than mere ruins now, but temples to the spirits and to the King of the Night Sky were still somewhat intact.

Nearing the end of her lesson, which Lucy knew from the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, Aquarius turned to her and placed a piece of parchment down on the desk in front of her alongside a quill and an inkwell.

“Your final task for today – I want you to draw me two pictures,” Aquarius said, more of a demand than a request.

“What should I draw?” Lucy asked, finding this to be a strange change in lesson structure.

“Draw me the King of the Celestials.”

Lucy scrunched her nose slightly at the odd demand, but Aquarius didn’t comment on it. She took her quill to the ink, dipping it in gently and removing the excess as she had always been taught to do and placed it on the parchment.

Drawing with a quill felt unnatural; a paintbrush would have made more sense, but she tried her best.

Lucy recalled all the images of that King in every picture she had seen of him as well as the statues that could be found in various places around the palace. He had many names – of the night sky, of the celestials, the spirit King.

She started with his armour first, to protect him from the dark forces that would battle with him. Then, she drew his long beard and fierce eyes. Then she drew his stave that commanded the will of the stars.

Once she was done, she handed Aquarius the parchment, thinking she had done a half-decent job at it.

“Hm,” Aquarius grunted. “It’s certainly an interesting rendition. Now draw me a second picture.”

“Of what?” Lucy asked as Aquarius laid a second piece of parchment down on the desk.

“Draw me what you think the King of Celestials looks like.” The emphasis on you was not lost on Lucy.

Curious and confused by the demand, Lucy once again dipped her quill into the ink, shaking off the excess and placed it to the parchment, but she found herself hesitant to move it. She didn’t understand the question.

Looking up at her new tutor, she hoped Aquarius might offer more advice on her demand, but she stood still, arms crossed, expectant.

Lucy reiterated the question in her mind. What she thought the King of the night sky looked like? She had always thought he looked as he was normally described as looking like… hadn’t she? Her mind drifted to the stories that were more fairy tales than actual history and nobody had seen him in person as far as she was aware.

But perhaps that was the point.

So Lucy tried to think back to how she thought he looked in her mind, before she could read or traverse the palace freely to see the images and statues.

She moved the quill slowly, uncertain as to what she was doing but trying to capture what came to mind. This time she drew him without the long beard, but with a long moustache instead. He had a wide smile and horns, like he had the lineage of a fierce being or creature that made him look strong. Finally, she never thought a stave suited him, replacing it with a large sword instead.

She put down the quill and looked up at Aquarius in hope that she would be satisfied with it, although perhaps the moustache was slightly overdone.

Aquarius stood behind her this time, leaning over her shoulder as she eyed it carefully.

“Not bad,” she finally said with an approving tone. “Do you understand why I asked this task of you?”

Lucy shook her head, confused.

“When you figure it out, I want you to tell me, got it?” Aquarius said, probably a little harsher than she intended.

“Yes ma’am,” Lucy replied and her lesson ended promptly afterwards.

For many days afterwards, even as the lessons continued on in their usual manner and Lucy came to enjoy Aquarius’ style of teaching, Lucy pondered what Aquarius had asked of her that day. Those two drawings of the Celestial King were nailed into the stone walls of the study room and Lucy found herself drawn to looking at them, trying to figure out the difference and what she was supposed to learn from them.

It had her thinking for many more days until she promptly forgot about it when Lord Dragneel was visiting the palace once more with Natsu in tow and whatever lesson Aquarius might have been hoping to teach her came second to her new friendship.

The east wing tower had become their new kingdom to explore, having traversed away from the corridors and empty rooms in the rest of the palace. Mercurius Castle was old, centuries old, and many times had been rebuilt, whether from wars or dragonfire and what stood now was a fine palace of marble on layers of ancient stone and fortifications. Old passages were waiting to be uncovered and many towers were no longer used, having previously been used for dealing with dragon attacks on the city long ago. They chose such a tower, now in a state of disrepair and it creaked at night when battered by the wind. Lucy knew she wasn’t supposed to be here – this part of the castle wasn’t meant for a princess, but with Natsu there, she found defiance much easier to do.

She pressed her small hand against the cold stone wall, tracing the ivy that crept through cracks in the ancient masonry, her mind imagining the tower a little differently.

“This is where we make our final stand!” Natsu declared from behind her, scrambling halfway up the old staircase with the fearless grace of a nine-year-old. His pink hair caught the dusty sunlight streaming through the rattling windows. “The dragon will come for us here!”

“Then you’ve got to slay it, Natsu!” Lucy shouted up to him.

Natsu grinned mischievously as he summoned flames in his palms, brilliant red scales coated his arms after his sleeves had rolled up in his excitement. He blew against the flames in his hand to imitate the act of breathing fire.

Lucy giggled and followed him up the stairs.

“It’s an ice-shadow dragon,” Natsu declared. “So my fire can beat it easily.”

“Well I helped too!” Lucy protested. “I helped lead it here!”

“Yeah, you did,” Natsu said, grinning at her. “And it was no match for us!”

He quickly looked up, tracing the old spiral staircase with his eyes before looking back at Lucy expectantly. He extended his hand. “Let’s go to the very top!”

They went step by step until they finally reached the highest window they could find, albeit bolted shut. There was no point trying to leave through the locked door nearby to go to the bastions of the palace, or rather, Lucy refused to by her father’s orders. It was dangerous to be that high up on the rooftops.

Natsu pointed out at the scenery below, although it wasn’t the clearest view with the degradation of the window. The view from the tower stretched across the castle grounds, the city and the city walls and beyond—rolling hills, distant forests, mountains, and roads that seemed to lead to the very edge of the world.

Lucy knew the locations from her lessons on geography. The snow-capped mountains far in the distance were rumoured to be the home of dragons once upon a time, although she imagined they would be quite cold if they lived near the peaks. The closest forest to them that didn’t look so far away from where they stood inside the castle – it was supposedly ancient and haunted.

Natsu pressed his face against the window, his breath fogging the dirty glass. “Look how far that road goes,” he said, his voice full of longing. “I bet it leads to places with ancient ruins and treasure and people who need help. We could follow it and have real adventures, not just pretend ones.”

Lucy felt her heart leap at the idea, then immediately sink. “I... I can’t, Natsu. I’m a princess. I have duties here.”

“But don’t you want to?” He turned to study her face, hope and disappointment in his expression. “Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

Lucy bit her lip, the internal battle clear on her young face. “More than anything,” she whispered. “But I can’t just leave. Father says I have to learn to be a proper queen someday. The people need me here.”

“What if...” Natsu hesitated, then plunged ahead with the reckless hope of childhood. “What if we could help people better by going out there? What if staying in the castle isn’t the only way to be good?”

“That’s for the knights and hunters to do,” Lucy replied quietly. “I’m supposed to be here. Supposed to learn things and one day marry a prince.”

Natsu scoffed, looking offended at the notion. “Well, you can change things then as the queen. Make it so you don’t have to be here.”

Lucy looked unsure, her expression one of uncertainty and a spark of hope that it could be something she could truly do. The prospect never occurred to her before. As sole ruler once her father passed or abdicated if it came to it, surely she would have options? But it would be more than likely that she was expected to keep things as they were because that was what worked as far as she knew.

Then she considered that things wouldn’t be so easy for Natsu either.

“What about you, Natsu?” she asked, her hand unconsciously moving toward where she knew his dragon scales hid beneath his sleeve, under his skin. “Doesn’t it worry you that people might be scared of your magic?”

Lucy had seen it first hand even though Natsu seemed oblivious to the fact as they roamed the castle together. The way the knights when during training in the barracks saw him pass in their play – a moment of unease would pass between them when they would see him running with his scales flared up in his excitement of the game they were playing.

She’d heard the guards talk after Natsu would leave with his dad after their visits – the words they shared about them being related to the monsters that slaughtered their ancestors. That Natsu’s magic was too powerful for a child to have. The fearful whispers that he or his father could destroy the city with their own powers if they really wanted to.

But Natsu shook his head at her concern. “Nah.”

Lucy looked at him incredulously, expecting a different response. He surely must have heard them talking with his hearing being so much stronger than hers. Another trait of his bloodline as far as she was aware.

“But—” she began.

“—I don’t care what they think. I am who I am.” Natsu’s resolve was firm, although she could see his knuckles tense, the scales flaring for just a moment before vanishing again.

Lucy took his hand into hers gently for reassurance. “Just like I’m just Lucy, right?”

Natsu smiled widely. “Yeah, exactly.”

He squeezed her hand back as he took another look out of the window. Lucy felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with Natsu’s fire magic.

“Promise me something,” Natsu said suddenly, his voice intense in the way only children could be when making the most important vows of their lives.

“What?”

“Promise me that someday, when we’re grown up and you’ve done all your princess duties... promise me we’ll go on that adventure. Even if it takes years and years.”

Natsu’s expression grew solemn, understanding that this wasn’t just child’s play any more. This was a vow, a dream they were both choosing to share. He held out his pinky finger on his other hand.

“I promise, Lucy. When we’re old enough, we’ll explore everything. Just you and me and whoever else wants to come with us.”

She didn’t need to consider it. She linked her pinky with his, sealing the promise. “Just you and me, and whoever else too,” she repeated softly.

She felt the warmth in both of their interlocked fingers, like there was real magic there. Natsu let go seconds later, satisfied with their new commitment.

“I’ve got friends,” Natsu said suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to him. “Gray and Lisanna. They’re from other noble families, but they’re not like the grown-ups – they’re fun too. Gray can make ice sculptures that look exactly like real things, and Lisanna can turn into different animals. Maybe... maybe you could meet them? I could ask my dad and—”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “—Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?!”

Natsu shrugged. “I dunno, just didn’t think of it before.”

“Of course I want to meet them!”

Natsu smiled, happy to oblige, although there was something calm about his demeanour that Lucy felt was just a little off.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it as from far below, Lucy heard her name being called—Aquarius had discovered her absence after she had let their play go on too long for her tutor’s liking. The real world was intruding on their magical kingdom once again.

“I have to go,” she said reluctantly.

“Tomorrow?” Natsu asked hopefully. “Same time?”

“Tomorrow,” Lucy agreed. “And Natsu? Next time the Lords are here, I want to meet them, your friends.”

It was soon announced that Natsu was to be visiting again with his father for a formal event but not solely them – the other lords too were bringing their children and Lucy was actually excited for once for the royal banquet that would take place. Lucy didn’t know the reason for the banquet; Aquarius had mentioned something in one of her lessons about it, but she hadn’t paid attention once she knew there would be other children in attendance.

Days later, Lucy finished her lessons for the day and scrambled as fast as she could to her chambers, wanting to be ready as soon as possible for meeting them. At first, out of habit, she went for one of her fine dresses which was expected of her, but paused as she browsed them all.

Natsu and his friends meant playing—which meant no extravagant dresses and overdone hair that would get in the way. She picked out a much simpler garment and insisted to Spetto once she arrived to help her dress that she wanted her hair down without all the usual frills.

Spetto, as expected, couldn’t fully agree to Lucy’s demands or her role as her caretaker would be brought into question. With much persuasion on both their parts, they agreed that the simple dress would be fine with lavish jewellery that she could remove if she needed to, as long as it was out of sight of her father. Her hair would be worn down but she had to wear her tiara as was the expectation as the crown princess.

Lucy was soon ready and escorted from her chambers, a much happier version of herself than when she usually was when she had to attend the royal events, as well as both nervous and excited for the idea of maybe having made more friends by the end of the evening.

The Great Hall, where the majority of formal gatherings were held blazed with hundreds of candles, their iridescent light that came from the Stellanium power coated on the wicks danced off golden plates and crystal goblets laid out on the long feasting tables. Lucy sat at the high table beside her father, trying to look interested in the endless parade of courses while her eyes searched the crowd for a familiar head of pink hair.

“Princess Lucy,” her father murmured, not looking away from his conversation with a Lord she had already forgotten the name of. “Remember to sit straight. A princess maintains a perfect posture.”

Lucy straightened automatically, but her attention was caught by a flash of movement near the servants’ entrance. Natsu appeared, tugging at his formal doublet with obvious discomfort, followed by a dark-haired boy about his age and a girl with white hair who moved with unusual grace.

Natsu caught her eye and gave her a barely perceptible nod toward the side corridor. Lucy’s heart jumped. This was it, her chance to finally have more friends.

“Father,” she said sweetly, “may I be excused? I believe I should pay my respects to the other noble ladies.”

King Jude waved her away absently, too absorbed in his political discussions to pay close attention to her white lie.

Lucy slipped away from the high table, moving through the crowd with practised ease until she reached the shadowy corridor where the three children waited.

“Lucy!” Natsu grinned. “These are my friends I told you about. Gray Fullbuster and Lisanna Strauss.”

Gray looked exactly as Natsu had described to her earlier in the week—serious dark eyes and an oddly mature bearing for someone barely ten years old. He bowed formally. “Your Highness. It’s an honour.”

“Oh, please don’t,” Lucy said quickly, glancing around to make sure no adults were watching. “Just Lucy. Please.”

Lisanna stepped forward with a warm smile. Natsu hasn’t described her much beforehand but she came off as friendly and well-mannered. “Natsu’s told us so much about you. He says you’re the best at hide-and-seek in the entire castle.”

Lucy felt a flush of pride. “I know a lot of the secret passages. There are dozens of them: old servants’ corridors and forgotten rooms. Would you... would you like to see?”

“Really?” Gray’s formal mask slipped, revealing the curious boy beneath. “The castle’s supposed to really ancient.”

“It is! It’s survived so much for so many centuries,” Lucy stated, opening her mouth to begin telling more facts before stopping herself. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear all the stories just yet.”

“I absolutely would,” Lisanna said kindly. “It’s amazing that you know so much about your home and castles often have the best stories.”

Lucy felt a warm glow in her chest. These children weren’t talking to her like she was made of glass or treating her like a prize to be won. They were just... talking to her.

“Come on,” she whispered, leading them down a narrow corridor lined with tapestries. “There’s a room up here that’s been locked for decades. Even the servants don’t have the key any more.”

They climbed a spiral staircase that grew narrower as they ascended, until they reached a heavy wooden door bound with iron. An ornate lock, green with age, held it firmly shut.

“This used to be a lady’s solar,” Lucy explained, running her fingers over the carved door. “But the lock mechanism broke sometime before I was born, and Father said it wasn’t worth the expense to have a locksmith come and open it for a room that wouldn’t be used anyway.”

“So no one’s been inside?” Natsu asked, his eyes bright with curiosity.

“No one.”

Gray examined the lock with keen interest. “That’s a design from Iceberg, where my family was originally from… See these engravings of the wolves? This must have been built when this kingdom was ruled by a King from there.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lisanna agreed. “But if it’s broken...”

Lucy took a deep breath. She’d been nervous about demonstrating her magic in front of Natsu, but all three of them? What if they all thought her magic was too small, too unimpressive compared to their flashy abilities that Natsu had described?

But looking at their faces, open, curious and friendly, she felt that it was finally time to put her magic to use, regardless of what they might think of it. She couldn’t hide it forever.

“Actually,” she said quietly, “I might be able to help with that.”

She placed her finger on the ancient lock and closed her eyes, feeling for the familiar tingle of magic in her fingertips, a simple golden glow appeared. It was like sensing the shape of something in the dark; the tumblers, the springs, the delicate mechanism that had seized with age and neglect.

Click.

The lock fell open with a soft metallic sound.

All three children stared at her in amazement.

“How did you—?” Gray started.

“That was magic! Your magic!” Natsu exclaimed, grinning widely.

“It’s not very impressive,” Lucy said quickly, suddenly self-conscious. “I mean, compared to fire like Natsu’s, opening locks seems pretty—”

“Are you kidding?” Lisanna interrupted. “Do you know how useful that is? Gray, remember when we got locked in my family’s wine cellar last month?”

“And the time Natsu accidentally melted the key to my father’s study when he got angry about something,” Gray added, shooting his friend a look.

“That was an accident!” Natsu protested, but he was still beaming at Lucy. “I knew you had some useful magic! You should have showed it off earlier, we coulda’ gone way more places in this castle!”

Lucy felt tears prick her eyes, but happy tears this time. “You really think it’s useful? Father always says practical magic is less impressive than combat magic… and I’m not even supposed to use it without asking first.” Her father had also said that her magic however, was suitable for a princess – that combat magic was unbecoming of a lady.

“Your father’s probably never been locked out of somewhere important,” Gray said dryly.

“And it’s yours,” Lisanna added softly. “No one else can probably do the same thing as you just did.”

Lucy pushed open the door, revealing a circular room filled with dusty furniture covered in white, moth-eaten sheets. Low sunlight streamed through diamond-paned windows, dimly illuminating motes of dust that danced in the air. It wasn’t overly large or small, just perfect for the four of them.

“Our secret room,” Natsu declared, stepping inside with reverence. “What do you think it was used for?”

“For the ladies of the castle to relax in peace away from the menfolk back in the day,” Lucy said confidently, knowing every role of the rooms in castle, whether they were still in use or not.

“So it’s ours then?” Lisanna asked, directed to Lucy. “If you would be willing to open it for us each time?”

“If you all want to do that with me?” Lucy asked hopefully. “Then we could meet here? When there are boring parties?”

“Absolutely,” Gray said, pulling the sheet off what turned out to be a chess set. “This is perfect.”

Lisanna uncovered a comfortable reading chair and settled into it with a satisfied sigh. “Finally, somewhere we can just be ourselves.”

Lucy looked around at her new friends; Gray already examining the chess pieces with tactical interest, Lisanna curled up in the chair like a contented cat, and Natsu exploring the room with his boundless energy. For the first time in her life, she felt like she truly belonged somewhere.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” Natsu asked, turning from the window where he’d been looking out at the gardens.

“For letting me be part of this. For not treating me like I’m different.”

“You are different,” Gray said bluntly. “You’re a princess. But you’re also Lucy, and that’s who we want to be friends with.”

“Besides,” Lisanna added with a mischievous smile, “we’re all different in our own way. That’s what makes us interesting.”

Lucy didn’t have to wait to ask for a demonstration of new friends’ magic when she was curious as to what made them different.

Lisanna was smiling one moment and then her eyes changed with a slow, deliberate blink. Instead of cerulean blue, they were then amber gold with the dark pupils of a cat. Lucy pictured that an animal transformation spell would be horrific to observe after Natsu had told her what Lisanna could do. She imagined twisting limbs and shrinking body parts. Instead, the transformation was fast, over within seconds as Lisanna moved from her chair.

One moment she was Lisanna, the next, she was a flawless white cat standing on the cloth-covered table centered in the middle of the room.

Lucy let out a shriek, but not from shock but of excitement. She had thought Natsu’s magic was beautiful, but Lisanna’s opened up all kinds of possibilities of things they could do together.

“Can I pet you?” Lucy asked without thinking, holding out her hand for Lisanna to sniff, as if she were a real cat. She knew that cats didn’t really wear emotions in the same way that humans did, but if Lucy had to guess, she thought Lisanna might be laughing.

Lucy tentatively petted Lisanna on the back, feeling real fur, soft as goose feathers, almost as if the quality of it matched Lisanna’s formal wear for that evening.

In a flash, Natsu bounded over and grabbed Lisanna, holding him over his head, giggling. Lisanna meowed loudly as Natsu started spinning her around playfully. “Finally, some revenge for that last game we played!”

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of her, Natsu as mischievous as ever. She felt a nudge from Gray and looked over to him at the chess set, a blush overcoming his cheeks.

“If they’re going to mess around, want to play a game of chess with me? I figured princesses would know how to play.”

Lucy found sudden shyness odd, like he wasn’t used to asking people. Looking back over at Natsu and Lisanna, she assumed that they most likely weren’t the types who would know how to play it.

“Of course,” Lucy said gladly, taking a seat opposite him. She quickly spotted a problem – a few of the ivory pieces were missing.

“Oh – perhaps we can substitute something?” Lucy suggested, pointing to the empty spaces.

“I’ve got this,” Gray said, grinning with confidence suddenly. He placed his finger on an empty space and she watched it glow blue; suddenly recalling that Natsu said he can make ice statues.

He flicked his finger up and in an instant, a piece nearly identical to the others was there, made of pure ice.

“Wow, that’s really amazing,” Lucy said, genuinely impressed at his show of magic. “Can you make anything?”

“Not everything…” Gray said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I’ve got a lot of things to practice still.”

Lucy nodded understandingly. The small icy chess piece was not highly detailed and not a complete perfect copy of its original counterpart. He probably needed to focus a lot to achieve what was already there and that probably required a lot of training.

Her magic didn’t work like that at all. Hers felt more mental, like seeing things nobody else could and she didn’t need to think hard about it. She could just turn a lock without high levels of concentration, like she was merely a key herself.

Gray quickly formed the other missing pieces and quietly, they began to play as Natsu continued his reign of terror around the room. Lucy quickly discovered that Gray was fairly adept at the game, thinking about each move carefully and smiling when he did something clever.

Lucy couldn’t help but be distracted by Natsu and Lisanna, the former of whom looked like he was enjoying himself a lot and she felt something different about it. She wasn’t sure what exactly, just something she didn’t recognise. Something akin to a worry, but it wasn’t about anyone’s safety.

“Your move,” Gray said, moving his knight piece, snapping her attention back.

Lucy pondered her next move carefully and only decided to move her next chess piece once she had come up with a strategy which relied on guessing what move Gray would make next.

She soon moved her bishop and Gray moved his almost immediately afterwards, having most likely also decided on a strategy. But he was now currently playing into hers and it had her smiling uncontrollably as she knew exactly what to do next.

That was until she found Natsu by their chess table, crouching down to look at the pieces and eyeing Gray suspiciously.

Lisanna turned back into herself near the chair she had originally been sitting in and fell back into it, as if being a cat was a tiring ordeal to maintain.

“What’s so interesting about chess?” Natsu asked, bouncing on his toes as he peered at the board. “Looks boring compared to what we could be doing.”

Gray glanced up from contemplating his next move. “It’s strategy. You have to think ahead.”

“Yeah, well, I bet I could beat you at something way cooler,” Natsu declared with his typical grin, poking at one of Gray’s ice pieces. “Like a magic contest! I bet my fire could melt all these fancy sculptures in seconds!”

“Like your crappy fire could do anything against my ice, flame-brain,” Gray said with a smirk, not looking particularly bothered. “Besides, you’d probably set the whole room on fire.”

Lucy couldn’t help but notice how Natsu’s energy seemed more restless than usual, like he was deliberately trying to pull attention away from their quiet game.

“Wanna test that theory?” Natsu asked cheerfully, small flames already dancing in his palms, scales gracing the top of his hands. “Come on, Gray! Just a little magic duel! I’ll go easy on you!”

“Natsu,” Lisanna said with fond exasperation, recognising the signs immediately. She rose from her chair with a knowing smile. “You’re being ridiculous. We just got here.”

But Natsu was already backing away from the chess table, flames growing brighter as his enthusiasm built. “It’ll be fun! Lucy, don’t you wanna see whose magic is cooler?”

Gray stood up, frost beginning to form around his fingertips more out of habit than aggression. “I mean, I guess I could show you how wrong you are about ice magic…”

“Natsu!” Lucy said firmly, though there was more amusement than anger in her voice. She could see this was just typical Natsu energy, not any real hostility. “You can’t start a magic fight in here!”

Natsu paused, flames still flickering but his expression suddenly uncertain. “Why not? It’ll be quick!”

Lisanna walked over to him with a little smile. “You’re being silly, Natsu. You always do this stuff when you get excited.” She patted his arm. “Just slow down, okay?”

Lucy looked between them, realising she needed to step in before Natsu’s enthusiasm got them all in trouble. She could already imagine the chaos that would ensue.

“Natsu, if you start throwing fire around in here,” she said, trying to sound reasonable rather than bossy, “someone’s going to hear us. The guards will come running, they’ll find our secret room, and we’ll never be allowed back.”

Natsu’s flames flickered as he considered this. “But it would just be a little fire...”

“A little fire that could burn down half the castle,” Gray pointed out with a grin. “You’re not exactly known for your control.”

“Hey!” Natsu protested, but he was grinning too now.

Lucy pressed on, seeing her opening. “And if my father finds out I’ve been sneaking off to play with magic instead of attending the banquet properly, he’ll probably lock me in my chambers for a week. Then what good would our secret room be?”

Natsu’s flames died down considerably. “Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

“You never think about consequences,” Lisanna said fondly, finally reaching him and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “That’s why you need us to keep you out of trouble.”

“I don’t get in that much trouble,” Natsu muttered.

“Remember last month when you accidentally set fire to your father’s favourite tapestry – the one with the dragons on it?” Gray asked dryly.

“That was an accident!”

“Or that time you started a fire in my family’s herb garden?” Lisanna added. “My sister wasn’t very happy with you after that…”

“Okay, okay!” Natsu laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Maybe I get in a little trouble sometimes.”

Lucy felt relieved as the playful atmosphere returned. “So no magic duels in our secret room?”

“Fine,” Natsu agreed with exaggerated disappointment. “But only because I don’t want you to get locked up. That would be boring.”

“How considerate of you,” Gray said sarcastically, but he was smiling as he sat back down at the chessboard.

“Can we explore the rest of the room now?” Lisanna asked hopefully. “Without burning anything down?”

Lucy nodded. “That’s a much better idea.” She stood up and patted down her dress, out of habit more than anything else.

The solar didn’t have much more to be explored. They pulled the sheets from the rest of the furniture, revealing more chairs, an old harp (of which took some convincing of the others not to play) and a few bookshelves, long devoid of any books. An ornate fireplace was featured on a wall on one side of the room; a small pile of ash lay in its hearth, undisturbed for years most likely.

“Perhaps we could bring some of our own things?” Lisanna suggested, looking at the bare walls that probably had tapestries hanging on them a long time ago.

“Like what?” Gray asked as he reset the chessboard.

“I can bring some cushions,” Lucy quickly offered. “And maybe some more candles for light… and sneak a few of my books away.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lisanna replied, smiling. “It would make it more cosy in here too, as all of these parties are hosted at night.”

“Sorry,” Lucy replied guiltily. “It’s because of our bloodline – we have to do these things when the stars are out.”

“It’s okay,” Gray interjected. “But I was thinking, maybe we can bring in some other games to play that we could all join in on.” He made an effort to look at Natsu, who had taken a seat at the table and was flicking fire gently in his palm. Nothing more than a small candle flame, Lucy observed.

“That could be fun,” Lisanna agreed. “My brother has a game called ‘Find the Demon’ that I could bring next time.”

“Natsu, any ideas?” Lucy asked, taking a seat beside him and noticing his scales were still visible on the back of his hand. Natsu was quiet for a moment, thinking.

“I could bring some of those old maps from my dad’s study,” Natsu said suddenly, his flame growing a bit brighter with excitement. “The ones that show all the places where dragons used to live! We could plan out real adventures for when we’re older.” He looked at Lucy hopefully. “You know, for that promise we made.”

“Promise?” Gray asked, looking between them curiously. “What promise?”

Lisanna tilted her head with interest. “And what kind of adventures?”

Lucy felt her cheeks warm slightly. “We... well, we talked about maybe exploring the world someday. When we’re older and I’ve finished all my princess duties and can make decisions for myself.” Lucy hoped that would surely be the case.

“Real exploring,” Natsu added eagerly, the scales on his hand shimmering with his enthusiasm. “Not just pretend games in the castle. Going to places where there might be treasure or people who need some magic help from us.”

“That sounds amazing,” Lisanna said, bouncing a little in her seat. “I wanna see everything too!”

Gray nodded eagerly. “My dad says my ice magic would be way stronger up north where it’s really cold. Maybe I could make huge ice castles and stuff!” His eyes lit up with excitement. “We could have our own ice fortress!”

“See?” Natsu grinned, looking pleased that his idea was being well-received. “We could study them and pick out the best places to visit first. Maybe even find some that aren’t on the normal merchant paths.”

“And I could scout ahead as different animals,” Lisanna added, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “I could be a bird and fly over mountains, or a wolf and run through forests!”

Lucy felt her heart racing with the same excitement she’d felt when she first made the promise with Natsu. But now it wasn’t just the two of them; it was all of them, together.

“So we’re really going to do this?” she asked, looking around at each of their faces. “Plan real adventures?”

“Absolutely,” Natsu said firmly, extinguishing his flame and holding out his hand, palm down. “All of us together.”

Without hesitation, Gray placed his hand on top of Natsu’s. “Count me in.”

Lisanna giggled and added her hand to the pile. “This is going to be the best thing ever!”

Lucy smiled wider than she had in years and placed her hand on top of theirs. “Then it’s settled. We’re going to see the whole world someday.”

“The whole world,” they echoed together, and Lucy knew that this moment, this promise, would stay with her forever.

Lucy returned to her lessons with Aquarius the following day, still giddy from the evening before and elated that she now had a secret. She’d never had one before and it was all hers. She had made it clear to her father the moment he was no longer busy that she loved all the extra attention from other children whilst avoiding the topic of what they were actually doing, demonstrating her keenness to see them again. Despite the fact that he was looking more strained than normal, she thought he understood the message.

Taking her seat at the desk as Aquarius wrote on the board about etiquette, she felt herself being distracted by her thoughts and the possibilities of all the adventures she could go on.

“Are you even listening to me, Lucy?” Aquarius suddenly snapped, cutting through her daydream.

“Yes!” Lucy lied quickly with a squeak in her voice.

“Then what was I just explaining?”

“Uh,” Lucy stuttered. She scanned the board, finding the topics on how to behave around different people boring and no longer needed with her newfound plans for when she was older.

“As I thought. You seem rather distracted today. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Lucy fiddled with her thumbs, avoiding eye contact. “Nothing, I’m just excited to have friends is all…”

“Well, that’s nice for you, but in my lessons, you pay attention. You never know when something might be useful later.”

The statement struck Lucy as odd. “Isn’t all of this supposed to be useful?”

“… Yes,” Aquarius answered, although softer with less certainty in her voice. “So pay attention.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Aquarius went to continue writing on the board, now filled with lists and rules that were expected from someone of noble heritage, but as she raised her chalk, she paused as if a thought occurred to her.

“… Lucy. Before we continue, let me ask you if you understand yet why I asked you to draw the Celestial King not too long ago?”

Lucy cocked her head, not expecting the question. Her gaze went to her two inky drawings that hung from the wall at her two different versions and she considered her answer once more.

It hadn’t occupied her thoughts ever since she found out about Gray and Lisanna coming to the banquet, except for just the once, late last night, just as she was starting to fall asleep – the answer suddenly obvious.

She strained for a moment, trying to recall what her tired brain was thinking about exactly. Truthfully, she didn’t know why but she had a theory.

“I think,” Lucy began, gathering her thoughts as Aquarius waited curiously. “I think that the task was supposed to show me that there’s two stories. The one that everyone believes because it’s told everywhere…”

Lucy couldn’t gauge Aquarius’ reaction, her face remaining just as composed and stern as it often was.

“… So when you asked me what I thought the King was supposed to look like – I did what came to mind when I first heard the stories without seeing all the pictures other people did.”

Lucy waited as Aquarius seemed to be quietly judging her. Lucy felt small in her observations and found herself huddling her arms together, unsure of how she would react.

After a tense moment, Aquarius’ shoulders visibly relaxed and the woman seemed to smile.

“Good. You’re starting to think, finally.”

Lucy wasn’t sure what she meant by that and Aquarius didn’t explain any further. She turned as if to continue the lesson as planned, but once again stopped in her tracks.

“Let’s take a different lesson today,” she announced with a softness that wasn’t there before, putting the chalk down. “Let’s visit the library.”

Lucy couldn’t say no to that. Perhaps it was a reward for her answer or perhaps her tutor had grown bored of the subject matter. Lucy got up immediately, abandoning her work on the desk (not that she had written much anyway) and hurried to the door with a smile on her face.

Aquarius approached her, beckoning her out while placing her hand on her back gently and Lucy couldn’t help but feel it reminded her of something that she had long forgotten.

As they walked through the corridors toward the library, Lucy found herself stealing glances at her tutor. There was something different about Aquarius today—the rigid line of her shoulders had softened, and her usual brisk pace had slowed to match Lucy’s shorter steps.

“Miss Aquarius?” Lucy ventured as they approached the heavy library doors. “Why did you really give me that drawing assignment?”

Aquarius paused, her hand resting on the ornate door handle. For a moment, Lucy thought she might revert to her usual sharp dismissal of questions. Instead, Aquarius knelt down, bringing herself to Lucy’s eye level; something she had never done before.

“Because, Lucy,” she said quietly, her blue eyes gentler than Lucy had ever seen them to date, “I wanted you to learn that just because everyone believes something doesn’t make it the only truth. The world is full of different perspectives, different stories.” She reached out and tucked a strand of Lucy’s blonde hair behind her ear, the gesture so tender and familiar that Lucy’s breath caught. “And a good queen; a wise queen – needs to see all the stories, not just the ones she’s been told.”

Lucy felt something warm bloom in her chest, something she hadn’t felt since her mother’s passing. It was the feeling of being truly seen, truly cared for, not just as a princess to be moulded but as a person worth nurturing.

“Will you teach me to see them?” Lucy asked softly. “All the different stories?”

Aquarius smiled – a real smile that transformed her entire face. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” She stood and opened the library door, but before Lucy could step through, Aquarius placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “And Lucy? I’m proud of you for thinking for yourself today. I think your mother would have been proud too.”

The mention of her mother stood out to Lucy suddenly, like Aquarius had known her. She thought about asking her there and then, but the library beckoned and she didn’t want to spoil whatever Aquarius had planned.

As they entered the library together, Lucy felt something shift in her world once again. Between Natsu showing her friendship and adventure, and now Aquarius offering her something that felt remarkably like motherly guidance, Lucy realised that perhaps growing up didn’t have to mean losing herself after all.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three
Lords and Ladies

Lucy was nine years old when it was shortly after the winter festival, when the city, which had adopted the ancient Stellarian tradition that celebrated the brightness of the polar star and the longer nights to observe the stars under the veil of winter that she started noticing… a difference in the palace.

The lords who had once been frequent visitors, attending all the meetings her father hosted, were seen less and less. Her lessons had taught her that these men held important roles in their hierarchy. The lords brought wealth and capital to the realm; they owned the businesses, agriculture, and industries scattered throughout Fiore. It was the lords who helped run the country alongside the King, whose absolute rule remained final in all decision-making.

It wasn’t uncommon for lords to come and go – to lose their status and wealth to poor decision making, poor planning or perhaps just a typical scandal like a lord deciding to kiss someone that wasn’t his wife, that kind of thing.

But the change that Lucy saw was noticeable. Her father, ever more distracted than ever, had inadvertently given her more freedom than ever within the palace. With Natsu by her side whenever he visited with his father, they explored more and more, discovered long forgotten passages in the depths of the castle that, most of the time, were blocked in one way or another.

She didn’t think her father minded really, what with royal guards positioned at every entrance to the palace and no tunnels thus far led out of the castle. She was still on palace grounds, away from the people who might harm her, according to her father anyway.

But the fact that he was more absent than he had ever been and that the lords were changing and that Natsu’s father seemed to be visiting more often was bothering her, and so she just had to ask.

“Miss Aquarius,” Lucy said shyly one day during a typical lesson about algebra and geometry. “Why are the grown-ups being so strange?”

Aquarius turned to her, clearly irritated by the interruption. “People are always strange,” she said. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because I can ask you anything,” Lucy replied sincerely.

Aquarius’s scowl softened slightly. “Is that so? I suppose that is my role here, after all.”

Lucy nodded eagerly. “So do you know?”

Aquarius considered her response carefully. “Which adults are you asking about?”

“The lords.”

Aquarius let out a weary sigh. “As far as I understand, there have been some... disagreements about how to handle a crisis in a neighbouring kingdom. But it’s not something I care to concern myself with.”

“So it’s just an argument that everyone is upset about?”

“Something like that.”

The answer was simple enough for Lucy to accept. It made sense that grown-ups argued just like she did sometimes, even her and Natsu when they couldn’t agree on what game to play next.

The weeks passed, and Lucy was grateful to see more of Gray and Lisanna. Their fathers still attended the formal parties.

Snow fell heavily outside as they dressed warmly for the parts of the castle without fireplaces, though that was rarely an issue. Abandoning the winter ball, where adults danced and drank (the atmosphere in the hall seemed more charged than usual this year), they retreated to their solar.

Months of effort had transformed the space into something truly theirs. Lucy had stealthily brought soft cushions from a rarely-used room, arranging them in the corner alongside a canopy she’d asked Spetto to make without explaining why. She’d gathered candles from unused candelabras, and Natsu happily lit them once she’d placed them around the room. They avoided lighting the fireplace despite Natsu’s insistence—they didn’t need people questioning where the extra warmth came from.

Lisanna’s family was well-known for their generosity with food. Every event invitation meant at least one overstuffed gift basket, and Lisanna always managed to smuggle out buns and pastries when no one was looking. These treats sustained them during their adventure planning sessions, with Natsu’s maps and schemes pinned to the wall beside the table.

Today, with winter weather being as cold as it was, they turned their thoughts to travelling south-east to the arid plains of Bosco, where they’d heard rumours of bazaars filled with exotic foods and drinks made from foreign fruits.”So what do you think?” Natsu asked proudly as they munched on rich cardamom buns.

“I think it needs work,” Gray replied bluntly. “Your plan is to travel down the gold road, then turn off near a waterfall that might not even exist so we can all go swimming.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

“What about the alligators?” Lisanna asked.

“The what?”

“I read about them in a book once—these long lizard creatures with lots of sharp teeth that live in water. They might have eight legs?”

Natsu stared at her, baffled for a moment before his face lit up with fascination. “That sounds amazing! We should include that too! Alligator riding!”

“But... lots of sharp teeth?” Lucy inquired, finishing her bun. “It sounds like they would eat us.”

“No way,” Natsu scoffed, stubborn in his vision. “I bet everyone rides them.”

He grabbed one of the many oil pastels scattered across the table and began drawing what he imagined an ‘alligator’ might look like. Gray couldn’t help but laugh at Natsu’s attempt at the head—it resembled a snake more than a large lizard. The drawing became incredibly goofy-looking very quickly.

Then came the shouting.

Lucy’s hands clenched awkwardly as she recognised her father’s voice echoing from far below, probably still in the great hall. His voice always carried when he raised it.

A second voice shouted back—thankfully not belonging to any of her friends’ fathers. She was certain it was Lord Byron, a short man whose affairs involved wizardry and magical regulations within the kingdom.

The four children fell silent as muffled shouting echoed up the stairs. Lucy couldn’t help but feel ashamed. She’d been taught that maintaining composure was everything, yet there was her father, losing his temper during their yearly ball.

“What do you think is going on?” Gray asked first.

“Just grown-ups fighting,” Natsu shrugged, returning to his drawing.

“But it’s the King,” Lisanna pointed out.

“I’m sorry about this,” Lucy said quickly. “My father has been angrier lately.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Natsu replied, setting down his pastels.

“He’s my family and the King, so...”

“Everyone gets angry sometimes.”

Gray snorted. “Yeah, especially you, fire-scales.”

“Do not!”

The boys began bickering as Lisanna looked at Lucy sympathetically.

The shouting grew louder, and this time Lucy could make out some words floating up through the stone floors, though she couldn’t understand what they meant together.

“We should go,” Gray said quietly, glancing towards the door.

But Natsu was already on his feet, bouncing with energy. “Or we could see what’s happening!”

“Natsu,” Lucy protested, though deep down, she wanted to know too. The shouting was twisting her stomach into knots, and there had to be a reason for it.

“Come on,” he said, cracking the solar’s door to listen better. “Sounds like they’re not even in the hall any more—probably that room they go to after dinner. I bet we can hear better if we use that passage we found.”

“What passage?” Gray asked.

“The one Lucy and I discovered that goes behind the wall in that room.”

Lisanna looked between them nervously. “What if someone finds us?”

“They won’t,” Natsu assured her. “Besides, Lucy lives here, so she can go anywhere she wants, right?”

Lucy wasn’t sure that was how it worked, but the frightening feeling in her stomach outweighed her fear of punishment. “Just... just to listen for a little bit,” she said finally.

They extinguished most of the candles, leaving only one small flame that Lisanna carefully carried as they crept down the corridor. The argument grew clearer as they descended, and Lucy’s heart sank as she recognised more voices joining the dispute. The halls were strangely quiet—even the servants had scattered.

The forgotten passage was exactly where they remembered it, hidden behind a faded tapestry depicting some long-dead ancestor. Natsu pulled it aside and they slipped into the narrow space beyond, moving carefully in the flickering candlelight.

The passage was cramped and dusty, clearly unused for years, but it led downward as promised. They followed it single file, with Natsu leading and Lucy bringing up the rear, until they reached a section where voices became crystal clear through what must have been a thin wall.

“—cannot continue to drain our resources!” That was definitely Lord Byron’s voice, sharp and demanding. “These people fled their own kingdom’s problems. Why should that become our burden?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” came another voice—Natsu straightened, recognising his father immediately. “These are families, Byron. Children. They’re not asking for charity, they’re asking for a chance to work, to contribute.”

“Then let them earn it properly,” Byron shot back. “A period of service to prove their worth. Seven years of contracted labour to the lords who sponsor them. It’s more generous than sending them back to whatever chaos they fled from.”

Lucy felt her stomach turn. Seven years? That sounded like…

“You’re talking about slavery,” her father’s voice cut through, tight with barely controlled anger. “I will not have that in my kingdom.”

“And I will not have my lands overrun with beggars!” Byron retorted. “Your Majesty, with respect, your idealism is clouding your judgment. We need practical solutions.”

“Lord Igneel is right,” another voice added. Lucy quickly recognised it as Lord Fullbuster, Gray’s father. “These refugees have skills, they have trades. Give them land, let them establish themselves properly. They’ll contribute more as free citizens than as indentured servants.”

“Easy words from those whose lands aren’t on the border,” Byron sneered. “Lord Dragneel’s territory sees the benefits without the burden. And you, Fullbuster, your ice hauling operations could use the cheap labour. Don’t pretend this is about morality.”

The children exchanged glances in the darkness. Lucy could see Natsu’s jaw clenched tight, while Gray looked stricken at hearing his father’s name brought into the argument.

“Enough!” King Jude’s voice boomed. “I’ve heard all your proposals, and I’ve made my decision. We will not be returning desperate people to whatever drove them from their homes, nor will we be enslaving them. We will find a third path.”

“And if the lords withdraw their support for this... third path?” Byron’s voice was dangerously quiet.

The silence that followed was heavy and loaded with implication.

“Why are they all so mad?” Lisanna asked quietly.

Natsu shrugged. “Grown-ups fight about weird stuff.”

“I think,” Lucy whispered, “there are people who need help, and the grown-ups can’t agree on what to do.”

“Like when we couldn’t agree on what game to play?” Natsu asked.

“Maybe,” Lucy said, but somehow she knew it was bigger and more important than that. She just didn’t understand how.

Lisanna tugged on Lucy’s dress. “Can we go back now? This is scary.”

Lucy nodded, suddenly longing for their warm room with its soft pillows and Natsu’s silly drawings, far away from all the angry voices and words she couldn’t fully comprehend.

In the weeks following the winter ball, Lucy discovered that Fiore was a complicated kingdom. Perhaps the shouting had been loud enough for the entire palace to hear, because Aquarius soon introduced new lessons.

Kingdom Management.

Apparently, this was a topic she was meant to study when older, but Aquarius had tailored a crash course for a child—just for her.

The first thing Lucy learned was that her ancestry traced back to the ancient kingdom of Stella, as did her family’s. This was well-known throughout the kingdom, and her magical ability to open locks was proof of that heritage, however unimpressive it might seem.

However, Fiore differed greatly from Stella. Stella had been an island, now merely a collection of overgrown ruins and failed mining ventures that couldn’t establish footholds due to the overwhelming wildlife—creatures that could fell a man with one swipe of their paw, or birds so enormous they could swallow a person whole. It sounded nightmarish. But long ago, it had been a nation governed by stellar guidance.

Fiore existed on the mainland and had weathered many wars under the rule of numerous families throughout its centuries of existence. The palace she called home evidenced the extensive fortifications each family had built to ensure their lineage’s survival. Most had failed, which naturally left Lucy anxious about her future.

However, her family had risen to power four generations ago, and the kingdom had known peace ever since. The Heartfilias were gentle rulers who governed with wisdom and foresight, as expected from those of her bloodline.

But as Aquarius explained, the lords controlled the territories within the kingdom and, with them, the monarchy itself.

With her secret adventure plans in mind, Lucy asked hopefully, “Does this mean I can pursue other interests when I’m queen, and the lords can simply manage things?”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. The lords disagreed constantly, and historically, kings would typically side with whoever contributed the most wealth and riches to their family and the capital.

Thus began the most tedious of lessons—diplomatic management of the lords.

Lucy then asked what she thought was an obvious question with an obvious answer: “Why only lords? Why don’t ladies run things too?”

She didn’t appreciate the response she was given: “Fiore has always trusted men to maintain order. Women have other roles to fulfil.”

Lucy, at the time, didn’t think this applied to her as she was supposed to become queen one day.

Once the lesson was over, Lucy was more than keen to get out of there and rush to the dining hall for her lunch; not to eat but to meet Natsu who was once again visiting with his father.

He grinned as he always did when he saw her, crumbs still around his mouth from the lunch that was offered to him.

Lucy giggled at his obliviousness to it and wiped them away for him.

“So what do you wanna play today, Lucy?” Natsu asked cheerfully, already leading her out into the hallway.

Lucy looked around the hallway, making sure no grown-ups were nearby, then grabbed Natsu’s hand and pulled him toward their favourite alcove near the library.

“I want to play a new game,” she announced, settling cross-legged on the thick carpet.

“What kind of game?” Natsu asked, plopping down across from her with his usual enthusiasm.

“Kingdom,” Lucy said seriously. “You can be a lord and I’ll be... I’ll be a lady lord.”

Natsu tilted his head. “Lady lord? That’s a weird name.”

“Well, what do you call a girl who does the same job as a lord?”

“Uh...” Natsu scratched his head. “I dunno. A girl lord?”

Lucy frowned. “That doesn’t sound right either. Anyway, you’re Lord Natsu and you have to bring me your problems so I can help solve them.”

“Okay!” Natsu straightened up, trying to look serious. “Lord Lucy, I have a big problem!”

“What is it, Lord Natsu?”

“Um...” Natsu looked around desperately for inspiration. “The... the dragons in my territory are eating all the sheep!”

Lucy leaned forward, excited to solve this imaginary crisis. “Well, have you tried giving the dragons something else to eat? Maybe they’re just hungry.”

“But what if they eat the people instead?”

“Then we’ll make a deal with them. Dragons are smart, right? We can trade them something they want more than sheep.”

Natsu’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, like treasure! Dragons love treasure!”

“Exactly!” Lucy clapped her hands together. “See? I’m good at this lord stuff.”

“Yeah, you are!” Natsu agreed. “Your turn to have a problem.”

Lucy thought for a moment. “Okay, Lord Natsu, the people in my lands want to build a new bridge, but some of them think it should go one way and others think it should go another way.”

Natsu considered this gravely. “Easy! Build two bridges!”

“But that costs twice as much money.”

“Then... um... make them play rock-paper-scissors for it?”

Lucy giggled despite herself. “That’s not very diplomatic.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means being smart about talking to people so everyone’s happy,” Lucy explained. “Like when you want to play tag but I want to play hide-and-seek, so we play hiding tag instead.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense.” Natsu grinned. “You’re pretty smart, Lucy. You’d be a great lord.”

Lucy’s smile faded a little. “But Aquarius says ladies don’t get to be lords. Only men do.”

“That’s dumb,” Natsu said immediately. “You could totally be a lord if you weren’t gonna be a queen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I would just tell the dragon to stop eating sheep and hope it listened. I’d fight it if it didn’t. Your idea was way better if you wanted to be that diplo-word you said… fighting it would have been more fun though.”

Sitting still wasn’t in Natsu’s nature, and soon he was bouncing on his heels, surveying the alcove with restless energy. “Hey, we should explore again! Maybe we can find another secret passage—one that actually leads somewhere interesting this time, not just another boring room.”

“What if we get in trouble?” Lucy asked, though she was already standing, caught up in his enthusiasm.

“We won’t! Besides, you said it yourself—you’re going to be queen someday, so you should know every part of your castle, right?” Natsu’s logic was flawed, but his excitement was infectious.

They ventured into the corridors, heading toward an older section of the castle where everything appeared less pristine than the main palace interior. Natsu had his sights set on what had once been an old guard’s break room. Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely certain of its location, and they found themselves wandering aimlessly.

Lucy eventually discovered an old stone brick wall at a dead end where the corridor abruptly terminated. It seemed illogical for the corridor to end there, and she assumed there had probably once been a door in one of the walls leading to a room that had been modified over time.

However, something about the stone brick wall at the terminus had always struck Lucy as odd. Perhaps it was simply the fact that it didn’t match the surrounding walls—more coarse and uneven, with brickwork protruding awkwardly in places as if constructed by entirely different hands.

“Natsu, wait!” Lucy called out, causing Natsu to skid across the carpeted floor. He looked back to see why she’d stopped him. “I think we should examine this wall.”

“Why?” Natsu asked, approaching it and running his finger along the brickwork.

“It doesn’t belong here,” Lucy said, her hands exploring the masonry. She couldn’t tell if this was another manifestation of her magic - seeking out locks or simply curious instinct. “The whole thing stands out.”

She watched as Natsu studied it, running his hands along the brickwork curiously to confirm her observation. She mimicked his actions, hoping for something secret like a lever or button or—

Click.

Natsu pressed against one of the smaller bricks and it receded inward with that sound, causing the entire wall to swing inward with surprising quietness.

“Whoa!” Natsu exclaimed, peering inside. “Another tunnel!”

Lucy looked in, noting the dampness absent from other tunnels, along with cobwebs and grime. “There’s no way I’m going in there!”

“Aww, come on!” Natsu whined, taking a step inside. “I think I feel a draft!”

“My clothes will get filthy and I won’t be allowed to play unsupervised any more!” Lucy insisted. Honestly, the tunnel’s foreboding and unusually dark appearance deterred her more than potential punishment, but she didn’t want Natsu to think she was scared.

Natsu looked back and forth between venturing forward and returning to the corridor, as if it were a genuinely difficult decision.

“Fine,” he said eventually, returning to the palace corridor and finding the mechanism to seal the tunnel again. “I guess it can wait for another time when you won’t get in trouble.”

Lucy smiled. “Thank you.” Her voice carried more regal authority than she’d intended.

“No problem, Princess,” Natsu replied teasingly.

“Stop saying it like that,” Lucy said as they turned around. “I’m just Lucy, remember?”

Natsu laughed softly. “Yeah, I know.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon crawling through passages that weren’t damp and dingy, poking behind tapestries in search of more secrets. They discovered nothing more exciting than a forgotten storage room filled with old furniture. By the time Natsu had to leave with his father, Lucy’s dress was dusty and her hair had escaped its careful braids—but that was acceptable compared to staining her clothes.

Despite her afternoon of adventures around the palace with Natsu, Lucy kept thinking about what Aquarius had said as Spetto helped her prepare for bed late that evening. The lesson about politics had left her with more questions than answers, and it bothered her greatly that she couldn’t find Aquarius again in the castle to ask her more once Natsu had to go home. The tutor had a habit of disappearing when lessons were over, as if she simply vanished into the walls of the palace.

As Spetto helped her into her soft cotton nightgown – the plain one she preferred for sleeping, not the fancy silk one that was too slippery – Lucy climbed into her ornately decorated bed with its heavy silk covers and plump feather pillows. The bed was almost too big for her, a grand thing that had belonged to royal children for generations, but she loved how it made her feel small and safe when she burrowed under the covers.

Instead of settling in right away, Lucy sat cross-legged on top of the coverlet and looked Spetto straight in the eye with the serious expression she got when something was really bothering her.

“Would you like a story this evening, Princess?” Spetto asked, already reaching for one of the many leather-bound storybooks that lined the shelf beside Lucy’s bed.

Lucy shook her head. “Actually, I was hoping you could tell me something instead.”

“Of course, dear. What’s troubling you?” Spetto settled into the comfortable chair beside the bed, the one she’d occupied for countless bedtime conversations over the years.

“If lords are supposed to run the kingdom with the king, what do the ladies do?”

“Whatever do you mean, sweetheart?” Spetto asked gently, her eyebrows raised in genuine confusion at Lucy’s odd question.

“Well, they have to have an important role too, don’t they? Like, I have to be a princess, so I have to learn all about being queen so I can solve people’s problems and make good decisions.” Lucy’s voice grew more animated as she explained. “But if the lords already do all that with the king, what’s left for the ladies to do?”

Spetto nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her kind eyes. “Oh, I see what you’re wondering about. Well, I have a role, and that’s to take care of you. To make sure you’re healthy and happy and learning what you need to know.”

“But what about the ladies that are married to lords? The ones who live in big houses and have servants?” Lucy pressed. “What do they do all day?”

Spetto looked thoughtful, as if she’d never really considered the question before. “Well, the ladies don’t own the land themselves, you understand. That belongs to their husbands. But they have important work managing their households – making sure all the servants know their duties, planning meals and parties, keeping track of the family’s money and making sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Is that all?” Lucy asked, thinking that didn’t sound like nearly as much work as running a whole kingdom. “That doesn’t seem like it would take all day.”

Spetto shifted in her chair, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Well, they are also expected to raise their children, of course. That’s considered their most important duty – making sure the next generation of lords and ladies know how to behave properly.”

“Oh, I see,” Lucy replied, though she didn’t really understand fully what that meant. She knew babies needed a lot of care, but surely once children were old enough to have tutors like her, their mothers could do other things too?

“And of course,” Spetto added carefully, “they’re expected to support their husbands in whatever way they can. To be gracious hostesses when important guests visit, to represent their families well at social events, things like that.”

Lucy frowned, a new worry forming in her mind. “But what if a lady has really good ideas about how to solve problems? What if she’s smart about politics and kingdom stuff?”

Spetto was quiet for a long moment, and Lucy could see her choosing her words carefully. “I think, tomorrow, if you are still wondering about all this, you should ask Miss Aquarius. She knows much more about these things than I do.”

Lucy nodded, accepting the seemingly rational response, though something in Spetto’s tone made her think there was more to the story that wasn’t being said. “Spetto? Do you think things will be different when I’m queen?”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“Well, I’ll be the one in charge then, right? So maybe I can make new rules about what ladies can do.”

Spetto smiled, but there was something sad in her eyes. “Perhaps you can, Princess. You have a kind heart and a clever mind. Maybe you’ll find ways to make things better for everyone.”

“I hope so,” Lucy replied with a yawn. “Can I ask something else?”

“Just one more thing, but then you really have to try and sleep.”

Lucy agreed to it. There had been one more question that had been bothering her ever since she played ‘Kingdom’ with Natsu.

“How did the dragons go extinct if they are really strong?” She wasn’t even sure why it played on her mind. It was like an anomaly that didn’t make sense and she was surprised no one had taught that history yet.

“Oh, well,” Spetto began, hesitating for a moment but Lucy wasn’t sure why either. “The legends go that the dragons fought amongst themselves and it ended their reign of terror in the land.”

“They had a war?” Lucy asked, confused by the notion that they would do such a thing.

Spetto nodded. “I believe so, or that’s what the old stories say.”

The answer didn’t satiate Lucy’s curiosity, but it did kind of make sense. She didn’t know how it connected to Natsu’s bloodline or what the dragons were fighting about, but perhaps it was something she would learn eventually.

As Spetto tucked the covers around her and blew out the bedside candle, Lucy lay in the darkness thinking about lords and ladies and dragons that needed diplomatic solutions instead of sword and magic fights. Tomorrow, she decided, she would definitely find Aquarius and ask her all the questions that were buzzing around in her head like persistent bees.

Outside her window, snow continued to fall on the sleeping kingdom, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear the very faint sound of her father’s loud, angry voice from his study, still deep in conversation with advisors about problems she was only beginning to understand.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four
The Dragon Doors

After another two summers and a winter had passed, or as Lucy sometimes said, eighteen moons had passed, Natsu was probably the happiest he’d ever been.

Being at home on his family’s manor house in the city of Crocus, which surrounded the royal castle, more or less a fortress with a palace placed on top, tended to get boring after a while.

He was not a typical lord’s son and his dad knew that. He needed to roam. He needed a home to return to, a place to rest and bring back all the memories of the day he had collected with him, but he needed to be out and about to do that.

Whilst his father wore his scales proudly most of the time, choosing loose-fitting clothes when formality was not required, Natsu felt more apprehensive about it. So when Natsu went out in the town to roam the streets or entertain himself in a nearby park, he made sure to cover up his arms and neck where the scales would be more visible when he became excited or used his magic. The people around didn’t say anything about his dad’s appearance, but to a kid like him, he was an exception when he was alone.

When he met Gray for the first time, they didn’t become immediate friends and Gray was the first to mock his scales when they got into a scuffle openly. But that was Gray and Gray’s opinion didn’t matter much to him.

Then he was introduced to Lisanna and her older siblings. Lisanna was not like Gray in the slightest. She was friendly and kind. And when she first saw his magic, she didn’t react like Gray did. But he did see her flinch for a moment, like his fire scared her.

She could change into small animals so he didn’t think she would be bothered by the dragon scales on his body. But he couldn’t help but notice the worry on her face or the fact that she looked at him like he was a failed transformation, like he couldn’t change fully into an animal like she could and scales were the best he could do - not that he thought she would appreciate him turning into a dragon if he could, no matter how amazing that sounded.

He often wondered if there were others like him in the world, just as rare and thinking the same things as he did.

His father told him that his bloodline was growing weaker with each generation, that eventually there might not be anyone born with their kind of magic any more. They were the last of the dragon's power, he said.

The thought saddened Natsu somewhat because his magic felt like it was deeply a part of who he was as a person.

So when his father brought him to the palace for his first ever formal event, he wasn’t sure how he would be received or what was expected of him other than to ‘behave himself’.

Turns out that if no one could see his scales, he was just like any other kid in a room full of nobles.

Then he was introduced to Lucy. A princess who clearly had been trained to behave just like the rest of the grown-ups in that room and that was unnatural to him.

So he made it his personal task to make sure she was her own person underneath all that fancy stuff she had to wear.

And then, without thinking, he demonstrated his magic and, by extension, the scales on his skin. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking in that moment, suddenly revealing the scales that people murmured about under their breaths, to the crown princess without considering how she might have reacted.

He was preparing for her to scream once he realised his mistake, like he might have expected of a royal princess groomed to be all ladylike, and then he would be banished from the castle forever and his father wouldn’t have been very happy with him.

It was a stupid thought because his father never really hid his scales, so why would he be punished for showing his was a daft conclusion to come to.

But in that moment, he was worried about what this princess would think more than anything.

And her reaction was not at all what he expected. She actually wanted to touch them like she wasn’t scared of getting burned up or something. No fear at all.

That sealed it for him. The princess was definitely going to be fun to be around. She didn’t even seem like a princess any more. Just Lucy, like she was supposed to be.

And just like that, she was suddenly his friend.

They’d had so many adventures already in her castle and he was absolutely determined to find a single passage from that place that could get her out of there. He didn’t think it could be good for someone to be in that huge castle all the time and she should really see what the city looked like from the ground up.

Even when they found a passage with the potential to be that, she refused to step down it and out of fear of not being able to see her any more, he respected her decision… for now.

His father was preparing for another visit to the palace, having just returned from their lands far out in the countryside. Natsu never visited—apparently he couldn’t be trusted not to roam out there and vicious creatures weren’t hard to find wandering in the wilderness that could attack him, even when he insisted he could look after himself as he had his fire for protection.

“Natsu!” His father called from his study and Natsu dropped what he was doing to see what he wanted.

He found his father in front of a mirror adjusting the cuffs around his wrists, wearing his dress clothes for once and his deep red scales were covered up, which was strange to see.

He turned to Natsu before he even had a chance to respond. “Are you ready to leave soon?”

Natsu nodded. “Yep. I’m all set.”

His dad turned back to the mirror, making final adjustments. “Good. I expect your friends will be there too. Getting along with the princess still?”

“Course’,” Natsu said confidently. He and Lucy only fought sometimes, but they usually made up quickly afterwards. “Why are you covering your scales?” The question had been burning in his mind since entering the room.

“The rest of the Lords are having more important discussions today and covering them might have a better outcome.”

His dad’s words felt like a lie. He didn’t think his dad would lie to him but something about the way he said it told Natsu there was more to it. The fact that he had chosen to cover up his scales felt almost like a betrayal of who he was and Natsu didn’t like it one bit.

“Is it because you are scared of what people might think now?” Natsu bluntly asked, mirroring his own inner conflicted thinking.

His dad chuckled. “No, son, not at all. Sometimes we have to compromise to get better outcomes.”

“Compromise?” Natsu asked, confused.

“That means when you are willing to do something you don’t always agree with, so that the other people will do something that you do agree with.”

Natsu nodded, understanding. It was like that time he agreed not to use fire magic fighting Gray so they didn’t lose their secret room, not that he told his father that.

“… Say, Natsu,” his father said suddenly, taking a seat. “You’re getting old enough to understand some of what’s going on in the palace now, I think.”

Natsu shrugged, not admitting to overhearing that fight he had heard them have back in the winter. He’d heard raised voices since then in and around the palace, but he mostly ignored them in favour of playing. “I guess.”

“So you have probably noticed that Lucy’s father, the king, might be more... upset than usual.”

“We don’t play near her dad,” Natsu replied. But he’d noticed the strain in Lucy. She said she was seeing even less of him and he was always in a bad mood.

“... Natsu, your hearing is pretty good, you’ve probably heard some things around the palace.”

“Maybe some,” Natsu admitted. “But that’s problems for the lords, not for me and my friends.”

“I see,” his father replied, studying him carefully. “I’m not trying to get information from you, I just wondered if you were aware... There’s a lot of arguing happening between all of the lords right now and some of us... feel that the king might be being swayed by some of the lords who don’t have the kingdom’s best interests at heart.”

Natsu nodded, mostly understanding, but also internally questioning why he was being told this.

“So son, listen, there might be a time soon when things change, where things might get a little scary for a while—”

“Scary how?” Natsu asked quickly, not liking where this was going.

“Just in the ways things could change,” Lord Igneel answered vaguely.

“Will it affect my friends?” Natsu then asked, his concern for them and his future plans at the forefront of his worries.

“I shouldn’t think so.”

“Good.”

His father sat back in his chair with a contemplative expression and Natsu decided to start fiddling with the spinning globe on the table nearby, needing the distraction. The change from just playing with Gray and Lisanna was nice; having a whole palace and Lucy to have games with. Other changes, he wasn’t so good with and it bothered him.

“I want to give you something before we leave for the palace,” his dad suddenly said, reaching into a drawer and retrieving a wrapped package in fancy paper. “It’s an old family heirloom and it’s about time you had it.”

Natsu wasted no time in unwrapping it, practically tearing the paper and twine off and revealing a shiny, white scarf. The yarn felt strange in his hands, not really like wool like most scarves were made from, but still soft and he was able to run a finger over it without disturbing the strands of fibres in the slightest.

“A scarf?” he asked, confused, having expected something shinier for an heirloom.

“Yep. It’s made from dragon scales – back when dragons were still alive. Turns out they would moult and their scales would become incredibly soft but still too tough to destroy outright.”

“Huh, that’s kinda neat,” Natsu muttered, feeling the scarf some more before placing it around his neck. It didn’t tickle and irritate like woolly clothes did. “It smells like you.”

His father laughed. “I did wear it a lot when I was younger – before my life was all about trying to get the king to listen to me.” He sounded sad, like that wasn’t something he really wanted.

But still, Natsu knew his dad was not saying what it was exactly the lords were doing in the castle to upset things and he thought that his dad probably didn’t know what they were either, because after all, his dad wouldn’t outright lie to him. He was sure of it.

So he wondered if it had anything to do with his magic. He knew he was getting older and eventually his scales would always be there; a thought that had been on his mind more frequently as of late.

“Dad, I want to ask something.”

“Go ahead,” his father replied casually.

“I know I’ve asked before, but the magic we have... it scares people sometimes, doesn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but you know that already.”

“Yeah, I know, but we’re not dragons… It’s just fire and scales. Why are they scared we have a tiny bit of dragon magic?” Natsu’s question came out fast, desperate as he tried to comprehend the idea. He told himself all the time he didn’t care what people thought but he’d been hearing the comments more and more frequently.

His father leaned back in his chair with a sigh in clear understanding that Natsu was feeling the prejudices more as he grew up.

“People are scared of what they don’t understand,” he replied. “And if someone tells them it’s bad for whatever reason, they will believe it if it’s the easy answer to their problems.”

“Then what’s the hard answer?”

His dad chuckled. “Well, that really depends on a lot of different things, so the hard answer is really just a ‘complicated’ answer.”

“… I don’t get it.”

“Our bloodline does descend from dragons from a long time ago. I can’t tell you from where or how exactly, but what matters is that our family took the magic we had and did good things with it.” His dad sounded proud which made it easier for Natsu to digest.

“But our family also claimed land, fought in wars with our powers and some of our ancestors weren’t always good people. And sometimes, that’s what other people see—they don’t see what good our magic can bring when people want to focus on the bad or when other people tell them to focus on the bad.”

Natsu tried to take it all in, to make sense of it, but it wasn’t the easiest. He was just a child and he never used his magic for anything bad on purpose... aside from a few pranks.

“You know Lucy likes my scales,” Natsu said suddenly, her coming to mind as insecurity racked his brain, like he was looking for something to remind himself that not everyone said mean things about his magic. “She sometimes likes to touch them because they’re warm, especially in the winter.” He was smiling again at the fond memory.

He saw his father grin too, although it was the kind of smirk his dad did when he was about to get teased a little.

“Your mother liked my scales too,” he replied, Natsu not understanding the connection.

“It would be weird if she didn’t because she married you and she saw them all the time,” Natsu quickly replied, like it was the most obvious thing.

His dad laughed again, louder this time.

“Come on son, let’s go get you to your princess,” he said, getting up and pointing for him to leave the room so they could finally get going. “Although one day I’m going to have to have a talk with you about that.” His voice dipped from mild amusement to disappointment, although Natsu didn’t pay it much mind as he was more than happy to move on from the strange conversation.

They decided to explore the lower regions of the castle again that day. It wasn’t as far down as the dungeons, which were right above the catacombs that were apparently long sealed off, but the lower levels had once served many purposes—to trap the monstrous creatures that sometimes got inside the town in centuries past, or simply to store excess supplies for short periods before moving them elsewhere before mould could set in.

Lucy unlocked a different door for them that day, and they found it to be an old wine cellar, long abandoned but surprisingly dry and lacking any grime.

“Huh,” said Gray as he stepped into the room, running his finger down the empty racks. “I suppose they keep all the booze somewhere else now.”

“Near the kitchens, I think,” Lucy quickly added. “I’m not sure exactly—I’m not supposed to go near it. Something about children not mixing with those kinds of drinks.”

“Makes sense,” Lisanna commented, her eyes bright with curiosity as she wasted no time becoming a small white mouse and exploring the empty shelves, looking for anything of interest like secret buttons or levers.

Lucy moved to sit in an old wooden chair that wasn’t comfortable in the slightest. “Shall we play a game or focus on looking for tunnels?”

Both Natsu and Gray answered at once.

“Game—”

“Tunnels—”

They glared at one another with the familiar spark of competition, but Lucy shot them a weary look that carried the weight of her recent frustration. Natsu bit back his retort, guilt pricking at him as Lucy had made a point that they had been bickering far more than usual lately and it was getting tiresome.

He couldn’t help it. Something about Gray was bothering him more than before, an irritation that seemed to grow stronger each time they met.

Natsu then felt a familiar weight land on his shoulder; Lisanna, who had jumped down from the shelf, still in her mouse form. She seemed to nudge his neck gently, a nice gesture that warmed him, like she had forgotten she was supposed to be a mouse and not a cat.

For whatever reason, Lucy’s expression shifted as she watched them, something unreadable flickering across her face.

“Why not play and find tunnels at the same time?” Lucy asked them, her voice carrying a diplomatic tone that suggested she was trying to keep the peace. “We could all be explorers looking for the ancient ruins of Stella, my ancester’s old kingdom!”

“Not bad,” Gray replied quickly, his enthusiasm returning as he seized on the idea. “Can I be the loyal knight – maybe the one that gets to slay dragons?”

Natsu didn’t miss Gray’s pointed expression toward him, a deliberate provocation that made his scales prickle with defensive heat. “A dragon could easily eat a knight like you.”

Lisanna crawled off Natsu’s shoulder, and a flicker of worry crossed his mind; had she felt his scales responding beneath his shirt? Was she pulling away because they frightened her? She transformed back into herself not even seconds later.

“Well, I want to be the princess for once,” Lisanna said keenly, her face lighting up with genuine excitement.

“Then what should I be?” Lucy asked, genuine uncertainty in her voice as she tried to find her place in the group.

“You could be a wizard maybe—” Gray suggested with casual confidence.

“—Or one of those rangers who goes hunting with a bow,” Natsu interjected, determined to offer something better than Gray’s predictable suggestion.

Lucy placed her finger to her mouth as if to ponder their suggestions, though Natsu could see the hint of amusement in her eyes. “A ranger sounds fun,” she said after a few seconds with a warm grin that made Natsu’s chest swell with quiet satisfaction.

“Then let’s go!” Lisanna announced with excited energy, and they took off into the stone corridors.

Natsu found himself relishing the role of a dragon rather than just someone who used magic to fight them. Their game became deeper in roleplay than it had been previously, as they came to understand who they were supposed to be better.

“Gray, save me from the evil dragon!” Lisanna proclaimed dramatically as he chased her down, laughing maniacally with theatrical menace.

“I’ve got you, princess!” Lucy shouted with fierce determination, pretending to aim and fire a bow like a real archer. Natsu feigned being hit in the chest, stumbling back with exaggerated pain. But then Gray came for him, holding up a crude sword made of ice that would probably break in seconds. Natsu seized the opportunity to bring out his fire and pretend to thrash at him, his competitive edge driving him to be perhaps a bit more aggressive than he normally would.

“No! Sir knight!” Lucy cried out with genuine concern threading through her playful tone, aiming her invisible shot again at his chest, right where his heart was. Natsu figured that would definitely kill a dragon, so he feigned the mortal hit and collapsed dramatically on the floor with a theatrical groan.

“You saved us!” Lisanna said with admiration, curtseying in the same way that Lucy often had to.

“Now what?” Lucy asked, and Natsu felt her kneel down beside him with gentle care, as if she were truly checking whether he was really slain.

“Well, how about...” Lisanna suggested, mischief dancing in her eyes as she smiled with yet another idea. “It turns out our loyal knight here was actually a prince from a faraway land!”

“I’m what now?” Gray said, genuine surprise breaking through his confident facade.

“And now you have to marry the princess!” Lucy interjected with delighted scheming in her voice.

Natsu sat up immediately, his curiosity piqued as he wondered how this awkward situation would unfold.

“Go on, Gray,” Lucy gestured with her hands, barely contained laughter bubbling beneath her encouraging tone. “Declare your love for the princess!”

“Nope, no way,” Gray quickly replied, his discomfort so obvious that his ice sword shattered then and there from his loss of concentration.

Lisanna began giggling, clearly unoffended by his rejection. Instead, Natsu noticed with growing awareness, she seemed to drift closer to him, and he could feel her hand brushing slightly against his with what seemed like deliberate gentleness, leaving him puzzled about her intentions.

Lucy’s expression grew knowing as she watched the interaction, but Natsu felt completely lost at how to respond to whatever silent communication was happening around him.

“I’m kind of curious though,” Gray suddenly said, turning to Lucy with what seemed like genuine interest. “If a knight married you, do they become a prince?”

For reasons Natsu couldn’t quite understand, he found himself hanging on Lucy’s answer, though whether it was because Gray was asking or because he genuinely wanted to know, he wasn’t sure.

Lucy shook her head with the certainty of someone who had been thoroughly educated on the subject. “No. I’m not supposed to marry a knight. Father says it has to be a prince or someone high-ranking from another kingdom.”

“So someone important then?” Lisanna confirmed from beside him, her voice carrying a note he couldn’t quite identify but it almost seemed like she was happy to hear what Lucy said.

“That’s what father said. He said he has to pick for me and he will make sure it’s a good match.” There was resignation in Lucy’s voice, the weight of expectation she carried as a princess.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Natsu said impulsively, the words tumbling out before he could think them through. “We’re going to go on our adventures instead, so when you’re queen, you can change that.”

Lucy’s face softened into a genuine smile that seemed to chase away the shadows of duty and obligation. “That’s true! I forgot about that for a moment.”

Satisfied that he’d restored her spirits, he quickly suggested they continue their adventure to find the ‘ancient ruins’, deciding on a new character for himself—a standard fire wizard with no dragon elements this time.

They travelled further into the passages of corridors, even passing a faded sign that requested no one travel down the stairs nearby. There was a strong metal door barring their way which Lucy easily unlocked for them.

Natsu insisted they take a look at what was beyond and before long, they were walking in line down a spiral staircase that led to an unlit corridor that he had to use his flames to illuminate.

“What’s that?” Gray asked as they approached a large set of double doors made from ancient stone at the end of the corridor once they had reached the bottom of the staircase. It looked heavy and impossible to move, but as he held his flames closer, he could see on each door was a motif of some kind.

“Just a sec,” Natsu said and he focused on the fire in his hands, making it bigger and brighter so they could all see better.

His eyes went wide when he realised what he was looking at. They were motifs of dragons, one on each door, bright red and in mid-flight, breathing fire down on houses below as motifs of people ran from them, evidently screaming. The horrified looks on their faces were in vivid detail, as if whoever made it really wanted people to know how terrifying this piece of history was.

“Whoa...” Gray said.

The dragons had the same red scales as he did; he could see his friend's eyes divert from the motifs to the exposed scales on his hands and the sides of his neck.

He instinctively began dulling his fire as the stark reminder of what his heritage was. He didn’t want that—to be ever seen like that.

“Natsu, your fire! We need it to see!” Lisanna quickly said, snapping him back to the present.

He made his flames big again, although they moved more erratically as he struggled to control them, his eyes finding Lucy’s and briefly wondering if she had suddenly changed her mind about him.

But she didn’t seem scared – more surprised than fearful and it brought him some relief.

“What do you think it means?” Lucy asked, looking at the motif.

Gray snorted. “It’s from the time when dragons ate everyone.”

“You know that’s not what she meant—she means why is there a great big door here with it on?” Natsu said defensively.

Gray shrugged.

“Maybe we should try and open it to find out?” Lisanna suggested, already looking at Lucy.

“But I don’t see a lock...” Lucy answered, stepping forward and looking closely to where a keyhole would be expected to be.

She made a good point: no lock, no handle, just stone in the shape of a large double door. It didn’t seem obvious how it was supposed to open.

“What if there’s something bad on the other side?” Gray quickly asked. “What if it’s a sleeping dragon?”

“I don’t know how it would survive hundreds of years down here with no food,” Lucy explained.

“Yeah, I’d die in maybe two days if that happened to me,” Natsu added.

There was a tentative pause as the four of them debated on what to do; Natsu’s curiosity was burning despite the fact he had an ill feeling about it. Something about the imagery and this whole area was setting off something instinctual in him that he didn’t like.

“I say we open it,” Natsu said suddenly, breaking through the unease, curiosity winning out.

Lisanna hummed in agreement, whereas Lucy and Gray seemed unsure.

Lucy stepped forward first, pressing her palms against the stone surface. Nothing happened. She pushed harder, leaning her whole weight against it, but the door remained stubbornly closed.

“Let me try,” Gray said, moving beside her. He placed both hands on the door and shoved, his face reddening with effort. Still nothing.

Lisanna joined them, all three pushing together. The stone didn’t budge even a fraction of an inch.

“Maybe there’s a trick to it,” Lucy panted, stepping back and wiping her hands on her dress. “Some kind of mechanism we’re missing.”

Natsu watched them struggle, his flames flickering uncertainly in his palm. Something about the door felt suddenly familiar, though he couldn’t say why. The dragon motifs seemed to stare at him, their carved eyes almost alive in the dancing firelight.

“Move over,” he said quietly.

The others stepped aside as Natsu approached the door. The moment his fingertips, still holding fire, touched the cold stone, he felt a strange tingling sensation run up his arms. The carved dragons seemed to shift slightly, though that might have been a trick of the light.

Then, without any effort from him, the massive doors began to swing inward with a deep, grinding sound that echoed through the corridor.

“Whoa,” Gray breathed. “How did you—”

“I don’t know,” Natsu cut him off, staring at his fire in his hands in confusion.

The doors opened completely, revealing a large circular chamber beyond. Natsu’s fire cast long shadows across the space, illuminating strange geometric patterns carved deep into the stone floor, like they were supposed to carry water. At the centre of the room sat a massive rock that looked out of place and the side of it facing towards them was also covered in the same dragon motif that adorned the doors.

The air inside felt thick and heavy, pressing down on them like an invisible weight. Natsu’s scales prickled uncomfortably beneath his clothes, and every instinct he had screamed at him to turn around and leave.

“Should we go in?” Lisanna whispered, her voice barely audible.

Natsu took a reluctant step forward, his fire casting eerie shadows that danced across the ritualistic designs on the floor. The patterns seemed to move in his peripheral vision, though when he looked directly at them, they were still.

“I don’t like this place,” he admitted, his voice slightly rougher than usual.

He could feel Lucy’s eyes on him, studying the way the door had opened only for him, taking in the dragon motifs that covered every surface. He knew she was smart enough to put the pieces together – that this place had something to do with his fire, his magic and his ancestry.

The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He didn’t want Lucy to see him like this, anxious and unsettled in a way he couldn’t explain. He certainly didn’t want her to see him as a monster like those dragons that were slaughtering people.

“It’s okay,” Lucy said softly, moving closer to him, her body language telling him that she wasn’t feeling that way about him. “We don’t have to stay long.”

Her voice was gentle, understanding, and Natsu felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

Gray had already wandered towards one of the walls, running his fingers along the carved symbols. “These markings are really old. I can’t read any of it.”

Lisanna stayed near the entrance, wrapping her arms around herself. “It feels cold in here, even with Natsu’s fire.”

Lucy walked carefully around the edge of the room, avoiding the strange patterns on the floor. The ritualistic designs seemed to spiral inward toward the central stone, like they were meant to draw something, or someone, to the centre where the large stone sat.

Natsu remained frozen near the doorway, his flames flickering more wildly now. His breathing had become shallow with the longer he stayed, and he could see Lucy was looking at him with worry on her face.

“That’s enough,” Lucy said firmly, turning back to the group. “We should leave. Now.”

“But we just got here,” Gray protested. “Don’t you want to figure out what this place is?”

“No,” Natsu said quickly, already backing toward the door. “Lucy’s right. We should go.”

They filed out of the chamber, and the moment they were all clear, the heavy stone doors swung shut with the same grinding sound. Natsu let out a breath as the tension disappeared in an instant, as if whatever was making him feel that strange way was staying behind, sealed inside.

He glanced back, the eyes of the dragons feeling as if they were watching him closely. He didn’t know what it meant, or why the place responded to his magic.

As they climbed back up the spiral staircase with Lucy walking behind him, Natsu found himself hoping he would never have to see that strange room again and his mind wondered why such a room existed in the deepest levels of the castle in the first place.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five
Lisanna

Tensions were growing between the King and Lord Igneel. Lucy wasn’t sure why, but she had heard them arguing more frequently than not when passing the throne room. She was more enveloped in whatever game she and Natsu had found themselves playing but she heard their voices nonetheless, and each harsh word that filtered through the heavy doors made her chest tighten with worry.

Natsu didn’t seem concerned. He had complete faith that his father would fix whatever rift was forming. She had noticed the scarf around his neck and the way he touched it whenever the topic of his father was brought up. Natsu had told her it used to belong to him and now he seemed to treasure it, even going so far as to wear it during the hot summer days.

Then one day, a visit from Lord Igneel and Natsu was abruptly cancelled much to Lucy’s surprise and disappointment and her father locked himself away in his throne room for the day with a handful of lords, deep in conversation. Aquarius told her not to worry – the Dragneels would be back soon enough and she believed her as her tutor seemed to know a great deal about everything.

A week went by with only lessons and books to entertain herself with. Her father had become so busy that she wasn’t even seeing him at mealtimes anymore. Lucy was lonely with Natsu or her other friends, and a frustration was building up within her – the solar also not feeling right without any of them there and the dreams of adventures sat there, silent and waiting.

But then, just as she thought she might go a little crazy, there was another surprise.

Lisanna suddenly came to visit the palace with her mother who had come to spend time with the ladies of the lords in some sort of function in the great hall.

“Lucy!” Lisanna called from down the corridor as soon as Lucy spotted her, having gone to find her immediately after being told she had a friend today. The sound of her name being called with such genuine joy made Lucy’s heart lift for the first time in days.

“Lisanna!” Lucy called back happily, her voice cracking slightly with relief. She was all smiles to finally have company again, and truth be told, she had never spent any time with her without the company of the boys and Lucy was honestly giddy at the thought of having girl time for once.

“I was really happy to come once I heard it would be just us,” Lisanna said, as if she had just read Lucy’s mind. “It will be nice to talk without all the chaos the boys bring.”

“Yes,” Lucy agreed, speaking more formally than she normally would after a week alone. “But we’ve got to have some fun too! What shall we do first?”

“It’s your home,” Lisanna reminded her. “Any ideas?”

Lucy raked her brain for something they could do that wasn’t the usual craziness of having their full group there. It didn’t come easily – she had grown used to running in the corridors and investigating parts of the castle that might hold secrets.

Whether it was Natsu’s influence on her or her discovering she had a rebellious streak all on her own, Lucy came up with a suggestion.

“Well,” Lucy said, her eyes lighting up with mischief, “we could sneak down to the kitchens? I’ve only ever been allowed in the dining areas and I’ve always wondered what goes on down there during the day.”

Lisanna’s face broke into a grin. “That sounds perfect! I love watching people cook. My sister Mira is always trying new recipes at home when she gets the chance, but she’s not supposed to as we have our own cooks for that.”

“Then it’s decided!” Lucy declared. She offered her hand and they began traversing the castle. The kitchens were further down than the upper levels, but not close to the old passages or the disused dungeon. As far as Lucy knew, the servants either carried meals to the great hall or the formal dining room themselves or used a pulley system that connected to the kitchens through a chute of some kind.

They held hands as young friends would, feeling comfortable with each other’s presence and Lucy appreciated the gentler atmosphere while simultaneously missing Natsu’s boisterous personality with a pang of longing. She had wondered what it would be like if it were just Gray here too, imagining their conversation might progress into something more intellectual with his interest in history.

“What do you think they’re making today?” Lisanna asked as they made their way down a flight of carpeted stairs.

“Probably cakes for the ladies,” Lucy replied confidently, well adjusted to the expectations of all the formal events in the palace. “But I’m not sure about tonight. Sometimes my father asks the chefs to make something special that only he likes.” She turned her nose up at the thought, remembering the fish stew he asked for last time – some old Stellarian recipe that only the elderly liked, Lucy thought.

“Well, you know my family always bring a whole bakery to the castle when we’re invited,” Lisanna proudly reminded her. “Maybe if I’m lucky, the chefs will be making some sort of new pastry I can impress my brother and sister with.”

“Let’s hope so,” Lucy agreed. Lisanna was right about that. The Strauss family always did bring the best buns that rivalled the palace’s offerings, much to the disappointment of the head chef whom Lucy had heard was desperate to come up with a better recipe, but all had been failures so far.

The closer they got to the kitchens, the more wonderful smells began to waft toward them – fresh bread, roasting meats, and something sweet that made Lucy’s mouth water. She had been right about the cakes.

They found the double doors to the kitchen, the sounds of sizzling, the banging of utensils on metal and the muffled voice of the head chef shouting her commands across the kitchen.

“Do you think we’ll get in trouble?” Lisanna whispered as they approached the large wooden doors.

“Not if we’re careful,” Lucy whispered back, though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. She’d only seen the inside of the kitchen once and was quickly escorted away by a junior chef with the head chef stating that the royal kitchen was no place for children to be. “If we sneak in behind the barrels of water, they won’t see us.”

“Until they want water,” Lisanna stated, pointing out a flaw in the plan.

Lucy nodded but didn’t see any other way to get a close view of what the chefs were doing other than just straight up asking – but she suspected the strange atmosphere in the castle was making everyone more likely to stick to the rules and they would decline her request.

She gently pushed one of the doors open only slightly, quickly observing the bustling scene of organised chaos. Cooks moved with practised efficiency, chopping vegetables, stirring large pots, and kneading dough.

Lucy gestured for Lisanna to follow and they quickly ducked into the room, Lucy leading the way to the barrels kept in the corner. They hid behind them for a few seconds before peering over the top to observe the kitchen at work.

“Oh wow,” Lisanna breathed, her eyes wide. “Look at how they’re doing that!” She pointed to a chef who was expertly filleting a fish with quick, precise movements.

“Oh no,” Lucy said, suddenly feeling gloomy. “It really is that fish stew again.”

“Fish stew?” Lisanna whispered to her questioningly. “I don’t think so, see—” She indicated to what the chef was doing – layering a mixture of crumbs and herbs on top of the fish fillet. “You don’t do that to a fish you’re going to put in a stew.”

“Oh, I see,” Lucy replied, not used to someone else knowing more things than her for once. “So how do they cook that then?”

“The fish – it’s probably a herb crust – Mira, my sister, loves making that but on meat. They’re going to put it in the oven,” Lisanna replied as they watched the fish be placed on a tray and taken to one of the big, heavy ovens on the other side of the room.

Watching it made Lucy realise what the dish was finally and she looked to Lisanna with a smile, like she had figured out a puzzle. “I think it might be for Lord Yajima.” Lucy knew him as one of the nicer lords who was interested in agricultural pursuits. “He loves that dish – served with some salted potatoes and lots of roasted vegetables.”

“Mmm,” Lisanna hummed. “Sounds nice.”

It didn’t take long for Lisanna to point out what she was originally looking for – the pastry chef on the far side of the room, not far from the ovens. Lucy watched as a young man pounded into balls of a white mass before shaping it.

“He’s shaping dough,” Lisanna answered before Lucy had even asked. “But what kind of dough I wonder…”

“I feel silly for not knowing any of this,” Lucy suddenly said, frustrated that she couldn’t answer Lisanna’s question.

Lisanna shrugged. “That’s fine. I guess they don’t teach royalty how to cook in a kitchen – but even so…” She looked to her, her expression full of reassurance. “You’re not expected to know absolutely everything anyway.”

Lucy felt conflicted at hearing that. She had been taught that she should know as many things as possible if it were to benefit the kingdom, but simultaneously, hearing that felt like Lisanna lifted a small weight off her shoulders and the burden of learning so much didn’t feel so heavy.

“Right,” Lucy agreed, dropping more formalities in the process. “What’s he doing now?”

“It looks like—” Lisanna shifted positions a few times to get a better view before getting frustrated. “I’ll find out.”

Without warning, Lisanna shifted into her small white mouse form, much to Lucy’s surprise and sudden realisation that it was a terrible choice of animal for the kitchen – if the chefs saw her—

Lisanna took off very quickly, running past Lucy’s feet and climbing up a counter nearby before dashing up a pipe that Lucy really hoped was not hot.

Even in mouse form, Lisanna seemed so nimble and graceful, perhaps even more so than as a person, Lucy thought.

Soon, Lisanna was on top of a shelf with a good overview of the kitchen and Lucy was unable to take her eyes off her, the fear of her friend getting caught holding her full attention. She would be ready to dive in to save her if needs be.

A few tense minutes passed, Lucy having to duck behind the barrel several times to avoid detection before Lisanna made her way back to Lucy, leaping from the shelf to Lucy’s open hands when it became obvious what she was returning.

Lucy placed her on the ground quickly and Lisanna shifted back effortlessly without fanfare, letting out a small sigh as she resumed her true form.

“Are you okay?” Lucy asked at seeing her so out of breath.

“Yeah,” Lisanna replied. “It’s just tiring changing forms – I’ll get better at it as I grow up.”

Lucy understood. It seemed most people born with magic all shared that in common. Something changed when you became a grown-up, or just got easier with time. Not her however, she thought with her small lock opening ability. It didn't drain her in the slightest.

“He was making some kind of cinnamon and almond bun,” Lisanna said. “I think my family has a similar recipe.”

Lucy licked her lips. “I know those buns – my father likes having them when he’s having coffee.”

Lisanna cocked her head. “Coffee?” she whispered curiously.

It hadn’t occurred to Lucy that coffee could ever be a rarity, knowing it as something her father and the lords drank at the palace.

“It’s a drink,” Lucy replied, unsure of what else to reply with. She had no idea how it was made or its origin.

“I’ll have to ask my sister about it later then,” Lisanna replied.

Lucy picked up on that too – Lisanna mentioned her family and sister a lot. They sounded close and nothing like her and her father. Natsu was similar in that way – he mentioned his father with pride. She quickly concluded that she and Gray must be similar, as he didn’t speak of his family much at all by comparison.

Another chef passed the barrels of water and the head chef picked up her pace, yelling louder and making it harder to observe the kitchen.

“Maybe we should go,” Lisanna said with disappointment.

“Yes, best we do before we get caught,” Lucy agreed. “Let’s go to the solar next?”

Lisanna nodded in agreement and they carefully left the kitchen together, tiptoeing quickly back out of the double doors without being noticed.

Able to speak again without whispering on the other side, Lucy was the first to say something. “I kind of wish I knew more about cooking. All I know is what ends up on my plate.”

“That’s not your fault,” Lisanna said gently. “You have so many other things to learn. I can’t imagine having to study all the things a princess needs to know.”

“How am I going to make any food on our adventures if I don’t get a chance to learn?” Lucy said after checking that there were no guards nearby to overhear them.

Lisanna chuckled. “Leave that to me! I’ll learn plenty so you won’t have to worry about that. Somebody has to keep Natsu fed after all!” She was so confident in the way she said that and Lucy couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it – like it made her feel sorely lacking in helpfulness.

Lisanna wasn’t wrong. Natsu always ate the most out of all of them, although Gray wasn’t that far behind him. It made sense that someone knew how to make sure they all got to eat well when they all would go to find rideable alligators, but it left Lucy feeling a little… too pampered in her current situation perhaps.

“It will be strange with the boys in the solar,” Lisanna said as they headed back up the stairs.

“Do you think they’ll mind?” Lucy asked, worried they were disturbing some kind of unspoken rule when they made the place theirs.

“I don’t think so.”

They continued through the halls, towards the great hall as the solar was not far from there. They passed the throne room on the way there, two guards standing stoically outside and briefly greeting Lucy politely.

Lucy greeted them back kindly and continued walking with Lisanna innocently until she heard her father’s voice on the other side.

“—Are you sure about that Byron?”

She stopped in her tracks for a moment, curious about what was being discussed. Lisanna walked on a little ahead before realising Lucy wasn’t following and rejoined her.

“Lucy?” Lisanna enquired before Lucy gently shushed her.

The guards looked uneasy about Lucy standing there and she knew they would move her along shortly.

“I’m quite sure. I’ve been researching the subject thoroughly.”

“—I can’t believe that. The man is nothing but kind and has served the kingdom well.”

“Your majesty, I know it looks that way, but mark my words, someone of his… nature, has other intentions.”

Lucy couldn’t be sure who they were talking about, but Lord Byron sounded very determined to get her father to listen to what he had to say. She knew her father was strained with the weight of the lord's arguments, but she hadn’t been privy to what they were talking about in private.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” one of the guards said, speaking up and sounding uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to move along from here – you know you’re not supposed to loiter by the throne room.”

“Yes, sorry,” Lucy answered and continued walking with Lisanna.

She had a strange feeling that the snippet of the conversation was important somehow, but it was lord stuff, and she had to trust that her father would resolve everything with everyone as he tried diplomacy.

The solar looked different without the boys there – quieter, more peaceful. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting everything in a golden glow. Their makeshift decorations and adventure planning materials were still scattered about, but somehow it felt more special with just the two of them there.

“It’s so pretty in here when it’s daytime,” Lisanna said, settling down on one of the cushions they’d arranged by the window. “I love how the light comes in.”

Lucy joined her, tucking her legs beneath her. “I’m glad you like it. This place has become... well, it’s ours, isn’t it? All of ours, I mean.”

“Yes,” Lisanna agreed, her voice soft with affection. “But without the boys here, we can talk openly, just the two of us.”

Lucy looked at her curiously, wondering what she meant. “But we always talked openly with them?”

Lisanna giggled. “That’s not what I mean – I mean we can be girls! Girl-talk time!”

She got up and moved over to her favourite armchair and once again made herself comfortable, looking suddenly animated. “For example, we can talk about… our favourite clothes!”

Lucy smiled, finally understanding. “Oh, right! They would hate that kind of talk. I do have a lot of dresses I really like.”

“What about other things than dresses?” Lisanna asked. “My family is fine with me wearing other things sometimes, but always dresses to the palace and other fancy places.”

Lucy shook her head. “I’m only supposed to wear dresses because…” She stopped mid-sentence, realising how tired she was getting of saying the word. A princess. It was a pretty title with a lot of rules and having friends that didn’t have those rules had Lucy starting to feel envious of their freedom.

Lisanna, seemingly understanding what Lucy was going to say, continued anyway. “My favourite dress is a lilac dress. It was really expensive for my parents to buy and it’s really, really soft.”

Lucy sat thoughtfully for a moment, picturing each and every dress she had. “Mine is maybe… my pink dress with ribbons? I’m not sure, I have so many.”

“Why that one?” Lisanna asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

“I like the colour,” Lucy replied simply, then blushed at how basic that sounded.

“I thought you might be a pink kind of girl,” Lisanna replied with a smile that made Lucy feel understood.

“—Well, I like other colours too!” Lucy quickly insisted, not wanting to seem limited. “Like blue and yellow, and red…”

“Me too,” Lisanna quickly quipped with reassuring enthusiasm. “I wish I could change into different coloured animals – not just white like my hair.”

Lucy realised then that each and every time that Lisanna changed into an animal, she had always been the same colour.

“What about your family?” Lucy asked suddenly, curious about her magic and eager to learn more about this fascinating ability. “Do they all have the same magic as you?”

Lisanna nodded. “Yep! Both my brother and sister can shift like me, although they can change into much stronger animals. You don’t want to upset my brother; he can change into a big bear if he wants to.”

“A whole bear?” Lucy asked, excited at the very idea and feeling a thrill of vicarious power. “What about your sister?”

“An even bigger bear! With a bird’s face and feathers!” Lisanna said excitedly, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “And one day, I want to be able to change into big animals like them too.”

Lucy gasped. “With feathers?! Is that a real animal?”

“My sister says it is, and she can change into it, sooo,” Lisanna replied, looking rather prideful as she talked about her family.

Lucy sat up, glancing over at Natsu’s adventure plans on the wall. “That will be really good for our future adventure if you can change into things like that.”

“I know - I can’t wait,” Lisanna cooed happily. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

The two of them fell into an easy silence for a moment, both thinking of their future plans before Lisanna suddenly turned to Lucy.

“You know,” she said softly, “I think I understand Natsu’s magic better than most people do.”

Lucy looked up from the table where she was looking over one of the locations that Gray had pointed out on a map and circled it, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Well, his dragon scales—they’re not so different from my shapeshifting, are they? They’re both just... parts of who we are.” Lisanna’s voice grew more confident. “When I turn into a rabbit or a sparrow, I’m still me. Just like when Natsu’s scales appear, he’s still Natsu.”

Lucy hadn’t considered their magic to be similar in that way before, but it wasn’t exactly the same at all in her eyes. The comparison felt both insightful and somehow incomplete. “I suppose… but Natsu said one day he’ll always have his scales on him.”

“That’s true,” Lisanna agreed, her enthusiasm waning a little, although Lucy wasn’t sure why. “I wonder if he will be okay with that.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Lucy asked, not really thinking before saying it, but then quickly clarifying. “He said his dad is fine with showing them off to everyone.”

“But people talk, I hear them sometimes,” Lisanna said with some sadness in her voice. “It must hurt sometimes.”

“But he has us,” Lucy reminded her, smiling. “And I think his scales are great.”

“Me too,” Lisanna agreed with her, a little too fast.

“—Because the way I see magic,” Lucy began, her voice turning noble again and sounding older than she really was. “Is it's a part of you – a piece of your soul made visible. To reject someone’s magic would be like rejecting them entirely.”

“... You sound very grown-up,” Lisanna said with a small smile. “We're only eleven years old.”

“I have to be,” Lucy replied, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “There’s so much I need to learn for when I come of age.”

“Yes,” Lisanna agreed, though something in her voice seemed a bit distant. Lucy was enjoying this – just talking. Truth be told, as much as she enjoyed playing games with Natsu and Gray around the castle, the games were becoming less fun than they used to be or dare she say it, childish.

Lisanna was quiet for a moment, then looked at Lucy with a thoughtful expression. “Lucy, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you ever think about what will happen when we’re older? Like, really older?” Lisanna’s voice was softer now, more serious than Lucy had ever heard it.

Lucy felt a little flutter of unease. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Lisanna said, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, “my sister Mira was telling me about... about how things work when you grow up. About marriage and... and having children.”

Lucy looked at her, a little confused and feeling increasingly uncomfortable. “What about it?”

“Are you… okay with it? Because it doesn’t sound very romantic to me at all – the having children part.” Lisanna crossed her arms, a look of disgust coming across her face that mirrored Lucy’s growing unease.

“I don’t understand,” Lucy admitted, confusion battling in her chest. “I know all kinds of people can get married – and the lords and ladies who get married eventually get children some how.”

Lisanna’s expression dropped, her eyes widening with realisation. “You haven’t learnt that part yet?”

“What part?” Lucy asked, genuinely confused and feeling increasingly left out and young.

“Oh,” Lisanna said, blushing furiously. “Never mind – it doesn’t matter right now.”

“No, go on, tell me!” Lucy insisted, getting up and approaching Lisanna in the armchair with desperate curiosity. “If it’s a secret, you can whisper it to me if you want.”

Lisanna looked very hesitant, conflict clear on her face, but perhaps there was something about the way Lucy’s pleading eyes were staring at her hopefully that made her relent in sharing her small piece of embarrassing information.

She leaned forward, gesturing for Lucy to bring her head closer so she could whisper into her ear. Lucy leaned in as Lisanna began whispering about something that happens after people have a wedding and she found her eyes going wide, her jaw dropping and feeling equally disgusted by what Lisanna knew. The blood drained from her face.

“That doesn’t sound right at all!” Lucy insisted, backing off with horror written across her features. “Why would anyone do that!”

“… Mira told me that’s what happens – but I wonder if she was messing with me,” Lisanna said, shrivelling her nose with distaste. “I think I’m just going to do the getting married part only.”

“Me too!” Lucy said, determined and trying to remove the unsettling image from her head. She couldn’t even figure out the logistics of how what Lisanna described was even supposed to work.

“But you’re the princess,” Lisanna reminded her with gentle concern. “So aren’t you supposed to have a child one day?”

“Not happening! Not if that's what you have to do!” Lucy insisted with fierce determination, panic rising in her throat. “Besides, I’m going on adventures with everyone instead once I’ve fixed enough things with the lords and married someone who wants to be a king.”

“Wait – a king?” Lisanna asked, as if Lucy had just forgotten to mention an important part of her ascension. “I thought you would be the main ruler as queen?”

Lucy shook her head, feeling the familiar weight of complicated Stellarian laws. “My family is from Stellarian descent, which means we are guided by the Celestial King, so that means whoever marries me has to be king, because the stars always have a king.”

“Well, that’s a strange law,” Lisanna said with a frown. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“They still have to have to take my family name,” Lucy quickly added, as if that somehow made it better. “… Unless they are also from Stellarian descent too.”

“Probably not too many of those around any more,” Lisanna said, demonstrating she knew some history.

The history of Stella was one of the first lessons Lucy had ever received, and many times, her tutors before Aquarius had covered it over and over again, each time in more detail than the last. That it was a kingdom that once prospered long ago, but for a number of complicated reasons, it declined to the point that nobody wanted to live there any more. People stopped having children, nobody came to live there from other kingdoms, the creatures grew more fierce on the island and some scholars speculated that dragons might have had a hand in its ultimate downfall.

“Does this mean your father doesn’t have your bloodline?” Lisanna asked, piecing together Lucy’s explanation.

“He doesn’t have a magical bloodline at all,” Lucy replied honestly. “He married my mother who carried the bloodline and name.”

Lisanna took a moment to consider what Lucy had said before pressing on. “Hmm, so your father picks the future king then… But what if you don’t want to marry the person your father picks for you?”

“I...” Lucy hesitated, her heart racing as she faced a fear she’d never really had to voice before. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll have to find a way to make it work. Use my royal authority somehow so I can go on our adventure.”

Lisanna shook her head gently, her expression filled with sympathy that made Lucy’s chest tighten. “I told my sister about our plans and well... Mira said it doesn’t work like that. She said even princesses have to follow certain rules about marriage.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked, settling back down beside Lisanna’s chair with growing dread.

Lisanna bit her lip, looking uncomfortable and almost sorry for what she was about to say. “Well, Mira explained to me that... that’s why princesses have to get married. To make a baby who can become the next prince or princess. It’s not really about love or anything like that – it’s about continuing the royal line.”

Lucy’s face scrunched up in disgust, but underneath the revulsion was a growing panic. “Absolutely not! I refuse to do any of that horrible stuff you told me about just to have a royal baby. There has to be another way.”

“But Lucy,” Lisanna said gently, “Mira also told me that you’ll be expected to do it as soon as possible because there are no other heirs to the Heartfilias. So if something happened to you, their whole legacy would just... end.”

Lucy looked genuinely surprised by this information, her eyes widening as the full weight of her responsibility crashed down on her. “I... I didn’t know that part.” The words came out small and frightened. “But it doesn’t matter – I still won’t do it. They’ll just have to find another way.”

Lisanna was quiet for a moment, then brightened as if she’d had an idea. “Well, maybe you could choose to marry Gray without your father’s say in it? That way you could still go on all of our adventures, and he’s nice enough that he will let you have your freedom.”

“Why Gray?” Lucy asked curiously, not ever considering that as an option, then shaking her head as realisation dawned. “It doesn’t matter, my father would never allow it. He’s not important enough for my father to approve of it.”

“Gray was just an example,” Lisanna said quickly, though there was something in her voice that suggested it wasn’t entirely random.

Lucy tilted her head questioningly, ready to bring up Natsu also as a viable example too, but Lisanna continued before she could ask.

“I suppose you could marry anyone important that would also be willing to let you have your freedom, and it would still work out the same way,” Lisanna said thoughtfully.

“I suppose that’s true,” Lucy agreed, though something about the whole conversation was making her feel uneasy in a way she couldn’t quite name. “But I don’t want to think about any of that right now.”

She stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the castle grounds and then beyond them, desperately seeking the comfort of open horizons. When she spoke, her voice was filled with strong determination that completely masked her growing fear. “I’m going to make sure I see some of the world first before I have to worry about ruling or any of that other stuff. There’s so much out there beyond these walls.”

Lisanna didn’t say anything more to her on the subject, but her silence felt heavy with unspoken thoughts, leaving Lucy unaware that her vision for her future was looking more and more impossible to pull off.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six
Metamorphosis

When Princess Lucy turned twelve years old on the cusp of spring, when winter had ended earlier than expected, she wasn’t expecting much of a celebration. The kingdom would only celebrate her birthday once she turned sixteen or approximately two hundred moons, which in her mind was fine, because other children didn’t have the whole kingdom celebrating their birthdays and it made her feel more normal, more like them.

Instead, the servants often put something together for her – a cake, her favourite meal and small tokens of appreciation – trinkets really. Anything they made for her that could be worn was not suitable for her status, much to her dismay, so they focused on giving her what she could actually have.

A new book or toy. A short story they remembered about her mother. One servant once even offered her a poem, which didn’t rhyme or make much sense, but the gesture meant everything to her.

She would usually share an evening meal with her father at her behest on this day, but the palace had become rife with arguments and there were more royal guards than ever stationed around the palace. Somehow, she doubted that he would make time for her this year.

Playing games had also become more troublesome with her friends, thanks to the increased security. They became reluctant to reveal the secret passages they had discovered, and finding that visits to the solar had become nearly impossible under the guards’ watchful eyes.

But after having friends for a couple of years in her life now, there was something she had wanted but never had the chance to experience.

A tea party that she once imagined having with her mother.

It was something she had seen in illustration only from her book collection. The children shown were always much younger than she was, but there was something appealing about sitting around with her friends and eating cakes among the newly sprouting spring flowers.

So she asked Spetto in the sweetest voice she could muster and her caretaker was only too happy to oblige an innocent child’s request.

Thankfully, Lord Dragneel had been invited back rather quickly to the palace despite the prior arguments, although Lucy could see there was a definite strain on the friendship her father had with him. It meant not seeing Natsu for two weeks but when he returned as well, it felt like no time had really passed between his absence and they fell back into their usual routine easily.

So for her uncelebrated birthday, Natsu, Gray and Lisanna would be visiting and her plan was simple – she would take the prepared spread of sandwiches, sweets and drinks to the royal gardens on the fine spring afternoon. Guards would most likely be stationed there too, but as long as they behaved themselves, everything should go smoothly.

Whilst Spetto went to the kitchens and assisted the cooks with Lucy’s request, Lucy set to work on looking for something special in particular.

It was kept in a heavy chest in her chambers – a collection of all the mementoes of her mother. She gently sifted through it, taking care not to damage any of the precious items within – constellation maps, old diaries, a brooch she wore to royal events, till eventually, underneath it all, Lucy found what she was looking for.

It was a blanket that her mother and father shared when they were courting. Much like her intended fate, she had learned that her mother was a princess who was expected to take a husband and so she was introduced to her father. Their story was one of love, thankfully, as mentioned by the older castle residents – and according to them, the king and queen had spent many a day and night with this picnic blanket in the royal gardens, enjoying each other's company until they wed.

And as tradition dictated, her father became the king.

But Lucy was still expecting to change that the moment she could, having decided that she could just simply choose to decline every suitor when she came of age. She figured that the Celestial King would forgive her if she did a good job at being queen by herself.

She unfolded the blanket, admiring the patchwork designs which made it feel humble in a castle of decadence. It was big enough for her and all of her friends to share.

She hastily folded it back together and took it with her as she left, ready to oversee the picnic preparations in the kitchen.

That afternoon, as her friends arrived, she beckoned them excitedly to the gardens much to their surprise, not revealing the reason she wanted to share something new with them.

“Why the gardens, Lucy?” Lisanna asked curiously as she walked alongside Natsu closely, which Lucy noticed but didn’t bother her presently like it had done before. She was too excited to share her arrangements with them to think about her irrational thoughts.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Lucy teasingly said to them, not wanting to spoil the surprise straight away.

“Do what?” Natsu asked.

“You’ll see soon, okay?” Lucy reassured him as Gray picked up the pace.

They reached the gardens and not far from the celestial fountain was her picnic spread, now with fancy plates and tiny teacups shaped like flowers – a commonly seen design in Fiore, although the ones at the palace had dainty gold handles. It was a proper tea service that made Lucy feel very grown-up.

A cake tray awaited them too, laden with sandwiches, small cakes and other little delicacies that were toned down for a child’s palate.

“Is that cake!?” Natsu was the first to remark, dashing ahead away from Lisanna at the sight of the food. He was there in a flash, peering at a variety of iced cakes and buns on offer. “We never get cake outside of banquets!”

Lucy giggled. “I know, but I had to have cakes for a tea party!”

“Tea party?” Gray asked, confused but Lucy could see his eyes hungrily gazing over the food.

“Ohh, I love tea parties!” Lisanna exclaimed, clapping her hands together and walking over to the blanket and setting herself down gracefully, like she knew exactly how these things were supposed to go. “I used to have them all the time with my brother and sister when I was younger.”

“Please, help yourselves!” Lucy said, sitting down beside her and Natsu and gesturing towards the spread of food.

Natsu wasted no time diving in, piling cakes and sandwiches onto a plate.

“Are we supposed to hold our pinkies up?” Gray asked, eyeing the delicate teacup uncertainly. “I saw some visiting ladies do that once.”

“Only if you want to look really dumb,” Natsu replied. “Besides, these cups are too small for normal people’s hands.”

“That’s the point,” Lucy said, carefully pouring tea for everyone. “It’s supposed to be elegant and refined.”

Natsu took a huge bite of a sandwich, crumbs falling onto the blanket. “Tastes the same as regular food.”

“You’re hopeless,” Lucy laughed, but her tone was affectionate rather than critical. She hesitated for a moment, then looked around at her three friends with a shy smile. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you all. The real reason I wanted this tea party.”

“What is it?” Lisanna asked, leaning forward with interest.

Lucy fidgeted with her teacup. “Well... today’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday?” Natsu sat up straighter, nearly knocking over his cup. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have gotten you presents!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Lucy said quickly. “Royal tradition says birthdays don’t really matter until you turn 200 moons—sixteen years old. But I wanted to celebrate with you three anyway, even if it’s just a small tea party.”

“Not a big deal?” Gray shook his head. “That’s the stupidest tradition I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s your birthday, Lucy!” Lisanna exclaimed, her face lighting up. “This makes everything so much more special!”

Natsu grinned widely. “Yeah, I think it’s a big deal. Happy birthday, Lucy.”

Lucy felt warmth spread through her chest at their reactions. This was exactly why she’d wanted to share it with them.

They dug into the food, happily sampling the different cakes and quickly finding that tea wasn’t really something they enjoyed. Lucy assumed it had to be something you liked when you grew up.

Natsu made quite a mess on the blanket, having always been a messy eater. Lucy didn’t mind, but she caught Lisanna’s smile when she too noticed the crumbs on the blanket.

“I can do something about it,” she said, catching Lucy’s eye. In an instant, she transformed into a small white bird and hopped across the blanket to sample Natsu’s crumbs. Lucy had to admit it was a smart way of not wasting food but—

“Don’t eat off the ground,” Gray said, wrinkling his nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“Birds do it all the time,” Lisanna said, shifting back to human form. “Besides, everything tastes better when you’re in animal form. Your senses are different.”

They spent the next hour chatting and laughing, sharing stories and playing simple games that didn’t require running off back into the palace. Lucy felt a warm contentment settle over her – this was exactly what she’d imagined when she’d begged Spetto for a proper tea party. Her friends gathered around her, celebrating her birthday even if Stellarian tradition deemed it unimportant at this stage in her life.

“I need to go and relieve myself,” Gray announced, standing up and brushing crumbs from his clothes. “Save me some more of the sandwiches for when I get back, okay?”

His request was directed at Lucy, but she could see it was more of a warning to Natsu not to polish everything off while he was gone.

Lisanna stood up abruptly too. “I think I just saw a squirrel in a tree over there! I need to go check it out and figure out if I can maybe turn into one.” Lucy watched her dart off quickly, her love for animals and nature taking precedence over the picnic temporarily, but she didn’t mind.

“Don’t wander too far,” Lucy called after her. “The guards get nervous when we’re not in sight.” She had noticed over the past weeks that the guards seemed more on edge, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but their usual easy smiles had been replaced by watchful expressions.

Lisanna nodded in acknowledgement. They had noticed it too, the increased presence of guards and how it was disrupting their usual activities. Lucy hoped it was merely temporary.

Then it was just her and Natsu with the remainder of the picnic. Lucy began gathering the empty plates, saving Gray and Natsu’s who she expected still wanted to eat some more as she hummed softly to herself. The afternoon sun was warm on her shoulders, and she felt perfectly content.

“Don’t worry bout’ that on your birthday,” Natsu said, lying back on the blanket with his hands behind his head. “The servants will clean it up later.”

“That’s not the point,” Lucy said, though she abandoned the plates and settled back onto the blanket beside him. “I wanted to do this properly.”

“You did,” Natsu said, turning his head to look at her. “It was perfect, Lucy. Best birthday tea party ever.”

Something in his tone made her look at him more carefully. “Thank you for being so happy about it. I know it’s silly to care about a birthday that doesn’t officially matter.”

“But your birthday does matter,” he mumbled.

Lucy chose not to reply, happy that he thought so.

“You should convince your dad to let you come to my birthday in the summer,” Natsu began. “That’s when there’s always the best food, all cooked over a big fire. I don’t even mind if there has to be guards there to watch us.”

“I’d like to,” Lucy began, but with some sadness in her voice. “But I don’t think my dad would ever allow that… not with the way things are around here now.”

“That’s not fair.”

Lucy nodded in agreement, but it was for all for her safety supposedly and with the castle’s increased security, she doubted her father would change his mind on that anytime soon.

As she finished tidying up, she looked back over at Natsu, who had yet to touch any more of the food. He looked deeply in thought about something and she was curious as to what.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy asked him.

Natsu was quiet for a moment, staring up at the canopy of leaves above them. “My dad says that when you’re older, you’ll have to do everything the official way. Royal things like ceremonies and celebrations with other royals and important people.” His voice grew quieter. “He says you might not have time for... for people like us.”

Lucy felt her stomach drop. “People like you?”

“You know. Not royalty. Not important.” Natsu’s voice was calm, but Lucy could hear the hurt underneath.

“That’s stupid,” Lucy said fiercely, surprising herself with her vehemence. “You are important. You’re important to me.”

Natsu turned to look at her, and Lucy saw something vulnerable in his green eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Lucy said, then hesitated. “Remember what you promised me? What we all promised about going on adventures?” She knew that would be more complicated than she had originally thought, but remained steadfast on making it work. She didn’t need to go into the specifics of how with Natsu right now.

“Of course. Like I would forget that,” Natsu said, sitting up slightly. 

“Do you still mean it?” Lucy asked softly. “Will you still take me with you even when I have to do all those official things first?”

“I promise,” Natsu said firmly. “Adventures, just like we planned once you’ve done all of that. Nothing's gonna change that.”

Lucy felt tears prick at her eyes, though she wasn’t sure why. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Natsu. That’s the best birthday present you could have given me.”

Natsu’s fingers curled around hers, and Lucy noticed how warm his skin always was, having grown warmer since she first met him, like his magic was growing stronger inside of him.

They lay there in comfortable silence, hands linked, watching the leaves dance in the breeze above them. Lucy felt something settle in her chest – a warmth that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun and everything to do with the boy lying beside her.

When Gray and Lisanna returned a few minutes later, they found Lucy and Natsu still lying side by side, hands clasped, looking completely at peace.

“Oh, how sweet,” Gray said with a snigger. “Should we leave you two lovebirds alone?”

Natsu’s face went red and he started to pull his hand away, but Lucy held on tighter. “Shut up, Gray,” Natsu muttered.

“We’re just holding hands,” Lucy said primly, though her cheeks were pink. “It’s perfectly normal for friends to do.”

Lisanna settled back onto the blanket, but Lucy noticed she sat a little farther away than before, and kept glancing at their joined hands with an expression Lucy couldn’t quite read.

“So,” Lisanna said, reaching for another small cake with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, “what should we do next?”

Lucy looked around at her three friends, feeling that warm contentment fill her chest again. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But whatever it is, I want to do it together.”

As the afternoon wore on and the sun began to set, Lucy tried to memorise every detail of the moment – the way the light filtered through the leaves, the smell of newly bloomed spring flowers, the sound of her friends’ laughter, the warmth of Natsu’s hand in hers, the way this simple birthday celebration felt more important than any grand ceremony ever could. She had no way of knowing that this would be one of the last peaceful moments they’d share as children, but something in her heart told her to hold onto it tightly.

So she did.

It came without warning one night, not long after her birthday, before summer had truly struck the kingdom. Lucy was awoken with gentle nudging and she struggled to wake up, unsure if she was dreaming or not.

“Lucy, wake up already you lazy little hu—”

She recognised Aquarius’ impatient voice and her face came into view slowly in her darkened room. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but the fact that it was still dark meant it wasn’t morning yet and that meant this situation didn’t make sense to her tired mind.

And Aquarius never came to her room – that was Spetto’s job.

“Miss Aquarius—” Lucy began to say sleepily, about to ask what it was.

But then her hearing caught up with the rest of her.

There was shouting – a lot of shouting outside, past her window and beyond the castle walls. And it sounded thunderous and angry.

Then there was a crash somewhere in the distance, but loud enough that it had Lucy leaping out of bed in a fit of panic.

“We need to go,” Aquarius said, taking Lucy’s hand as the loud sounds of hammering, crashing and yelling created a cacophony somewhere in the castle that had Lucy’s heart racing with worry as she tried to guess what was happening.

She wasn’t given the chance to change – Aquarius practically dragged her by her small hand from her chambers in her nightgown into the corridor as guards rushed past them, their armour clinking rapidly and their halberds knocking over the ancient paintings.

“What’s happening?” Lucy asked, trying to raise her voice over the noise that was echoing up through the corridor.

Aquarius tugged her in the opposite direction from the guards. “Don’t worry about that—let’s just get you somewhere safe.”

“Safe?” Lucy asked, her eyes widening in horror. “What about father, is he—“

“He’s fine as far as I know,” Aquarius quickly replied. “He’s got more guards surrounding him than I can count.”

Lucy quickly realised where they were going, having learned the maze of the palace well from her time spent running around it. Aquarius was taking her to one of the rooms central to the whole structure – where people who were not guards were supposed to go if something bad happened.

“Spetto?” Lucy asked, concerned for the caretaker who would normally be there.

“She’s probably already there,” Aquarius answered, but she didn’t sound confident in her response.

They reached the inner sanctum, a room for emergencies in case the castle was breached, just as another thunderous crash echoed through the palace, this one much closer than before. Lucy’s bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor as Aquarius hurried her through the heavy wooden doors, which immediately slammed shut behind them with a resounding thud that made Lucy jump.

The room was dimly lit by a few flickering candles, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Several other maids huddled together in the room, their faces pale with worry. Lucy’s heart sank when she realised Spetto wasn’t among them.

“Where is she?” Lucy asked, her voice small and trembling. “Where’s Spetto?”

Aquarius guided her to a cushioned bench, her usually sharp demeanour softened by concern. “She was helping evacuate the other staff quarters. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

But Lucy could hear the uncertainty in Aquarius’ voice, and it made her stomach twist with dread. The sounds of fighting seemed to be getting closer, and she could now distinguish the clash of metal on metal among the shouting. The sounds weren’t just outside the palace walls any more—it was inside.

“Miss Lucy,” one of the younger maids whispered, her voice shaking. “What’s happening out there?”

Lucy looked around at the frightened faces surrounding her, realising they were all looking to her for answers she didn’t have. She was only twelve, but she was still their princess. She tried to sit up straighter, the way her father had taught her, even though her nightgown felt inadequate and childish.

“I... I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we’re safe here. The guards will protect us.”

Even as she said it, Lucy wondered if it was true. The sounds of battle were growing louder, and she could hear footsteps running back and forth in the corridors beyond their sanctuary. Her thoughts kept returning to her father and whether he really was safe.

Aquarius sat beside her, placing a protective arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “Your father is still the king,” she said quietly, as if reading Lucy’s thoughts. “He’ll be fine. And so will we.”

Lucy nodded, trying to believe it, but her small hands wouldn’t stop shaking as the sound of splintering wood echoed from somewhere deep within the palace.

“Lucy.” Aquarius’s voice was calm as she spoke to her. “How about we talk about something new?”

“Here?” Lucy asked, confused. “Now?”

“It’s as good as any time,” Aquarius replied, as if while she was aware of what was happening outside of the room they were in, it was more of an inconvenience than anything else to her. “Remember what I told you a long time ago – about seeing every story?”

“Yes,” Lucy said, not forgetting that lesson from years ago.

“I want you to keep that in mind once more, alright?”

Lucy nodded, not understanding why but being too frightened to plague her tutor with questions.

“I also have another anecdote for you,” Aquarius then said, her voice still calm. “It’s an old tale – one you might not have heard before.”

Lucy sat still, grateful for the distraction as the maids murmured amongst themselves.

“Once upon a time—” Aquarius paused, seemingly uncomfortable. “—I can’t believe humans begin stories in that way—the King of the Night Sky watched his stars interact with the people on the world below and he felt something special for them.”

Lucy looked up, not catching Aquarius’s strange way of describing people, interested now more than ever as she realised this was yet another version of the Celestial Tears story.

Aquarius continued, her voice more hurried, as if she were short on time. “Some of the people loved talking to the spirits so much that he wanted to bless a chosen few with some of his magic – so one night, he reached out with the tiniest motes of starlight and touched the shoulders of the ones who loved the stars the most.”

Lucy listened with anticipation, realising that this was very similar to another tale she had heard. The tale of how the Stellarians with magic in their veins got their powers in the first place. The version she knew was different – it contained no mention of the Celestial Tears, only fervent devotion to the Celestial King in long forgotten rituals which allowed them to borrow some of his power.

“Those chosen few were thankful for their gift, and honed the magic within them every night to build better bonds with the visiting stars. To their surprise, they found that their children inherited their magic.”

Lucy spoke up suddenly. “I feel like you’re telling me something important.”

“Maybe I am,” Aquarius answered plainly. “Anyway, don’t interrupt. The children continued to carry this magic, growing stronger with every night that passed under the gaze of the stars—” She took a rather bored and unamused sigh. “—the end.”

“What am I supposed to learn?” Lucy asked without pondering the story, not bothering with the guessing games and wanting a clear answer from her for once.

“You’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.”

Another deafening crash shook the entire room, and this time Lucy could hear the unmistakable sound of heavy doors being forced open somewhere above them, all thoughts of Aquarius’s distraction gone. The maids gasped collectively, pressing closer together as dust rained down from the ceiling.

“They’re in the palace,” one of them whispered, her voice barely audible over the growing din.

Lucy’s heart hammered against her ribs as she strained to listen. The shouting was different now—more organised and purposeful. She could make out individual voices calling orders, though she couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“Aquarius,” Lucy whispered, tugging on the older woman’s sleeve. “What if they find us?”

Before Aquarius could answer, rapid footsteps echoed in the corridor just outside their door. Everyone in the room froze, holding their breath. The footsteps slowed, then stopped directly outside the sanctum.

Lucy’s blood turned to ice as she heard the soft scrape of someone testing the door handle.

The handle turned slowly, and Lucy bit back a scream. But instead of rebels, a familiar figure stumbled through the doorway—it was Spetto, her usually pristine appearance dishevelled, her hair escaping from its neat bun.

“Spetto!” Lucy cried, rushing to her caretaker’s side.

“Princess,” Spetto breathed, pulling Lucy into a fierce embrace. “Thank the starry heavens you’re safe.”

“What’s happening out there?” Aquarius asked calmly, helping Spetto to a chair. “How bad is it?”

Spetto’s face was nervous as she looked around the room full of frightened women. “I’m not sure what’s going on. The guards are all rushing to the front gates, although I think a few rebels have made it inside the palace.”

Lucy’s stomach dropped. “Father?”

“—Is safe in the throne room,” Spetto replied, and Lucy caught the meaningful look she exchanged with Aquarius.

A new sound joined the chaos – the splintering of wood much closer than before, followed by triumphant shouts. Lucy pressed herself against Spetto’s side, her earlier attempt at royal composure crumbling as the reality of their situation sank in.

“How long can we stay here?” she whispered.

No one answered.

Very soon, heavy, purposeful footsteps approached their door—but these were different from before. Measured and disciplined. Lucy recognised the rhythmic march of palace guards.

“Your Highness?” came a familiar voice from the other side of the door – one of the men who guarded the door to the throne room. “Princess Lucy?”

Aquarius moved quickly to the door, pressing her ear against it. “She’s here.”

“It’s safe now. The rebellion outside has been halted.”

Relief flooded through Lucy so suddenly that her knees nearly buckled. Aquarius unbarred the door and pulled it open to reveal two of her father’s trusted guards, whose role was to guard the throne room; their armour dented but their faces calm.

“The king?” Spetto asked immediately, still holding Lucy close.

“His Majesty is unharmed,” the guard replied, his weathered face softening as he looked at Lucy. “Shaken, but unharmed. The palace is secure.”

Lucy stepped forward, her small chin raised with determination despite the tremor in her voice. “I want to see him. I want to see my father.”

The guard exchanged a glance with his companion, then nodded respectfully. “Of course, Your Highness. His Majesty has been asking for you as well.”

As they prepared to leave the sanctum, Lucy looked back at the frightened maids who had sheltered with her. Even in her relief, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed tonight—that the world she’d known was no longer as safe as she’d once believed.

But for now, her father was alive, and that was all that mattered.

The hallways were a mess.

The carpets were torn in places from where heavy footsteps had pulled at the strands. The portraits and tapestries were crooked and some had even fallen down. Muddy footprints tracked across marble that usually gleamed, and Lucy noticed strange scuff marks on the walls, as if something heavy had been dragged past in haste.

But there was no blood. No broken glass or splintered wood. It looked more like an army had thundered through the palace in desperate urgency, caring nothing for the beauty they trampled underfoot.

“What’s happened?” Lucy tried desperately asking as Aquarius escorted her through the halls, the two guards behind them and other guards still moving back and forth around them in a hurried manner. Spetto had stayed behind to assist the frightened maids, trusting Lucy to her tutor’s care.

“I’m not sure,” Aquarius answered as she too, looked around at the chaotic mess for answers.

They turned through several more corridors before finally arriving at the doors of the throne room.

Lucy moved to enter, but inexplicably, she felt Aquarius kneel beside her and pull her into a soft embrace.

“Miss Aquarius?” Lucy asked, confused by the sudden gesture.

Aquarius knelt beside her, and Lucy was surprised to see something like tears in her tutor’s usually stern eyes. “Remember what I taught you about seeing every story, child. Sometimes the truth is hidden beneath layers of pain and fear.”

The hug felt tighter than she expected, and Lucy was concerned that this felt like an ending—a goodbye, but that didn’t make any sense. “Be brave, Lucy. Braver than you think you can be. And remember—not everything is as it seems.”

“Miss Aquarius, I don’t understand—”

“You will,” Aquarius said softly. “When the time comes, you will.”

Bewildered by Aquarius’s sudden words, Lucy pulled away, gazing at her for a second before the guards beckoned her to go inside the throne room.

She looked longingly back at Aquarius, feeling a sudden, inexplicable loss for just a moment before looking inwards.

Lucy found that in more disarray than the corridors. The valuable paintings, instruments and relics that were often on display had all vanished, leaving the room bare if it weren’t for the gold throne that still stood at the other end of the room.

Her father sat upon it, his crown sat crooked on his head, and his hands covered his face as if he could hide from the world.

“Father!” The word burst from Lucy’s lips before she could stop it. She broke free from her escorts and ran across the vast empty space, her footsteps echoing in the hollow chamber.

“Lucy,” he mumbled as she approached, his eyes filled with guilt. “Were you safe? You weren’t too frightened, were you?”

Lucy shook her head, though her heart was still racing. “No, Father. But what happened? Why does everything look like this?”

“Good. Some terrible things have happened.” The king’s hands slowly curled into fists against the throne’s armrests. The defeated expression hardened into something sharp and angry.

“Miss Aquarius said there were angry people…” Lucy began, remembering the shouting and hammering outside, near the lower levels of the castle.

“We’ve been betrayed,” her father explained. “I’ve tried my best to keep the peace, but I never expected them to turn on me.”

Confused and surprised, Lucy didn’t know what her father was talking about. “Who father? I don’t understand what happened.”

Her father groaned, standing up and began to pace as he sometimes did when he became agitated. “The lords haven’t been agreeing lately and it’s been very difficult to find a resolution for problems that arise in the kingdom… I wouldn’t expect you to understand yet, Lucy.”

Lucy shook her head, thinking back to her lessons about lords and the order of things. “I understand father. You were trying diplomacy.”

The king smiled briefly. “Yes, that’s right. But—”

Lucy saw his anger yet again.

The king’s face darkened as he continued pacing, his footsteps echoing in the emptied throne room. “—But Lord Dragneel decided that wasn’t enough for him.”

Lucy’s stomach dropped at the mention of Natsu’s father. “Lord Dragneel?”

“A traitor,” the king spat, his voice growing harder. “He’s been plotting against the crown for months, gathering other lords to his cause. Last night, he led an armed rebellion against this very castle.”

“No.” Lucy shook her head frantically. “No, that can’t be right. Lord Dragneel would never do something like that. He’s—he’s Natsu’s father. He’s kind and—”

“He would and he did!” The king’s voice boomed through the chamber, making Lucy flinch. “He brought armed men to the doors of the castle, Lucy. They tried to force their way to the throne room. To me.”

“But there has to be more to it,” Lucy insisted, her voice small but determined. “Maybe he was trying to help somehow, or maybe there was a misunderstanding-”

“There was no misunderstanding!” The king slammed his fist against the arm of his throne. “I trusted him. I welcomed him into our home, let him bring his son to play with my daughter, and this is how he repays me? By trying to overthrow the crown?”

Lucy found herself backing away from her father’s rage, tears blurring her vision. The man before her looked like her father, but his voice was strange and frightening. Nothing made sense any more.

“What happened to him?” she whispered, afraid to hear the answer but needing to know.

The king’s eyes went cold. “Are you asking why he betrayed me, or what I intend to do with him now that he’s been captured?”

Lucy’s throat felt dry. “Both.”

Her father took a deep breath, as if forcing himself to speak calmly. “I assume he disagreed with the new laws I plan to implement with the majority of the lord’s backing. Or perhaps he simply fancied himself wearing a crown.” His voice dropped to something barely above a whisper. “As for what happens next... he will be executed at dusk. We must put this dark chapter behind us.”

The words hit Lucy painfully as she struggled to retain all of this at once. “Execution?” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” But there was no sorrow in his voice, only grim finality. “I’m told that several other lords died in the fighting. Lord Dragneel was... more difficult to subdue, or so I’ve been informed. That dragon blood of his, I suppose.”

Lucy’s legs felt weak. “Father, no. Please, there has to be another way, you can’t—”

“There is no other way.” The king’s voice was immovable and final. “This is how kingdoms maintain order. This is how we protect our people from chaos and rebellion. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be establishing a new royal guard, knights sworn directly to the crown. This will never happen again.”

Through her shock and horror, another terrible thought occurred to her. “What about Natsu?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

The king’s expression softened slightly, and for a moment, Lucy saw a flicker of the father she knew. “I’m sorry, Lucy. Truly, I am. But I had no choice but to have him arrested as well.”

“No!” Lucy’s cry echoed through the empty throne room. “Father, Natsu didn’t do anything wrong! He’s just a boy! He doesn’t even know about any of this!”

“I know that,” the king said, his voice heavy with regret. “But he’s Lord Dragneel’s son. Until we can sort through this entire mess, until we know who else might have been involved or what they might have planned... he has to remain in the dungeons.”

Lucy felt the world spinning around her. The dungeons that they never used? The dungeons long retired after criminals were dealt with in the barracks in the city instead? “But that’s not fair! Natsu doesn’t even know about political things. He just likes to play games and explore the castle and—”

“Lucy, please try to understand—”

“I don’t understand!” Lucy shouted, surprising herself with her own boldness. “None of this makes sense! You’re going to execute Lord Dragneel and you locked Natsu up for something he didn’t even do!”

The king knelt down in front of his daughter, placing his hands on her shoulders. Up close, she could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his face had aged years in a single night. “The boy may be innocent, but he’s been surrounded by conspirators his entire life. We must learn what he knows, even if he doesn’t realise he knows it. Sometimes being a king means making impossible choices. Even when they break your heart.”

Lucy looked into her father’s eyes, seeing the pain there but also something unyielding and terrible. “I want to see him,” she said quietly.

“Lucy—”

“I want to see Natsu. Please, Father. I need to see that he’s alright.”

The king shook his head. “The dungeons are no place for a princess.”

“I don’t care,” Lucy said, her voice growing stronger. “He’s my friend. He must be so scared and confused. Please, father. I’ll do anything else you ask, but please let me see him.”

The king studied his daughter’s face, seeing the determination that reminded him so much of her mother. After a long moment, he sighed heavily. “Very well. Tomorrow, after the execution, you may be escorted down to see him.”

“But—”

“You either agree to those terms, or you won’t see him at all. Do you understand?”

Lucy nodded, though her heart felt like it was breaking. “Yes. Thank you, Father.”

But as she spoke the words, she wondered if the father she’d always known was gone forever, lost somewhere in the chaos of this terrible day.

“I’m going to have you escorted back to your chambers now where you’ll have to remain for the time being until the castle is completely secure and Lord Dragneel has been dealt with—”

“Father, wait.” Lucy’s voice was barely a whisper, but something in her tone made the king pause. “Please. There has to be another way. Exile, or... or imprisonment for life, or—”

“No.” The king stood abruptly, his decision final and his patience wearing thin. “You will not speak of clemency again. This matter is closed.”

Lucy knew she was asking for too much, but she was trying nonetheless. “Father—” 

“Guards,” he called, and two armoured men stepped forward. “Escort the princess to her chambers. She is to remain there until further notice.”

As the guards flanked her, Lucy felt the weight of her powerlessness settle on her shoulders. She was a princess, but she was also just a twelve-year-old girl who couldn’t save her friend’s father from the executioner’s axe.

The walk back to her chambers felt endless. The corridors that had once been filled with warmth and laughter now echoed with the heavy footsteps of guards and the distant sounds of servants trying to restore order. Everything familiar had been tainted by this night.

She entered her room and the door closed behind her with a soft click, and then Lucy was alone.

She moved to her window and pressed her face against the glass, looking out at the gardens where, just weeks ago, she had shared cake and laughter with her friends. The memory felt like something from a dream now, too bright and carefree to be real.

Somewhere in the castle below, Natsu was probably huddled in a cold cell, not understanding why his world had collapsed around him. Tomorrow, his father would die and neither of them could do anything to stop it.

She sank onto her bed, still wearing her nightgown, and pulled her knees to her chest. For the first time since childhood, she felt truly, completely helpless. All her princess lessons, all her dreams of being a different kind of queen, none of it mattered when she couldn’t even save one man’s life.

The tears came then silently, for Lord Dragneel who would die at dusk, for Natsu who would be left alone, for her father who felt like he had become a stranger, and for herself, a princess who had everything that didn’t matter and losing everything that did all at once.

And tomorrow, when it was over, she would have to face Natsu and somehow find the words to comfort a boy whose father had died because of her father’s decision.

The thought made her feel sick.

Lucy pulled her blanket over her head and wept for the innocence she had lost in a single night, knowing she wouldn’t sleep with the terrible knowledge that this was only the beginning of the pain that royalty could cause.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven
Absconsion

Escorted by two guards she didn’t recognise, Lucy made her way down the long flights of stairs after being confined to her chambers all day, to the lower levels of the castle. The basement levels were where the dungeons were kept and for many years, they hadn’t been used and had remained as just a piece of the castle’s past.

The atmosphere felt as oppressive as it always did; the walls leading down were damp and had a musty smell. It only made Lucy hurry faster, desperate to see her friend.

As far as she could discern, Natsu was down there alone. His father was taken elsewhere before his execution that she was spared from watching from such a young age.

As they got closer to the bottom, the ringing sounds of metal rang out in a series of crashes and bangs alongside distant, angry shouting which Lucy recognised as Natsu's voice. It only made her hurry faster as fear enveloped her, her imagination running wild at what was happening.

They reached the bottom, meeting two further guards who seemed to be laughing among themselves. Lucy's escorts caught their attention and they began exchanging quiet whispers which Lucy paid no mind to, her focus on Natsu, who was in a cell at the end of a long corridor from where they stood, crashing against the bars and yelling.

“They killed him!” Natsu’s voice cracked, raw with grief and fury. “They killed my dad! Executed him like some common criminal!”

Lucy didn't think he was referring to the guards, although the way they found it amusing made her feel sick to her stomach.

She didn't wait for permission to approach, taking off and dashing towards Natsu's cell. He didn't seem to register her, his eyes fixated on the guards at the other end.

When she reached the metal bars at the end, she called out. “Natsu!”

She saw him there with chains around his wrists that looked too big for him. His clothes were worn and dirty, which didn’t make sense for a lord’s son but knowing Natsu, he would have made a fuss at his arrest and possibly even picked a fight. Only his scarf around his neck was still clean, although it was a small mystery why he’d been allowed to keep it – most likely his stubbornness not to part with it.

When he eventually looked up at her, she could see he’d been crying. Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes were red and swollen. He looked like he barely registered her presence.

He looked back at the prison guards, the two that escorted her there now gone, his expression fierce and continued. “I'll burn you all to ashes! You're all gonna pay for this!”

Lucy heard the guards laugh again and she felt her fingers clench around the cold bars, ignoring how the rough edges and rusted metal scraped against her palms.

She whipped her head around at them. “Stop it! Stop laughing!” Her voice rang with authority and it seemed to make the two guards fall quiet for a moment. They muttered to themselves and she hoped they were taking her seriously as the princess, despite the circumstances.

She turned back to Natsu, his angry expression not faltering. His chains scraped across the floor as he moved closer to the bars and then, shockingly, slamming himself against them, let out a yell of frustration. Desperately, she reached in with her arm, pressing herself up against the bars.

“Natsu, I'm here! Stop it, you're gonna make things worse if you don't calm down!”

He looked at her again in a way that made her think he was actually seeing her this time. Natsu’s anger wavered for a moment, confusion flickering across his face. Then it hardened again.

“Why'd they do it, Lucy? Why'd your dad kill him?”

Lucy felt tears prick at her eyes at seeing the hurt, the pain, raw and spilling out in rage and a desperate want to understand how any of this had happened. “I really tried to make my father listen. I know Lord Igneel couldn’t have done any of the things they’re saying. I would have stopped it if I could have!”

The words hung in the air between them. Natsu stared at her, his breathing harsh and uneven. Without his draconic magic able to flow through him, stopped by the enchanted chains around him, there were no scales visible on his skin—just pale, tear-stained cheeks and hollow eyes.

“He was all the family I had left,” Natsu whispered, and the fight seemed to drain out of him all at once. He sank to his knees, the chains pulling taut. “He said he was always gonna be there. And now...” His voice broke completely.

Lucy pressed herself harder against the bars, stretching her arm through as far as she could reach. “Natsu...”

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, not looking at her. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I know it’s not your fault. I know you didn’t want any of this to happen. I just—I don’t know what to do with all this anger and I—”

“It’s okay,” Lucy said softly. “I understand.” She stretched her fingers toward him.

Slowly, carefully, Natsu shifted closer until he could just barely touch her fingertips with his own. The contact was brief, limited by the bars and chains, but it was enough. Lucy wanted to unlock the door and probably the chains to free him, knowing she could probably do it, but she also imagined it would only make things even worse.

“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked in a small voice.

Lucy shook her head. She didn’t know – hadn’t been able to get a straight answer from anyone, the guards staying tight-lipped. But she wouldn’t lie to him. “I know they want to ask you things, but I don’t really know. But I promise you this—I won’t leave you alone down here. I’ll come see you every day. I’ll make sure they let me.”

Natsu’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time they weren’t born of anger. “Why? Why would you do that for me?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Lucy said simply. “And friends don’t abandon each other, no matter what.”

In the flickering lantern light, she saw him nod slowly, clinging to that promise like a lifeline in the darkness of his grief.

One of the guards suddenly spoke up from behind her. “That’s enough.”

“No, I’ve barely been here and—” Lucy began protesting, never letting her eyes leave Natsu.

“King’s orders – you were given a few minutes and princess or not, you have to leave now,” the guard replied without sympathy. Lucy didn’t recognise them. They must have been some of the new hires who appeared in the palace not long ago.

“It’s okay,” Natsu said quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lucy lingered on him for a few more moments before the guard spoke up again, at which point she whirled around and glared at him. “Fine.”

“Tomorrow,” Lucy said quietly back to Natsu as she reluctantly walked away, one of the guards ready to escort her. She knew she absolutely would be back; she kept her promises after all.

Lucy did exactly that. It wasn’t difficult as the whole palace was now thrown into chaos. Her lessons were suspended, servants that been serving their family for decades were suddenly dismissed and her father was absent from her life as he tried to bring back control to his weakened hierarchy. She was simply allowed to continue visiting, no one seeing the harm in it.

Spetto did her best to reassure her that things would repair themselves soon – that her father was working hard to restore order and Natsu would likely be released soon, although Lucy could tell that Spetto was merely guessing and she didn’t have access to the king unless he asked specifically for her which seemed unlikely.

Each day in the dungeons, Natsu greeted her with fondness and she talked as much as she could about anything. She didn’t know if he had other visitors but she could tell he was growing lonelier. Not only that, but someone like him shouldn’t be caged and certainly not in such a forsaken place.

He explained that he was being asked about his father, but he had nothing to tell them, and Lucy knew he wasn’t lying. But yet, he had to stay there in those dungeons unfairly.

After a few days, she noticed a change in Natsu. He looked more tired and the chains around seemed to have been adjusted to his size, almost now looking too tight for his wrists. She didn’t even see the need for it, the cell he was in was old but looked sturdy enough for prisoners, even the ones that could conjure flames.

“Why are his chains tightened?” Lucy asked the guards, regal authority coming through although the guards didn’t truly acknowledge it.

“Security,” one of the guards grunted at her in amusement.

She turned back to Natsu who held a look of resentment, but not for her.

“What’s happened?” Lucy whispered.

“Nothin’,” Natsu replied quietly. “They’re just scared of fire.”

Lucy scoffed in amusement, looking over at the two guards again, casually watching her and muttering something between themselves.

She wanted to march straight to her father and demand he remove them from service for being afraid of a boy who could merely conjure a little bit of fire while they stood tall in their chain mail and spears.

But she knew he wouldn’t listen even if she could approach him freely, he being too busy deep in conversation with the remaining lords to pay her any mind while he supposedly tried to fix ‘Lord Dragneel’s mess’. She would try to speak with him nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy whispered.

“Stop saying that, you didn’t do any of this,” Natsu said and she could hear the annoyance in his voice. She couldn’t help it; she hated the situation her dad had placed him in.

“I know, but still,” Lucy replied sadly. “I tried to bring you some food from the kitchen but they wouldn’t let me.”

She could hear Natsu’s stomach grumble at the mention. “Don’t worry about it.”

She didn’t know why he was putting on a strong act. Perhaps he had to keep himself going in the horrible cell.

An idea occurred to Lucy of what to talk to him about. So far she’d been talking quietly about everything that was going on in the palace so the guards wouldn’t pay too much attention to them, but she was starting to think that wasn’t what Natsu needed right now.

“I’m walking in a forest,” she said slowly, causing Natsu to cock his head over at her in confusion. “… and then there’s two nasty bandits in chain mail ahead of me, and they want to steal all of my jewels I’m carrying!”

It took Natsu a moment, but his face shifted to a slight smile as he caught on to her silly game. “I see what’s happening and run out, shooting fireballs at them!”

Lucy giggled. “They run away scared, so I shout at them for being such terrible bandits!”

“I chase after them to make sure they learn a lesson about not threatening people like that!” Natsu was smiling more now, his eyes darting between the guards and her.

It was stupid, childish, and they both knew they were getting too old to be playing an imaginary game like this, but Lucy noticed it seemed to bring Natsu back to an easier time in his life, without all the loss he was now carrying.

“The fire catches onto their armour and boots! They’re panicking now!” Lucy replied excitedly.

“Not just their armour, their asses caught fire too!” Natsu said with some humour in his voice.

Lucy found the notion funny, although their raised voices caught the guards' attention.

“Hey – what are you talking about?” The stockier one asked, stepping forward suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Lucy replied in a sing-song voice, although it only seemed to irritate him.

The guard gestured towards her, indicating to her that she should step away from the cell. “Well, ‘nothing’ has cut your time short, princess. Time to leave.”

“I’m the princess, you can’t do that,” Lucy tried insisting with royal flair.

“Like I give a shit, leave.”

Lucy’s mouth dropped at the sudden use of foul language, recognising it from overhearing the guards during their practice in the training yard, to her of people. The audacity that a guard would speak like that. Her father would have never hired him, he had always spoken with every prospective palace guard. Someone else must have without the king’s vetting. “I’ll inform my father—”

The guards started laughing. “Whatever, princess, now leave already. You can come back tomorrow and we’ll see if you want to keep playing your silly games then.”

Lucy looked back at Natsu apologetically. He shrugged, a smile still on his face. “We’ll just have to be quieter next time, Lucy.”

Lucy nodded and once again, reluctantly left.

After a week had passed, she was trying to entertain herself in the palace in-between her visits to Natsu, having spent what time she could in the solar, staring at all of the shared plans for adventure and dreaming of it coming true as well as more growing more desperate for it with how much stranger the atmosphere in the palace grew.

Her lessons still haven’t resumed and she hadn’t seen Aquarius since that night. She was shooed away from seeing her father whenever she saw him, always surrounded by lords – some new, some not so and the ones she recognised just happened to be the ones she didn’t like very much.

She noted that Gray and Lisanna’s fathers weren’t there among them and she hoped that they were doing just fine and not involved in the rebellion that had supposedly happened while she sheltered with her tutor.

She gazed at her fingers, wondering if there was a way she could break Natsu out of that awful cell without the guards seeing and maybe she could hide him in that very room until her father calmed down and saw sense. But it didn’t seem plausible. The few glimpses she saw of her father had him looking sterner and even more serious than he already was.

Then she remembered a particular secret passage from years ago, where she and her friends all sneaked down to listen to her father’s outburst in his private room with the plush leather chairs and cigars in his desk – and she realised that’s where he was right now, behind closed doors with guards that would tell her to leave if she came anywhere close and whatever conversations going on within would remain secret, even from the crown princess.

But they didn’t know about or expect her to use the small hidden passage behind the tapestry.

She made her way there, careful to look inconspicuous until she finally reached the tapestry Natsu had pulled back in what felt like an age ago now. The passage was still there, undetected, small and unassuming and she made her way through it until she reached the same wall she had done before.

Lucy’s hands trembled as she pressed herself against the cold stone wall. The heavy stone bricks muffled the voices on the other side, but she could still make out Lord Byron’s gravelly tone.

“—So that takes care of that. Lord Yajima will lose in position, along with others.”

“Good. I can’t be dealing with any more treachery. Shall we discuss our next issue? The boy?” Her father’s voice replied, strained with exhaustion.

“It’s of my opinion that it’s too dangerous to leave the boy alive, Your Majesty. Draconic blood runs strong, and he’ll only grow more powerful with age.”

“He’s not even thirteen years old,” her father’s voice replied with distinct discomfort. “Barely more than a child.”

“A child who could burn down half the city when he comes of age,” another voice interjected—Lord Darton’s. “His father nearly succeeded in his rebellion. Do we really want to risk the son finishing what he started?”

Lucy’s heart hammered against her ribs. The lords were talking about Natsu. About killing him.

“We could end their traitorous bloodline here,” Lord Byron continued, his voice turning softer. “It’s the only way to ensure this rebellion dies with Lord Dragneel and we remove any further threats from those with dragon ancestry in them too. Execute the boy. Be done with it and the kingdom can finally heal.”

Lucy found herself frowning alongside the fear in her heart for Natsu. Lord Byron was pleading with her father in a way to make him seem like this would be a favour to the kingdom and if there was one thing her father put above everything else – it was duty to the kingdom. The fact that Lord Byron saw Natsu – her loyal friend – as a threat was pathetic in her mind.

“I can’t do that,” her father finally replied, although it lacked any conviction that she expected him to have. “Lucy considers him a dear friend and I couldn’t do that to her.”

Lucy’s disappointment and disdain for him after Natsu’s treatment faltered, a warmth in her heart spread as she realised that he was still thinking of her, even with the enforced distance. Perhaps she had been wrong about him; her father was still some semblance of himself after all. Natsu was safe for now.

“She’s still a child who can make other friends – more suitable friends even!” Another voice insisted – Lord Crawford she believed. He was once mayor, turned lord and had interests in money as far as Lucy knew. “Many of the remaining lords have children who would be more than happy to befriend the princess.” She frowned again at his attempts to sway her father.

“All these changes around here are probably hard enough on her as it is, so I don’t agree to—”

To Lucy’s surprise, Lord Byron cut in, daring to interrupt the king. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, you must cast your daughter’s feelings aside for the good of the kingdom. You keep the boy – then what? He either stays in the dungeon forever, or you perhaps you release him – he grows up resentful. He grows stronger like Igneel. He may continue what his father started and—” He stopped himself talking, as he took a deep breath, as if he were to offer the final piece that would allow him to have his way. “He would use your innocent daughter against you.”

Lucy shook her head, not believing the vitriol coming from Lord Byron. He sounded so convinced of himself, like he knew how Natsu thought and behaved and it was all wrong. All of it. He would never.

There was a long silence and Lucy’s temporarily bolstered faith in her father began to wane. She held her breath, praying her father would refuse such a ridiculous notion and would remember that Natsu was still her friend, that he’d played in these very halls, that he was not going to become what Lord Byron said he would.

“… Very well,” the king said finally, his voice heavy with reluctance. “Schedule it for tomorrow at dawn. Keep it from the public and make it quick—the boy doesn’t deserve to suffer for his father’s crimes. Make sure that Lucy doesn’t see or know.”

“Excellent decision, Your Majesty. My understanding is that those with draconic blood in their veins are—”

Lucy didn’t wait to hear more. She turned and ran, her soft-soled shoes silent on the stone floors as she raced through corridors she knew by heart. Down the main stairs, through the servants’ passage, down the winding steps to the dungeons.

She wanted to cry at her father’s betrayal, that he would even let himself be swayed in that manner. She felt that surely, as king, he would have better sense than to listen to people who had never even met Natsu.

She could hear the same two guards further down the stairs, laughing about something. They were never down there with Natsu, always at the top barring entry.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, panting lightly from all the desperate running. The same two guards were there, but sitting down at an old wooden table that hadn’t been there previously, their attention was focused on a dice game between them. The one that usually spoke to her, demanding her to leave most days—a stocky man with cruel eyes—looked up as she approached.

“Princess? You’re not supposed to be down here yet.”

“I need to see the prisoner,” Lucy said, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Official royal business.”

The guard exchanged a look with his companion. He looked nervous at the prospect of her being there, like she had walked into something she wasn’t supposed to see. “We’ve not received such an order that allows you to visit sooner.”

“The king is my father and I have his permission,” Lucy lied with all the authority she could muster. “Stand aside.”

The stockier man looked at her suspiciously and she felt as if he were going to order her away again; her mind already racing to come up with a new plan.

Then his companion nudged him. “Let her through – it’s not like she can do anything anyway,” he shrugged and shot her a cruel smirk. A way of letting her know that they were truly in charge down here and she was but a mere child.

Lucy didn’t offer a thank you. She walked past them and headed straight for Natsu’s cell at the end. She approached the bars to find Natsu huddled in the corner, a fresh bruise darkening his cheek that hadn’t been there during her visit the previous day. She didn’t know how he’d got that, but she suspected it was the guards behind her without a doubt.

“Lucy?” He looked up in surprise. “You’re here already?”

She glanced back at the guards, who had returned to their game but were still within earshot. Moving close to the bars, she whispered urgently, “We need to get you out of here. Now.”

“What? Why?” Natsu scrambled to his feet, confusion clear on his face.

Lucy didn’t wait to explain and pressed her finger to the lock. Magic flowed through her, and she felt the tumblers shift and click. She felt relieved knowing that it wasn’t magically enchanted to stop her – then again, nobody would have guessed she would do this.

"Because they're going to kill you tomorrow," she whispered as the cell door swung open with a soft creak and she quickly stepped inside to get to work before the guards noticed at any moment now.

Natsu's eyes went wide, his face draining of colour. "What?"

"I heard them. My father and the lords—they've scheduled your execution for dawn." Lucy's voice cracked as she knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she reached for the first shackle. "They're afraid of what you might become."

She moved straight to the cuff and chain on Natsu’s right wrist, finding the lock and channelling her magic again. They were made of a special metal, sealstone, to prevent prisoners from using magic, but nothing seemed to bar her from using magic on the lock itself which was just plain steel.

It fell away, landing on the stone floor with a clank and despite having her back turned, she knew the guards would have heard. Natsu’s eyes went wide as he flexed his wrist and Lucy quickly moved to the other side. She swore she could hear Natsu breathing more rapidly – the knowledge of his impending death likely getting his adrenaline going. She knew he would need it.

“Hey! What do you think you’re—”

The stocky guard with cruel eyes reached for his spear, abandoning the dice game and was already halfway towards them when Natsu’s hands erupted in flames. Red scales shimmered to life along his arms and shoulders, exposed to the world thanks to his torn shirt.

“Stay back!” Natsu roared, stepping protectively in front of Lucy. The fire from his hands erupted further, creating a wall of fire that blazed between them and the guards, forcing both men to stumble backwards.

“Fucking dragon spawn!” the second guard spat, drawing his own weapon. “We should have ignored orders and put you down the moment we could!”

“You bastards!” Natsu snarled, his flames growing hotter and brighter, and Lucy grew wary of Natsu’s magic as his anger unleashed itself. “All week—kicking me, spitting in my food, saying stuff about my dad—”

“Because it’s true!” the cruel-eyed guard sneered, even as sweat beaded on his forehead from the heat. “That traitor’s blood runs in your veins, boy.”

Natsu’s rage exploded outward. Fire roared from his hands in twin streams, forcing both guards to dive for cover behind the stone pillars near the stairwell. The flames licked at their hiding spots, and Lucy could smell singed leather and hair as she gasped in shock at the power Natsu was wielding. She’d only seen small flames before, nothing like this, never unbridled fury.

“Don’t talk about my dad!” Natsu’s voice cracked with grief and fury. “He was—he wasn’t a traitor! You’re lying! I’ll burn you all to ash!”

“Natsu! Stop!” Lucy grabbed his arm, feeling the heat radiating from his scales through her palm. “We have to go! More guards will come!”

The stocky guard suddenly left the safety of the pillar and made a lunge toward them, his eyes focused towards Lucy, but Natsu whirled and sent a concentrated blast of fire at his feet. The man yelped and jumped back, his leather boots smoking.

“Don’t touch her!” Natsu warned, instinctively seeming to know what the guard’s plan was, his eyes dark with warning. “Stay the hell away from us!” There was something fierce and desperate in the way he stepped protectively in front of Lucy, something that made her chest feel warm even in the midst of their escape.

“This isn’t over, dragon spawn!” the other guard shouted as Lucy stepped ahead and finally managed to pull Natsu away from the confrontation. “We’ll hunt you down like the monster you are!”

“Let them try,” Natsu growled, but he allowed Lucy to lead him away, his flames gradually dying down though his scales remained visible, pulsing with residual magic and emotion.

They ran past them, Lucy leading them up the winding stairs and back toward the main palace. Behind them, shouts echoed as the guards raised the alarm.

“Where are we going?” Natsu panted, his usage of magic that powerfully taking its toll on his young body.

“The passage we found a long time ago. Remember? The one that I didn’t want to go through on the upper floors?”

“But we never explored it!” Natsu answered between breaths.

“I know, but it might be your only way out!” Lucy insisted, gripping her hand around his tighter.

Lucy’s heart pounded as they headed for more stairs that climbed higher into the palace levels, the sounds of pursuit growing closer as more footsteps could be heard in the corridors. The shouts across the palace grew stronger.

“The princess is helping the prisoner escape!”

They had to hurry faster as soon as the guards would be converging from all directions.

They reached the corridor that was a dead end, just as torchlight flickered at the far end of the corridor. The stone wall awaited them and Natsu was quick to find the same stone that he had a long time ago, seemingly having remembered its exact location. The concealed entrance swung open, revealing the narrow tunnel that was just as grimy and wet-looking as before.

In between pants, staring at the tunnel, the guards shouting not far behind them, it all hit Lucy at once. Natsu would have to leave her for good to stand a chance. This… was their goodbye.

“Lucy,” Natsu stopped at the threshold as if he too realised the same thing and caught her hand. “Come with me.”

“I can’t.” Tears she’d been holding back since they started running finally spilled over, and saying goodbye to him felt like losing a piece of herself she didn’t know how to name. “If I go, they’ll hunt you down forever. They’ll send armies after us because I’m the princess. But if I stay...”

“They’re hunting me anyway so what does it matter,” he said fiercely, his grip tightening on her hand. “And you’re going to get in so much trouble for helping me.”

“I don’t care about that! I couldn’t let them kill you!” She squeezed his hand back. “Please, you have to go, Natsu. Without me, you stand a chance! Run as far as you can and don’t look back.”

Natsu hesitated as the shouts grew closer. Lucy could only shake her head gently as tears continued to spill. She pulled her hand away from his reluctantly, making her choice – the most selfless choice she thought she’d ever made.

“I'm not leaving without—” he began to say before Lucy cut in.

“You have to! We don't have time, go!”

Taking a breath, disappointment etched on his face, Natsu turned to the tunnel before turning back to her again, his expression more determined than ever.

“I will come back for you,” he said fiercely, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I promise, Lucy. When I’m strong enough, when I can protect you, I’ll come back and we’ll have those adventures we always talked about.”

The sound of pursuit was growing closer—boots on stone, shouts echoing through the corridors. “I’ll be waiting,” she whispered.

Natsu pulled her into a fierce embrace, and Lucy buried her face in his scarf—the one clean thing in this nightmare. She felt his tears against her hair, felt the way he held her like she was something precious he couldn't bear to lose. “I won’t forget you. I’ll never forget you.”

The shouts were getting closer. Lucy forced herself to step back, to push him gently toward the tunnel's mouth. "Go. Please. Before they find us."

Natsu nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“And I promise—”

Lucy didn’t give him the chance to finish, too desperate to get him out of there before the guards caught up. “I promise too! Now go!”

He disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. Lucy stood there for a long moment, her heart aching in a way she’d never felt before, listening to his footsteps fade away, before rushing to close the hidden door and turning around, ready for the punishment that inevitably would come.

The hidden door clicked and moments later, a trio of guards rounded the corner, weapons drawn and confusion across their faces when they realised it was her alone.

“Where’s the prisoner?” One asked, gently at first, before repeating himself when she didn’t answer, harsher this time.

When she still didn’t reply, the stocky guard from earlier came around the corner, no doubt he was too large to keep up with the younger, more athletic guards.

“Where is the prisoner, girl?” he asked harshly, not bothering with formalities of addressing her properly.

“Gone.” Lucy’s reply was short and stubborn and she wasn’t willing to give more of an answer than that.

She could see the guards looking around as if they were trying to figure out where Natsu was hiding, but they were clearly drawing a blank.

“They must have split up – check the other corridors!” One of them yelled. Two more of them charged off, but the stocky guard approached Lucy with determined footsteps.

“You are going to answer to your father.” His voice was firm and despite previous orders from the guards to never manhandle the princess, this guard didn’t follow it in the slightest, grabbing her roughly around her upper arm and almost dragging her away, most likely to the throne room.

It hurt and Lucy protested, but he ignored her. She could tell he was angry, more than he should rationally be about Natsu’s escape.

“What’s your name and rank?” Lucy demanded as he dragged her, determined to flex her authority once more.

“It’s Zash Caine, princess – a royal guard loyal to the crown, unlike you apparently,” he spat. “And I don’t care about telling you that because my job here is safe, no matter what you think you can do.”

Lucy suspected as much from his control of her time during the prison visits. But none of that mattered now. She had saved her best friend’s life. Whatever came next, it would be worth it.

Lucy stood before her father on the throne, her arm aching from Zash’s rough treatment and she was sure it would bruise. However, she was more concerned about the way her father was looking at her as Zash explained what Lucy did and to her relief, he explained that they hadn’t caught Natsu. He didn’t even mention the passage and she knew it would take them a while to figure it out if they decided to inspect that wall – the stone to activate the door was small, but perfect for a child’s hand to find and press.

Her father took a deep breath before standing up and she swore she saw a similar rage again, like when he explained to her before about Lord Igneel the first time.

“So now my own daughter would betray me?” he asked, although it sounded rhetorical.

Lucy shook her head regardless. “No father, I was saving my friend’s life.”

“SILENCE!” The king’s voice echoed through the throne room, causing Lucy to flinch. She had never heard him speak to her with such fury, and the sound of it made her stomach twist with dread.

“You have embarrassed me, Lucy. Embarrassed the crown. Embarrassed everything I have worked to build.” His voice was cold now, controlled in a way that somehow felt worse than his shouting. “And it’s clear to me that your education has been sorely lacking.”

Lucy’s heart sank as she realised what was coming.

“Aquarius has clearly failed in her duties as your tutor. She has filled your head with notions of friendship and loyalty that supersede duty to the crown. She has allowed you to believe that your personal feelings matter more than the security of the kingdom.” The king’s eyes were hard as steel. “She will be dismissed immediately and replaced with someone who understands the importance of proper royal behaviour.”

“No!” Lucy gasped, her composure finally cracking. “Father, please, Aquarius isn’t—”

“I said silence!” He stood from his throne, towering over her. “You will address me as Your Majesty until you learn to conduct yourself as a princess should. And since you seem incapable of understanding your station, perhaps some time to reflect will help.”

Lucy’s blood ran cold at his tone.

“You will be moved to new chambers in the north tower, where you will remain until I decide you have learned proper respect for authority. The room will be sealed with magic—you will not be able to leave whenever you please, as you have clearly demonstrated you cannot be trusted with freedom.”

“You’re going to lock me up?” Lucy’s voice came out as barely a whisper. “Like... like a prisoner?”

“Like a princess who needs to learn discipline,” he corrected sharply. “And since it’s clear that all those books of yours—those ridiculous fairy tales and stories of adventure have filled your head with romantic notions about defying authority and playing hero, they will be removed as well.”

Lucy felt as if the ground had dropped out from beneath her. “My books? But father, I—”

“Your Majesty,” he corrected coldly. “And yes, your books. Perhaps without such distractions, you’ll have time to contemplate the gravity of what you’ve done.”

“I saved his life!” Lucy protested, tears streaming down her face now. “I found out what you were going to do! Natsu is my friend, he’s not dangerous, he’s—”

“He has dragon’s magic in him, Lucy!” The king’s voice cracked like a whip. “He potentially has the power of those awful extinct dragons that have the power to burn down cities! And now, thanks to your reckless actions, he’s loose in the world with every reason to hate this kingdom and everyone in it!”

Lucy shook her head desperately. “He’s not like that! He would never—”

“He would never what? Seek revenge for his father’s death? Come back to destroy the kingdom that killed the only family he had left?” The king began pacing, his voice rising with each word. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? He could kill me or you!”

“Natsu wouldn’t do that!” Lucy cried, realising that her father was echoing what those lords were telling him, knowing he was wrong about it all. “He’s not a monster!”

“Isn’t he?” The king whirled on her. “His father was a traitor whom I dearly trusted, who nearly succeeded in overthrowing the crown! Those with his bloodline run hot, Lucy, hotter than normal men. It breeds rage, and vengeance, and destruction. And now that boy is out there, and he’s going to grow stronger every day, nursing his hatred for us!”

“You’re wrong about him,” Lucy said, her voice shaking with emotion. “You’re wrong about everything!”

Her father’s face darkened further. “Am I? Explain to me why he used his fire magic to attack royal guards when you unlocked his cell? Explain to me why he threatened to burn them alive!”

“He was defending himself!” Lucy said desperately. “The guards were cruel to him—they kicked him, they spat in his food, they said horrible things about Lord Igneel! They were taunting him and hurting him!”

The king’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it grew harder. “And you believe that? You believe the word of a violent child over my own guards?”

“It’s true! I saw the bruises on his face! They were—”

“Of course he told you they were cruel to him,” the king interrupted coldly. “Of course he painted himself as the victim. That’s exactly what I’d expect from someone trying to trick you into helping him escape.”

“He wasn’t tricking me!” Lucy protested. “I saw them taunt him with my own eyes! I chose to free him; he didn’t ask!”

“Have you really grown up this naive?” The king laughed bitterly. “Lucy, you’ve been blinded by childish sentiment. You’ve risked everything—the kingdom, the crown, countless innocent lives, all for a boy who has already shown he’s willing to use violence to get what he wants.”

“He’s not violent!” Lucy protested. “He’s hurt and scared and—”

“And dangerous!” The king slammed his fist on the arm of his throne.

The words hit Lucy painfully. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. Her father wasn’t listening, and he had all these new, horrid ideas about Natsu’s magic, and Lucy wasn’t sure how to make him stop thinking of it that way. “He won’t hurt anyone,” Lucy said quietly, her voice shaking. “He’s not the monster you think he is.”

“He’s dragon spawn, Lucy.” Lucy swiftly recognised that the words were the very same that Zash had used earlier. She’d never heard her father use that word before to describe Natsu or his dad. The sudden distrust of Natsu’s bloodline made sense suddenly – he was believing those horrid whispers people made about them. The painful revelation that her father was listening to those who irrationally hated the Dragneels cut deeply, knowing that he would never welcome Natsu back while he shared those sentiments.

“Those with draconic magic in their veins are not friends to the rest of us, Lucy. They use us, they manipulate us, and when they’re done with us, they discard us, just as Lord Dragneel did.” The king’s voice was final, the hurt and betrayal still present from the week prior. “The sooner you learn that lesson in your new chambers, the better prepared you’ll be for the harsh realities of ruling this kingdom.”

Lucy felt something break inside her chest. Looking at her father now, she barely recognised the man. This stranger, wearing the crown, spoke of her dearest friend as if he were a monster, and nothing she said would change his mind.

“I won’t let you lock me away,” she said quietly, but with as much dignity as she could muster. “I’m not a prisoner.”

“You will be what I say you are,” the king replied. “And you will learn to be grateful for the protection these castle walls provide. You’ll regain some of your freedom once you can prove to me you’re ready to be a princess again.”

As the guards stepped forward to escort her to her new prison, Lucy held her head high. She had saved Natsu’s life, and no matter what punishment awaited her, she would never regret that choice. Even if it meant losing everything else she held dear.