Chapter Text
Youth
Chapter One
Two figures raced through the alleyway. One a blonde girl, and the other a filthy, dark haired man. As the girl ran, several golden and silver keys jangled on her belt, the metallic sound ringing through the drum of pounding footsteps and strained, deep breaths.
“Please!” the girl screamed. Her magic energy was gone, and her side twinged sharply with a bad cramp. Her legs felt like wet clay. She couldn’t keep running much longer.
“You know what they’ll do to me!” she cried, skidding to a halt as the alleyway came to dead end. She spun around to face the man bolting after her. “You know what they do to mages!”
“I know how much they pay for ‘em!” he called, just a few strides away from grabbing her. In a panic, Lucy jumped up in an attempt to climb up one of the buildings. The stone was freezing and rough, but she managed to get her fingertips wedged into a crack. As she pulled herself up, resting her foot awkwardly in a narrow ledge, he caught up with her. He grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled.
Lucy toppled to the ground, landing on her back with a thud. Pain shot through her body, and she lay stunned for a moment, unable to breathe. Tears of pain and shock welled in her eyes.
Just as she began to move, the man clipped her wrists into handcuffs. He smiled as he flipped her onto her stomach in one cruel motion, and pinned her to the ground like a bug. Lucy let out an enraged shout, squirming with all her might to break free. He just laughed, pressing her face into a filthy puddle of water. Mud filled her (unfortunately) open mouth, and she gagged. She managed to tear her head free and spat the filth out of her mouth, but before she could take a breath, her face was shoved into the puddle again. She fought fiercely, her lungs burning for air. Just when she was sure she was about to pass out, he released her. She gasped in a much needed breath, then began to spit stray mud out of her mouth.
The man yanked her to her feet, and she yelped in surprise.
“Now, you can come nicely,” he warned. “Or you can pull more shenanigans. You’ll hang either way.”
A thick fog of dread began to form in Lucy’s gut at the thought. Horrific images of her body lying limp and discolored from a noose flashed through her mind. She whimpered softly, her eyes burning with tears. She merely nodded. She couldn’t show weakness now.
He grunted in response, and then shoved her forward. Mud covered her face, and she was sure she’d be almost unrecognizable. That was good, she thought. No one from the house has to know what’s happened. The thought of Spetto, or Aed seeing her like this made her insides squirm.
She knew they were headed to the prisons. And with a sudden avalanche of dread, she realized that she would be interrogated there. She was about to experience more pain than she’d felt in her entire life. The urge to fight boiled in her chest, but she knew it was worthless.
And so, with fear dominating her every thought and action, Lucy Heartfilia let herself be led to her grave.
---
Her scraped her knees and palms as she was roughly thrown onto the cobblestone flooring of a dingy cellar. The royal guard, a scruffy man with salt-pepper hair and the traditional guard’s uniform, stepped forward and hoisted the blonde’s wrists over her head. Lucy thrashed, but her depleted strength stood no match against the large man’s grasp.
Her arms were chained above her head. After the guard made sure they were secure, he promptly left, slamming the heavy steel door with little grace.
Tears burned in her eyes. Goosebumps tickled over her bare arms and shins. Her stomach twisted in disgust. The cellar was filthy, the freezing and rough stones on the walls caked with dirt and grime.
The frigid, rusted shackles keeping her hands up over her head creaked when she jerked against them. She thrashed for a few minutes until she slumped in exhaustion, her wrists starting to ache. The tears flowed freely, and the sounds of her gentle sobbing echoed off the cellar walls.
“Shut up in there!” a gruff voice cried through the heavy door. “Quit yer cryin’.”
Lucy sniffed noisily, struggling to stifle her sobs. She could remember when she felt this alone, but instead of a cold, wet dungeon, she was in a comfy, heated mansion where there were servants to wait on her hand and foot. And even with all those servants and toys, Lucy was alone. She was alone at home, and she was alone now. At least at home, she had a warm bed and decent meals.
She pictured herself getting a tray of stale bread-crumbs and a poor glass of lumpy milk. Her stomach churned even at the thought. Lucy’s stomach then growled, desperately crying for something more than just a few bread crumbs.
A sharp, rasping cough brought Lucy from her thoughts. The sound was curt, any echo fading away. That was weird, she thought, looking around at the darkened cellar.
“Hello?” Lucy whispered. Her faint echo was all that answered her. A slight pout formed on her lips at the lack of reply. Perhaps she had imagined it.
With defeat, Lucy slumped against the wall. Her arms began to feel numb and tingly, not to mention her face: a hot and sticky mess, tears mixing with mud. Lucy pulled at her arms in frustration.
Her actions stopped short when she heard it again. The person, whoever it was, now had fallen into a rather violent coughing fit. They sounded wet and strained. Lucy couldn’t help but to grimace at the sound. It made her stomach twist in a nauseated knot.
She decided to try again. “Hello? Are you alright?” Her voice was soft and weak, much more so than she thought it would be. “Hello?”
The coughing seized suddenly and Lucy could now hear soft, yet labored breathing. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sound. The silence made her want to squirm.
“It’s polite to answer people,” Lucy said, bitter. “Or at least announce your presence!”
Lucy had to squint, but she saw something shift in the close darkness. She tried to move closer to it, but the chains attached to her wrists had little to no slack.
Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of stern, but fearful onyx orbs. The blonde squirmed as their intense gaze bore into her own.
“I…” She began to stammer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but…” she paused pensively. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’re in the same boat here.”
She could now make out a dark, hunched figure creeping a bit closer. She uneasily smiled while her stomach did backflips.
The figure was male, this she could now tell. His face came into the small sliver of light the setting sun had to offer through the tiny barred window above their heads. Lucy’s smile relaxed.
He was younger than she was expecting, but his eyes were darker than anything she’d ever seen. His snowy pale face was bruised and a large gash on his forehead was hidden by his messy raven bangs.
“What’s your name?” She finally managed to pipe.
“...” The boy stayed silent.
Lucy felt let down, her gaze finally breaking away from his eyes. She skipped over his bare chest, which to her surprise was nicely toned. Lucy turned her focus on the metal, mitten-like covers on his hands.
“What are those?” Lucy tried again, craning her neck to try and get a better look as he shyly stowed his bound hands away under his knees. “You’re a mage, aren’t you?”
His head perked up, and Lucy’s heart raced with slight triumph. “I am too. I use celestial keys! My name is Lucy. Lucy Hear-” Her voice wavered. She paused for a few moments.
“I’m Lucy. Just Lucy,” she declared.
She anxiously awaited an answer, staring at the pale boy’s face. He squirmed, averting his gaze to look everywhere but at her.
“Gray. Just Gray.”