To Lucy's bewilderment, it hadn't been the docks of New York, the bustling streets of Chicago, or the open train ride across the west that had made the euphoria of America's freedom burst through her veins; it was the rolling wind across the expanding plain rushing across her cheeks as Natsu pulled her to the village that sent her heart soaring.

"English. Lucy," he repeated happily here and there, finally passing the poles of the first tipi and tugging her off to the structure at the far end of the camp. The tipi was white and yellow against the tan of the canvas, the old, white-haired man that had been telling stories peacefully sitting outside of the tipi with Mira and the yellow-haired, scarred man. The stop before him was abrupt, causing Lucy to squeak and scuff up dust beside Natsu, who waved excitedly.

"Woman is Lucy!" Natsu said in attempt to introduce her. "Lucy my speak English."

The man let out a good-natured laugh, shaking his head and saying a few foreign words of which Lucy could only make out "silly boy". Lucy looked between them, unsure of the greeting she was supposed to give, especially to such an inadequate introduction. Bow? Curtsey? Do some kind of tribal symbol?

But the man stood, and she fully realized just how short he was; the old man barely reached her stomach. She had no idea a person, much less an Indian, could be so tiny. Seeming to have understood Natsu's garbled try at English, he said in a more knowledgeable language, "Hello, Lucy. I am Chief Makarov of Faetaye. You are welcome here. We thank you for help to warriors."

"Hello, Chief Makarov," she said hesitantly, deciding on a small and awkward bow. "Er, I thank you for a kind welcome and care. I was happy to help."

It looked as if he understood, and he smiled in a gentle way as Mira had. "We will find friend. You teach Natsu English?"

"I thought it would be a good idea," she said quickly, forgetting that he might not understand.

But he kept up. "Good. It is good. Natsu too lazy before. Is good for him to learn. Thank you for help."

Natsu was still beaming, having gotten over being called silly, and Lucy giggled a bit at how he didn't realize that he was being continuously picked on. "It is no trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you, Chief Makarov."

Lucy smiled widely as she gave a courtesy, because they seemed to accept the expressions of her culture. Though it didn't look like he completely understood what she'd said, he looked to have gotten the jist, nodding to her cheerfully. "You know Mirajane? Grandson Laxus?"

"I have met Mirajane," Lucy told him. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting your grandson."

The man with the scar merely inclined his head to her, muttering something in his language that she couldn't make out. Lucy decided to take it as a greeting and gave an uncertain smile in return.

"Lucy, Lucy, Lucy!" Natsu urged, apparently impatient. "English."

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Lucy sighed to him, still rather amused. "I need to get my book first."

Obviously he didn't understand a word of her response, made evident when she bid farewell to the chief and made her way back to the women's tipi. He followed her, hands moving imploringly. "Lucy! English speak."

Lucy decided to ignore him, leaving him outside of the tipi to dig through her sack for the book. It was bound together with tight string knots, ink handwriting within flourished and easily legible. Levy had written notes in the margins that her mother had left, and even seeing her handwriting sent an ache to her chest. Oh, how afraid Levy must be; Lucy could only pray that they wouldn't hurt her, that they'd leave her be until they had time to rescue her. Luckily, the one quote from Shakespeare that had always reminded her of Levy provided some comfort: "Though she be but little, she is fierce."

When she returned to Natsu, he was bouncing on his heels and tapping his fingers. "English, Lucy."

With a roll of her eyes, she led him off to the side of the river, where it was peaceful and quiet compared to the small bustle of the tiny village. There, she tried to sit in the new dress, eventually putting her legs off to one side and letting the fringes flutter in the breeze as they dangled at her knees. While she still hadn't gotten over the nerves of being left alone with a man, Natsu seemed far more invested in playing with his horse than an English man would be when sitting alone with a young lady. Natsu plopped right down on his stomach, eyes wide at her eagerly as if she was about to magic a language into his head.

"Er…" Lucy began awkwardly, tapping the book against her palm. "Well, we should probably start with 'Hello'."

His big eyes blinked in the most innocent way. "Well, we should probably start with 'Hello'," Natsu recited clumsily.

She let out a laugh. "No! No, no…"

"No, no, no-"

With a groan, she flipped open the book and searched quickly for the equivalent to 'no'. When she founded, she read it out loud, and he instantly stopped, confused.

They started with "hello". From there, she picked a blade of grass, telling him the word and showing it to him. Each new word seemed to fascinate him, rolling inelegantly from his mouth. Natsu did try, but also did get distracted by the occasional passing butterfly. If she was not occupying him with a new word or phrase every moment, he was fiddling with the claw about his neck, giggling about his horse nosing him in the head, or happily watching the expansive sky.

After a while, she paused to look upward with him, perhaps hoping to see what was so interesting. It was the same sky as everywhere else… But the sun seemed to shine more gently than before, the wind picking up the smell of the river and peace over the village. Struck yet again with the surrounding hills and the gold that gleamed from them, Lucy flipped through the pages to find one last word before they finished.

"Wasté," Lucy read off, catching his attention. She stared off across the land, spreading out her hand to indicate the freedom bursting from every piece of sky. She translated, "Beautiful."

When gaze fell back to him, he was staring back, more focused than before. "Bea-u-ti-ful," Natsu repeated, his eyes not leaving hers for a long, long time.

Pretending to be betrothed to Gajeel was reaching the end of Levy's patience.

She'd escaped from England not only for adventure, but to avoid the overpowering patriarchy. Here, she'd dived into condescending world of confusion. Firstly, she wasn't to speak unless spoken to, expected to do everything Gajeel asked without question and attend to all chores while he practiced fighting with the other men. It was absolutely degrading, and though Juvia helped and assured her that the Faetaye would rescue them, Levy could barely stand it.

Not only was her role of his slave humiliating, but Gajeel was so. Bloody. Annoying. She'd been prepared for possible cruelty or awkwardness, but not this insensitive teasing and lack of care for what he asked her to do. He might have shown some dedicated protection to her at first, but his kindness certainly didn't translate much further.

She was scraping some skins, the hide giving off a revolting scent in the scorching sun. Gajeel strolled up, a sheen of sweat across his chest from the heat and exercise. Levy tried to avoid looking at the corded muscle stretched under his tanned skin. He nonchalantly looked down at her, saying in Gilda, "I need some water."

"Looks like it," was her only response in his language (Lately, she'd spoken in it so much that she'd stopped dreaming and sometimes even thinking in English), scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of extra skin.

At this, he frowned. "Get me some water."

"Oh, pardon me, my love," she said in the most scathing tone she could conjure. "I was not aware that your legs were so weak that you were unable to get it yourself."

His face turned a satisfyingly scarlet color as he sputtered, "Woman!"

Perhaps she was taking slight advantage of how she knew he wouldn't hurt her, but perhaps he deserved to be taken for granted in return.

"I am very strong," he boasted, teeth gritted. "The strongest!"

A smile twitching on her lips, she said, knowing it would upset him the greatest, "I am not sure-that pink-haired boy from the other tribe looked much stronger to me."

She had not thought he could look more frustrated; he could. "That dog of a boy is no match for me!"

"It did not look like it when you were running away from him with his arrow in your shoulder," Levy further said.

"I was keeping him from taking you!" Gajeel protested. "Why do you insist on being so difficult?!"

"Because I would rather you have let him take me! With my friend and a tribe of kindness rather than this place!" she burst.

A wince of... hurt flickered across his face, leaving Levy surprised. Cheeks still flushed, he did not meet her eyes. "You are that unhappy here?"

She wasn't going to lie, and now that it was out, she couldn't stop. "Yes! I am treated like your slave rather than your betrothed! You are insufferable and the only person here I remotely like is Juvia! Now go get your own damn water and definitely a bath!"

A lady should never speak in such a way, especially to a man, she knew, but neither was she considered a proper lady any longer.

Gajeel only seemed to be able to stare at her for several long moments that made her feel ever the more awkward and slightly guilty. And rather scared; perhaps she'd gone too far this time. Perhaps his insistence not to hurt her had reached its last straw... But he only turned, face still carved in a feelingless stone, and walked away.

"Figures," she muttered under her breath. "Just walk away. Do not say sorry or anything..."

Levy wiped some blood from the hide onto the grass, shaking excess from her bone scraper before raising it back up-

A small, clay bowl of water was set carefully beside her, and with a thump, so was Gajeel, drinking from a similar container nonchalantly while watching her. "You must be thirsty," he said. "Drink with me?"

Slowly, Levy reached for the water and curled her fingers around the cool clay. "Thank you," Levy said, still awed of this sudden generosity.

He did not acknowledge her thanks, but instead said, "This tribe used to be more like the Faetaye. Before Jose became chief. Many younger boys here do not remember this, but I do. Women were respected, and we all did our part. Perhaps I have forgotten more than I thought. I... I am... sorry."

Feeling a bit ashamed of her outburst, Levy murmured back, "It is alright. I am simply... frustrated. I am sorry too. You have not hurt me or let others do so, and I am grateful for this."

"Well you are my betrothed," Gajeel said, a mocking smirk winding up his face. "I cannot have other men touching you."

For some reason, she found her face growing hot. "We are not truly betrothed, as you well know. Why did you choose to take me, anyway?

The smirk only grew. "More portable."

Levy blinked, and though short jokes usually irked her to no end, she found herself laughing and clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. His smile morphed into a triumphant one, and he added in a reasonable voice, "I also do not like white people in the least, so the one with yellow hair was not an option."

At this, her laughter faded, and her eyes began to narrow. "I am half white, if you do remember."

His comment seemed to sink under her skin, sending cold seeping into her chest. This place was supposed to be more accepting than Europe-different from all the pureblooded English children who would sneer and call her a mutt, halfling, savage, and mistake.

Perhaps it only makes sense that I would not fit into either world, she mused bitterly.

"Well yes, but you were about as close to a decent woman as I would get. We can ignore the downside of your white blood," sighed Gajeel, draining his bowl and flopping down into the grass. "The rest are all murderers and disrespectful."

"Some of them could say the same of you," Levy quipped, water tasting suddenly sour. "And I would prefer, sir, that you would refrain from treating my treasured heritage, something very out of my own control, as if it is something that spoils me."

The lighthearted mood was crumbling, and she took that as her cue to stand and work elsewhere. Gajeel scrambled up beside her, arguing, "I did not mean it like that-"

"If you would also refrain from implying that I was simply the minorly better of two options rather than at least keeping me imprisoned because you may have taken a liking to a woman for once," she went on, pace quickening to where she knew Juvia was off weaving.

"Oh, is that it?" he said, tone mocking and higher. "Does Tiny have all her little feelings hurt because I do not fancy her?"

She spun to glower at him, hissing out, "Tiny simply thinks it was silly of her to consider that maybe you weren't as bigoted and uncaring as the rest, and maybe her being here actually meant something to someone rather than being a torturous waste of time."

And this time, when she stormed off, Gajeel did not follow.

HEYA LOVELIES!

I've really missed you guys! It's been sooo long because of stage crew and people issues and my new job. But I'm back now, even if the chapter is shorter than the last. But I guess I did mention before that there will be less chapters chapters and they would not be as long or often as TKOF. While you may think I owe you a longer chapter because of my hiatus, these five pages are really all the time I've had XD Anywho, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope to get back to writing some presents and Double Dad Dilemma!

A SPECIAL THANKS TO THE DEAR phantompierce-okamoto ON TUMBLR FOR SPARING HER TIME FOR DORK ME AND MY DUMB WRITER'S BLOCK! Phantom helped me get unstuck and I am very grateful. :) This chapter would not have come into being without her, so thank you so much again!

Thank you so much to all the fantastic reviews! Honestly, you guys are too good to me I don't deserve the overwhelming cuteness :3 You guys are what get me to keep this trucking on

Historical Note:

Eh, not too much new stuff here. Men and women all had their roles, like woman were in charge of taking down/packing up tipis, keeping the fire going, cooking, and creating clothes. They both thought each other valuable and loved the other gender for the roles they completed in their family. In my tribe, if a man disrespected a woman, he was instantly banished. That's what Gajeel was referring to with how his tribe used to be.

I'll try to get out more chapters soon; I needed to add a bit to start before I get more into the action. I may need some help with this story because I am determined to finish but I also have a lot of missing spaces that I didn't fill in in my head before I started it… After TKOF's plot holes I probably should have learned haha. Oh well.

Mizpah,

~LoneStorm