Okay, so I thought I'd offer a little sneak peek to see what the reception would look like on a project like this... so feedback on this, whether good or bad, would really, really be appreciated, you guys. Thank you all already for the attention you've given my other drabbles and such, there's no better feeling than knowing at least someone out there is enjoying my writing!3

So, without further ado, NaLu...

Prompt: If she was offered anything in exchange for betraying him, would she?

((sneak peek))

disclaimer: I own nothing

Every time she tried to wriggle free, the ropes only rubbed her bare arms the wrong way and cut deeper into the skin they constrained.

"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish," she sneered, swallowing hard and panting- completely out of breathe. Her chest heaved up and down, the too-tight restraints not allowing her to take the deep breathes she was desperately craving.

A figure in the shadows began to chuckle, the light reflecting off of his too-white teeth. She resists giving him the satisfaction of cowering back when his eyes gleam an icy blue.

"Why are you laughing?" She demanded, starting to feel claustrophobic from the ropes hugging her ribs too tight.

"Because, my dear Celestial maiden," she shivered when he then took a step forward and ran his nails, almost like talons, across a trail from her hairline to down under her chin, "this whole process could be so civil, but you're insisting on making it complicated."

She gasped when he suddenly struck her, a whimper escaping her now horribly split lip as he does a complete turn around and caresses her now red, raw cheek.

"All you have to do is tell me Salamander's whereabouts. That's it! Nothing more and nothing less about the little pyro." The man got a dangerous glint in his eyes while he smirked. "I know you separated with Titiana while the Dragon Slayer hurried away with my prize. I have my sources, you know, just as I'm sure you have your own. You must know where he's going."

"Your 'prize' is a living person, you sick freak!" Lucy shouted, angry tears collecting in her eyes at the sudden turn of events in the S-Class rescue mission they'd accepted.

"TELL ME WHERE THE DRAGON SLAYER IS!" He roared, yanking the girl by her hair. She shrieked, tears gathering in her eyes as she clenched them tight.

"No," she whimpered now, too tired to keep up the tough act. "You're asking me to betray my partner, my friend. Natsu is my nakama, and no matter what you do to me, I won't tell you what you want!"

The man simply tsked, sighing exasperatedly as he clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner. He stood straight now with his shoulders back as he ran two fingers down her arm. He was in the light now, and the flickering glow of the torches around him only made the intricate navy markings on his skin stand out even more.

I don't even know if he's human. The very idea that Lucy had no idea who, or what for that matter, she was dealing with didn't calm the girl's nerves.

"Poor girl," he mock-pouted, even sticking his lip out. "You have no idea the extent of my powers. It's a shame that idiot fire mage weakened me like he did in our fight earlier, or I would have gone after Erza. But no," he flicked one of her barrette's, "I only had the energy stored to go after the weak link."

Shivering at the man's touch, feeling filthy the blonde jerked away. "What do you mean?" She demanded, wondering what he had meant by not knowing the extent of his powers.

The man gently tilts the blonde's chin up, his eyes glowing a deep, hypnotic blue.

"Hush, child." He whispers, his voice husky and Lucy fought the urge to close her heavy lids. He brought his hand up her face, wispy blue flames flickering from his palms. "Allow yourself to succumb. You won't be disappointed." His grip on her chin tightens as she tried to yank away.

"Shame," he tuts once more, bringing his hand up. "Always want to make things complicated. And you had such a pretty face." He only chuckled, feeling no remorse at the sound of a large 'crack' as the he lands a large blow across her temple. The blonde's head falls to her chest; effectively knocked out cold.

Her last conscious thought was a plea that her friends would find her soon. She willed Natsu to hurry.

She shot straight up in bed, panting with the sheets drawn up close to her chest. Wincing at the bright light coming through her window, she shielded her eyes away as she fought to keep away the impending migraine that was making itself known.

"Ugh," she groaned, eyes clenched tight. "Where am I?" She struggled, trying to remember something, anything really, but was soon distracted by the feel of the too-soft sheets. "This isn't my bed," she mused softly to herself.

"Silk? I don't have silk sheets, and no one at the guild would have silk sheets." Rubbing her tired eyes, the blonde stretched her arms high over her head. She winced at the pins and needles feeling in her right hand, and shook it to try and get the blood flowing again.

Standing, she shivered as her bare feet came in contact with the cool, hardwood floors. Lucy frowned as she hurriedly hopped over to a large, white rug seeking refuge from the freezing boards.

"This sort of looks familiar." She cocked her head as her eyes drifted around the room, noting the similarities to her own room back in Magnolia. The pink, circular wallpaper was an almost exact copy even!

"Where am I?" She questioned for a second time since waking up, feeling her lips tremble as she tried desperately to think where Natsu and the others might be.

"No," she said aloud to the empty room, needing the comfort of a voice even if it was her own. "I'm not gonna cry. A member of Fairy Tail doesn't cry for themselves. They, we, are brave." She corrected her small blunder, and the mention of her guild was enough to settle her nerves for the moment.

There was a large, mahogany desk underneath the large window letting in the sunlight that was responsible for waking her up. Walking closer, Lucy noted the way it was littered with various scrap papers and ink pens.

"What a mess," she frowned, wrinkling her nose at the mess. Never one to snoop, Lucy decided to pass over the unorganized desk for the time being. Instead, she changed her course for the open door in the far corner of the room.

Dropping her hand to her waist, she sighed at the fact her whip was no longer in its usual holster. "Of course it isn't, you idiot." She chastised herself. "You just woke up, why would it be on you?" However, the girl did make a mental note to search the room later for it and her keys.

Peeking her head just barely into the open door frame, the regular fashionista in Lucy couldn't help it when her jaw hit the hardwood floor beneath her. "Woah," she gasped, her toes curling when they came in contact with the carpeted room. She blindly ran her hand along the wall, her fingers flipping on a light switch that illuminated the large, open space through a hanging chandelier.

The girl gave a low whistle, gazing around the room in wonder. "Best. Walk-in closet. Ever."

Before she was really able to explore the racks upon racks of different material, a voice from the other room suddenly appeared, calling for her.

Figuring it was one of her friends, the blonde, feeling relieved, called out, "Just a second, Erza! You should see this closet!"

"Erza?" The voice questioned, and Lucy frowned, but brushed it off. Now that she was really listening, the voice was too high and sing-song to belong to the redhead the girl had grown so close to.

"Miss Lucy," the voice continued, brushing off the name and coming closer. The girl's chest suddenly felt too tight, and she slowly turned her attention away from the dream closet. Her head was over her shoulder but she kept her gaze carefully trained on the door trim.

The last time she remembering being called Miss Lucy was when she returned home to talk to her father, but, but that wasn't right… This wasn't her room, and this definitely wasn't her closet.

But that didn't mean anything when the voice's owner appeared finally in the open doorway, and it didn't stop the gasp from leaving the blonde when she allowed her gaze to meet the kind, elderly face that was so familiar.

"M- Ms. Ceppetto?" Her voice was shaky to her own ears, and she had to grasp the sides of her nightgown (that she just now realized she was wearing) to keep her hands from shaking as well.

The woman cocked her head, eyeing the young girl uneasily. "Yes, dear. Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

She ignored the question, and instead asked one of her own. "What am I doing here?"

The old maid shifted her weight, wringing her hands. "Miss Lucy, did you have a bad dream? Where else would you be?"

"I would be home." The blonde mumbled softly, more so to herself. Instead, she ignores the question once again. "How did I get here?"

Ms. Ceppetto's worried frown only deepens. "You fell asleep here last night, dearie. Just like the night before that and the night before that. Shall I call the doctor? Are you feeling feverish?"

Before Lucy could answer the old woman was already rushing about the large closeted area, flittering among the racks and hurriedly picking out this and that before thrusting it all into the confused girl's arms. "Go ahead and change, Miss, while I run and make a house call. We can't have you getting sick, oh no no no!"

The always eccentric woman fled from the closet and then the actual bedroom itself, and Lucy found herself sighing as the maid's footsteps all but disappeared entirely further into the house.

Sinking down onto one of the leather ottomans placed in the center of the room, directly underneath the chandelier, Lucy put her face in her hands mindful of the expensive material in her lap.

"Natsu," she groaned, "where are you guys?"

Eventually deciding that just sitting and moping would get her no answers, Lucy gathered the strength to finally look at the clothes Ms. Ceppetto had selected.

And wrinkled her nose.

Tossing the pile aside, Lucy explored the racks herself.

"Out of this entire closet," she mused softly to herself, "there has to be something that I would wear." But, upon further inspection, it didn't appear so. "Alright," the blonde sighed, admitting defeat as the closet held nothing but ankle-length dresses and trousers. "Looks like I'll have to be Lucky Lucy Heartfilia for a little longer."

Lucy had just finished tying her hair back in a bun, feeling rather proud of the bow she had managed with a pink ribbon she had found in one of the closet's cubby holes, when Ms. Ceppetto came rushing back into the room.

"Morning, again." The blonde offered a smile as she struggled with the buttons on the back of the red two-toned, floor-length gown she had selected. After the woman had hurried off the first time, worried and rushing for a doctor that Lucy didn't even need, the girl had felt guilty. She'd never had anything against the maid, seeing as how she had taken better care of Lucy than her father ever had after her mother's passing.

Ms. Ceppetto eyed her wearily, stepping forward and brushing the girl's hand away from the dress. Her wrinkled hands swiftly conquered the stubborn, offending buttons. "Are you feeling better now, miss?"

"Yes, I think so." Lucy refrained from complaining about the slight headache she felt along her right temple, a leftover of the migraine that wouldn't go away. She didn't want to worry the woman even farther. She was getting up there in age, Ms. Ceppetto, so maybe she really did think Lucy still lived on the estate. As sad as it made the young girl that the woman's memory could be fading, maybe that's all it was. Maybe she forgot Lucy left at all.

However, that didn't explain what the blonde was doing back on the estate in the first place.

And where were the others?

"Come now, dearie." Tucking a few flyaway pieces behind the heiress's- ex heiress, Lucy had to remind herself- ear, the elderly woman gently took the girl's wrist and helped her stand. "Breakfast has been ready for quite some time, and you don't want to keep the master of the house waiting." She said this as if there was a joke hidden in there somewhere, though if Lucy was supposed to catch on it went directly over her head.

At the mention of her father, Lucy's heart began to quicken its pace once again as her feet suddenly felt like stones. The woman hardly noticed, however, as she pulled the young girl along and listed off the number of things that the chef had prepared for the two of them that morning.

Their heels tip-tapped and clickety-clacked on the hardwood floors of the grand hallways, and Lucy didn't feel particularly comforted by the familiar sound as she once had. On the walls, she frowned at the unfamiliar portraits that hung there.

Have they redecorated since the last time she had visited?

"You really gave me quite a scare this morning," Ms. Ceppetto tsked as they walked along, almost making Lucy freeze in her quick pace at the sudden, overwhelming sense of déjà vu, but she couldn't quite place it. "I was afraid that you'd fallen asleep at your desk again and let one of those large books fall on that pretty little head of yours." She winked over her shoulder, not noticing the girl's worried expression. "Wouldn't be the first time, now would it?"

Considering this morning was the first time Lucy had ever seen that desk, she wasn't really sure how to properly respond. Instead, she just chuckled uneasily and quickened her pace in order to keep up with the speedy woman. Her legs may be half the size of Lucy's, but she made up for it in her double time pacing.

Finally, they rounded the last corner that led to the large dining room that Lucy had always felt was too spacious to really ever feel like a comforting environment. At the very end of the table sat a figure that was surely Jude Heartfilia, though it was hard to say since they were hidden behind a newspaper.

Pulling up the waist of her skirt, the girl pulled away gently from the woman's grip on her wrist. Despite her eyes being downcast, not knowing how to anticipate seeing her father again, Lucy still managed to find it in herself to hold her head up high.

Walking to the opposite end of the table, the girl began to seat herself in the usual spot before noticing Ms. Ceppetto's questioning gaze.

"Are you two arguing? That's not like you." The woman uttered softly, looking back and forth between Lucy and the other end of the table where, the blonde just realized, there were two placemats set out.

Lucy had to refrain from doing something as unladylike as snorting at the woman's comment. That was it, surely Ms. Ceppetto's memory was most definitely fading.

Before the blonde could answer, however, another voice piped up from across the table.

A distinctively female voice.

"What are you two going on about down there?" Placing the newspaper aside, folding it neatly and lying it aside on the chair beside her, the woman looked up and smiled at the teenage girl.

Upon seeing the woman's face, said teen gasped so hard she began to choke.

"Mom?"

and there it is! hope you guys liked it3

Please review if possible, they always mean a lot(: