Prologue

AN: Hello everyone! I have been itching to finally sit and write my own fiction for a while now. Finally the bug that bit me annoyed me enough to do it. I'm a little nervous about it, but I figured, what's the worst that could happen! XD I hope that you all enjoy this small little dose of what I am thinking for this fic. Please read and review! I would love to know if anyone is interested in how this plays out! I am hoping to update weekly, on Sundays, if possible. I may do twice a week if I can get the storyline and editing done in time. Please be gentle, no flames! I am taking liberties with the characters, and they may be slightly OOC. I will do my best to keep them true to character, but also fitting them into my universe. No flames please!

I will leave translation notes at the end of the chapter for those who do not know what some of the terms mean.

This fic is rated M for a reason. I am planning on this having dark moments, adult themes/situations, angst as well as a possible lemon or two. SO please take this in consideration before reading!

Now, without further ado...AMBITION!

Disclaimer for entire fic...I do not own Fairy Tail, nor any of its characters/places/plot bunnies/etc. They are all property of Hiro Mashima. If they were mine, Natsu would have kissed Lucy instead of Happy! XD

Prologue

Shuddering breaths and silent sobbing, were all to be heard in the room, dimly lit by the dying light of a small lantern. A young boy, attempting to control the sobs that were threatening to overtake his entire being, sat attentively as his father faded from this life. How had this happened? Igneel couldn't be dying, he was his lifeline, the strength of the Dragneel clan and the man who held a vision for Fiore's future. One that would finally bring peace to their war ravaged land.

"Otousan, please let me find Porlyuscia, I know she will be able to help you! You can't leave me!" Natsu struggled through the tears to plead with his ailing parent. He knew that the old witch that lived a hermit's life outside of their fief in Fiore, would be difficult to persuade. Yet, this was her lord that was dying! Surely she could resolve her anger issues for a short amount of time. Natsu wrinkled his nose at the thought of disturbing the pink haired, red eyed demon woman in the middle of the night, but his desperation drove him.

His level of hero worship for his warrior father was widely known. There weren't many times when one was found without the other. Igneel was always strong, temperate, but passionate. Seeing the man frail and drenched in the cold grip of a fever sweat, was more than Natsu could handle. He had known something was wrong with his father for weeks, yet whenever he questioned him, Igneel would calmly smile and reassure him.

"It is nothing for a hatchling such as yourself to be concerned about. It will take more than a fever to take down your old man!"

Now, Natsu knew the truth. Consumption was slowly taking the one man, who encompassed his entire world, from him. This was the end, yet the pink haired youth refused to accept it. Much as he was in other aspects of his life, Natsu's grief was as fiery as his fury.

"Now, Natsu, Draco is calling me to the stars. My time in this world is finished, but fear not, I will be waiting for you in the next. Do not forget the ways that I have taught you. Do all things with conviction. If you believe in something, pursue it with everything that you are, and do not give up until you have achieved your ambition. Unite this land, under peace and prosperity. Value life and do not take it without remorse. Be a man that other men look to for advise and leadership. Love deeply and do not allow the cold perversity of the world to turn you to stone. You are my son and my legacy. You have always been a beacon of warmth in my otherwise cold world. Do not mourn me child, instead fight, and continue until you have achieved the happiness that all men deserve." With those words, Igneel reached a cool, frail hand towards the warmth that had always comforted him. His son had always held a fire that could not be rivaled, and in his last moments, he craved the comfort of those flames. He knew that his passing would bring grief to the child, but he took comfort in knowing that the boy would grow into a man unrivaled, such was Natsu's spirit.

As Natsu watched his father's large hand reach for his cheek, the tears seemed to stream unbidden across the already stained ridges of his cheeks. He could not stop himself from sniffling as he curled into the comfort his father's large, scarred hand brought.

"I promise otousan, that when it is my turn to meet Draco, that I too will have a legacy. I will bring about the change you've begun and create a country where all men are free to pursue happiness in their own way." Determination shone through the glassy emerald gaze of the eight year old. Igneel took comfort in the emotion that replaced grief in his young son. Knowing that with the lessons he had given him, as well as the love and compassion that he insured were also imbedded, the young man would surely grow into a samurai who would achieve greatness. A father could ask for no less in these days.

Alarm rose in Natsu's entire being as he could nearly hear Igneel's heart slow. The time when his father would slip away was drawing near, and all he could do was watch as the great man struggled through his final breaths.

"Aishiteru, Otousan."The tears fell with renewed vigor, as the pinkette said goodbye to figure who had always stood taller than life in his eyes.

"Until we meet again, my fiery dragon."

The days seemed to drag on endlessly, as his father's retainers scurried to arrange the funeral. All the activity was a blur around the youth, as he struggled to shoulder the grief that seemed to permeate every fiber of his being. The air seemed difficult to breathe, yet his eyes remained dry. He would no longer shed tears, as his father had told him to achieve greatness. Those who were strong did not cry.

"Young master, I am very sorry to disturb you, but there are issues to be resolved in the main hall." A gangly man with a strange limp, that Natsu vaguely recognized as one of his father's retainers, he thought his name could be Shigehide, interrupted his musings.

"Very well, I will be there in a few moments." Natsu knew that the never ending stream of delegations would not cease, yet he was only eight, he was still a child in many ways. Though he was the son of a samurai and thus extremely disciplined, his father had attempted to shelter him from most of the horrors of the world, the youth was still extremely naïve. Or he was, until his father's clan and estate were suddenly under his reign.

Standing with an air of sheer exhaustion, the dark bruising under his swollen eyes attesting to the fatigue that he felt, Natsu followed the limping Shigahide to the hall. Upon his entrance, the retainers of his father dropped their heads immediately in respect. It took a moment for him to realize that this was out of respect for him, as he desperately looked for the man that they usually lowered their heads for. Realizing that the man in question was no longer alive, the grief threatened to overwhelm his heart yet again. Gathering his composure, because a samurai did not show weakness, he strode to the dais in the front of the hall to take his place. The place normally occupied by his father. Gathering every ounce of determination and confidence he could muster, the child raised his head to address his retainers. Through unruly pink strands, he could see the twenty or so men, lining the sides of the hall, awaiting his orders to relax.

"You may raise your heads." He had seen his father do this many times, however, this was not something he was accustomed to. He wasn't even sure if this was the correct way to address them, but having no frame of reference other than Igneel, he went with it.

"My lord, there has been disquiet within some of the ranks. With Igneel-sama 's death, many of the men are uneasy about the leadership of the Dragneel Clan." His grandfather, Saito, was the first to raise his head and address his young grandson. He was conscientious of concerns the men had expressed due to his son in law's passing, yet he was doing everything in his power to retain their respect for his young grandson's leadership. Igneel prepared Natsu as much as he could, through small lessons that were disguised as games or play.

Chess was a way to learn military strategy, sparring taught the youth the discipline of a samurai, meditation instilled patience and inner peace, while throwing a handball as maids and retainers dodged, taught that life was not all work and no play.

"I realize that Igneel left us suddenly, however, this Clan is now under my protection. I will live for my ambition, Otousan's ambition, to see a unified Fiore. A country where all men have the opportunity to pursue happiness. Where the rice farmers are paid and taxed fairly, and the daimyo are expected to govern with respect and consideration. If you do not believe that this is the ideal that follows close to your own, I ask that you remove yourself from this Clan immediately. You will be shown compassion and respect for your decision, however I will not tolerate those standing against this goal." The sheer determination and strength in every line of the pink haired boy sitting atop the dais, astonished every retainer sitting in the rows in front of him. Thank Draco, his grandfather had helped prepare him for this moment. The eloquent words feeling foreign falling from his lips.

Metalicana, one of his father's most loyal retainers, turned towards his young lord, "Those of us loyal to Igneel, swore to him that we would stay by your side to see your ambition to fruition. My men are to maintain their loyalty to your service, Natsu-sama. Though there is the issue of your brother, Zeref, and his disappearance from the manor after your father's passing. No one has been able to locate him, and he seemed to have been in….quite a state when he left."

Natsu knew that Zeref was furious. Igneel had left the Dragneel clan in his hands, rather than that of his older brother, against the typical succession of a samurai family. He had turned to Zeref when Igneel had passed, hoping that his Aniki would be a source of comfort for him. When had approached him, tear stained cheeks, disheveled pink locks and fatigue hanging from him like a haori, Zeref had turned cold. His normally warm and comforting presence was now full of contempt and hatred, it was if he himself wanted to die. Unsure of himself, Natsu approached his brother. Zeref took that moment to confront Natsu with contempt in his gaze.

"You will never be my lord, Ototosama. I promise, that I will never bow before you. I will live my life to raise an army. I will become the Yawata no Kami, the God of War himself, if only to obliterate your hopes of achieving Otosama's ambition. I will spend my life daring you to be the one to take my head, though it will be impossible for you to accomplish. Come at me brother, with everything you are, or you shall always fail." With a final derisive shake of his head, Zeref had turned on his younger brother, dark hair veiling the barely restrained emotion boiling in the depths of his equally black eyes. Left in the quiet of the night surrounding him, Natsu's emerald eyes followed the kimono of his closest friend and brother, as he faded into the darkness.

One of the other retainers, Weisslogia, cleared his throat to bring the boy from his dark reverie. This seemed to shake the pink haired lordling from the last memory of his brother. He had lost the two people closest to him, within the span of a week. He was only just holding himself together, the burden of a clan and loss hanging heavy on his tiny shoulders. He stood as regally as he could, considering he was fairly sure the last time he had eaten a full meal was before his father passed, which could have been 3 days ago. He really couldn't recall. Not that it mattered, his drive would push him through hunger and sleep deprivation.

This meeting had already gone on too long, and Natsu wished to be back in his father's room, taking comfort in the surroundings that brought him peace. If only these old men would quiet and let him process in peace.

"Do not send anyone in search of Zeref. He has made the decision to leave this Clan and has abandoned his home. I will not waste lives on someone who does not wish to be found." He had always been considered brash and at times rude, but that was his personality. Igneel had taught him to be a man of honesty and action. How could he do that if he was constantly concerned with the tact behind every word he spoke? His declaration seemed to shock and confuse the room of retainers, as they began to mutter amongst themselves.

"If you wish to pursue my Aniki, you are more than welcomed to do so, but you shall lose your status as a member of the Dragneel Clan. I will not abide by those who cannot understand my commands. I will be in my Otousan's study, I have nothing further to discuss." With this last comment, the retainers quieted, the young boy had finally had enough and left the hall with a sweep of his father's dark haori.

The haori had been a gift from Skiadrum, and had been one of his father's most treasured possessions. The beautifully embroidered silk depicted an intricately stitched dragon clutching a handful of flames as it wound its way across the back. Igneel had earned the title of 'Fire Dragon King' through his victories in battle, and was widely respected, hence the gorgeous garment gifted to him by his trusted advisor. He had said that as the 'Fire and Shadow Dragons of Fiore', they were unstoppable. The memories of his father carried him back to his chambers. He silently wondered if the grief would ever release him. His father was to be buried tomorrow, and he was unsure if he would be able to trudge through it with the sadness he felt, buried carefully beneath a strong façade.

Upon reaching his Otousan's chambers, he slid the paper door adorned with flames and a replica of the fire dragon from the haori stamped onto it, and crumpled to the floor. He knew that he could unleash the anguish he felt here, where he felt his father's presence surrounding him. Everything was exactly as Igneel had left it. A lacquered desk sat opposite the beautiful doors which opened to a view of the hillside they resided upon. The scrolls and inkwell were sitting atop the slick, glossy surface of the desk, as if Igneel had only taken a break for a short time. There were letters from retainers, shop keeps and farmers alike on this desk. Igneel was always avid about the requests sent to him from his people. He took pride in his land and protected them with a ferocity that was unrivaled. He expected everyone under him to commit themselves to their stations, as he had to his. He was a fair man, and that is the reason that he was adored by all those who lived in his territory.

A small pond with a bamboo fountain bubbled outside of the doors and the clack of the small tube as it filled and emptied were the only sounds that accompanied the grief being poured from the child. With weary eyes, he managed to will himself passed the barely touched tray containing last night's meal. Sparing it only a quick glance on his path to his father's futon, he realized he should probably attempt to eat something. Maybe he would request some onigiri from the kitchens, he could suffer through a rice ball, right? A low rumbling from his stomach reminded him that, though his mind was suffering and refused to move forward just yet, some organs refused to slow down. What he truly wanted was to curl up on his father's futon, with his scarf, and will tomorrow to pass him by. However, if he continued to ignore the pains in his stomach, he would not have the strength to lead his people. Taking this thought as his strength, he managed to crawl off of his torn knees and slide out the door into the harsh sunlight, towards the kitchens.

Mirajane, managed the manor's kitchens like a true genius. The meals were always on time and decadent. She had a talent for taking the simplest of ingredients and turning them into something absolutely stunning. She also had a talent for keeping a cheeky, dirt covered Natsu's voracious appetite satisfied, which was a full time job until recently. She had attempted every recipe that she knew appealed to his appetite, yet nothing seemed to tease the boy she thought of as a younger brother, into eating. She had gathered her kimono sleeves in a tie and set to making yet another batch of red bean onigiri, with a touch of fire kelp. Natsu always did have a penchant for loving spicy foods, maybe this would be the key to getting his appetite on track. Her beautiful, waist length, platinum hair swung in the gentle spring breeze, when she heard tired footsteps trudging towards her kitchen. Turning toward the open door, her cerulean eyes widened, as she saw the boy in question peer around the corner. Her expression softened as she took in the poor child. The large black haori swallowed his small figure, that had become far thinner than she had seen it before.

Her knowing gaze scanned the dark circles, rumpled kimono, that she was sure had been changed in days. His normally soft pink locks were tangled and hung limply around sorrow filled, swollen eyes, red-rimmed in grief. Her heart called to the poor waif who had finally decided that his hunger outweighed the other emotions swirling in his tiny body.

"And to what do I owe this honor, my tiny lord?" A genuine smile graced her gorgeous face, as she came to sit on her knees before him. Her voice as comforting as a warm cup of tea to his frazzled senses. Natsu finally managed to squeak out a response, in a voice that hardly sounded like his normal boisterous personality.

"Would you happen to have any onigiri for me, Aneki?"

"It just so happens, that I was just preparing to make some, just for you. Would you like to help your Aneki, since you're here?" Hoping that involving the young boy would help to alleviate some of the pain and lneliness that hid behind his normally bright eyes. The two had grown close due to Natsu's obsession with food. It seemed he was always running past the kitchen on some adventure or another, mostly escaping his tutors, snagging fire kelp onigiri or the konpeito he knew Mira kept in a secret stash just for him. The blonde had always had a soft spot for the boy, as he was close in age to her younger sister Lisanna, who was one of the maids of the manor.

I always knew Mira loved me best! He thought with the first hint of happiness in days, as he nodded his unkempt head at the beautiful cook. Under normal circumstances, Natsu was not allowed near the preparation of food. He was a walking tsunami of destruction.

I wish that wasn't an understatement, Mira mused as she carefully tied her locks with a ribbon and began to wind a similar ribbon expertly through the pinkette's kimono sleeves to tie them back. She realized as she did so, that the youth had probably not bathed in days, and sought to rectify at least part of the problem immediately. He was not taking one step into her spotless arena with those grubby hands!

"Well, I only have one rule for any of my assistants." She pointed to the bucket of warm, soapy water that was sitting on the table, fluffy brown sponge floating at the top. "Wash up!" She chirped cheekily as she pranced off to grab the onigiri rice that she had prepared last night and the already washed fire kelp sitting on the preparation table next to it.

As she brought the items back, she noticed that he had taken to her command without complaint. Seeing the young lordling with the edges of his kimono slightly damp from his washing and a hint of a sparkle returning to his usually lively eyes, as she came to him with food in hand, gave her hope.

Maybe the pressure is getting to him. They've all forgotten he's still a child, after all. Shaking the disappointment from her face before she turned fully towards Natsu with a large wok full of the sticky rice and began to dice the sliced fire kelp.

"You have to make sure to boil the fire kelp and dice it finely so that it isn't so tough to eat once inside the rice. And mixing it with the red bean paste helps to take the heat down, even though I realize you are tough enough to handle the heat without it." Mira spared the youth a glance and a wink as she grabbed another bowl to begin mixing the sweet paste in with the kelp to lighten the flavor.

"Why would you want to take the heat out? It's so much better when it's spicy!" The pinkette puffed out his cheeks with his tiny lip sticking out under excited eyes. Truly looking the part of an eight year old boy, and not the grown man the retainers expected him to be.

"Not everyone can handle the heat like you Natsu-nii." Her musical laughter filling the otherwise quiet space. He always loved listening to Mira laugh, she could be absolutely terrifying if you tried to steal food or dirtied her kitchen, but her laugh was like listening to a beautiful song. Unknowingly, the corner of his mouth had quirked into a smirk. He was always cocky about his ability to handle spicier fare, that would otherwise ground a grown man.

"But these are for me, aren't they? So maybe just add a little extra kelp, just this once?" The pleading look in those emerald eyes did the white haired teen in. She could usually resist the musings of this particular hellion, however, under the circumstances she could make an exception to her normally tight rules.

"I imagine you're right about that, maybe just this once." Her softened gaze met his as she pressed her index finger to his tiny nose, in a sign of affection.

They fell into a comfortable silence, moving quietly as they formed the tiny triangle shaped snack. Neither realized how late it had gotten by the time they had finished rolling the last onigiri into its home. The sun was throwing beautiful rays of orange and red throughout the large kitchen, alluding to the night that was sure to bring with it the loneliness that Natsu was beginning to equate with his life without Igneel. Mira caught his attention, as it drifted to memories of watching the sunset after a long day of training with his tutors.

"I know it isn't my place, but are you certain you don't want to send someone to look for Zeref? He is nakama, even though he has left us. I'm sure he is in as much pain as you are, over the loss of your father." Natsu's eyes suddenly flashed with more emotions than Mira thought it was possible, in such a short span. Fear, grief, disappointment, anger, love and then settling on indifference.

"He is the one who decided to leave." Fighting the urge to confide in Mira, Natsu decided it was best for everyone if he didn't tell them of his brother's true intentions, as much as they confused him. How could Zeref possibly hate him so? He was his Aniki. His nakama. Nakama always stuck together.

Natsu suddenly felt the need to be alone, and process this new sense of betrayal. Maybe he could change his mind? Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could bring Zeref back, heal him. Maybe, one day, they could once again be a family.

"Thank you for the onigiri, Mira-nee." Grabbing the basket that was now filled with the delicious rice balls, he fled the room, before the tears he felt welling in his eyes fell and showed his weakness. He hated that he was weak. He couldn't save his father, he couldn't fight their enemies, he couldn't keep Zeref from leaving him. What could he do? His bare feet carried him, across the well worn floors to the familiar door that would be his sanctuary. Upon entering, he hastily grabbed the familiar white scarf off of his father's kimono rack and draped it around his neck, deeply breathing in the scent.

The scaled pattern and exquisite softness of the fabric wrapped around the small boy up like a mother's arms. The item was a gift from Natsu's mother, to Igneel, as a sigil meant to bring him victory in his battles. He had diligently worn the garment through every instance of battle. Once he returned, she would take it and lovingly repair any damage and clean any of the gore that had collected. As long as he could remember, the strip of fabric had always been perfectly imperfect. With the death of his mother, Natsu had watched Igneel show the same care for the piece as his late wife had. He had loved her deeply, and losing her had taken a toll on the man. He had lost a part of his soul that day, it was meant to be a joyous day, one that involved a new life. Draco claimed two souls for Heaven that day, and Natsu believed part of a third. Thus, Igneel had thrown all of his energy into his new ambition and his youngest son. Spending time with the small, fiery energy bomb had been just what the doctor ordered to move past the grief of his wife's death.

With the comfort of the scarf around his neck, and the haori on his back, Natsu settled into the disheveled mess that had become his father's futon. Normally, it would be immaculate. Igneel was incredibly meticulous and everything had its place, but these days, Natsu couldn't find the energy to care. He knew that with the rising of the next day, he would be required to do the one thing he was unsure that he could, bury his father.

Once again, he gave into the grief and allowed it to lull him into an uneasy sleep. Every night seemed to bring nightmares of dark eyes and dark promises of armies and destruction.

AN: Sooo...what'd you think? Would you be interested in seeing how this progresses or did it fall flat of your expectations? Please review so that this newbie can figure out whether or not to trash this idea and move to the next plot bunny occupying the space between my ears!

Translations:

Otousan - Father

Aniki - Older Brother

Aneki - Older Sister/Big Sis

Yawata no Kami - God of War

Haori - An overcoat

Onigiri - Rice balls

Konpeito - Sugar Stars (candy)

Nakama - Friends (Closer to family)

Wok - Large cooking pot