A/N:

Hi guys, this was a story that I've had in my head for awhile but haven't had the chance to write it down- there are some mature themes so if you're not into violence then this may not be the story for you. There will be a second chapter put up tomorrow which will probably be just as long :) Hope you guys like it! 3

-Ally

Some days she wondered if it was worth it- the running, the sneaking, going behind her father's back. Then she thought of the faces of all of the mages she had saved even if they hadn't known it at the time. And they still didn't, as far as she knew. While she sat locked in what felt like a gilded cage they were free to live their lives.

The finery that surrounded Lucy reminded her just what she was. A traitor to her crown, to her own birth, to her blood. Royal blood of Fiore flowed red through her veins and yet she felt no connection to it. She hadn't thought of her father, the King of Fiore, as anything as family in a very long time. It felt like a whole other life at this point, one that Lucy wasn't sure she wanted to remember. It just made everything harder. She had known her father's smile once and seeing it lost was the hardest thing in the world to her. How could you miss something if you didn't even know it in the first place? She wished she had never seen him smile or the way his eyes crinkled with joy when they gazed upon her mother. Somedays she wished she didn't know her mother either because then the ache in her chest wouldn't be so hard to deal with.

Lucy loved her mother and when she had been torn away, given back to the land, a piece of Lucy had left with her. She had only been small, still new to the world, but she remembered how her father's smile had never returned and the light in his eyes been extinguished. Her mother had died slowly, leaving their world like winter clinging to the last flowers before they grew. No wizards or magic or mages could help her, she had been too far gone before they had arrived, her father had blamed them. Lucy remembered his anger as he raged against them. "What do you mean there's nothing you can do?" "You're wizards! Heal her!" It was the first time Lucy had heard her father raise his voice and now it felt like he had never lowered it.

Lucy's homeland was in shambles, divided by a king that could no longer rule his kingdom. On one side lay the humans; headstrong and loyal to their human king- if not by love but by fear of what he would do if they did not follow. On the other were the mages who had been systematically "eliminated" for their failure to help the dying Queen. It was a genocide without match and Lucy watched it all from her gold lined window.

Earlier in the day, Lucy had been summoned to her father's chambers. He had asked her if she would marry a neighboring prince. But this was not a real question, it was the type of question people used when they wanted to seem polite but in reality, it was an order. Lucy did not have a choice, it was her duty as a princess to marry a prince, let him become king. Live by his side, die by his side or by his sword- whichever HE preferred. She had been born a bargaining piece and a pawn in her father's game.

Lucy had cried, back in the safety of her room. The prince frightened her, rumors swirled among the staff that he was not a kind man. That his anger towards mages was rivaled only by the king's own anger. To the south of their lands sat a large country inhabited by wizards and mages alike- it was said they were ruled by Dragons- they thrived and prospered, but their borders were constant traps of warfare as her father tried to slowly inch his way into their lands. If Lucy and the other country's prince were to wed, combine their forces and land in an unbreakable pact, it would mean the decimation of the mage's world as they knew it. It was what her father had planned since her mother's death and it made Lucy's stomach drop.

Lucy rose from her spot overlooking the castle grounds, leaving the window and the sunset view behind. If she wanted to work, she must start now. She told her maids she was not feeling well, dismissing them, as she dressed. The black full seat breeches she wore clung to her thighs in an unfamiliar way, she had never worn men's clothes before. They left her feeling exposed. She bound her chest and wrapped her hair into a high ponytail like she had seen some of the market men wear theirs. Lucy huffed as she tugged riding boots over the breeches, black like her shirt and pants.

Before leaving she grabbed her black cloak, a simple thing, a hand-me-down she had acquired from her riding instructor, and tied it securely around her neck. Lucy reached for her last item, the item this whole trip was to protect. It was a small box, brown with inlaid pink flowers- also a hand-me-down. Inside lay silver and gold keys, her most prized possessions, and a letter to a certain guild master, one her mother had never been able to send. Lucy hoped it was enough for what she was about to do. If she were found out, she'd be the next to be hanged in castle's gallows.

Exiting her room and locking it firmly behind her she made her way through the twisting stone corridors of the Fiore Castle. This one was the spring castle, only miles from the dragon land's borders. The mage's land had no official name, no one had thought them worthy enough to give them a civil name. To many, it was known only as the Dragonlands, ruled by the secretive Dragneel family.

Lucy made it past guards and through secret passageways and into the stable where her horse was. Quickly and as quietly as possible she tacked it, the animal seemed to sense her urgency. Its ears stay forward and content the whole time, even as they bolted out of the stable and far from the towering castle, leaving the sunset and stone walls from behind them.

It took only hours to reach the border and took only seconds to cross into the dragon lands. From the information she had gathered her destination was close, she kicker her horse faster. Soon they came to a small town, its streets were lit with oil lanterns, they gave off a welcoming yellow glow that made Lucy wish she could stay forever with these people. It was a stark comparison to the cold stone streets she had left behind in her own lands. Doors and windows were open to stores and bars, she could hear laughter and music flowing out of the open crevices and she could feel her mouth water and the smell of roasted lamb. She slowed in town, not wanting to draw attention to herself, and she kept the hood from her cloak up, but still, she could feel the stares from the windows and doors as she passed through.

Lucy soon made it to her destination at the heart of the small town. Her heart jumped in her chest and she felt a small sigh of relief run through her. Finally, she had made it. Fairy Tail. The guild her mother had written of in her letter. She had made it.

The Guild was large and impressive, it towered over the other buildings, but like the others, music and joy erupted out of it. The large wooden doors were open to the warm night. Carefully she dismounted her horse, tying it to a fence post, it lazily began to munch the grass underneath its feet. Lucy took a breathe and released it, squaring her shoulders as she walked into the noisy guild.

Inside the guild it was as she had imagined it- warm, welcoming, filled with people smiling and drinking dark ales. Her heart ached again to be with these people but it was not her place, she dismissed the thought. Around her people danced, other's eyes followed her. She stopped at a long bar where a beautiful white-haired woman was serving bubbling drinks in overfilled goblets. The woman came to her with a smile and drink in hand though Lucy declined the latter. "Not a drink for you then? How can we be of service?"

"I came requesting an audience with your guild master. I have important business with him, it needs his attention immediately." She spoke, though she knew her tone was much too formal- too regal. She tried to give the fair-haired woman a smile, though she was sure it just looked like a grimace.

As the woman opened her mouth to speak something bumped into Lucy hard, it jarred her, nearly knocking her off balance. A dancer probably, Lucy thought. Around her the music stopped abruptly, the laughing and chatter ceased. With horror, Lucy realized her hood had been knocked loose, exposing her long hair, recognizable in any kingdom. So rarely was a human born with the bright blonde she had been, the humans had said it was a gift from the gods. The mages knew it as an identifying marker to who she was. To what she was.

Lucy began to turn towards the now silent seething crowd when she was jerked back by her hood and flung to the wood floor. Her shoulder blazed with pain and the corner of the small box in her pocket dug into her side as it sit inside the cloak's pocket. Wide-eyed she stared up at her attacker, he was tall and muscular. His hair blazed pink, of all colors, and his teeth snarled. Flames licked out the fingers that he held clenched at his side. "What do you think you're doing here? In MY lands? How dare you show your face here." It was the angriest she had ever seen anyone at her. She was so tired of anger but she knew he was right.

She was their enemy, her whole family was. And yet she was a traitor to her family as well. Lucy was in limbo and she wasn't sure if she would ever get out of it- she wasn't sure she deserved to.

"I need to speak to your guild master." She tried to sit up, but the man's snarl kept her down, cowering on the floor. He reached his hand towards her collar, pulling it up close and her with it. She didn't let him scare her, she set her features into the look she had practiced over the years. Determined. Hard. Indifferent.

"You will speak to no one. You'll go back to your pretty castle, princess. You can walk out of here or I can hand deliver you with your head on a spike directly to your murdering father." He spat the words at her

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a shout "Dragneel! Let miss Heartfelia go! I will speak to whoever I want." Lucy's eyes widened. Dragneel. She knew that name, everyone did. The man holding her collar was this country's prince, next in line for whatever throne a dragon could possibly possess. Was he himself a dragon? Lucy's mind fumbled with the possibility.

Lucy turned her gaze to look at a small man, he rose barely to her waist and his wrinkles were immense. Lucy wondered if he had shrunk at some point in his life. But the flame mage let her go, glaring daggers at her as she rose, brushed herself off, and followed the older man into a private room.

The guild leader, Makarov, moved to sit behind a large wood desk. His eyes were dark and his mouth was a flat line, like a slash across his face. "Miss Lucy, you are not kindly received here." She nodded, she had known this was an option when she had set off. "But you will also be heard. You said you needed to speak to me urgently, I assume for you to come across the border, sneak in dressed as a man in the middle of the night, that it was not to just have a simple chat. Speak, before I change my mind, child." Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I am a traitor to my people, master Makarov. My mother said I could trust you and now I am asking- no, begging- for that trust. Our world is in grave danger, I've tried to lessen the blows my father is dealing to the mages, but alone, I fear I'm not enough to keep his plans at bay. He wants to marry me off to the neighboring prince... he wants to combine forces for a singular attack on the Dragonlands and wipe out mages forever. I can't sit idle and watch innocent people die just because of who they were born as. I've tried to reason with my father, tried to make him see the error of his ways, but there's nothing I can do. He's all but shut me out." She moved to sit in the large chair in front of the desk and folded her hands tightly in her lap. "I know you've noticed an influx of wizards seeking refuge and we've seen a large decrease in wizard deaths on my side of the borders. My father thinks it is because he's almost erradicated the wizard populations, but he's wrong. I've been sending word before his soldiers arrive for them to leave, leave everything they have, bring only what they need for the journey and go as far away from Fiore as they can. I've been a traitor to my people, but if it means I could save even a single life then it has been worth it." Lucy confided, tears welling up but not spilling over in her eyes. She looked to the old man and searched his face, it was tired and sad.

"We have seen a great migration from your lands, wizards are not easily moved. We are a hardheaded bunch," he smiled softly at her.

Lucy nodded, "I did whatever I could think of. Some I warned, when that didn't work I forced them to pay higher taxes, much too high for them to afford so they would move to cheaper lands across the border, if that didn't work I had them kidnapped and dumped across the border. I- I know it was not okay, and that they may never forgive me. But I'd rather they be angry than dead." Lucy thought to all the terrible things she had done to make the wizards leave, it filled her heart with sorrow.

"Why, Lucy? Why put yourself in the danger? Why care at all?" He asked.

Lucy pulled the box out of her pocket and laid it in front of him. His brows furrowed as he took it in his frail hands and opened it. At the keys inside his head snapped up, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then repeated the gesture once more before returning to the box and the letter. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he read it to himself once, twice, a third time. Makarov wondered if his old age was finally getting to his eyes or if what he was reading was true. "Because they're your people too." He answered for her. She nodded.

"I am the last living Celestial Mage on this world. There has not been a single known Celestial Mage in over two hundred years. My mother kept her magic hidden from my father, but not to me. I was born a traitor, its only fitting that is what I grew up to be. I can't keep my keys with me any longer- not with war looming and with so many enemies close to me. I can't risk them falling into the wrong person's hands and I can't risk myself being forced to use them against my own people." She was aware the danger, she had taken it into her heart, buried it deep deep deep down, and let it bloom. Danger and risk were her only friends and she was content to live out her life with them. "You must keep them safe here."

Makarov nodded, "You are confident, Lucy, that I will keep them safe?"

"My mother trusted you once and you did not fail her. Today I too will trust that you will not fail me." He was her only option and one that would kill her if it went awry.

"You understand that by leaving these here you are leaving yourself open? Without defense?"

Now it was Lucy's turn to nod, "I do. It's a risk I'm willing to take to keep our peoples safe.", she wiped a tear from her cheek, "If I don't make it out of this alive please don't tell anyone what I did."

"They deserve to know the truth, Miss Lucy." Makarov laid a hand over her own.

The lump in her throat was back, it kept her from speaking, she let out a sob. She was quiet for many moments before she rose, sniffling and wiping her tears and nose on her cloak. "I must go."

Makarov rose too, "In a better world you would not be leaving." He spoke sadly.

Lucy nodded, "In a better world, we would not be fighting."

It had been months since Lucy had last seen or heard from the guild- Spring had long passed, Summer had sweated by, and now the Fall leaves were starting to get buried under soft snow. Makarov had kept to his word, he had let her go and his guild and all the others that had seen her enter and leave had not spoken of her. Her journey that night was still a secret.

The castle was buzzing as Lucy strode to the extravagant dining area for breakfast. Maids and waiters frenzied back and forth as they prepared for the morning meal. Lucy saw as she entered that she was not alone in her morning tea, her wedding coordinator was seated already head first in a pile of papers. Bright colored fabric swatches lay arranged around her, Lucy couldn't remember if she were supposed to be picking out the colors of her bridesmaids dresses or the colors of the table clothes or both- she didn't much care seeing that if she had her way, come Spring, there would be no wedding to attend. Either her marriage would be dissolved by unseen circumstances or she would be dead.

As Lucy settled to the table and launched into mindless banter with the other woman she thought back to her conversation with Makarov. He would begin to rally his mages, prepare them for a war that he wasn't even sure would ever arrive, she would do what she could from inside the castle to send away more mages, dissolve her impending marriage, and if she played her cards right dethrone her father. Easier said than done.

She had already planted the seeds of doubt in her father's reign to her people, slowly she pestered and poked at them, urging them to grow into contempt unrest. She was beautiful, she knew that, and she could charm any market man with a smile. Her father was old, senile, losing his touch, she had gossiped just a little too loud in the marketplace, joked just a little too much to a certain fishmonger and her plan was set in motion.

Her marriage was another matter she had slowly begun untying the knots of. Her Fiance had met with her twice since the engagement had been announced and both times she had to fight to keep the bile in her throat. The prince was a handsome man with a wicked smile and an even wickeder temper. He was a brute and she had left both encounters riddled with bruises where he thought no one would see them. The stories she had heard about his terribleness had been true and she was at the receiving end of it. In ways it helped her, it made him easy to hate- she wasn't sure what she had done if he had been kind to her- and it made him easier to discredit. Her chambermaids had already started whispering about the finger marks around her throat, they were currently hidden under a thick lace collar. And they'd began to pity her when she had "fallen" down the stairs three times in one week.

Lately, gaurds had been more protective of her, stood just a little closer to her side than her father's and held their swords just a little tighter. Though she knew they could not come out and say it, she could see in their eyes that they were worried for her and would come to her aid in seconds. Her fiance was a terrible man, but maybe she was equally as terrible, using her misfortune to her advantage. Win over her father's forces completely and she could have an army in this war, become more powerful than her betrothed and she could break the proposal. A man would not marry a woman more powerful than he was, it would make him look weak.

Lucy went about her day, she filled it with a trip to the market, talking to her people. Though they had loved her father they adored their princess, even more, she bore the face of their late queen and was kind to them and offered her help in any way she could. Lucy listened to them, spoke to them as if they were her family, visiting them lifted her spirits. Many were innocent of the hate that her father had garnished, only following him because he was their king and he ruled with fear. If they had another option Lucy was sure they would side with her. But she needed an army to do that.

Night fell far too quickly for Lucy's liking, and she returned to her bedchambers. She fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of a world where they weren't divided and dreaming of smiling people.

Lucy woke with a jolt, her eyes wide with fear, as a hand curled itself over her mouth and her body pinned to the bed. In the dark room, she could just barely see the moonlight reflecting off her fiance's high cheekbones. He had been beautiful in the day but at night he was deadly. "I know your secret, little lamb, you've been a very bad princess." he cooed in her ear, his breath hot.

Lucy thrashed and kicked under his weight, her vision started to blur, she couldn't breathe around his hand and she gasped for air. Her vision faded to black, leaving her terrified and then she couldn't think at all.

She woke with a jolt, her arms bound by heavy chain that burned her skin. They knew, they knew she was a mage- she realized, the thought chilled her to the bone. The chains they had used were meant only for wizards to dispell her powers. Though without her keys she was as good as human, she didn't suspect they knew that. The chains hissed and burned and pain lashed through her. Her head pounded as she took in her surroundings.

She was in the back of a supply carriage, she could feel the wheels under her hit every rock in the ground as the moved. And it was still dark if it was the same day she didn't know, but it was freezing, snow was falling and in only her nightgown she was shaking.

Soon they stopped and she was retched from her curled up spot by clammy hands, they dragged her into the forest through snow that clung to her and froze her into a stumbling mess. The chains around her wrists dug into her with every tug on them and she bit back tears.

They entered a clearing, her fiance leading the way alone. He turned and swung, striking her to the ground. Over and over he kicked her, she could feel her ribs cracking with every hit, but she was too cold, too tired to do anything against him. How he had found out she didn't know and it was too late to care. She was going to die here, alone in the cold, beaten to death. Lucy could only hope that Makarov had readied his forces enough for the war to come.

Tears streamed from her eyes as her beloved kneeled down and spat on her, "You disgust me, you deserve a slow death and that's what you're going to get. Stay here and rot, Magic scum." He rose and readied for another kick. Lucy drew a ragged breath and tried to curl into herself, hoping if she made herself small enough that she would disappear entirely.

But it never came. As he readied to strike her one last time a wall of red fire scorched through the clearing, it warmed Lucy and she wondered if death were this welcoming. Her head had started to swim and the flames that were licking at her fiance's flailing body were starting to look like just pillars of light. She had seen that fire somewhere, had felt its familiar heat against her skin but for the life of her, she couldn't think of when. It was getting hard to do anything and thinking just didn't seem like it was on the table.

Lucy closed her eyes slowly, liking how the fire's flame made the insides of her eyes dance with color and then she slipped from time.