Part 3

She dreams of him that night.

She's tucked safely into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. She's trembling, a dark fear of something unknown twisting inside of her. His arms tighten, sensing her weakness.

He leans down, whispering in her ear, his breathe tickling. "You're safe with me." He promises.

She looks up at him. His crystal blue eyes are bright and honest, and he meet her eyes unflinchingly, but there's a certain tightness and tension in his face betrays his fury.

"I won't let them take you," He speaks earnestly, pressing his lips against her forehead. Her forehead tingles.

It takes a while before his words sink in.

Whose going to take me? She wonders, but her body is unresponsive and the question never comes.

She notices then his shoulder, a protruding arrow tip, and the blood slowly staining his shirt. Slowly, in a daze, she reaches up and touches it, her fingers coming away red.

Her mind feels sluggish, slow to process, and she cannot understand what is happening.

Glancing away from her hand, she looks back at Sting. His lips thin out and his shoulders stiffen, but his face reads as relatively unconcerned. His hand comes up to cover hers, either as a gesture of affection or to hide the blood, she wasn't sure.

"I love you." He says it casually, like he's said it a hundred times over.

There's no surprise to his declaration, only a gentle swelling of emotion and a recognition that this statement was familiar to her.

His brings his forehead to touch hers, his eyes closing. "You're mine, Princess." His voice was rough, thick with emotion. "In this life, and all others, you belong to me."

A roar fills the air around them, breaking the moment.

He whirls around, his back now to her, pushing her protectively behind him. She watches with a fascinated horror as another metal arrow sinks solidly into his chest.

He knew it was coming, she realizes. How he knew, she had no idea. But before she could even react, he's yanked the arrow out and tossed it aside like a child's toy.

She looks up for the first time, finally able to see her surroundings.

A small humanoid creature stands several meters away, longbow drawn, and an arrow notched pointing directly at Sting. Their appearance is warped, and she cannot make out any identifying features besides a large pair of wings. Above it, soars a large Red Dragon, with large menacing black eyes.

It lets out another challenging roar.

Her gaze swivels back toward Sting, who has stepped away from her, prepped in an attack stance with his magic swirling viciously around him. He's engulfed in a blinding white light that dies a minute later to reveal a White Dragon that launches in the air. She instinctively knows it's a physical manifestation of Sting's soul.

The two dragons charge each other, bodies slamming together in a mass of teeth and claws.

She wants to scream, to stop this bloodshed. Inherently, she knows that this battle is wrong, that these dragons should not be fighting each other. But she cannot move.

A thud of another arrow, this time landing solidly between her feet. She stares down at it with surprise. The floor beneath her cracks – had she always been standing on glass?

She looks up in time to see the Red Dragon being thrown to the ground, to hear the victorious call of the White Dragon. She sees him turn to look for her, and she meets his eyes right as the glass floor shatters and she plummets down into the darkness.

LUCY!

She wakes up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, her ears still ringing with his screams.

It isn't until the rays of sunlight filter through her hotel room that she's able to calm down enough and begin to doze off again.

Moments before her mind gives way to sleep, she faintly recalls seeing a slender tail on the humanoid archer.

It won't be until Natsu shakes her awake hours later that she recognizes the familiar eyes of the Red Dragon.

It will take her another three hours that Lucy, pausing to stare at her guild mark on her hand, realizes that, fairies do, in fact, have tails.