Chapter 7: Solid Ground
The ship's hull kissed the wooden dock of Hargion with a gentle, final bump. For the crew and most passengers, it signaled the end of a journey. For Natsu Dragneel, it was the sound of salvation.
Before the gangplank even thudded into place, he was moving. Or rather, attempting to. He half-stumbled, half-crawled from the deck to the rail, his face a magnificent shade of chartreuse. With a final, desperate lunge, he tumbled over the side of the ship and landed on his hands and knees on the blessed, immobile, glorious solidity of the wooden pier.
"Oh, sweet, merciful ground," he moaned, pressing his forehead against the sun-warmed wood. "Never again. I swear it. I'll walk to every job. I'll swim. I'll grow wings and fly. But I am never getting on a moving thing that isn't my own two feet ever, ever again."
Happy fluttered down and landed beside his head, tilting his head. "Aye! But Natsu, you say that every time!"
"This time I mean it!" Natsu vowed, his voice muffled by the planks. He began a slow, pathetic, but determined crawl away from the ship, like a sailor escaping a sinking vessel.
Gray strolled down the gangplank, now fully dressed and radiating smug superiority. He looked down at the crawling fire mage. "What's the matter, Flame Brain? The great Dragon Slayer felled by a little water? I thought you were supposed to be tough."
Natsu paused his crawl to glare up at him, a fresh wave of nausea making his eyes water. "I swear to god, you stripper... I'll... when I can stand... you'll pay for this..."
"Promises, promises," Gray said, smirking. He casually stepped over Natsu's prone legs as if he were a piece of driftwood.
Erza descended last, her armor gleaming, her expression one of serene, authoritative satisfaction. She stopped at the end of the gangplank, observing Natsu's progress, a three-foot advance achieved through sheer willpower and elbow grease.
"It is a pity," she announced, her voice carrying clearly over the dock. "Such immense potential for power, utterly crippled by such a mundane weakness. It is a glaring tactical flaw." She wasn't just stating a fact; she was relishing it. A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk played on her lips as she watched him drag himself along. "I shall have to incorporate anti-nausea training into our regimen. Perhaps spinning you in a barrel for several hours a day."
Natsu groaned, a sound of pure despair. "Erza, no... have mercy..."
"Mercy is a luxury for those who do not steal S-Class missions," she replied, the smirk now undeniable. She stepped neatly around him, her boot heels clicking decisively on the wood. "Now, get up. We have a guild to report to, and a punishment to receive. Do not make us carry you."
But Natsu was done. He had reached a point sufficiently far from the ship's terrible, bobbing memory. With one last shuddering sigh, he flopped over onto his back, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. The solid, unmoving pier held him firmly. The world had finally, blessedly, stopped trying to spin him into an early grave.
Relief washed over him, followed immediately by a cavernous, roaring emptiness in his gut. The realization hit him like a physical blow.
"I'm starving," he declared to the sky. "All my lunch... all that good meat from the village... it's all fish food now." The tragedy of it gave him a new surge of energy, the energy of profound loss. He sat up abruptly, though the color hadn't fully returned to his face. "I need food. I need *meat*."
Lucy, who had been watching the entire spectacle with a mixture of pity and secondhand embarrassment, finally approached. "Maybe you should get some rest first, Natsu. You look... fragile."
"Food first," he insisted, staggering to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, one hand on his stomach, the other pointing a shaky finger toward the town. "Then I'll face the old man. But I'm not going to my execution on an empty stomach. That's just... that's just poor planning."
He took a tentative step, then another. The ground remained blissfully steady. A flicker of his usual fire returned to his eyes, fueled now by hunger rather than magic. The ordeal of the sea was over.
The greater ordeal, facing Master Makarov's wrath, was just about to begin. And Natsu Dragneel intended to meet it on a full stomach.