The Armor (Prince Harry fanfic #1)

Chapter Ten

His eyes fluttered open to the bright light the sprung in through the cracks of the slum, warming him and everything inside. Once again, the covers had been pushed off his body. He loved the heat but it would kill him. In a flick of his eyes, Harry found Lucy easily. She had been running her hand over a scar on her arm, feeling the ridges absentmindedly as her eyes wandered outside, watching something carefully. Whatever the outside held, she scratched at the light scar, which was nicer than the others. Harry noted that she was fully dressed for the day, and he wasn't behind. She didn't sleep well last night, and he blamed himself for speaking. She shuddered as a scream rippled through the village.

Harry's feet hit the ground quickly, rushing to the door to see outside, but was pulled back by Lucy. "No." Her fingers drug into his sleeping clothes, crumpling them, but neither of them tried to back away. Only, he was pulled closer, so that her voice could hit him like a stone. "No."

"Why not?" Harry still didn't pull away, though he fought himself on the inside, to stay with Lucy or to leave her.

"The fight is almost done. You don't want to be out there when they start."

"Why?"

"Harry, you're going to be here for a while so I'll tell you now, when they fight, don't get involved. Don't try to break it up. Don't even watch. It's not worth it. You can't do anything about it." Everything Harry knew about Lucy shifted uncomfortable, when he thought she was the woman who fought for the peace of everyone.

He had looked through one of the cracks, getting a full view of the two men who fought. Others watched on, some keeping score and cheering on and others in disgust. The two men fought, without a reason that Harry could see, and he was forced to watch under Lucy's firm grip. Her eyes probably scared him the most, unblinking about the situation. She had seen battles and he thought he might see pity in her eyes, it was the farthest thing from it. There was an anger in her eyes over this fight, a resistance to the resistance. While telling herself not to go, she wanted to go, anything to help. Her mind won this time.

"How do you know this?" he asked.

"Which scar doesn't match the others?"

She knew he watched, and he blushed over this. He hadn't been as discrete as he wanted to be, failing, and she didn't even care. But his eyes raked over her body now, trying to find the new scar, which was the one she had been rubbing, different than the rest of her scars. This scar was long down her arm, as if attacked by a knife above any other weapon. Though healed, it was fresh compared to the other ancient scars on her body, like they were pathways of a map. Harry wondered where they might lead, heading under her clothes, all the stories they could've told.

"Harry, everyone stares at the scars. You're no different."

The words were like gunshots to him. For so long, he wanted to be normal, to be like everyone else, but now it was the worst feeling in the world. To have everyone stare at you wasn't a moment he would wish on anyone. Sometimes you just wanted to be normal, and with being normal, it meant staring at the show.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, face fully red. There was no way to save himself now, embarrassment covered his skin, throwing his body away from her.

"Everyone does it."

"It doesn't mean they should."

Lucy's eyes focused on the ground. She could tell him then, just tell him all, the scars and the pain, but they were barely two months in. And if he pitied her.... She wouldn't be able to live with the pity that was given to her. She was strong, but no one believed her, always saving she was thrusted into strength, which was true. She had to be brave for the rest of her life, with the memories, and the days that followed the event, she was meant to be brave. But people left, all the people that had come fast, left fast. She had to tell herself to be brave every day.

"I am really sorry for looking." Harry didn't want to push her but his curiosity was strong, like any human's would've been. He wasn't going to ask, she was going to tell, he decided.

She smiled at him, focusing on him. "We all have scars. Mine are just a little more prominent." Her scars covered her body, crossing each other. Yet, she wore them well, part of herself. They made her even more beautiful, especially with her armor off.

"How did you get the scar here?"

She laughed this time, remembering. "Someone pulled out a knife." Harry staggered back in shock and she laughed harder. "Trust me, this scar didn't hurt at all compared to the rest of them. In my first week, no one told me to not get involved, so the first fight I saw, I tried to stop it. I didn't know what they were fighting about but I'm not exactly a violence person. So I just tried to stop it. I got in the middle of the men, able to hold them off, and then one of got super angry, pulled a knife and tried to stab his way through me to reach the other man." Harry froze. How did the charity allow this? She could've died! "I'm fine really. Everything is fine. I can handle myself, and I did. I got a scar, but both men were pretty messed up in the end." A twinkle of light spread in her eye.

"What did you do?"

She shrugged. "Without going into details, I was a badass, like usual." He believed that.

She walked past him and grabbed a few things. Harry stood there in awe. She was strength. His eyes watched her careful, like she might disappear right before his very eyes.

Quickly, Lucy's armor was back on, under the heavy gaze of him. She was ready for war. "Harry, get ready and meet me in the schoolhouse. We got work." She left.

Harry watched her, unable to move for a seconds. Yes, she was a badass, he decided.