Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.
The rocking chair creaked comfortingly, in the quiet of her home.
Just the day before, she'd been outside on the cliffs, watching the marine ship, clutching the newspaper with the damnable picture in it, not budging an inch as the love of her life was confirmed dead and the marines on the lookout for his offspring.
She was alone now, wasn't she? No more Roger, no more celebrating things together. It'd be Roger's birthday today. And tomorrow, the start of a new year without the legendary King of the Pirates.
He'd been a legend, alright. In the end, the Pirate King's execution had spawned inspired pirates flooding the Blues and soon, very soon, the Grand Line on their way towards Raftel. Laugh Tale. Whatever it was called, wherever it was located, Rouge didn't care.
The rocking chair moved back and forth, creak-creak, in a steady rhythm.
Soon, it would be Rouge's first birthday without Roger. But with his child, instead. Caressingly, she moved her hand over her belly. Not yet, it would be too soon if the baby was seen on her body. Not yet. In these moments, she swore she could feel some force within her helping her thoughts and slowing the baby's development by quite a bit. Every bit counted.
She was nine months pregnant by now and no bulge showed.
Rouge halted her rocking.
Searchingly, her hand dipped underneath the cushion she sat on, before carefully withdrawing her most cherished possession, a clipping of Roger's that she'd tucked away in the seat of her rocking chair.
"A few more hours, love." She murmured to herself, in the sudden stillness of the room.
"A few more hours, and a new year will begin. You've been dead for three months now. You won't get to see it with me, love. Today is the first of a great many New Year's Eves without you." And when, in the unjudging presence of her immobile earthly possessions, a few tears escaped her eyes, no one noticed.
The marines in town had already started taking away pregnant women – be they wives, daughters or mothers was unimportant in the grand scheme of things – to god-knew-where and they were only bound to take more each week.
In the silence of her home, Rouge was wondering what would be left once the marines were gone from Baterilla. When would that be? Would her child be born by then? She hoped not, for that would most probably spell their death sentence – her best disguise techniques and forgeries would not hold up to this close a scrutiny.
No. Better be safe than sorry. Little Ann or Ace would have to hold out a bit longer than this if they wanted to live. Rouge wanted them to live.
No marine could dictate the death of one of her children if she had anything to say about that.
When morning came, she hadn't slept a wink. Into the first rays of the New Year's sun blessing her skin, she said, "It'd be better if they were born a year from now.", unknowing it would come true and bring about her death as a direct result of her stubbornness.
AN: I only wrote one A4 page per chapter, I couldn't cram more into my schedule when I was writing this. I might expand on those 1-page-chapters later, though. :) Hope you enjoyed reading! I shall update this daily until all 24 chapters are out!